Santorum will pry my porn from my cold dead hands REPOST 5
Dean looked at the hit counter in disbelief.
Nope, still 250,000.
He refreshed the page.
256,000.
Oh God.
Click.
261,000.
Click.
269,000.
Click.
Click.
Click.
297,000.
Were people in frigging Russia watching it? Fuck, had it…what was the word? What Sam was always spouting about - gone viral?
He brought up the chat box and messaged Gabriel as fast as he could. He had to get the video taken down, this was more than just a few paying gay guys - someone he knew might see it, and the statistical likelihood of that happening was growing every second.
Gabriel’s icon, a candycane penis, flashes up with the message - In ENGLISH if you please, slugger.
Dean re-reads his own message - Gabriel somehtings real;;y bad had hap[p[end!
Right, maybe he should slow down a little.
Gabriel, take the video DOWN, the hits are up to 290 thousand!
Check again stud.
Dean checked. 317,000. Fuck.
Fuck!
Yes you are. (Once that lengthy bit of performance anxiety was done with. How embarrassing.)
Shut it.
Touchy. Speaking of, I owe you the first lot of ‘royalties’.
Seriously?
321,000 downloads and counting, son.
Ew. ‘son’?
Yeah…that was inappropriate. ‘specially as you’re doing my brother. All very ancient greek really.
Royalties…?
Yup. 50 cents from each download.
And how much do you make?
…that is neither here nor there. I’ll cut you a check, put it through your paypal. Anyway, must dash, I have other movies to procure. Send me your next one when you get a prescription for ze petit pills blu, Qui?
Dean thundered at the keyboard, but by the time he’d marshalled his expletives, Gabriel had signed off.
He realised that he hadn’t managed to get him to take the video down.
Dean stared at the computer. He could still feel fear stirring in his gut, but on top of that was a kind of pride, even excitement. People were downloading the video, and they were already making money. 50 cents times (he checked the webpage) 334,000 - that was…
One hundred and sixty seven thousand dollars.
Dean sits back and marvels at the sum. Ok, so only half is his, the rest is Castiel’s, but still, it’s nothing to sniff at. It’s a freaking huge amount of money.
He could get a new tape deck in his car. (Sam would argue for a CD player, or an MP3 hook up - but Sam has no soul).
He could get his pipes winterised (whatever that means).
He could buy actual food for his cupboards instead of stealing from Sam.
Well, obviously he’d still do that, big brother’s privilege and everything - and it pissed Sam off, which was mostly the point anyway.
Gradually, he calmed down. No one he knew was going to go looking for illegal gay porn on the internet. He was safe, he was loaded, and everything was working out just fine. He’d been worried about nothing.
He picks up the phone and calls Cas.
“You will not believe how many hits we’ve got.”
“…and good morning to you.”
Dean rolls his eyes. “Morning Cas.”
“Good morning Dean.”
He smiles to himself and checks the page again. “You know yesterday’s session has made you over fifty thousand dollars?”
He hears something smash, and Castiel curses quietly.
“You drop your coffee?”
“Fifty thousand?”
“More than that, and it’s going up every second. Clearly people like something about it.”
“That’s not hard to imagine.”
Something about it isn’t arrogance, or self belief. There’s a compliment in there that Castiel is aiming at him, and Dean swallows, feeling warm and pleased.
“Yeah well…you were pretty great.”
“Nice to hear.”
“C’mon, like no one ever told you that you give a freaking mythical blow job before?”
The silence on the line indicates that no, no one ever has.
“Well, you probably blew their brains out - literally, because yesterday was…amazing.”
“Thank you.” Castiel does seem genuinely pleased, and that makes Dean grin stupidly at his computer screen before he remembers that he’s not Castiel’s buddy, or his boyfriend, and it’s not really his place to make the guy feel good about his blow job giving abilities.
Still, it would be mean, not to mention ungrateful, not to say anything.
“So what’re you going to do with your money?” Dean asks.
“Buy a new coffee mug.”
“After that.”
“I don’t know,” Castiel says, like Dean is mad. “It’s fifty thousand dollars. What do I even do with fifty thousand dollars?”
“Anything.” Dean says, because that is kind of the point of having money. “Buy yourself a really expensive dildo…or like, a gold coffee mug…covered in diamonds.”
There’s a pause. “I suppose I could use some new socks too.”
Dean laughs to himself. Castiel waits for him to be quiet and then says, “What are we filming next?”
“Hadn’t really thought about it.” Dean says, “I gave Gabriel everything we already had so he could build us a profile on his website. I guess we’ll have to think of something soon, since everyone’s so into it.”
“I’ll think of something.” Castiel said, “Don’t worry, it won’t involve your butt.”
“…thanks.” Dean says, embarrassed, “listen, about that stuff I said, I was just…frustrated and…embarrassed.”
“Understandably so.”
“Yeah - but, don’t take me seriously when I’m being a dick, Ok?”
“I won’t.”
“Cool.” Dean felt a little better about yesterday now that he knew Castiel wasn’t going to hold it against him.
“I have to go buy you something off Amazon now,” says Castiel, and hangs up, without saying goodbye.
Dean’s a little worried.
He’s even more worried the next day, when a package arrives with the morning mail, bearing the Amazon logo and an Amazon prime sticker (figures Castiel would have all that next day delivery bullshit) Dean goes into his tiny kitchen and opens the package with a knife. A book slithers out onto the kitchen counter.
“A beginners guide to anal intercourse.” Dean reads, knowing that only bad things can come from this.
He picks up his phone and speed-dials number three (the first two being Sam and Sam’s cell).
“Nice present Cas.”
“I can write it off as a business expense.” Castiel says, which is probably his idea of a joke.
“Great. Well, I hope you’re planning on buying me dinner before doing anything in chapter two.”
“You haven’t read that far yet.”
“Oh no? Who’s saying I haven’t?”
“Chapter two is ‘So, you’re ready to rim?’.”
“Gross.”
“I would advise against judging until you’ve tried it.”
Dean scrunched up his nose, no way was he ever letting that happen to him. He’d rather shove a Q-tip up his dick. “But we can still have dinner, right? Because I’m bored, and hungry, and we still need to talk about the next video.”
“And you feel the best place to do that is in a public eatery?”
“Like I go anywhere where people would rat me out - I inspire loyalty in the creepiest men.”
“Good to know.” Castiel pauses for a moment. “I could be persuaded into dinner, my refrigerator only has celery and baking soda in it.”
“You’re a multi-thosandaire and you haven’t bought any food?”
“I was preoccupied with finding a solid gold, dildo, coffee mug.”
“How’d that go?”
“It’s being overnighted to me from Paraguay.”
Dean snorted. “Where do you want to go for dinner?”
Castiel sighed. “I have to bring my brother, I promised that we’d have some bonding time this evening.”
“…so, it needs to have a kid’s table?”
“So it needs to have an extensive cocktail menu and under no circumstances must it have a dessert cart that is not well guarded.”
“…I think I know somewhere. Give me your address, I’ll pick you up at seven, and your brother can meet us there.”
Castiel gives Dean his address and Dean scribbles it down on the memo pad that had come with his phone. (because why else would he have a memo pad? He’s not Sam, he doesn’t get a hard-on every time he gets near a stationary counter).
“Just one last thing,” Castiel says, “my brother is bringing his new…squeeze.”
Definitely a Gabriel word, Cas would probably have preferred ‘partner’.
“He’s got a new boy-toy?” Dean didn’t really know Gabriel, but he knew enough to know that 1.) Gabriel was gayer than mardi gras, and 2.) Gabriel liked young guys with tans, bangs, and firm, unsullied asses. (point 3.) was that Gabriel over shared).
“It seems he has. Though I’ve never met anyone he’s dated. And I haven’t seen Gabriel properly for…well, I don’t really remember.”
So, dinner was going to be unpredictable, weird and probably incredibly uncomfortable.
“Cool. Well, be ready at seven, you know, if you can manage it.”
“Dean, usually when we’re meeting, I have to shower, administer an enema, lube myself, dress and find my way to your home via the public transport network. And I am never late. I highly doubt I will find putting on a shirt and pants on time for seven to be in any way taxing.”
Well, that told him.
“Whatever. And, don’t dress too nice, we’re not going anywhere you’d need a tie or…matching socks or anything.”
“Noted. Will I need a Stetson or some kind of gang colours?”
“You’re getting funnier Cas, keep working at it.”