Who you gonna call? 3/3
Chapter 3
Nick buried his hands deep in his pockets, the right one a fist around the meager outcome of this night, and hurried home. He'd wasted hours on the street and what had he to show from that? Hardly enough to get fed the next couple of days and an aching jaw from the guy who'd been so drunk it had taken him forever to blow his load. In the end Nick had feared he couldn't make the guy come at all and he'd let him abuse his mouth for nothing. No come, no cash. No bonus points for effort in this business.
His mind already on the hot shower and his bed waiting for him at home, Nick didn't notice somebody coming up behind him. Rapid steps closing the distance between them, a harsh shove and Nick toppled over. He screamed in surprised and barely managed to get his hands out of his pockets to prevent himself from face-planting on the dirty asphalt. Spitting and cussing Nick turned around to his attacker and froze at the sight of the muzzle of a gun aimed at his face.
"Money!" A voice demanded but Nick's eyes were fixed on that muzzle right in front of him. It danced up and down, left and right and a small part of Nick's mind worried about a gun in an unsteady hand but the bigger part just stared at the growing blackness. The muzzle seemed to grow to the size of a black hole, consuming everything, sucking Nick into its depths.
I'm dead. The thought was clear in his mind. Shot in a back alley. He wondered if anybody would even notice. Aiden would. Sam and Dean the next time they were in town. But otherwise?
"Give me your money, asshole!" The voice cracked and the gun shook harder. With effort Nick let go of the black hole and his gaze wandered up the smooth metal, over a shaking hand and up to the man's face. Hollow eyes over weeks of stubble. The smell of alcohol, piss and sweat lay heavy in the air and Nick swallowed against the urge to gag.
"Please." He croaked out, digging in his pocket for the few bills he had. "I don't have much but you can have it."
He blinked against the tears sure to get shot any second now, by accident or on purpose didn't really matter, dead was dead.
Broken fingernails scratched over his palm when the man snatched the money from him and Nick's bladder suddenly felt close to bursting. His eyes were back to the muzzle, that black hole swaying above him, and he wondered if it was true that you don't hear the shot that kills you.
"Please." He whimpered. "That's all I have."
Over the gun the man looked at him, hard, considering.
It's not enough. He's going to shoot me because it's not enough. And with that thought Nick couldn't hold back anymore. He peed himself. Tears ran down his face and he sat in his own piss and he waited for the shot. Waited to die.
The man looked at him in disgust.
And then the gun was gone and the man took off running. Nick stared after him and couldn't quite believe that he was still alive.
The puddle he was sitting in was getting cold and his jeans clung to his skin but Nick sat there for another minute until he trusted his legs enough to get up. On shaky legs he hurried home and only dared to breathe in relief when he'd locked up behind himself. He leaned against the door for a moment until the heavy odor of his own piss put him into motion again.
The apartment was dark, no sign of Aiden, and Nick was glad that his roommate wouldn't see him in wet pants.
"Nothing a hot shower and the washer can't fix." Nick reassured himself but before that he checked if the front door was firmly locked and then he made a round through the apartment, checking every window and turning on every light they had.
Freshly showered and wearing dry sweatpants and a t-shirt Nick went to bed. He couldn't bring himself to turn off the lights and he didn't actually care what Aiden might think about that.
Nick couldn't sleep. Every time he closed his eyes, he saw that gaping hole of the muzzle. Deep and dark and ready to swallow him.
He lay there in his well-lit room and stared at the ceiling and wondered if he had locked the front door. After five minutes of reassuring himself that, yes the door was locked, he stood up to check. After that he didn't go back to bed and switched on the TV instead.
Just until Aiden's back, he told himself.
An hour went by and Aiden wasn't back yet. By then Nick had checked the door five times and had made his round through their little apartment three times. He knew it was ridiculous but he couldn't shake off the feeling of somebody sneaking up on him.
In the end he was ready to call Aiden to come back. Aiden would probably bitch at him for ruining a gig but Nick was beyond caring. He had his phone already in hand when his eye caught another name on the list. Dean.
Nick bit his lip, debating his options. Then he pressed the call button.
The phone rang four times before Dean finally answered.
"'llo?" Came his voice sleepy out of the speaker.
Great, I woke him. Nick thought and was about to end the call without saying anything. Because to be honest, he'd no idea of what to say.
There was some rustling and a faint "Whossit?" from Sam in the background.
"Nick, that you?" Dean must have seen the caller ID and all of a sudden he sounded wide awake.
"Yeah, it's me." Nick clutched the phone to his ear, just hearing a familiar voice, hearing Dean's voice, helped him to calm down.
"You alright?"
Nick wanted to say that yes of course he was alright, wanted to be strong and brave but he wasn't.
"No, I'm not alright." The tears were back. He could have died.
"Shit." More shifting and the creaking of a bed frame. "Are you hurt?"
"No."
"Where are you? Somewhere safe?"
"I'm at home. The door is locked." Nick let out a shaky laugh. This was ridiculous, he wasn't in immediate danger anymore. He was safe at home and he really shouldn't bother Dean with this.
"Can you tell me what happened?" There was only concern in his voice and hesitantly Nick started talking. There was an echo in the line so Dean must have put him on speaker so that Sam could hear him as well but neither of them interrupted him. They didn't laugh at him for being such a wuss either.
"I think I'm still a little bit freaked out, sorry I bothered you with this." Nick ended but he already felt more at ease by then.
"You're not bothering us." Dean reassured him. "We're not that far out we could make it to you …"
"By tomorrow afternoon." Sam helped out.
Everything in Nick screamed yes, please but he said: "Thanks, I'm fine. It's just … dunno … I keep checking the door and I expect him to jump me any second but I guess it's normal to freak out after something like that."
"You sure?" Dean asked not really convinced. "We could swing by tomorrow, just hang out a bit, grab a beer."
It was tempting but Nick didn't want to be a burden. "I'm sure. I'm fine."
There was a pause on the other end and Nick pictured them looking at each other in one of their silent conversations. When Dean spoke again his voice had changed. It was more the dominant tone he usually used in bed, the one Nick instinctively responded to with a "Yes, sir!"
"Nick, check the front door." Came the order and Nick was halfway to the door before his mind caught up with his body.
"Front door locked, sir." Nick reported after he had rattled at the door to make really sure.
"Good, next time you're in doubt if it's looked or not you remember this. You checked. You told me it's locked. It is locked." Dean sounded serious as if this was a perfectly normal thing to do. "What's to your right?"
"The bathroom." Nick was already on his way.
"Check the window."
"Window in the bathroom is closed, sir."
They went like this through every room and checked every window. The window in Nick's room was the last one and by then he felt much more comfortable with being alone in the apartment.
"Think you can sleep now?" Dean's voice softened.
Nick hesitated. Going to bed meant to be alone again and Nick wasn't quite sure if he was ready for that just yet.
"Okay, strip."
"What?" That order came totally out of the blue. Nick was glad that Dean took the time to reassure him but he wasn't exactly up for phone sex or anything.
"Get naked and get under the covers." Dean repeated in that tone and Nick hurried to do as he was told. "Close your eyes."
Nick closed his eyes and tried to relax.
"Remember the last time we did some intense stuff?" Dean asked and gave him a second to get his mind on a memory. "Remember how you felt afterward? You're fucked out and sweaty and you're lying between us. We frame you, we shield you. We hold you, we ground you. You are safe."
Nick let that feeling wash over him.
"We kiss you and stroke your chest, we help you to calm down." Dean continued.
Nick inhaled deeply and relaxed farther. It was getting warmer under the covers and for the first time since he came home he felt safe.
"Ehm, Sam? What are you doing?" Dean's question somewhere between amused and curious broke the calming mood.
"Kissing you and stroking your chest." Came the somewhat muffled answer. "Keep talking."
"So what?" Nick could hear the raised eyebrow in Dean's question. "You're going to mirror everything I tell Nick to imagine?"
"Sure." Came the easy answer. "Within limits."
Somebody has learned his lesson, Nick thought with a smile.
"Killjoy." But Sam must have hit a ticklish spot and so the word came out with a chuckle.
"Tell him what I'm doing." Sam demanded when Dean didn't continue his sex talk.
"He's kneeling between my legs." Dean sounded a bit breathless. "We're both naked, he's stroking over my chest and stomach, fingers raking over my skin."
Nick spread his legs to give an imaginary Sam some room and with his left hand he stroke himself while he pressed the phone to his ear to not miss one bit.
"Now he leans in to me and kisses my throat and works his way down to my nipple."
Nick heard the wet sucking noises from Sam's treatment and imagined it done to himself while Dean's harsh breathing peppered with deep moans filled his ear.
"He's working his way down. Hands and mouth on my abs, on my waist."
Nick pictured that well-defined stomach with a wet trail of kisses on it.
"Are you hard?" Nick asked because for sure he was.
"He is." It was Sam who answered. "Fat and heavy, leaking all over himself." There was a needy noise from Dean. "Hmm, and he tastes good, too."
"Stop teasing you little bitch." Dean bit out and for the moment Nick seemed forgotten. With them he was never sure when they did it on purpose or when they really retreated to their own little world for a moment. Either way, for Nick it always hit the right buttons.
"Lube?"
"On the floor where you left it." Dean answered and it was only then that it occurred to Nick that neither of them had needed to take off any clothes. "You got lube, Nick?"
He made a positive noise and fumbled for his own bottle.
"Okay, Nick. Do what I do." Sam ordered and Nick brought his knees up so he could reach himself. "I'm at his hole now. Just brushing over it with a fingertip. The muscles twitch under my touch."
Dean and Nick moaned in unison.
"Get a finger inside." Sam guided Nick through the fingering. One, two, three fingers. Slow and deep, not like he usually did this.
Nick writhed on his own fingers. He wanted to fuck himself, wanted to grind down but Sam set a slow pace, turning fingering Dean open into a sweet torture for both of them, Dean and Nick.
"Would you put your dick in there already?" Dean finally lost his patience, equally frustrated with the lack of progress as Nick.
Sam liked to force his way in, to bury himself to the hilt in one hard thrust, Nick had been on the receiving end often enough to know that but today Sam took his sweet time.
"I feel the head slipping in." Sam informed Nick. "Feel Dean's heat around me. God, you're tight."
"What did you do down there the last minutes than?" Dean grunted out but was muffled by what sounded like a kiss.
"I draw back and push back in. Going a little deeper." Sam said and Nick mirrored his movement with his own fingers. When he was finally all the way in, or in Nick's case as much of his hand as he could fit in, Sam just stayed that way for a moment. The sound of passionate kissing filled Nick's ear and his cock ached for attention while his fingers were buried deep inside him.
"I'm just rolling my hips." Sam finally moved. "Not much movement, nice and slow."
"Stop teasing. Fuck me for real." Dean keened and the noises he made went straight to Nicks groin.
"Nick, you can touch yourself. Nice and slow." Sam gave his permission after what felt like an eternity. To do that Nick had to drop the phone on the pillow next to his head but he was still able to hear Dean's helpless begging loud and clear.
Despite Dean's pleas Sam fucked him and worked his cock in that slow pace he still kept while Nick imagined it was him he was fucking.
Dean was the first who came. A guttural sound deep from his throat and Nick pictured him going rigid under Sam. Pictured spurts of come on Sam's fist working Dean's cock.
Nick followed. He felt the muscles flutter around his knuckles and he bucked into his fist and then waves of pleasure washed all over him. The orgasm rippled through him, slow and sensual. The only thing fast was his heart rapidly beating in his chest, primeval proof that he was still alive, blood rushing through his veins, come spurting over his fist alive. He was alive.
With a sigh Nick fell back in the pillow and closed his eyes in the afterglow. When he opened them again, it was morning. He was sticky all over and his phone and the bottle of lube lay on the floor.
Of course Aiden gave him shit about leaving all the lights on but Nick just waved him off and went for a shower.
Over the day Nick could almost forget what had happened the night before. However, every time he closed his eyes he saw the muzzle pointed at him but it was okay, he could deal with that. But with the hours going by and the evening coming closer he dared the night. No way he was going to work the streets tonight and he was close to asking Aiden to stay at home as well. But then he would have to tell him what had happened and Nick wasn't sure if he wanted to do that. So Aiden would leave in the evening and Nick would be alone. Alone in the dark and empty apartment, alone with his thoughts and memories.
Around five in the afternoon Nick got a text message from Dean: We're in town. Wanna grab a beer?
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A/N That's all folks. At least for now. Stay tuned for the heart-story of this verse starting in December:
Could you just hold me?
Summary: The Winchesters have shielded Nick from the supernatural as best as they could but that doesn't keep the supernatural away from him. Of course, he gets sucked into their world the worst possible way. And with Bobby in the mix things are only getting more complicated.