#actwritelovedie

Given Summary - Dean says yes but he has a few demands that must be met. 

Rating - Explicit

Relationship(s) - Castiel/Dean Winchester

Tags - Explicit Sexual content, Blood, Dean!Michael, Rough Sex, Dubious Consent

Chapters - 1

Word Count - 3,848

********* 

James

Fucking

You are really sweet, *hugs* and the couple other people that said something, thank you.

But honestly, I do not agree. It seems to me that none of my friends actually want to be around me, talk to me, anything, because I'm annoying and kinda awful.

So to cope with the loneliness, Jackson would break into his dad's liquor cabinet and grab a couple of bottles of whatever he could find. Whiskey was what his dad drank most often so Jackson found a brand new bottle of Jack Daniels and snatched it before taking it up to his room.

Three hours and nearly half a bottle of whiskey later, Jackson sprawled out on the floor in front of his bed, staring at the ceiling. He watched as headlights shone through the windows and filled the room with light, frowning because he was alone and he hated it.

After another ten minutes, Jackson rolled over onto his stomach and pushed himself to his feet, stumbling over to the bed. He fell down onto the mattress with a huff and groped around on the sheet until he found what he was looking for: his phone.

Jackson unlocked his phone and licked his lips quickly, staring at the blurred screen, grumbling about it. He brought his contacts up and scrolled through them, tapping his thumb against Lydia's name.

Or what he thought was Lydia's name.

When the line started ringing, Jackson brought the phone up to his ear and flopped back against the pillows, sighing. He listened to the other line ring, closed his eyes, and thought about the last time he and Lydia were together. The memory of her lips -- always soft and tasting like strawberries -- made Jackson bite his lip and he mumbled for her to hurry up and answer.

Just when he thought no one would answer, the line clicked over.

"Hello?" 

That voice definitely wasn't Lydia's and Jackson frowned, hoping he was just too drunk and he hadn't called anyone else. Or Lydia hadn't turned into a man since the last time he saw her.

Clearing his throat, Jackson opened his mouth and answered, "Lydia?"

"Uh," the voice said and Jackson recognized it, just couldn't say who it was at the moment. "No, this isn't Lydia."

"Then who's it?"

There was a moment of silence before a reply came: "Scott."

How had Jackson called McCall instead of Lydia? Scott and Lydia's names didn't start with the same letter except -- oh. He had put the other boy's name as "McCall" in his phone instead of Scott. The only actual names Jackson had in his phone were Lydia and Danny's.

"Didn't mean to call you," he sighed and lifted his free hand, scrubbing it down the side of his face. Jackson was still thinking about Lydia and her mouth, the imagery making his cock harden in his pajama pants.

Scott laughed and said, "Dude, I know. You meant to call Lydia."

Maybe it was the fact that they were on the phone - or maybe it was from the half a bottle of whiskey he'd drank - but Scott sounded more attractive. His voice was rough and he sounded happy, like he always did, even if he was talking to Jackson. It didn't do anything to make Jackson's cock any less interested and he groaned.

"M'drunk."

"I can tell," Scott replied with a laugh. "Why are you still on the phone?"

Jackson took a deep breath and shrugged. "I dunno, Scott."

Scott fell silent and Jackson thought he said something wrong.

"What?"

"You called me Scott," the other boy replied, "instead of McCall."

A laugh bubbled up from Jackson's throat and he moved a hand down his bare stomach, slipping his fingers under the waistband of his pajama bottoms. "Told you -- m'drunk."

"Jackson."

"Mmmm?"'

"Go to sleep; you're too drunk to be talking to me right now."

Frowning, Jackson slipped his hand under the elastic and cupped himself through his boxer briefs. "I like when y'say my name," he slurred.

Scott laughed and Jackson smiled, liking the sound. He rubbed himself through his underwear and breathed deeply, lifting his hips off the mattress as he did.  When his half-hard cock pressed against the palm of his hand, Jackson moaned and tipped his head back.

"Dude!" Scott yelped on the other line. "Are you jerking off?"

"No." 

"I'm hanging up now, Jackson."

When he heard his name, Jackson gasped, "Say it again."

"What -- Jackson?" Jackson hummed in response and stroked himself through the thin fabric of his boxer briefs. "Dude, no."

"C'mon, Scott, please?"

A long moment passed without a response from Scott and Jackson continued to stroke himself, making little whimpering noises in the back of his throat. He heard Scott inhale sharply, smirked, and moved his hand underneath the elastic of his underwear, gripping the base of his cock.

When Jackson stroked up, he moaned and arched his back, breathing in deeply through his nose. As he touched himself, Jackson imagined what Scott was doing on the other line, in his own room, and groaned.

"Dude," Scott said, finally, and cleared his throat before continuing, "do you have to do that while I'm on the phone?"

"Why -- s'it bothering you, McCall?"

Scott huffed and cleared his throat again before answering, "No."

"S'it turn you on, Scott?"

"Dude, Jackson, you can't ask me that."

"I think it does," Jackson hummed as he pulled his hand out and pushed his pajama bottoms down his thighs. He tugged his briefs down with them and wiggled out of both articles, kicking them toward the end of the bed, spreading his legs. "M'so hard, Scott."

A gasp filled Jackson's ear and he grinned before continuing to speak, slurring his words a little. "Got m'hand on my cock, Scott, and m'stroking it slowly, thinking 'bout you."

"Fuck, Jackson..." Scott groaned.

"You want me?"

A short pause and then, "Yes."

Jackson grinned and licked his lips, moving his hand up the length of his cock before bringing it back down, moaning. His body was warm and he was sweating, already overheated.

"Want you, too," he admitted and licked his lips again, quickly this time, as he positioned the phone between his ear and the phone. Jackson turned his head to the side slightly to keep it there and moved his free hand down, cupping his balls, giving them a light squeeze. That pulled a gasp and a whimper from his throat and Jackson clenched his eyes shut, breathing in slowly.

Scott moaned on the other line and mumbled, "This is so fucked."

"Shh," Jackson slurred, "what're you doin'?"

"Rubbing myself through my jeans."

Shuddering at the thought, Jackson stroked himself a little harder. "I wish I could see," he mumbled, his body going hot all over when Scott laughed.

"Didn't know you swung that way."

"Shuddup. M'lonely and hard and you're there."

Scott laughed and then moaned. "Fuck," he breathed, "I'm so hard."

This piqued Jackson's interest and he bit down on his lower lip, rolling it between his teeth as he continued to stroke himself. "Tell me what you're doin," he said.

"Got a hand down my jeans, stroking my cock slowly." There was a pause before Scott said, "What about you?"

"M'naked and I have a hand around my cock, the other on my balls."

"Shit," Scott moaned and Jackson grinned, listening to the other boy breathe heavily on the other line. It made his cock harder and he gripped the base lightly before dragging his hand up, thumbing across the slit. He gasped and heard Scott whimper on the other line.

Jackson pulled his hands away and grabbed the phone, rolling over so he was laying on his side. He switched ears and leaned over to open the nightstand drawer, rummaging through it for the tube of lubricant he kept in there, just in case.

When he settled back against the bed, Jackson popped the top on the lube and poured some onto one of his fingers. He dropped the bottle to the mattress and lifted his hips, tilting his head back. After taking a deep breath and closing his eyes, Jackson pressed the tip against his entrance and whimpered, almost painfully.

"What are you doing?" Scott asked breathlessly.

"I'm gonna finger m'self, idiot."

Scott gasped and then moaned Jackson's name. "You do that?"

"Not all the time," Jackson answered as he pushed the finger in slowly, getting it in all the way before situating the phone between his head and pillow again. "It's in and, fuck, it feels so good."

"Jackson."

Swallowing hard, Jackson groped around on the bed with his free hand until he found the bottle of lube. He popped the top on it and poured some onto the palm of his hand before stroking his cock, working his hand and his finger at the same pace.

As he stroked his cock and fingered himself, Jackson moaned and made more noise than he normally did. He listened to Scott make the same sounds and growled deep in his chest, letting a pained whimper escape when he pushed his finger in too far.

"You okay?" Scott asked and Jackson growled out 'yes' before telling the boy to talk to him, about anything. "You've got nice lips, you know," he said and Jackson laughed, the noise tapering off into a moan. "Bet they would look nice around a cock."

"Your cock, Scott?"

Scott groaned and said, "Yeah, my cock. Get you on your knees and watch you wrap your lips around the head."

"Shit," Jackson moaned, stroking his cock quickly, twisting his wrist on every upstroke. "Keep going, Scott, m'close."

"Make you open your mouth and start fucking your face. Slow at first, then I'd thrust in harder, my hand gripping your hair tightly." Scott sounded breathless and Jackson wondered if he was close, too. "Then I'd get you on the bed and finger you open."

Jackson made a strangled noise and thrust into his fist. "Scott," he said, repeating it like a mantra before groaning, "m'gettin' closer. So close, Scott, please."

"Would you let me fuck you, Jackson?" A loud, guttural moan came in response and Jackson contorted on the bed. He was so close and kept listening to Scott talk, the combination of his voice and the words coming out of his mouth pushing him over the edge.

"Scott!" Jackson gasped as he came, his back bowed and lifted off the mattress as he stroked himself through his orgasm. He came in thick ropes on his stomach and chest, his entire body trembling. 

On the other line, Scott said his name and grunted, letting out a loud "fuck" as he came. Or so that's what it sounded like to Jackson, anyway.

They both breathed heavily and Jackson licked his lips, pulling the finger out of himself with a whimper. He suddenly felt empty and pouted, putting his hands on his thighs as he listened to Scott curse.

"I should, uh, go," the other boy said and Jackson hummed. "See you."

With that, Scott hung up and it was abrupt but Jackson wasn't really bothered. He was still drunk and feeling completely blissful from the orgasm he had, so he didn't care about anything.

After laying in bed for another ten minutes, Jackson got up and stumbled over to the door, slipping out into the hall. On his way to the bathroom, he used the wall to keep himself up and stable, making it down the hall with no incidents.

Jackson cleaned himself up, went to the bathroom, and made his way back to his room before pulling his pajama pants on again. He climbed into bed after that, put his phone on the nightstand, and pressed his face against the pillow.

When he fell asleep, Jackson thought of Lydia.

During the night, however, Jackson's dreams took a different turn and he started dreaming about Scott McCall. When he woke up in the morning, Jackson was hard and pressing against the mattress with a bad taste in his mouth. He looked at his phone, saw the outgoing call he had made to Scott, and then looked at the floor, noticing the half empty bottle of Jack.

Cortez (usually) doesn’t do more than drop off and pick up and Kaidan’s dead in your ‘verse so I’m pretty much out, lol.