Black Hurricane

I stare at the clippings of gossip magazines strewn across the kitchen table.It's all about me: some new, some old.Apparently the paparazzi were hiding better than I expected, and some of the photos were even taken two days ago - a photo of me and Terry going grocery shopping, and the press claimed Terry was my new boyfriend.There were full-page newspaper clippings, and there were also clippings of tofu cubes, so piled up that I couldn't see the surface of the table.Whoever brought me to this place must be a fan, maybe a pathological stalker

Just three or ten minutes ago, I woke up in a big, empty bed.I was naked but my ass was intact, so at least I wasn't ravaged while I was drunk and sound asleep.The person who brought me here was kind enough to leave a large glass of water and some painkillers by the bedside.It didn't occur to me that it might be a narcotic, that they might be trying to trap me here.Now I doubt it, but I don't feel drugged, just hangover.

Finally, prodded by my bladder, I started to find the toilet.After finding the toilet, I found a huge bathtub inside, piled with black leather clothes and white wigs, which reminded me of the man who abducted me yesterday.Next, I should hurry up and find a phone, because Kal-El must be looking like crazy for me.He definitely won't let me go home with that man.At the same time, I didn't feel right wandering around the room naked, and wearing the leather jacket in the bathtub, so I found a white towel and wrapped it around my crotch.

I've come all the way to the kitchen looking for a phone, and now I'm almost a little scared to meet the owner of the house.What is he trying to do?Knock me out and tie me up?Lock me up in the basement and make plans?Slit my wrists in front of his "Jace altar"?Maybe he's a big Dean fan and wants me to disappear forever.Damn, could it be Li?God...

There was no phone in the kitchen, so I went to the living room.The design of the house is eerie.Some are big and long, with a U-shaped layout.There are not many rooms, or it is not yet possible to allocate a room.Apparently this is a place that has been refurbished not too long ago.With the smell of cement and fresh wood, the appliances in the kitchen are brand new and have a sense of design.On top of that, the white sofa in the living room is so new it looks like it just came out of the plastic wrap.

I found a telephone on a table, and the chairs next to it were piled with stuff, but I was stunned for a moment before I saw a person lying on the floor.I don't know if the guy is dead or what.He doesn't look like he's moving.He was wearing a gray sweater and black lace-up pants.All I could see was matted black hair and a fair hand resting on his head.On the light gray carpet under him were a few balls of paper towels strewn randomly, an empty bottle of Scotch whiskey stood by his hand, and a small black empty bucket lay at his feet.If you look closely at his shoulders, you can see the faint shuffling of his breathing as he sleeps.That means he is not dead.

I breathed a sigh of relief and began to think about how to get around him to get the phone.The phone was very old compared to the rest of the modern tech and furniture in the house, and it was attached to a cord, not a cordless phone that I could just lean over and use.My head was throbbing, my stomach was churning and I was about to vomit, and I couldn't bear it anymore.

I couldn't find any other way but to awkwardly step over him and dial the number as soon as I got it.Just one ring, and Kal-El picked up.

"Jess?"

His panicked tone infected me, and once again my heart sank for a possible situation.The stranger was still sleeping between my legs, his face hidden under his wide sleeves.

"Yes, it's me," I said as quietly as I could. "I'm safe now."

"Jesus," he exhales, and I can just imagine him ruffling his hair. "Where are you?"

"I...I don't know," I confessed.I can't reach the window to see.The windows were all on the same wall, covered by black curtains.

"I can't believe they just took you away," he said through gritted teeth. "I called the police and they said there was nothing they could do."

"I swear I didn't know they took me," I whispered, making him worry that I'd be damned guilty of myself.I shouldn't be that drunk. "I always thought I was leaving with you, but I realized something was wrong when I got in the car."

"Okay, you gotta get out of here. Do you think you're in the attic? I didn't think of that yesterday, but Rick just thought of it a few minutes ago. I'm going out to find you now."

"Attic?" I looked around. "No, this place is much bigger."

"Maybe it's the floor below the attic, the one that Rick was finishing up?" Kal-El asked.

"My...how am I there?" I asked, and the guy beneath me moaned and writhed.

"Why?" Kal-El's voice was as confused as mine. "Because that's Dean's house. When I found out you weren't there last night, Lucas -- the guy I fucked in the toilet last night -- told me Dean took you away .He said you'll be fine, that Dean guy won't do anything to you." He paused, then added hesitantly; "Then I...like punched him."

Dean?Dean?my dean?

I looked at the man, who was rolling over, the sleeves that had been covering his face had slipped away.When I saw the face of the only person I've ever loved in this life, my arm was so weak that I almost couldn't hold the phone.

He looked ten years older with big bags under his eyes, but still my Dean.

"I'll be right there," Kal-El said.

"No," I whispered uncertainly, eyes still fixed on the love of my life. "No, don't come. I'll call you later."

I ignored his objections and hung up, and Dean moaned again, very hoarsely.He opened his glazed eyes, seemingly confused at first, but when he finally caught sight of me, his eyes widened.Then his whole face crumpled, and he covered it with his hands, and the tears and sobs burst forth.He curled himself up into a ball so that I nearly lost my balance and fell to the ground, and he burst into tears.The mournful voice made me cry too, and I subconsciously hugged him and stuck to his body, so that both of us could calm down.

He stretched out and hugged me, digging his fingers into my skin, and buried his face in my neck.He smells like a brewery, and I think so do I.

"Bucket, bucket," he panted, one hand on his stomach. "Barrel," he repeated before I realized he was going to throw up.

I suddenly bent down to get the black bucket, and I felt stares staring at my eyes, but I still controlled it and sent it to him in time, so that he vomited completely.I wiped my tears with my elbow, and then I kept rubbing his back, and he almost vomited up half the bucket.I threw up in the toilet last night, which is probably why I didn't throw up with him.The smell of sour water turned my stomach, but I stayed there with him.When he finished vomiting I took the bucket away and he lay flat and shivered.

What a romantic reunion.

"Get up," I said. "Send you to bed."

He let me drag him up and help him to the bedroom.I lifted the white quilt so he could lie in it, and found a wet towel to wipe his face.Dean is so out of his mind that I don't think he even knows I'm still here.He was shaking, sweating, and grunting.

When it was finally done, I stood by the bed and looked at him.If this is a dream, I desperately need someone to wake me up.I don't know what the hell I'm going to say when Dean comes to his senses, but I'm not leaving here until he explains it.If he really loves me, we will get through this together.

I took one last look at him and went back to cleaning.The most disgusting part was dumping the bucket of shit he vomited into the toilet.I gagged constantly, but nothing came out of my stomach.

Dean was still unconscious, so I hurried into the kitchen.His fridge and cupboards are pretty much empty, but I managed to find some biscuits, which I can eat by now, and a few glasses of water on the tray.He also has a fancy coffee machine, and after fumbling a few buttons, I came to the bedroom with two cups of freshly brewed coffee.I barely drink coffee, but with my current hangover, I need some.

I put the tray on the nightstand and climbed into bed next to Dean and sat up on my back with some thick pillows.Only then did I notice that the towel around my waist had disappeared at some point.I don't know when it slipped - probably when we were in the living room.I stuffed a small handful of biscuits into my mouth and washed it down with bitter coffee - I thought I should make the coffee weaker, but didn't want to get out of bed right now.After drinking this cup of coffee, with the help of painkillers, I feel like I am finally half awake.

"Jesper," Dean murmured, his voice both sexy and husky.He looked at me with hazy eyes, as if he was still in a dream.He raised his hand, seemingly with difficulty, and stroked my arm with his fingers.

"Hi," I smiled lightly and grabbed his hand. "how do you feel?"

"You didn't leave." His face began to wrinkle again, as if he was about to cry again, but he held back with all his strength.

"No, I didn't leave." I shook my hand gently. "You're not feeling well. You need something to eat and drink. Can you sit up?"

He frowned at the mention of food, but he let me help him sit up anyway.After coaxing and persuading, I finally got him to eat a few biscuits and drink a whole glass of water.He vomited as he lay back, but he took a few deep breaths and held back.

After I put the things back in the tray, I lay back beside him, propping my head on my hands. "When was the last time you had a drink?"

"Uh..." He closed his eyes and frowned. "Before drug rehab last year?"

"So you think it's time to get rid of a whole bottle of scotch last night?"

"Hmm..." he moaned, looking a little weaker.Then he took a few deep breaths before answering: "That's...you said that after I left you when we were young, you didn't mind who fucked you, and in the car last night, you told me that I could do whatever I wanted. This... …I can't bear to hear that. I can't bear it if you treat me like a stranger."

Did I say it?I've fucked all over the place.But after being with Dean I have no one else.

"Did you recognize me last night?" he asked hesitantly, now opening his eyes and looking at me.

"No," I whispered back. "I was really drunk. I just remember that you did a great job of disguise. Why didn't you tell me it was you?"

"I thought you'd be upset to see me." His face creased again, but he took a few deep breaths to calm himself down. "God, Jace, you have no idea how sorry I am for what I did."

"I'm also sorry I didn't give you a chance to explain."

Dean stared at me for a moment, eyes full of pain.

"Most of what you found out was true. I did try to use you at first, but everything that happened between us was true. I really do love you."

"Okay," I whispered.

"Really good?"

"Well, good," I replied with a gentle smile. "I believe you, but I think we should sleep a little longer and talk later."

Dean's lips curved into a faint smile.As I got closer, he whimpered and sobbed.A big tear slid down his cheek and I wiped it away with my fingers.Then we hugged each other and fell asleep in each other's arms.