moonlettuce: (SA: Robot Head)
[personal profile] moonlettuce
Title: On The Air
Author: Claire
Fandom: Stonehenge Apocalypse/Supernatural
Pairing: Jacob Glaser/Dean Winchester
Rating: R
Word Count: 1,047
Summary: It's not everyday Jacob Glaser broadcasts his sex life across the airwaves...
Notes: Written for [personal profile] hils for [profile] santapocalypse.

On The Air

He doesn't think it's anything at first. After all, he's got several regular callers, some of whom ring the show at alarmingly close intervals. And if he can cope with Sharon from New York talking about how the entire government's been replaced with cyborgs, and Nick from Arkansas giving him a full description every time he's probed by aliens (which seems to be once a month and twice in Decembers), then he can cope with Dean from-- well, from wherever Dean's from, since he's never given a location - talking about the things that go bump in the night.

But then one night Dean calls ten minutes before they're due to go on air and, instead of just telling him to call back, like he does with anyone else who phones early, Jacob asks him how it's going. There's a pause, like Dean doesn't know how to answer, and then he launches into commentary about he wishes vampires fucking sparkled because then at least the little bastards would be easier to find.

That's the first time it happens, but it's not the last time Dean rings before Jacob's due on air. It's not every night, and there's no method to when Dean calls, but Jacob finds himself looking forward to it, finds himself going on air with a faint edge of disappointment in the background on the nights he doesn't talk to Dean.

The conversations they have evolve, moving from vampires and werewolves (and Jacob had found himself quietly mocking the special effects in The Wolfman when he'd watched it last week, not because they were bad, but because he'd taken one look at the hairy guy with teeth and immediately thought 'Well, that's not what a werewolf looks like--'), and onto more personal things. He knows Dean's from Kansas (but hasn't lived there since he was a kid), has a brother called Sam (who he's insanely proud of, even if he calls him a jerk every other sentence) and that he lost his dad a few years ago (Jacob doesn't know the details to that one, but he knows, whatever happened, Dean still feels guilty over it).

In return, Jacob tells Dean about his childhood in Wichita (where his mom still runs a bakery that sells the most delicious pumpkin spice cake), about his younger sister (who once dumped a boyfriend because he'd laughed when he'd found out who her brother was and called him a conspiracy nut) and about the first guy he'd ever slept with (and how they make much better friends than they ever did lovers).

They talk about everything and, somehow, it moves from something to something more. It moves to Jacob, straining behind his jeans, as Dean murmurs in his ear, low and filthy. It moves to Dean, telling Jacob how he wants to hold him down and plough into him, telling Jacob how Dean wants to just make him take it. It moves to Jacob diving into the toilet barely a minute before he's due to go live, cock out before the door's even closed and hand stripping over hard flesh, come splattering over his fingers because he just can't wait.

It continues like that for a while. Some nights, Jacob makes it through the show half hard and still hearing Dean's laugh in his ear as Jacob realises he doesn’t have time to do anything about it before the first call comes in. And some nights, he just opens his jeans and leans back in his chair as Dean's voice washes over him, leans back as Dean tells him how he's going to slide slick fingers into him and open him up.

Dean's voice is quiet, soft and guttural as he tells Jacob how he's in the area on a job, how he wants to be there so he can suck him down and milk him dry. And Jacob wants it; he'd tell Dean his address right now, if Dean asked, just to get Dean's mouth on him. His hand's moving over his cock as Dean's words drop into his ear, cool tones, soft and wrecked and showing that Dean's not as unaffected by this as he likes to make out. Want and take and gonna tie you down and slide inside are met with yes and please and wanna taste you.

And it's when Dean's describing how he's going to fuck Jacob, how he's going to wrap his fingers around Jacob's wrists and pin him down before opening him with his dick, that Jacob feels it. Sharp and tight and there as Dean tells him he's going to mark Jacob up, come inside him and brand Dean's name across his body for all to see. Jacob arches out of the chair as he comes, stuttered thrusts into his hand as come dribbles over his fingers and Dean's matching groan reverberates through the headset.

"Jesus, fuck, Dean--" Because there's really nothing else Jacob can say, nothing else to say.

That's when he notices the switchboard is lit up, calls on all lines and flashing bright red. That's when he notices the On Air sign is shining. And he doesn't know how he did it, or when he did it, but he's pretty sure anyone out there who's tuned in for the show just got a play-by-play of exactly what Dean wants to do to Jacob, and exactly how much Jacob is up for that.

It's not everyday he broadcasts his sex life across the airwaves, so he does the only thing he can. Leaning forward, Jacob adjusts the microphone slightly.

"Apologies, listeners, but The Real Story will return tomorrow. I'm sure you all understand." And even if they don't, he doesn't care.

He flicks the show off broadcast before switching back to the line Dean's still on, rattling off his address and asking Dean where he is.

There's a pause and, for a moment, Jacob thinks he's made a mistake, that this is just a game they play over the phone and it's not meant to be anything more than that. And then Dean answers. He can be there in thirty minutes, he says, want and amusement lacing his tone.

Jacob nods, even though he knows Dean can't see him; nods, and tells Dean he'll be waiting.


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May 2017

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