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Stakeouts are the best, Dean had initially thought a couple of days ago, loving the thrill of going undercover and busting drug dealers, but this was not he had signed up for: a lifeguard on a public swimming pool. Dealers, nowadays, were getting craftier on distributing their stuff. And it's a big problem not only in the neighborhood but also in the precinct Dean Smith was assigned to.
In normal circumstances, he was supposed to be concealed from the civilians’ eyes, somewhere in the comfort of his car or an old building, not like this, wide open and exposed to the public. The highchair he was sitting on didn’t help either. Even though he got the best seat in the house, to spot any shady activity in the vicinity, he didn’t like being presented like a Thanksgiving turkey.
There were only kids and some teenagers on the pool when the job had started, but now, after the news of the new hot lifeguard had spread like wildfire, the number of parents sunbathing on the poolside had drastically increased. Dean couldn’t blame them, though; he’s not bad to look at, after all. His team took advantage of it and brought Ellen and Jody to the field to gather more intelligence for the drug trade.
“Nice shorts,” Charlie chirped beside Dean. “Where did you get them, the teens’ section?”
A frustrated grunt escaped from Dean’s mouth after hearing his partner’s teasing tone. He hated the darn short-shorts. Charlie had picked them up and forced him to wear the too-revealing piece of clothing on the pool as his ‘disguise’.
"Haha, never heard of that before," not tearing his gaze from the pool, Dean replied. Just like his shorts, his tolerance for Charlie's antics today wasn't that long.
On the other side of the pool, Dean’s eyes caught a kid running.
Not today, kid, Dean thought as he blew his whistle, a little too loud than he intended. FWEEET! The kid got nerve doing stunts on his watch. "No running on the pool, asshat!" he shouted.
On his right, Charlie took a sharp breath and clicked her tongue, unamused of how he handled the situation – or his poor choice of words. Although on his other side, the moms - who Dean wished were widows – were swooning over his low, authoritative voice.
I could listen to him all day, one of the women said. It was Jody, wearing a black, two-piece bikini, showcasing her athletic body.
The women half moaned, half hummed in agreement.
Ellen just shook her head, a smile creeping on her face as she lost in character.
"Moms love you, huh?" Charlie whispered, emphasizing the word 'mom'. And Dean knew exactly what she meant.
"Why are you here again?" Dean asked instead, not wanting to entertain another of Charlie's teasing. So what if he might've fooled around with one of the single moms? The job was stressful and he needed to blow off some steam. "You still have half an hour before your shift."
"Well, Bobby called and he wants you in the precinct ASAP."
"Why, is there something wrong?”
"Nothing's wrong,” Charlie quickly said, snatching the whistle from Dean's hand. “Ellen gathered this morning that a group of teenagers is planning to visit the pool later this afternoon. The moms over there assume that their children are up to something, saying about a party."
"Yeah, so what? Kids party all the time?"
Charlie sighed. "It's a party, Dean, so there's probably –"
"Alcohol."
"Drugs, you idiot!" through her clenched teeth, Charlie corrected, slapping the side of Dean’s exposed thigh in the process. "Bobby got a hunch that the dealer would show up later, so he probably wants you to be the primary for the operation."
Rubbing the part where Charlie had hit him, Dean nodded. One second Charlie was fooling around, next thing was she’s all business, no bullshit. Dean was only kidding when he had said alcohol, but he got her, though. They’d been chasing whoever was running this drug operation for months, and they could finally – possibly – end it today with the new information. "How about you guys?" He came down from the highchair and spared Ellen and Jody’s direction a glance, disappointment showing on his audiences’ faces. Amongst the pouting, though, one of the attractive women pushed up her breasts and winked at him.
Dean gulped and his cock twitched in response.
"I'll pass the order to – hey!” Charlie nudged Dean’s side, catching him in the act. The woman saw her and quickly turned away, crossing her arms in an attempt to hide her breasts. “Eyes on me, Smith.” She pinned Dean with her gaze and continued, “I’ll pass the order to both of them and they'll be right with you at the precinct."
“And you?”
"I'll stay here to be on the lookout."
“Okay. But wouldn't that look suspicious if the two of them leave after you talked to them?"
"No it won't,” Charlie assured. “When you're not on your pedestal the women just disappear, so them leaving wouldn’t be a problem nor raise suspicions."
Ah, right. Show’s over. “Yikes.” Dean tried not to wince at the thought of he’s one dance away from being a stripper, entertaining the ladies on the pool.
“Yes. Yikes. Now go and change. Bobby's waiting."
With that, Dean made his way towards the main building so he could change, purposely avoiding walking in front of the sunbathing ladies. He didn't want to flirt with any of them, especially the one who half-flashed him her boobs. And fuck, just the thought of how firm those tits looked was making him half-hard in his freaking prostitute-shorts. They were perfect for tit-fucking.
I need to get out of here, he thought in panic and sped up his pace, not wanting anyone to see the slight tent on his front.
He was about to enter the lockers when he felt someone's intense gaze bore into him. After spending the past days being looked at – plus his instincts as a detective – he knew damn well that someone's checking him out. Was it another mom, a dad with a midlife crisis, or their target?
Where are you? Dean quickly scanned the pool area for someone who seemed out of place, but nothing. The place was still the same since the last time he'd checked it seconds ago: kids laughing, parents enjoying the sun, and that very same kid who's running earlier.
Zilch.
Sighing, even though he didn’t want to, Dean shrugged off his uneasy feeling and turned back to the door. Maybe it’s just his imagination. The half-mast he's trying to hide got him all conscious and on guard. Just my imagination, he repeated to himself until his eyes caught someone suspicious. There, leaning on a wall outside the men's bathroom, beside the saunas, a tall, well-built man with a pair of sunglasses was looking at him, arms crossed over his hairy chest.
Dean raised a questioning eyebrow and the guy flashed him a smile in response.
The guy then pushed his sunglasses up until it was nestled on his dark brown hair and jerked his head towards the bathroom, prompting Dean to follow him.
Sonofabitch, Dean said under his breath as he watched the guy enter inside. I fucking found you.
With only one objective in mind: to make contact, fast, Dean jumped the gun and followed the man, taking the ‘Keep Out. Out of Order’ sign along the way. He hanged the yellow sign on the door handle, and while doing so, he looked over his shoulder and wished that Charlie got her eyes on him. She was not, busy talking with Ellen and Jody.
Suddenly, it dawned on him that he’s not wearing any wire; no means of communication to call for backup. And even if he did, there’s no way he could conceal it in his shorts.
Fuck it, there’s no time.
A low whistle greeted Dean the moment he entered.
“You put the sign?” the man started, amusement showing on his face. “Well, that’s new.”
“Yeah, yeah. Whatever,” Dean quickly dismissed. He walked towards the man until they’re a couple of feet apart and continued, whispering, “You got something I need?”
“It depends.” The man shrugged, smiling. He took off his sunglasses from his head and put it in his pocket. “Top or bottom?”
Confused, Dean asked, “What?”
“First time?”
“Umm… I guess?”
“Nice.” The man’s smile grew wider. “Let's start with this and let's see how it goes.”
Slowly, the man closed their gap and leaned in.
Dean thought the man would whisper something in his ears until he felt lips against his, tongue sliding across his bottom lip. Blindsided by the kiss, Dean froze in shock. Was this how these dealers do it?
Words stuck in his throat, his silence was seen as an invitation, because soon, the man got friskier and grabbed the back of his head to deepen the kiss. The man's velvet tongue invaded his pliant mouth with confidence and need until he found himself mindlessly kissing back and sucking on the tongue. A hint of tobacco filled his mouth.
A low, satisfied moan rumbled on the man's chest.
Dean heard himself moan too, but it wasn't the one that sobered him up from his trance. There's a hand on his ass, fondling a cheek, and Dean gasped awake when the man squeezed it a little roughly.
“What the fuck?!” Dean finally said, putting a hand between them and placing it firmly on the man's chest.
“Too much?”
“What the hell was that?”
“That was us, getting acquainted, baby.”
Dean tried not to flinch at that. The man leaned in again but Dean quickly pushed him away. “Quit it. Show me the stuff already,” he said. He might be a little heady by the kiss but he was still aware of his objective.
“Impatient,” humming, the man commented. He took a step back and reached for his low hanging swimming trunks. His fingers played with its drawstring before untying them excruciatingly slow.
And Dean couldn't seem to tear his gaze away.
The man then rubbed his tight, furred abdomen, fingers grazing along the treasure trail, before hooking his thumbs on the elastic band of his trunks. Just like how he did the drawstring, he slowly – and playfully – pushed them it down, revealing a soft thatch of pubic hair.
Annoyed and honestly bothered by how the show affected him, a blush creeping up his neck, Dean averted his gaze and glared at the smirking man before him.
“You like what you see— Oof! Hey!”
With a swift motion, Dean twisted the man's arm on his back and pinned him against one of the stalls' door. “What's your name, sir,” he asked and quickly examined the contents of the man's pockets with his free hand. Good thing the man was not struggling or fighting back.
Lighter... Cigarettes... Sunglasses… Condoms… what the hell?
“My what?”
“Name.”
“John.”
Dean rolled his eyes. He was no stranger to these perverts. That's what they always say. “Okay, John, no more bullshit and tell me your real name.” Aha, bingo. He found the man's phone and wallet, but still no drugs.
‘John’ sighed and answered, calmly, “Its John Eric Winchester.”
“Stay put. Hands behind your head,” Dean ordered, and to his surprise, ‘John’ did. Still not trusting the man, he checked the wallet for some IDs, and that maybe there were small sachets of cocaine or party pills hidden inside.
John Eric Winchester, Dean read on one of the IDs – school ID. Are you kidding me, a school teacher? This guy here?
He continued searching, but nothing.
“Are you going to tell me what's going on? I have rights, you know.”
“Well, John, you're interrupting a police investigation here.” Dean crouched behind John and thoroughly frisked each of John's strong legs.
“You're a cop?”
“Yes,” Dean grunted.
“Shit. Look, I know I'm a little slutty, but for the record, I'm not a prostitute or some sort, officer.”
“I don't think you are one. You don't have the look.”
"Ouch, I don't know if I should be flattered or offended by that, but sure, I just want to straighten that one out. So what's up, officer...?"
“Smith,” Dean supplied, “detective Dean Smith.”
“Okay, detective, as much as I like your hands on me, but what's the deal here?”
“I'm just checking if you have any drugs on you.”
"Oh shoot, detective, I think you— ah."
Reaching under John's parted legs and cupping his front, Dean questioned the questionable bulge in his crotch, “What's this?”
“That would be my penis.”
Huge, was Dean's first thought, squeezing it was second. The flaccid cock twitched in response. You couldn't blame Dean. John was packing a monster, and it's easy to be mistaken as something else.
“I won't do that again if I were you,” John warned as he flexed his cock in Dean's hand. “You don't want to anger it.”
Dean let go of the growing cock and turned his attention on John's backside. “How ‘bout this?” He felt a hard, circular object with a flat surface in the crevice of John's ass. He gave it a tap and John groaned above him, his knees jiggled like jelly.
“Th-that's my–” John released a trembling breath, “–that's my plug.”
“What plug?”
“I would love to tell you, detective. But given our situation, I'll just say that there are no drugs in there.”
"I don't think so.” Dean held the plug on its edge and began inspecting it through the cloth. He pushed it, tried to pull it, before wiggling it wildly.
John whimpered and pushed his ass back.
What the fuck is this thing, Dean thought and found himself reacting on the inappropriate sounds John made, his cock chubbing up in his shorts.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The door handle rattled, following the stern knocks. Dean was sure he locked it but a small part of him said he had forgotten. How careless of him.
Not wanting to be seen caressing a stranger's ass from behind, he bolted onto his feet and opened one of the stalls. "Get it and keep your mouth shut," he said and half-pushed John inside. The stall wasn't that spacious to fit two standing, overgrown men, so Dean had to push John down to sit on the toilet bowl to make room for himself.
John sat without complaining, and Dean strained his ears— but nothing.
The rattling came to a halt and silence quickly permeated the bathroom.
A full minute had passed and Dean was sure the coast was clear. Look at that, he had locked the door.
“Let's get you out of here.” Dean finally said.
Without a word, John stood up and crowded Dean.
Dean was about to open the stall when a large hand pushed it close. “What are you doing?”
“I'm just thinking that now that we're here, why not make the most of it?”
Dean glared at John but it melted as soon as John flashed him a charming smile. Were those dimples? Dean noticed them just now.
John took a step forward, pressing his hairy chest against Dean's, and brought his face up close.
For a moment, Dean thought John was going to kiss him again, and to his relief, John didn't. The man simply hovered in front of him, their lips a breath apart. And soon, relief turned to panic as John began to move.
John ground his hips and smiled at the moan he elicited from Dean's lips, his prominent bulge sliding against Dean's growing length.
“Get off,” Dean growled, lacking any heat behind it.
“And what would you do if I don't?” John challenged, thrusting his hips. Dean's mouth parted in a silent gasp and John continued, “You gonna drag me outside with your hard dick peeking out of your red, sexy shorts?”
Dean couldn't think of a good retort. He could push the man away, but with his pent up energy earlier from the pool and how this handsome man had kissed him, he couldn't seem to do so. All his strength was focused on not to thrust back against that delicious friction.
“Come on, detective, don't tell me you're not interested.” John eased the pressure on their crotch as he stepped back.
Dean bit back a whine at the loss of contact, but it didn't last long as John surprised him when the man reached down and pressed a palm into his erection.
John hummed, pleased. “Because I can tell. How about I get you off? I'll be quiet, I promise.”
A moment of weakness, Dean told himself – an excuse – when the words ‘do whatever you want’ passed his lips.
John's smile morphed into a full grin at that. He gave Dean a quick peck on the lips before sitting on the toilet bowl, pulling Dean's shorts down with him. Dean's thick and sizable cock bounced out.
“Not bad,” amused, John praised. He grasped it's base and stared at it hungrily. Without warning, he engulfed it into his warm mouth, wrapping his eager lips around its girth and slathering the underside with his tongue.
“Fuck,” Dean moaned in pleasure. His knees went weak at the sensation of slicked warmth working over his cock, alternating from sucking and licking, and he had to grab John's shoulder for support.
“You like that?” letting Dean's cock slip out of his mouth with a wet flop, John asked with a smirk. He then lifted it before burying his face between Dean's legs to suck on the heavy balls, one at a time. "You're fucking trembling."
Dean only nodded, his words were turning into moans of approval. John then continued to service him orally without missing a beat, swallowing his whole length in one go until his nose touched Dean's pubes. The tip of his cock was snug around John's narrow throat.
John hummed and swallowed around the mushroom head of Dean's shaft, his throat spasming, and Dean thought he'd come right then and there, at that mind-blowing pleasure. Thankfully, John pulled back for a breather
“Do it,” John gasped. He ran his lips along the underside of Dean's length and watched Dean tremble with a lustful gaze.
“Do what?”
“Fuck my throat.” John guided both of Dean's hands to grab onto his head and stuck his tongue out.
Dean didn't have to be told twice. He grabbed John's dark brown curls and took a moment to enjoy John's velvety tongue as he leisurely pushed inside that glorious mouth. The warmth, the slide, the pressure, everything was perfect. Then without a thought, he rammed his pole down John's throat. In and out, in and out, he began to pump his length into that tight chute.
Gag reflex, what was that? John was taking it like a champ. John's eyes watered but didn't complain at the rough treatment, slurping greedily now and then. Spit ran down the corner of John's mouth, and it's the perfect lubricant for Dean to plunge his cock into his willing throat with ease. Every thrust went smoother and smoother, bringing Dean more pleasure. Soon enough, the stall was filled with his moans and wet, slobbered smacks, his balls hitting John's lightly bearded chin.
So fucking good. Dean knew he couldn't last long. “I'm cumming.”
Locking John's head into an iron grip, Dean pushed his cock deeper and reached orgasm with a bellow. His cock pulsated, pump after pump, filling that mouth with his load. He must have blacked out for a second there as his body tensed and relaxed, enjoying the high of orgasmic bliss.
A grunt – or a moan, Dean wasn't sure – was what woke him up from his daze. Breathless, he looked down at the man before him, polishing the knob with enthusiasm.
Did he swallow it all? Dean felt bad for blowing inside without a proper warning other than an incomprehensible 'I'm cummm-ngh-ahh', but his worries evaporated as soon as John offered him a satisfied smile, cheeks beet red with exertion.
“Wow, that was awesome– shit.”
John sucked the over-sensitive head one last time, hard, making sure he got the last drop. “Best head you've ever had?”
Not wanting to stroke more of the man's ego, Dean only nodded.
“My turn then?”
“What?”
Still catching his breath, Dean was caught off guard by John's quick maneuvering, because in an instant, he and John had swapped places. In front of him, an obvious tent in John's trunks greeted him. Its tip was wet with… was that precum? With one smooth motion, John pulled them down and revealed his man-splitter, jutting from a well-manicured bush. It bobbed up and down, pre dripping from the tip, and couldn't seem to hold its weight with its size.
Fuck, Dean gulped. “Look, man, I don't really—”
“Shhh.” John leaned down to place a kiss on Dean's horrified face. He then picked up something from his discarded shorts and pushed it in Dean's hand. “Relax, detective, I won't hurt you.”
Dean couldn't answer. He looked in his hand and stared at a condom he had found before. “Wha–?” he asked, confused.
“I want you inside me.” John didn't wait for Dean to respond. He quickly captured Dean's lips with his and snatched the condom out of the guy's loose hand. Something clattered on the bathroom floor tiles, and the next thing was John was pushing down onto Dean's surprisingly still-rock-hard erection with intent.
“Fuck,” Dean gasped when their lips parted. He could feel it. The pressure and yielding resistance. John's hot hole was pulsating around his cock. It tightened and relaxed, stretching to accommodate his size, as John sunk in deeper and deeper.
John was breathless with anticipation. His face could only be described with intense concentration. “Fucking big dick,” he said in between breaths, rolling his hips, “feels so fucking good.”
“You like that, huh?”
"I fucking love it." Dean's cock slid out for a couple of inches as John lifted himself, then without warning he suddenly plunged down, taking the rest of Dean's length in one smooth pass. His ass was touching Dean's balls as he bottomed out. "Fuck."
“Fuck,” Dean echoed, rolling his head back in pleasure. John's insides was hot a furnace, and it felt as if he was melting.
John didn't let up. He leaned back, braced himself on Dean's parted legs, and began to move his hips. It was grinding at first, followed by lifting himself up and down, up and down, until he was full-blown fucking himself onto Dean's cock.
And Dean just watched in awe as the man riding him got lost in his own world, swallowed by the fog of lust. A constant stream of pre was leaking from the tip of John's cock, dripping and pooling on Dean's abdomen. It was exhilarating, to be inside of a tight yet willing hole, and Dean couldn't help but grip the man's ass as he began to thrust to meet John's bucking hips.
Soon, the stall – no, the entire bathroom – was filled with moans, grunts and skin slapping skin.
“Right there! Yes, yes, yes. Fuck,” John shamelessly moaned, furiously stroking his cock.
The man was a fucking wet dream with legs, Dean thought, another orgasm was building in his guts. Not only this was his first time messing around with a guy, but he also found John very attractive. Sweat covered their bodies and they're moving as if they have known each other for a long time, to an extent this wasn't just two men getting off. Dean had never fucked more passionately in his entire life.ls
“You close?” Dean asked.
John hummed in response and leaned in to kiss Dean, slipping his tongue inside Dean's mouth. Dean moaned. John then sucked and bit Dean's lower lip as he jerked off his cock.
Suddenly, John's body tensed, followed by thick ropes of cum shooting out of his dick with forceful spurts, moaning in Dean's mouth as he sprayed his load between their joined bodies.
As John shook above him, Dean fucked John's spasming hole with complete abandon to chase his own orgasm. A few thrusts later with John's anal walls milking his length, he came for the second time gasping for air. His cock pulsated as it filled the condom.
Both fucked out and breathless, neither of them attempted to move. They stayed like that for a couple of minutes, exchanging lazy kisses and mapping each other's bodies.
***
“Put that thing away.” Dean grimaced at John's butt plug the man had tossed and picked up on the floor. He still couldn't wrap his head around the idea that it was stuck up in John's ass earlier. Who could walk properly with that thing inside you, not to mention drive?
They looked presentable now – or at least wearing their shorts, after cleaning themselves using the small basin in the bathroom, and they're ready to leave as though nothing had happened.
With a click, Dean unlocked the door.
John heard it, and hurriedly blocked Dean's path, “Leaving already? What's the rush, Dean?”
Bobby will kill me, that's what. “I told you I'm supposed to be working. Now move.”
“Not without a goodbye kiss.”
“Don't press your luck, man.”
“Aww, you're breaking my heart here, detective.” John was probably teasing but Dean could pick up a tinge of genuine hurt in his tone. “Can I get your number at least?”
John offered his phone, and Dean stared at it, contemplating, really contemplating. He had fun, that's for sure, but giving his number? What would that make them then, a couple, just a fling, or fuck buddies? And why did it matter to Dean? Sex is sex. A hole is a hole.
Boom boom fucking ciao.
The door opened, and even though the yellow sign was still hanging on the handle outside, a guy wearing a hoodie – mid-twenties, Dean observed – squeezed himself between Dean and John to enter.
“That was wild here, you guys.” The guy whispered; a grin was drawn across his face. "I could hear you from outside. It's like free porn."
“The hell, boy, you getting your kicks listening to people fuck?”
Dean didn't say anything. He let John do the talking and kept his eyes on the young man.
“Can you blame me?” hoodie said. He shoved both of his hands in his front pockets and switched his weight from one foot to another. “You guys were loud. Really loud. You're lucky no one else heard you agreeing with each other.”
“Look, kid, I'm not gonna pretend that I'm listening to you right now. My friend here is in a hurry, and I'm trying to get his number, so fucking move it and do your damn business.” John did a dismissive swooping motion with his hand, gesturing at the stalls.
"Oh, I think you're mistaken."
Ignoring the young man, John regarded Dean, “So are you gonna be here tomorrow or I can meet you somewhere else?”
“I uh–” Dean started but he was cut off by the hooded guy.
“How about if I say I could offer you guys something better than sex?”
John closed his eyes shut at that, taking a deep calming breath. Annoyance was radiating from him.
On the other hand, the guy piqued Dean's interest.
“This one's on me,” hoodie said, offering a small plastic Ziploc containing three colored tablets. They looked like one of those Teddy bear vitamins for children, but Dean knew exactly what they were. “They work like magic, trust me.”
John's posture changed at the sight. In a beat, without consulting Dean, he tackled the guy down and pinned him on the floor. “Is this the guy you're looking for?” he asked Dean with a proud smile.
Sonofabitch. Dean quickly helped John restrain the thrashing man. “You shouldn't involve yourself with police matters.”
“Why not?”
“What if he's armed, huh? Who'll get the blame if you fucking hurt yourself.”
“Aww, you worried about me, Dean?" John teased, smiling. Turning his attention to the guy underneath him, he added, "He's worried about me, kid."
Dean only grunted, not wanting to admit it. Besides, he's a police officer, the public's safety was his priority.
With John's help, Dean was quick to frisk the man. Two dozen individually packed tablets, a couple of pills, at least twenty-five grams of cocaine, and thankfully no firearms or knives.
“You're lucky he got no weapon with him.” just a pusher.
“Yep, I'm pretty darn lucky…” John trailed off.
Raising a brow, Dean looked at John and waited for him to continue.
“...pretty darn lucky to meet you here.”
“That's so sweet, you guys,” the drug pusher said, amused. It seemed he had forgotten his predicament. “Anybody here getting chills or it's just me?”
Dean felt his cheeks heat up. In an attempt to ignore John, who was smiling like an idiot with his cheesy line, he turned his attention on the drug dealer. “Shut it, it's just the tiles. Wait. Are you high right now?”
“Don't know, you tell me.”
“Um, Dean,” John started, missing the teasing tone in his voice, “you want to grab a cup of coffee after this?”
Dean licked his bottom lip and thought about it. But if he's being honest, there's nothing to think about. On the corner of his eye, the guy was staring at him with a wide smile, waiting for his response.
Dean covered the man's eyes before giving John his answer with a nod.
John smiled, his dimples showing. He then leaned in to press his lips against Dean's. And Dean kissed back.
“Did he say yes? I can hear you guys kissing.”
“Shut up.”
“Shut up.” John and Dean said in unison, grinning at each other.
