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08 December 2009 @ 05:05 pm
Numb3rs/Supernatural Fic: A Different Kind of Hunter  
Posted to numb3rs_slash
Crossposted to sn_crossovers and n3crossovers


Title: A Different Kind of Hunter
Pairing/Characters: Ian/Dean
Rating: NC17
Spoilers: Sniper Zero (Numb3rs), Seasons 1 and 2 (Supernatural)
Summary: Dean meets a hunter who is friend and foe and certainly dangerous
Notes/Warnings: Read the disclaimer on my LJ


Wisconsin again: a state filled with slushy snow, cheese-related tourist traps and sheriffs who didn't look too closely at Sam and Dean's fake FBI IDs.

The local law had given them the 'appreciate any assistance' party line and handed over copies of the case files, even inviting them to the briefing session which was surprisingly well attended - a good number of the goodly citizens of Elk Fork, population 1,436, apparently drafted as volunteer deputies.

Sam and Dean had stood in the back and listened to the theories on who or what had been attacking the local townsfolk. They spanned from a deranged lunatic escaped from the mental hospital the next county over to a rabid wolverine from Canada, as if an American wolverine would never do such a thing. The Winchesters already knew what it was - they just were looking for clues on where to hunt it down. Once they'd separated to follow leads, Dean had flashed his badge and his most winning smile in the local watering hole trying to get the current gossip from the best looking waitress in the place.

As he sat nursing a beer a stranger slid into the booth across from him - a tall olive-skinned man of about forty who looked as if he might be at least part Native-American. He had jeans and a denim jacket on, but they looked a tiny bit too nice for him to just be an Elk Fork farmer. It was his demeanor that made Dean sit up and take a quick mental inventory of all the weapons on his person. This man, while he seemed not to show any animosity to Dean, was clearly dangerous.

"FBI, huh?" he said, cocking his head in Dean's direction. No introductions, no niceties. Just the facts.

"That's right," Dean bragged. As long as he could keep the upper hand with this guy he'd be fine. "And you are?"

"A hunter," the man said cryptically. "Maybe I can help you find what you're looking for."

A hunter… Whatever kind of hunter he was, he wasn't one Dean knew. He sized the man up, taking his time. He had a kind of coiled energy about him that rang familiar. Former military, he guessed, probably because he saw echoes of his father in the man. The comparison to a wild animal was easy to make: his expression was feral, his body still yet poised for action, his dark eyes hungry and intense. Dean felt his temperature rise under the man's unwavering gaze. He'd rarely been the prey on the receiving end of a predator's prowl, but he was certainly feeling like this man had designs on making Dean his next meal.

"Maybe." He met the man's eyes and the man just stared back as if it was a test of wills, one neither was going to back down from.

The return of the waitress broke both their gazes and the man turned to speak to her directly.

"Could you bring us two pieces of paper and a pen or pencil please?" he asked, a flash of white teeth making his smile oddly wolfish.

"Sure," she said brightly, looking only a little confused. She returned a second later with a pad, tearing two sheets off for them, then pulled a pencil out of her apron pocket to set it on the table.

"Don't go anywhere," he ordered her before directing his attention back to Dean, sliding over a sheet and the pencil to him. "I want you to write one word on that paper and leave it face down. I'm going to do the same with my sheet."

"And what word would that be?" Dean asked, raising an eyebrow at him. This whole scenario was getting more surreal instead of clearer and his patience wasn't the best when people weren't been killed by things that went bump and slash in the night.

"What you think is behind these attacks." The fact that he said what and not who gave Dean pause. Maybe he really was a hunter. It's not like his father hadn't sheltered him and his brother from meeting their kind in the world. They'd met some through Bobby and Ellen, but it was a big country, a big world, and every time they didn't save someone another family had a reason to spawn at least one hunter in their midst. "Once we both write them down," the man explained, glancing up to read the waitresses name tag, "Mandy here is going to look at both of them. If they match, she'll tell us and we'll talk. If they don't match? Well then, we'll just take our papers back and go on our separate ways."

"All right." He was taking a chance, but remembering how badly it went last time he and Sam took on a beastie like this an extra pair of hands - particularly attached to a body that looked like it could do some serious damage - would come in handy. That is, as long as Dean passed his weird little test. Taking a breath, Dean wrote the word 'Wendigo' on the paper and pushed it over, face down, to Mandy.

Rolling the pencil across to the man, Dean waited as he wrote his answer down and slid his paper over to her as well.

Mandy lifted both of them up and compared them. "They match."

"Thanks, Mandy. You can go now," the man told her, passing her a folded bill that she smiled at and tucked into her apron pocket with the rest of her tip money. She departed, looking pleased yet confused as the man flipped his sheet over to show Dean that indeed he had written 'Wendigo' on it. "So we're hunting the same thing it seems." The man held out his hand for Dean to shake. "Name's Ian Edgerton."

"Dean Winchester," Dean said, for some reason thinking this was someone who should know who he was for real, not his fake FBI ID name. His instincts still told him this man was not to be trifled with, that he was truly dangerous, but he was on their side - safe to hunters but not to monsters.

"Figured." Ian scribbled something on the other side of the paper then rose. "You and your brother have a penchant for using fake IDs with classic rock band member names so when the sheriff told me about the FBI agents who were in town already the odds were pretty damn good it was you and Sam." Bristling, Dean looked up at him, senses on full alert at this revelation. Ian just slid the paper over to him, completely nonchalant. "That's my motel information and cell phone number. After you talk to Sam give me a call and we'll compare notes on where to go look for this thing. And a bit of advice?" Ian huffed out a little chuckle. "Don't flash any fake FBI IDs when a real FBI agent is around." He pulled out his FBI badge and ID and showed them to Dean who swallowed hard, tensed to bolt if necessary. "And no, I'm not here hunting Winchesters. I'm hunting Wendigo. So I'll forget your outstanding warrants if you two can forget you're lone wolves and accept some help with this thing."

He made to leave, but Dean put out a hand to stop him, eyeing him warily.

"You're not here as an FBI agent, are you?" he scoffed, keeping his voice down. "You know this isn't a case for the Feds just as much as I do."

"Let's just say my interest is more on the recreational side," Ian replied with a smirk. "I hunt down dangerous people for a living. I put them behind bars - and occasionally in the morgue when they leave me no choice - as my 9 to 5. But for those I can't put behind bars…" He lowered his voice. "For those that aren't people? I hunt them down on my off time because they're even more dangerous and you and I know that someone's got to do it."

He started to walk way but Dean called after him, getting out of the booth. "So does that mean you're going to forget you're a lone wolf too?"

Turning back, the corner of Ian's mouth curled up in a wry grin and he paused for a moment as if considering his answer before speaking.

"I suppose I might just have to - just this once." He cocked his head, taking in Dean's body from head to toe in a leisurely sweep that made all Dean's thoughts of hooking up with Mandy after the hunt evaporate. "But after it's done, we both walk away - as if it never happened."

Dean nodded and watched Ian walk out of the bar dead certain of one thing: he wasn't talking about the hunt.

-

The paper was still crumpled in his jacket pocket as Dean pulled the Impala into the parking lot of the Elk Fork Lodge off Highway 36, but he knew what it said as sure as he knew he could trust Ian.

Sam would be dead now, or at least a lot more messed up than he was, if Ian hadn't helped them take out the Wendigo. Cleaned up, stitched up and doped up on the last of their good painkillers, Sam was sleeping off his injuries in their motel. Dean had watched him for a while, making sure he was all right, before getting dressed again and heading out into the night.

Sam knew he hooked up with people; it wasn't a big deal between them. Dean had just never seen any reason to clue Sam in that sometimes his nocturnal wanderings took him into a man's bed for a change of pace.

This, though? This could be truly different. He was always the alpha in the bedroom - and in the alleyway and in the bar bathroom and in the backseat… Wherever his libido led him. But Ian was someone who would never allow Dean to step into that role with him. Ian was the rare man stronger than him and - at this point - trusted enough for Dean to really let go, lose control, and it had been years since he'd fully turned himself over into the hands of another person. That sort of release, that particular respite, was too much of what he needed to pass up.

Number 17 was the end unit, the furthest from the manager's office and the closest to the highway. Only the first few rooms looked occupied so clearly Ian had asked for the most privacy possible and gotten it, probably by flashing his badge.

The fact that Ian was an actual FBI agent - a fact Bobby had confirmed when Sam called to check his story out - should have made Dean want to pack up his brother and put as many miles as possible between them, but here he was raising his hand to knock at Ian's door at one in the morning.

A quiet rap and the door opened. A wave of heat rushed out, almost hitting Dean in the face as it swirled around him, chasing away the cold of the night with almost sauna-like temperatures.

Ian stood in the doorway, shirtless and in bare feet, wearing only jeans. He didn't speak, he just stepped back to admit Dean as if he'd expected him, closing and locking the door behind him.

"Jeez, it's like a hundred degrees in here," Dean huffed as the near oppressive heat enveloped him.

"I like it hot," Ian said simply. "It feels more like the desert this way. I miss the desert."

With a gesture to inform Dean of his intent, he reached up to slip Dean's jacket from his body, the act slow, deliberate and seductive - more of a strip than a mere removal. As Dean stood still in the middle of the room, Ian went about systematically removing his clothing. Boots came off next, then socks. His flannel overshirt followed along with his t-shirt until he was only in jeans as well.

As he'd stripped him Ian had circled him, eyes taking in each new baring of skin with avid eyes. Now Ian moved around him closer, fingers trailing over honey-tanned skin several shades paler than Ian's bronzed body. His fingertips lingered on every scar, every sensitive spot until he stopped behind Dean - breath hot on the back of his neck as Dean fought his body's urge to quiver in anticipation. Sharp teeth grazed the taut tendons in his neck, nipped the tense muscle in his shoulder then retracted, leaving slightly chapped lips to ghost up to his ear. "You know what else I like? I like leather."

Ian let his body graze against Dean's back for a mere second - denim scritching denim, twin points of nipples skimming against his shoulder blades - then left him, heading over to a duffle bag across the room on a low dresser.

The strips of leather Ian pulled from the bag were long, about an inch or so wide and well tanned, their oily brown surface glinting in the glare of the single bulb overhead. It hit Dean that they might have come from a horse's tack: reins.

Ian looped part of a strip around his hand then ran the leather-bound hand over Dean's chest, equal parts human and animal skin making contact with his flesh.

"A simple no will stop me," Ian told him. Dean knew this, but Ian seemed to be waiting for a response so Dean just nodded the barest of nods, unable to give more attention than that, his focus so strongly on the hand currently working its way down his abdomen to where his jeans hung low on his hips.

Dean let his eyes fall shut as Ian's nimble hands - Bobby had said Ian was a sniper, one of the best in the world, so these hands were lethal weapons - worked open the buttons of his jeans, Ian's short nails scraping lightly through the coarse hair just inside his fly.

Ian shifted behind him - Dean could sense more than hear him move - and set to shoving his jeans down so Dean could step out of them. Bare, the heat of the room and his own raising temperature left him with a bead of sweat making its way down his spine to the crack of his ass, a companion bead falling from his temple down his chest.

Ian's leather strapped hand brushed against the base of his cock, teasing, building his need. Two fingers separated and slipped on either side, just enough sensation to feel but not enough to feel satisfied.

Dean let his head fall back for a moment, hoping Ian would give him more, but the hand withdrew leaving him wanting until a jolt of a surprise met his senses: Ian licking up a drop of sweat from his spine from the hips up, a long laving of his tongue in a line almost up to his shoulders.

When Ian stepped away, Dean opened his eyes and let out the breath he didn't realize he'd been holding. When Ian kneeled in front of him a rush of excitement made the blood flow to his groin, but instead Ian took a leather strap and carefully tied it around one of Dean's thighs as high as it could go. As Dean watched, perplexed, Ian did the same with the second strip, leaving long loose ends.

"Give me your hand," Ian ordered, looking up at him.

With a sharp intake of breath, Dean realized Ian meant to bind him, leave him helpless and completely at his mercy.

He could have taken Dean's wrist; it was close enough to reach. But Ian wanted this, wanted Dean to agree to it.

His heart racing, Dean shifted his arm just enough to present it to Ian to be bound. His mouth went dry watching the leather go around his wrist. He knew that knot, knew how hard it would be to try to get out of it.

He forced himself to calm. If Ian wanted him dead or in jail he'd had plenty of opportunity. And Sam - whenever he woke up - would find the note Dean left so he wasn't at risk of being tied up and left there. Still, every fiber of his being railed at being confined and when Ian looked up to him for his other hand, Dean had to force it into position, gritting his teeth even as Ian rendered him unable to protect himself.

Once he had him naked and bound, Ian circled Dean again, this time making no effort to hide his predatory ways. His touches were greedier, his eyes victorious and he leaned in from time to time to taste him: laving a tongue over a nipple, nibbling at the edge of his jawline, scraping his teeth along the arc of a bicep.

Finally he came around front and grabbed Dean by the back of his neck, pulling him into a voracious kiss, one that devoured him and he surrendered to it, surrendered to the greater strength in an intoxicating moment where control was not just given away but taken by superior force.

Ian more shoved him away than released him, Dean rocking on his feet, a quick rush of concern at the idea that if he fell he couldn't break his fall with his hands. As Ian stalked back to his bag, Dean made himself breathe steadily, fighting down his harshly beating heart.

He watched as Ian pulled out a condom and a packet of lube. That was one issue addressed. A large sheathed knife was pulled out of the bag and set aside, hopefully just to get it out of the way, then Ian pulled out a set of fingerless leather gloves a slightly lighter shade of tan than the reins. He tugged them on, giving Dean an appraising glance as if trying to decide where to begin.

"Turn and face the bed," he ordered, unbuttoning his jeans with one hand.

Already standing at the foot of the bed, Dean turned to the left to face it, putting Ian essentially behind him out of his sight. It was only after he turned that he realized that wasn't exactly the case. A mirror above the headboard revealed Ian coming up behind him - now naked - reaching for him with gloved hands.

The leather was thin and butter soft but with the slightest texture to it that made Dean's skin spark where Ian ran his hands over it. He watched in the mirror, transfixed, as Ian's hands roamed his nude body, already gleaming with a sheen of sweat from the heat, taking it all in.

And then Ian's hand closed around his cock and a groan escaped him. The leather caressing his shaft, Ian's calloused fingertip thumbing the head… And then Ian's other hand was as his ass, a slicked finger seeking entrance. Rocking back between the tunnel of Ian's fist and the penetration that teased so close to where he needed it, Dean felt himself start to slip away. This was what he had wanted: to shed all his self-doubt, to forget his life and his responsibilities, to not have to worry about pleasing his partner, to just feel.

When Ian pulled his finger free and rubbed his slick cockhead against Dean's entrance he tugged at his bonds, growling, aching for Ian to hurry, to give him what he needed so badly now.

The breach was paired with a twist of Ian's wrist and Dean cried out at the dual sensation of being speared just as his cock threatened to explode from overload. Somehow Ian held him back, sliding inside and shoving him forward into the smooth surface of his gloved palm with each strong stroke.

"Watch." Ian's voice in his ear sounded far away, but Dean forced himself to look into the mirror and watch himself come undone under Ian's skilled hands - one pumping his cock as the other skated over his pecs, nails scraping the nubs of his nipples.

Dean's lungs rebelled at each inhalation of hot dry air, his lips crackling dry almost right after every swipe of his tongue. He strained against the ties that bound him, feeling the leather cut into his thighs and wrists, cresting: close, so close…

He saw it happening, but Dean wasn't ready for the rush of pleasure as Ian sank his teeth into Dean's shoulder - hard. His whole body went rigid, a primal shout wrenched from his very core as he erupted, emptying himself in one moment of absolute blissful oblivion, leather bonds near to breaking as Dean broke, the last of his control gone, taken from him by the most delicious means ever.

Panting hard, his breath caught as Ian withdrew, the sensation enough to make them both shudder one final time. Wobbly on his legs, Dean turned and let himself fall backward on the bed, staring at the ceiling almost unseeing as his body drew in the necessary oxygen to recover.

Ian appeared over him with the knife, unsheathed, but when he lowered it it was only to cut the bonds from him.

"No way I'm getting those knots out after how hard you pulled on them," he huffed, his tone good-natured if still a little breathless.

"Sorry to ruin your good leathers," Dean tossed back, keeping his tone equally light.

"I can get more." Ian tossed the remains of the leather aside and Dean realized the gloves were off as he put the knife back on the dresser. Ian sat beside Dean for a moment, both just breathing, before speaking again. "Stay?" The request was simple and Dean let his now freed hand travel from the bedspread up onto Ian's thigh, skating up the sweaty skin there to the crease of his hip, letting his finger play in the slick dampness there.

"Yeah." Dean offered Ian the same half smile he'd given Dean back at the bar. "Even wolves stop for a while when they get hungry." He sat up, sliding his hand to Ian's inner thigh. "And I could stay for a bite."

"In that case…" Ian had him pinned and straddled so fast Dean's head almost spun, but he reveled in the feel of Ian over him, Ian's power over him, Ian's scent on him. Ian leaned down and licked a salty stripe up Dean's arched bared neck. "Let me see what I can do to whet your appetite…"

=
 
 
 
Emma DeMarais: BlueEyeemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 01:08 am (UTC)
Confession
This ficlet was written for last year's Holiday Gifts for my F-list prompt from heliokleia. It turned out kind of long - and I kind of liked it - so I decided to publish it for real. (With a bit of a push from T, I admit.) Then, once I figured I was going to publish it for real, I figured I should do another pass on it to make it better. Before I knew it, the fic had grown from about 700 words to about 3700 words. /blinks/

In rewriting the original fic, which spans just the first section, I doubled it in size from about 700 to about 1400. Then I figured that ending it with just a teasing glance from Ian as to what might come later was mean to readers and I should just sit myself down and write the porn. I enjoyed writing Ian/Dean before, and I enjoyed writing Billy/Dean very much, so I figured I should give it a go.

Thus ~3700 words.

The original version was just okay. This one? It turned out kind of hot so I'm glad I put the extra time and effort into it. Ian+Dean+Leather… That's some delectable Numb3rs math if you ask me. ;-)

Apparently there exists a place called Elk Fork, though not in Wisconsin. Highway 36 does exist in that state, though I don't really know where it goes and if they have sheriffs out there. Frankly when I made up the name Elk Fork I was surprised to find one existed.

No cheese was harmed in the making of this fic.

Very special thanks to betas melissima and t_vo0810 for their assistance with this fic.

Thanks,

Emma DeMarais
fyreflyfyrefly101 on December 9th, 2009 02:23 am (UTC)
You broke me with the leather.

*guh*.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 04:47 am (UTC)
Score! \o/

I thought that might be a nice approach to this pairing. /grins/
t_vo0810t_vo0810 on December 9th, 2009 02:29 am (UTC)
I second fyrefly101's comment. I think my brain or at least my ovaries spontaneously combusted when I got to the leather. guh. unf. going to my bunk now. damn
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 04:54 am (UTC)
Thank you for kicking my ass to publish this one, hon. I wouldn't have had any of this delicious leather porn if you hadn't poked me to put it out. ♥

/sends Ian and Dean clones to your bunk/
Zubeneschamali: kindazubeneschamali on December 9th, 2009 03:44 am (UTC)
Yes, Ian could so totally be a hunter. That was...really enjoyable. :)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 05:28 am (UTC)
Z! Nice to see you! I'm thrilled you gave this fic a read. Ian really is a nice fit in the SPN universe. I wrote one short Ian/Dean before (and a longer Billy/Dean where he *really* fits in to the world of hunters) so I had been tempted to come back and spend more time with Ian in Dean's world. Putting Sam and Dean in the Numb3rs universe was tougher, but this way's a whole lot more fun!
(no subject) - zubeneschamali on December 10th, 2009 05:15 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - emmademarais on December 10th, 2009 08:30 pm (UTC) (Expand)
(no subject) - zubeneschamali on December 11th, 2009 07:45 pm (UTC) (Expand)
rubynye: Tilly (Hyel)rubynye on December 9th, 2009 04:03 am (UTC)
Holy thousand gods of smut! My brain, it is melted!
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 05:29 am (UTC)
I hereby stamp this comment with "Made of Win"!

I feel like LJ Queen for a Day now! /preens/

Thank you, my dear!

(And sorry about your brain! /loans you a mop and bucket/)
One Part Exuberance; Two Parts Obsession: hottpenguingal on December 9th, 2009 05:17 am (UTC)
YUM.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 9th, 2009 05:24 am (UTC)
Oh yay! I was hoping you'd see this one and read it. /is happy/

Am I bad for wanting to scribble an arrow on your icon pointing to Dean's ass and the words "Ian taps this"? Hehehe
ftollefftollef on December 9th, 2009 06:51 am (UTC)
Um. Okay. That was. Um. Wow! Great story to read before bed. I'm
not going to look at bridle reins the same way again.

I love the idea of Ian being a monster hunter. I could really see him
doing that.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 12:04 am (UTC)
Thank you! When I wrote Ian/Dean before he was just FBI, but I did write Billy Cooper/Dean with Billy doing some monster hunting and that was cool too. I thought it would be near impossible to crossover such a mundane fandom as N3 with SPN, but so far it seems to work!

And yeah, horse tack and Jensen Ackles: a potent combo for the sensory memory. /grins/

Thanks for taking the time to read and comment!
riverotter1951: Firestarriverotter1951 on December 9th, 2009 04:29 pm (UTC)
Wow. I've never seen Supernatural but it's now at the top of my Netflex list. The reason I never watched is that it was on at the same time as one of my favorite shows. Yes, i know I could have recorded it but never did. Thanks for the ride.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 12:06 am (UTC)
Really? I thought you had picked up SPN at least a little in the past. It's got some really good brother stuff in it so if that's a big reason why you like N3 you'll probably like that aspect of SPN as well.

It took me most of Season 1 to get hooked, but by the end of S1 I was completely in. The mythology episodes are spectacular in S1 and S2 so if you can be patient with it, it gets really good pretty fast.
devon99 on December 9th, 2009 07:31 pm (UTC)
My goodness, sizzling noise, brain melting, can't typ.......
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 12:06 am (UTC)
HEE! I count that as one huge WIN! /dances/ Thank you!
(Deleted comment)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 12:07 am (UTC)
Re: hotstuff!!
Thank you! I'd come up with a better response, but I think I fried my own brain writing this. /big grin/
(Deleted comment)
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 07:25 am (UTC)
Ah! Welcome to my world of bunkworthy porn!

/offers a platter of cookies/

In a world where Dean Winchester hasn't yet been slashed with every human being worthy enough of his hotness, I'm here to add to the body count notching his belt. /snicker/

Glad you enjoyed it!

P.S. I'm lusting after your icon! It's gorgeous! /covets/
labseraphlabseraph on December 10th, 2009 07:36 am (UTC)
*wipes drool discreetly*

Very interesting pairing.

Ultra hawt.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 10th, 2009 07:45 am (UTC)
Thank you! I wrote them once before (and Billy/Dean as well), but I got a request to revisit the pairing and it turned out much better/longer/hotter the second time around!
graceandfiregraceandfire on December 10th, 2009 09:07 am (UTC)
Wow. That was awesomely hot and very in character. I've always had a soft spot for Ian.
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on December 11th, 2009 03:40 am (UTC)
Thank you so much! I adore Ian and him having been so different in the span of his tenure on Numb3rs (from scary SniperZero!Ian to jovial Toxin!Ian to shocking Ultimatum!Ian) he's really flexible in fic as well. You can write him so many ways and he's still easy to tie to canon. /grins/
lucdarling: Bernardlucdarling on December 15th, 2009 03:08 am (UTC)
uh. wow.

I really like the idea of Ian as a hunter. (I'm only through S1 of Numb3rs. but I <3 Ian already.)
and him + Dean + leather... it's a good thing I'm already in bed!
calamity_kittencalamity_kitten on September 11th, 2010 04:25 pm (UTC)
Oh, wow!

That...pushed buttons I didn't know I even had! I love both Supernatural and Numb3rs but I've never read a crossover, didn't even think of it, actually. But this...oi!

Ian and Dean, that is one pairing that I could easily fall in love with. And you wrote them both so well, I could actually hear them in my head.

Thanks for sharing!
~ Kit =^.^=
Emma DeMaraisemmademarais on September 11th, 2010 08:39 pm (UTC)
Thank you so much! This pairing was so hot to think of and then the fic turned out so much better than I imagined. (The leather aspect just really pushed it over the top.) I got a request to read it aloud for my roommate recently because she remembered liking it so much and I didn't complain! LOL

I do have one other Ian/Dean if you're interested. It's shorter, but I figure it couldn't hurt to offer to share it.

Back Alley Therapy

Thanks for taking the time to read and leave such a nice comment!
(no subject) - emmademarais on September 11th, 2010 08:42 pm (UTC) (Expand)