Author's Note: This starts off with a somewhat graphic sex scene. If that's not your thing, don't read it. P.S. "SLASH" means lots of male/male love. Not your thing - don't read.

Dylan – [Waking up is Hard to Do]

"Just give me the fucking keys," I grumbled. Raoul had tried and failed to unlock the door to his house six times already. I was drunk, too, but I could apparently handle my liquor better than he could. I grabbed the keys from his hands and he giggled, leaning into me a little bit.

"You're so hot," he told me in a stage whisper. At least he was attempting to be quiet. I wasn't sure what his neighbors were like in this area, but I didn't want to piss anyone off.

"You're not so bad yourself," I replied. I stuck the key into the lock and unlocked in the door, opening in one swift motion. Raoul stumbled in the door and I followed him, shutting the door behind us. We'd entered the house through the living room - a really nice one, at that. Leather couch, large flat-screen television set, fancy bookcase. Raoul hadn't told me he was rich. I didn't think cops made that much money.

"How the fuck can you afford this shit on a cop's salary, Raoul?" I asked.

"Ramon," he replied, an answer that made absolutely no sense to me. That alcohol was really affecting him.

"That doesn't make sense," I told him.

"My name is Ramon, not Raoul. I told you at the club, remember?" he said, raising his eyebrows. I thought back to the club. It had been too loud, with all the music and the grinding bodies, for me to really understand what he was saying. I'd heard the first part, and maybe I'd just assumed. I mean, he looked Hispanic, with his dark eyes, dark hair, and tan skin. Ramon was a better name, anyway.

"Oh, sorry dude."

"No big," he said, shrugging. We walked out of the living room and into the kitchen. I set his keys down on the counter top, taking another look around. I didn't get a chance to look for very long, because a moment later, I was shoved against the counter top, Ramon's hands on either side, his mouth sliding against my own. I grabbed his shoulders, kissing him back hard and strong, nudging my leg between his. This was my favorite part of the night. Well, second favorite to the part where we're both naked.

"Bedroom," I said, when we broke apart, "Now." I know, we could've done it right there in the kitchen, but I'm a bit of a traditionalist when it comes to that part. Plus I love sneaking around in other people's bedrooms after they've fallen asleep.

"Yeah," Ramon agreed, moving his mouth to my neck, where he proceeded to attempt to give me a hickey. Bad idea. I pushed him off.

"Now," I repeated. Hickeys would be hard to explain to my boss. To the kids I worked with. I did NOT want to have that conversation with a bunch of ten year olds.

"Right." Ramon sighed, clearly disappointed that he wasn't going to get a little more action right here, and headed towards the stairs. He took them two at a time, and I tried to follow, but I was so drunk that I slipped and banged my head against the step. Hard.

"Jesus fucking Christ!" I exclaimed. That fucking HURT.

"Oh shit!" Ramon exclaimed, turning around to look, "You're bleeding!" he added, his voice rising an octave in panic. Shit. I reached a hand up to my forehead to feel. Yep, it was warm, and when I brought my hand to my face, my fingertips were covered in blood.

"I'll be all right," I told him, slowly standing up. I put my hand to my forehead again. I could feel the injury tingling underneath my hands, slowly stitching itself back up. In a minute, there would be no bruise there. All I had to do was rinse the blood off, and I'd be fine.

"Dude, you're bleeding from your head. Shouldn't we call a doctor?" he asked, his voice still in that higher-pitched worried tone. The good thing about rapid healing powers is that you pretty much never have to go to the doctor. The bad thing about rapid healing powers is that you can't really tell anyone else, and they think you DO have to go to the doctor. It's a pain in the ass.

"I'll be all right," I said, "It's just a tiny little thing. A lot of blood, but it doesn't really hurt." I went over to the sink and turned the tap on. Ramon followed. After rinsing my hands off, I cupped some water and brought it to my forehead, rinsing the blood off.

"Are you sure?" Ramon asked, "Because I can call a doctor if you really need one." He was really worried. I felt the injury again, but the cut was gone. I rinsed it one more time and then showed Ramon.

"See, no big deal." He stared at it for a moment, and then reached forward, tentatively touching his hand to my forehead, where the bruise should have been. He looked skeptical as his fingers explored my forehead for a sign on injury.

"All right," he said, shrugging, "If you say you're all right, I guess you're all right." He looked like he didn't want to believe me, but I was glad that he did. If he took me to the doctors, besides being a real mood killer, I'd have to explain why I didn't have an injury anymore, and not all the doctors were that keen on super-humans. There was still some prejudice about us when it came to things like that.

"Good, let's go upstairs, now?" I asked, raising my eyebrows at him. Ramon grinned and we made another attempt up the stairs, this time successful, with no injury befalling anyone. When we got to his bedroom, he pushed the door open and I headed inside. I didn't get a chance to take a look around right away, because Ramon pushed me back on the bed, climbing on top of me and proceeding to attempt to give me a hickey, again.

"Dude, I like the kissing and all," I said, arching as he sucked a little hard, "But I really don't need a hickey on my neck. So can we stick to the easily concealable areas?" I asked. Ramon released my neck and gave me a slow grin. Oh, fuck this was going to be all kinds of fun.

"If you say so," he said. In a flash, it seemed, he'd pushed my shirt off and began assaulting my chest, at the same time attempting to unbutton my pants. I reached for his pants and tried to do the same. If you've ever been in a situation where two people are trying to take each other's pants off at the same time, you'll realize how much of an issue I was having. I pushed Ramon's hands off mine and slid my pants off myself, waiting for him to do the same.

Ramon slid to the side of the bed for a moment, unzipping his jeans and sliding them, so slowly, off his body. Underneath was a pair of white briefs, doing very little to cover up that magnificent piece of manhood. I got all tingly, anticipating that inside me. Usually I ended up going home with the skinny, obviously gay, white guys that did nothing at all to turn me on, and got squicked at the thought of fucking. They thought gay sex was taking each other's clothes off and mutual masturbation or blow jobs.

But Ramon, oh, Ramon had been so hot, standing there at the bar, leaning against it and looking around like he owned the fucking place. The way those jeans had encased his sexy, muscular legs, and his tight t-shirt put his brilliant chest and arms on full display for everyone – well, that completely turned me on. And then he had approached me at the bar. We danced, and then it had progressed pretty fast from there into "wanna go to my place?" and now here we were.

"What are you staring at?" he asked me, raising his eyebrows and quirking his lips, looking amused.

"Just take the fucking clothes off," I growled, "Let's not take all night undressing, huh?" But I smiled to show that I wasn't mad. No, not made at all, just incredibly turned on and impatient.

Ramon stood up and faced me, his hand at the waistband on his underpants. He smiled at me, his eyes half-closed. He was swaying a bit, probably due to the drink. He put his other hand at the waistband, but he didn't take them off yet.

"You wanna see it?" he asked, like his dick was some huge prize. I already had a pretty good idea of how impressive it was, and he had a right to be proud of it. I swallowed the lump in my throat and nodded, feeling unable to speak.

Then he started swaying on purpose, rolling his hips like he was some kind of dancer. His eyes were closed now, and his hands in the air as he turned around, slowly, still swaying his hips. I wondered if he was trying to channel Elvis. When he had his back to me, he put his hand back on the waist of his underwear and slowly slid them down. I watched, the tingling feeling moving to the pit of my stomach, and lower, and he slowly revealed the backside. I like a good ass as much as the next guy, but I was really looking forward to seeing his front side. The underwear was gone, and he kicked it off to the other side of the room. And then he turned, so slowly. He was playing a game with me, one that I didn't want to play, but was still enjoying anyway.

And then I saw it. He was facing me, full frontal, and I was given a wonderfully delicious view of his glorious cock. I stiffened a little more, feeling like I was going to explode with arousal, and he hadn't even touched my cock yet.

"Oh fuck," I whispered. Ramon grinned, and in another instant, he had descended upon me, kissing me on the mouth with a fiery passion. His dick was pressed against my stomach, and I reached down with one hand to feel it.

"You like my cock?" he asked, sounding amused.

"I love it," I replied, nudging him back on the bed. He lay down, and I proceeded to show him with my mouth, exactly how much I loved it.

Watching him on the bed, moaning his appreciation, was a huge turn on for me, more than anything else we had done so far tonight. His cock was too big for me to fit it all in my mouth at once, but I like to think I did a good job of taking a lot of it in, sucking and using my hand at the base.

"You're very good at this," Ramon said, gasping between words. He didn't even have to speak out loud, because I could tell by his response that I was making him happy. He threaded his fingers in my hair and I continued to suck, taking him as deep as I could go, and then back out part way. I felt him tense up, so I stopped. I didn't want him to come until we'd gotten to the fucking part, so I took my mouth off and slid up his body to kiss him, long and wet.

"Where's the condoms?" I asked.

"Top drawer," he said, pointing with a quavering hand to the side table. I crawled over to the side of the bed and over to the drawer, taking out what we needed.

"Would you like me to suit you up?" I asked, grinning widely. Ramon nodded, eyes still half-lidded. He was so gorgeous to look at that I was going to regret leaving him in the morning. Still, I didn't know what kind of person he was outside the bedroom. He could be clingy and selfish and a neat freak. I didn't want to have to deal with that. Once Ramon was suited up, I knelt down on the bed, ready for the real action to begin.

He knelt behind me, and started preparing me with his lubed up fingers.

"Don't worry about that," I said, grunting a little at the feel of it inside me, "Just fuck me." With the whole rapid healing thing, anal sex was a lot easier, but most guys didn't seem to care. They were always worried about 'hurting me', not understanding that a little pain was part of what made sex so much fun.

"All right," Ramon said, giving in. And he pulled his fingers out. A moment later, I felt the head of his cock pushing into me, and I relaxed, letting him in.

"Oh god," he said, groaning, "So hot." I liked that he could barely speak in full sentences. It meant that he was just as turned on as I was. He was sliding his cock in slowly, not as fast as I would have liked, but I let him ease himself in, not wanting to rush something so pleasurable. He slid out, slowly.

"Okay, you can go a little faster there, buddy," I said, "I'm a big boy, I can take it." That seemed to be all the welcome he needed, because he was suddenly fucking me, really fucking me, hard and fast, hitting my prostate in a way that made me moan out loud.

I loved the sound of his moaning and my moaning mixed together, which turned me on even more. I reached between my legs and started pumping my cock in time to his motions. It didn't take long for us both to come, he first, and me following shortly after. We collapsed on the bed in a heap of sweaty limbs. The two of us lay there for a moment before he forced himself off the bed to grab a towel to clean up with and toss the condom away. He lay back down on the bed with me.

"You don't have to leave right away," he said, "I don't mind if you spend the night." I hated when guys said that, 'cause it made me look like an asshole if I got up and left right then. I didn't want to leave right away, though, because Ramon's body was warm, I was still drunk, and he had a nice, big, comfortable bed to lie in. It wasn't like I'd never spent the night at a guy's house before, but usually it was because the sex was exhausting enough that I didn't have the strength to get out of bed right away.

But Ramon had been accommodating enough in the first place, and his bed was quite comfortable. Besides, there was always the chance for a quickie in the morning before I left. So I curled up next to him on the bed, closed my eyes, and fell asleep.

The sun streaming through the window woke me up the next morning, and I stretched my arms and legs, bumping into Ramon at the same time. I turned and looked at him. He had his arms spread out above his head, and his legs stretched out. He was completely naked, lying on top rather than underneath the blankets. The way the sunlight lit up his body made him look like some sort of god or heavenly being.

Briefly, I debated waking him up for a little fun before I had to go to work, but in the end, I decided to let him sleep. He looked so peaceful, and I didn't want to ruin that. I slid off the bed and stretched again. Then I grabbed my clothes off the floor and got dressed. My cell phone had fallen out of the pocket of my pants and I picked it up off the floor.

"2 new text messages". I'd check those later. Probably from my roommate, Shane, asking where I'd been. I'd think he'd be used to me not always coming home after work by now, but apparently he wasn't.

Once I was dressed, I headed down the stairs, as quietly as I could manage, not wanting to wake Ramon up. I reached the bottom of the stairs and looked around. The way the sunlight illuminated the kitchen made it even more appealing in the day light.

When I reached the threshold of the living room, though, I stopped dead in my tracks. It was not empty, as I had expected. No, there was someone in there. An attractive someone, too.

A tall, muscular black man was stretched out on the couch, his legs crossed on the table in front of the couch. He was watching the television, some cartoon playing. He was wearing a black suit, white dress-shirt underneath, a blue tie, and his arms were crossed over his chest. He had short black hair, and a strong jawline. I had never seen anyone that attractive before, and I was totally, completely, turned on.

I wasn't sure if I should go ahead and walk through the living room like it was no big deal, or if I should make myself known. I wondered if Ramon was like me, hiding his sexuality from his roommate, or if he was out to all his friends. I didn't have a chance to make a decision, because suddenly, I sneezed. The black guy turned and saw me. He picked his feet up off the table and stood up.

"Are you, uh, Ramon's roommate?" I asked, fingering my cell phone in my pocket. The guy shook his head, snorting.

"Hardly," he replied, "We work together. He up yet?" the man asked. Standing up, he was even more attractive, the way his shoulders were accented by the fit of the suit making him looking like a big soldier or something. He said he worked with Ramon, which made him a cop. I would love to see him in that sexy cop's uniform.

"He's still sleeping." I wondered if this man knew what Ramon and I had been doing. He didn't seem at all bothered by the fact that there was a strange man in his friend's house. "You, um, you're a cop then, huh?" I asked.

"Detective," he said.

"You have a car?" I asked.

"Yes..." He looked confused.

"Well, we drove Ramon's car back from the club, and it's kind of far to walk..." I said, trailing off.

"Don't leave yet!" I heard Ramon's voice, and turned towards the stairs to see him coming down, now wearing a pair of gray sweatpants, but still not covering up his chest at all. Oh my.

"Uh, I have to get to work," I said.

"What time?" Ramon asked, "You could stay for breakfast, and I could drop you off."

"Uh, well, I guess I could do that," I replied. More time spent with sexy cop guy and Ramon.

"Awesome!" Ramon grinned and continued down the stairs. "I see you've met Warren already."

"Well, not exactly," I replied. Warren? What kind of name was that for a guy like him? He looked like he'd be more comfortable with a name like Tyrone or Brick or something like that. Warren made me think of a family man, with kids and a wife. Oh god, he was probably married, with two little kids - a girl and a boy, one of each. All American, and all that.

"Warren, this is Dylan," Ramon said, "Dylan, this is Warren, my partner from work. There, now you've met." The big grin on Ramon's face reminded me of a little child.

"Nice to meet you," Warren said, shrugging. He looked at Ramon. "What's for breakfast, then?" he asked, turning to Ramon.

"I dunno. Pancakes?" he asked.

"And I suppose I'm the one cooking them?" Warren replied, raising his eyebrows.

"Unless you like them burnt?" Ramon asked. I enjoyed watching the two banter, as though they were old friends. Or lovers? That wouldn't really make sense with me being there. If they slept together, then wouldn't Warren have a problem with me being there? Unless they were in an open relationship or something. Ramon hadn't mentioned that at the club.

"All right, fine." Warren took his jacket off and hung it over the chair. Then he rolled up his sleeves. Ramon and I sat down at the table as Warren got to work preparing breakfast for us. A man that could cook, now that was sexy.

"So, Dylan, what do you do?" Ramon asked.

"Do?" I thought of an inappropriate answer about exactly what I did - but he already knew that from last night.

"Yeah, your job," Ramon said, "You know I'm a cop, but I want to know what you do." Was this going to turn into something serious?

"I work with kids," I replied. I didn't really want to tell him exactly what I did, because that would require me to out myself as a para-human, and I didn't like to do that to people I didn't know, no matter how sexy they were.

"Really?" Ramon raised his eyebrows, "Not something I would have pictured from you."

"Well, it's a long story. It's a mentor-type program that I was a part of when I was younger, and the guy hired me because he thought it would help control my wild ways. Obviously it didn't work." I grinned.

Ramon grinned back, eyebrows raised.

"You like working with kids?" he asked. I shrugged.

"The ones I work with are all right. I work with a group of twelve year olds," I explained, "I don't like the little ones as much."

"Yeah, they can become quite annoying after a while," Ramon replied. He glanced over at Warren, who wasn't looking at either of us at all, still concentrating on mixing the pancake batter. It smelled delicious.

"You like your job?" I asked, "Being a cop and all. Do you write traffic tickets or something?" I asked, mostly joking. If he was a traffic ticket kind of guy, he wouldn't have let me drive his car home when we were both fairly tipsy.

"Not traffic tickets. I work in homicide," he explained. Warren glanced over at him, sending a warning look.

"Oh, calm down, Warren, I'm not going to tell him anything," Ramon said, waving his hand dismissively. Of course now I was intrigued, but I was going to do a good job and keep my mouth shut... or not.

"Sounds fun. Listen, you guys know anything about those disappearances? The whole 'Vampire' thing?" I asked. Ramon's face told me I'd hit the nail on the head.

"We are not at liberty to discuss that," he told me, "Whatever you've heard on the news is the only information we're allowed to discuss." His voice was flat, as though he were reciting something he was required to say. Like they did at the news conferences.

"Aren't you worried about all that stuff?" I asked, "I mean, what if these guys don't get caught? What happens to the people getting kidnapped, or whatever?" I asked. The particular cause was worrying to me because the only people getting kidnapped were para-humans, "supers", and that meant that there was a very good possibility of me being taken.

"Honestly, the best you can do is just to be safe. Don't walk down dark alleys at night. Carry pepper spray or something," Ramon said, shrugging as though he weren't bothered at all.

"What if these guys are really vampires?" I asked, "If they're really kidnapping people to drink their blood, do you think pepper spray is going to stop them?" I was surprised that a police officer would be that cavalier about something so potentially dangerous.

"If they really are vampires, then there's really nothing you can do, unless you want to walk around with a gun and silver bullets," Ramon replied.

"I think that's werewolves," Warren replied. He had finished the first batch of pancakes and set them on the table.

"Vampires, werewolves, what's the difference?" Ramon asked, still grinning. He and Warren exchanged a look that I couldn't quite interpret. I wish I'd been given the power to read minds. It might have come in more use than being able to heal fast.

"I guess the only safe ones are the people with super speed," Ramon replied. I shrugged. I had yet to meet a para-human that actually had that power. Most of them were fairly low-key powers, like mind-reading, my super healing, and shape-shifting (werewolves, and so forth). The conversation died as we each served ourselves breakfast and ate.

After breakfast, Ramon and I took his car and he drove me back to the bar, where my car was still parked. He entered his phone number into my cell phone, telling me to call him sometime. Then he drove off, and I got into my car to head to work.

As I sped down the road, music blaring, I checked my text messages. "Where R U? Will U B home 4 dinner? – Shane". I deleted that one. Then the other "Ur mom called here. U should call her back! – Shane". I deleted that one, too. My mom had probably just called to chat and tell me about how she and Theo, my step-dad, were doing. I could call her after work.

When I pulled into Oswald Labs, where I worked, it was ten past nine. Considering my usual record, only ten minutes late was pretty fabulous. The receptionist, Simon, was at the desk, answering a phone call, when I got there. Simon was pretty cute, in a boyish kind of way. He had sandy blond hair, blue eyes, and was quite thin. His work uniform was a pair of khakis and a light blue polo shirt, both of which made him look so clean cut and wholesome.

I approached the desk and waited for Simon to finish his phone call. When he hung up the phone and he looked up at me.

"Only ten minutes late, Dylan!" he exclaimed, "Is that a new record?" I shrugged, grinning.

"You look nice today," I replied, "Get a haircut?" I asked. His hair didn't look any different, but I liked the way he blushed whenever I complimented him. He was fun to tease, but he wasn't someone I'd ever screw around with.

"I'll buzz you down," he said, ignoring my question. He pressed a button and the large steel doors slowly creaked open. I had my badge in my pocket, and I took it out, because I'd have to use it to get into the elevator, and then into the training area where my kids were.

After I got down to sub-level eight, where I worked, I got off the elevator and swiped my badge for the training center. The door unlocked and I entered. It opened to a long hallway, with several doors on either side of the hallway, leading to the different classrooms and offices. The first door on the left was Nelson's door. Nelson was my boss, and my former mentor. I didn't bother knocking, and just opened the door. Nelson was sitting at his computer, typing something.

"You're late," Nelson said, not looking up from his computer at all, "Your kids are in the computer room, waiting for you. I've got Ben watching them." He told me. I rolled my eyes, glad he couldn't see.

I left Nelson's desk and went to the computer room at the end of the hall. The three boys were at the computers. Carlos was sitting on one side of the room, and Adam and Eric were on the other side, sharing a computer. Ben was sitting at the desk in the middle, flipping through a magazine. When I entered, he put the magazine down and stood up, walking over to me.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on them for me," I said, faking a smile. Ben leaned closer, his voice in a loud whisper. He pointed at Carlos.

"I think the little one is a little..." He made a limp-wrist gesture. My face hardened. What an asshole.

"Thanks for keeping an eye on them!" I repeated, my voice hard and unforgiving.

"Seriously, I think he's a fa-"

"THANK YOU BEN." I repeated. Ben rolled his eyes, but he left. I shut the door behind him and went to work.

Our day was fairly busy, what with training in the gym – all three boys were also para-humans, with the same super healing ability that I had – thus the reason I had been in charge of them. Besides training in the gym, we did school work and working on their social skills. The program had evolved from the bare-bones mentoring program I was a part of in my youth. There were a lot more kids in the program now, and more space in the laboratory had been allotted to the program.

After work, I headed home, knowing that Shane probably wanted me to get home. He wasn't there when I got home, though – probably he was still at work. There was a note on the fridge for me, however.

DYLAN --- YOUR MOM CALLED SEVERAL TIMES. SHE SAID IT WAS ABOUT YOUR FATHER. CALL HER BACK AS SOON AS POSSIBLE. SHE SOUNDED VERY WORRIED.

-- SHANE

P.S. I'LL BE BACK BY SEVEN; I'M BRINGING CHINESE FOR DINNER.

My heart pounded a little harder as I dialed my mother's phone number. Something about my father. If it was Frankie, the sperm-donor who left my mom when he found out she was pregnant, then I wouldn't worry. But if it was Theo, my step-father, the man who had raised me, then I wasn't sure what I would do.

Nervously, I pressed SEND on the phone, and held the receiver to my ear. It rang once, twice, before my mother answered.

"Hello?"

"Mom? It's Dylan. I'm sorry I missed your call. What happened?" I tried to keep my voice calm, but it was damned hard.

"Dylan? Honey, it's Theo. He's..." she trailed off. My heart stopped, and I couldn't breathe.

"What?"

"He's dead." I dropped the phone.

This is a re-write of "Three Men & A Witch", with a LOT of details changed. Also, mixing in another story that I never got far with. This is what I'm writing for National Novel Writing Month, so you won't have to wait long for updates. Hope you like it! Reviews make me feel special!