#and i think jack would probably be gay with him. They’d talk about their brothers together | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

melancholyandfrogs · 3 years ago

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The Devil (Rewritten)

!! TW : depression, suicidal ideation, self-harm, child abuse, mentions of abuse, mentions of sex/sexual assault, mature themes and adult language !!

This book is a original wattpad book that I (the author) have rewritten to be better as an adult because I wrote the original as a child™ and it is terrible. But here’s some things about the rewritten one:

This wild story begins with a boy named Xavier Wolf ruing the moment that he agreed with his best friend, Calum, to take a photography class just to be with him despite the fact that he’s been doing photography since he was twelve, and then realizing that maybe something—or someone—could make him hate his school a little bit less.

❝Because his best friend would say "It will be fun!" and "All the Seniors who sign up for it get it together." and honestly, more than he wanted to have at least one class with someone he could tolerate, he just wanted that person to shut the fuck up about it.

Calum Hilton was more annoying than he was convincing.

But Xavier guessed he got what he wanted in the end, so it didn't matter what way he got it.❞

He lives in a small town and goes to a small school but a place like that breeds big personalities and both her best friend and local troublemaker (he’s on a first name basis with most of the police there).

If there’s three things you need to know about him it’s this: he’s not scared to fight god, he’s the most bi™ man to exist but on the downlow—you probably wouldn’t think he’s gay but once you know, you know—and he will hit you if you insult someone that he cares about.

He is an ENFJ-A, also known as the Protagonist—

“Protagonists are born leaders, which explains why these personalities can be found among many notable politicians, coaches, and teachers. Their passion and charisma allow them to inspire others not just in their careers but in every arena of their lives, including their relationships. Few things bring Protagonists a deeper sense of joy and fulfillment than guiding friends and loved ones to grow into their best selves. These personality types have an uncanny ability to pick up on people’s underlying motivations and beliefs. At times, they may not even understand how they come to grasp another person’s mind and heart so quickly. These flashes of insight can make Protagonists incredibly persuasive and inspiring communicators.”

He’s also an Enneagram type Eight, known as the Challenger and the Rescuer—

“Eights are self-confident, strong, and assertive. Protective, resourceful, straight-talking, and decisive, but can also be ego-centric and domineering. Eights feel they must control their environment, especially people, sometimes becoming confrontational and intimidating. Eights typically have problems with their tempers and with allowing themselves to be vulnerable. At their Best: self- mastering, they use their strength to improve others' lives, becoming heroic, magnanimous, and inspiring. Their most basic fear is being harmed or controlled by others (again).”

Xavier was born (November 6th, a Scorpio) and raised in that small town, but more specifically he was raised in a tiny, cramped house with his abusive father and caring but inattentive mother. When he was twelve, because his father drowned his mother and was promptly arrested (as he should have been, he was thrown into the foster system.

Instead of staying in it, Calum’s family took him in—after his parents, Macy and Jack realized what was happening to their only son’s best friend, that if their son was in that position... well, they’d want somebody to help him—and he was raised as his brother.

In the book there is a lot of touching moments between Calum and Xavier (Cal is surprisingly protective over him) and even some quite caring and telling moments between Xavier and Macy, his adoptive mom, that show a stark difference between her and his biological parents—though Jack is a quite, reinforcing kind presence that doesn’t get much scene time.

At this time, he’s separated from his little sister who stays in the foster system throughout most of the book (spoiler: she eventually gets adopted by Xavier late in the book, after he turns 19 and proved he could be a stable caregiver).

He grows up as a slight outcast; acting out because of his past and way of denying help when offered to him, breaking into places, doing minor illegal things, getting into trouble at school and acting out his anger through violence (which sends him spiraling because he wants to be the epitome of Not His Dad).

Another big thing about Xavier is that he holds himself close, you won’t know what he really cares about or what he doesn’t until it’s too late and you’ve crossed a line, offended him or forced him to pass up an opportunity because you assume that he doesn’t want to do That Thing.

Throughout the book, he’s seen as a big, influential presence but it’s all the small things that slowly help Emma evolve into a rather functional person instead of the depressed, dragged-through the mud person we see at the beginning of the book.

Xavier himself goes through a few changes, and has to heavily focus on being more open and able to handle changes. His inability to do this at the start of the book causes a lot of problems with him and Emma: he doesn’t want to get together and ‘affect her’ without realizing they’re already acting like a couple.

So, Xavier Wolf:

he has a need for uncoerced and enthusiastic consent involving not only intimate touch and sex, but most things that he will do physically alongside someone, even if it's just go on a walk somewhere at night

he’s ungodly tall, like six and a half feet tall, and a punk bitch

he also walks old ladies across the street

he recognizes people's 'safe places' and takes them there even when they don't ask/it's not a safe place to be, just to help them emotionally

his favorite color is orange, because he thinks it would be stupid to say "Sunset." when people ask

he's good at recognizing trauma in others and doesn't let them avoid it if he thinks it will help

he won't talk about people's problem or force them to get help even if their troubles are glaringly obvious, because he understands emotional consent (does this when noticing Emma's self harm)

he says “ma’am” and “sir” respectfully

will punch an old man if he thinks it won’t kill him

because of a genetic thing, his canine teeth closely resemble fangs (he has fangs) and because he thinks it’s funny, he threatens to bite people to scare them—and actually does bite Emma, who likes it, a lot

he growls like a fucking dog because his vocal cords are deep and he can

ironically, is a cat person (he calls small dogs ‘it’ even if he knows the dog’s gender)

he's surprisingly good at communication, contrary to popular belief because he’s him

he plays as the quarterback (ik, steretypical) on his school’s Varsity team, and his jersey number is 66

he calls Emma “Princess” because when she was sleep deprived she compared herself to one (she doesn’t know this) and he thinks its the cutest thing when she blushes because of it

he doesn't believe in 'too much too soon' but will not let things get overwhelming around him too fast (if he can help it)

he won't break a boundary on purpose, ever

while he doesn’t get them often, when he does have a panic attack, it is really, really bad

his love language is quality time

The reason the book is called ‘The Devil’ is because that’s the nickname that Xavier’s dad gave him and because of that it stuck with the local police because as a younger boy when he was asked his name after being arrested the first time, he said “Devil.”

It became A Thing™

And now we have the Devil, and it’s main character and love interest—

Then we see the girl, Emmeline Carter, going throughout her daily rather dull life with a party happy and boy-crazed best friend, Jessie. Now Emma isn’t excited to go to parties but enjoys the ‘teenage experience’ nonetheless, so doesn’t have to be convinced to go either.

❝Anxiety is her entire body existing in a physiological and mental state of emergency in the absence of danger while her mind tried to convince her that she'd be happier shoving a pencil through her eye or jumping from a two story window just to see what would break.

Her home life doesn't help.

Sometimes her best friend, Jessamine Thatch, does. She laughs with Emma and Emma knows that crazy girl is the only reason she has any semblance of a life.❞

She is one of those people who like to take orders but hate being told what to do, someone with crippling low self esteem but when in the mood, has a god complex that could rival God herself, and consistently thinks that it’s fun to do Dumb Things that her best friend told her Not To Do.

Emma isn’t afraid to die, but if she’s going to go—and she does plan on dying, just so you know—it is going to be one hell of a fun ride.

She is an INTP-T, also known as the Logician—

“Logicians pride themselves on their unique perspectives and vigorous intellect. They can’t help but puzzle over the mysteries of the universe – which may explain why some of the most influential philosophers and scientists of all time have been Logicians. This personality type is fairly rare, but with their creativity and inventiveness, Logicians aren’t afraid to stand out from the crowd. It would be a mistake to think that Logicians are unfriendly or uptight. When they connect with someone who can match their mental energy, these personalities absolutely light up, leaping from one thought to another. Few things energize them like the opportunity to swap ideas or enjoy a lively debate with another curious, inquiring soul. Ironically, Logicians shouldn’t always be held at their word. They rarely mean to be dishonest, but with their active minds, they sometimes overflow with ideas and theories that they haven’t thought through all the way. They may change their mind on anything from their weekend plans to a fundamental moral principle, without ever realizing that they’d appeared to have made up their mind in the first place. In addition, they are often happy to play devil’s advocate in order to keep an interesting discussion humming along.”

She’s also an Enneagram type Four, known as the Individualist and the Romantic—

“Fours are self-aware, sensitive, and reserved. They are emotionally honest, creative, and personal, but can also be moody and self-conscious. Withholding themselves from others due to feeling vulnerable and defective, they can also feel disdainful and exempt from ordinary ways of living.”

Fours and Eights are known to mix well, they’re also known as the rescuee/survivor and the rescuer/fixer.

“Both Enneagram Fours and Eights are intense and have strong emotional responses; both seek to get a reaction from the other, and both can be dominating of their environments—Eights are socially dominant, Fours are emotionally dominant.”

In this way, they make a more solid match but in others, unless they both heal (which they do) it also sets couples up for failure when one heals and the other stays the same, or one fails to give the other protection in places they needed it most.

As the four, this is definitely shown in the ways Emma seeks shelter in Xavier.

When Emma was growing up she was a child of divorce and half the time lived in a big city with her father where she attended school, had a bunch of friends and lived and breathed out of the theatre program -using different school programs and plays to show off her voice.

Early into her pre-teen years after a singing competition her and her father were cornered by men looking for a pretty penny, those men attacked—after her father refused, because he didn’t have much on him, and told her to run—and ended up accidentally shooting him with a fatal blow.

One of the men chased Emma down and ‘stripped her of her innocence’ as a punishment for causing them trouble.

The other half of Emma’s time was spent in that same small town with her mother, the same drug-addict, reckless mother who doesn’t remember her own daughter’s birthday (January 30th, an Aquarius) and will punish her just for being loud, interrupting her or just, sometimes, existing.

Because it’s mostly neglect with all the other stuff—hitting, coercing her into doing drugs/drinking—Emma doesn’t classify her and her mother’s relationship as abusive, just toxic, but in reality it’s both.

This is seen in passing moments in the book, none of it will be huge, significant feeling moments because they shouldn’t be; for Emma, it’s all normal, so it’s treated as normal.

Because of her surroundings, she makes herself feel more insignificant than she is and because of that, she isolates. This is also seen often, as she has to be pulled away from being alone to go and hang out with her friends—even though it’s already seen that while being alone, she doesn’t like the thoughts it brings.

Emma is also someone with severe depression (caused by a mix between untreated trauma, chronic depression, grief, neglect and abuse via her mother) and is someone who self-harms. In the book, nothing she does is described in detail but there are bad moments experience through her eyes and her wounds and scars are mentioned multiple times.

A big thing about her is that she will use humor and sarcasm to cope with difficult things even when it is not an appropriate time at all to try and be funny/use sarcasm, and will continue to do so because if she doesn’t, well, cue the anxiety attack.

She’s very vocal when she thinks what you’re doing is wrong and will always find the opportunity to comment something about a situation if she thinks it will be received well, but won’t speak up for herself if she wants/needs something or something is going wrong for her.

Throughout the book, you constantly get Emma’s input and while she changes very, very slowly over time, if you read the first chapter and the last chapter, it will be like you’re reading about two different people. She does a complete one-eighty and even her mental health is better.

So, Emma Carter:

she loves to be touched, her love-language is physical touch so even if it’s just being sat next to, she will soak it up until you call her out on it, where she’ll pull away and deny it

she’s on the short side, but will also kick you if you call her short—her cousin Cameron does this a lot, his nicknames for her range from ‘squirt’ to ‘short stack’ and she despises loves them all

she has a terrible time recognizing that she’s at her emotional limit until she’s already there, and because of it she has a bad habit of lashing out

when she’s in a really bad space she will sit at her father’s grave and sing until she falls asleep

that’s her safe place—this is shown a lot by Jessie mentioning that she ‘smells like the outside’

her favorite color is grey, because it’s her father’s family—the Carter’s—color (she has a silver dragon ring from him that is her most precious item)

she’s good at making people laugh when they’re sad and doesn’t let them cry around her without making them laugh, and sometimes Jessie even gets mad at her for it

while she’s not inherently pushy, if somethings bothering her for a while she won’t let it drop

she gives people really shitty nicknames for fun

will use an insult as a nickname, and also will think it’s endearing to call someone a ‘shitfish’ habitually

because she’s predisposed to it, she’s really scared that she’s going to be a drug addict or alcoholic one day but drinks anyway when she’s feeling down because she thinks doing the opposite is like delaying the inevitable

she likes being bit a lot

she’s a dog person (she will slap Xavier in the chest every time he gives a dog a dirty look, and tell him she’ll make him sleep in a kennel)

makes dog jokes about Xavier last name every chance she gets to piss him off

pun master

she’s surprisingly good at art, contrary to popular belief due to her terrible handwriting

she calls Xavier “Devil” only in moments of pure smugness and comedy, and otherwise avoids the negativity by calling him it, will otherwise call him “Zay” or more commonly, and dog nickname she can think of because she thinks his glare is so hot

she doesn’t believe in soulmates or ‘love at first sight’ and will argue with Xavier or Jessie for hours when they try to convince her otherwise (and Jessie does often)

she will always help you, whether you want it or not

she doesn’t really get panic attacks but she will have anxiety attacks, go numb and space out often

One of the biggest thing in the book in not conforming to stereotypes, and the way that she treats Xavier is big on this, despite her nickname being ‘Princess’ of all things.

And now we have our main character—

The story kicks into gear by one simply action: Jessamine ‘Jessie’ Thatch making her best friend sit next to the Devil because wanted to sit next to Calum ‘that’s her boy-toy’ Hilton.

It all starts because of that damned photography class that Xavier hates so much, but really, really starts because of one thing: when Xavier sees Emma for the first time, he can’t look away.

❝He was surprised—no, not surprised, he was shocked—to stumble in step and feel his heart beat erratically in his chest the first time he saw her.

The brunette looked tiny, fragile in some fatal way as she sat atop one of the desks, jacket slack on her shoulders as she leaned back, tank top tight enough to show off her curves but loose enough not to get yelled at by a teacher.

The ends of her baggy jeans were tucked into dirty black boots, and, with one foot balanced on her knee, he could see that on the bottom of the sole the words 'Fuck Off' were sharpied into the boots.

Her brown hair was in a falling apart bun on her head and the girl looked like she could care less. The girl wasn't particularly attractive, she had bags under her eyes and a scowl on her lips where two snake bites curled around her lower one, but she was still pretty to him.

It helped that her pearl-grey eyes were stunningly captivating.❞

These two teenagers will go through parties, sex, his football games, fights, laughter, nights of drinking, beach days, parent problems, best friend problems—everything—together.

Despite that, they’re snarky as fuck together, even if they’re adorable too.

Exhibit A:

Simply put, this story is about a boy who calls himself the Devil and a girl who has gone through hell.

Read it.

2 notes · View notes

adhdeancas · 4 years ago

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For @theangelwiththewormstache, I kind of went all out and searched through your blog to see what you like and headcanon, sent a few sneaky asks to find out more, and wrote in all the things I wanted for everyone’s happy ending. it got... unbelievably long.

Merry Christmas and enjoy :)

Love, Cas over at @let-me-live-in-peace and @samwinchestersleftshoe

PS: thanks to @destielsecretsanta2020 for organizing this!

Click.

Dean sighed and nodded, pulling the phone away from his ear so he could stare at it expectantly. Right about…

It rang.

“Cas,” Dean said languidly, like an asshole who didn’t know why his boyfriend was calling him back.

“Sorry. I forgot again.”

“I know.” Dean couldn’t keep the smile out of his voice if he tried. And he tried.

“I love you.”

“I know.”

“Dean.” A hint of well-earned annoyance.

“I love you too, Cas.”

“Bye.” And another click. Dean grinned and pocketed his phone. The dumbass was still too impatient to wait for an answering goodbye. Guess they’d never be the couple to argue about who should hang up first. Then again, Dean kinda liked it this way. It was just a few more seconds of teasing and a special call to say I love you, that was kind of nice, right? Jesus he was a sap.

“Earth to Dean? Wanna stop daydreaming about your boyfriend for a sec and get back on task?” Claire was standing there waving a hand in his face, bitchface firmly planted. Dean gave her one back.

“Don’t be homophobic.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m gay.”

“Yeah.” Dean kept walking, looking around at the rows on rows of Christmas trees. He stole a glance back at her. “Where is Kaia anyway?”

Claire blushed and crossed her arms over her chest. She would never tell him, but Kaia had hung back to give her some alone time with Dean. “She wanted to hang out with Jack. Guess she didn’t want to stare at your ugly mug all day.” A grin then, as Dean laughed at her joke.

“Fine, fine, guess you’re stuck with me.”

They roamed around a bit, both insisting on cutting down their tree themselves, Claire winning the fight to get to carry the ax. (Yes, Sam had suggested they bring a chainsaw. They had both refused because they needed to “earn the Christmas tree.”)

“Cas wanted a fraser fir.” Dean remembered, pointing to the section marked for them.

He felt, rather than saw, Claire roll her eyes, which, that’s exactly what Dean had done when Cas first told him. “Dork. Do you always do what your boyfriend tells you?”

Dean shrugged. “Pretty much. You?”

“Yeah.” They shared a soft smile before going back to their regular shit-talking. It was just The Dynamic. They searched a little bit more before they found one, the perfect tree that was big enough to make them both giggle over what Sam’s reaction would be when they brought it home.

It… takes longer to cut down a tree than you would think. Than either of them thought. Especially when you bring an ax and especially when you choose an obnoxiously large tree. They took a break about halfway through, sitting down in the snow and passing the thermos of hot chocolate Jack made them take back and forth (Claire spiked it with Bailey’s, which Dean chose not to comment on but was grateful for).

“Hey Claire… is it weird? Seeing me and Cas,”

Claire looked at him warily, seeming to consider what possible ulterior motives he had. Then, figuring she was the one with the ax, she answered. “A little. But I never saw my dad this old. Or this gay.” She gave him a grin and Dean flipped her off, taking the ax out of her hands to get back to the tree. “It’s good.”

Dean paused. “What is?”

“You and him. You’re good for each other, you can tell. Don’t overthink it.”

Dean’s lips curled up. “Sounds like something Cas would say.”

“Yeah, well, sometimes the dork is right. Don’t be an idiot.” She shook her head at him. “Jody had to remind me all the time at first.”

“What?”

“That I… y’know. Deserve it. Her. To be happy.” She put the last bit in quotes, saying it sarcastically, but Dean could see the truth of it in her eyes.

“Yeah, well, Jody’s smart like that.” He took another swing at the ax and tried to believe it for himself. It got easier every day.

------

Cas was left at home with Kaia and Jack while Dean and Claire got the tree and Sam and Eileen got food supplies. (Dean had protested, but Sam had -correctly- said that if given free rein, he wouldn’t get any vegetarian options and would get 10x more junk than they needed.) Jody, Donna, Alex, Bobby, Charlie, and the rest wouldn’t be here until the next afternoon. Christmas afternoon.

“So what should we do first?” He was a little bit nervous, being once again put in charge of the kids.

“Paper snowflakes?” Jack suggested, his excitement all too obvious from the smile on his face. Kaia glanced at him, amused by his obvious enthusiasm. Claire had braided his hair before she left while Kaia painted his nails (black, because they don’t own any other color of nail polish). It was clear they were pretty bonded.

“Sounds good to me.”

Kaia had to teach both of them how to make paper snowflakes. Cas tried to make perfectly symmetrical snowflakes; Jack kept cutting his in half on accident which made a bunch of smaller snowflakes. Hey, it worked.

“So… what’s the deal with you and Dean?”

“Deal?” Cas flushed a little. Everytime someone asked it thrilled him all over again. He was dating Dean. Dean. Was his. Had told him so, straight to his face. And he got to kiss Dean whenever, and sleep with him, and make him make noises only he got to hear, and listen to all his worries and weird fears and recaps on the latest episodes of Dr. Sexy.

“Cas?” Jack was knocking on the table lightly. Kaia had two raised eyebrows and a little smile.

“That good, huh?” She could relate. Everytime she thought about Claire she felt all warm inside, and going home to her at the end of the day was like a dream, especially after being apart for so long.

Cas looked down, called out. “That good.” he agreed.

“How disgusting are they, Jack, on a scale of cute to rip your own face off cute?” Kaia leaned over the table now, shit-eating grin plastered firmly on her face. Jack looked delighted to be in on the joke, which made Cas happy in spite of himself. Jack really needed this time with kids his own age. (Well, kind of. He was technically three.)

“Well, they do cook together…”

“Do they do that thing where one of them comes up from behind and puts their head on the other’s shoulder?”

“Oh yeah.”

“Dean or Cas?”

“Cas watches. He can’t cook.”

“Hey!” It was true. Cas was just arguing for the principle of it.

“But the movie nights are the cutest. One of them always falls asleep on top of the other one.”

“Probably at like 10 o’clock. You guys are so old.” Kaia teased, shifting her attention back to Cas.

Cas shook his head and pointed his finger at the two of them. “I never should have had children.” Kaia stuck her tongue out and Jack followed suit. Proving his point. Kids.

---------

“Hey, you dorks just gonna let us do all the work, huh?” Dean shouted from the garage.

“Yeah motherfuckers, get in here!”

Cas let out a half-hearted “Language!” before following Kaia and Jack through the halls. Claire pulled Jack into a side hug first before tugging Kaia in for a kiss. Dean would’ve followed suit, except Claire had actually left him to carry the whole fucking tree himself, which Dean, like an idiot, had actually attempted. Cas hurried over to help him, which earned him a glare lined with gratefulness.

“Oh yeah, have a happy little reunion over there, don’t mind me or this giant tree!” Dean griped at the kids. “Let the old men handle it!”

“Hey, you said it first.” Claire raised an eyebrow at Dean and pulled Kaia and Jack off into the bunker, probably to go find Miracle. Dean sighed heavily, muttering under his breath.

“You brought that on yourself.” Cas informed him, grunting under the effort of holding up half the tree.

“Thank you, babe. Very helpful.” Dean rolled his eyes. Cas pretended he didn’t feel a jolt of happiness at the most sarcastic ‘babe’ he’d ever heard.

-----

They managed to haul the giant-ass tree into the library and set it up, barely. It did almost crush Cas, but Dean tugged it upright at the last moment, prompting a joke about Cas dying again. (“Hey, you’re not allowed to make those anymore, you’re human now, dick.”) And a kiss that all the kids whooped and hollered at.

Then Cas showed Dean and Claire around the decorations they’d made while they were out. The greatest hits included paper snowflakes, ornaments, and a Christmas tree on the wall made out of old license plates. Dean clapped Jack on the shoulder to congratulate him on his crafts while Kaia held Claire’s hand and pretended not to be affected by the praise sent her way.

By the time Sam and Eileen got back, they’d decorated the tree, all the chairs in the bunker, and the stair-rail with lights and tinsel. Sam let out a whistle when he came back in, which brought Miracle, Jack, and Cas to greet them. (Claire and Kaia were busy telling Dean all about their local gay bar. Which, considering they lived in South Dakota, was quite the story.)

Dean’s eyes lit up as soon as he saw his brother and Eileen come in the kitchen with their bags. “Okay Dean, before you ask, we went with apple, pecan, pumpkin, and cherry.” Sam looked at Dean warily, who stared back at him over the girls’ heads with narrowed eyes, deciding whether or not to fight. The amount of pie ingredients he’d put on the list had been truly outrageous.

“Would like to remind you that the kids are making cookies and cheesecake too.” Eileen reminded him. Dean continued to look around suspiciously until Cas sat down on his lap.

That’s great, Eileen. Cas signed to her. He will be fine.

Eileen rolled her eyes. Whiner. Sam let out a snort and Cas grinned at her. Dean glared.

“What’re you saying?”

“Learn to sign better and you’d know.” Sam smirked.

“I’m working on it!” Dean protested and wrapped his arms around Cas’s waist, tugging him in possessively. He was going to try to sign something else but settled for a middle finger pointed straight at his brother. Hey, it was sign language.

Cas leaned back and kissed him on the cheek for his efforts. His memory landed on one particularly frustrating night for Dean when they’d been practicing his ASL (Cas knew every language of course) and Dean just couldn’t remember the most basic of things. Lamp, field, tree. The more frustrated he got, the more words started to leave him. He’d started swearing under his breath and stomped out to the porch to cool off, followed by Cas a few minutes later. Cas still remembered the drained look in his eyes as he looked at Cas.

“I feel like such a fucking dumbass, Cas. I know it’s not that hard, it shouldn’t be that hard, Sam makes it seem so easy…”

“Dean, you are learning. It’s okay if it takes you a little time. Sam has experience with ASL, doesn’t he?”

Dean had sighed and conceded this. “Yeah, he took some in college I think. I just… I never took any language, you know? Didn’t seem as important as woodshop or sex ed.” He grinned half-heartedly at his own joke.

Cas smiled back and pointed at him, signing o and k. You’re okay.

He repeated the signs, nodding. I’m okay.

I love you.

I love you too.

-----

After the pies were made and chicken noodle soup in the crock pot, Cas and Dean relinquished the kitchen to the kids and retired to the Dean cave. Sam and Eileen were cooped up in their room until they were allowed back into the living quarters by the kids. They didn’t want their creations critiqued or tasted before they were ready.

Cas waited patiently while Dean typed away on his phone, eyes narrowed to see the text. He refused to get reading glasses or enlarge the print on his phone, even though he sorely needed it. Cas kept his complaining about it to a minimum though because he liked the wrinkles around Dean’s eyes when he squinted. It reminded him that he got to grow old with Dean.

Dean looked up finally to see the fond look on his lover’s face and blushed, guilty. “Sorry, just checking with Kara.”

Cas nodded understandingly. As always. “The bar will survive without us for a few days.”

“I know.” Dean looked down, a little pleased he could admit it. “I just miss it.” Wow, to have a life he could miss, and to miss it from a peaceful holiday vacation surrounded by his family. It was… surreal.

“What do you want to watch?”

Dean sank back into the cushions, thinking. “Die Hard?”

Cas smiled at him. “Is that what you want to watch?”

Dean rolled his eyes and flipped around so he could lay his head in Cas’s lap. “No.” He admitted it grudgingly. Cas could read him like a book. It was inconvenient sometimes and other times, like now, it was nice. “Just seems like the thing to watch. Y’know, Christmas Eve.”

Cas shrugged. He put a hand in Dean’s hair, just like he liked it. Dean closed his eyes almost at his touch; he’d gotten much more comfortable letting his guard down like that lately. It had taken a while though, months of Dean staying rigid in his arms before he could relax quicker. “There are other things to watch.”

Dean reached a hand up and cupped Cas’s jaw with his hand. “Whaddyou wanna watch, sweetheart?”

Cas couldn’t help but turn his head to kiss Dean’s hand. Dean only called him sweetheart when he was feeling particularly tender, usually a few whiskeys in. This time he happened to be both. Cas loved it. “What about a double feature?”

“Hm,” Dean scrubbed his hand along Cas’s stubble and thought. Cas’s stubble was one his favorite physical things about him; sometimes Cas accused him of petting him like a cat. “What ones?”

“First… It’s a Wonderful Life.”

Dean cracked a grin and opened his eyes. “Clarence?”

Cas blushed. “I miss her sometimes.”

“Should I be worried?”

Cas tilted his head, pretending to consider it. “Considering she’s a demon? Probably.” Meg was banished to hell with the rest of the demons that had gotten out of the Empty, but given their old friendship with the Queen of Hell, that didn’t mean much for them.

“Psh, demon-shmemon. Been there, done that.” Dean pulled Cas down into a kiss, making him bend over into an awkward position that made Cas giggle. “Being a human is much sexier.”

“I agree.”

Dean waggled his eyebrows at him suggestively. “Wanna make it a triple feature? Little hanky panky for intermission?” Cas rolled his eyes, which Dean interpreted as a solid yes. “What is our second movie, anyway?”

“Huh.” Cas booped Dean on the nose. “Love Actually.”

A slow, dopey smile spread over Dean’s face. “Okay.” He paused, thinking about it. He’d pushed Cas into watching it years ago, when they were still just friends, by ‘accidentally’ adding it to his Netflix Queue and then letting Cas loose for movie night. He’d watched Cas for his reactions the whole time (and only gotten distracted by looking At Cas a few times). It had been a couple months ago when he told Cas about that. “Second favorite thing about being queer is being able to watch sappy shit like that.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “You were able to before, Dean.”

Dean ignored him. “Ask me what my favorite thing is,”

“What’s your favorite thing?”

“This.” He burrowed into Cas’s lap. A sap and a flirt.

“I thought you were gonna say Taylor Swift.” A dry witted old queen.

Dean snorted into his stomach. “That’s my third favorite.”

----

“Alright, gang, what do we say? Same place tomorrow morning, let’s say… 5?” He spun around to look at everyone, a wide smile on his face. Everyone seemed less enthused than him, although Sam seemed to think his situation was amusing.

“Dude, I’m not twelve, I’m not waking up at 5 am to open a few presents.”

“Like hell you aren’t!” Dean was smiling but it was less of a happy smile and more of a disbelieving one. Cas squeezed his arm then, stopped him from continuing his argument. Dean glanced at him and he just stared and gave him another squeeze.

Dean knew what that look meant. It meant ‘Dean, you’re overreacting again, calm down and think about it’ and also ‘stop being such an asshole’ and probably also ‘wow you’re eyes are really pretty’ knowing Cas.

He took a deep breath and pecked Cas on the lips. “Alright, princess, what time are you willing to drag your lazy ass out of bed?”

Claire smirked and sent a look at Kaia before leveling back at Dean. “Eleven.”

“Eight.”

“Ten. Final offer.”

Dean considered a moment then extended a hand. And shook. “You have yourself a deal.”

----

After they went to bed, they talked about it. These days, they always talked about it. It was one of the things Cas had brought home from his shrink appointments, and, as much as Dean hated to admit it, it worked. Helped.

Cas changed into pajamas and stretched, sending a look back at Dean. Dean rolled his eyes and started before Cas could prod him to. “Yeah, yeah, I know.”

Cas raised an eyebrow at him. “You hate the morning.”

Dean pursed his lips and shook his head, then pulled down his pants, because you should never have a conversation with your boyfriend with pants when you could have one without pants. These things he was learning. “Yeah, I do, it’s just… it’s Christmas.”

“Yes, it is. Isn’t it supposed to be a day of relaxation and fun?”

“Yeah, but it’s supposed to be exciting! Kids jumping on their parents bed at the asscrack of dawn to go to the tree, that kinda shit!” He shrugged, getting stupid worked up over it, he knew. He knew. Cas pulled him in by the hand and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Come on, tell me how I’m being an asshole.”

Cas rolled his eyes. “What part of ‘you do everything for love’ do you not understand?”

“How is me freaking out over Christmas morning ‘for love’?”

Cas didn’t flinch away from the self-deprecation. “You want them to have the Christmas you never got.”

Dean sank his head onto Cas’s shoulder, thinking about it. He was right, of course he was, he’s always right. Cas can read him like a book, even when Dean himself didn’t know what he was doing. “I guess so, yeah.”

“That’s admirable. But the Christmas they deserve, same as you did, is the one they want. Which might not be the one you wanted.”

“Yeah, yeah, you’re right.” he sighed heavily. More than he wanted his kids to have a motherfucking Christmas-card Christmas, he just didn’t want to be the ruin of it. Didn’t want to be John. “Sorry you have to shrink my head all the time.” Dean muttered softly. Cas pulled him away and kissed him, slow and soft.

“You pay me back tenfold.”

“You’ve got a shrink.”

“I meant with sex.” Cas met his eyes, face stoic as always. He would’ve gotten away with it too, if it weren’t for the glint in his eyes. It gave him away.

Dean threw back his head and laughed.

“Motherfucker.”

“I don’t have a mother.”

Dean shook his head, grin splitting open his face. Cas himself was trying to hold it together; he kept having to push down the corners of his mouth so he wouldn't break. Dean crowded closer, determined to ruin that composure. He walked his face right into Cas’s, only reaching for his lips once they were already bumping together. Then he fell into it, pulled Cas toward him to get more, settled into the easy mesh of their bodies until Cas ended up knocking his knee against the bedframe with a loud thump.

They dissolved into a pile of breathy giggles, too giddy and soft to work up the energy to get frisky. Dean just shrugged off his shirt and pulled Cas closer to him. “You know you’re the best thing to ever happen to me.” Dean told him seriously. He didn’t know where it came from; it was way too mushy to even possibly be from his mind. Maybe it was something about the holiday, and the family, and the safety that all of it brought.

“And so are you.” Cas replied simply, eyes glinting.

“Even though I’m an asshole sometimes?” He had to ruin it. Had to put in that little bit of doubt, of insecurity. But it wouldn’t be truthful if he just swallowed it, so he let it be said.

Cas kissed his nose, which made Dean feel like a child but also like something so special and precious he didn’t complain. “Even though you’re an asshole sometimes.”

Dean snorted out a laugh and chased Cas’s lips, nipping at him in offense. He sank onto the pillow and stared at Cas where he sat up. Cas just looked down at him, adopting that alien-like quality he could still summon. “Marry me.”

“What?”

Dean smiled fondly at him, for once not at all concerned. “I dunno, dunnit ‘boyfriends’ sound way too young to you? I mean you’re practically 5 million years old, you can’t have a boyfriend.”

Cas pursed his lips, seemingly deciding between protesting his age or agreeing to his proposal. He laid next to Dean during his decision, letting Dean watch him consider. “Suppose you’re right.” He shrugged, offering up a tiny grin.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Dean.”

“No, you’re supposed to say ‘Yes, yes, a thousand times yes’ and then burst into tears.”

“Dean.”

“Hey, I don’t make the rules, that’s just how humans do it!”

“Okay, I take it back.”

Dean laughed and pulled him into a giddy kiss. “I love you.”

“I hope so, you’re marrying me.” Cas couldn’t contain his smile anymore; he stopped trying and just stared at Dean with the kind of wonder that used to make Dean feel uncomfortable. Now, it just made him feel lucky. “I love you too.”

---

A phone rang, a bizarre ringtone Dean didn’t recognize. Sam jumped up and ran off to the map room, apologizing quickly. “What the hell, man!” Dean yelled after him and sent a look at Eileen.

Hunter call, probably. She signed. Sure enough, Sam was in the other room picking up a landline with an annoyed tone.

He listened for a few minutes, asking follow-up questions before Dean heard him say, “Rugaru, yeah, that’s what it sounds like. Yeah, you gotta burn ‘em. Nasty, sorry. Yeah, no problem. Good luck.” He hung up and headed back into the room, signing and talking. “Sorry, hunting doesn’t care about holidays.”

“So glad we’re not doing that anymore.” Dean sighed happily, wrapping an arm around Cas. Sam smiled at him and nodded.

“Me too. I had to burn those clothes after the Rugaru thing.” He shuddered, the memory of the stench enough to make him happy for an empty stomach.

Eileen shrugged. Never had to deal with one of those.

“Lucky.” Dean promised her. Cas nudged him, nodding toward Jack. He was shaking a wrapped box with his name on it, a look of deep concentration on his face.

“Whaddya think it is, kid?”

Jack shook his head. “No idea. Can I open it?”

“Go for it.”Jack tore into it, no regard for the painted newspaper (yes, it was recycled, Cas and Sam both agreed) as he got to the box underneath. “Open the card first, heathen!” Dean joked, pointing out the card tucked onto the bottom of the thing. Jack scowled but complied, opening the card to find a nice note from him and Cas and a key taped in.

“What’s it for?”

Dean leaned forward, elbows on his knees, excited about this part. He had been the one who came up with it, after all. “Our place. We wanted to make it official, since you been, you know, visiting around a lot lately.” Dean turned a little pink in the cheeks. Jack had indeed been drifting between Sam and Eileen’s, Jody’s, his and Cas’s, Donna’s, and Claire and Kaia’s. But he always spent the most time at his and Cas’s house, trying to copy Dean and always ending up enjoying Cas’s hobbies more. Sam had told him a while back that Jack confided he wasn’t sure he was welcome there, not for the long term. So Dean wanted to let him know he was welcome. Except now, looking at the uncertainty on Jack’s face, he wasn’t so sure that’s what the kid wanted. “Uh, you know, you can just spend however much you want with us, but… you know.” He poked Cas desperately in the side, trying to get him to save the sentence.

“We’d like you to have a ‘home base’ with us, Jack. However often you are willing to stay.” Cas said simply. He squeezed Dean’s knee to reassure him.

Jack looked up at them with a stunned expression. “Does this mean I can take out the trash? And do the dishes?” He looked thrilled at the idea.

Dean chuckled. “We never would’ve stopped you before, kid. But yeah, sure.”

Sam cleared his throat, offering a smile to Jack. “That better not mean you stop coming around here though, Jack.” When Dean had called and told him his idea for the present, he’d almost teared up. His brother had come a long way with Jack. Still, he wanted to reassure his kid that he always had a home with him and Eileen too, no matter how busy he was. (And nowadays, between online classes, cataloguing lore onto an online database, and being the New Bobby, he was really busy.)

Jack jumped up, clearly about to go for a round of hugs, but Dean waved him off. “Keep going, you haven’t even gotten through one present yet.”

Jack grinned and complied, taking a bit more time with the box. He pulled out a Scooby Doo phone case, marked for Extra Protection, with Scooby and Shaggy on the back.

“That one was my idea.” Cas told him proudly.

“I helped.” Dean piped up.

“You did not.”

“I helped you pick which case!”

“You wanted to get one with Fred and Daphne.”

“Well, yeah-”

“Not everyone has a crush on them like you do, Dean.”

Dean flushed scarlet and went silent, pouting. Jack ignored their bickering and beamed up at Castiel. “I love it, dad. Thank you.”

Cas looked like he could’ve gone for round 4 with the Empty with how happy he was, but he just nodded. “Of course.”

The rest of the gifts went by with lots of shouting, laughing, smiling, and hugging. And a few tears all around. Dean got Claire a flamethrower without consulting anyone, and Cas got Kaia a rose and lavender scented pillow fragrance (“It helps ensure good dreams.”), which prompted a comment from Claire (“How’d he know you’re a pillow princess?”) that everyone pretended not to hear. Dean got Eileen a Woojer, a wearable speaker that lets you feel music’s vibrations in your body (“Because no one should have to live without Zepp available to them 24/7. Also, now you can cry with me when the sad music cues come on Dr. Sexy,” - one of their favorite activities together).

Dean jerked a head at Sam to get him out of the room, so Sam snatched his gift while Dean detached himself from Cas. They went to the kitchen, sending a couple soft looks back at their family gathered around the tree with all their new possessions. It was nice, and they both felt it.

“So, uh, Sammy, I been thinking a lot about what to get you for Christmas and everything. I didn’t want to go with the classic-”

“Skin mag and candy bar?”

“Yeah.”

“Well, damn, now I feel bad.” Sam mimed hiding his present (obviously bigger than a skin mag) behind his back, and Dean rolled his eyes.

“I finally got money, you know? Not a lot of it, but… I got a house and fucking, Cas, and… anyway. We’re finally doing Christmas and I wanted to do it right. And I want you to be as off-the-wall happy as I am, dude.”

Sam smiled widely, not even able to come up with a little-brother bitchy comment to that. “Thanks, Dean, that means a lot.”

Dean cleared his throat and nodded. “Yeah, so, I, um, I wanna pay for your school.” Sam opened his mouth to protest but Dean held up a hand. “No, listen, I know you’ve been stressed about it, and I know you’ve been working really hard on the hunting catalogue stuff. That shit’s important. And I can pay for some crappy internet school classes. No offense.”

Sam laughed and pulled his brother into a hug. “Thank you, man.” He said, muffled into Dean’s shoulder. “You have no idea how much that means to me.”

Dean patted Sam on the back, expecting Sam to pull away, but he didn’t. “Uh, Sammy.” Sam ignored him. “Sam. Dude, get off me. I want my present.”

Sam snorted and finally pulled away. Dean tactfully ignored the wetness of his eyes in favor of snatching the gift from Sam’s hands. He tore it open with all the grace of a rabid dog, unveiling a thick, leather bound scrapbook. “A scrapbook? Really?” Dean raised his eyebrows. “That’s gay, even for you.”

Sam pulled a bitchface. “Who sucks their boyfriend’s dick every chance he gets?”

Dean flipped him off. No need to argue, Sam would see right through him. It was true though. Not that he would know. Dean flipped open the cover and grinned immediately. It was Sam and Dean as kids, in a mall photo booth, being dumbasses with their tongues stuck out and their faces all crazy. Dean mooned the camera in one, and you could see the psychological scarring on Sam’s face in the next picture. A little note slapped on the page next to it said “I have more nightmares about this than about hell”. Dean laughed, glancing up at Sam before he continued. Sam’s eyes were hopeful with a glint of mischief. That was never good.

Dean flipped through the next pages. It showed them through the years, all with little notes of Sam’s internal monologue. “Grumpy because he hasn’t gotten his coffee this morning” “That’s for the itching powder incident, asshole” and more and more. There were even some pictures in there of just him that Sam had obviously taken without Dean’s knowledge, pictures of him sleeping with comments about his snoring, pictures of him singing obnoxiously in the car with jokes about ear damage. Pictures of him and Bobby shooting the shit with notes about the pair of “old men.”

Then the pictures started to change. There started to be pictures of him and Cas. Mostly just him and Cas. Standing, talking, watching TV together (this one says “angel’s first porno!” with a bunch of hearts next to it). Comments talking about personal space (“he never stands that close to ME”) and the like. One of Dean in Bobby’s panic room where Dean has a speech bubble drawn on his serious face that says “Cas, not for nothing, but the last person who looked at me like that, I got laid” and then just a selfie of Sam pulling his bitchiest bitch face.

Dean turned a little red at that, recognizing his complete obliviousness at the time, and kept going. The pictures continue, lots of fun-loving pictures of them on the road and the occasional movie or bar night, Charlie and Kevin and even Crowley and Rowena. But without fail, there is picture after picture of him and Cas sharing a publicly private moment, all with little snippy comments from his little brother. More than three of those comments are “Just kiss already!!!” Dean finally looks up to see Sam crossing his arms and staring at him with a smug, self-satisfied smile.

“When the hell did you make this?” Dean sputtered. These are a lot of pictures, Sam must’ve kept them on his crappy cell phones for years.

Sam blinked. “I started it in 2006.”

“No, I mean, when did you go back and add all these bitchy little comments?”

Sam raised an eyebrow. “2006.”

Dean blinked right back. “But you… you’ve got all these dumbass comments about me and Cas.”

His smartass little brother started to smile then, a big shit-eating grin he wanted to smack off his dumb face. “Yeah, man, you weren’t exactly smooth about it.”

“Hey, fuck you, what does that mean?” It was said in jest, but Dean’s volume control went out the window.

“Dean? Sam? Everything okay?” Cas’s voice reached them from the other room. Dean sent an offended glance back at Sam before answering.

“Yeah babe, I’m just finding out how much I wanna punch my brother in here,”

“Okay, well, leave it till tomorrow, it’s Christmas.”

“Nah, isn’t fighting with your family a holiday tradition?”

“I think you’re right. Okay, continue.”

Now Sam was just watching him with such a knowing expression it made him annoyed. He was watching him flirt with his boyfriend- no, technically, husband. Oh yeah. He lowered his voice back down to a reasonable volume to talk to just his brother again.

“Yeah, so, I should also tell you-” He closed the book and set it on the counter. “We uh… Cas and I, we’re gonna get married.” He looked down at his feet and blushed a bit, could feel the rising heat in his cheeks. Honestly, he couldn’t believe he was saying that. He was getting married. To Cas. “Obviously, you know, we can’t really, with one of us being a legally dead terrorist and the other a former angel in the body of a missing family man,” Dean and Sam both laughed at that. “But I asked him and he said yes.”

“You asked him?” Sam seemed more surprised by that than the actual news. Dean shrugged and nodded. “Wow. Congrats, Dean, really.” Sam pulled him in for another hug, which Dean happily returned. “Can I walk you down the aisle?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “If anyone’s getting walked down the aisle, it’s Cas. He might get distracted by a butterfly halfway down, he’ll need the guide.”

Sam grinned. “Come on, it’s not like you weren’t always gonna give me away.”

Dean frowned at him. “Me? Why?”

“Dean, you’re the closest thing to a parent I ever had.” Sam says it like it’s obvious, like he isn’t forgetting about-

“You had Dad.”

Sam raised his eyebrows and laid a hand on Dean’s shoulder, making his big brother look him in the eyes as he repeated it. “You’re the closest thing to a parent I ever had.”

Dean wasn’t gonna get choked up. No, he wasn’t, damn it. He’d made it this far in the visit without getting choked up, he could-

“Sam?”

Eileen appeared around the corner, making them both realize how long they’d been away from the rest. Sam looked at her apologetically, signing Sorry. Dean was just telling me he and Cas are getting married!

Eileen turned to Dean, barely giving Dean time to process a quick congratulations sign before she enveloped him in a hug. Dean laughed and hugged her back, pulling away to sign thank you. At least he knew how to do that.

Big church wedding? Eileen teased.

“Only if Cas wears a poofy dress,” Dean joked back. He only knew the signs for Cas and dress, but between that and lip-reading, Eileen got it. She shook her head with a grin and grabbed Sam’s hand. They all went back into the living room and to the rest for another round of hot chocolate and a marathon of all the Home Alone movies, per request.

------

Dean snuggled into Cas’s side and ruffled a hand through Jack’s hair and he tried to think of something more perfect than having his family all together for Christmas. He couldn’t.

#destiel secret santa #secret santa 2020 #fanfic #destiel #deancas #christmas fluff #theangelwiththewormstache #my writing #destiel secret santa 2020 #fluff #dean winchester #castiel #sam winchester #eileen leahy #jack kline #kaia rieves #claire novak

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violetwolfraven · 4 years ago

Text

Peace and Joy

@spot-king-of-brooklyn I’m your secret Santa! @newsies-secretsanta

You said your favorite ships are sprace and/or javid and you’re good with pretty much anything so I’m gonna write two separate vaguely holiday-related oneshots in the reincarnation AU. Don’t worry though nothing heavy, just fluff. No COVID because I’ve had enough of that dude and I say so. Enjoy! Happy Holidays!

Tw: referenced past period-typical homophobia.

...

Spot couldn’t remember being this happy... ever. Not in the early 1900s or in the early 2000s.

Well, the closest he could think of was 1902, when he and Race moved on from being newsies and from being leaders of their respective boroughs and rented that old apartment in Brooklyn together. But that had been muted by the need to be careful. They couldn’t be normal young people in love because they always had to hide.

And that was fine at the time because it was expected. It was them doing whatever it took to be together not knowing they’d ever get the chance to do it another way.

Now, in the bright, beautiful, forward-thinking 21st century, they could be safe. They could be in love without fear of the consequences. They could go out Christmas shopping together, and Spot didn’t know if that counted as a date, but it kind of felt like one as he watched his boyfriend bop a little to Mariah Carey’s All I Want For Christmas Is You as he looked around.

He ended up having to look away before he started blushing too hard. Even if he wasn’t the King of Brooklyn this time, he still had a bit of a reputation as a stone cold badass. For all he knew, one or more of their more mischievous friends could be spying on them right now. And besides, this thrift store probably had stuff he could get the few Brooklyn kids who’d come back, too.

He was still deciding if Hotshot would think it was funny if he got him a tank top that said ‘hot stuff’ on it. The others would find it funny, but Spot honestly wasn’t sure if it would make his former second uncomfortable.

“Hey, Spottie, ya think my little brother would like this?”

Spot turned back to see Race holding up a bright purple worm on a string, but a giant version of one. One that was big enough to be a scarf.

“Knowin’ your family,” he admitted, “I think any of ‘em would be happy to get one of those.”

It was true. Honestly, the most sensible Larkin brother was the second-oldest, Crutchie, but Spot could still see him proudly wearing a worm-on-a-string-scarf to school after winter break ended.

Besides him, Medda, Race’s mom, tended to embrace whatever unique fashion choice she could find. And Jack, of course, didn’t let being the oldest of four stop him from being a theatrical little shit who liked drawing attention to himself.

And Romeo was somehow even more eccentric than Race, so he would definitely like that thing.

Race grinned, “I’m gonna get Ro a worm scarf for Christmas.”

“Your family is ridiculous.”

“Thank you. So, what’re ya gettin’ for Denton?”

Oh, shit. Spot had completely forgotten about getting anything for Denton.

He really should get something for him. After all, the teacher hadn’t even known Spot when Jack asked if he could stay with him. All he’d needed to know was that Spot needed a place to hide from his terrible parents and couldn’t stay with the Larkins, mostly because Medda had a strict rule about her boys’ partners sleeping over unless it was absolutely necessary. (it was also because Spot couldn’t think of anyone he’d want to live with less than Jack Kelly, but Denton didn’t really need to know that, did he?)

So far, Spot’s parents hadn’t shown any signs of missing him, and Spot couldn’t decide if that hurt or not, but it barely mattered anymore.

Because Denton didn’t really have any rules beyond ‘do your homework’, ‘take a shower occassionally’, and ‘if you leave the house, let me know where you’re going.’ He helped Spot pick out a Halloween costume, let him spend Thanksgiving with Race, and gave him money for Christmas shopping. He was fine with Spot being gay and having a boyfriend, even if there was an added rule with that of ‘you can’t have the door closed if you’re alone in your room with Race.’

He gave Spot space, but also made it clear that he could come to him for anything he needed help with. He never hit him, never pushed when Spot wanted to be alone, never even raised his voice unless they were in an already-loud room and he needed to get his attention.

In short, in only a few months, he’d become the best adult Spot had ever had in his life. He wasn’t his father, but he was closest thing Spot had ever gotten to a dad.

The Denton they’d known in their last life had been kind of like that, too. He’d helped as best he could whenever one of the newsies got into trouble, always being there for anyone who needed him since Kath first introduced her new reporter friend to her newsie friends. Of course, Spot hadn’t been living with Denton then, so he’d never really thought about it.

“What do you even get a middle-aged man for Christmas?”

Race shrugged, “Power tools?”

The idea of getting Denton power tools was so ridiculous that they both laughed.

“Uh... he’s a writer,” Race pointed out, “So... fancy pens?”

“Fancy pens? We’re at a thrift store, Racer.”

“Well we don’t gotta stay here forever. There’s a Barnes and Noble across the street.”

He wasn’t wrong about that, but Spot wasn’t sure about the whole ‘fancy pen’ thing. It seemed a little generic.

“Yooooo! Spot, check this out for Jack!”

He was holding up a bright blue sketchbook that said ‘Sketchy Bitch’ on the cover.

“Oh yeah, ya definitely have to get that for Cowboy.”

Spotting (no pun intended) something else on the shelf behind him, Spot grinned.

He had the perfect thing to get for the man who’d taken him in.

...

“This is gonna be so fuckin’ awesome.”

Davey snorted, “You’re way too excited ‘bout this, Jackie.”

He loved his boyfriend, but he had a tendency to get overenthusiastic about things.

Well, he loved that about Jack, too. And he loved being able to call him his boyfriend, now. That they didn’t need to hide this time.

He and Sarah had both been a little worried about their parents’ reaction, but it had turned out to be for nothing. They’d each gotten a t-shirt with their respective pride flag for the first night of Hanukkah, and Jack and Kath were always welcome to come over as long as at least one parent was home.

Davey loved Jack just as much in this lifetime as he had in his first, but it was different, not having to hide it. It was good different, but definitely different. Being able to be who they were and be in love and knowing that it was generally frowned upon to be homophobic now, at least where they lived.

And being able to do random shit that was romantic and fun as hell, but not something would even occur to most people to do.

After a sleepy conversation once Crutchie, Race, and Romeo had fallen asleep watching White Christmas (which Davey appreciated for the choreography in the dance numbers) one time about how there weren’t really any Hanukkah movies, Jack had collaborated with Kath to write a lesbian Hanukkah musical romcom to post to YouTube.

Objectively, it wasn’t that great. It was good for a movie made by a bunch of high school juniors, but they couldn’t afford good cameras or microphones or anything. Plus, it was appealing to a very niche audience, so Davey doubted this movie would get more than twenty views.

Still, it meant a lot that Jack was so excited about it, that he was working so hard on props and editing in the lighting and music for it so Kath and Saz could play Jewish lesbians fake-dating at a holiday party who fall in love. It was cute.

“It ain’t gonna win any awards,” Jack admitted, “But I think we’s got somethin’ good here!”

“We do,” Davey agreed.

Was he actually talking about the romcom starring his sister and her girlfriend? Partially. It was a pretty good movie for something produced by teenagers.

But they had something good there that wasn’t on the screen of Jack’s laptop, too.

Jack seemed to share those thoughts, with the way he was smiling.

“What’s with the look, mi amor?”

Davey rolled his eyes as the other boy put his arm around his waist.

“Like you don’t know, love,” he chuckled, “Remember the last time we did somethin’ like this? And by ‘we’ I mean ‘you.’”

“Shh,” Jack shook his head, “Nope. We don’t talk about the latkes incident.”

“You mean when you almost burned down our tiny little kitchen trying to—“

“We don’t talk about it!”

Davey laughed. It was funny, how Jack couldn’t, in any lifetime, cook anything more complicated than like... chili or stew. While he could make something edible, he couldn’t make anything that was really considered good.

“Davey, love, luz de mi vida, it was literally over a hundred years ago, so stop. Bringin’. Up. The. Latkes. Incident!”

He punctuated the sentence by hitting Davey with one of his mom’s throw pillows.

“Okay, Jackie, I get it! Stop hitting me!”

“Fine,” Jack grinned, “I ain’t almost burned down a kitchen in over a century, babe. I thinks that’s a good record to have.”

“Most people never almost burn down a kitchen,” Davey pointed out, “I know I—wait, did you just call me ‘babe’?”

Jack was definitely not meeting his eyes to try to hide how he was blushing, “Uh... is that okay?”

Davey smirked. Jack didn’t get flustered that often, but it was adorable when he did.

And even if he had almost burned down their apartment, it had been cute back then, how he’d tried so hard to try to do something nice for Davey for the holiday season. It was cute now, too.

That was one thing that hadn’t changed through the decades, he guessed.

“It’s definitely okay, babe.”

...

“Spot, is this a... ‘Best Dad In The World’ mug?”

“...if you cry, I’m outta here.”

#newsies #newsies secret santa #btw i’m sorry i wrote in a nod to wormsies #i couldn’t help it #sprace #javid #javey #spot conlon #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #davey jacobs #reincarnation au #fluff #violet’s writing

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littlespoonevan · 5 years ago

Text

i feel like i should’ve expected this after all the times i’ve written “i’d kill to read 20k about this” in the tags of every single post about ian and mickey at the loft party lmao hopefully this lives up to the glory of 4x08

i hope you like it, friend!!!

Mickey’s eyes scan the crowded room and discomfort sits heavily in the pit of his stomach. He doesn’t know what the fuck he’s doing here; surrounded by all these rich douchebags who are laughing and flirting and kissing like it’s no big deal. Like it’s not a fucking life or death situation.

A hand lands on his shoulder and Mickey jumps, whipping around until he realises it’s just Ian, smiling brightly and holding up the beer he’d promised to get Mickey a few minutes ago. Mickey lets out a breath, relaxing the tense set of his shoulders and taking the bottle out of Ian’s hand.

“Didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” Ian says, hand sliding across one of Mickey’s shoulders and onto the other until his arm is draped around Mickey’s neck.

Mickey feels himself tense again, gaze flashing to all four corners of the room like there’s someone waiting in the wings trying to catch them out. But all he sees is a bunch of other guys, paying absolutely no attention to them. Just like in the club. Fuck.

“Mick, it’s okay,” Ian says lowly, leaning in close so no one else could possibly overhear and making Mickey’s heartrate pick up.

“You know this is probably the safest possible place we could be, right?” Ian continues, reading Mickey’s mind with that uncanny accuracy he’s always had. “We’re surrounded by gay guys, in a loft on the North Side. If Terry even thought a place like this existed he’d burst into flames.”

Mickey huffs out a reluctant laugh at that, taking a pull of his beer to distract himself from the way Ian squeezes his shoulder. He looks up at Ian then and feels some of the tension leak out of him when he meets Ian’s smile.

“That doesn’t mean I’m havin’ fun,” he says eventually, unsure how to be anything other than difficult. He’s not used to wanting Ian to put him in these types of situations.

Ian smirks like he doesn’t believe him but still sounds sincere when he says, “We can leave if you want.”

And it’s bizarre but Mickey doesn’t think he wants to go.

He wants to be alone with Ian but where’s he gonna get that? At Ian’s place stuffed to the brim with Gallaghers in the room he shares with two of his brothers? At his own house with his brothers and Mandy and fucking Svetlana looming over their shoulders threatening Ian? But here…Ian’s right. There’s a relative safety here – doesn’t mean Mickey’s comfortable enough to kiss Ian again like he did at the club but he can stand here with Ian’s arm around him and not feel like he’s going to have a panic attack at the assumptions other people are making.

So maybe here is the best place they can be right now.

“Nah, man,” he says finally, shrugging like he doesn’t care. “It’s fine. We can stay.”

Ian smiles at him like he knows exactly what Mickey is thinking and his hand presses, just for a second, against Mickey’s chest.

“You want me to introduce you to some of my friends or d’you wanna sit in a corner and get drunk and talk shit about people?”

Mickey turns slightly, angling himself more towards Ian, and raises any eyebrow. “The fuck kinda question is that?”

Ian’s smile turns into a grin and his hand drops from Mickey’s shoulder to the small of his back. “C’mon,” he says, nodding behind him. “There’s a spot over there with a good view of the front door; you can make fun of people’s clothes as they come in.”

Mickey barks out a laugh at that, allowing Ian to lead him to a more secluded part of the living room as he feels some of his discomfort begin to ebb away.

Maybe this place isn’t so bad.

Mickey is out on the balcony having a cigarette later; there are a couple of other people out here smoking too but the balcony’s so fucking big there’s at least six feet of space between him and the little group clustered together at the other end by the door.

He’s not all that surprised that Ian follows him out after a few minutes.

Mickey’d been enjoying sitting in their own little bubble in the corner inside, drinking and talking shit, but then some clown from the club had come over and waylaid Ian and Mickey had started to get that antsy, uncomfortable feeling again. So he’d ducked outside to escape.

Ian doesn’t say anything as he approaches, just strides over and plucks the cigarette out of Mickey’s hand before bracing his arms on the wall in front of them to look out at the view.

Mickey watches him take a drag, acutely aware of where they’re pressed together hip to knee. But Ian’s body is blocking him from view of the people at the other end of the balcony so he very pointedly doesn’t shift away.

“Think it’s starting to wind down inside now,” Ian says, blowing out smoke on a breath before offering the cigarette back to Mickey.

And just like before, Mickey feels that strange sense of disappointment at knowing this is almost over. He doesn’t like this place or these people but…he likes being here. With Ian.

“We should start heading back,” he says, sniffing and keeping his gaze on the skyline instead of Ian.

Ian doesn’t reply right away and Mickey jerks his gaze down when he feels Ian’s pinky finger carefully and deliberately reaching out to hook around Mickey’s. “Brian said we could stay if you want?” he says then, voice oddly breathless as he casts Mickey a sidelong glance. “Bedrooms are taken but the couch pulls out.”

And there it is. An offer. A chance. To keep the unreality of this night going just a little bit longer.

Mickey chews the inside of his lip and stubs out the cigarette, turning his body just slightly so he’s facing Ian.

Ian watches him, searching his expression for something – Mickey’s not sure what.

“What d’you think?” Ian whispers and Mickey feels his resolve crumble.

He clears his throat and ducks his head, muttering the words to his shoes instead of Ian. “Don’t feel like getting the L home anyway.”

And even without looking, he can feel it when Ian smiles, sees it when Ian’s feet shuffle forward an inch or two and he knows exactly what’s about to happen when he feels Ian’s palm fit to his cheek.

He looks up and he can’t help the nervous knot in his chest but he tells himself no one inside can see them and the number of people still outside has dwindled to two other guys that look a hell of a lot more interested in each other than whatever the fuck he and Ian are doing.

So he lets Ian draw him in, parts his lips without thinking about it when Ian’s face inches closer and allows himself to be kissed.

It’s not like the kiss in the club. It’s soft and chaste and undemanding but it still makes Mickey’s toes curl in his shoes, still makes him grip Ian’s bicep tightly. He can feel Ian’s breath on his face when they pull away and he almost goes cross-eyed trying to look at Ian’s smile but it’s worth it for the tiny kiss Ian presses to the corner of his mouth before he pulls away for real.

“I’ll tell Brian we’re taking the couch before anyone else tries to snag it,” Ian tells him, taking Mickey’s hand and squeezing it once before he steps back. “I’ll come find you in a few minutes.”

Mickey nods dazedly and watches him go.

And he feels like the biggest fucking girl on the planet when he reaches up to touch the spot at the corner of his lips where Ian just kissed. But well, he’s doing a lot of shit tonight he’s never done before.

The loft is quiet.

Mickey’d counted seven other people disappearing into bedrooms as Brian had demonstrated how to turn the couch into a bed. Now, Mickey’s lying on the softest sheets he’s ever felt, on a pull-out couch that’s more comfortable than any bed he’s ever slept on and the room is dark and Ian is lying so close.

He doesn’t- he wants to do more. Of course he fucking does. God, he wants to feel Ian and he wants to actually fucking take advantage of the fact that they get to share a bed for once in a place of relative security. But Mickey feels…nervous. And overwhelmed – as the full weight of everything that’s happened tonight finally settles beneath his skin.

He wants this but he knows the thought of anyone walking in on them – even if no one would fucking care – feels too much like something that would send him into an hour long panic attack. And it’s stupid and irrational because they’d fucked in the employee break room back at the club, too frenzied and worked up from kissing out in the open for either of them to think to slow down or stop.

But now- now everything’s catching up with him and it’s too much for his brain to fucking process.

Ian seems to understand without him having to say anything; in that weird sixth sense way he always seems to understand what Mickey’s thinking without him saying it out loud.

He inches closer until their knees knock under the blanket and Mickey feels his heart jump at the contact. “You gonna let me kiss you goodnight?” Ian whispers, one hand under his head and the other tucked safely against his chest like he doesn’t wanna spook Mickey.

And maybe everything is too much for Mickey to handle right now but he thinks he can handle this.

So he lets himself reach out until his hand is curling around Ian’s ear and into his hair and he shifts closer. “C’mere.”

He can see Ian’s grin even in the darkness and feels it a second later when Ian crushes their mouths together. It sets Mickey’s pulse jack-rabbiting and it’s all he can do to cling to Ian and let himself get lost in the feeling of their mouths dragging against each other.

Ian kisses him until their lips are numb, until they’re both breathless, until Mickey’s heart is beating so fucking hard he’s sure he’s about to have a heart attack.

But eventually the intensity begins to dissolve until they’re just pressing their lips together over and over, like punctuation marks for sentences neither of them knows how to say out loud.

Then they’re lying on their sides again staring at each other and Mickey can tell that Ian wants to burrow against him, knows it bone-deep from all the times Ian tried to linger after sex, from all the casual touches and affection Ian’s tried to give him in the past. And Mickey thinks he might actually want that too but he can’t right now. Not when he’s barely holding it together as it is.

He wants to do something though.

To show Ian things will be different now. That it won’t go back to being like before.

So with the last shred of bravery he possesses, he reaches across the empty space between them and curls his hand around Ian’s arm. He holds his breath waiting for a reaction but Ian doesn’t offer him anything other than a soft smile.

“Night, Mick,” he murmurs and Mickey swallows down his nerves, squeezing Ian’s bicep lightly.

“Night, Gallagher,” he whispers. And for the first time in what feels like months, sleep comes easy.

#gallavich #ian x mickey #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless #my fics

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cotncandyboifics · 4 years ago

Text

1989 [High School AU]: Chapter 9

AO3 Link

Masterpost

Chapter 1 ~ Chapter 2 ~ Chapter 3 ~ Chapter 4 ~ Chapter 5 ~ Chapter 6 ~ Chapter 7 ~ Chapter 8 ~

Pairings: slight Logince, eventual Prinxiety & Logicality

Word count: 2,043

Story summary: Roman Prince is your stereotypical Jock, with everyone swooning after him. Every day a crowd of people follow him around, only to disperse at his personal whim. In reality, he's lucky to have such good acting skills that help him cover up the disdain he has for his life. He only wishes he could use his skills properly.

Patton Whitelock's always there to lend a helping hand, no matter who you are. If you need a favor or just need someone to talk to, go to him. In reality, he's been taught from a young age that kindness should be held above all else. No one suspects that he took it the wrong way.

Logan Montgomery is the smartest boy in the Senior class. He's stern, and most people are too intimidated to speak to him. In reality, he despises most all of his fellow students. He sticks to his studies and doesn't stray, for fear of being stuck in his father's shadow his whole life.

Virgil Black is the most emo kid in school, let alone 12th grade; everyone knows to leave him be. In reality, he's very fortunate. He has two parents who love him dearly. But everything beyond his life, everything within his mind, is utter chaos and turmoil.

what will happen when they're assigned a biology project together?

General CW: food, swearing, implied s-lf h-rm, non-graphic descriptions of s-lf h-rm scars, graphic and non-graphic descriptions of anxiety attacks and panic attacks, drug abuse, minor character intoxicated on heroin, non-graphic drug overdose description, sickness/description of sickness, blood, non-graphic descriptions of needles, (will be added to as I write more)

Chapter CW: swearing, food/meal mention, (let me know if i missed anything please!)

Author notes: the massive amounts of gay panic. this chapter was fun to write

...

Roman returned to find his room far less lively. The tall nerd and the short puffball have seemingly disappeared! Of course Roman knew they'd likely just gone home, but what fun is life without a little exciting drama?

The only one left was Virgil, who was curled in on himself on Roman's bed, a pillow in his lap and phone in his hands yet again. Roman sighed dramatically, sprawling out beside his darkly dressed counterpart.

"Is this what they meant when they said 'get a room?'" He commented after a long boring silence, waggling his eyebrows when Virgil looked at him with wide eyes.

"Oh shut up," Virgil looked away, slamming his pillow into Roman's face in a fit of deja-vu.

"Oh come on! Look up the word joke in the dictionary, Jack Smellington!" Roman said exasperatedly. Virgil shook out his luminescent hair, which was now out of his hood and proudly on display. Roman couldn't convince himself to look away.

"As much as I appreciate being compared to one of my favorite Disney characters, that was a bit- what?" Virgil looked at him confusedly, and that's what finally got Roman to look away.

"Nothing." He said shortly. He considered apologizing, but he figured that would make him look worse. Virgil just laughed lightly, not awkwardly. Mostly to himself about Roman's dorkiness. Roman felt his face heat up, and hated himself for it.

"Well, I should probably get home..." Virgil flopped back onto Roman's bed, stretching his arms out above his head. his shirt lifted slightly to follow, and Roman caught a glimpse of his navel, as well as some impressively sharp hip bones, and the very gentle start of a V-line. He forced himself to look away that time. Getting caught looking at someone's hair is one thing, but... but that, was something else entirely. Roman was already in dangerous waters, and he knew it.

"Ehem, well, I know you denied me last time," Roman began, flopping down beside Virgil and looking up at his pride flag, "but the offer of a ride is still up for grabs. Unless you'd rather be stuck on the bus at night for half an hour." Roman crossed his arms over his chest, and Virgil sat up to lean over him. He nearly opted to retort and deny the offer more snarkily than last time's failed attempt, but...

Roman's eyes. He'd never been close enough and calm enough simultaneously to really look at them; they were a deep melted milk chocolate brown, and held nearly imperceptible flecks of shining red. Virgil's eyebrows knit together, and he leaned closer to look into Roman's eyes more properly.

He didn't realize what he'd done until he'd started to reach down, almost putting his hand on Roman's cheek, and Roman made a small squealing noise to go with his completely tomatoed face. Virgil gasped slightly louder than he'd meant to and immediately recoiled.

"Shit, sorry, I just..." he considered shutting his ridiculous mouth and trying to move on, but he figured he couldn't leave that one without some kind of excuse. "I just haven't really looked at your eyes before. Not like, really, I mean. They're... nice. I like the little red bits." His voice grew much quieter as he spoke. He was facing away from Roman, and thank god, because if Roman could see his face he'd see peach-colored cheeks and a childish smile. And how very uncharacteristic of Virgil that would be.

"Thanks," Roman finally managed to huff. He stood slowly, trying to gather himself, and walked over to his desk, grabbing his car keys. He jangled them in his fingers, raising his eyebrows and silently asking Virgil if he'd take him up on the ride offer. Virgil, who had barely managed to discipline his face before Roman turned to him, just smiled very slightly and nodded.

Virgil grabbed his backpack, and Roman led the way from his room and out the front door to his ridiculous shiny-red mustang, which happened to have white racer stripes. Virgil thought this was pretty funny, but kept a sarcastic tease to himself for once in his life.

Virgil texted Roman his address from the passenger seat. While the bus ride to Virgil's house from Roman's was about 20-30 minutes, the car ride was less than 10. Roman considered putting on some music, but decided against it, considering what happened the last time they were alone with just music and each other. What the heckity heck is happening here? When I imagine... love... this is what comes to mind. He cringed at himself, surprised and disgusted that he was admitting that. This doesn't feel the same as it does with Logan though... so then, maybe I truly love Logan, and Virgil just inexplicably makes my heart flutter? Of course, the only other possibility is so much worse-

Roman's thoughts were interrupted by Virgil shouting "RED LIGHT!!!" very suddenly, and Roman slammed the breaks.

"Jesus Princey, are you trying to kill me!? Is that why you were so hell-bent on driving me home??" Virgil's voice was mostly panic, but laced with some half-hearted sarcasm. He clearly had more panic and less sarcasm in it than he'd meant to. He was holding onto his seat and the door beside him for dear life, looking at Roman with wide eyes, his chest heaving comically. Roman was too dazed to laugh.

"Shit, I'm sorry," He looked up at the street light, which was in fact red. "I got lost in thought for a minute. I won't let it happen again while I'm responsible for you. My deepest apologies." Roman would have normally faux bowed and reached out for Virgil's hand to kiss his knuckles, but unfortunately Virgil was making him feel... well, bitterly jittery and not very glittery. Or maybe, too glittery. He didn't know anymore; all he knew is he had to leave his thoughts for when he got Virgil and then himself home safe.

"Lost in thought?" Virgil let that little comment slip sooner than he could corral himself, and almost brought his hand to cover his mouth, but far too late. Roman just looked at him anxiously, sighing.

"Yeah. I guess so." Roman wasn't normally this dismissive, and Virgil knew far better at this point than to press.

Before they were even on Virgil's street, he broke their awkward silence with an extremely unexpected "thanks for driving me home, Ro. You didn't have to, and I really appreciate it."

Roman was shaken to the core, partially by Virgil's sincerity and partially by the nickname. "Oh, uh, well, no need to thank me now. I nearly killed you once, and you aren't safe and sound at your destination just yet." He smiled softly over at the taller emo. Virgil just returned the smile.

A few moments later came a quiet "really though." Virgil's capacity for sincerity wasn't very extensive, and if anyone knew that it was Roman. He felt a blush creeping up his neck, and couldn't think of a good response.

Finally Roman turned onto Virgil's street, adhering to the 10 mph speed limit. He cruised to a stop in front of... what was apparently Virgil's house.

It wasn't what Roman was expecting at all. Not that his... notion, that Virgil's house looked something like Gru's house from Despicable Me, was something he thought was realistic. He just hadn't known how else to imagine it. Instead of anything close to dark and sinister, the outer walls were made of some gentle tan planks all stacked horizontally. There was a light turquoise front door with a rounded top, and to its left a large window covered most of the street-facing wall. In the window, Roman could see a round inviting table with a mother, a father and a young boy sharing dinner, all smiling and seemingly caught up in their nightly banter. They were all laughing and seemed so... happy. The house itself seemed to emanate a calm happiness.

"Is this...?" Roman gestured vaguely toward the house with the address Virgil had given him.

"Yep. There's my parents, and my brother. I guess I just missed the start of dinner." Virgil reached down between his ankles to grab his bag.

"Talk about clashing aesthetics." Roman smiled mischievously at Virgil, hoping to lighten the mood without sounding like a complete jerk, at least.

Virgil caught onto this, looking over and offering him a breathy laugh. "I know. It's almost a crime for me to live here."

Roman giggled, and they found themselves stuck looking into each other's eyes once again.

"W-well, I'd better-" Virgil turned and made to open his door, but something possessed Roman to lean over to Virgil and grab his shirt, accidentally pulling him far too close to his face. They both yelped simultaneously at the close proximity, and Virgil leapt back as far as his seat would allow him, grabbing it similarly to how he'd done when Roman had nearly driven through the red light earlier.

Virgil almost said something, but some noise outside stopped him. He turned to seek its source, giving Roman a view past him as well.

"Virgil, honey, is that you?" his mom called from the doorstep. She held Atticus on her hip, and Virgil's dad towered behind them in the doorway. all of them were waving. Virgil waved back deftly, and opened the car door. He turned to Roman once again, who looked as though someone had just stomped on his heart and twisted their foot viciously.

Virgil couldn't bring himself to smile at him, but offered instead something he hoped sounded kind. "See you in class tomorrow. And... thanks again for the ride."

With that, Virgil got out and shut the door behind him, and Roman watched as he reunited with his picture perfect family, unable to move for some god forsaken reason.

"Is that one of your friends from that biology project, Virgil? He's so cute!" Roman could hear Virgil's mom squeal at her approaching son.

"Mom, leave it be, will you? he's-" Virgil's voice was cut off as their front door was shut. Roman eventually managed to take a single deep breath.

He twisted in his seat to face forward again, gripping the steering wheel with whitening knuckles and staring blankly at the mustang logo in the wheel's center. What. Was. That.

...

Roman's ride home was fast. At least, it felt much faster than the ride to Virgil's house. He didn't come close to running any more red lights, and before he knew it he was twisting the keys out of the ignition and then stepping through his front door.

He couldn't shake the daze that was clouding all of his senses. He wasn't intercepted by either of his parents on his route from the front door to his bedroom, so there was nothing to distract him from his... distractedness. He flopped onto his bed, laying on his back the same way he'd done less than half an hour ago when Virgil had almost...

That's when the haziness suddenly sped up, and the fog in Roman's brain rapidly became a hurricane. He was so confused by his own feelings that he had to squeeze his eyes shut to will away a sob. He didn't know what he was doing anymore. He pushed the palms of his hands against his closed eyelids, trying to distract himself with the aching pain and sparkling stars they brought to his eyes.

Meanwhile, Virgil had eaten dinner, thankfully and willingly accepting the pleasant distraction of his family's company. His mom was an excellent cook, and Atticus was extra animated about the stories of his adventures at school that day. He and his best friend had apparently played by the creek during recess, and found a tadpole to poke and prod. Virgil found his brother very endearing when he told his stories.

However, as all things are, his distraction was only temporary. Soon he found himself having finished the washing up after dinner and slowly trudging his way up the stairs to his room. The moment he shut his door behind him, all of the feelings that had been kept down since he'd gotten out of Roman's car crashed into him like a 20 foot wave. He leaned back against the shut door, sinking down to sit on the floor and hold his knees.

Roman and Virgil, clueless of each other, had the exact same thought at the exact same time.

Fuck. Why do I feel this way?

#ts patton #patton sanders #logan sanders #roman sanders #ts roman #ts virgil #ts logan #virgil sanders #prinxiety #virgil x roman #patton x logan #logicality #sanders sides #thomas sanders #sanders sides fanfiction #slow burn #high school au

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richietoaster · 5 years ago

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Review/Reaction of IT Chapter Two

Let’s just start right off the bat and let me just say that Bill Hader better get a fucking award for his performance.

Alright. Here we go y’all. im trying to stay in order with what happened but so much happened in the movie that my brain is just all over the place so excuse me while i try to form words

UNDER THE CUT CONTAINS MAJOR SPOILERS

• first opening scene is a fucking LOT okay like i sobbed my eyes out and it was just not cool. adrian and his boyfriend? CUTE AF. Him getting brutally beat up and then killed by Pennywise while Don just watches? NOT CUTE AF

• Mike is a precious boy and I love him so. He cares about his friends so much holy shit. they all get mad at him for lying to them tho.But he only did it to protect them. Mike knew some SHIT(tm) our boy is so smart?? I’m glad they kept to his original storyline

• Older Bill gave himself so much shit this film and i just felt so bad. like we know it isnt ur fault okay?? We know you loved your brother, stop putting yourself down. also?? him becoming protective over dean? please stop my aching heart.

• Jessica Chastain owns my whole heart and she can kick my ass anyday. She plays Bev so well and captures young bev’s personality so well. her scene with mrs kersh was very weird. i knew the second she ran naked in the hall i’d be seeing some weird fucking shit okay

• Jay Ryan could kick me and I would personally thank him like?? wow what a man. He immediately recognizes bev when he first sees her and im just?? im happy. so many hidden new kids on the block reference and it had me fucking rolling in my grave

• JAMES FUCKING RANSONE MY DUDE OH LORD okay listen. he gives off young eddie’s panic and chaotic energy so perfectly i felt like i was watching him as an adult, who just never grew up. I think thats what he was going for honestly. He played eddie SO FUCKING WELL

• I’m so sad about stan. THats all you need to know okay. I’ll talk about his letter later on in this. Stan deserved better. that’s all.

• if you are not a fan of vomit you’re not gonna enjoy richie tozier. literally any time something bad happens hes just like ah shit here we go again *vomits* and honestly? that made me laugh. like hes just like oh shit something is happening let.. let me just.. no no its fine guys ill catch up.. EHBWFIJHDFSIJ no okay but bill hader stole the fucking show. his acting was phenomenal and,, again,, i’ll add more onto that later.

• richie scares the shit out of dean. because he thinks hes pennywise. but can you blame him? the kid just. stared at him all creepy and shit. but its so funny. the losers make fun of him bc he doesnt know his own lines from his acts and richies just like “I dont write my own material” and eddies just like “I KNEW IT! I FUCKING KNEW IT” dead. goodbye.

• Young losers were still my favorite part honestly. Eddie kept bouncing that stupid ball in stan’s face in the clubhouse and i was waiting for him to get punched in the face tbh. That didn’t even seem like eddie, that was Jack’s energy bursting through the seams lmfao

• young eddie runs into a fucking box and shrieks and if that isn’t me idk ewhdfiajksjdoi

• THE FUCKING. HAMMOCK. SCENE. okay listen to me. thats gay. hammocks are now gay. gays only. gay interacts only. the bickering between reddie had me in TEARS. eddie kept kicking at his face and just?? casually??? lays on him when richie wont move??

• stan’s fucking shower cap ehfdiujasdiosa and then richie being like “nobodys afraid of spiders stanley okay” and eddie slowly removes his because he cares what richie thinks more than spiders ok

• a flashback from after they defeated IT in the first move with reddie “eddie youve been gone for 24 hours your face is most likely on a milk carton by now” “shut up richie”

• yong Richie has me weak af this whole movie, like always. just getting on Eddie’s case. HE PINES SO HARD OH Y GOD Like wow my sweet boy is so fucking in love ouch. which?? BRINGS ME TO MY NEXT POINT??

• THE ARCADE SCENE?? he checks out the kid standing next to him and tries to get him to hang out more and then the other kid tells him to stop being weird because he’s not gay, too, and then uses the F slur. richie was just so hurt. paul bunyun scene happens after that and hes just like “I just shit my pants” and i cried.

• pennywise screaming “lets play truth or dare, you wouldnt pick truth! you dont want them to know your secret” gave off the same energy as eddie’s leper blowjob scene from the book. same energy. do with that as you will.

• they had some flashbacks that included pennywise and im not sure if this was before or after they had defeated IT in the first movie but i interpreted it as after and if thats the case... hes supposed to be dead. but now thinking back on it, it was probably just more scenes before they put pennywise to rest for 27 years.

• young richie went to the kissing bridge after that and we ALL KNOW WHAT HAPPENED THERE. fucking.. r + e :((( although we don’t see him carving the E. but reddie is canon so suck toes antis

• stephen king pretty much being like “I know u and ur endings really do suck” to bill when he comes to buy his bike was so fucking funny. it almost felt like a self insert lmfao. ALSO HIM MAKING BILL PAY 300 BUCKS FOR THE BIKE BC HE KNEW HE COULD AFFORD IT? iconic.

• richie and eddie opening the door to the dog had me laughing. pennywise was just mocking them at that point. they’d be such good dog dads and now im sad

• i was really confused because they added part of stan’s bar mitzvah?? like it wasn’t even the same from the first movie. like they should’ve just put the deleted scene in from ch. 1 and then added that part. thats one of my very few complaints. im slowly hiding them in here.

• henry bowers was kinda irrelevant in this honestly but thank you eddie for stabbing him and richie for killing him for trying to kill mike yall heroes

• BEVS BLOOD SCENE ?? CORRESPONDING WITH BENS BURIED ALIVE SCENE? poetic cinema. 10/10

• the big fight really disappointed me in all honesty. but i think thats because andy said he cut so much from there. i expect it to be better with the director’s cut

• eddie saving richie and then immediately being stabbed by pennywise’s claw? IM DEPRESSED.

• “Rich! rich, i did it! i think i killed him!” Our boy was so happy with himself :(

• eddie’s last words WERE NOT “i fucked your mom”. he was talking to richie and you can hear them talking while the rest are preparing to end pennywise. so im hoping we get that as a deleted scene.

• richie goes back to help finish pennywise but when he goes to check on eddie.. he’s dead. ://// and bev is like “richie, come on, honey.. im sorry” and richie does not want to believe him. he grabs and hugs eddie so tight i swear i could feel that hug from the audience.

• another thing im disappointed in and am sliding in is some of the animations? Like. fucking weird. but okay. luckily i didn’t care too much.

• THE SOB that richie lets out when he holds eddie really hurt my fucking soul jesus christ just kill me

• the losers try cheering him up after and like. thats their friend too but you can just totally tell he’s crying in a different type of grief. THAT WAS HIS FIRST FUCKING LOVE.

• they all remember after and thats really important to me okay

• stan writes letters and its spoken outloud while the other losers get little montages of what theyre doing with their life after the battle. Richie goes back to the kissing bridge and recarves- YES RECARVES AND YOU CAN CLEARLY SEE THE E BEFORE HE DOES- he recarves the E and while doing it, stan’s voice says “be proud of who you are” and im fucking cry ibg okay

• in the end, i give this movie a 7/10 rating. although some of the animations were weird and some of the flashbacks had pennywise in it (like hes supposed to be currently dead but ok... maybe nightmares??) the actors were PHENOMENAL and the chemistry between older richie and older eddie made me so happy. my ship is canon. but im still sad about stan and eddies death.

• ignoring canon in 3.. 2.. 1.. now

#it chapter 2 #it chapter two spoilers #IT CHAPTER TWO #it chapter 2 spoilers #IT SPOILERS #reddie #richie tozier #eddie kaspbrak #bill denbrough #mike hanlon #beverly marsh #ben hanscom #stanley uris

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harrowdubois · 4 years ago

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okay, i said if there was interest i would think about making a post listing all the references i squeezed into the locked tomb fic i spent the last month or so writing, and now i’ve realised i don’t care if there’s interest because i want to be self-indulgent SO

under the cut is a (somewhat spoilery) chronological list of all the memes, vines, and cribbed tumblr posts, as well as homages to various books, tv shows, song lyrics, etc. that made their way into blessed with a wilder mind!

(cw for suicide mention)

this is of course a reference to the legendary bodybuilding forum thread where they did, actually, argue over how many days there are in a week (cw for ableist slurs in the thread)

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buzzfeed unsolved meme. i am dirt and i love to eat dirt

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this is so well-known it’s almost not worth listing it but oh my god they were roommates

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in itself, this isn’t a reference to anything in particular, but if you didn’t do this on your first read then i’d recommend taking another look at this scene and thinking about the specific wuthering heights/frankenstein/rebecca excerpts discussed by harrow and mercymorn but in relation to canon!harrow’s trauma/relationship with the body in htn :~)

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also not really a reference to anything in particular but when i looked back over the fic for this post it struck me that the ‘sex panther’ phrasing was probably at least partially unconsciously inspired by the shoebox project (professor mcgonagall’s oiled man panther was a formative moment for me, truly)

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cw gross/unsanitary: it’s the tinder poop window incident. i mentioned this in the end notes of the fic as being what i had in mind for that scene but if it’s too gross for you (UNDERSTANDABLY) then feel free to Death Of The Author me to your heart’s content!

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i listened to a lot of orville peck while writing this

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very very very loosely inspired by this clickhole article

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respectively: fourth of july by sufjan stevens / wuthering heights by emily bronte

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TWO BROS, CHILLIN IN A HOT TUB, FIVE FEET APART BECAUSE THEY’RE NOT GAY

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there was absolutely no need to stretch this across three paragraphs, and yet

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iconic

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i already linked to this one in the end notes of the fic itself, but it’s good, so here it is again

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i can’t find the actual original post but it’s this fucking horrible thing

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the last line is a reference to the secret history by donna tartt:

“Could it be because it reminds us that we are alive, of our mortality, of our individual souls- which, after all, we are too afraid to surrender but yet make us feel more miserable than any other thing? But isn't it also pain that often makes us most aware of self? It is a terrible thing to learn as a child that one is a being separate from the world, that no one and no thing hurts along with one's burned tongues and skinned knees, that one's aches and pains are all one’s own. Even more terrible, as we grow old, to learn that no person, no matter how beloved, can ever truly understand us. Our own selves make us most unhappy, and that's why we're so anxious to lose them, don't you think?”

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a lyrical double whammy!

from ‘last words of a shooting star’ by mitski: “they’ll never know how i’d stared at the dark in that room with no thoughts like a blood-sniffing shark”

from ‘a better son/daughter’ by rilo kiley: “sometimes in the morning i am petrified but can’t move/awake but cannot open my eyes”

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shout-out to maybe my single favourite video game moment, the encounter with the sky cat in night in the woods: “There is a hole at the center of everything, and it is always growing. Between the stars I am seeing it. It is coming, and you are not escaping, and the universe is forgetting you, and the universe is being forgotten, and there is nothing to remember it, not even the things beyond. And now there is only the hole... You are atoms, and your atoms are not caring if you are existing. Your atoms are monstrous existence.”

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“Nothing is ever fulfilled, not until the very end.” - rust cohle, true detective s1, this reference is VERY tonally dissonant because in context it’s actually grim as all hell but w/e w/e i couldn’t resist the shout-out

also harrow quotes from the goldfinch again here! i had the reference included before i read this post and realised tamsyn muir also quotes from the secret history in htn. terrible synergy

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they are in fact all real. you’re welcome

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this one’s doing a lot of work lmao. it’s paying homage to this quote by tamsyn muir talking about the draco-in-leather-pants trope in relation to ianthe by loosely referencing drop dead gorgeous, the best drarry fic ever written, in which harry is part veela

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“It's a very Greek idea, and a very profound one. Beauty is terror. Whatever we call beautiful, we quiver before it. And what could be more terrifying and beautiful, to souls like the Greeks or our own, than to lose control completely? To throw off the chains of being for an instant, to shatter the accident of our mortal selves? Euripides speaks of the Maenads: head thrown I back, throat to the stars, "more like deer than human being." To be absolutely free! One is quite capable, of course, of working out these destructive passions in more vulgar and less efficient ways. But how glorious to release them in a single burst! To sing, to scream, to dance barefoot in the woods in the dead of night, with no more awareness of mortality than an animal! These are powerful mysteries. The bellowing of bulls. Springs of honey bubbling from the ground. If we are strong enough in our souls we can rip away the veil and look that naked, terrible beauty right in the face; let God consume us, devour us, unstring our bones. Then spit us out reborn.” - that’s right it’s another reference to the secret history, with a little bit of mary oliver (tell me, what is it you plan to do with your one wild and precious life?) sprinkled on top for flavour

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a small one, but it’s the goldfinch again: “And I feel I have something very urgent and serious to say to you, my non-existent reader, and I feel I should say it as urgently as if I were standing in the room with you...”

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my FUCKING cinnamon apple

what if i... put my minecraft bed.... next to yours... aha ha just kidding.... unless?

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[cw: suicide discussion in these next two]

robyn can have little a rust cohle quote, as a treat.

1. “I'd consider myself a realist, all right? But in philosophical terms I'm what's called a pessimist... I think human consciousness is a tragic misstep in evolution. We became too self-aware. Nature created an aspect of nature separate from itself. We are creatures that should not exist by natural law... We are things that labor under the illusion of having a self, that accretion of sensory experience and feelings, programmed with total assurance that we are each somebody, when in fact everybody's nobody... I think the honorable thing for our species to do is to deny our programming. Stop reproducing, walk hand in hand into extinction; one last midnight, brothers and sisters opting out of a raw deal.”

2. “This... This is what I'm talking about. This is what I mean when I'm talkin' about time, and death, and futility. All right, there are broader ideas at work, mainly what is owed between us as a society for our mutual illusions. Fourteen straight hours of staring at DBs, these are the things you think of. You ever done that? You look in their eyes, even in a picture, doesn't matter if they're dead or alive, you can still read 'em. You know what you see? They welcomed it... Not at first, but... right there in the last instant. It's an unmistakable relief. See, cause they were afraid, and now they saw for the very first time how easy it was to just... let go. Yeah, they saw, in that last nanosecond, they saw... what they were. You, yourself, this whole big drama, it was never more than a jerry-rig of presumption and dumb will, and you could just let go. To finally know that you didn't have to hold on so tight. To realize that all your life - you know, all your love, all your hate, all your memories, all your pain - it was all the same thing. It was all the same dream, a dream that you had inside a locked room, a dream about being a person.”

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ahaaa this one’s particularly rough. evil monkey no one alive dot jpg

“Later, that dozy embrace solidified in his memory as the single moment of artless, charmed happiness in their separate and difficult lives. Nothing marred it, even the knowledge that Ennis would not then embrace him face to face because he did not want to see or feel that it was Jack he held. And maybe, he thought, they’d never got much farther than that. Let be, let be.” - annie proulx, brokeback mountain

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a TRIPLE lyrical whammy!

- harrow’s words to gideon in the dream are a bit of a vague reference to the song ‘adventures in solitude’ by the new pornographers (”we thought we lost you/welcome back”) - gideon’s words to harrow are a reference to the song ‘blush’ by wolf alice (”you’ve got two hands to take all you can/but don’t take too long”) - what harrow texts to gideon is a line from ‘about today’ by the national, aka the most devastating song ever written (”hey, are you awake?/yeah i’m right here”...)

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i CANNOT find a clip of it but harrow’s repetition of “life is short... it’s short” was me paraphrasing from memory a line from pride (2014), because i am the worst

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spooky scary skeletons!

“jail for gideon” is obviously a reference to the “jail for mother” tweet that tm also referenced in htn. so, not original in the slightest, but it’s a great tweet

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one of my favourite tumblr posts

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because naberius tern absolutely would watch rick and morty. he would. i know it in my heart.

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and that’s it, i think. hope you enjoyed this horrid little post and my horrid little fic!

#the locked tomb #books #robyn posts

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birlcholtz · 5 years ago

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Bittydex??? (Also your bitty/holster and bittyrans hcs were works of art)

omg. the baking duo. i don’t think i’ve ever like seriously thought about them but NOW I AM AND I LOVE IT HERE GOES

dex is originally wary of bitty for a lot of reasons but a big one is that bitty is openly gay and cute and thus firmly jeopardizes dex’s ability to stay closeted/repress everything for his entire time in college. oh boy.

but of course, eventually he’s like y’know what fuck it whatever bitty’s cool i can do this

and as he gets to know bitty, it’s almost laughable how different they are, but dex eventually kind of internalizes the correlation between baking and being openly gay (for bitty) as a kind of... causation? like, maybe he can get more confident about himself if he embraces baking too. is this good logic? i actually have no idea dex is tired let him live

so anyway that’s what has him, only about a month into his first semester (listen everyone on the team is so goddamn supportive of bitty and dex sees how much he loves being here and!! he wants that too!!! so yes he gives up on the whole ‘repress’ thing very fast), poking his head into the kitchen when he hears bitty opening and closing the fridge in a pattern that means he’s getting out ingredients and asking if he wants help

bitty is all in favor of literally anything dex does that isn’t fighting with nursey and he’s also glad that dex is seeking him out, because come on bitty has heard from nursey about the adventure with the samwell republicans sticker and even though it’s gone now he can’t help being a little concerned?

so dex asking if he can help with the baking is good for both of them honestly

bitty immediately sets him to cutting up fruit and they talk a bit as they work but mostly it’s just kind of a comfortable quiet (not silence because bitty’s got some music playing, but quiet is different entirely)

bitty eventually finds out through some subtle comments on dex’s part that his family is absolutely rampant with toxic masculinity and homophobia and that for dex, literally baking in and of itself, not just slice and bake cookies but actually baking something from scratch and spending time in the kitchen willingly, is an act of rebellion

it’s a lot easier for dex to find out that bitty’s relationship with his parents is a tiny bit strained because he’s not out at home, because bitty talks about his mother so much that it’s easy to infer. sometimes he tells dex about something his father did that his mother told him about. he never seems to talk to his father though

so baking becomes a kind of... alliance, i guess? the two of them are united. bitty does have his suspicions about why, perhaps, dex is so keen on getting to know bitty in particular-- his comments about the homophobia in his family make bitty even more suspicious-- but he doesn’t say anything. that’s not for him to ask about.

(chowder and nursey know that dex bakes with bitty a lot. chowder is glad because it means the baked goods get produced faster and he’s also glad that dex is spending time with bitty because he always seems more relaxed afterwards and it really does help stop him and nursey from fighting. nursey is intrigued because he’d thought after taddy tour (and after the first couple weeks of their first year) that dex would avoid bitty like the plague. he’s curious enough to accept that maybe dex has hidden depths. that also helps with the fighting.)

when they go home for winter break, dex and bitty agree to contact each other if they need to vent or just talk to someone they can relax around. neither of them has any legit emergencies, but they do text a lot and call each other a few times. bitty sends a picture of a pie, dex responds with ‘god i wish it’s so weird not being in the kitchen all the time. my brother gives me weird looks’ and bitty immediately starts compiling recipes for them to make as soon as they’re back at samwell

dex fixes the oven for the first time of many and bitty is so thrilled that he just kind of throws his arms around dex, who freezes for a second before letting himself hug bitty too (honestly i don’t remember if this happens before or after winter break but either way. same thing applies)

and in spring semester dex becomes fully aware that he has a problem. which is that spending time in the kitchen has changed from a hope that it’ll help him feel able to be more open to just wanting to see bitty, and be around bitty, and hear bitty’s voice and the casual endearments he throws around like they’re nothing and the way he puts a tense hand on dex’s arm while they’re both watching the oven to see if it’s going to actually preheat, and his smile and compliments when dex does something right and the way he flicks water at dex right after he washes his hands to get him to laugh, and the way he slides on oven mitts with the same calm efficiency that he steps onto the ice for warmups and dex is fucked. okay?? he’s fucked. the whole reason he’d been wary of bitty in the beginning was because he was worried about falling for him and guess what??? he did

but at the same time, dex can’t make himself shove it down. he’s still not out at samwell, but he’s getting to a point where he feels like he might be comfortable with that. bitty is probably tied with chowder for being his closest friend. dex can’t find it in himself to push all of that away.

as for bitty, he’s gone from being pleasantly surprised that dex is a fairly quick learner in the kitchen to looking forward to baking with him. dex always relaxes when he’s there, and bitty is sure that dex doesn’t know this, but he’s beautiful when he’s not so goddamn stressed. but at the same time, bitty knows dex is Going Through It with regards to sexuality-- he’s gone from being suspicious that maybe dex isn’t straight to knowing it but still waiting for dex to say something himself. so he keeps those thoughts to himself but it’s nice to see dex smile. especially when bitty knows he caused that

also dex keeps fixing the oven over and over and bitty knows that dex bakes a lot too so like. he has selfish reasons to fix the oven? but dex will LEAP to fix the oven if something is wrong with it and when he figures it out he always gives bitty this relieved smile that bitty is finding makes him increasingly flustered.

in the midst of all of this, dex is consulting with the upperclassmen about the best kind of oven to get bitty for his birthday. it’s a little over a month away, but between jack, ransom, and dex, they’re probably going to be incredibly overprepared because it’s what they do

in early april, dex pushes a bowl of sliced cherries over to bitty and says, ‘i’m gay.’ and bitty leaves the cherries where they are and hugs dex as tightly as he can, because he knows how long it’s taken dex to be ready to say that and he knows that in not very long, they’re both going home to places where they don’t know if they can ever say that

they stand there like that for a while, and dex doesn’t cry, but he almost does, and that’s when he says, okay, let’s bake this pie. and bitty agrees. (when it’s cooled, they eat almost half of it themselves before telling anyone else there’s pie)

baking together feels just a tiny bit different after that. not bad-- not bad at all. just a bit different. dex coming out changes their dynamic a little, because it means bitty finally lets himself acknowledge that he’s kind of got a huge crush on him, and then bitty basically can’t stop the endearments from coming out of his mouth. he tries to keep it to things he also says to the rest of the team-- mostly ‘hon’ and such-- but dex catalogues every sweetheart that slips out, and he knows he blushes, and both of them can’t help but feel that they’re dancing around something

then bitty’s birthday arrives, and dex installs the oven as quickly as he can while still double- and triple-checking things, and he’s just standing up and packing his toolbox back up when bitty and nursey enter the kitchen, and dex can’t help but blush when bitty looks at him like he hung the moon

and then bitty hugs him and dex hugs him back so hard that bitty is lifted off of the ground, and the rest of the team looks at each other like are you seeing this too??? because literally none of them noticed anything except that dex likes baking almost as much as bitty does. nobody realized there might be another reason lol

and both of them, independently, think that this might be the moment. but then the moment passes, and then they’re taking finals and getting ready to go home for the summer, and dex and bitty make the same promise they did over winter break but there’s more of a sense of urgency about it.

at first, they call each other once a week, just to keep up. bitty learns dex has taken to hanging out with his high school sort of-girlfriend, who’s got super short hair now and introduces him to hayley kiyoko’s music, and his family probably thinks they’re dating again but mostly they just wander around when neither of them has work, or they hang out in each other’s rooms (with the doors open, because of household rules). in july, she whispers to dex about her girlfriend in new hampshire and dex, that night when both of them are at home, texts her about his... well, bitty. whatever he and bitty are to each other (he also shows her a picture of bitty and she’s like oh he’s cute and dex is like yeah he really is)

the first person dex sees when he gets back to campus that august is chowder, who’s on his way to the haus after walking with farmer to the volleyball house. they’d been on the same flight back and have spent the whole last week together, along with plenty of other visits and trips with each other over the whole summer, and dex’s whole chest aches with how much he wants that. and yeah, it’s different for chowder and farmer, who live an hour away from each other in california and can see each other basically whenever they want, but chowder talks about how much his sisters love farmer and how their families got together for the 4th of july and dex aches.

they get to the haus, and everyone who’s arrived has congregated in the kitchen, where bitty is making a strawberry rhubarb pie dex has made with him at least five times. it’s second nature to come into the kitchen and head straight for the counter. bitty passes him the filling ingredients without a word, but with a smile, and keeps going. (the rest of the team trade looks)

but dex feels daring. all that talking to chowder about farmer has made him envious. so later, when most of the team is in the living room chatting about their summers and bitty’s headed upstairs to plug his phone in, dex slips out of the living room, heads upstairs, and knocks on bitty’s door. and bitty opens it and puts a hand on dex’s arm almost automatically when he asks how his summer was, and maybe that’s why dex feels bold enough to say, ‘it was okay. but i missed you.’

and bitty smiles softly at him and says, ‘i missed you too.’

the next time they’re watching the oven to make sure it preheats-- the new oven is actually functional, so it’s more habit than anything-- dex feels bitty’s hand slip into his own, and he immediately looks at bitty, who’s determinedly looking at the oven, and squeezes his hand. and then bitty looks at him, and dex can’t help but smile

some headcanons:

dex is a master of identifying when someone is aiming to check bitty during a game and immediately just. getting in their way. he’s very obstinate

does dex enable bitty’s procrastibaking? more than he wants to. he’s fully aware when he gives in that he probably shouldn’t, but it’s very hard to keep bitty from doing something he wants to do

bitty always brings dex tea or hot chocolate or a snack if he’s studying or fighting with java in the computer lab. the other compsci majors are very jealous

bitty is also a great sounding board for dex when he’s trying to figure out how to solve problems. explaining the problem to someone who doesn’t know anything about coding is a time-honored tactic of programmers everywhere and bitty is always willing to listen

winter trips to murder stop ‘n shop inevitably result in bitty walking as close to dex as is physically possible. (’it’s COLD’ ‘sure it is’)

the kitchen becomes the place where people can automatically find both of them. they’re just there all the time

flannel stealing? flannel stealing. they always find their way back into dex’s possession soon enough, but not before bitty’s worn them enough that they smell like him

lardo gives her dibs to nursey because dex basically lives at the haus already anyway. he does still wind up converting the basement into another room though because he needs a place where he can get work done and any room that bitty’s in isn’t conducive to that. yes it still has a steam shower because dex is extra as fuck

with regard to fining the rest of the team, they absolutely have a good cop/bad cop routine worked out. who is which depends on the day

chowder: bitty’s officially gone mad with power. dex: yeah i kinda like it. chowder: keep it in your pants

#bittydex #omgcp #fun with rarepairs

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unfortunatelydestiel · 4 years ago

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I found some old destiel fics I’d started about 2-3 years ago but never finished and BOI I’m so mad at myself for not having finished any of them cos I wanted to read them, but here’s a wordy basic one im mad at myself for not completing and am not 100% sure where it was headed...

About 3k words? WARNING: Cas steals blankets :I ((Also some time travel thing iirc, but Dean’s in such Denial(tm) for reasons))

***

The sharp pain in Dean’s head lasted only a second before numbing and then disappearing entirely. Dean gave a low groan, rubbing his eyes and opening them, his first thought being-

Where the fuck am I?

The first view Dean got was of a wooden roof, and sitting up, took in the bedroom he was in. It appeared to be part of a wooden cabin, right outside the window was nothing but trees, and a blasting of sunlight through the crack of the door on the other side of the room. The bed moved slightly, and Dean had been so still he knew it hadn’t been him to create the movement, which made him highly aware that someone was in the bed next to him (and stolen all the blankets no less, as Dean saw he only wore underwear).

Whoever was next to him in the bed had wrapped themselves up entirely, so Dean really had no idea who was there. He didn’t even know where he was, fingers going to his temples and he rubbed. The last thing he could remember happening was being on a hunt with Sam, that he was sure about. But what had they been hunting again? He couldn’t remember, he was sure they’d figured it out.

His hand went to his neck, and he felt string around it, looking down and seeing a small container that lit up bright around his neck. If he knew better, he’d say it was Angel Grace, but that couldn’t be possible. Not likely. Because where would he get that during the night? He decided to just pretend it didn’t exist for now.

Careful not to wake his sleeping neighbour – most likely a one-night stand, but he usually woke up naked after those so that confused him further – Dean quietly placed his feet on the floor, glancing at the bedside table, noting it was six in the morning, and standing up.

He opened the door as much as he dared, which faintly creaked, he shimmied out into the hallway. The sun was coming out of a window right outside the door, and Dean couldn’t help but grin widely and the view of the beach. A clean, empty, clear-skied, calm beach. He cranked open the window, also wooden, also creaking, but he didn’t care so much, just wanting the breeze of the beach on his face. Dean leaned against the window, elbows on the window sill and clasping his fingers together. That’s when he felt the metal of a ring on his left hand, one that had never been there before. And he looked down, so stunned everything else around him was forgotten momentarily.

It was a wedding ring. It had to be. Why else would it be on his ring finger? It was a silver band, but with something engraved on it, and when he brought it closer to his face he saw it was a wing. A feathery-styled potentially-angelic wing.

Dean mentally cursed at the fact his right hand was trembling as he went to take it off. Part of him knew what it would say, he wasn’t sure how or why. But part of him expected this unasked want, and looked inside the ring, seeing an engraved-

Dean + Cas

Dean shoved the ring back onto his finger, breath hitching and he closed his eyes to calm himself down.

What the hell had been the last thing to happen? Why couldn’t he remember? Should he wake Cas to ask? – because it had to be Cas in there – And what about Sam? Where the hell was Sam?

Dean opened his eyes again, and closed the window, deciding to take a quick peek around the cabin. The hallway wasn’t long, with one other room – currently lined with some boxes – and a bathroom on one end, and to the other he came into the open living room and kitchen. It was definitely a two-person place, and judging by the protective sigils on the doors and walls, maybe a hunter’s cabin.

At least it was on the beach.

Through the door in the kitchen was the patio, with stairs leading down to the beach. Which meant the door on the other side of the room would be the entry, and – yep, Dean realised when he looked out – lead out into a forest, there was a dirt and sand road, as well as a carport with Baby parked underneath.

At least he knew where she was. Dean was slightly relieved, closing the door and quickly searching around the room.

He spotted a phone on the kitchen counter, picking it up and hoping it was his by trying his pin code, but he stopped at the photo on the lock screen.

Sam was the one clearly taking the self, judging from the position. His younger brother pulling a dumb face, and then there was Dean and Cas. Cas was hugging Dean from behind, head on his shoulder and Dean’s head was turned to give him a peck on his cheek.

He stared for a good moment, before swiping fast, ignoring the churning in his stomach. He tried his pin and bingo, he got in. Without a second thought he called Sam.

“Dean?” the groggy voice from the other end said, “What time is it?”

“Sammy,” Dean hissed, “where are you?”

“Uhh… the other side of the country,” Sam said, and Dean had no idea why he was being so cryptic like that, “I called you yesterday, Eileen and I are tracking down a rugarou. Why are you calling? Did something happen? Is Cas okay?”

“Where’s Jack?” Dean asked, not wanting to answer any of those questions because he really had no idea.

“Uhh… At Sioux Falls, helping out the girls. Dude, seriously, are you drunk?”

“I’m fine,” Dean eventually said, hating Sam’s tone of voice. “I’m fine. I mean, I think I’m fine. I don’t know if I’m fine.”

There was silence on the other end, eventually Sam spoke, sounding exasperated “You’re not having a gay panic on your honeymoon, are you? Because, Dean, it’s kind of a little late for that if you haven’t noticed.”

Dean spluttered, “I’m not- I’m- I… what the hell is that supposed to mean?”

“Just talk to Cas. I’ll call you when the Rugarou’s hunted and I’m back at the Bunker,” Sam sounded so done, and he must’ve been because Dean couldn’t say anything else and Sam had already hung up on him.

Dean glared at his phone like it had insulted him. Well, it felt like Sam had definitely insulted him. A gay panic? Please. He’s not panicking because he’s married to Cas – well maybe a little – more like… it’s Cas, and he’s… a little surprised is all, but there wasn’t a bad feeling that came from it, weirdly. And Dean rubbed his face, then put his head in his hands, groaning. Talk to Cas, Sam had said, and he was right, he should, but how was Dean going to say he can’t remember jackshit. He doesn’t want to see Cas’ reaction to that, but it’s not like he can lie.

“Dean?” He heard down the hall, “It’s six in the morning…”

Great, great, now he’d have to handle Cas now and he wasn’t sure he could. From around the corner, a very sleepy and definitely human Cas peeked around at him. His hair was wild mess and he had all the blankets from bed wrapped around him, where it partly dragged across the floor.

At any other time, Dean might’ve been angry and given a scolding because their blankets are going to be dirty, but he couldn’t help but be delighted at the sight of Cas.

“You okay?” Cas asked, trying to fight a yawn but giving in.

“Yeah,” Dean said, because despite whatever the hell was happening, right now in these few seconds he was perfectly fine.

Cas dragged himself over to him, noticing his phone in front of him on the counter and he frowned, “Did somebody call at this time in the morning?”

“Oh no… I uh… called Sammy.”

Cas was still frowning when he looked up at Dean, the bed blankets rubbing up against him as Cas adjusted them, “What’s wrong, Dean?”

It was now or never, Dean thought. Time to lie or tell the truth, and Dean hated himself for what he said next, “I just had a bad feeling when I woke up is all. But Sammy’s fine.”

Cas’ frown disappeared and it turned into a small smile, resting his forehead onto Dean’s shoulder and sighing into him. Dean found himself unable to move, wondering what he should do next. Part of him wanted to do something, but another part of him said to step away, to not do this.

Cas looked up at him with an expression he was unfamiliar with seeing on Cas’ face, and Dean felt fingers caressing down his side, “Come back to bed,” Dean felt Cas’ warm breath on his ear.

Dean, on the other hand, felt himself unable to breath again, and put on a poker face so Cas couldn’t tell that he was, probably, having what Sam had called a gay panic.

Despite not trying to reveal feelings, he must have completely revealed feelings, because Cas instantly stepped away, grabbing Dean’s hand into his as though for comfort and was frowning again, “Dean – Something’s wrong, what is it?”

If this were angel Cas, he’d be certain Cas was using his abilities to be able to read Dean. But, it was pretty damn clear that Cas was no longer an angel and the fact that any human could see right through him made Dean feel awkward. And because of the discomfort, Dean said nothing for a moment, hell he didn’t even move, keeping Cas’ hand in his. He looked the former angel up and down, the blanket fallen enough that Dean could see what Cas was finally wearing. A pair of what might’ve been grey pyjama pants or sweat pants Dean didn’t know, and no shirt on, a hickey pretty visible at the bottom of his neck. Dean felt like he should be embarrassed by it, but his only thought was if they married then hell- that’s definitely bound to happen.

And the lack of embarrassment or disgust made Dean awkward again because he should be right? He should be thinking how fucking weird it was that in this moment Cas was holding his hand, a ring on each of their fingers and yeah- he has no idea what the fuck is going on but he shouldn’t be completely apathetic by a hickey he probably gave Cas.

“Dean,” Cas repeated, staring intently into his eyes, Cas’ own blue ones wide and filled with worry.

“I dunno,” Dean said gently pulling his hand from Cas’, looking away. He went over and sat on the couch which looked partly moth-eaten and would make most people turn away from this place for their own honeymoon, but Dean didn’t give a damn. The couch, while shabby, was comfy as hell.

He pushed the thoughts of everything that was happening right now away, trying to think what was happening before, what this could be. He couldn’t’ve time travelled because he wouldn’t be in his own body. A different type of time travel? Just straight up memory loss?

He couldn’t think through it further because Cas sat down on the coffee table in front of him, letting the blanket pile around his waist. Cas placed his palm on Dean’s cheek, caressing with his fingers, “Talk to me.”

Dean had pretty much lost himself at this point, his mind going blank, his body was relaxed but unable to move.

This wasn’t real. None of it.

It was a cruel, epically cruel, joke.

Dean found himself able to move his hand, just so he can take Cas’ off his face. This couldn’t happen. “Cas, I don’t remember.”

Dean watched the angel’s – former angel’s – eyebrows knit together. He could see Cas didn’t want to believe him, believe that. “What?”

“All of this, I don’t remember. The wedding… or…” He couldn’t continue.

“I don’t understand,” Cas said. Though going by his expression, he understood perfectly because that was a shattered heart, and was exactly why Dean hadn’t wanted to say anything. So, he kept hold of Cas’ hand because he wasn’t sure how else to comfort him without making it uncomfortable for himself.

This was somebody’s doing. A demon, a trickster…

A djinn??

No, it couldn’t be a djinn. His mind tried to fit that puzzle together. Djinn dreams gave you happiness, and okay sure they’ve met their share of different djinns but if this was run of the mill then this was it.

Or, okay, run of the mill djinns gave you what you thought you wanted. When it was Dean wanting his mum back and a normal life and Sam with a normal life… him and Sammy hadn’t been talking – which definitely wasn’t something Dean had wanted.

He was clearly on speaking terms with Sam, and Sam was out hunting with Eileen so their thing was still a thing. And Jack was in Sioux Falls so a lot of people who they consider family have met each other and get along, helping each other out, hunt together. That was all great and dandy, but he’s pretty sure they’d all be in the bunker and Cas would still be an angel.

But then again, Cas doesn’t have to be an angel, he just has to be Cas. And this was definitely Cas right here. Maybe not heavenly wrath, powered up, feathery wings Cas, but just Cas.

Then Dean was realising his strange line of thought. So, would his Djinn dream still have him with Cas? Angel or not?

No, of course not. Him and Cas would be on good terms. Cas would be around all the time, sure, and not get hurt or killed like ever and Dean wouldn’t have to worry about him or miss him or be thinking about him when he wasn’t there. Cas would choose to stay with them, not running off because of duty, because of that damned feeling of responsibility he seemed to hold for heaven and angels.

But with Cas? Wholly unnecessary... At least... he thought so...

Cas had withdrawn from Dean, now by all the sigils at the doors, checking them all one by one, hands brushing over them.

“What are you doing?” Dean asked.

“M-Maybe we painted a sigil wrong, maybe something got through,” Cas sounded… distressed? It was pretty awful to hear and made Dean stand up.

“Do you… know what it could be?” Dean was almost hopeful, because right now he didn’t like any of his ideas.

“What don’t you remember?” Cas turned instantly to him, walking up and grabbing his shoulders, “the past two weeks? The past two months?” and the next part Cas said with immense distress “the past two years?”

“Cas!” Dean shrugged his hands off, “look okay, the last thing I remember were Sam and I were on a hunt-”

And for a second something flashed in Dean’s mind- a warehouse.

FUCK.

No, this wasn’t a djinn. It couldn’t be.

Cas didn’t look amused, “You and Sam were on a hunt! That doesn’t narrow it down Dean- what were you hunting?”

“I have no idea,” Dean said, ignoring the other flash that went through, “But Cas you gotta calm down-”

“Calm down!” Cas sounded rather furious, “Calm! Dean this is our honeymoon!”

“Yeah I kinda got that,” Dean said quietly, looking down at his wedding ring.

When he looked back up Cas was rubbing his eyes with his hands.

Was Cas crying? Dean wasn’t sure if he could handle- yep… Cas was crying. Or maybe almost crying. He definitely looked pretty panicked with watery eyes.

“Hey,” Dean said, putting a hand on Cas’ shoulder, “it’s okay, we’re going to figure this out okay?” and because he really didn’t want to see Cas- fake or not – so hurt he brought him in for a hug and Cas gripped to him like someone starving for touch.

“You still remember us, right?” Cas said as they hugged, “together?”

Dean didn’t want to say it, he didn’t want to be honest, because he didn’t want to break Cas more than he already had in his life, but he had to and simply replied “No.”

Cas dropped his phone down onto the couch, “I texted Sam to call once he’s finished the hunt.” He’d passed the distressed stage after the revelation and instead kept detached from Dean, not even looking at him.

Dean clenched his jaw, sitting on the couch, not a single idea with what to do or how to handle this.

The blankets still lay on the table and Cas went to gather it up, staying away from Dean as best he could, practically stretching over to it and then snatching it up fast.

“I’m gonna put this back,” Cas muttered.

“And then we’ll figure out what this is, yeah?” Dean asked as Cas disappeared into the bedroom. The former angel gave no reply so Dean slunk down into the couch, huffing.

No way this could be a Djinn dream if Cas was acting like this. Okay – well, it still could be but Dean was still coming up with a bunch of theories. Like witches.

Witches were always doing dumb shit. He might not even put it past Rowena to have done something this alarming. Or maybe he ended up in the body of himself in some Alternate Reality, one where he could actually be worthy of Cas to begin with.

Dean sat on the couch a little longer, still in his underwear too. He had hardly batted an eye at the fact that he was dressed like this around Cas. Well, Cas hadn’t either, and all things considering of course Cas would hardly care. The guy had been walking around shirtless and Dean hadn’t minded looking at his toned muscles or –

Okay, getting very fast away from those thoughts. On the other hand they were married...

“Cas?” Dean called out again when the other man still hadn’t come out of the bedroom. Dean got off the couch immediately and went to the room to find Cas back in bed and covering himself in blankets.

“Cas?” Dean asked again, circling the bed and sitting on the floor next to him. He’d wrapped himself like a cocoon, only his face showing. His miserable, upsetting expression back too. “Talk to me,” Dean said.

This only caused Cas to roll himself over, “I believe my plight is rather obvious, Dean.”

Dean stood up so he could bend over and see Cas’ face on the other side, “Dude, seriously, we’ll figure this out.”

“Stop calling me that,” Cas said, adjusting himself so he could cover his face too.

“Stop calling you what? Dude?”

“And man, and pal, and buddy, and whatever other stupid words you use that insinuate nothing more than a platonic relationship,” he heard Cas’ muffle from under the blanket. There was annoyance in his voice.

Dean was pretty much leaning against Castiel now, “Uh yeah, sure… uh…” He almost said ‘sure man’ but obviously that would have been stupid. He also didn’t want to point out that the last thing he remembered was that Cas and him didn’t have a relationship that was romantic or sexual in nature.

Cas suddenly sat up, and Dean quickly threw himself off so he wasn’t leaning against him. “Do you love me?”

((Me @ me: HEY DUDE WTF))

#my post #my fanfic #destiel #deancas #long post #oof

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i-miss-balthazar · 5 years ago

Text

Black and White and Shades of Grey

Warnings: they talk about sex?

Rating: Teen

Pairing: Midam

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Adam lay with his head on Michael’s chest as the archangel ran his fingers through his human’s hair slowly, a sated silence between them. There were no words between them because none were needed, both just basking in the comfort shared between them. Michael’s wings were visible, the soft white and pale blue feathers caressing Adam like a second embrace. They’d been like this for a long time, tangled together in the still of the morning, both awake yet neither speaking or moving to get out of bed. It must’ve been hours before Michael finally broke the peace.

“We promised we’d go to the bunker today.” He reminded softly, leaning down to kiss Adam’s head. Adam sighed.

“We did, didn’t we? Alright…” Adam murmured. “I suppose we should get up then.” Michael stooped down, capturing Adam’s lips this time.

‘I don’t want to.’ Michael’s voice rang within his head.

‘I know - me neither. I like mornings like this.’ Adam agreed.

‘I enjoy the peace, and your company… being comfortable, and knowing that we’re safe…’ Adam gently cupped Michael’s face as he kissed him. The gentle touch was a simple, silent reassurance. They were out. And they were safe.

~|~

Seeing Sam and Dean was still awkward. It was a neat mix of them trying to be friendly and also trying to show how apologetic they were. The latter was mostly Sam, and the only way they would really talk instead of uncomfortable small talk was when they’d all had a few glasses of alcohol.

The angels that lived at the bunker, they were the real reason Adam and Michael came. Castiel had a big heart, and with him came Jack; Michael’s nephew. Adam liked Jack. He was sweet, and had an innocence that reminded him of a time before the cage. Then of course there was Gabriel. Though his and Michael’s relationship was still strained at times, he had a quirky sense of humour and spunky personality that Adam rather enjoyed.

“Adam!” Gabriel whistled, plunking down one the chair next to him. “Good to see you again, kiddo.” He hummed. Adam gave a smile, sipping the dark liquor Dean had poured him.

“You too, Gabriel.” He responded.

“How are things with Michael?” Gabriel wiggled his eyebrows. Adam chuckled softly, a fond smile befalling his lips.

“Things are good. It’s so… peaceful.” Adam sighed. “I really love him.” He added much quieter, into his tumbler. Gabriel’s grin told him that the statement didn’t go unheard. The youngest archangel leaned over, his elbows on the arm of Adam’s chair, resting his chin in his palms. There was a mischievous glint behind his eyes, the devilish smirk on his face inspired no confidence.

“So…” The word was drawn out, and Adam leaned back, sighing. “Have you and Michael done the dirty yet?” Gabriel asked, his voice low. Adam blushed, his eyes darting around for his brothers, but Dean had gone to the kitchen to make snacks and Sam was far enough away in conversation with Cas and Michael he couldn’t hear their chatter.

“No… is that a bad thing?” Adam responded. Why was he even entertaining this? He decided to blame the liquor. Gabriel simply shook his head.

“Everyone does it at their own time. You and Mikey have been together a long time, but you’ve only been in separate bodies for so long… is he just too nervous? He’s been so focused on being ‘the good soldier’ I don’t think he’s ever had sex before…” Gabriel hummed thoughtfully.

“Michael’s a virgin?” Adam blinked in shock. One of the oldest beings in the universe still had his v-card. It was almost funny.

“I think so, anyways.” Gabriel shrugged. Adam nodded slowly, letting his mind drift.

No, it wasn’t Michael’s fault. There had been times when they were making out, and Michael’s hands had begun to wander over his body. But Adam hesitated, and so Michael stopped. There weren’t words, he just stopped, pulling Adam closer and focusing purely on kissing him. It wasn’t like Adam was a virgin. In highschool he had gotten around. His girlfriend had wanted it, and he liked her. He liked feeling loved. Yet the whole time he’d been completely in his head, less enjoying the moment and more wondering if he was doing it wrong. When his friends talked about it, they made it sound like the greatest experience ever, but when Adam did… it was more just something to do. It felt good, sure, but he just… didn’t care for it. His partners wanted it though. It kept them happy, so… what was the harm? Michael was different though. Whenever Michael sensed the hesitation he stopped. Michael could hear his thoughts, and the nerves that haunted him. He didn’t press. He just accepted it. Part of Adam still felt guilty though. Why couldn’t he just be like everyone else and give his boyfriend the pleasure he more than deserved?

“Hellooooo? Earth to Adam?” Gabriel waved a hand in front of his face, yanking Adam from his thoughts. Adam felt his cheeks heat up.

“I dunno. I guess it’s just… not that important…?” Adam really did mean to sound more sure of himself, but it came out a question, and that didn’t slip past Gabriel.

“Come on, Milligan, talk to me!” He urged. If Adam was thinking about it, he probably could’ve made a snappy comment about Gabriel being way too into his brother’s sex life, but a little advice couldn’t hurt, could it?

“It’s weird, Gabriel.” Adam sighed. “I’m just… I’m not sure. Sex has never really meant a lot to me. Everyone says it’s so amazing, but I just… I don’t care for it.”

“Wait, Adam, are you a virgin too?” Gabriel blinked.

“Nonono, I’ve had sex… I just…” Adam sighed. “It’s just not a big deal to me. When I do, I kinda feel like I have to dramatize how much I enjoy it for my partner, and I don’t enjoy it as much as I think I’m supposed to. Everyone talks it up so much but I just… I don’t get it.” He sighed once more. “And I feel bad! Michael knows me well enough to know when I’m not totally into doing something, so he just stops. But it’s not just about me, I feel like I should be doing something to pleasure him, I just… it’s confusing, Gabriel.” Adam stared accusingly at his glass of liquor, feeling guilty for opening his mouth.

“Have you ever heard of asexuality?” Gabriel inquired thoughtfully.

“That’s when people hate having sex and never do it at all, right?” Adam asked.

“Well kind of. It depends on the person. Some asexuals are repulsed by sex, but like most things, asexuality exists on a spectrum.” Gabriel explained.

“Okay. But I can’t be asexual. I still like… think about having sex with people. And I guess I get aroused sometimes.” Adam sighed dejectedly.

“Maybe grey-ace then.” Gabriel provided. Adam stared blankly. “Nothing is black and white. Because you do feel a bit of sexual attraction, so you don’t exactly classify yourself asexual… but you’re not allosexual either… maybe you’re grey-ace.” Gabriel shrugged. That made Adam really think. He didn’t entirely have his head wrapped around it, but something about it did feel right.

“...thank you, Gabriel.” Adam offered him a warm smile. Gabriel smiled back charmingly.

“No prob, kiddo. Anytime you need help with that stuff, I’m your guy. I’m like a walking gay encyclopedia.” He laughed, and Adam laughed too. Gabriel held out his drink. “To you, my friend. And self discovery.” He toasted. Adam chuckled, clinking their glasses together.

“Sure. I’ll drink to that.”

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Representation Week Tag List:

@misha-moose-dean-burger-lover @specialagentrin @peanutbutterandgrapejelly @all-or-nothing-baby @petrichoravellichor @i-know-like-four-things @is-jus-me @fantastikitty7 @hexlorde

Author Note: I know it isn’t half as good as Sheya’s asexuality story, but here’s a hefty dose of self projection, my friends! Thank you all for reading my Representation Week stories, this is the last one I’ve got. You’ve all been so kind and supporting with the comments and I love you all <3

#Representation Week #spn fic #midam #asexual adam #grey ace #asexual adam milligan #grey ace adam milligan #gabriel the gay encyclopedia #he strikes again #gabe and adam have a lovely friendship #anyhow #thank you all so much #maddisons drabbles

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somedayonbroadway · 5 years ago

Note

As much as I would like all three, if my striking desire for them has not been made clear already, but I would quite like to see the car crash, if I had to pick one. -Lu

Okay, so it’s been a while, but I’m so glad to be getting back to these asks that I got probably close to two months ago

So, here we go!

Race had just turned fifteen. He lived at home with his father, both of his older brothers moved at by this point and are going to college. He’s on his own with his father who he loves and who loves him.

But sometimes his father gets a little angry. It’s normal. He’s just got a temper. It’s best not to try and confront him about it. After all, his brothers were just fine.

Race is a dancer. And he’s gay. Two things his father isn’t particularly fond of. There was a reason Jack was favored more in their father’s eyes. Since Race is the most flamboyant and since Crutchie can’t play sports or anything with his bad leg (spina bafida. He can still walk sometimes but other times he’s gotta use a crutch or even a wheelchair to get around). It wasn’t a big deal to their dad, because Jack would mostly be taking care of Charlie when he couldn’t walk.

But Jack was always their dad’s favorite, even if he took a lot of his angry fits for his brothers. They all still loved their dad.

Now, Race is on his own, having his brothers visiting all the time. He can never wait for his brothers to visit.

He starts a relationship with a boy that’s about four years older than him. This boy is everything Race could ever ask for. He’s sweet, he’s funny, he’s smart.

Needless to say, his brothers don’t approve of the age difference, but Race loves him.

He has a temper. But that’s normal. Everyone has a temper.

Race has a decent life. He’s got a best friend, he’s a great dancer, he’s getting a lot of attention from potential colleges and he’s doing great in school all together.

But one day, his father was in one of his moods. Race said something he shouldn’t have. His father started yelling. He took a swing. So Race ran to his boyfriend. He begged him for a ride to see his brothers. His oldest brother in particular. He really missed Jack.

The boyfriend agreed.

On the way, the boyfriend asks Race what’s wrong, genuinely concerned for his boo before Race gets a little defensive, not really wanting to dive into it. But the boyfriend persists and then suggests that he help Race relieve some tension. But Race says no. That he wants to see his brother.

That’s when the boyfriend flips out.

He gets mad, trying to turn Race on in a sort of fit of rage. He grabs at Race’s thigh, tries to pull Race in for a kiss.

But someone rams into them while they’re still on the road.

The car hits Race’s side of the car immediately. The car topples over, rolling half a block. Race remembered a lot of pain. Mostly in his arm.

He remembered screaming.

He remembered his boyfriend trying to get out of the car, trying to get away for some reason. Some reason Race couldn’t remember. But an ambulance arrived. And he passed out.

Race wakes up in a hospital. Everything hurts. A lot. He hisses and groans and tries to move, not able to remember where he was or why he was so hurt. Not until someone shushes him and a hand runs through his hair.

He opens his eyes and he sees Jack, sitting over him, trying to be as gentle and as calm as possible. He keeps running hands through Race’s hair, telling him it’s all gonna be okay. When Race tries to ask what happened, Jack just tells him to rest and not worry about it.

That’s when Race knows something’s wrong.

He tries to reach up to hold Jack’s hand. That’s when he looks over.

His arm’s gone at the elbow. His right arm.

He freezes. Jack tries to tell him it’ll be okay, that he’s alive and that’s all that should matter for now.

But Race breaks. He freaks out. Even though his whole body hurts, he tries to get up, to wake himself up. He doesn’t believe it’s real. Jack has to hold him down and call for a nurse.

They sedate him. He passes out again.

The next time he wakes up, Jack looks even more exhausted. He’s sitting right next to him, drinking some coffee. Race is way too weak this time to hardly even get his attention. But Jack eventually looks up.

That’s when Race notes that he’s crying.

He asks where Dad is. Jack shakes his head and moves to sit at Race’s side. Jack tells him that Charlie’s coming to visit tomorrow.

That’s when Jack tells Race that he’d been out for a little over a week.

The doctors come in to tell Race the damage. All Race can focus on is his arm.

His bone shattered during the crash. There was no saving it.

Charlie comes the next day, telling Race it would all be okay, that they’d figure it out. That there were options for him and it wasn’t over.

Race would start crying again. But Crutchie would calm him down enough to tell him what mattered was that he was alive. According to the doctors, they were all shocked he’d lived through such a traumatic crash. He’d tell Race how much he and Jack loved him and that they would take care of him, no matter what.

Race would ask where Dad was. Charlie would look over to Jack for help.

Jack would sigh. He’d tell Race to relax. He’d tell Race that the first night, after he’d been brought to the hospital, the hospital called their Dad. And their dad went to see him. But the second they’d told him that they had to amputate his arm, their father tried to tell them they couldn’t.

The doctor insisted, telling the man that they had to, that it was the only logical option and that the doctor would rather be sued than let that little boy have to suffer through the consequences of keeping an arm that would bring him nothing but pain.

Their father fought and argued, but eventually gave up after the doctor said if they didn’t act quick, the boy would suffer more trauma.

Eventually the man gave in.

But after seeing Race after the surgery, he ran, calling Jack and telling him to get to the hospital, claiming he couldn’t handle it.

Race would panic. He start crying again.

He’d ask if he was coming back or if his father had just flat out abandoned him.

Eventually, when Race was ready, he’d ask about his boyfriend. Crutchie would get pissed and unable to talk about it and Jack would hardly be better. He’d say that the f***er was injured but not nearly to the extent that Race was. He’d tell Race that the guy got stitched up, got drugged up and then dipped, not even paying him a visit.

That would just make Race all the more upset. He’d tell Jack he had to get out of there. He’d try to get up again. But Jack would hold him down and Crutchie would do his best to calm him down

Their dad wouldn’t call. He wouldn’t pick up his phone. Not for months. So, when Race was strong enough, Jack would take him to his apartment. He’d get Race settled on his bed, telling him he’d take the couch while they figured out what to do next.

David, Jack’s roommate, would be a godsend. He’d make Race dinner and hang with him on his first night staying with them. And he’d immediately begin to research some of the things they could do, not to mention he’s a robotics major.

Some colleges would lose interest in Race with his new disability. But he’d want to keep dancing.

It would be different. It would be harder. He’d only think about quitting once. And Crutchie would be there to tell him no.

He’d figure it out, how his balance would change and how different tricks were motified. And he’d be so nervous to perform again.

But Jack and Charlie would be right there in the front row cheering him on.

It would be about six months later when Davey came to him with something. He’d say it was a work in progress and that if Race hated it, he was allowed to smash it to bits.

It’s an arm. A prosthetic arm that Race would potentially be able to use like a regular arm.

He bursts out crying right then and there and hugs David so hard.

Their dad would call them a couple months after that, asking for forgiveness, telling Race that he knew it wasn’t his fault and that he loved him and that he could take him home and everything would be okay.

But Jack would be the one to tell him no. He’d tell him that it was too late. That he was taking Race in and that Race would be okay with him and then he’d hang up.

Jack would adopt Race.

And they’d be okay.

Alright! Hope you liked it, Lu! Thanks for reading everyone!

#newsies #newsies live #newsies musical #racetrack higgins #jack kelly #crutchie morris #car crash #david jacobs #prosthetic #amputation #tw mild abuse #tw abuse #newsies fanfiction #tw child abandonment #tw child abuse #anonymous #anon #anon response #Lu

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missjackil · 6 years ago

Text

SPN Did Something Pretty Amazing

One thing I have always liked about Supenatural, is that theyre willing to try things no other shows have done. Most of the time it works, sometimes it doesnt, but theyre not affraid to think outside the box. Things like having a cross-over with Scooby Doo, or episodes like The French Mistake, or Fan Fiction, are great, though theyre doable only because of the premise of the show. In the supernatural world, nothing is impossible. The heros die and come back a lot, old characters come back in various ways, in dreams, time travel, or even as the same character, and this is ok because again, in the supernatural world nothing is impossible. However, this newest amazing thing, at its core, didnt come to pass because of supenatural influence, but because of human actions, and viewer acceptance. Two brothers and their Angel buddy, adopt an adult orphan son. Think about that. What show has ever done such a thing? None. In similar cases, like 3 Men and a Baby, Full House, Two and a half Men, there is one defined Father, and then the other men are uncles or support for the one father. But not on SPN, all 3 have been defined as this kid’s father, even though none of them are biologically his father. Even before Luficer died, we saw this beginning. And even stranger still, there were always strong efforts to keep Jack away from his biological father, which is also not a common practice. When dealing with an older child, theres always a “let them chose” clause. But thats never really been the case on SPN, it was always “Keep Lucifer away from this kid” and justifiably so, I might add, but its still strange for TV isnt it? Yet, somehow this all worked. Now, this isnt a debate on who deserves to be Jacks main father, which would obviously be Sam but to just talk about how the show managed to make this happen and be completely accepted by the viewers.

I work with several SPN fans, though Im the only one who wouldnt really be considered a casual viewer, meaning Im the only obssessed one LOL but the others arent involved in SPN SM on tumblr or twitter, they dont go to conventions and none of them are into shipping. (thats right, it seems most casual viewers dont ship the characters) yet all of them think its cool that Sam, Dean and Cas are Jack’s fathers, none of them think its creepy, incestuous, or gay. One did joke that it sounded like the synopsis of a very bad porno, (2 brothers, and their buddy take in a young adult orphan as their own) but then said that its a very cool concept. What I think made it work, is everything thats gone down in the last 13 years. I dont care if youre a wincest shipper or not, but theres no closer relationship on the show than Sam and Dean. We know now they are “stuck” with each other, they wont be finding a significant other and building their own family, and even in the end, they’ll be together. Be it on Earth, in Heaven, Hell or the Empty. Also, they have no closer companion than Cas. Whether or not you like the character, canonically, Cas is their best friend that they love as a brother. Since the show revolves around family dynamics, good ones and bad ones, we’ve seen Sam and Dean in every position. As brothers, sons, cousins, friends, and even as husbands breifly to Lisa and Amelia. we never really got to see them as fathers. The show could have remedied this by having one of their ex girlfriends show up with a kid “Surprize!!” but Im glad they didnt. This would automatically put one brother in the position of Dad, and the other as Uncle and Cas is just that buddy in the trench coat. The way it was done, put all 3 men in a fatherly position that developed over different time lines and circumstances. Im going to try to break this down in an unbias manner. We can all feel free to disagree with the outcome, but its how the show itself unfolded this little highly unorthodox family. Cas was the one appointed to be Jack’s father. Kelly gave this duty to him when she decided to allow herself to die to let her son be born, and Cas accepted. So it looked as though Cas would be this boy’s father, but as it was, Cas was dead when Jack was born. Sam came to the plate next. His relationship developed organically with Jack. Some may not have seen it coming, but Sam was determined long before Jack was born, to NOT kill him, but to try to let him be born without the worry that he would be evil. When it was apparent they couldnt take his grace and make him human, Sam knew it didnt mean Jack HAD to be evil. Sam took the role as mentor right away. Caring for Jack and having genuine compassion for him. We were given the hint Sam felt fatherly when they showed him reading a parenting book. (my god that was the cutest thing) So the writers flipped the script and gave Sam a head start in the father field. Also, with Sam being first, it added this layer of beauty, because Sam fell in paternal love with the son of his torturer. He wasnt enlisted, or pushed, it just happened, and thats beautiful. Dean came last, and as a story teller, I can see why they chose this route. It had been established since S1 that Dean is good with kids and naturally paternal. To have him be the first “father” would leave Cas and Sam on unlevel ground through lack of experience. For Dean to follow up second from Cas, would make it too shippy, and Sam would probably never make it out from under the “uncle” title. and wouldnt we always wonder if Sam held a little resentment inside? Jack being the son of Lucifer for starters, and Dean taking him in as a son? Over the seasons, Sam has made it very clear, he never wants to be #2 in Dean’s eyes, and this could bring around some bad brother drama. Dean starts off hating Jack. Indeed he was way too nasty to him in the beginning. Not even gonna debate that, but for Sam, Dean gives the kid a shot. He discovers that yes, Jack is a good kid and now Deans natural paternal side clicks on. And keep in mind he didnt try to step onSam and take over. Yes they showed Dean and Jack bonding more than they did Sam, but he didnt take over. He made sure taking Jack out was ok with Sam, so did Cas. They both respected that Sam has been Jacks primary care giver since day 1, and Sam isnt selfish or possessive (over anyone/anything else besides Dean) so Sam is happy to share Jack so he can have as much positive influence as he can. So I give TPTB credit for coming up with this formula, my only complaint being that they didnt need to make Dean as hateful as he was, they could have just made him hessitant and standoffish at first and that would have been enough but it is what it is, and that part is over thank Chuck. Now, most of us knew the “3 dads” thing was coming because the cast talked about it a lot, but those of us who dont follow the cons and interviews, still were pleasently surprised that this came about. I havent heard anyone complain that its creepy, even though if you tell someone whos never seen the show “On my show, the 2 brothers and their friend adopted an 18 yr old kid” they’d look at you funny. We complain about the writers all the time because they do screw up a lot, but I like to give them credit when I can. This is one of those situations. They made something that seems creepy on the outside, not only acceptable, but wonderful, simply by how it was written. I feel the same way about how they handled the return of Mary. It didnt pan out as well as it could have, and thats really a whole other meta, but Im glad they didnt take an easy route with her making her a zombie, or Super Mom and put her in a really human position of a mother meeting her adult sons for the first time, but Ill save that for another post :)

#.#Sam Winchester #dean winchester #castiel #jack kline #my meta #jacks 3 dads

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destielfluffnstuff · 7 years ago

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[Destiel Fic] “Of Future Plans & Paradoxes”

[A smut free version of this story is available here.]

Summary:

Gabriel is sick of Dean avoiding his feelings, so he decides to create a little paradox, sending Dean forward in time to meet his future self.

Turns out the future Dean is in a very loving relationship with Castiel. And Gabriel won’t let Dean go home until he admits he’s in love with Castiel, too.

In which Dean is forced to literally face his love for Cas.

Categories: Light angst to sweet fluff, Canon universe Characters: Dean Winchester/Castiel, Sam Winchester, Gabriel (briefly) Words: 12,418 Rating: Explicit Tags: Dean comes to terms with being bisexual, is forced to watch his future self and Cas be adorable together, jealous!Dean, sweet!Cas, time travel, happy ending, smutty ending, bottom!Dean, top!Cas, set in the near future of season 13, spoiler free for future episodes (all future things are my ideas, not spoilers)

My Notes: So many thanks to @charliedeewnchstr-st and @broadwayloverforever for beta reading! I truly appreciate it. This story is lovingly based on this post by @i-think-i-m-adorable (but it’s not an apocalypse timeline story, it starts in season 13).

—————

Dean was feeling anxious, and he was working really hard to not think about why.

For once things were relatively okay. Castiel was finally back at the bunker, which meant that Dean didn’t have to constantly stress out about his safety. His mom and Jack were safe too, staying with Jody for a while so Jack could get to know some kids his own age.

Dean was really looking forward to hanging out with Cas, he already had a couple movies in mind that he wanted to make him watch. Cas was his best friend, Dean was just happier when he was around.

But somehow he was still feeling weird around Cas. If he was to be honest with himself, he would admit that he knew why, but the real reason was buried far too deep.

So Dean continued to shove it down, going about business as usual.

The three of them were just finishing up dinner. Dean had insisted on making burgers to celebrate Castiel’s return. Sam had insisted on a side salad as well.

“It’s great to have you back, Cas,” Sam said, clapping his hand on the angel’s shoulder as he got up from the table. “I’m gonna head to bed now though, it’s late. Goodnight guys.”

Dean said goodnight to his brother before turning back to Cas. “I put fresh sheets on your bed,” he said with a smile. “I mean, I know you don’t sleep, but I figured that you still might want to sit up in bed or something. I don’t know. I figured fresh sheets would be nice.”

Great, he was rambling.

Castiel smiled fondly. “It is nice, Dean, thank you.” He held Dean’s gaze for a long moment, appearing to be simply enjoying his company.

Dean cleared his throat, feeling a sudden need to escape. “Okay, well you know where it is, so I guess I’m going to bed too.” He stood up from the table, gripping Castiel’s shoulder and gently squeezing, his fingers lingering a moment longer than they should have. “It’s good to have you home, Cas.”

“It’s good to be here,” Castiel said, looking up at Dean with an unreadable expression.

Dean cleared his throat again. “Okay, goodnight.”

He finally escaped to the privacy of his bedroom, stripping down to a t-shirt and briefs before getting into bed. As he lay awake he couldn’t help worrying about Cas. He’d been so different around Dean since he came back from the Empty, and in the light of day Dean would swear he didn’t know why.

But alone at night, Dean would admit to himself that he knew. He knew that everything had changed between them when Castiel had admitted he loved him, the night he’d nearly died at the hands of Ramiel and that damn staff.

And Dean hadn’t had the courage to admit he felt the same. Not then, and not now. And at the rate he was going, probably not ever.

—————

Dean was woken by his bed shifting under someone else’s weight, and he was awake and leveling his gun at the intruder before his mind could process what he was seeing.

Gabriel. Standing on the foot of his bed, arms folded and grinning down at him. “Hey Dean-o, long time, no see.”

Dean glared, not lowering his gun. “Gabriel is dead. What are you?”

“I was dead,” Gabriel agreed. “Until my baby brother picked a fight with an ancient cosmic asshole. All the ruckus woke me up and I convinced him he needed to send me back too, or I would start shouting and wake more angels.” He grinned at Dean. “He didn’t want that, so here I am.”

Dean slowly lowered his gun. They hadn’t told anyone about Castiel’s experience in the Empty, so he had to admit this had to be the real Gabriel. Which didn’t entirely reassure him. “How did you get into the bunker? What do you want?”

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “Benefit of dying before all that drama upstairs, I still have my wings. And this place obviously isn’t warded against angels.” He cocked an eyebrow at Dean, looking suddenly cross. “As for what I want, well, can you imagine how irritating it is to come back eight years later, only to discover you two chuckle heads are still beating around the gay bush?”

Dean glared. “What are you talking about?”

“You and Cassy, dumb-dumb.” Gabriel rolled his eyes. “Clearly you need an intervention. And I’m bored, so I’ll take any excuse to fuck with time and space.” He bent over, bringing his face a little closer to Dean’s. “So let’s see if this helps you get that stick out of your ass.”

With that Gabriel snapped his fingers and vanished.

Dean’s hand clutched at the blanket, expecting he would have been zapped somewhere, but he was surprised to realize he was still in his bed. He was still wearing his grey t-shirt and black briefs. He looked down at his empty hand, startled when he realized his gun was gone, but when he turned to look for it he found it back where it belonged in the holster hidden between his bed and the bedside table.

Dean looked around his room in confusion, and that’s when he finally realized what was wrong. It was his room, but it was different. The first thing he noticed was a framed picture of him and Cas on his desk. They were grinning at the camera, arms slung around each other.

Dean had no memory of taking that picture.

There was also an entire book shelf on a wall that used to be empty, and Dean slowly rose from the bed to look at it. It was covered in books and random artifacts, some of which Dean recognized and some that he didn’t.

He definitely didn’t put that there.

“Who are you?”

He spun around at the sound of the familiar voice, and was startled to find Castiel standing in the doorway, wearing nothing but a towel around his waist. His hair was wet too, as if he’d just come from the shower. Since when did Cas shower?

“Cas? What the hell is going on?” Dean asked, taking a step toward him.

Castiel’s eyes grew wide, and he seemed to look through Dean’s chest before he looked him in the eye again. “Dean. For a moment I thought you must be an imposter, but I see now that it’s you. You just don’t belong here.”

Dean was getting irritated. “What the hell does that—” He cut himself off when he heard another voice in the hall.

The voice sounded exactly like Dean’s. “Cas? Who are you talking—”

Dean stared in shock as he watched another version of himself step up behind Castiel. Dean might have thought he was looking in a mirror, if the other Dean wasn’t also fresh from the showers and wrapped in a towel.

Dean instantly went to high alert, his mind immediately assuming this other version of himself was some kind of monster. He dove backwards for the gun, but Castiel seemed to anticipate his reaction, and he roughly shoulder checked him face first into the wall. The angel easily pinned him there.

“He is not a monster,” Castiel said, clearly knowing what Dean was thinking. “He is just a different version of you.”

The other Dean was grumbling behind Cas. “Great. He’s the real deal, yeah?”

“He is,” Castiel said. “His soul matches yours.”

“What the fuck is going on?” Dean demanded, trying to shrug off Castiel.

Cas finally let Dean go, and he stepped back so Dean could turn around. Dean was surprised that he still had the towel securely around his waist, and he tried not to look at the other man’s well defined chest.

“We knew this would happen eventually.” The other Dean glared at him as he pulled a pair of jeans out of a dresser and threw them at him. “Put those on and wait for us in the war room. We need to get dressed.”

Dean caught the pants just before he was unceremoniously shoved out of his own room, left facing the door closing in his face.

“What the hell.”

—————

With his pants on, Dean made his way out of the war room. He looked around warily, still trying to figure out exactly where or when he was. Another alternate universe perhaps?

Things seemed mostly the same, with only a few changes. The laptop sitting on the table was new. And he noticed a collection of pictures on the wall.

He walked over closer to check them out. They were several dozen four by six prints that had been artfully arranged in a collage. There were pictures of him and Cas, his mom and Sam. Other people were there too, including Jack, Claire, and Jody. There were also a couple people Dean didn’t recognize, as well as a few older pictures of people they’d lost.

Dean noticed there were several pictures where Dean had an arm around Cas or the other way around. His eyebrows rose when he found one picture of Dean pressing a kiss to the angel’s cheek, Castiel grinning widely.

It had definitely seemed like his future self and Cas had been showering together, and they’d both stayed in Dean’s room to get dressed.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he realized he was in some crazy alternaturnate universe where he and Cas were a… thing.

“Mom made that.”

Dean turned around to end up face to face with himself again. The other Dean was standing on the other side of the war room table, Castiel at his side. And the angel was wearing Dean’s favorite AC/DC shirt.

Dean frowned. “You’re wearing my clothes,” he said, looking at Castiel.

The other Dean glared at him. “No, he’s wearing my clothes,” he corrected. He glanced over at Castiel, and a smile cracked his face. “And yeah, he does that. I like it.”

Dean cleared his throat, gesturing between his other self and Castiel. “So, you two are…?”

“In a committed relationship, yes,” Castiel said.

The other Dean rolled his eyes, but cast a fond look toward Castiel. “Basically, yeah.” He turned back to Dean. “And it’s why you’re here.”

“What’s why I’m here?” Dean demanded.

The other Dean waved his hand between himself and Castiel, echoing the gestured Dean had just made. “This. Us. It’s the whole reason Gabriel sent you forward in time.”

Dean’s eyebrows shot up. “You know about that?”

The other Dean rolled his eyes. “Of course I know about it, dumbass. I’m you, you’re me. Everything that is happening to you, already happened to me.”

Dean thought about that. Time travel, not an alternate universe. That meant it was him in a relationship with Cas, how the fuck was that possible?

The other Dean was still talking. “Gabriel won’t send you back home until you get your shit together and admit you love Cas.”

Dean shook his head and put his hands up. “What? No. You must be mistaken, this has gotta be an alternate universe thing. I don’t love Cas.” He noticed the way Castiel frowned when he said that. “You know, as more than family.”

The other Dean growled and shook his head. “Yeah, you’re definitely from 2018, I was in some serious denial back then. Hate to break it to you, but you’re stuck here until you get over it.”

Dean ignored that last comment for the moment. “What year is it anyway?”

“2021,” Castiel said. “About three years into your future.”

“Dean? Why are you guys…” Sam stumbled up the stairs from the hall, hair a mess and still in his sleep clothes. He froze when he noticed both versions of his brother. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Time travel, Sammy,” the future version of Dean said, as if it were that simple.

Castiel decided to clarify. “A version of Dean from the past has been sent by Gabriel to visit us. He will be with us until he accepts he’s in love with the past version of myself.”

Sam gaped at them all for a moment. “I guess I’ll make up the guest room and go back to bed...” he muttered, turning around and stumbling out of the room.

Dean turned back to his other self. “Look, I just want to go home. If you’re me, then you should just be able to tell me what you did to convince Gabriel to send you back. We can jump right to the end.”

A look of realization flashed through the future Dean’s eyes, and his face darkened. “I can’t tell you that. The other Dean didn’t tell me, so I can’t tell you.”

Dean groaned. “Why not?”

“Because, if things don’t go the way they’re supposed to, then you don’t go home and get together with Cas,” the other Dean said, sounding angry. “And there’s not a chance in hell I’m doing anything to risk that! So settle in, you’re gonna be here a while,” he snapped.

“We’ll see about that,” Dean threatened. But he knew he was stuck for the moment, so he turned to leave the room. “Aw fuck it, I’m going to bed.” He suddenly stopped and turned back. “Wait, are Mom and Jack here?”

His other self shook his head. “Not right now. They’re okay, but that’s all I can tell you.”

Dean growled in frustration, shaking his head as he stomped down the hall. “Sam?”

Sam stepped out of Castiel’s room, brows furrowing as he looked at Dean. “Which one are you?”

Dean rolled his eyes. “The one from the past.”

Sam nodded, clearly still too tired to process that. “Well I put fresh sheets on the bed, so it’s all yours.”

“That room belongs to Cas,” Dean said.

Sam looked at Dean like he was an idiot. “Castiel shares your room,” he said, then frowned. “Er, uh, Dean’s room. Present Dean. Shit, I’m too tired for this.” He rubbed a hand over his eyes. “Look, just let me go back to bed, I’ll answer your questions in the morning, okay?”

Dean sighed. “Yeah, sure Sammy.”

Dean stepped into the room and closed the door behind him. He didn’t know what time of night it had been when Gabriel zapped him here, but he felt drained, and his head had barely hit the pillow when he was out.

—————

The next morning Dean got up and dressed, not sure what the day would bring. When he opened the bedroom door, he found a pile of clean clothes on the floor. He picked them up, realizing it was some of his own shirts and jeans, plus some items he didn’t recognize. But it all looked like something he would wear. He realized the other version of himself must have left them for him.

He put the clothes away before heading out to the kitchen, hoping someone was already up and coffee was brewing, because boy did he need it.

He heard voices as he approached, and he paused, not able to resist the temptation to eavesdrop. He could hear his own voice and Castiel’s.

“It does not bother me, Dean,” Castiel was saying. “He is you and you are him. I cannot separate my love from one or the other of you.”

“Yeah, well it bothers me!” the other Dean snapped. “I know how this ends, and I’m not okay with sharing!”

“You’re not sharing me, not really,” Castiel said. “It will be okay, Dean. We will complete the timeline and he will go back.”

Dean edged around the corner, and he was startled to see the other version of himself in Castiel’s arms. Dean had his face on Castiel’s shoulder, and Cas had his arms around his waist, one hand running gently up and down the other man’s back. Cas smiled and pressed a kiss to Dean’s forehead, murmuring soft words.

Dean stumbled back out of the doorway, his heart constricting painfully. He leaned back against the wall, confused why he was suddenly a little short of breath.

He’d just seen his most private dreams come to life. This other version of himself had everything he’d never been able to admit he wanted. Everything he knew he could never have. It was more than Dean was prepared to process, so he ran.

—————

Dean was hiding in the back of the library, sitting in one of two armchairs that had been tucked into the corner. He was flipping through a book of spells, trying to find something that might send him home.

“You’re not going to find anything in that book,” Sam said, appearing next to Dean with two cups of coffee in hand, handing one to him. “Dean, uh, the other Dean said I’d find you here.”

Dean glowered a little, but took the coffee, taking a sip. He’d never gotten up the nerve to go into the kitchen and get some. “Thanks.” He smiled a little at Sam, glad that at least his brother seemed the same.

Sam sat down on the chair next to Dean, and he leveled his patented I’m-worried-about-you stare. “So I imagine all this has been quite a shock for you.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “You think, Sammy?” He couldn’t quite look at his brother, so he focused on drinking his coffee.

“I’m not going to push you,” Sam said. “I know you’ll need to work this out on your own time.” He paused, considering his words carefully. “I just wanted to say, you—present you—have been happier in these last few years with Cas than I’ve ever seen you your whole life. So I know this is hard, but it’s worth it.”

Dean stared into his coffee, not at all ready to talk about any of it. “Thanks, Sammy.”

Sam gave him a pat on the knee, then left him to his thoughts.

—————

Dean spent the rest of the afternoon hiding in the library, pouring over one book after another. It didn’t do him any good, there wasn’t anything close to powerful enough to send him back. And to make things worse, his stomach was growling at him.

“I told Sammy to tell you the books won’t help.”

Dean looked up, glaring at himself. “He told me.”

The other Dean shrugged. “Well suit yourself. But you’re not getting out of here until you play along with what Gabriel wants. Which means spending time with me and Cas. Especially Cas.” He raised an eyebrow. “And I know you haven’t eaten all day, so you should come have dinner.”

Dean felt irrationally defensive. “How do you know I haven’t eaten?”

The other man just rolled his eyes. “I’ve literally been you, doing exactly what you’re doing right now. How many times do I have to explain that to you?”

“Yeah, yeah,” Dean grumbled, closing the book and dropping it on the table. His stomach rumbled again. “Okay fine, dinner.”

—————

Dean followed his future self into the kitchen, where they found Castiel at the stove, working on what looked like burgers. He was wearing another t-shirt and jeans combo that had clearly been stolen from the future Dean’s closet.

Dean went straight to the fridge and cracked open a beer, moving to park himself at the table. He was going to need more than a few beers to get through this dinner.

He was surprised to see the other Dean slip in next to Cas and start to help. The two of them moved like a well oiled machine, working together to finish assembling the burgers. They were chatting easily about their day, speaking vaguely about something they’d been researching. Whatever it was, clearly they didn’t think Dean should know about it.

Dean couldn’t help but watch all the little moments of affection that passed between the two of them. A brush of a hand on the small of the back, the arm, the neck. Little smiles and words of affection. It wasn’t over the top, but it was far more than Dean expected from any version of himself.

Sam wandered into the room and sat down next to Dean just as the burgers were being dished up. Cas brought their plates over and the four of them sat down together around the table.

Dean noticed that Sam’s presence didn’t change how Cas and his other self interacted. They sat close, shoulders pressed together. Dean was surprised to see they didn’t care about what Sam saw, and equally as surprised at how Sam ignored it all, as if it were commonplace.

They started to eat in an awkward silence, and Dean was determined to keep to himself. But he couldn’t help but notice that Castiel was eating too, and he seemed to be really enjoying his burger.

Dean cleared his throat, his curiosity getting the better of him. “So uh, you eat food now Cas?”

Cas looked up at him. “Yes. After Dean and I got together, I chose to partially drain my grace. But I still retain some of it, enough to heal a serious wound in an emergency, although it does drain me significantly now.”

Dean frowned. He didn’t like the idea of Cas giving up anything for him. “Why the hell would you do that?”

“I desired a more human existence.” Cas glanced at his Dean. “So that I could more properly enjoy human pleasures and emotions. It particularly makes sex more enjoyable.”

Sam groaned and both Deans shifted in their seats, clearly embarrassed.

“What did you do with your grace?” Dean asked.

Dean’s future self reached inside the front of his shirt and pulled out a small vial on a chain around his neck. It glowed a soft blue. “He asked me to keep it safe for him,” he said, voice full of fond affection.

Dean was floored. He liked to think Cas trusted him, but holding his grace was several levels higher than he deserved. He glared at his other self. “You’d sure as hell better keep that safe.”

“I protect it with my life,” the other man said, entirely serious. He reached out and took Castiel’s hand in his, squeezing it gently before he let go and returned to his dinner.

Things grew silent, and Dean ate his burger. It was fixed exactly the way he liked it, which shouldn’t surprise him given the circumstances. He glanced tentatively at Cas. “The burger is really good,” he said, hoping the other man would take the small olive branch.

Castiel smiled, a wide, happy grin. “Thank you, Dean.”

—————

Dean lay awake in bed that night, visions of himself and Castiel in his mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about how happy his other self had looked, and how comfortable he seemed to be. Dean never thought he could be so content, especially not in a relationship with another man.

Sure, in the privacy of his own mind he couldn’t deny that he had some feelings for Cas. Some very intense feelings. He just never thought he would act on them. Never thought they could amount to anything more than heartache.

Relationships always ended in pain for Dean. He’d written love out of his life a long time ago.

But here he was, face to face with solid evidence that he could indeed have everything he wanted.

But only if he could find the courage to ask for it.

—————

When Dean slowly made his way into the kitchen the next morning he was relieved and a little disappointed to find only Sam sitting at the table, drinking coffee.

His brother looked up at him. “Coffee is on,” he said, gesturing to the pot. “Dean and Cas… Um, our Dean and Cas had to go collect something. They’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Dean frowned a little, pouring himself a cup and moving to join Sam at the table. “You guys are working a case, aren’t you?”

Sam looked a little sheepish. “Yeah. Sorry, it’s just that Dean wasn’t told about the case when he was you, so we figure that means we can’t tell you either. Because, you know…”

Dean grumbled and ran a hand through his hair. “I hate paradoxes.”

Sam smiled. “Yeah, tell me about it.” He considered Dean for a moment. “So, how are you doing with… you know.”

Dean took a long sip of coffee, debating how he wanted to reply. “Okay, I guess. Considering.” He looked up at Sam, forcing himself to ask the question. “Tell me, didn’t it bother you? When I supposedly came back from this time hop and just suddenly announced my undying love? I can’t imagine you were just okay with it.” He felt his chest clench as he waited for Sam’s reply, and realized he was far more worried about what Sam thought than he was admitting to himself.

Sam just laughed, startling Dean. “Seriously? I was relieved!”

Dean frowned, confused. “What? Relieved?”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Dean, you’ve been crazy about Cas for years. I was just happy you finally acted on it. I was afraid you never would.”

“How the hell…?” Dean stared at his brother, trying to figure out how he’d known. “Am I really that transparent?”

Sam shrugged. “Probably not to anyone else, but I know you.” His eyes grew soft, that oh so familiar puppy dog look. “Dean, I know about Mark.”

Dean felt his stomach drop and he actually physically recoiled. He couldn’t speak for a moment, but he managed to find his words. “How the hell do you know about that?” he growled.

“I was fifteen Dean, I wasn’t blind,” Sam said. “I knew there was something going on.” He looked down at the table for a long moment before looking up at Dean again. “And I know it’s why you and Dad had that horrible fight. Right before we left town and you never saw him again.”

Dean was quiet for a long time, not able to look at Sam. This was a part of himself he’d never intended to share with his brother. Had never intended to unbox again. He’d put it away the day he’d walked away from Mark.

Dean had known from a young age that he was attracted to both men and women. And at nineteen he’d met a beautiful man just a few years older than him, when they’d spent a couple months in Boston. For a few weeks they’d had a great time together.

Until John had found out. He’d been furious. Had given Dean the choice to break up with Mark or never see Sammy again. Ever the loyal soldier, Dean had done as he was told. And after that he didn’t let himself look twice at a good looking man until long after his father was dead.

“Dean, I’m not like Dad,” Sam insisted. “I just want you to be happy. To be yourself.” He smiled tentatively. “You know I was actually really excited when you finally started to flirt with guys again.”

Dean snorted, feeling something inside him start to unwind. “A little flirting never hurt anyone…” He stared down at his coffee cup for a long time. “For years I swore that Mark was a one time thing, an experiment. That I had no interest in repeating.”

Sam considered him carefully. “Until you met Cas.”

Dean’s heart constricted, and he wasn’t sure if it was more pain or hope. “Until Cas,” he admitted.

They were quiet for a moment before Sam spoke again. “So, when you go home. I already know you’re bisexual, so you don’t need to like, come out to me or anything. Just make it official with Cas and tell me you finally asked him out.” He smiled reassuringly. “I’ll be thrilled, I promise.”

Dean let that label bounce around his mind for a minute. He’d rarely let himself consider it, but he knew it was the truth. Bisexual. He could handle that.

Maybe.

—————

Dean was reading a random lore book in the library when he heard the clang of the bunker door, announcing the return of Cas and his counterpart. He could hear them talking as they came down the stairs, and he watched as they came into view and paused at the bottom. They were discussing something quietly, from the looks of it Dean’s future self was irritated and Cas was trying to reassure him.

Dean couldn’t pull his gaze away from the two of them. He watched as Castiel cupped his Dean’s jaw in his hand while they spoke. Clearly they believed they were alone. They spoke quietly for a moment before Cas leaned in and pressed a lingering kiss to Dean’s lips.

Dean’s mouth went dry as he watched the two kiss. It was gentle at first, then it deepened and became more passionate. His stomach twisted with something that felt suspiciously like jealousy as Castiel’s arms went around the other Dean’s waist, pulling them closer together.

Just when things looked like they would get heated, Castiel pulled back, leaving one last chaste kiss. His hands lingered around the future Dean’s waist while they spoke quietly, and Dean could see his counterpart seemed to be appeased. Whatever had been bothering him seemed resolved.

They finally split apart, and Dean’s older self left for the kitchen, while Castiel turned and walked into the library. Dean straightened in his chair when he realized he was headed for him.

“Uh, hey Cas, what’s up?” Dean asked, trying to hide how horribly affected he was. He couldn’t help but lick his lips as he looked up at Castiel.

Cas smiled and took the seat at the table next to him. “I just wanted to check in and see how you’re doing.” His blue eyes reflected compassion. “My Dean was telling me how stressful this was for him, when he was you.”

Dean’s heart fluttered at the words ‘My Dean’ coming from Castiel’s lips. “Oh, well thanks. I’m doing okay, I guess. Better today.”

Castiel nodded. “I’m happy to hear that. You’re incredibly important to me Dean, I will do anything I can to make this easier for you.”

Dean wasn’t sure what to say, but he did think of a question that had been bothering him. “Yeah, um, so Cas. I know you love him, but did you really feel that way back then? You know, in 2018?”

A fond expression crossed Castiel’s face as he considered the question. “I believe I first started to fall in love with you the day I pulled your soul from hell,” he said. “I felt something then, somehow I knew we were bound.” His blue eyes searched Dean’s. “And I only grew more devoted to you as time passed. But it was after Metatron stole my grace, when I lived fully human for a time, that was when I realized the true extent of my love for you. So yes, your Cas loves you very much. I’ve lived a very long life, Dean Winchester, and loving you has been the best of it.”

Dean was speechless. His heart leapt, and he knew that everything Castiel said was true for him as well, that he’d been his since the day they met. But he wasn’t at all ready to voice any of that, so he ducked his head and cleared his throat. “Yeah, uh, you’re really important to me too, Cas.” He wished he could say more, but that was the best he could manage.

“My Dean will be working on dinner for a little while,” Cas said. “He suggested that you and I could take a walk. He says it’s important that we spend time together.”

Dean looked at Cas for a moment, before nodding. “Okay.”

—————

The two of them walked in silence for a while, simply wandering through the trees that hid the bunker. Dean had almost been expecting Cas to want to hold his hand, or something else corny, but it really was no different than when he’d spent time with his Cas back home. They were walking very close together, but Dean had to admit they’d always done that.

Dean had something weighing on his mind, and he decided perhaps Cas would be the right person to open up to. It was too personal for Sam and talking to his other self just irritated him. He glanced over at Castiel. “I’ve been wondering… The other Dean, how is he handling all this? Is he like… an out and proud bisexual now or some shit?”

Castiel smiled to himself. “Dean told me you’d ask these questions, and that I could answer freely.” He looked over at him. “It wasn’t easy at first. It took him a while to get comfortable with our relationship, and it took longer still for him to allow anyone but Sam to know about it.” He paused for a moment before continuing. “He will sometimes tell people he’s bisexual. But generally he dislikes being labeled.”

Dean nodded, considering that. He knew that whatever happened here in this time, it wouldn’t mean he’d magically go home and everything would be perfect. It would still take time and effort to get to where his future self is now. “Well I’m sorry you have to put up with all that crap,” he muttered.

“Dean.” Cas stopped, putting a hand on Dean’s arm to turn him, so he could look him in the face. “It is not crap and you are not a burden.”

Dean wanted to object, but then Castiel’s hand came to his face and gently cupped his jaw, just like he’d seen Cas do with his future self. He was startled by how easy and comfortable the touch felt, and he was reminded that for Castiel it was a perfectly natural thing to do.

Castiel pulled his hand back, looking chagrined. “I am sorry if I made you uncomfortable. It is difficult for me to separate you from my Dean.”

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable,” Dean admitted, reaching out to touch Castiel’s arm. “It, uh… It actually felt really nice.” He looked at his feet, feeling his cheeks heat. “You don’t need to seperate us. If you don’t want to.”

Dean wanted to know. He wanted to experience what this Dean had.

Castiel smiled, and his hand returned to Dean’s face, his thumb stroking gently over his cheek bone. “I would like that.”

Dean couldn’t help but lean into the touch. He could feel it draining some of the anxiety from him, and he wasn’t entirely convinced that Cas wasn’t using a little of his remaining grace.

Castiel stepped a little closer to Dean. “If you don’t want me to seperate the two of you…” He looked a little mischievous. “Then I would kiss you right now.”

Dean’s eyes went wide, and he was pretty sure his heart actually did skip a beat, although he’d definitely never admit it. When he finally spoke, his voice was a hoarse whisper. “I think I’d like that.”

Dean found himself holding his breath as Castiel leaned in and pressed a chaste kiss to his lips, before pulling away, smiling. Dean felt torn between relief and frustration. A big part of him wanted a real, proper kiss, but another part wasn’t sure he was ready for that. So he settled for just returning Castiel’s smile as they continued their walk.

—————

By the time they finally made it back to the bunker, things had become more relaxed between them. Dean was starting to realize things really weren’t all that different, he could pretty much treat this Cas the same as the Cas who was his best friend back home.

Only he could kiss this Cas, if he wanted to.

If he had the nerve.

Dean followed Cas down the stairs into the bunker, his mind wrapped up thinking about everything. He almost didn’t notice when Cas paused at the bottom, and Dean barely stopped before he ran into him. He found himself one step above Cas, looking down into bright blue eyes.

“You’ve gone quiet again,” Cas said, concerned.

Dean offered a small smile. “Just thinking about everything.” He tentatively reached out to put a hand on the other man’s shoulder. It wasn’t even something he wouldn’t have done back home, but somehow it felt different now. “Good thoughts, don’t worry.”

Castiel’s hands came to Dean’s hips and he craned his head to press a kiss to Dean’s jaw. “I’m pleased.”

Dean shivered, his whole body responding to Castiel’s simple touch. He found himself reaching out to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair, surprised to find it was incredibly soft. He’d always wondered what his hair felt like, it was almost surreal to be touching it now. He let his fingers linger, tangling and carding through. Castiel tipped his head up in response to the touch, and Dean found himself ducking to press another simple kiss to his lips. Then he cleared his throat and pulled back, surprised by his own actions.

Castiel didn’t seem phased. “I think it’s time for dinner,” he said. He seemed to see that Dean was feeling a little overwhelmed, and he gently pulled away. “Come.” His hand gently brushed Dean’s arm, beckoning him, before he let it drop and he turned to head for the kitchen.

Dean found himself following Cas without thinking, still a little stunned.

They found Sam on his laptop at the table and the older Dean at the stove. He looked tense and he was glaring at the mashed potatoes he was finishing.

Dean watched from the doorway as Castiel went to him, putting a hand on his back and kissing his cheek, murmuring something in his ear. He watched his other self relax a little under the touch and turn to offer Cas a small smile. He was surprised to see a hint of anxiety in his own eyes, and he realized with a start that the other Dean knew everything that had just happened between him and Cas. Of course he did, he’d been him once. And he clearly wasn’t entirely comfortable with the situation.

Dean decided to give them some space, and he grabbed a beer and went to sit next to Sam. His brother immediately turned the laptop so he couldn’t see what he was working on, and Dean rolled his eyes. “I’m not gonna peak, chill out Sammy.”

“Sorry.” Sam laughed, looking a little embarrassed. “Just gotta make sure, this whole time travel thing is freaky.”

“I know,” Dean said, taking a sip of his beer. “But I figure if Gabriel has the power to create this situation then he has the power to make sure we don’t fuck shit up too badly.” He looked over at his other self, now plating up dinner with Castiel. “Besides, he went through all this and came out the other end without changing the future, so we should be fine.”

“Or he already changed the future and we just don’t know because we’re living in it,” Sam said, shrugging his shoulders.

Dean groaned. “Okay, if I think about this too much I’ll lose my mind, let’s find something else to talk about. Tell me, has Winds Of Winter been published yet?”

Sam laughed. “You know I can’t tell you things like that.”

Dean grinned. “Yeah well, can’t blame a guy for trying.”

A plate of steak and mashed potatoes suddenly appeared in front of Dean, and he looked up at Castiel with a smile. “Thanks, Cas.”

Cas returned the smile and affectionately ran his hand over the back of Dean’s neck before he moved to sit next to the other Dean.

Dean blushed faintly and ducked his face to his food, not wanting to see Sam’s reaction to that little display of affection. He just dug into his meal instead.

Dinner passed relatively easily, and Dean was mostly silent while the other three tried to have a coded conversation about their case without saying things Dean shouldn’t know. Dean didn’t really care, he was busy wrapped up in his own thoughts. Thinking about Cas, and his Cas, and what life would be like when he went back. Assuming things progressed for him the same way they did for his future self.

He couldn’t help but watch the way the other Dean and Cas were interacting, and he found himself craving that level of easy intimacy. They sat so close together, and he was pretty sure Cas had a hand on Dean’s leg under the table. He suddenly realized he could recognize desire on his own face as the other Dean whispered something in Castiel’s ear. Dean watched in fascination as Cas pinked up faintly, grinning and nodding.

The elder Dean got up, clearing his plate. “Okay, goodnight folks. Come on, Cas.”

Cas got up as well. “We will see you in the morning,” he said, picking up his dishes. “Goodnight Dean, Sam.”

Dean watched as the two left the room together, Castiel’s hand on the small of Dean’s back.

“Word of advice,” Sam said, “don’t get too close to their bedroom door unless you’re prepared to hear some things.”

Dean’s face warmed at the suggestion. “Uh, thanks Sammy.”

Sam laughed lightly at Dean’s embarrassment, but his eyes were kind. “So, looks like you and Cas are getting to know each other a little better.”

Dean cleared his throat, wanting to change the subject. “Look Sammy, there’s something else I gotta know.” His heart was beating hard, a large part of him terrified to know the answer to his question. “How does Mom take it?”

It took Sam a moment to realize what Dean meant, and when he did his expression softened. “It was a little hard for her at first,” he said, then hurried to add, “but not for the reason you think. She was worried about you, and Cas too. She grew up in a time when it could be downright dangerous to be in a relationship with someone of the same gender. It took her some time to accept that things are a lot better now.” He grinned at Dean. “Not to mention you guys can obviously protect yourselves just fine.”

Dean relaxed a little, and the knot in his stomach started to unwind. “So she’s cool with it?”

“Yeah, she is,” Sam said. “She’s actually kind of embarrassingly supportive now,” he said with a laugh. “So you have that to look forward to.”

Dean chuckled. “Yeah, great.” He smiled at Sam, feeling much better. “Thank you. I’m going to hit the sack now, I’ll see you in the morning.”

Sam nodded. “Goodnight, Dean.”

Dean headed out of the kitchen and down the hall, only to slow as he approached his room, Dean’s room. Sam’s warning echoed in his mind, and he couldn’t resist pausing to listen. His face colored when he immediately heard soft sounds coming through the door.

He could hear the rumble of Castiel’s voice, although he couldn’t quite make out what he was saying. And he could hear himself, and he sounded absolutely wrecked. He couldn’t quite make out the words, but he knew from personal experience he was begging through his moans. Then he was finally able to catch what he was saying, and his breath caught as his other self begged, “harder Cas, please…”

Dean stumbled away from the door, shocked and incredibly aroused to realize what that meant. He hurried into the guest room and quickly shut the door behind him, leaning heavily against it, his hand going to his quickly swelling cock in his jeans.

He’d never bottomed for Mark, but god he’d wanted to. He just hadn’t had the courage to try it before things had blown up between them. He hadn’t yet let himself think too much about what sex was like between his other self and Cas, but now his mind was filling with images.

Dean couldn’t help it, he stripped off his jeans and moved to the bed, palming his cock through his briefs as he stretched out. It throbbed in his hand as he imagined Cas thrusting into him, using his incredible strength to pin him to the bed. God, it would feel so good to surrender to him.

He bit back a groan as he pulled his hard cock out, using pre-come to slick up his hand as he started to stroke himself. His other hand pushed lower, just barely teasing at the rim of his entrance.

Suddenly so much about the dynamic between Cas and his other self made sense. He’d seen how Dean leaned on Cas, and even with women Dean had always loved a partner who wasn’t afraid to take charge. There was just something about submitting that always got Dean excited.

Dean’s hand moved faster over his cock, his hips thrusting up to meet it, and he let out a soft moan as the pleasure built. He closed his eyes, envisioning himself being manhandled by Cas, strong hands gripping his hips as a thick cock fucked him hard.

Before Dean knew it he was coming, and he arched up on the bed as white hot pleasure exploded through him, before finally slumping down again.

He was left panting and stunned, mind still catching up to this new discovery. He really couldn’t deny what he wanted from Cas, not anymore.

It took Dean a long time to fall asleep that night.

—————

Dean had a hard time looking anyone in the eye the next morning as he walked into the kitchen. He was sure that if they looked too closely they’d be able to tell what he’d been thinking. Was still thinking, and couldn't get out of his mind. He made a beeline for the coffee pot, hoping the others would mistake his silence for under caffeination.

He could feel the other Dean’s eyes on him, and he knew that was the one person in the room he couldn’t hide from. The other man knew exactly what he’d been fantasizing about.

“Good morning, Dean,” Cas said, coming up next to him at the counter to refill his own coffee cup. “How did you sleep?” His hand came to rest on the small of Dean’s back for a moment.

Dean’s heart raced and he flushed. “Um, fine,” he said, hiding his face in his coffee, escaping to the kitchen table, sitting down next to Sam and across from his other self.

Future Dean rolled his eyes at him. “Calm down, princess,” he taunted, sounding irritable. “Nobody knows but me.” He leered at Dean.

Dean glared at him, face going red. “Shut up,” he snapped.

Sam shifted awkwardly, looking back and forth between the two of them in confusion.

Across the room, Cas spoke up. “I’m going to go complete the... preparations,” he said, taking his coffee as he left the room.

Dean frowned, suddenly distracted from his predicament. “Preparations?”

Sam nodded. “For the case.” He glanced over at the elder Dean. “We actually need to leave for a day or two to finish it up. Dean and I, Cas is going to stay here with you.”

Dean glared. “I don’t need a babysitter, he can go with you.”

The other Dean shook his head, clearly annoyed with him. “No he’s gotta stay. He stayed when I was you, so he stays now.” He leveled a look at Dean. “You have to prove yourself to Gabriel so he’ll let you go home.”

Sam cleared his throat and got up, taking his coffee with him. “I’m gonna go pack.” He quickly escaped the room, clearly wanting to get away from the conversation.

Both Deans watched Sam go before they turned back to each other. They were silent for a long moment before the elder Dean finally spoke, voice rough and frustrated. “Look, I’m not happy about this. Cas is mine, you have your own Cas at home.” He took a deep breath and sighed. “But this has to happen. You have to figure things out with Cas, so you can go back home and be with your Cas. Because if you don’t…”

Dean realized what his other self meant. That tonight was the night, it was how it had happened for him, so it was how it must happen for Dean. His heart raced at the implication.

“Cas is the best damn thing that has ever happened to me,” the elder Dean said, speaking with sincerity. He leaned over the table, staring Dean down. “If you don’t get this ball rolling with him then we never get together, and I won’t let that happen. So please, I need you to do this.” He was begging now, eyes shimmering with emotion. “Just trust him. He will make you happier than you ever knew was possible.”

Dean felt short of breath, but he nodded. “I… Yeah, I can do that.”

The other Dean seemed to relax a little. “Okay. Good.” He abruptly got up from the table. “We’ll be gone in an hour and we won’t be back until morning, I expect you to use the most of your time,” he said.

With that, he was gone, and Dean was left alone with his racing mind.

—————

Dean hid in the kitchen for a while, torn between desire and fear. He was pretty sure his other self meant that he was going to have to sleep with Cas, that seemed like the kind of proof Gabriel would want. And god did he want that to happen.

But he was also scared shitless.

He finally decided to venture out to the war room when he heard Sam and the other Dean getting ready to leave.

They each had a bag packed, the elder Dean was already halfway up the stairs, Cas watching him go. They’d clearly already said their goodbyes. Sam noticed him and crossed the room to meet him.

“Hey Dean,” Sam said. “Our Dean says you should be gone when we get back. So I guess this is goodbye.” He gave him a reassuring pat on the shoulder. “Everything will work out, you’ll see.”

Dean nodded, truly appreciating his brother in that moment. “Thanks, Sam. For everything.” He leaned in and gave his brother a big hug, giving him a firm smack on the back for good measure. “Bye Sammy. Don’t do anything dumb on your hunt.”

“Bye Dean.” Sam smiled as he pulled away, squeezing Dean’s shoulder before he turned to leave.

Dean looked up at his future self, standing at the top of the stairs. He offered him a nod, hoping he’d understand his gratitude. The other man simply returned his nod before turning and walking out of the bunker.

With the heavy clang of the door, they were gone. Dean looked over at Cas, his mouth going dry when he realized they were now alone.

With the whole weight of the paradox hanging over Dean’s head, expecting him to follow through. He felt his breath start to quicken.

“It’s okay, Dean,” Castiel said, noticing Dean’s distress and moving closer. “I know this is a lot, but nothing will happen if you don’t want it to.” He paused in front of Dean, but kept his hands to himself. “We’ll just spend the day together, like any other day.”

Dean felt himself relax a little, and he nodded. “Yeah, okay.” He considered the other man for a moment. “Why don’t you let me make you breakfast?”

Cas grinned. “I’d like that.”

Once back in the kitchen, Cas sat at the table while Dean got to work on bacon and french toast. They managed to slip back into easy conversation, both of them now a little more accustomed to avoiding topics time travel wouldn’t let them discuss.

When Dean finally had both their meals plated he brought them over to the table, sliding in to sit next to Cas. On a whim he leaned over and pressed a kiss to Castiel’s cheek, his own face going pink as he turned his attention back to his food.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas murmured, leaning a little more into his space.

As they ate Castiel’s hand moved to rest on Dean’s thigh under the table, just as he’d imagined it might, and it made his stomach flip with happiness.

After breakfast they decided to watch a movie together, settling on a rewatch of The Dark Knight. Dean screwed up his courage and sat down right next to Cas, pressing himself up against the other man’s side. He was wearing a soft t-shirt, so Dean could feel the warmth of skin on skin as their arms pressed together.

Castiel reached for his hand, taking it in his and interlacing their fingers. As the movie started he squeezed gently, slowly running his thumb across the back of Dean’s hand.

Dean couldn’t remember ever being this happy, just to sit with someone. It was such a simple, almost platonic thing, but it was amazing to just hold someone’s hand. Especially since that someone was Cas.

When the movie was over, Castiel declared that it was his turn to make lunch. So he sat and watched as Cas whipped up Dean’s favorite burger, just for him. They chatted easily about the movie, their conversation continuing as they sat down to eat.

As soon as they were done, Castiel’s hand found Dean’s thigh again, resting warmly. Dean smiled and leaned into the man, enjoying the thrum of energy the touch sent through his body. He let out a content sigh and turned to press a kiss to Castiel’s shoulder, before lifting his head again to look at him.

Castiel’s eyes were bright with love as he leaned in to press a kiss to Dean’s lips, just for a moment, then pulled away. He cupped Dean’s face, brushing a thumb across Dean’s lips. “We have all day,” he said. “Will you join me on another walk?”

Dean just nodded. He would go anywhere with Cas.

—————

This time as they walked Castiel took Dean’s hand in his, leading him through the woods. They spent a couple hours just talking, enjoying each other’s company. Conversation flowed easily between them, then eventually drifted into a comfortable silence.

Dean noticed Castiel was thinking about something, he appeared to be deep in thought. He almost seemed sad, which Dean didn’t understand. They were having such a nice time, he didn’t know what could be getting to him.

They walked a little further, until they came around a bend in the path and Dean was surprised to find a pond that he’d never noticed before. It was rimmed with green grass and white flowers, and a couple rabbits were nibbling at the plants on the far shore.

“This is one of my favorite spots,” Castiel said, looking out over the water. “My Dean and I come here sometimes, just to sit and talk.”

Dean watched Castiel as he spoke, noticing the other man still seemed quite melancholy. He was staring out at the pond, but his mind seemed to be far away.

Castiel looked down at Dean’s hand in his own. “Dean. I don’t know what he told you, but you do not need to do this if you don’t want to.” He looked up at him, eyes shining brightly, face furrowed with deep concern. “I love you very much. But to know that our relationship was born out of something you didn’t want would destroy me. I would rather remain just your friend than do that to you.” His eyes were sad, but determined. “We can call it all off, right now, if that’s what you want.”

Dean was stunned, and he stared at Castiel. For a moment he truly considered it. He didn’t have to play along with Gabriel’s little game. He could refuse, Gabriel would probably cave and send him back, and he could go back to life as usual.

But then he looked at Cas, saw the fear and sadness in the angel’s eyes. He found himself thinking about everything Cas had ever done for him. He’d always known how much Cas had sacrificed for him, but he’d never really thought about how selfless the man was. He seemed to be singularly focused on making Dean happy. On protecting him and helping him, in any way that he could.

Dean’s mind was made up, he didn’t need any more time to think it over.

Dean grinned, feeling suddenly reckless and carefree. “I love you,” he said, stepping in closer to Cas. “It’s like you said before. I think we really have had some kind of bond, ever since you hauled my ass out of hell. But it’s so much more than that, too.” He reached up to run a hand over Castiel’s face, enjoying the way the other man lit up under his touch. “You’ve been taking care of me, ever since. And I would do anything for you. I can’t believe I’ve gotten this damn lucky, that this is the future I get to look forward to.”

They were suddenly both moving, and they met in the middle, lips meeting in a searing kiss. A real kiss. Castiel’s strong arms wrapped around Dean’s waist, pulling him closer, and Dean’s arms went around the other man’s neck, fingers tangling in his hair. Their lips fit together perfectly, tongues deepening the kiss. Castiel moved with practiced grace, while Dean explored for the first time. Dean could feel desire rising, demanding and craving. He kissed Cas more desperately, feeling his need overtaking him.

Cas finally pulled back, both of them breathing hard as they stared at each other for a moment.

Dean licked his lips, eyes flickering from Castiel’s mouth back up to his eyes. “I’m ready,” he whispered, catching himself by surprise. But his body agreed, he didn’t want to wait anymore. “More than ready.”

Castiel’s eyes grew dark and there was a new intensity about him. “Okay. Come,” he took Dean’s hand again and lead him back towards the bunker. It took them awhile to get there, neither of them able to resist pausing to trade kisses along the way.

They finally made it back to the bunker, and Cas lead him down the stairs and down the hall, and Dean’s heart raced with anticipation as they stepped into their room. It looked the same as it had the day Dean had appeared in their bed, only now it held so much more weight for him. He could see his life mixed with Castiel’s now, and the room just felt right.

He turned to Cas with a smile and pressed a firm kiss to his lips, heart too full for words.

Cas just kissed him back, and he found the hem of Dean’s shirt, slowly starting to tug upward. “Is this okay?”

Dean nodded. “Yes.” He let the other man pull his shirt off before he helped divest Cas of his. He found himself fascinated by Castiel’s well defined chest, and he ran his fingers over the smooth skin.

Castiel hummed softly, ducking his head to press a kiss to Dean’s neck. “Lay down on the bed for me, Dean,” he murmured.

Dean shuddered, loving the easy dominance in Castiel’s voice. He kicked off his shoes and socks before climbing onto the bed, laying out on his back. He looked up at Castiel, still standing there. He watched with wide eyes as the man stripped naked, and he couldn’t help but admire his cock, hard and ready. Dean licked his lips as Cas slowly started to crawl onto the bed and up the length of his body.

Dean gasped as Cas trailed kisses from his belly button upward, pausing to flick a tongue over his oh so sensitive nipple. Dean whimpered, hips jerking. His cock was fully hard now and straining to get free from his jeans. Castiel’s mouth continued upward, kissing and sucking a trail up Dean’s neck to his ear. Somehow he managed to hit each of Dean’s most sensitive spots perfectly.

“You should be aware, Dean,” Castiel murmured, voice soft on Dean’s ear. “I know your body better than my own.” He nipped gently at Dean’s earlobe. “I know all of your deepest desires, and every button to push to drive you crazy.”

Dean shuddered with that promise, already knowing it to be true. God he wanted that, wanted it desperately.

Cas pulled back to look at Dean. “Your Castiel won’t know you this well, not yet. You will have to give him time to learn. But tonight I will give you a small preview.” His hand was suddenly gently gripping Dean’s cock through his jeans, stroking slowly.

Dean groaned, thrusting his hips into Castiel’s hand. “Please, Cas. Come on, you’re killing me.”

Castiel just smiled, continuing to tease Dean. “Will you let me have you tonight?”

Dean gasped, Castiel’s words sending a full body shiver through him. “Yes Cas,” he easily agreed. He felt like Cas had him under a spell, he knew just what to say to make him submit.

“Thank you, Dean,” Cas said, pressing a gentle kiss to Dean’s lips.

Dean felt himself relax, all of his worry and stress was slipping away. All he could focus on was Cas. He watched with hooded eyes as Castiel moved lower again, hands easily divulging Dean of his jeans and briefs, leaving him naked.

Then suddenly Castiel’s mouth was on his cock and Dean cried out. His tongue moved up and down his length with practiced ease, and Dean’s head was spinning as he teased him perfectly. He knew exactly where Dean was the most sensitive, knew just how to make Dean squirm and moan.

After a few minutes of teasing Castiel pulled off, moving to kiss Dean again. “No coming yet,” he said, voice thick. “I want you to wait until I’m inside you.” He searched Dean’s face. “Would you like that, Dean?”

Dean felt like he could barely breathe. He still couldn’t believe this was going to happen, but fuck he wanted it. “Yes Cas, please. I need you.”

Castiel was pleased, and he leaned in to kiss Dean again. “Roll over on your stomach, it will be easier that way.”

Dean shook his head. “No, please Cas, I wanna see you.” His hands went to Castiel’s face. “Please.”

Cas nodded. “Okay. It may hurt a little more.”

“I don’t care.” Dean surged up to kiss him again.

Castiel returned the kiss for a moment longer, then pulled away again. “Just lay back and let me take care of you.”

Dean watched as Castiel pulled something from the bedside table, and he realized it was lube. He watched in fascination as Cas slicked his fingers, and the next thing he knew they were pushing between Dean’s legs. He gasped when they found his entrance, teasing it for a moment before gently pushing one finger inside.

Dean actually whimpered as Cas started to work him open, absolutely blown away by the intense feeling of being opened up and lovingly prepared. It was so intimate, and it felt amazing.

Then Castiel’s fingers brushed that special bundle of nerves inside him and Dean cried out as a sharp bolt of pleasure shot through him.

“Oh fuck, Cas!” Dean gasped out, hips jerking, fingers digging into Castiel’s shoulders.

Cas just chuckled and continued to work more fingers inside him, until Dean was nearly begging and Cas was satisfied that he was ready. Dean let out a little whimper as the fingers were pulled free, but the next thing he knew he could feel the thick head of Castiel’s cock brushing against his rim, and without thinking twice he spread his legs further, bringing them up to hook around Castiel’s hips.

Castiel kissed him just as he started to push inside, and his mouth swallowed Dean’s moans.

There was a bit of pain, but it was entirely overwhelmed by pleasure. Dean threw his head back as Cas continued to push into him, slowly working his way inside, inch by inch. He was gasping when Cas was finally there, filling him so wonderfully, and he was still for a long moment, letting Dean adjust.

Finally Dean couldn’t stand it anymore and he started to beg. “Please Cas, I’m good, please move.”

Castiel did as Dean asked, slowly starting to thrust into him. He moved steadily, making sure to push into Dean’s prostate with each pass, sending wonderful pleasure racing through him.

“I love you,” Cas murmured, pressing kisses to Dean’s neck and jaw. His hips continued to move steadily, and he gathered Dean’s legs in his arms, pushing them up further so he could drive in deeper.

Dean let out a deep moan at the new position. “Oh fuck. Love you too, Cas,” he gasped out.

God, this was so much more, so much better, unlike anything Dean ever expected. It was everything.

“Please, Cas,” Dean begged, ready and desperate for more. “Harder, please…”

Cas didn’t hesitate, his hips snapped sharply, increasing the pace of his thrusts. One hand gripped Dean’s shoulder and the other gripped his hip, holding him firmly in place as he fucked him.

“Oh hell, yes,” Dean gasped, arching his back to meet Castiel’s sharp thrusts. He pushed up against the other man’s hands, incredibly aroused by how easily he held him in place.

“You are not going to last much longer,” Castiel murmured, cock driving a little harder. “I can tell.”

Dean whimpered and shook his head. He didn’t want it to be over yet, but he was already so close, simply too overwhelmed to drag it out any longer.

Castiel leaned in and kissed Dean on the lips, then let his mouth trail to Dean’s ear. His hand reached down to grip Dean’s cock, starting to gently stroke it. “Then come for me, Dean.”

Dean cried out as his body immediately obeyed, his orgasm crashing over him as Castiel fucked him through it. The pleasure seemed to last forever as Castiel’s thrusts grew fast and erratic, until finally he too came with a groan and stilled inside Dean.

Dean’s arms were tightly wrapped around Castiel’s shoulders. He was still breathing hard and his body still quivered with fading pleasure. But he didn’t want Cas to go yet, didn’t want to lose his strong weight pressing him into the soft bed.

But after a minute he did finally let Cas pull away, if only to grab a towel to clean them both up. Once that was done Cas came back to his arms. Dean let out a long sigh and pillowed his head to Castiel’s chest.

“I can see why the other me is so possessive of you,” Dean said with a snort.

Castiel laughed softly. “I tried to explain that it’s irrational to be jealous of a different version of himself, but he doesn’t care.”

“Just make sure to change the sheets before he gets home,” Dean said, grinning up at Cas. “They’re going to be a mess.” He craned his head up to press a lingering kiss to Castiel’s lips.

“I imagine they will be,” Castiel said, raising an eyebrow at Dean. “It’s only four o’clock, and Dean said we have most of the night.”

Dean’s heart jumped, excited to get to spend more time exploring with Cas. “Great. Let’s make the best of it.”

—————

It was early in the morning when they were woken to the feeling of the bed dipping. This time Cas was there to stop Dean from going for the gun.

“It’s Gabriel,” Cas muttered, still half asleep even as he held Dean firmly, not letting him quite reach the gun.

“Heya Dean-o!”

Dean groaned, collapsing back onto Castiel’s chest. “Right.” He shifted so he could look up at the man standing on his bed without fully untangling himself from Cas. “I guess it’s time to go home now, isn’t it?”

“Yep.” Gabriel was grinning, looking quite pleased. “You did good, kid. Although this is so much more than I expected,” he said, waving a hand at their naked bodies tangled in the sheets. “A simple love confession would have sufficed.”

Dean rolled his eyes. “Then why didn’t you send me home this afternoon?”

Gabriel shrugged his shoulders. “You were having so much fun. And besides, now I know for sure you won’t mess things up with your Cas back home.” He waved his hand. “Say your goodbyes, it’s time to hit the road.”

Dean’s heart clenched suddenly, and he looked up at Cas. He could see the same bittersweet emotion in his eyes. “I guess it’s not really goodbye, right?” Dean said. “I’ll see you soon, and you’ll see me as soon as I get home from that hunt.”

Castiel nodded. “Right. Not goodbye at all.” He cupped Dean’s face in his hand, running his thumb over his cheekbone. “I love you.”

Dean smiled and leaned into the touch. “I love you, too.”

They came together for one last lingering kiss, sharing a long look when they pulled apart.

Dean finally turned back to Gabriel. “Ok. Take me home.”

Gabriel snapped his fingers, and in a flash Dean was alone in his bed again. Gabriel and Cas were gone, as was every sign he’d ever shared his room with another person. He looked down at his body and saw he was back in the t-shirt and briefs he’d been in when he’d left. He reached over to check his phone and saw he hadn’t lost any time, it was still the same date. So likely nobody knew he’d been gone.

Dean realized that after all that, he could still just stay in bed, never tell anyone what happened. If he didn’t confess his love to Cas, then nothing would change, they would just continue on as best friends. It was certainly the easier road, far easier than coming out to everyone.

But then he’d miss out on everything he’d experienced over the last several days. Just the thought of never kissing Cas again made his stomach twist into knots. He couldn’t let that happen, now that he knew what he could have, he’d never be able to live without it.

Dean sat up in bed, suddenly needing to go to Cas. He needed to see his Cas, to make sure he was still there, waiting for him. He quickly pulled on a pair of jeans and left his room, crossing the hall and bursting into Castiel’s room without knocking.

Cas was there, awake and sitting up in his bed. He was reading a book, wearing his standard suit and trench coat. He looked up at Dean in surprise, brows furrowing. “Dean? What’s wrong?”

Dean stood there frozen for a moment, then suddenly lunged forward, climbing into the bed and straddling Castiel’s lap. He took the other man’s face in his hands and kissed him firmly, grinning into the kiss when he felt Cas immediately start to kiss him back, strong arms coming up to circle his waist.

Dean finally pulled away, looking into Castiel’s shocked face, full of so much hope that it hurt. He grinned. “I love you, Cas.”

Castiel’s breath caught, and it took him a moment to find his words. “I love you too, Dean,” he managed, voice thick and rough.

Dean let his forehead rest against Castiel’s. “I promise I’ll explain everything in the morning. But for now, will you just lay with me while I sleep? I need you here with me.”

“Anything for you, Dean,” Castiel said, his hand coming up to cup Dean’s jaw.

Dean’s heart soared at the familiar touch.

—————

Three years later...

“He’d better be gone,” Dean grumbled, throwing open the bunker door and stomping down the steps. The hunt was done and handled, and all Dean wanted was to go to sleep in his own bed, with his own angel.

“You know it’s irrational to be jealous of a past version of yourself, Dean,” Sam said, rolling his eyes as he followed him down the stairs.

“Cas said that too, don’t care,” Dean snapped.

It wasn’t just the sharing. It was facing the version of himself who had denied his love for Castiel for so long. Had almost been too scared to ever let it happen. He’d been terrified that somehow his past self would fuck it up, take it all away from him.

His hand went to his chest, double checking that the vile with Castiel’s grace was still where it belonged. He always feared losing it on a hunt, but this week he’d feared losing it for a different reason. But it was still there, where it belonged. Dean sighed. “I just want life to go back to normal.”

“Okay, okay,” Sam said. “I’m sure he’s gone, just like you said he would be. I’m going to bed.” He turned the corner heading for his room.

Dean marched down the hall and threw open his bedroom door. He was incredibly relieved to see Cas there, sleeping in bed, alone.

He also noticed he’d showered and changed the sheets, just like he’d suggested he should three years ago, when he’d been the one in that bed. That made Dean smile. Castiel always cared so much about making him happy.

Dean quietly stripped down to just his t-shirt and briefs before climbing into bed. He slipped under the covers and snuggled up to Castiel’s chest, sighing softly when the other man’s arms automatically wrapped around him.

“Welcome home,” Castiel murmured, still half asleep, his hand rubbing Dean’s back. “You and Sam both okay?”

“Not a scratch,” Dean said, pleased that Cas always checked on Sam too. “And the vamp hybrids are no more.”

“Good, then I hope we can take a couple of days off,” Castiel said, kissing Dean’s forehead. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you, too,” Dean said. “I hated sharing you with him.”

Castiel chuckled. “Yes, I know. But he’s gone now, it’s just us.”

“Good.” Dean smiled, already feeling his irritation fading away now that he didn’t have to deal with his past self anymore. “Okay, I’ve been driving all night, and I know you haven’t gotten much sleep at all, if I can recall,” he said, propping his head up on Castiel’s chest and giving him a cheeky grin. “So let’s get some sleep, we can make up for lost time in the morning.” He waggled his eyebrows. “I know you need a break anyway, past me wore you out.”

Castiel laughed. “Yes, yes you did.”

Dean leaned down to press a soft kiss to Castiel’s lips, then settled back into his arms, pillowing his head on the other man’s shoulder. He let out a long, content sigh. “Love you, Cas.”

“I love you too, Dean.”

[AN: Thank you SO MUCH for reading, I hope you enjoyed it! Comments and reblogs are <3!! Also on AO3.

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