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#before 'casual' just meant 'resting warily' or 'passed out from exhaustion' or something else along those lines
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Smoke & Mirrors - part 5
Neil x Reader
Chapter 5: Blue blood
(see chapter 4, 3, 2, 1)
summary: everything should be easier from now on, right?
warnings:  language, alcohol mention, 18+
author’s note: I know part 5 was supposed to be a finale. 
It’s not.
This is just where the story took me, and I think splitting it this way is going to pay out in the end.
song for this chapter: Laurel - Blue Blood
Anyway, enjoy! And let me know what you think, please?
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-----
You stared at your boss, trying to wrap your mind around everything you’d just heard.
“Does that technically make me--?
“An assistant squad leader, yes,” said The Protagonist. “At least for the time being.“
He didn’t need to say anything else - you were well aware he meant it could go both ways from now on.
You nodded, glancing to your left at Neil.
“As long as it’s not an assistant to the squad leader...” you said and shrugged, trying to keep a straight face while Neil snorted loudly at your comment. You exchanged quick looks and you finally allowed a small smile to appear on your lips. It felt good to catch him off guard for once, and him getting a reference was a nice surprise as well.
“What’s so funny?” the boss asked, eyeing you warily.
Just as you opened your mouth to apologize, Neil collected himself enough to let out a long musing sigh.
“Ah, one could dream.”
You let out an exasperated huff and kicked him in the ankle, stifling a giggle. Fucking hell, you didn’t know what had gotten into you. Or him, for that matter, almost choking with laughter at your reaction.
TP must have been thinking the same because his eyes darted between both of you from under a raised brow. He cleared his throat.
“Are you two done?” he asked, and something in his tone made you straighten in your seats instantly as if you were two misbehaving kids in the principal’s office. “I need the first drafts from you by tomorrow noon.”
“Of course. Thank you, sir,” you said, internally cursing at yourself for losing your cool.
Your boss shook his head slowly and you could swear his usual polite expression cracked for a split second, revealing a glimpse of a smug smile hiding in a corner of his lips.
“Now go, before I change my mind.”
You grabbed the documents from the desk and mumbled a quick goodbye on your way out.
Neil followed you closely, his sparkling eyes showing no remorse for what had just happened.
“Would be easier if you still despised me, wouldn’t it,” he teased as he closed the door behind you.
You groaned and smacked his arm with the papers.
“What makes you think that I don’t?”
“Oh please,” he let out a throaty chuckle and sent you a roguish smile. The way he seemed to be almost obnoxiously confident in how this combo worked on you drove you mad every time. Not that he was wrong, it simply didn’t help the case he was trying to make. “Meet me at my place later?”
You gaped at him. “Can’t we use the conference room?” you asked and started walking down the empty corridor, hoping that being on the move would help your clearly malfunctioning mind.
Neil matched your pace. “It’s gonna take hours and the chairs there are far from comfortable.”
“Who would’ve thought you have such a sensitive ass,” you snickered and narrowed your eyes. “Admit it, you’re just looking for an excuse to lure me to bed.”
You stopped by the elevators. Neil hummed as he reached out to press a button to call one to your floor.
He leaned your way slightly and lowered his voice. “I think we’ve already established that we don’t really need a bed for that.”
...fair point. 
You swallowed with effort, turning his way. He was looking at you with an amused expression on his face, but you saw the way his gaze darkened under your stare. You could be annoyed with him being inappropriate all you wanted, but you had to admit - it was kind of reassuring how some things stayed the same after the recent events.
“Promise to behave?”
Neil raised a brow and a corner of his lips twitched.
“Only if you do.”
“Deal,” you said and walked into the elevator, nodding in a greeting to a couple of agents inside.
As the door closed with a small hiss, you caught a playful twinkle in the blue eyes.
“And only till we finish preparing that draft.”
His voice could be the prime example of corporate professionalism, and that one out-of-context line was obviously not enough to send an elbow to his ribs without raising suspicious looks from your colleagues.
...but you did it anyway.
---------
The time in Neil’s apartment could be counted by the emptied cups of coffee, the amount of scratched ideas, or the number of times you caught each other glancing at one another. And when you finally got close to cracking the case of planning that temporal pincer movement, it was already late in the evening, and you were glad you’d spent the last couple of hours on a comfy sofa instead of one of those god awful chairs in the conference room.
Neil kept his promise and was surprisingly easy to work with. His take on things, not yet tainted by years in the field, provided many fresh ideas, while your experience allowed you to catch and assess any potential risks on the fly. The way he paid attention to your words and cared about your feedback made you feel heard and appreciated, and that was something you weren’t quite used to. You didn’t have too much time to muse over it though, because there were still some parts of the plan you had to go through and the exhaustion was slowly catching up to you, making you less and less productive with every passing minute.
You crumbled a piece of paper in your fist and groaned, tossing it on top of a small pile of paper balls on the floor. As you moved your hand to your face to pinch the bridge of your nose, you noticed red and blue smudges from permanent markers covering your palm. Fucking hell. Choosing to rest your forehead on your knuckles instead, you closed your eyes and exhaled slowly, gathering your thoughts. You heard Neil standing up and moving to the kitchen. Seems like he needed a break as well.
A moment of silence was abruptly interrupted by the clanking of glassware. You raised your head and stretched your arms, only then realizing how stiff you felt after so many hours curled in one spot. Just as you got up, Neil came back with two glasses of what seemed to be a whiskey.
“Drinks?” you asked, puzzled. Anything with caffeine would be more fitting with your current state, especially since you were not done with the work yet.
Neil smiled as he handed you the glass.
“Thought we could take five minutes off to celebrate.” Seeing your perplexed face, he beamed a bit wider. “...your promotion?”
You laughed at your own confusion. Right. Shrugging lightly, you stirred your glass.
“Oh, it only means I got stuck with you, and I don’t know if it’s a thing to celebrate,” you said, holding back a mischievous grin.
Neil rolled his eyes and let out an amused sigh. “Drown your sorrows then.”
“That I can do,” you arched a brow and chuckled. “Cheers!”
The glasses clinked and you met Neil’s glance with something new shining from under the usual playfulness. He noticed the curiosity in your stare and smirked as he took a sip of his drink, sitting down on a sofa.
“You know what else we could use those five minutes for?” he asked casually, leaning back on the pillows with a roguish smile you knew too well.
You looked him up and down slowly, hoping the whiskey would help with the sudden dryness inside your mouth. That slightly unbuttoned navy shirt with rolled-up sleeves and the way he spread his legs made you weak. You mustered all the self control your tired brain could scramble before speaking again, the lit-up eyes being any indication of the effect he had on you.
“It’s closer to four now, I’m afraid.”
Neil put down his glass on a coffee table and knitted his brows together, pretending to run a short calculation in his mind.
“Ample.”
You downed your drink and teased, “Is it now?” as you placed the empty glass next to his.
“We’ll figure something out,” he said and reached out for your hand, pulling you to him before you could say anything else. As you fell on him with a quiet yelp, Neil wrapped one arm around your waist, securing you on his lap.
A faint protest about the draft not being finished got stuck in your throat. Captivated by the look in his eyes, it dawned on you that it was the first time you were so close, now without the rage boiling in your veins, without the danger of someone walking in on you; just you and him, focused on each other, too awestruck to make the next move.
You brushed a wild strand from his forehead and your fingers traveled further through his hair. Neil’s forehead creased, his jaw went slack and he searched your gaze, trying to figure out your intentions. As your eyes wandered around his features, your fingertips followed them unhurriedly. Grazing lightly against the eyebrows, gliding over the cheekbones, trailing along the sharp jawline till his breath hitched and his lips parted ever so slightly. You noticed how longing his stare became and you smiled softly. Was he always so gorgeous?
Leaning in and cupping his face in your hands, you could feel him tense for a split second, but as soon as you pressed your forehead to his, the arm wrapped around your waist pulled you closer to him and Neil exhaled slowly. He lifted his hand from your lap and his long fingers combed your hair and slid down, rubbing your neck gently.
You closed your eyes and let out a small sigh, relaxing under his touch, under the heat of his body. Breathing in the scent of his cologne, both arousing and grounding at the same time. Tilting your head, you nuzzled his nose and you could feel his brows furrowing as he followed your motion, stroking your nose up and down slowly. Tenderly. Brushing his lips with your fingertips, you lost yourself in this moment. In the warmth spreading through you. In the way your breaths intertwined.
Your hands traced back to his jaw and you felt it clenching in response.
Neil’s hand left your neck and you opened your eyes, only to notice his conflicted expression. And a glimpse of sadness tainting the blue irises. Seeing the confused look on your face, he palmed over your hand on his cheek, pulling it away hesitantly.
“We should get back to work,” he said, avoiding your gaze, his voice raspy and hollow.
The heart sank in your chest as you sprung from his lap. Of course.
“Yeah, right, sure,” you mumbled, suddenly feeling lightheaded, with the cold sweat slowly drenching the back of your shirt and the pulse pounding heavily in your ears.
You were such an idiot. Should have known better. You were never gonna learn, huh?
Gritting your teeth, you grabbed the markers and a fresh stack of papers and sat down on the floor at the far end of the coffee table, trying to ignore the enigmatic stare being sent your way.
Neil let out a deep sigh and reached out for his unfinished drink. As he put down the empty glass, he shook his head, looking somewhat defeated.
You cleared your throat and resumed where you'd left off, determined to get over the last details of the operation as soon as possible. Luckily, focusing on the work numbed down the crippling embarrassment. At least for the time being.
And although the initial flow was nowhere to be found, the plan was ready and bulletproof in a little over an hour. The presentation was finished. And so were you. Or at least that’s how you felt, collecting various blueprints and schematics covering most of the flat areas within your reach. 
You looked around, checking one last time if everything was ready to submit.
“Guess that’s it,” you said and started gathering your things, getting ready to leave. 
Neil followed you to the hall and watched as you put on the coat.
“Listen, I...” 
Holding your breath, you turned his way. Waiting for his next words.
Meanwhile, he struggled to find them, and a frustrated frown clouded his features.
“...let me at least call you a cab?”
The void in your chest grew an inch. Right.
“I’ll take a walk.” Your mouth contorted in a weak attempt to smile. “See you tomorrow, blondie,” you said dryly and walked out of the apartment, nauseous and desperate to get some fresh air.
How silly of you to think that it could be about anything other than sex. 
That’s what you get for being willing to open up.
Yet another painful reminder that you weren’t a relationship material. 
You exhaled shakily as your legs carried you to the only place able to stop your mind from spiraling.
Aim and pull the trigger. 
Repeat.
Simple.
(next chapter->)
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Satisfied, Part 38
First
Previous
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~~~
She woke up with a groan and rubbed her eyes. Someone, probably Chloe, had tucked her into bed. She smiled faintly and sat up.
A glance at her phone found a text from Chloe saying she’d gotten home safely, a text from Jason asking if she was okay (really subtle), and a text from Damian asking if she wanted to talk.
She closed her eyes, letting her phone drop to her side. She didn’t really want to talk about anything, she’d already cried herself out of tears the night before and she didn’t intend on doing that again anytime soon.
She glanced at her work. She kinda needed to get a move on, the Wayne Gala was steadily approaching, but she didn’t really have any motivation to do that. She didn’t feel like being productive at all, actually.
What she wanted, really, was a distraction. She mulled over her options. Most of her hobbies also felt like work, from designing to baking, so… what could she do?
Oh!
She pulled up a chat.
Definitelyforgottosleep: wanna hang out today
She barely had to wait for an answer.
Coffeeismygirlfriend: Sure! I’ll be there soon.
She got up and went to the bathroom to get ready, only to see the dried blood on her floor. She bit her cheek and then walked to the door. She glanced back in it’s direction and smiled when she realized her counter covered it. Good. She could deal with that later, then. She didn’t feel like cleaning.
Marinette smiled as she opened the door an hour later, fully ready.
Tim smiled. “Hey! Ready to do some work?”
She grinned and rushed past him, hooking her arm with his. “Nope!”
He blinked confusedly as he allowed her to drag him along. “Uhhhh this wasn’t expected.”
“I can see that. You work too much anyways.”
Tim groaned. “Not you, too! I thought you understood!”
“Not saying it’s a bad thing, but I don’t want to do work today.”
He looked at her like she was insane.
She grinned and pulled him into an arcade that she’d seen a few times on patrol. “Behold! I’m gonna teach you how to have fun!”
He raised his eyebrows slightly. “I know how to have fun.”
“Mmm,” she said, not agreeing or disagreeing.
They both pulled out their wallets and then eyed each other warily. Marinette crossed her arms over her chest.
“I’m the one who wanted to come.”
“I’m the one with more money.”
She rolled her eyes and, however reluctantly, put her money away. He had a point. He probably wouldn’t even register the loss.
He smiled like he’d won something and handed over his credit card. “Uhhhh just as many points as you can give us, I guess?”
The clerk looked exhausted as she nodded, handing over the plastic cards.
And, with that, they were off.
She was better at most of the straight video games. He complained about difficult controls, but she was pretty sure he just wasn’t used to playing on consoles. It made sense, he didn’t really seem the type to play video games in his off time (if he even had any offtime, of course).
Still, he gave her a pout every time he lost. “You’re cheating.”
“Yeah. I’m cheating on this game that I’ve literally never played before in my life. You’ve caught me.”
He huffed. “We’re playing something else.”
Then they moved onto games based on sports. Were they maybe a bit too good at these types of games? A bit too quick? Yes. But neither of them intended on saying anything because oh cool tickets. Still, it became obvious they had different skill sets: Tim had her beat at basketball and Marinette never lost at skeeball. They never learned who was better at air hockey because one of their hits sent the puck flying into someone’s head and they had to run away before they got sued.
Next was games of luck…
She got the lowest possible amount of tickets. Five times in a row.
Marinette kicked the machine and then cursed at the pain. “THIS IS STUPID.”
Tim, however, was trying his hardest not to laugh. “This shouldn’t even be possible.”
“Helpful,” she muttered.
He gave a small shrug as he stepped up to the machine. “Maybe it’s just rigged or something,” he said. She would have been inclined to agree... if he didn’t get a jackpot on his first try.
She huffed at his smug grin. “Shut up.”
“I didn’t say anything.”
“I could feel you judging me,” she muttered, giving his shoulder a small shove.
He grinned. “I’d never.”
She rolled her eyes. “New type of game!”
After a bit they managed to find some co-op games, and she was delighted to find that the two of them together made for a pretty formidable team. Admittedly, some of the games weren’t technically supposed to be played as co-op, but who was going to stop them from getting as many tickets as possible from this fishing game by working together? Really it was the designer’s fault for not taking that into consideration.
They ran out of credits about every hour, but did they care? Not really. Mostly because Tim never told her when this happened, usually waiting until she was distracted with a game to go recharge their cards. Did Marinette notice the fact that their cards were seemingly never ending or that sometimes they would randomly have a lot more credits? Maybe, but she was enjoying herself enough to avoid the guilt at least temporarily.
Eventually, though, the arcade was coming to a close.
They had bags upon bags of tickets hanging off their arms, but this would become their downfall. Despite being smart enough to find ways to get the most tickets at every game, they apparently weren’t smart enough to think ahead and were now struggling to untangle the tickets.
“How did you even do this, bean?”
She knocked her head against the machine she’d been leaning on. “Less talking, more untangling,” she muttered irritably, struggling with a ticket that somehow had gotten a knot in it.
They ignored the workers’ glares as they finally managed to hand over the little slip with their ticket count on it. Despite how much they’d gotten, they were forced to go to the cheapest section.
She pouted. “Man, we were cheated.”
“We could just buy the stuff, it’s a lot cheaper that way.”
She turned her gaze on him, an incredulous look on her face. “Of course not! Where’s the fun in that?”
“You would actually get what you wanted…?”
She huffed. “Boring.”
“You just said you felt cheated.”
“That’s part of the experience, Timothy.”
He rolled his eyes and they split off in search of what they could afford. Her eyes landed on the vigilante merch and a smile came to her face as she got a plan. She quickly rang herself up and headed to the bathroom to change.
She grinned at him as she stepped out in a Red Robin themed hoodie, clutching a plush version of the vigilante to her chest. 
Because what’s the point of knowing your friends’ secret identities if you can’t mess with them?
He blushed, his grip tightening on the bag of prizes in his hand.
Marinette tried not to laugh as she looped her arm with his again, pulling him out into the streets. She really didn’t know where they were going, but she didn’t want to just leave when he was looking so flustered. What a wasted opportunity!
“So, Red Robin fan?” He asked after a bit.
She smiled. “Of course! He’s super smart! I mean, I know Batman is supposed to be the greatest detective of all time or whatever but, considering ages and experience, I think that Red Robin is probably going to have him beat in… I don’t know, a few years?”
Poor Tim looked like he was about to pass out, his face was so red.
She smiled and sat down with him on a park bench. People were thinning around them as night approached, but she didn’t care. What was going to happen? They get attacked? That would only really be a bad time for the criminal.
“But I’ve actually met the guy a few times. He’s really nice and genuinely cares about his job from what I’ve seen. Don’t think there’s anything bad to say about him, honestly.”
He grinned, resting an arm around her shoulders.
“He’s alright, I guess.” An odd light sparkled in his eyes and he reached into his bag. He shuffled through his things for a bit and then held up a mug…
There was a picture of Ladybug on it.
“I think she’s cooler, though.”
Marinette fought the urge to bury her face in his shoulder as a blush came to her face. Ah. So this has backfired on her, apparently. All she could manage was a quiet: “Oh?”
“Yep! I think it’s really cool that she came over from Paris, because she really didn’t have to do that. No one would have said anything if she’d disappeared when Hawkmoth was defeated, but instead she decided to help Gotham!”
They were alone, now. This was great, because she didn’t need anyone else seeing her looking like a tomato. She fiddled with the Red Robin plushie in her lap for an excuse to look away.
A hand rested on her cheek and she looked up to see him. He was still a little flushed from her own compliments, but now there was a small grin playing at his lips. “Everything alright, bean? You look a little bit flushed, are you coming down with something?”
She opened her mouth to give an excuse before something struck her. Tim wasn’t stupid, she hadn’t been lying when she had said so. He couldn’t genuinely be wondering if she was sick, the smug look on his face made that obvious. So the only reason he’d be acting like this was if he was teasing her, which meant…
“You know?”
His eyes widened slightly and then flicked to the side. His hand lowered. “And I’m guessing you do, too?”
She nodded almost imperceptibly, closing her eyes. “What gave me away?”
“I was kinda suspicious during the food fight, you were a bit too good at it for a normal civvie, but I really figured it out because of the fox necklace. The one time she wears it is the one time I’ve seen you ever have it? It was just too much of a coincidence.”
She swore in French. She’d forgotten about that! She was going to start wearing the fox miraculous casually to alleviate suspicion, but Red Robin hadn’t come by much after that and she hadn’t been completely sure it was Tim.
“And how’d you figure me out?”
She hesitated. “It was obvious, honestly.”
“Damian?”
She blinked. “What? How’d you know?”
“You wouldn’t lie to protect anyone else.”
Fair enough. “Damian and I sparred, I recognized his fight style.”
He nodded and pulled her into his side a bit more.
She leaned into his touch a little bit, slinging an arm over his stomach lazily. “What do you think I should do?” She mumbled.
He didn’t bother to ask what she was talking about. “Honestly? I don’t like you going out into the field again. You’re not well…”
“But?”
“But the Rogues are unstable and I don’t like the idea of trying to fight them all off without any knowledge of what they were going to do.”
She nodded slightly. That made sense. “That’s about what I figured, too.”
“I don’t like you going out into the field again. You’re not well,” he repeated, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. “The rest of them are probably going to be even more against the idea than me.”
“I’ll convince them.”
“Can you?”
Her head shot up to look at him and she bit at the inside of her cheek. He had a point, unfortunately. Jason was going to be against it, Bruce would probably be cautious of her because of his whole anti-murder thing, Dick would probably lean towards not letting her out again as well. She thought she might be able to convince Damian, but then again he was the only one who knew the full extent of what had happened over the past week.
She sighed and leaned into him again, closing her eyes. She buried her face in his shoulder. “Can you help?”
“Maybe,” he said softly, and she knew immediately that whatever he was going to say she wasn’t going to like it. “If you go to therapy regularly they’d probably be more okay with it.”
She cringed. There was that suggestion again: therapy. It was almost like she needed it or something. Still, she felt her normal excuse fall off her tongue: “What, am I supposed to tell them who I am?”
“Yep.”
She frowned.
“All of us have a regular therapist who sees us in costume and we talk about the job.”
“Will she tell Bruce everything I say?”
“Nope! She only has to tell him if we’re going to hurt ourselves or others.” He gave a short chuckle. “More than necessary, I mean.”
Marinette sighed. “But…”
Man, she was really running out of excuses now.
“It’s really the only way they’ll agree, bean.”
He was right, she just didn’t like it. She didn’t agree out loud, that would only make it feel more real. Instead, she curled into his side.
“We should probably head back to my apartment at some point. It’s going to get cold soon.”
“Yeah, probably,” he agreed quietly.
They didn’t move from where they were for a long time, content to lean into each other for warmth.
And, when they woke up the next morning, they decided to pretend they didn’t notice the giant sign over their necks that declared them under Rogue protection.
~~~
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kisskissbanggang · 4 years
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Can You
[~10Min Read/3.3K Words - Sub!Jaehyun x Dom!Female Reader - NSFW 1/2 Plot 1/2 Smut - Office hookups, impromptu dom/sub, mutual pining, dirty talk, mild degradation]
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You’d never really looked at Jaehyun until he wore a suit to the office. Of course, you saw him nearly every day, but the day he dropped his messenger bag on your desk as he raced around, looking for his tie clip he’d left in the office last time he had a hearing, you truly noticed him for the first time. It wasn’t exactly in your job description to acknowledge how effortlessly tidy he kept his hair, or how neatly he kept the stubble on his chin smooth, or the natural charm of his dimples, but now you were trying desperately to keep your mind off of it after he ran to catch his Uber. Surely, you would forget about it, and not have to worry about disappointing your father, who’d pulled some strings with a friend to get you this job in Jaehyun’s office in the first place. 
But then Jaehyun came huffing back into the office at the end of the day, after his hearing, while you were on your way out. His suit jacket was slung back over his shoulder, with his tie pulled loose in his shirt collar. The look alone made your heart quake. 
“That ran way longer than I’d been hoping,” he laughed exhaustedly as he shrugged back into his office, “I’m so happy to get this stupid suit off.” 
“Want some help?” You laughed, instantly mortified at your outlandish remark. Thankfully, Jaehyun laughed. 
“Not tonight,” he chuckled, his shoulders appearing to relax as he thankfully seemed charmed by your joke.  
And you refused to think about it, wouldn’t have deigned to think about how Jaehyun would look taking that suit off when he got home that night, and how maybe you wanted to take it off for him. Instead, you returned back to your little apartment on the other side of the city and hopped into a freezing shower. 
Sure enough, the next morning Jaehyun strolled into the office in jeans and a sweater. 
“Well, you certainly look more comfortable,” you chirped politely. 
He let out a relieved sigh. “So much more comfortable. Can I please have some coffee?” You tried to look away from his cute smile as you nodded, his dimples pulling you in an untrustworthy direction. He shut the door to his office as he cued up some music on his speakers so he could get caught up on work. The thought of Jaehyun’s broad shoulders, the way he bit his lip when he was thinking — it was all hopefully getting pushed out of your mind as you took an extra long moment to pour Jaehyun some coffee. You peeked through the window lining his office door and looked back over your shoulder to check with his assistant real quick to see if Jaehyun was on a phone call before you softly rapped on the door. The sight of Jaehyun’s worn sneakers propped up on his desk distracted you for a moment before you responded to his smiling wave beckoning you in. He sat up in his seat, grinning gratefully as he took a brave sip of the hot brew in his favorite mug. 
“Sorry for whining,” he sheepishly offered, maybe emboldened by finally getting some caffeine in him. 
“I’m just surprised, is all,” you smirked, “I thought suits sort of just came with the whole lawyer thing, like a package deal.”
“Well, honestly, I totally used to be that guy at my last firm,” he admitted with a shrug, “but things change. There’s more important things than looking the part.”
“I agree,” you curtly smiled at him, trying not to look like a bashful schoolgirl as you breezed out of his office. 
The next few days, work consisted of you ghosting around and away from Jaehyun’s office, and trying hard not to be preoccupied by his comfortable sneakers casually kicked up on his desk as he seemed to be asking for coffee refills more often than usual. Of course, you did still have to bring him his personal mail everyday. Maybe that would be a fitting opportunity to get this dumb crush out of your system. You resolved to finally start making yourself clear without being unprofessional, that you would make it known to him that you understood where the boundary was and weren’t going to cross it. 
The following morning, the perfect chance came as you set a package on Jaehyun’s desk along with his coffee. Jaehyun quickly sat up and clicked off his Twitter feed. He’d apparently been looking up a girl. You knowingly tapped the package. 
“Secret gift for your girlfriend?” You prodded, just innocent enough to be passing small talk, but surely something that would let your intentions be known. Except Jaehyun laughed, which in this moment meant he choked on his coffee. 
“Girlfriend?!” He guffawed. “Lord, no. This is just an emergency tie to keep in my desk. I’m single, and I’m just fine with that. Are you?” The look in his eye was goading, teasing, and it lit a fire in you that you weren’t quite familiar with. 
“Oh, er—“ you stumbled over your words as you grabbed some napkins from your back pocket. You always carried some when fetching coffee for the partners, just in case something like this happened. It didn’t quite strike you as an odd move when you leaned over his desk to wipe up the sputtered coffee, but it was increasingly apparent as you noticed you were practically bent over Jaehyun’s lap. You both froze before you quickly snapped back up, apologizing profusely as you excused yourself from his office. 
You dreaded the rest of the day, wondering if this was it, if you’d grossly overstepped your boundaries while desperately trying not to without causing a scene. 
But nothing came. No yelling, no lecturing. In fact, your father called. He heard you were doing great. 
Honestly, it was easier to just ignore it, to just cage the butterflies in your stomach that came around every time Jaehyun made small talk or asked you to hold his calls, or ask for his fourth cup of coffee for the day. Jaehyun never overtly made a pass at you other than harmless jokes, and he never got too personal. It was easy to try ignoring him. All you really knew about Jaehyun Jung was that he was a young lawyer, and an incredibly competent one at that. He refused to divulge much else. His office had no pictures, no knickknacks — only his minimalist decor and tech, his diplomas and certificates, and one lone orchid that sat on his windowsill and he cared for religiously. As opposed to the older partners, his reference books were all on his hard drive. He didn’t go out, he refused to let anyone celebrate his birthday, and he only stuck around at the annual holiday party for the White Elephant and a single beer. To say Jaehyun was closed off was putting it mildly. He wasn’t an island — he was a fortress. 
Over the course of another week, you became so good at ignoring your schoolgirl crush on Jaehyun that it was as if it never happened. You could even resume life as normal, to a point that you found yourself knocking on Jaehyun’s office door with a fresh cup of coffee before he asked. He sat up with a start, planting his sneakers on the carpet as he eyed you. 
“I’m single, you know,” he blurted, “but I’m not looking.”
“That’s fine?” You raised a dubious eyebrow at him. “This is just a cup of coffee.”
“I, uh,” Jaehyun stammered, blindsiding you with his uncertainty before he pointed to the hook behind his door. “Can you take my suit to the dry cleaner’s? I was going to do it at lunch but I need to really review these exhibits before I have to present them tomorrow at my trial.”
You’d nodded dutifully, taking Jaehyun’s suit in its garment bag to hang on the coat rack by your desk until your lunch break. The faintest hint of Jaehyun’s cologne hit your nose and you grimaced before quickly hanging it up and pretending that no longer existed, either, or at least until lunch. 
Jaehyun didn’t even come to the office the following morning, no doubt having to go through his own practiced ritual before a jury trial. It wasn’t until later that day, just in time to close the office, that a group text came through the office. Jaehyun had lost. It wasn’t necessarily a surprise — Jaehyun never wanted this to get to trial in the first place — but everyone seemed pretty relieved to have to clear out. 
Except for you. You stared at the mountain of files to update on your desk. It was nice, honestly, to work with no coworkers and no phones ringing, just you and some quiet music to power through your work until you were ready to lock up the office. You were closing the door, by itself at the end of a winding hallway, when you felt a presence sneak up behind you. You whirled around, facing a very defeated Jaehyun, his sleeves rolled up and his tie hanging slack around his neck again. He regarded you warily, tiredly, in the seemingly cramped space of the hall. 
“You alright?” You softly asked. 
“I cannot wait to get out of this stupid suit,” Jaehyun sighed, an exhausted smile revealing his dimples. There it was. That dreaded longing. You just needed to hold it back, not make any rash—
“You want some help?” You smirked. 
God dammit. 
Jaehyun held your self-conscious stare. The two of you attempted to read each other, get any sort of handle on the situation. You decided this was it, you would briskly turn and leave and forget you were this big of an idiot, and hopefully he would as well. 
Except Jaehyun reached for you. He reached for you, his fingertips brushing over your waist and his lips grazing over yours before they pressed to your cheek, and ultimately the soft spot on your neck just below your ear. 
Your fingers grasped at his shirt, the metal of your office keys digging into your palm before you pulled him close, and pushed him back away. You were staring each other down again, now with the added layer of Jaehyun blushing through to his ears. The silence of the hallway was crushing. 
“I’m sorry,” Jaehyun shook his head as he pressed back against the wall in the compact corridor, “I meant it the other day. I’m not looking for anything. You’re gorgeous, and I can’t stop looking at you, and my caffeine intake has tripled in the past weeks, but I’ve… You have to understand. I’ve hurt people before.”
The ball was in your court, except this felt more like a grenade. Jaehyun was looking at you, and was asking you into his office lately just to see you and talk to you. And you quashed all these feelings, for what? For some high school nonsense like this?
“That’s fine,” you decided. Jaehyun stared, unblinking. 
“What?”
“That’s fine, Mr. Jung,” you nodded, teasing him with the title he’d instantly insisted you not use when you first started at the firm. His eyebrows raised cautiously as you slowly grasped his necktie and drew him close. “I’m not asking you to marry me. I’m not asking you to exorcise all your demons or martyr yourself. I’m telling you that if you want it, I’ll help you take that suit off.”
“You’re trouble,” Jaehyun laughed breathlessly. 
“You’re the one wasting time asking me to get you coffee when you could’ve been asking me out.”
You shut up Jaehyun’s surely clever retort as you yanked him close, this time giving him the proper kiss he’d deprived you of initially. To your relief, his lips responded in kind, his tongue following your lead as his hands searched your body, before landing on the keys in your hand. He quickly got the office door open, and you pulled him along, clumsily punching in the alarm code and letting Jaehyun desperately grope at you. Both your work bags dropped to the floor of the lobby, your coats landing on top of them as Jaehyun kissed you back through the dark office to his door. You still had a vice grip on Jaehyun’s tie, holding him close and making him accidentally push you hard against the door, a grunt reverberating through both of your chests. And his hands were in your hair, fretting over hurting you and making sure you were alright and kissing your face before you turned the knob to his office, sending you both tumbling inside. Making quick work of him, you shoved Jaehyun to sit back on his desk. 
“What’re you going to do to me?” He quietly asked, but it wasn’t timid. Jaehyun was challenging you, dipping a toe in the rapids. 
“I’m going to make you forget your ghosts for a little bit,” you explained as you swiftly slid off his tie. Jaehyun watched, intrigued and curious as you crawled onto the desk between his legs, but only to reach around him to rummage around in the drawers behind him. 
“Not very interested in me, huh?” He asked, as if he’d proven any sort of point before you scoffed. He went rigid under you when you sat back up between his legs, his recently acquired emergency tie in your hands. 
“Don’t be dumb,” you smiled in the scant moonlight streaming through the window lining the wall. “Of course I’m interested in you, Mr. Jung, but I’m a bit hung out to dry after seeing you’re all flash but no bang for the past couple weeks.”
“I resent that,” Jaehyun laughed weakly, his eyes pointed at your fingers lifting the hem of your skirt so you could straddle his hips on the desk. 
“Don’t argue,” you condescendingly shook your head, “you did plenty of that today. You asked what I’m going to do to you, and right now I’m going to work out this frustration you left me with.” Before he could respond, you firmly pushed Jaehyun back onto his desk before gathering up his wrists and wrapping one of his ties around them. 
Until he roughly jerked them away. You nearly scoffed, nearly teased, until you sensed a desperation — fear — in his action. 
“Jaehyun?” You asked gently. 
“I’m fine,” Jaehyun insisted as he got his breath back. “I just… can we not? Do that, specifically, I mean.”
You sat up on your knees, still perched over Jaehyun’s lap and frozen as you wondered where to go from here. 
“Jaehyun, baby,” you soothed as your hand gently cupped his face, “we can take a minute. We can stop.”
Jaehyun’s hands found your hips in the dark, gliding over them and pulling you close. “No, please,” he pleaded, his voice low in his throat and still coated with lust. “I can handle you.”
“That’s a strong choice of words,” you smirked, relieved to get the moment back when you caught Jaehyun’s fingers fumbling with the waistband of your skirt. He jolted as you slapped his hand off, getting his attention back so you could begin to unbutton his shirt. “Don’t be selfish,” you chided, “get mine, too.”
“Anything, princess,” he eagerly agreed, his fingers deftly plucking the buttons of your blouse open. Nevertheless, you grimaced at the pet name. 
“Call me something else,” you suggested, threading your fingers back through Jaehyun’s hair and tugging before letting them trail down to his exposed chest. You thumbed over his nipples and enjoyed how it made him squirm. His cock surged against you through his slacks. 
“Yes, baby,” he readily complied. “What now?” 
“Now you have to be patient,” you smiled. “If I don’t want to make you keep your hands to yourself, can you be good and sit still on your own?” Jaehyun eagerly shook his head. You slid down his lap a little, just enough to get your hands on his belt and unbuckle him. His breath caught in his throat as you got a hand around his warm length and his hands searched, reached, desperate for any other stimulation before he pulled you close to tug your bra down and hungrily tongue your nipples. Your grip massaged his cock at an agonizing pace, and Jaehyun was getting worked up much too fast to be dignified. 
“Please, baby,” he begged, “I need it. I need to fuck you.”
“Oh?” You laughed, “Since when?”
“For weeks now,” he wheezed. “I need you.”
“Really?” You grinned devilishly, lifting your hips just enough to pull your panties to the side, lewdly rubbing yourself to taunt him. He couldn’t take his eyes off you as you exposed yourself for him but wouldn’t let him have any. “You want to fuck me?”
“Please,” Jaehyun pathetically groaned, even more so as you took his turgid length in your hand and rubbed the head against your soaked heat. He tried in vain to keep from rutting up into your entrance. 
“Say it,” you commanded. 
“Say what?” Jaehyun desperately implored.
“Say thank you,” you grinned triumphantly, grinding your pussy down onto just the head of his cock as you roughly thumbed and pinched  his erect nipples. Jaehyun let his head fall back against the desk as you finally dipped him fully into you. You savored his shuddered groans of pleasure. Jaehyun still obediently kept his hands to himself, even as he uselessly babbled his endless thanks to you. “It’s so convenient,” you smirked, “having a good boy to keep his hands to himself on his own. It gives me a chance to get some work done around here.”
Jaehyun watched, captivated as your fingers dipped down to your clit and drew fervent circles in time with your pace on his cock. 
“Tell me you want to see it,” you ordered, breath ragged as you bounced hungrily on Jaehyun’s leaking cock. 
“See what?” Jaehyun panted, his fingers gripping tight to the edge of his desk. 
“Tell me you want to see me cum all over your nice suit,” you teased. 
Jaehyun moaned hard, cursing under his breath as he watched helplessly. “Please, baby,” he pleaded, “I want to see you cum.”
“Cum where?”
“I-I want to see you cum all over my nice suit,” Jaehyun confidently stammered. 
“Only if you fill me up,” you grinned valiantly. Your goading did the trick. Jaehyun’s head pressed back into the desk, his eyes screwed shut as yours did the same. Your body jolted, your pussy contracting and spasming on his spurting cock as you both cried out.  
Seemingly minutes later, you found yourself resting on Jaehyun’s chest, eyes groggily reopening as you let your thoughts fall back into place. You absently played with the bracelet around Jaehyun’s wrist where his hands had finally relinquished the desk, a simple and dainty set of chains that felt cool against the pads of your fingers. 
“Did you really want to do this for weeks?” You murmured into his chest. You cooperated as Jaehyun sat up with you in his arms. He gently buttoned your blouse back up, petted your hair back into place as he hazily nodded. 
“I did. I’ve wanted you, but I couldn’t bring myself to make that step. I guess I needed you to help me.”
“I’m glad I did,” you smiled modestly. Jaehyun pulled you close in his lap again, his nose buried into the crook of your neck. 
“And you were right.”
“Hmm?” You contentedly hummed. 
“You made me forget for a bit.”
You sat back, studying Jaehyun’s face for a sense of inflation or play, but found none. 
“Want me to do it again sometime?” The question was phrased lightly, but you meant it. If you could be with Jaehyun again, you would. He just had to want it. 
“Can you?”
[A companion series.]
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imagine-loki · 3 years
Text
Trust, Chapter 15
TITLE: Trust CHAPTER NO./ONE SHOT: Chapter 15 AUTHOR: fanficshiddles ORIGINAL IMAGINE: Imagine Loki kidnaps Darcy Lewis, in hopes of getting the tesseract in return for her. Imagine his surprise when he grows rather fond of the mortal, finding that she understands him better than anyone else ever has.  RATING: M
Jane was returned home with Thor, it had taken him a little while to find her wandering around in London.
Darcy was pissed that she didn’t thank Loki for saving her ass. And she called her out on it, multiple times. Jane kept using the excuse that he abandoned her in another city.
Darcy gave up when Loki told her she was wasting her breath. She knew it too, but it still bugged her.
‘I just don’t get why she can’t give you a chance! What more does she need you to do aside from literally save her fucking life?’ Darcy huffed and flopped down on the sofa next to Loki, who was reading a book. But ended up with Darcy planting her legs over his lap, ignoring the glare he gave her.
‘Sometimes there is just no pleasing anyone.’ Loki said casually, resting his book on her legs to continue reading.
‘Why is it not bothering you?’ Darcy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.
‘Because I’ve learned not to let such futile things, such as earning Jane’s appreciation, bother me anymore.’ He said calmly, turning a page.
Darcy huffed. ‘Surely getting revenge would be better.’
Loki paused and gave her the side eye, a smirk spreading across his face. ‘Revenge, you say?’
Darcy smirked back at him. ‘I thought you didn’t let futile things bother you anymore.’ She shrugged.
‘Well… I don’t, but I do love revenge in any form. Have anything in mind?’ Loki turned his full attention to her, his book vanishing.
‘I was hoping that’s where you’d come in handy. You are the trickster God after all.’ Darcy said, sitting up.
It didn’t take Loki long to think of something. A big grin spread across his face and Darcy knew that meant he had a plan.
-
Jane walked into the lab one afternoon, when she went over to her work area, she spotted a note along with some weird looking rock.
Dearest Jane
I brought this back from Vanaheim, I thought you’d like to study it. The Vanir say it is one of their rarest rocks, containing some of the strongest magic. But they have never discovered how it works yet.
Thor x
‘Oh wow!’ Jane excitedly grabbed everything she needed and abandoned her other work to study the rock.
It kept her occupied for hours. Loki and Darcy entered the lab as Loki needed to help Bruce with fixing a few things. Darcy glanced over at Jane and nudged Loki with her elbow.
He chuckled and leaned down towards Darcy. ‘I bet she spends all night studying that rock.’ He whispered.
‘I bet until at least afternoon tomorrow.’ Darcy whispered back.
Loki raised an eyebrow and looked down at her curiously. ‘Loser has to down a mug of Asgardian vodka and eat a raw egg?’ He suggested.
Darcy looked at him and contemplated it for a moment before putting her hand out. ‘Deal.’
‘Deal.’ He shook her hand with a nod.
‘What are you two up to?’ Tony asked as he walked in, it was never a good thing if Loki and Darcy were whispering to one another. Especially when they looked like they were up to no good.
‘Oh, nothing.’ Loki said innocently.
The following day, Loki was nervous as he kept watching the clock, causally passing by the lab now and then. He turned a corner in the corridor and was startled to find Darcy there, arms folded over her chest as she grinned up at him. 
‘You have two minutes, Loks. Better go pick an egg.’ She turned on her heels and headed off, laughing.
Loki muttered under his breath as he followed after her. His only hope was that it went into evening, then the bet was off as they would both be wrong.
It was well into the afternoon, but before evening, when Jane ended up leaving the lab and joining everyone in the living room. She looked exhausted, having been up all night. She flopped down on the sofa next to Thor.
‘I win!’ Darcy cheered, throwing her hands up in the air. She then poked Loki. ‘Go on, time to pay up.’
Loki rolled his eyes and begrudgingly got up and wandered to the kitchen.
‘What’s going on?’ Clint asked, looking at Darcy warily.
‘Come on. You guys aren’t gonna want to miss this!’ Darcy said excitedly as she rushed off after Loki.
The team looked at one another, completely confused. But they decided to go along anyway to see. They all hovered by the door, watching as Darcy took a front row seat opposite Loki at the table.
Everyone’s eyes widened when he poured a full large mug of vodka and then cracked an egg into a cup.
Darcy rested her face in her hands as she watched on in glee. Though she wasn’t sure what she was more excited about, watching Loki do the disgusting forfeit or the fact she didn’t have to do it. The straight vodka would’ve likely knocked her for six instantly before she even got to the egg.
‘What’s going on? Is that really a good idea?’ Bruce asked.
‘Nope. That’s why it’s going to be so good.’ Darcy said over her shoulder. ‘Loki lost a bet.’
‘What bet?’ Steve asked.
‘We took a bet on how long Jane would spend in the lab studying a rock.’ Said Darcy.
Loki wasn’t engaging in conversation, too busy focusing on what he was about to do. Even for him, a full mug of straight Asgardian vodka in one go would be… Interesting.
‘You bet on me?’ Jane asked, appalled. ‘Why?’
Darcy ignored her because Loki started downing the vodka.
Even Thor started to look uncomfortable already.
Once Loki finished after a couple of big gulps, he put the mug down and shook his head. Then he took a few deep breaths and swigged down the raw egg.
‘Ewww.’ Came from some of the team.
Darcy smacked her hands down on the table a few times. ‘Brilliant!’
‘I have to say, I am so glad that Darcy won this bet.’ Natasha laughed as Loki’s eyes went a bit funny.
‘Shut it, Romafoof.’ Loki slurred slightly then hiccuped, unsure if it was from the big volume of vodka being drank in one go so quickly or the disgusting egg.
Darcy completely lost it at Natasha’s new nickname.
‘Will someone tell me what is going on? Why were you betting on me and how did you even know about the rock that Thor gave me?’ Jane asked loudly.
‘What rock?’ Thor frowned.
Jane looked up at Thor, confused as hell.
‘It was a rock from out back, Loki added some effects to make it look other worldly.’ Darcy laughed as she turned to the team.
Jane’s eyes widened. ‘You mean I’ve spent all bloody day and night trying to research some damn rock from outside?’ She screeched.
‘YeP!’ Loki made sure to pop the P as he chuckled at her annoyance.
Jane then stormed out of the room and Thor rushed after her.
‘Oh geez.’ Clint face-palmed.
Darcy heard a small thud, she spun around to Loki again to see his face down on the table.
‘Thank god I didn’t lose if this is the effect that the vodka and egg is having on you.’ Darcy said as she went over to try and help him get to his room.
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terreisa · 3 years
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Love Down the Line: Chapter 8
The last thing Indie musician Emma Swan needs is a gigantic wrench thrown in the workings of her biggest tour to date weeks before its launch.  When her backing guitarist that caused the problem says she has the perfect solution Emma is skeptical but left with little choice but to accept.  Unfortunately she isn’t really prepared for said solution to be former Rock Star and leading man of Emma’s teenage fantasies, Killian Jones.  With no other options and a month of performing across the country ahead of her Emma just hopes she doesn’t come to regret letting Killian onto her stage and into her life.
Ch 1, Ch 2, Ch 3, Ch 4, Ch 5, Ch 6, Ch 7, AO3
~*CS*~
Denver, May 20th
“Have you slept with him yet?”
Emma choked on the bite of grilled cheese she had unfortunately tried to swallow just as Tink asked her question.  They were in their hotel room having arrived only an hour before after a brutal thirteen hour drive from Dallas.  She’d had every intention of vegging out and watching the ubiquitous middle of the night marathon of Unsolved Mysteries until she passed out from exhaustion.  Tink’s out of the blue question derailed those plans completely.
Though, she had to admit she’d been waiting for Tink to ask something like that since Chicago.
Ever since the afternoon the bus broke down things had shifted between her and Killian.  She had never considered herself to be a touchy feely person but for some reason with him she couldn’t help but inch closer when they were sitting side by side, or find reasons to brush her hand against his, or a million other little casual touches that seemed to thrill her and ground her all at once.  It wasn’t just her either.  Killian was just as guilty at seeking her out and drawing her close.  He was much less subtle about it than her and to her own surprise she didn’t mind one bit.
Of course, that was when they were around other people.  Whenever they found a moment alone, however, things grew heated quickly.  She’d been pulled into more alcoves, behind stacks of equipment, down empty hallways, and up to more roofs for quick but toe curling make out sessions than she could count.  Not that she wasn’t guilty of doing the same to him and enjoying every second of it.
One thing they hadn’t done was actually talk about what it was that they were to each other.  There had been plenty of opportunities, seeing as they’d found more than enough time to drag each other into dark corners, but Emma had hesitated each time.  The question of what it was they were doing was constantly on the tip of her tongue but she always bit it back.  It wasn’t just her feelings on the line, though they were a major part of it, but there was the rest of the tour to consider.  They were only halfway through and Ruby hadn’t called to tell her that she was ready to play again.  If she gave things with Killan a real, no holds barred chance and they went south the fallout would be huge.  It didn’t help that the tension between them was ratcheting up to ridiculous levels and she knew that he was waiting for her to decide whether to pull back or push forward.  She just didn’t know if she had the strength to do either.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she said, trying for nonchalance but unable to when she was still coughing.
“Emma,” Tink said exasperatedly, her hands going to her hips, “You can deny all you want but you’re not fooling me.  I’ve read about this over and over again to recognize the signs.”
“Romance books aren’t instruction manuals,” she scoffed, “And there aren’t any signs because there’s nothing going on between me and Killian.”
Tink smirked in triumph, “I’m going to ignore that you insulted my reading habits because I never said who I was talking about.”
Emma sighed in resignation.  She had thought they were being careful but she should have known that Tink, of all people, would have picked up on the shift in whatever it was she had with Killian.  For Tink and her belief in all things love, romance books actually were instruction manuals.
“So have you?”
“No, nosey, I haven’t and I’m not going to-” she took a large bite of her sandwich to hopefully help cover up the giant lie she’d just told.  Tink narrowed her eyes at her so she swallowed quickly to explain, “We’re just friends.  I didn’t think we would be but you know how it is on a tour.  It’s how you learned to tolerate Will for more than an hour.  It’s the same with Killian.  Friends.  That’s it.”
Tink merely stood there, looking at her.
“What?” She snapped, throwing her hands up in exasperation. “Okay, so I’ve been spending a lot of time with him or whatever.  He’s got a lot of stories and knows a lot of tricks for the road.  Did you know that he still checks into hotels with an alias?  Like a spy movie?  He said it’s so that someone doesn’t tip off the paparazzi but I think he’s more afraid of his fan club showing up.  I guess there was one time some girl was hiding in the closet of his hotel room before he even got there because he’d used his real name.  He uses James Barrie, you know, the guy that wrote Peter Pan?  It’s his favorite book and- why are you looking at me all smug and shit?”
“Do you even hear the words you’re saying?” Tink laughed. “Are you trying to convince me or yourself?  It’s not a bad thing, Emma.  He’s a good guy and he really likes you, has since the beginning.”
“He has?” She asked, surprised.
“Oh my god,” Tink said, rolling her eyes, “You can’t be that oblivious.  Yes, dummy!  I could write my own best seller with all the yearning looks and doey eyes you both make at each other.”
“I don’t yearn,” she grumbled, finishing off her sandwich.
Tink giggled as she pulled out her phone.  Emma frowned when she noticed that Tink was fully dressed, shoes and all.
“Going somewhere?”
“Huh?  Oh, yeah,” Tink said distractedly, her thumbs tapping on the screen.  She looked up smiling, “My old roommate from college runs one of the local radio stations here and we’re going out for drinks and some dancing.  Hey, wanna come?”
Emma looked down at the terrycloth robe she was wrapped in and felt the bone deep exhaustion from a series of good but tiring shows pulling at her, “Nope, I’m done in.  I’m going to finish my onion rings, destroy Ruby in another round of Words with Friends and pass out to the soothing tones of Robert Stack.”
“Well, if you change your mind just let me know,” Tink said cheerfully.
With that she left in a flurry of sequins and an almost noxious cloud of perfume.
Emma snuggled down into her bed, ecstatic with the sudden freedom she had in the room.  She got along fine with Tink but she’d never really gotten used to sharing her space with someone else.  Even when she’d shared an apartment with Ruby it had been a steep learning curve that she’d never gotten the hang of.
Revelling in being alone she got down to the business of doing exactly what she’d described to Tink.  Just as she’d sent off a triple word scoring ‘kumquat’ to pull substantially ahead of Ruby there was a quiet rapping on her door.  Confused and a little worried that something might be wrong she padded across the room and warily looked through the peephole.  Seeing Killian’s distorted face on the other side simultaneously sent a wave of relief and a thrill of anticipation through her.  She pulled the door open with a grin she didn’t even try to hide.
“What brings you to my neck of the woods?” She asked quietly, knowing the other guests on her floor were probably asleep.
Killian shrugged and then scratched behind his ear, “Er, I was making use of the twenty four business center to give Will and his girlfriend a bit of privacy-”
“Oh, Belle’s here?” Emma asked excitedly before she realized what Killian was implying. “Oh, that’s, uh, nice of you.”
“I can be generous at times,” he said sardonically.  Then he began fidgeting again, tapping on the cover of the notebook in his hand with his thumb, “As I was saying, Tink saw me and when I told her my plans for the night she insisted that I make use of her bed instead.”
She stood blinking at him, trying to make sense of his words but only one thing stood out, “Your plans?”
“Aye-” he scratched behind his ear again and wouldn’t meet her eyes, “You see Belle is only here for the night and has a flight early tomorrow morning and considering how, er, enthusiastic Will’s greeting was I told them the room was theirs.”
“And where were you going to sleep?” She asked, narrowing her eyes and hoping he wouldn’t say-
“The bus?”
“Jesus, Killian,” she pinched the bridge of her nose and stepped back, “Get in here.”
He walked into the room but only far enough for the door to close.  When she turned around he refused to move further and they stood toe to toe.
“It’s honestly not an issue for me to sleep on the bus for the night, Swan.  I have done it many times before.”
“So have I and it sucks every time-” she pushed past him but grabbed onto his wrist and dragged him along with her, “You should have come here in the first place.  Even if Tink wasn’t going out we have a perfectly uncomfortable floor for you to use.  I guess you’ll just have to settle for this queen sized quilted mattress instead.”
“Har, har, love,” he said drolly as she let go of him next to the still made bed and proceeded to crawl back into the nest of pillows and blankets she’d accumulated on hers. “That looks cozy.”
“You should see my bed back home,” she said absently as she made herself comfortable.  Then she realized what she’d said as heat crawled up her neck and into her cheeks and Killian raised his brow at her, “Not that I’m inviting you over.  I mean, you can come over but not only to see my bed or you know, you don’t have to see the bed at all.  Whatever, it’s up to you.”
Killian chuckled and said in a low, teasing voice, “Up to me, huh?  And if I said I wanted to see the bed?”
Emma froze.  She knew that as much as he meant it as a joke he also meant it in the way he was implying.  Suddenly Tink’s earlier teasing seemed all too real.  The truth was she wanted everything the women Tink’s precious books got, the blissfully happy ending filled with love, respect and the added bonus of phenomenal sex.  With butterflies the size of seagulls in her stomach she looked at him and hoped that she wasn’t about to make a complete ass of herself or end up with her heart shattered into a million pieces.
“Just the bed or are you interested in the whole place?  Leaky faucets, thin walls and all?”
“I, erm-” Killian tilted his head, his brow knit in confusion.
“Because, yeah, the bed’s great and all but I think the rest of the apartment is pretty good too.  It might not look like it but it is,” she said vehemently and a tiny bit defensively.
“I’m sure it is,” he said slowly.  His eyes darted between hers as though he was trying to read her thoughts, “What is it you’re trying to say, Swan?”
She knew she was being unfair and a bit of a coward by making him try to puzzle it out.  The only time she liked to be vulnerable was in her music and even then it could be an uncomfortable stretch.  Opening herself up to Killian had the potential for disaster but the patient, dare she say doey eyed, look on his face gave her the small dose of encouragement she needed.
“Do you want to want to go out to dinner?”
“Now?” He asked bewildered, throwing a look at her empty room service tray on the room’s table and grinned, “It’s nearly two in the morning, love.”
“No, not now,” she said patiently. “Tomorrow, before the show.  Go out, like, on a date or something.”
Killian’s amused smile softened and he ducked his head, “Shouldn’t I be the one asking you?”
“Figures you’d be old fashioned,” she said with a relieved laugh, “Get with the times, Jones.  So, do you?”
“Want to go on a date?  I’d love nothing more,” he said, his gaze flitting back to the tray and then to the tv that was still showing Unsolved Mysteries, “Though I do have one request.”
“Which is?”
“Allow me to plan the evening?”
The earnestness of his question took her by surprise.  Since she’d done the asking she’d planned on doing a quick Yelp search for a higher rated restaurant and calling it good.  From the hopeful way he was looking at her she suspected that he’d already been thinking about what to do on a date with her.  She could feel a warmth surging through her at the idea that he had been piecing together date plans for them already.
“I know how to plan a date,” she said with a small pout even though she was far from upset.
“You know how to astound a packed venue in any city, I know how to plan an evening out in every city,” he said with a confidence she found impressive.
“Fine,” she said with a shrug.  Burrowing back into her pillows and blankets she looked at him askance, “Just so you know I don’t rock and roll on the first date.”
He snorted in amusement, “Well, you’ve never been on a date with me.”
Emma gave him a skeptical hum and delighted at his warm chuckle.  She watched surreptitiously as he toed off his shoes and placed his notebook on the bedside table, noting for the first time that he was in sweats and a hoodie.  When he pulled a couple of pens out of his pocket and placed them on the notebook she couldn’t help the giggle that escaped.
“You wouldn’t be laughing at me now, would you Swan?” He asked with a raised brow, crossing his arms over his chest.
“Just wondering how much you expected to get done in a hotel business center in the middle of the night that you thought you needed more than one pen,” she teased, reaching her hand out to nudge the pens out of alignment.
He huffed and lined them back up, “Terrible thing to run out of ink when trying to get down the lyrics cycling through your head, love.  I’d think you’d understand.”
“You’re writing again?” She asked, scrambling to sit up.
“Oh, er-” he scratched at the back of his neck as his ears began to turn pink, “Nothing of note, really, just some fragments that might have potential.  Or they could end up being rubbish but I should write them down, though, rubbish and all.  Not that I need to write or anything and I am out of the habit so what little I’ve got probably doesn’t hold a candle to anything you could write-”
“Killian-” she reached out and grabbed the sleeve of his sweatshirt, giving it a little shake to interrupt his rambling, “I’m not asking to look at what you’ve got.  I get it, it’s all private until you’ve got it to a point that it’s not so much anymore.  I was just… surprised I guess?  I haven’t seen you credited as a songwriter since the accident so I stupidly assumed you hadn’t written anything since.”
“No, love, your assumption is actually quite spot on,” he sighed.  His gaze drifted back to the notebook and he glared at it, as though it had personally insulted him, “It’s been an uphill battle to get back into it after all this time.”
“Then don’t,” she said with a shrug, letting him go and sliding back under the covers, “No one’s making you, right?”
He made a kind of strangled sound that had her looking over at him.  His ears were turning pink again but he shook his head. 
“So don’t force it.  It’ll be like riding a bike once you’ve actually got something worth writing about.”
“I’m sure it will be,” he said with a small chuckle.
She gave him a satisfied nod but as he began to pull back the covers on the other bed she surprised herself by making a small sound of disappointment.  He looked at her with a raised brow.
“Something wrong?”
“No, I just-” she paused, not entirely sure what she wanted to say.  She’d already opened herself up much more than she ever had with one person before and didn’t think she had it in her to keep going.  There was, however, something else she wanted to do.  Sliding over a bit she flipped back the covers and tilted her head to the spot next to her, “Want to see what late night tv looks like in Denver?”
Killian stood unmoving except for a slight tick in his jaw.  Disappointment crashed through her.  She hadn’t realized just how much she wanted to be close to him, even if it didn’t lead anywhere.  Clenching her fists she forced herself to remember that he’d just agreed to a date and was clearly interested in something with her.  Taking a deep breath she gave what she hoped was a casual enough shrug, smoothing the covers back into place and fixing her gaze on the tv.
“Or not.  I’ll, uh, keep the volume down.  Still a bit wired, you know?”
She kept her eyes glued to the terrible reenactment that was happening on screen and tried to ignore the living statue that Killian had become.  Even when she heard his harsh exhale and low chuckle she continued to look forward.  When he tugged the covers out from under her arm her resolve faltered.
“Budge over a bit more, love?” He requested as he climbed into the bed next to her.   She gaped at him and he gave her a soft smile, “Do you want the light on or off?”
“What?” She said dumbly, the heat radiating off of him clearly addling her brains.
“I think for a true cinematic experience the light should be off but perhaps that will only serve to make it harder to stay awake, though I think that’s the point?”
She snorted, “Do you get more wordy the later it gets or are you just trying to be an ass?”
“A bit of both I suppose,” he said gleefully, “So, on or off?”
“Off,” she said quickly before she could second guess herself.
The sound of the lamp clicking off somehow sounded like a thunderclap.  As she let her eyes adjust to the dim blue light of the tv she was hyper aware of Killian next to her.  She could tell that he’d taken a shower before leaving his and Will’s room since the smell of his soap and deodorant was still strong.  Fighting against the urge to bury her nose in his chest she didn’t realize he had asked her a question until he nudged her with his elbow.
“Huh?”
“Falling asleep already?  Good I can watch whatever I want then.”
“I don’t think so-” she quickly grabbed the remote and held it out of his reach, “I’m not going to sit through some documentary on pirates or Ancient Greece or whatever.”
“I mentioned once that I like Ken Burns and you use that against me?  Bad form, Swan,” he grumbled, though she could hear the smile in his voice.
“We’ll go through the channels once and then we pick something,” she said as she started flipping through channels, “We each get one veto but we’re not watching something that has to do with what we do.”
He turned to her, “Does that encompass the entertainment industry as a whole or merely our melodic neck of the woods?  Because it sounds like you’re using a loophole to get more than one veto.”
“That’s not what-” she paused on a fast food commercial and sighed, “I actually want to be able to unwind at the end of the night and if we watch something music industry related I’ll start thinking about the next show and if it’ll be as good as the shows before it, or how we’re releasing Snowdrops and Buttercups before the LA show and all the interviews I’ll have to do while we’re there, or how Regina keeps hounding me to increase my social media presence to ‘stay relevant’.  If you want to count that as my veto that’s fine.”
She could feel the weight of Killian’s stare but she kept her focus on the insurance commercial that had replaced the fast food ad.  Tink and Ruby had never complained about her taking control of what they ended up watching at the end of the night.  Then again they’d always put on Food Network and kept it there so it had never been an issue.
“Alright-” Killian nodded and wiggled a bit, bringing him closer to her side, “Nothing industry related.  What about musicals?”
“Big fan?” She asked, turning to him with a smile that was due to more than just his teasing question.
“The biggest,” he said with mock seriousness.  He turned back to the screen, “but you haven’t even got to the premium channels yet, love.  Can’t make a decision without knowing all my options.  Carry on.”
They ended up going through the channels three times and Emma using her veto on a cheesy nineties horror movie.  Through sheer luck and good timing they paused on a channel to argue over her veto right as the commercials came to an end and the next program was starting.  By the time they realized what was playing Marty McFly was skateboarding through Hill Valley to the sound of Huey Lewis and the News.  With a grin to match Killian’s she tossed the remote towards their feet and settled comfortably into his side without a second thought.
She came awake with a start to a darkened room an undetermined amount of time later.  Confused and overly warm she tried to turn to look at the clock on the bedside table and found that she couldn’t due to the arm wrapped around her waist.  After a brief moment of panic she remembered whose arm it was and why it was there in the first place.
“Swan?” Killian’s voice was gritty with sleep.
“I missed the enchantment under the sea dance,” she mumbled disappointedly.
He chuckled and it reverberated across her back, “Love, you didn’t even make it to Doc Brown’s house in 1955.”
“Oh-” she blinked owlishly in the dark and blamed it for the question that tripped off her tongue, “Why didn’t you move to the other bed?”
Killian’s arm tensed around her middle.  She held her breath waiting for his answer.
“You asked me to stay,” he said simply.
A vague memory of her doing just that surfaced in her still sleep addled mind.  Wiggling a bit until his grip on her loosened she turned to face him.  She could barely make out his features as her eyes adjusted to the dark but from what she could see he seemed wary but hopeful.
“I’m glad you listened.”
Slowly, so that he would have time to stop her, she leaned up and forward, gently pressing her lips to his.  He made a noise of contentment, returning her kiss for only a moment before pulling back and pressing his forehead to hers.
“I think I should go to the other bed.”
“Why?” She breathed.  The darkness of the room made her feel bold as she snaked her arm between them to rest on his chest, the tips of her fingers toying with the collar of his t-shirt. “I still want you to stay.”
He groaned, “Swan, I’m trying to be a gentleman.”
“Oh, so you’re a gentleman now?” She teased, ghosting her lips over his.
“I’m always a gentleman,” he retorted, as his hand drifted down to her hip and flexed, as though he wasn’t sure if he wanted to push her away or pull her closer, “but you’re making it bloody difficult.  What happened to not rocking and rolling on the first date?”
“You’re right-” she nodded, pulling her head back but inching their hips closer together, “Good thing this isn’t our first date.”
His hand gripped her hip and held her in place as his eyes searched her face.  She gave him a sultry smile as he looked, drawing idle patterns on his chest with her fingers.  It was easy for her to see that he was trying to figure out why she had gone from zero to sixty in the span of a few hours.  Deciding to go easy on him she let her smile soften and moved to brush the hair off his forehead.
“Emma-”
“It’s no secret that I’ve had the hots for you since the leather pants and emo eyeliner-” she broke off at his wide grin and wagging eyebrows to roll her eyes at him, “Please, I know Ruby told you all about my obsession.”
“She may have let some things slip,” he said with a mischievous look, “Is it true you had a photo of me as your phone background?”
“Well, you looked really hot in that photoshoot for Men’s Health,” she stated without shame, though she couldn’t help knocking his ego down a peg, “Even if you totally lied about running five miles a day.”
“I might as well have with the shows we put on every night,” he grumbled. “So you read the article as well?  Good to know you were interested in more than just my pretty face.”
“I’m a fan of every part of you,” she said simply. “Even more now.  Definitely more now.  I’ve gotten to know you, as a musician and as a man, and turns out I really like you.  You get me in ways that no one else ever has, not Regina or Ruby or even the Nolans.  You make me feel like anything I want is possible and I want you in every possible way.  One date or a hundred won’t change that.  Plus I really, really like kissing you.”
“I rather fancy you too,” he said softly, his hand running up her side to cup her cheek, “But are you sure?”
“If I wasn’t I would have made you get in the other bed in the first place or just sent you down to the bus-” she leaned forward and nipped playfully at his lower lip.  When she pulled away he made a low noise in his throat, “I’m sure.”
“Good.”
With a low growl Killian surged forward and captured her lips.  Emma let herself fall into the kiss and thanked her lucky stars that Tink had given them both the little nudge they clearly needed.
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saywhatjessie · 4 years
Text
forgot all prayers (of joining you)
15x08 coda, 2.2k (Ao3)
The portal was only going to stay open for twelve hours.
There was no time for this.
Nothing mattered, not the feelings that came back to Dean – fear, relief, yearning (always the yearning) – not the logistics of how the fuck they were supposed to find some obscure fucking flower in all of purgatory. Not the anxiety or hope of seeing Benny again. Not even leaving Sammy a note.
There was no time for this.
He left Sammy a note anyway when he couldn’t get him on the phone: 
Gone to Purgatory with Cas to find a flower for the spell Michael gave us. Don’t touch the portal. Or my beer. 
-Dean
Sam was probably fine. He had Eileen to take care of him and he had her to take care of. They could entertain themselves until he and Cas got back.
They weren’t being paired off like animals on the ark. That was a weird thing for Dean to think.
There was no time for this.
Dean and Cas stepped through the portal, close but not touching. Not even a casual brush of sleeves or Dean putting a hand on Cas’s shoulder to steady him. Dean’s hand flexed while he fought the impulse. He wasn’t allowed to do that right now. Not that he wanted to – he wasn’t thinking about it. It was just different than what he was used to. 
Like Cas healing Dean without touching him. Dean hadn’t thought he’d associated being healed with the warm and calloused pressure of Cas’s hand until it wasn’t there. His skin stitched closed but it felt like something was missing. Like he wasn’t actually healed. Not really.
There was no time for this, goddammit.
Benny was waiting for them on the other side of the portal.
“Thought this might be you, brother,” he said, devilish smile half quirked on his face, his impromptu purgatory weapon slung over his shoulder. “Welcome back to my humble abode.”
Dean couldn’t help it: he smiled. He reached for Benny, bringing him into a hug. Benny laughed into his shoulder, his own hands coming up to clap Dean on the back. He smelled to Dean like dirt and sweat and monster blood. Which, of course, meant he smelled a lot like Benny and even more like freedom.
He pulled away and Benny clapped him again on the shoulder before turning to Cas. He didn’t extend a hug or even a hand but he did nod. “Castiel. Glad to see y’all found your way back to each other.”
The way that was phrased made Dean go slightly hot and slightly itchy. Benny saw them better than most, having seen them in Purgatory. He’d seen Dean frantic with worry for Cas, praying and searching for Cas for an entire year. He’d seen them by that river. 
But they didn’t have time for this.
“Sorry to say, Benny,” he started. “But this isn’t a personal call.”
“Wouldn’t think it was,” Benny said, his cajun drawl really very comforting. “Not that I don’t love having y’all here but purgatory doesn’t really love having y’all here. A beacon went up as soon as that portal opened” He gestured at the portal and above but Dean didn’t see any kind of beacon. Maybe it was just for monsters. “I got em all before you could come through and I’ve been guardin’ it for ya.”
Dean couldn’t help but grin again. “Kind of you.”
“Ain’t no thing,” he answered back, casually. “Just let me know what you need.”
“Just,” Cas said, speaking for the first time and looking warily at the portal. “Maybe a bit farther from here.”
Dean nodded, looking away when Cas turned to look back at him. Benny looked between them with narrowed eyes.
Dean clapped his hands together to punctuate the moment. “Let’s walk and talk.”
Dean told Benny about the situation upstairs. Well, was Purgatory downstairs from Earth? Sideways? Whichever. He gave him the news on the ground.
Benny nodded along, grunting in confirmation at various points, and then, when Dean was done, Benny gestured between Dean and Cas. “So what’s the deal with this?”
“ Nothing ,” Dean said, maybe a bit more exasperatedly than he needed to. But he was tired of the questions: Sammy asked about it, then Rowena called it a ‘tiff’. It was fine. Well, it wasn’t fine, but it wasn’t anyone else’s business. “It’s not important,” he said instead which sounded, if possible, worse. “Let’s just focus on this fucking flower, okay?”
Benny shrugged. “You say so, brother. But I already know where this flower is.”
Dean spun to look at him. “What, really?”
Benn nodded. “Yes, sir. And I’ll get it for you. But you boys,” he gestured between Dean and Cas again. “Are staying here.”
Dean snorted. “What, and let you go off alone? No way.”
“I’ve been alone for a while, now, cher. I know how it works. It’s safer for me to go alone than have you two coming along with me, attracting every monster we pass. Better for you two to stay put.”
Cas started to protest, too. “I don’t know if–”
Benny held up a hand and, amazingly, Cas fell silent. “My house, my rules. We’re far enough from the portal now that you shouldn’t meet too much trouble. At least for long enough for me to get this flower and come back. But if you do–”
“Don’t worry,” Dean interrupted. He pulled out his purgatory blade that he’d been keeping safe in his bedroom at the bunker. “I’ve got us covered.”
Benny grinned. “That’s my boy! Now you two sit tight.” His smile turned more into a smirk. “Maybe you can work out whatever’s wrong between ya. Lord knows being back in the place where we searched for his feathered ass for an entire year should help.” He looked meaningfully at Dean until Dean’s ears turned red. Then he winked. “Back in a shake.”
He trotted off, whistling as he went, and leaving Dean and Cas standing together, avoiding eye contact, and unsure where to go from here.
Dean cleared his throat. “Look, man, if we’re just waiting around, we don’t both need to be here.”
“I’m not going to leave you here at the mercy of every monster in spitting distance by yourself,” Cas answered, firmly, but not looking at Dean. “But you’re right, we don’t both need to–”
“I’m not leaving you either, pal.”
Neither of them knew what to say after that.
Dean sighed, heading for the nearest tree and plopping down against it. He hadn’t brought a flask – hadn’t thought he’d needed one – so he pulled out his blade and started sharpening it against a rock, just for something to do.
Dean watched in his peripheral vision as Cas hesitated before making his way over to Dean’s tree and sitting down next to him, back to the bark, close enough to help defend him but not close enough to touch.
So close and yet so far. Dean hated that expression.
There was time for this now. Nothing but time. Dean could think about this. He could remember being in purgatory the last time and being able to focus on nothing but finding Cas, getting to Cas, being with Cas. Even before he knew there was a way out, Cas was his priority. If he was going to spend the rest of forever in purgatory, he’d be damned if he couldn’t do it with Cas at his side.
But Cas was at his side now. But not totally. Not all the way. Not like they’d been.
But Purgatory had done a lot to fix what was broken in them before. Maybe Benny was right: it could do that now.
“I wasn’t expecting you to come back,” Dean said, eyes fixed on his blade. “You sounded like you were serious about moving on.”
“I was,” Cas answered, voice gravelly. No nonsense. “When I said that, I had no intention of ever coming back.” His voice was flat and inflectionless, sounding like it had when Dean had first met him in that barn all those years ago. That didn’t make it hurt any less. “Things change.”
Dean nodded. Things change . Like Chuck comes back and Lilith comes back and the world is ending again. The world is always ending. They’ve never been allowed to just be.
Except here.
“I was surprised to see you, is all,” Dean continued. “When I got back from my hunt.”
“Your hunt,” Cas repeated. No inflection. No curiosity. Just affirming Dean had been on a hunt.
“It wasn’t a fun one,” Dean said, not knowing where he was going but needing to say it. “Ran into an old friend.”
Cas grunted.
“I say friend,” Dean continued, voice strained. “He was a little different than that. He was a hunter. Dad loved him: best fighter he’d ever seen. Lee.” Dean swallowed. “I had to kill him.”
The silence hung on those words. Dean’s grief. His exhaustion. Dean wasn’t even sure Cas was listening.
But then Cas spoke, softer than he’d been before. “I’m sorry, Dean.”
Dean let out a gasp, half laugh, half broken sob. “Yeah.”
Dean had forgotten how real and close emotions were when he was here. When he was this close to Cas. When there was nothing between them but time.
He wasn’t saying any of this right. His words weren’t working. He couldn’t make his mouth cooperate.
But maybe…
I loved him . Dean thought. But not like a thought for himself. A thought for Cas. He prayed and the prayer was the words Dean couldn’t say. I loved him and that scared me. And I resented him because he was a better son for my dad than I was and I hated him because he loved me back and I didn’t know what to do with that. And I hate him now because he hurt me. He made me feel like we could be okay, that everything could be okay. That I could leave the life and open a bar and sing rock songs in front of a crowd of people who will cheer for me. That they could cheer for me and this other guy being together and being happy. He made me want these things and think I could have these things and then he made me kill him. And I can’t have those things. And I don’t know how to deal with that.
Dean didn’t know if this was working. He didn’t know if this would be enough of a prayer for Cas to hear him. But he couldn’t stop.
It hurt. I was so knocked down, and then I saw you, back at the bunker. I saw you came back home. And I didn’t know what to do with that either. Because I am so goddamn lucky to have you in my life, Cas. I’m so happy and lucky that you’ve put up with me for so long. When you told me you were done, I was expecting it. I’ve been waiting for you to be done with me for years. Because I don’t deserve you.
Dean swallowed, tears welling up in his eyes. He felt weak and cowardly not being able to say these things out loud. Even now after everything. Even here, in purgatory, which was kind of like their place. Cas deserved to hear them out loud.
Dean took a deep breath, leaning his head back against the tree and closing his eyes, his blade gripped loosely in his lap, forgotten.
There is no excuse for what an asshole I’ve been to you. Telling you I was pushing you away so I had a reason when you finally left isn’t enough. Telling you I had to keep you at arms distance because I was afraid what would happen if I got too close isn’t enough. I took out my grief for mom and my anger at Chuck on you and you didn’t deserve that. You deserve so much better – better than me, better than this garbage world, better than any of it.
But I love you too, Cas. And you deserve to know that. Not just when one of us is dying. Not just when I tell you we’re family. But for real. Owning a bar together real.
I’m sorry for never telling you that. I’m sorry I can’t say it out loud now.
I’m sorry I’m not good enough. I’m sorry I’ve never treated you like you deserve.
I’m sorry I’ve pushed you away. I’m sorry I couldn’t let you go.
I’m sorry you’ve shown time and time again that you’ll give anything for me and I haven’t shown you the same.
I’m sorry about Jack. I’m sorry about the angels. I’m sorry about your grace. I’m sorry about God.
I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’m sorry I’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorryI’msorry
Dean’s thoughts were interrupted by Cas’s hand moving on his, turning his palm face up so he could hold it in his.
“I’m sorry.” Dean said, his voice a grunted whisper.
Cas didn’t say ‘I know’ or ‘It’s okay’.
He didn’t say ‘I forgive you,’ or ‘I love you, too’.
He squeezed Dean’s hand. ‘I hear you’, said with a clasping of fingers rather than a movement of lips.
Dean opened his eyes and turned to look at Cas. Cas, for the first time in months, was looking back.
Dean felt like he could breathe again. He was healed.
They had nothing but time for this.
It was a start.
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