People Are Crazy!

Alright y’all, the time has finally come!  This blog is going dormant and the new multi-muse blog is finally ready!  *Celebration plays in the background*

Because this message is long (and I know some of y’all’s dashes are about to get flooded) everything else will be under the ‘Read More.’  ^_^

leatherandsoil​:

“Do you have taste?” 

Now that was an interesting question.  One that Paul figured he should chalk up to the alcohol. Still…they hadn’t had THAT much.  Not to where Dean should be rambling.  And yet…he’d asked.  Looking for reassurance, probably.  Well, Paul could certainly do that. 

“I do, actually.” he said, offering him a sweet, sincere smile. Now was not the time for a guffaw or a smirk.  Dean had asked the question in all seriousness, and he deserved a serious answer.  "I happen to have excellent taste.  I’m friends with you, aren’t I?“  Yes, it was cheesy and corny, and would normally earn him an elbow in the ribs.  But he meant every word. Dean was a GOOD man. Good to his customers, good to his employees, good to his friends.  Hell, good to random people on the street.  More than once, when faced with a situation, Paul asked himself what Dean would think of him if he did one thing or the other.  The best memories he could recall to mind?  Dean was always present.  The man was the benchmark for so many good things in his life, the measuring stick against which he judged everything else.  And so far, Dean was always on top.  Which was an unfortunate bit of phrasing his traitorous brain chose to pounce on. That and…

 "Bet you taste like that fancy coffee you drink all the time.” And really, he probably did.  Likely as not, pumpkin spice something right now.  Cinnamon, clove, cream, coff…Paul’s mind came to a screeching halt as Dean’s eyes widened just a tiny bit.  Oh shit. Oh SHIT he’d said that OUT LOUD.

Dean’s feelings about the answer he wanted Paul to give him were mixed… or more like jumbled up in one enormous knot.  A part of him wanted his friend to laugh the question off… to not notice (or pretend not to notice) how loaded it actually was.  Another part of him desperately wanted an honest answer.  Wanted to know exactly how Paul felt about him.  He sensed himself tense up as his friend started to speak… and then quickly relaxed as the answer registered.  ‘I’m friends with you…’  His heart was racing.  ‘What about more than that?  More than friends?’ he wanted to ask… but didn’t dare.

It was Lucy’s betrayal - losing her - that was making him act this way…  Him and Paul… it wouldn’t work.  Couldn’t work.  If things went bad (like they always seemed to) Dean would lose one of the last good things he still had in his life.  It would destroy him.  Without a doubt. 

   Yeah, he wasn’t kidding. This might have just been a bit of flashy showmanship on her part, but real mystical items? God, they weren’t the sort of things that a person should underestimate. 

   “Should.” she confessed. “Full stomach h-helps with a lot of shit.” the young woman added. But no, he wasn’t imagining anything. The soda did help, and thankfully always seemed to help. She didn’t know what she would do if she ever got to the point where it didn’t and she had to find some other way to bounce back.

   Best not to worry about that at the moment, though. There was plenty of other shit to think about.

   “Mm, s’true. I’m hoping it isn’t a large group.” she mused. “But we at least have a starting p-point now. I’ll see what I can fine o-on the magic side of things in the morning…or tonight, if my head decides to work properly again. We’ll get this s-sorted, I’m sure of it. Two heads and all that…” 

   She nodded a bit at his question. “Course. Wouldn’t m-make you try to find a place to crash now.” she assured him. It wasn’t like she needed the space for anything pressing, after all.

   The car came to a stop in the alley behind her shop, Wynter slipping out of the passenger side with the ease and grace of a newborn giraffe. Thank christ she was at least able to stay up on her own two feet. 

   “Dunno if I-I’d consider it bragging, really.” she confessed with a bit of a chuckle. It was almost kind of sad…He’d seen so much shit over the course of his life that a vengeful ghost cursing folks and shit, was just barely a blip on his radar. It had to get tiring, doing that kind of work day in and day out. She at least had the shop to help break things up, a life outside of the occasional hunt that she took on. 

   Dean didn’t have that and fuck, she felt kinda sorry for him as a result. 

   She got the door, letting him in ahead of her, before she got it all locked up and sealed for the night. Oof…yeah, no fancy extra warding tonight, just the base shit so she didn’t drain herself any further. Toby could keep an eye on the place, if nothing else. She just needed to eat and sleep. Maybe try to get a little more work done in regards to the case, but the more she thought about it, the less likely that was to happen.

   Up in the apartment, she all but collapsed into her seat, a soft sigh escaping her. Home sweet home. “I figure we’ll pick this up in the morning.” she breathed, rubbing a hand over her face. “Hopefully b-between the two of us, we’ll be able to figure out the curse…or some way to track who has been c-cursed. And i-if we need it, I might be able to get some extra h-hands involved.”

He might’ve relaxed just a little when Wynter said he could stay.  Yeah, she didn’t seem the type to leave anyone high and dry, but she didn’t really know him… and after the shit they’d just dealt with Dean wouldn’t have blamed her for wanting some alone time - even if only for a few hours or something.  

He kept a close eye on her as they made their way back inside and up to her apartment, but was relieved to see Wynter managed it on her own.  That definitely had to be a good sign, right?  Even if she still seemed shaky.  Waiting until she’d settled, he dug into his own bag of food - double cheeseburger and a large order of crinkle fries.  Heaven in a bag.  

leatherandsoil​:

Even though it was a joke, even though it was a joke that he had started, Paul’s heart shifted just a bit when Dean pulled away from him.  He couldn’t bear the thought, even in jest. 

“Hey now!” he said, chasing the taller man’s embrace. “I didn’t say I didn’t want help with any of that.”  he threw his arms around Dean’s waist, pulled him back in close.  “You know I love it when we share a bath.  I always end up so clean, but so very dirty at the same time.”  No lie there. It helped to have a partner to scrub down places he couldn’t reach (and with the way his joints refused to bend all the way, there were many of those places).  And if that partner was Dean, things almost always took a…fun…turn.  Hands roaming, stroking and squeezing and kneading. Skin shiny and slick from soap suds.  More often than not, they ended up pleasuring one another until the water turned cold and their skin began to wrinkle. 

“And it isn’t as though we can’t share a meal either.” he continued.  The two of them stretched out on the bed, naked and perhaps still damp from their bath, dining on morsels of steak and tender vegetables.  Fluffy bread rolls and creamy honey butter.  And definitely some of the inn’s Dark Horse Ale. It really was very good stuff.  

“Or we could forgo all of that and fuck one another senseless as soon as we close the door behind us.” Paul’s voice dropped lower as he spoke. “Although that presents a conundrum of choice too. Do I want to swallow you whole or be speared on your cock?” he smiled up at his lover. “They both have their benefits. If I’m on my knees with you all the way down my throat you make the loveliest sounds…sounds I don’t get to hear very often.  And your hands are in my hair and you taste so good.  Better than the Dark Horse even.  But….if you’re fucking me then I get to see you.  I get to see your face as your control slips and you pound me harder.  And I get to kiss you too.  Something I never get tired of.”  He smiled up at his lover.  “Truthfully I’m having a hard time deciding what I want to do…”

Dean got precisely the reaction he’d been expecting (and hoping for) Paul’s voice, low and rough in his ear, telling the hunter all the things he loved about their time together… and making him ache for want of it.  He chuckled, leaning in to inhale the sharp scents of iron and wood smoke that were so distinctly Paul.  “I’m going to miss these smells,” he murmured.  “But I think I like the idea of a bath first…”

Not that the idea of fucking each other senseless as soon as the door was closed didn’t sound amazing!  But Dean enjoyed doing other things with Paul, too.  And the truth was, he wanted to cram as many of those things into each visit as he possibly could.  The time they spent together was never enough.  But the hunter couldn’t stay… and he couldn’t ask Paul to give up his livelihood for a dangerous life on the road.  So they took what they could get - and that had to be enough.

leatherandsoil​:

Paul’s plan seemed to be working rather well.  Gellert and Kelly kept the wings and beer coming, and Paul kept the conversation moving. Dean smiled and nodded and laughed, which was good.  But there was still a little sadness creeping around the edges.  Once or twice Paul caught the other man staring, but he simply chalked it to getting lost in thought. Hell, Dean had just come off a years long committed relationship.  A little disconnect from reality was definitely allowable.  Paul was there to make sure he didn’t stay that way though.  Bring him out of that funk with ideas for Fallout mods and asking him about in game easter eggs.  He was just going to bring up a Youtube vid for most ridiculous Deathclaw kills when Dean asked if there was something wrong with him.  

Paul felt his heart crack. Of course Dean would wonder if he’d done something wrong.  That was how he was.  He always wanted to think he could fix something, try harder, do better.  And when things did go bad, it never occurred to him that it might be the other party’s fault.  He was, in fact, too good for this world.  

“Hey man.” Paul said, setting down his phone and leaning across the table to look Dean in the eyes.  Gorgeous, bottle green eyes that he could drown in.  No…NO dammit.  “There is absolutely nothing wrong with you.  You are the kindest, smartest, best person on this damn planet.  Anyone would consider themselves lucky to have you.  Some people are just blind and don’t have any taste.” 

Paul stared back at him and for a moment Dean forgot to breathe.  For a flash of an instant his friend’s answer didn’t matter… not so long as those dark, soulful eyes stayed locked on his.  And then the other man was speaking and Dean found himself leaning in, hanging on every word.  Smartest.  Kindest.  Lucky to have you.  ‘I’m the one who’s lucky,’ he thought.  All because of Paul.  The man had made his life infinitely better.  And if Dean had ever thought he could be everything his friend deserved… well, he’d…

That lingering gaze and effect of his touch didn’t go unnoticed by Theo. He could practically see the gears turning in Dean’s head during the pause between Theo’s question and his response, and knowing Dean might be feeling a similar attraction made the omega in Theo purr with excitement. Instinctually, he started to present, but it quickly became intentional. He wanted to get the attention of not just Dean, but his instincts. If Dean was interested…. Theo could afford a little distraction in his down time. He couldn’t be out hunting this shifter 24/7, and he hadn’t slept with anyone in some time. That time was even longer for the last alpha he’d slept with.

Theo tilted his head slightly to expose his neck, and his bonding gland, to the other. The follow-up, way he licked his lips and smirked at Dean, was just short of sultry. He couldn’t be too obvious or he might attract unwanted attention from another alpha nearby, there were plenty in this crowded diner - Theo could smell them, and Theo definitely didn’t want to deal with that while he was here. 

He was surprised to hear Dean wasn’t a local, and his inner omega purred again knowing they had this in common. He was about to ask why Dean had stopped drifting, but that question was quickly answered. 

“I’d really appreciate you showing me around, if you didn’t mind.” He might have replied a little too quickly, there was no ignoring the fact that this was more reason to spend time with Dean, but this was Theo’s in. Even a years knowledge was more than Theo had of the area, and if his friend was a local, this could be a perfect way to learn more about his surroundings. 

“That’s what I like about little towns though, even if there isn’t much to see, there is always something to see. Sometimes the small things are the ones that end up being the most special. They can be the ones with the most meaning,” Theo shrugged. 

“If you know of any work in the area I’d be interested too, gotta replenish the travelling fund while I’m here,” Theo grinned, and gave Dean a knowing smile. If Dean was a drifter like him, (not exactly like him, being a hunter made things a little different than someone just going from town to town) Theo figured he’d understand the struggle.

There was nothing subtle about the way Theo tilted his neck… exposing himself so perfectly - not to Dean, at least.  And that smirk!  The former Hunter’s reactions were almost instinctual.  He felt himself fixing his posture, sitting up straighter, and leaning towards the other man over the table.  Briefly he wondered if this was an indication he needed to up the dose on his suppressants, but at the moment he didn’t really care, and made no move to hide or minimize how his instincts were reacting.  Why should he?  It’d been too long since he’d had anyone in his bed.  And as long as Theo encouraged him, why try to stop it?

When he spoke, Dean noticed his tone had gone deeper, too, and carried the hint of a pleased growl.  “I’m happy to take you anywhere you want to go - there’s an outdoor market, and one of those retro drive-ins, a history museum…”  My bed.  Those last two words never left his mouth, but as he thought them, the Alpha bit at his lower lip and allowed a knowing grin to settle on his features.

leatherandsoil​:

“Well, I think the first order of business would be a bath.  For me at least.” Paul said with a laugh.  "I’ve been at the forge all day and I’m sweaty and dirty and…stiff.“ The last word was chosen deliberately, in keeping with the joke. He looked up at Dean and batted his eyelashes in a supremely ridiculous fashion.  "Did you say you’ve gotten settled?  At the inn, I presume?”  Of course the inn, where else would they stay?  Not waiting for an answer, Paul rattled on gleefully.

“A bath, yes.  A tub big enough I can stretch out in and scalding hot water.  And soap!  Lots of soap.  And those lovely fluffy towels.”  The thought of Dean’s hands on him, roaming over wet skin, tangling in lathered hair was inspiring, truthfully.  But Paul was having fun with this.  "After a bath, a meal.  I don’t know about you but I’m famished.“ he grinned. "I would love a big slab of beef for dinner.  With some potatos.  And ale!  Their Dark Horse Ale is so very good.  Strong and dark and spiced just a little bit.” he frowned in mock concern.  "I hope they have some left.  I know they were working on their last barrel and the next shipment won’t be in for a few days.“

It was clear almost from the beginning of Paul’s little speech that he was toying with Dean.  But he didn’t see any harm in playing along, allowing a dismayed frown to settle under eyes that couldn’t quite hide his amusement.  This was just one of the many reasons he’d fallen for the blacksmith all those years ago.  The man had a sense of humor that never failed to amuse him.

But two could play Paul’s game, and Dean played it just as well as his lover.  “If all you need for your… stiffness is a bath and some good ale, then maybe I should let you have the room at the inn and just sleep in my vardo?  There’s no reason to stay where I’m not… needed, is there?”  Even after so many months since his last visit, the Hunter can still hear Paul’s voice, breathless and impatient, telling Dean how much he needed him.  The memory drew a hint of a smile.  

   Okay, yeah, he had a point there. Having two separate orders would just turn it into a hassle and besides that, she didn’t feel like arguing back and forth about it with him. She was just too bloody tired to deal with that right now…

   “Sounds good…” she offered, rubbing at her eyes.

   Bless him, though. The entire car smelled like food once they pulled away from the drive-through and her stomach was growling so loudly that he could probably hear it from the driver’s seat. All she wanted to do was attack her food, but she wasn’t the sort to eat in the car, no matter how hungry she was.

   She looked up from the soda she was sipping at, shaking her head a bit. “N-nah…nah, it’s all good. I’ll be alright s-soon.” she promised. With food in her stomach, some sugary soda in her system and sleep, she’d be right as rain come the morning. “Sucks t-that the things meant to help t-take so much out of you, y-you know?” she offered, smiling weakly.

   Had to keep up that lie, after all.

   Of course, she couldn’t help the amused huff that escaped her at the mention of the joint. “M’good…k-keep the good stuff for yourself.” she promised. She’d actually never tried pot before, and she hadn’t lit anything up since high school when clove cigarettes were all the rage for blossoming goths. Once had been more than enough for her.

   “If y’need it, t-though, you’re free to light it up.” 

   What? She might smoke, but she didn’t have a problem with him doing it. Just so long as it wasn’t down in the shop, of course. She could do a lot with her magic, but she didn’t know if she could get weed stink out of the books.

   Ah yes, home sweet home. “G-Go ahead and pull in around back behind the shop.” she instructed, gesturing to one of the little side streets. 

   “Were you expecting i-it to get this crazy?” the young woman asked, looking over at the hunter as he got them parked. 

Dean nodded at Wynter’s comment.  “Yeah, objects of power are no joke.  Guess we’re just the best source of energy they need to do their thing.  Hopefully the food will help with that.  Get you feeling better soon.”  It did seem like just the soda had perked her up a bit already.  Dean didn’t think he was imagining it.

The Hunter chuckled when Wynter told him to keep the ‘good stuff.’  “Maybe… once we’re sure we’ve got a handle on all of this.  We don’t know how many people this girl cursed… or how to stop it.  IF we can stop it.”  He frowned and shook his head.  “I think I’ll settle for food and sleep tonight.”  He side-eyed Wynter.  “Your spare room still available for another night?”  He didn’t want to make any assumptions, and also didn’t want to intrude when the woman obviously felt like shit.

leatherandsoil​:

Paul was relieved that he’d thought to call ahead and make a reservation.  that sounded more like something one would do for a fancy five star place, not a local bar.  But seeing Dean’s face go from sad panda to relieved joy was proof that Paul’s instincts were right.  And the tone of the other man’s voice when he called Paul one of a kind made his heart ache just a little.  Their favorite table was just a little thing, but it made Dean smile and tonight that was the important thing.  Making Dean happy.  Making him feel good. Paul would certainly do the ‘feel good’ thing in other ways if only Dean were open to them.  But…he’d never expressed any interest.  Not even a blip.  So Paul would make him happy in other ways.  Bro stuff.  Currently alcohol and killer chicken wings.  

 "Extra barbecue, extra ranch.“  That would be Gellert, one of the owners of the place.  Bartender and Kelly’s husband.  The blonde set the heaping platters down on their table with a smile and gave them a nod.  "Be right back with your drinks.” he said.  

  Dean didn’t say much, he just dug into his chicken.  He liked his stuff to taste strong, which was the reason for the extra sauce and dip.  The only problem was that it made a hell of a mess. Well…not normally a problem, but Paul hated to be ogling his best friend when he was freshly broken up.  Not even hours broken up.  'But available now.’ his traitorous brain reminded him.  Paul mentally gave his brain the finger and reminded himself to watch his drinking lest he say something he might possibly regret in the morning.  

  As if summoned by his thoughts, Gellert appeared again, Guinness beers in hand.   "Anything else you just let us know.“ he said with another smile before heading back to the bar.  

With a lopsided grin, Paul pulled a bottle from the bucket, twisted off the cap, and slid it over to Dean.  The other man looked up from his wings, mouth positively covered in sauce, and grinned back before taking in a swig.  Paul’s heart cracked just a little.  Dean was game.  And that was good.

Focus on the food and the booze… and Paul.  That’s all he needed.  He’d power through this like he did everything else.  Water off a duck’s back.  So what if Lucy had been his longest committed relationship?  So what if he’d been struggling for over a year to find ways to keep them that way… to make it work.  Deep down, maybe he’d known?  He just hadn’t wanted to do anything about it - hadn’t wanted to admit to himself that he’d failed.  Again.  Maybe he just wasn’t cut out for the whole ‘committed’ thing.  Maybe all he was really good for was a good fuck now and then.

Those thoughts and more skittered around inside his head as the hours ticked by.  But they weren’t front and center.  Paul made sure of that.  His friend kept him present with good food, good beer, and welcome conversation.  Dean had to shake himself a little when he realized he’d been focusing on Paul’s mouth.  No.  No he couldn’t go there.  Could he?  But he couldn’t just… come out.  And surely someone as open about his sexuality as Paul was wouldn’t be okay with keeping secrets…?  Fuck.  It was stupid to even think the man would be interested.  Yes - he was currently single.  And yes, they worked well together.  Hell - the best of friends from day one.  But what if it didn’t work?  What if he fucked it up like he did everything else?  Then he’d not only lose his lover, but his best friend, too.  Was he willing to even risk that?

demonsiget​:

Can’t Hold Out Forever - Paul and Dean

Even when he was a wreck, Dean was wonderful to hug.  Didn’t lock up, didn’t squirm.  He relaxed into Paul’s embrace, hugged him back. 

“So…we getting outta here or what?” Dean asked, stepping back. Paul nodded and offered him a bright smile.

  “I’ll drive.” he said.  If things went right, Dean would be in no kind of driving shape by the end of the night. Truthfully, Paul might be a little iffy himself, but he could handle it. He didn’t want his friend to have to fret about anything .  And if it came down to it, Kelly or Gellert would probably give either of them a ride.  They were good people like that.

  The drive to Kelly’s Irish Pub was short and uneventful.  The parking lot was just starting to get crowded, but Paul snuck into a close spot as someone drove off with take out.  He was glad he had called ahead, because with the ball game on it was shaping up to be a busy night. The patio lights were all ready on and customers were spilling out into the cool fall air to drink and chatter amongst the pumpkin festooned tables.  That meant harvest ales and Oktoberfest brews inside, which suited Paul just fine.  Thankfully, no pumpkin spice wings though.  Just the standard barbecue and buffalo. 

  Paul led the way inside, barely pausing to catch Tim Kelly’s eye and nod at him.  The acknowledgement was returned and Paul headed around to the booth he’d called about earlier.  Dean had beat him there, and was looking deflated at the “reserved” sign perched in the middle of the table.

    “Don’t worry, its reserved for us.” Paul said, sliding in on one side. “I made arrangements.”

Dean had had some pretty decent friends over the years… but none of them came close to Paul.  This was a guy he trusted maybe more than he trusted his own brother - and that was saying something.  There was only one secret Dean had ever kept from Sam… and it was the same one he’d kept from Paul - the fact that he was bisexual.  Beyond that singular fact, Paul knew everything about him that there was to know.  One day, Dean hoped he’d work up the nerve to tell his friend the truth.  Hell, if he ever told anyone, it would be Paul.  The idea of telling his family still scared the living daylights out of him.  Sam… might accept it.  Maybe.  But their dad?  Yeah… Dean didn’t think that was likely to happen - not in a million years.

The mechanic dwelled in his thoughts, staying pretty quiet on the drive to the bar.  It was busy when they arrived, but Dean didn’t mind.  He hoped the noise would help distract him.  Without question, he followed Paul through the crowd, though he knew where they were headed (or thought he did.)  There was a booth they both liked.  It was out of the way enough that they could talk to each other, but had a good line of sight to one of the big screen TVs and was also close enough to the bar that they got drinks and food quickly.

demonsiget​:

Playing With Fire

Paul happily snuggled closer into Dean’s arms.  Leather armor, harness oil, forest…all things Paul smelled on a daily basis, but somehow when hung on this man, those scents made him extraordinarily happy.  He could only keep Dean for a short while-there were beasts to be captured and monsters to be subdued and all manner of bad things to be fought.  Paul’s life and livelihood was here in Oak, and much as he missed Dean when he was gone, at least here he could provide the man with a place to return too.  Not to mention all the affection he could handle, as with the soft kiss he leaned into.  But also, sometimes in the form of good natured teasing. 

“Punishment?” he scoffed, breaking free of the other man’s lips to smirk up at him.  "I rather doubt you’d consider anything I do to you as punishment.  In fact, I seem to remember you enjoyed being bound to the bed last time around.“  That had been a wonderful, memorable couple of days.  The two of them barely left their shared room (thank goodness for good natured innkeepers) and had thoroughly worn one another out.  Paul had come away with an ache that lasted for two days and a new appreciation for Dean’s stamina. Dean had left with a thoroughly satisfied smile on his face and faint marks on his wrists and ankles.

Having his arms full of Paul reminded Dean of the good days - before his mom…  The blacksmith smelled of hearth and home and all things Dean wanted most in his life.  The crisp scent of smoked wood and the sharp tang of hot metal all rolled into a man who was equal parts strong and soft.  He inhaled deeply, trying to memorize that scent… take it into his being.  

Dean protested a little when Paul pulled away… but it was mostly for show.  He liked looking into the other man’s eyes, taking in the lines of his face and the expression of love he always saw there.  “Oh, I bet there are a few things you could do that would have me begging for you to stop,” the Hunter teased.  “Begging and pleading and squirming…”  He trailed off with a breathless laugh and a quick wink.  “But you’re not wrong.  Last time was… amazing.”  Paul had done things to him he STILL had dreams about.  Such very good dreams…

demonsiget​:

Bones in the Ground || Wynter & Dean

   Welcome to New Orleans. Hard to do in-ground graves when the city was like, eighteen feet below sea level. But he was right, having all of those tall monuments and crypts provided less than savory characters to be lurking around every corner.

   Lucky for them, though, she was really only able to sense the locals lingering, so that was a plus. She knew for a fact she wouldn’t have the energy to help him fight off any other nasty that might rear its head…

   Thank Christ for the fact that he was right there, because if Dean hadn’t been within arm’s reach, Wyn would have absolutely bit the dust as her vision swam. Wouldn’t have been the hardest fall she’d ever had, but she still wasn’t particularly keen on toppling over on herself in front of him. 

   “T-Thanks…” she muttered.

   The young woman leaned heavily against the hunter, making it back to the car with his help. It did feel like it took an eternity to reach said vehicle, but it was kind of hard to move when her legs felt like weighted jell-o.

   But they made it, and with Dean’s help, she was able to settle into the front seat of the Impala. Wyn closed her eyes, fighting to settle that swimming feeling that had overtaken her head. God, she hated feeling like this, hated feeling so horrible…Yeah, she’d done it for a good reason, but even still…

   That was a good question, though, wasn’t it?

   As much as she’d like to just go back to the apartment and fall into bed, she knew she needed to get something into her stomach and replenish all of the energy she’d spent on that spell. “Food’d b-be good.” she muttered, rubbing a hand over her face.

   “Don’t have t’worry about p-paying, though…” she could take care of her own meal, that wasn’t a problem. Sweet of him to offer, though.

   Did they really have time to stop for a meal? Probably not, considering everything that had just been dumped on them, but taking a breather was necessary, as was eating something, so whatever…They could regroup and get back to work after.

   “S’a couple of late-nights around here…”

Dean grinned as he started the car and pulled out of the graveyard.  “Then you can pay me back later.  No reason to confuse the night shift with one order and two payments.”  Or two orders from the same car.  Or whatever.  One order and one payment made things easy and probably saved some time.  Maybe.  

Using Darth Vadar to guide them, Dean found the closest drive through and ordered everything Wynter asked for before getting something for himself, too.  As they drove back to her place with the food, he side-eyed her.  “Anything else I can do…?”  He and Sam didn’t often use magical implements to help them out, but it happened now and then, and Dean remembered how fucking drained he’d felt afterwards.  And in a way, this was all kinda his fault, so he felt responsible for helping Wynter feel better.  Even if her response was just, ‘Stop talking.’

Shifter in the Night

Theo had his nose buried in his mug when the waitress finally returned, and when he looked up to lock eyes with his new breakfast companion, he hoped the surprise he felt did not show so clearly on his face. 

The man beside the little waitress was built in a way that made Theo (in a wildly inappropriate way for a man Theo only just looked at) wonder what he looked like beneath his clothes. The clothes suggested he might have a job that required a lot of activity, and needed to be sturdy, perhaps a farm hand. But Theo was drawn most to those beautifully deep, dark brown eyes, and a jaw line that Theo wanted to nuzzle right into. 

His cheeks flushed at such a sudden, childish thought accompanied by the inappropriate ones, like he was some teenage omega again with hormones barely budding over such base desires. Nuzzling like that was a submissive gesture that he hadn’t wanted to do to someone in years- and here he was- day dreaming like this over an alpha he’d seen for all of two seconds. 

At first Theo second guessed his first assumption, his first hope hope??? why was he hoping that this man was an alpha because of his smell. Even in this crowded place Theo’s sensitive nose could pick something out, but it was subdued, laced with something else meant to mask it. 

Suppressants, Theo suddenly thought to himself, and that desire to nuzzle into the other grew. He was sure he’d be able to identify that smell if he was just closer… he’d be able to confirm the other was an alpha, and satiate the sudden itch he felt at the pit of his stomach to make sure. 

Make sure? and suddenly, The came back to himself. 

“Hey there,” Theo replied, hoping he hadn’t left too much of a pause between the other’s greeting and his own. He was working. He was on a job, and he needed to focus. He couldn’t let himself get distracted, despite the distraction being… very nice to look at. Despite the fact that an alpha hadn’t attracted his attention in what felt like forever. If this man was an alpha of course, but Theo couldn’t think of any other explanation for this sudden, very intense attraction. Even without a full, vibrant scent, Theo felt pulled towards the other. 

“No worries, I figured it might not hurt to talk to someone who knows the town. No better way to do that than over breakfast!” Theo nodded to the coffee cup with a grin. “I also figured if you didn’t want the coffee, I’d drink it for you. I’m glad my guess was the right one tho, and I can see why you’re jonesing for it.” 

Theo felt something melt in his chest at that smile, and he briefly wondered what those lips might feel like against his own. Then he blinked and internally slapped himself. Focus! He wasn’t supposed to get his heat for a few more weeks, but maybe he should start taking his suppressants if he was reacting like this to someone. But why was he reacting like this to someone? He only took his suppressants when he thought his heat might overlap with a job, but… he couldn’t really afford a distraction with a shifter in town.

“Uh- yeah, just got in this morning,” he reached up to rub at the back of his neck and looked a little sheepish as he did so. “I’m a little bit of a drifter, I don’t like to stay in one place for too long, and I just kinda- stop when I get tired of driving, and stay at that place for a while before I start to get the itch again. This little place is my next stop it seems.” 

He tilted his head and smiled as Dean offered his hand. A little twinge of excitement gripped his chest, and he was again overcome with how foolish of a reaction it was for such a simple touch. 

Theo reached out to shake Dean’s hand firmly, but he didn’t pull his hand away like one normally would after about a second of contact. His hand lingered, and he risked a subtle touch to the inside of Dean’s wrist. He could slap himself again, 

“I’m Theo. You born and raised here, or a settler?”

Dean’s eyes followed the other man’s hand as he talked, watching the way he rubbed his neck… gaze tracing the line of lean muscle…  mind wondering what it would be like to drag his teeth…  With more willpower than he thought he had, Dean tore his gaze away to focus on his coffee.  Staring the guy down WAS NOT a good way to kick things off.  He could count on one hand the number of Omegas he’d met that liked being intensely stared at by strange Alphas.  He needed to be cool… regardless of how the other was making him feel.

Instead, Dean tried to focus on the words being said - a guy who knew a good cup of coffee, a drifter who liked to travel.  Yeah, he got that.  Paying attention was going pretty well… until their handshake.  Until that hand lingered in his...fingertips brushing the inside of his wrist, sending a jolt of want to all the right places.  (Or was it the wrong ones?)  He tried to tell himself he’d imagined it… but the place where Theo’s fingers had been seemed to throb warmly.  Hell… Dean had just about decided it didn’t matter what Theo was… he wanted him regardless.  How long had it been since he’d…?  

FOCUS DEAN!

He’d been asked a question.

“Uh… settler, actually.  Most of my life was spent on the road.  Like you, I guess.”  He flashed a smile, glad he’d been able to so quickly work in the fact they had something in common.  “Bout a year ago…”  He cleared his throat, took a gulp of coffee - trying NOT to think about Sam - then kept going.  “...things changed.  Friend of mine offered me a job and a place to stay, so here I am.  I’m probably not as knowledgeable as some of the locals… but I’d be happy to tell you what I can… maybe show you around?”  Because he absolutely needed more time with this guy!  Omega or not.  “Not that there’s much to see, “ he admitted with an almost sheepish chuckle.

demonsiget​:

Can't Hold Out Forever - Paul and Dean

Paul busied himself with tidying while Dean got himself cleaned up.  Wipe down the desk-that wasn’t difficult, he’d cleaned up worse messes in the shop all the time.  Pick up the things that the hag had knocked over during her temper tantrum.  Try not to be angry about things.  That was the hard part.  Dean was such a nice guy, such a good man, and he deserved better than life kicking him in the balls like this.  Well, Paul had a plan to make sure Dean didn’t see the bottom of his beer glass all night.  With that in mind, he dug out his cellphone and dialed Kelly’s bar.    

“Hey its Paul.” he said when the Irishman picked up. “Ehhhh…not great?  yeah no….but can you do me a favor?  Can you have that booth back around the corner set up?  No, nothing like that.  Double order of barbecue wings.  Extra sauce.  and Guinness.  Probably a double of that too.  And keep it coming.  On me.  Yeah, it was kinda bad.  All right.  Good, see you in a bit.” 

He hung up, stowed the phone, and continued tidying.  He was just shutting down the computer when he heard Dean coming down the stairs. 

“Uh…ready when you are…” the other man said.  Paul nodded, straightening up.  Ah Hell, he couldn’t go like this though.  He had liberal smears of paint on his shirt and likely smelled of solvents.  Dean looked decent and Paul looked like a paint monkey.

“Yeah, just a sec.  Lemme swap out this shirt.” he said.  He kept a couple clean ones in the closet just in case he got really filthy, and he grabbed one now.  Tugging the dirty one over his head, he hung it on the doorknob momentarily while he pulled on the fresh one.  Ugh, now he remembered why he never wore this one.  Just a hair too small and the fabric was a lil bit thin.  But it would do for keeping his hairy damn self covered.  Grabbing the dirty one off the knob, he turned back towards Dean.  Aw, fuck.  His friend was smiling gamely…or at least trying to.  Nothing for it.  Man needed a hug.  And now that he wasn’t covered in paint, Paul could deliver.  

Closing the distance between them in a few strides, Paul threw his free arm around Dean’s shoulders and pulled him close. “Its all right.” he said softly.  “It sucks but its gonna be okay.  I promise.”

Dean couldn’t help but watch… staring hard as Paul pulled off his paint-smeared shirt and switched into a clean one.  Fuck.  And the new one…!  It clung to him practically like a second skin.  His eyes jerked guiltily away as Paul turned back around, and then refocused on his friend’s face as the man moved towards him.  

And then, just like that, he was wrapped in a hug that Dean didn’t want to end.  It amazed the mechanic a little how relaxed the touch made him feel.  “Shoulda paid more attention to the signs,” he mumbled in reply, trying not to inhale Paul’s scent too deeply.  Worried he’d held on a little too long, Dean pulled back with a shuddering sigh.  “They were all there, I just thought…”  He shook his head.  It didn’t matter what he’d thought.  He’d been wrong, and now it was over.  Even if Lucy did try to come back after this, there was no way in hell he’d let it happen.

Just Like Starting Over

Paul had figured it would be this way.  Dean was supremely stubborn when he wanted to be, and apparently right now he wanted to be. That was all right.  Paul’s late husband Kelly had been the KING of Stubborn, and Paul had learned his lessons well.  One of them had been “Be nice, but don’t be a doormat.”  So when Dean said something about not the best company, Paul just nodded.

  “I wasn’t asking.” he said, letting the smallest tic of steel slide into his voice. Just so Dean could see he meant business. But he softened it with a smile. “I’m not going to make you talk.  But…I am going to make you stay.” And he could.  He would hate it if things came to blows, but there was no way he was letting Dean drive away.  He cared about him too much to let him keep going on the road he was taking.  Paul could help him, he would help him, but he had to get him to stay put first.  

Walking over, he put a strong hand on Dean’s shoulder. If he tried to leave, he had a hold on him now.  “yeah, I’ll take it all.” he said, not even sparing a glance for the contents of the trunk.  He’d made most of it anyway.  “But, it’ll keep.  C’mon, let’s go eat.”

Paul wasn’t going to back down, dammit!  Dean should’ve expected that.  Hell, maybe deep down, he had.  Maybe that was why some part of him had decided to come here.  He didn’t even know what he wanted anymore.  Right now though - right this very second - he didn’t want to fight about it.  Maybe if he gave in for a bit… did what Paul asked… he could slip out later.  After dinner… once Paul was asleep.  Easier for both of them that way.  Paul definitely didn’t need Dean’s mess in his life.

You Are 48% Gryffindor, 22% Ravenclaw, 18% Slytherin, and 12% Hufflepuff!

Just like Hermione Granger, you were ultimately placed in Gryffindor, but the Sorting Hat seriously considered putting you in Ravenclaw. You are a natural born leader, often taking control of the reins from others whose recklessness or dedication to facts and knowledge clouds their judgment. You are intelligent, but acknowledge that there are more important things in life, and therefore aim to use your intelligence and determination to fight for what you believe to be right.

Your slight compatibility with Slytherin house suggests a determination to succeed, though not at the expense of traits from your more dominant houses.

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(( I’m actually surprised the Hufflepuff wasn’t higher...))