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Nie Huaisang between wwx's death and nmj's death winds back up at gusu at 14; he's not the headshaker yet, and he's not the chessmaster either. But this story isn't about him.
Ever since Wei Wuxian’s arrived here at Gusu this one kid has been staring at him. And so what? Let him stare, maybe he’s a cutsleeve or something, Wei Wuxian is handsome! He’s smart and funny- regardless of what Jiang Cheng says because Wei Wuxian knows what Jiang Cheng thinks.
So yeah, it’s fine, it’s whatever, except that he and A-Cheng are sharing a room with this other disciple and it’s not like that one girl who Yanli had pointed out and Wuxian couldn’t help but sneakily stare back every so often. Maybe it’s just ‘cause he’s a guy, what does Wei Wuxian know? But he is always looking.
Wuxian peers under his eyelids and back around and the guy’s still staring like Wei Wuxian is some sort of- he doesn’t even know what- and honestly, he can’t take it anymore. It’s been almost three days of this, Jiang Cheng should commend him for his restraint and take this as proof that he does sometimes listen because he’s yet to do anything about it. Also winding up the Lan disciple is kind of a lot funnier but yeah.
Wuxian’s spine is starting to twitch and he really can’t be taking that, okay?
“What’s so interesting about me anyway?” He asks the guy, and he really should remember his name but there have been so many names recently, so blame him or whatever. Jiang Cheng’s left to empty his bladder or whatever it is that he goes off to do alone before bed so it’s just the two of them in their room when Wuxian finally pops the question and the other disciple jolts like he’s been shot straight through with lightning.
“Ah- ah- ahh,” the other occupant of the room stutters unintelligently, going red and redder. And now Wuxian feels a little bit bad, but also mostly amused and so he just rolls his eyes and shrugs.
“Quit the staring,” he says, then, as an olive branch, “People might think you’re a cutsleeve, I don’t massively care but it’s not a great look, yeah?”
With that, Wuxian flops over and tries to go to sleep. The other guy keeps stuttering some stuff but nothing intelligible and when he turns back over to slyly peak the other figure is facing away from him, stiff as a board.
Stuff goes on after that, Wuixan keeps getting into trouble, Jiang Cheng gets annoyed, Jiang Cheng makes friends with the other guy who’s part of the Nie Sect and they get on so well it’s almost weird but whatever, his shidi can have friends, Wei Wuxian’s in detention half the time with Lan Zhan so like. Yeah.
Although it is weird, the Nie guy will drop things he likes that Jiang Cheng likes with this look and it’s not like how he’d been staring at Wei Wuxian but it’s like- he’s expecting? God Wuxian doesn’t know, and he doesn’t care, and he really doesn’t want to be a hypocrite about the staring so he doesn’t say anything but he does try to hang out with the two of them more and it’s not even weird because they’re rooming together.
And like, Nie Huaisang is funny when he’s not being weird, and canny when he’s not being dumb, and obsessive. Like a dog with a bone.
And then there’s a class, and old man Lan is so boring, and dull, and nobody ever wants to do anything new or exciting. It’s just old rules because tradition dictates and too many to ever remember and everybody’s eyes being shut to what could be.
So Wei Wuxian is bored, and he’s buzzing and Lan Zhan is there with his stare and he’s not staring at Wei Wuxian, he’s staring so perfectly at the board ahead like the model student, uncaring, unbothered and Lan Qiren is on another droning lecture and it’s like- it’s all bullshit.
So Wei Wuxian speaks up and speaks back and Lan Qiren’s face turns to thunder, Jiang Cheng’s jaw goes tight. There is the slightest aspect of a sneer on Lan Zhan’s otherwise perfectly serene face. Not much, but something- something and-
Nie Huaisang is staring at him again, different but the same. The way he stares at Jiang Cheng after Nie Huaisang he asks a question like he knew the answer, but that’s happy and this is sad and-
Wei Wuxian goes back to staring at Lan Zhan. He gets detention again, it’s whatever. Lan Zhan is so funny to wind up.
Nie Huaisang starts his staring again and Jiang Cheng is off somewhere in a strop. Wei Wuxian smuggles in alcohol, gets into trouble and Jiang Cheng gets even more annoyed.
The thing about his Shidi taking it upon himself to make sure Wei Wuxian… behaves or whatever is Nie Huaisang’s staring is more because he’s always there now, which is good or bad or something or- and he’s so perfect for Jiang CHeng. His friend in every way with the right thing to say all the time and who needs Wei Wuxian and who needs anything and he won’t stop staring ever and Wei Wuxian shouldn’t be bothered by this because he doesn’t do anything and he’s normal when he talks except that he always knows the right thing to say even if that’s never the correct answer in their lessons and- and and-
Nie Huaisang stares at Wei Wuxian like he’s going to explode and if he doesn’t stop then maybe Wei Wuxian will, maybe he will.
Lan Zhan’s good. Detention is funny, which it probably shouldn’t be. Wei Wuxian keeps getting into trouble and Nie Huaisang lets slip something he got up to with A-Cheng when Wuxian wasn’t around.
And he should be laughing, and cackling little goody-two-shoes Jiang Wanyin isn’t so perfect, except that Wei Wuxian already knows this, dust on the ground and the smell of the lake in his nose. But that’s the two of them, now it’s the two of them, Wei Wuxian away- and is this how Yanli feels but it can’t be.
Wuxian isn’t-
Looke he doesn’t know but Nie Huaisang is too perfect in all the ways he is and isn’t in all the ways he’s not and the staring is still going, but its different their eyes meet too often in the crossover of their stares.
The other disciple is always there except when Wei Wuxian is holed up or the Nie is slinking off to talk to Lan Xichen alone and Jiang Cheng is less- he didn’t scold Wei Wuxian the last time he got into trouble. Wuxian caught him scribbling something down that set his own brain a-whirling and he still never answers a question in class right but he passed their last test and Lan Zhan won’t look at Wei Wuxian and he doesn’t know why he cares except that Nie Huaisang won’t stop.
But Nie Huaisang isn’t there when Wei Wuxian is in detention and Lan Zhan is and Wei Wuxian has never been able to stop in his life.
They say it’s wrong, that type of cultivation, but the Lan have 100s of rules which make no sense and exist simply because, even though Wei Wuxian has always done his best work at night, when alcohol can make some of the buzzing- and Lan Qiren preaches against it but surely this is just one rule more?
The way Nie Huaisang stares at him like a seal about to explode increases the more Wei Wuxian speaks up about this in class and he needs to confront him but what does he say. He’s not a child, staring isn’t a crime, and Jiang Cheng likes him, and he seems relaxed and their friendship is so so perfect.
Wei Wuxian gets dismissed from the classes early and it’s whatever. There’s nothing to missin the Lan, nothing, nothing about them. Lan Zhan doesn’t sneer when he’s sent off, he’s not there. Wei Wuxian scrambles around to find his things, to find his brother.
He expects to find Jiang Cheng apoplectic. He’s not.
Wei Wuxian has always had to scratch the itch so he asks.
“I expect you’ll get enough when you get back to Yiling,” Jiang Cheng says, a bit of bite to it, and there’s something else, but Wei Wuxian can’t unpick it because those are not Jiang Cheng’s words. He loves his brother as he loves Yanli but for all he preaches restraint his impulsivity is there too, it’s how Wei Wuxian can drag him into trouble and out of it too.
The presence of Nie Huaisang lurks in the room, even though both the man and his staring is absent.
Soon Wei Wuxian will be absent too, free of the stares and the judging and the appraisal of him as an unstable seal about to self destruct.
Which is bullshit because Wei Wuxian has been doing his research and he has his suspicions about what Nie Huaisang is scribbling that is certainly not class notes and he doesn’t care how perfectly matched he is to be friends with Jiang Cheng. Wei Wuxian knew him first and fights are normal, they’re natural. They’ve been scrapping since before they knew how to scrap and now Wei Wuxian has fucked up so collosally and Jiang Cheng is almost calm.
“Stay away from Nie Huaisang, there’s something wrong with him.” Wuxian couldn’t tell you what possessed him to say it, but maybe he thinks he knows. He’s leaving and he has to but why and what and-
And Jiang Cheng is angry now. Oh his shidi is mad and it’s almost relief, that contrary nature, that irritation, the raising of the eyebrows, the shock. Just Wei Wuxian and his inappropriate comments once more. But Wei Wuxian is leaving and Jiang Cheng isn’t listening and- and-
Nie Huaisang won’t be able to stare anymore but Wei Wuxian still doesn’t know what he wants and Jiang doesn’t know that Nie Huaisang wants.
Wei Wuxian is alone when he’s turfed out of Gusu. He’s a young master, almost. This was meant to be the gateway to his perfect future, except that nobody ever sees and the rules are just there to keep you in line while everybody else-
And Wei Wuxian doesn’t know if he’s free of Nie Huaisang or if Nie Huaisang is free of Wei Wuxian.
Or neither, or none. Jiang Cheng’s there and Wei Wuxian isn’t and he doesn’t know what it is. But Wei Wuxian knows that he’s going to figure it out - whatever it is is that Nie Huaisang is trying to know. Wei Wuxian will work it out first, and then all of it- the notes, the stares, Jiang Cheng- the edge of the explosion the cart on the precipice.
Wei Wuxian will figure out Nie Huaisang’s mysteries, and then he will take care of them in every way he can.
⚠️ warnings: Blow job / wet and messy / spit (spitting on dick and hand) / teasing / a little degradation but reader likes it / reader is wearing something semi sexy /
Word count: 1.8k
Scene: Haknyeon gets nervous about going on stage, thankfully his lovely girlfriend is there to help him find his courage in a supply room 5 minutes before they're called onto the stage.
The crashing red and white lights made it hard for Haknyeon to focus, the itchy material of his mesh shirt clinging too tightly to his skin and making his heart pound in his ears. He’s never been this nervous to go on stage before, aside from a few one offs. The rest of the members were giggly and excited but he just couldn’t muster that same energy up just yet.
His eyes dart around the crowded backstage area, looking for you. And like an angel in the night, he sees you scrambling past Sangyeon and Eric to get to him.
“Hakkie!” you smile, your heart byong-bong in hand tied with red ribbon and Haknyeon’s name along the black stick in silver gems.
Haknyeon cracks a smile but his heart is thundering so bad he can't respond to you how he normally would. He sucks in a breath at your outfit for tonight; a red sparkly top cut low in the front where two thin silver necklaces lay adoring your neck and chest. The sleeves of your top are long and wide, but sheer just like the rest of the lower part of the top. His cheeks redden as he dips his gaze down to the sleek leather pants you wear with a short wedge in your black converses. You looked mesmerising.
“Whoa…he whispers as you make your way to him and throw your arms around his neck to hold onto him. His own wrap around your waist and pull you in further as he inhales your sweet perfume .
“Hi baby,” he murmurs quietly in your ear and immediately he feels your body begin to unravel itself from his own. “You okay?” You ask Haknyeon purses his lips a little.
“Nervous. Like … unbelievably nervous.” He answers truthfully as his eyes dip away from your face and you pout as you reach to cup his jaw and your thumb gently rubs his skin. You're careful not to mess up the makeup there.
“We're all nervous hakkie,” you hear Jacob say as he passes to fix his mic around his ear before sharing a sweet or two with Kevin.
“Being nervous is good, I'd be worried if you weren't. Is there anything I can do to help, baby?” You ask once your gazes meet again. Sweat was beginning to form on Haknyeon's forehead and his eyes darted away from yours. He shakes his head and steps away a little to create a bit of space.
“Can you help me take my mind off it?” He asks. “Even for just 5 minutes?” He whispers as he takes in how pretty you look under the backstage lights. You nod her head, smiling and leaning in to kiss his lips gently. He immediately kisses back, holding your waist and pulling into him as he hears Hyunjae's teasing whistles and his face goes red.
“Let's leave the lovebirds for a second guys,” Younghoon happily steps in and shoos the others away far enough in the cramped area of the backstage part before Haknyeon sighs.
“You're going to do great, I know you will, once you're out there it'll be a breeze,” you whisper against his lips and he finally smiles.
“I really want to see deobis too, they get so excited,” he admits, biting the corner of his lip and smiling fondly at the mention of his fans.
“But I just don't want to mess up - “
“You won't, you've got your lucky charm with you - me and the members,” you quib back with a dazzling smile that makes Haknyeon nod his head. He shuffles a little as you fix your wristband of your light stick and ever so slightly your top dips more than it should and Haknyeon gets a pleasant eye full of the valley of your breasts. His eyes widen before he looks away but he's caught and you giggle.
“What? “ He asks and you smirk before taking his hand.
“I know a way to kill some nerves for 5 minutes, baby,” you whisper to him and pull him in the other direction away from the stage. You rush to find an empty room of shorts and smirk.
“Yn - I don't have much time,” Haknyeon whines, scared to be late as you pull him towards a vacant room - a supply room of all things and Haknyeon's heart is thundering as he realises what's on your mind.
“It's plenty of time, you're uptight and if you go out now you'd flash deobis,” you murmur as you push him against the door as quietly as possible. Your hand ghosts ghost his front where the thick leather pants barely conceal his bulge, you can feel him throbbkng under your touch.
“What got you riled up baby?” You ask and Haknyeon smirks, cocky. He tilts your chin towards him and swipes his thumb over your gloss covered lips.
“You, in that red top. How I am supposed to focus when I know you're out there in the crowd wearing this…you're too distracting baby,” he whispers, and you smirk back, palming him soft to hear a quiet groan escape Haknyeon's lips.
“Cute, I'll make sure you can see me at the front then,” you tease and you can practically feel his shyness ebbing away as he slowly rolls those devious hips into your palm. “I'd like that…I'd like it even more if you knelt for me like a good girl and opened your mouth.” He murmurs in that deep voice of his with eyes glazed over in want. You blush, redness creeping over your cheeks and down your chest a little and matching the colour of your top.
Haknyeon needed an anchor, and that is you.
“With pleasure baby boy,” you sing song as you trail your hands up his thick thighs and down again just as you drop to your knees.
“Make it quick, can you make me cum in 5?” He asks, grabbing your jaw to make you look at him and you bite your lip slightly.
5 minutes isn't a lot of time, but you're more than happy to try.
“I can try.”
“You will. What would the others think, that you can't even get your boyfriend off back here in a supply closet?” Haknyeon scoffs and your mind reels in effort to show him otherwise.
You unzip and pull his cock free, stroking him up and down slow at first. The glide is awkward and stiff as Haknyeon let's go of your face and pushes your hair back a little.
“It's so hot…you're gonna be out there… remembering you sucked me dry moments prior. How adorable…” he groans, watching you lean and pool as much spit as you can along his tip before Haknyeon grabs your hand. You peek up at him, confused before he spits onto your palm with that cocky smirk.
“Come on, 4 minutes now.” He mutters and you don't hesitate to wrap your hands around his girth to stroke him up and down. You keep your eyes on him for a second more before he bucks his hips into your hands.
He cups your jaw again and his thumb and forefinger presses inside your mouth, pressing on your tongue and feeling how wet your mouth is before he gently coaxes his tip flat on your awaiting tongue and like a good girl, you lap at his dick slowly. Finding a vein running up the length of his cock you trace it with the tip of your tongue before Haknyeon sighs happily and pulls his hand away. You close your mouth and suckle, swishing your tongue around him a few times to get him slick with your saliva again as you begin to move.
“Fuck… like that, faster…3 minutes…faster baby~ you can do it…Haknyeon is breathless as you pick up the pace quickly, hands flat against his still leave covered thighs as you take him all the way down till your nose presses on his mesh shirt. A garbled moan leaves you and Haknyeon as your throat constricts around him as you gag a little. Pulling back, you repeat the motion. To and fro. To and fro. Before teasing his crown with the tip of your tongue collecting his pre cum. You swallow easily and take him down again to hear him wince and gasp desperate to keep quiet.
“Fuck fuck… shit…2 minutes -” the noise that leaves Haknyeon is sinful as you lean forwards and back, massaging his cock with your tight throat all the way till you feel the swell of his balls behind the leather against your neck. Your lip gloss is ruined, eyes teary and lashes closed against your cheeks as you suck and blow his cock like never before.
2 minutes. You can and will make him cum.
His hands find your hair and finally loses against all self restraint as he holds you against his pelvis and thrusts fast and deep into your hot awaiting mouth. A gag and a choke here makes sweat bead on his forehead and his mesh shirt starts to cling to him before he's ever entered the stage and performed. He grunts, biting his plush lip as he feels so close it hurts as he drags himself up and down.
You're knelt, strings of spit clinging to your mouth and Haknyeon's cock as he takes over finally and face fucks you to next week. Your voice will be sore, perhaps gone by tomorrow morning after all the shouting and screaming during the concert. You groan as Haknyeon pulls you as close as possible to his pelvis, ribbons of his cum flooding your mouth and you moan around him happily as he empties himself there with a few shallow thrusts that had him twitching and gasping.
“Holy fucking shit… “ he gasps, still holding you between his legs as his cock twitches and throbs in your wet mouth. He pulls you back gently and you swallow the remains of his cum with a dazed smirk.
“Told - told you I could make you cum in 5.” You say as Haknyeon gently begins to massage your neck and throat. His eyes have gone soft again. He tucks himself away and kneels for a second to help clean you up with a roll of tissues he finds on the shelf.
“I knew you could. Are you okay? Was I too rough?” He frets, cupping your jaw and kissing your cheek as you smile. “That was the best blow job I've ever given . I'm okay hakkie I promise, I'll still be screaming for you tonight,” you tease and Haknyeon chuckles at your crass joke before helping you stand. He makes sure you're both clean before he peaks out of the door.
“30 seconds boys!” A manager yells and he smirks, pulling you to his side and scrambling to find his mic pack before kissing your head.
“You're gonna do great.” You say and Haknyeon smirks.
“Oh I feel amazing now, I can't wait ~ be sure to watch me, babe,” he blows a kiss before the music begins to ramp up and you make a wild dash to your spot in the centre standing area.
All in all, you were definitely screaming his name all night - even after the show, that is.
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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Tommy Shelby + lipstick fluff and or anything please?
A/N - just something I wrote because it was Cillian's birthday and I don't have too much work to do. :))
"What the fuck are you doing?" A scolding voice broke your grave concentration as you were readjusting your hair pins .
"What?" You asked innocuously, and the envelope between your scarlet lips slipped out and on the table.
Your boss looked like he wanted to say many things, but instead, he only said, as if explaining it to a child, "Write another letter, will ya?"
"Fine." You huffed, trying not to roll your eyes as you pulled out a fresh paper from the bundle.
"And keep this one 'ere." He added, immune to your huffs and moods.
"Yes, Mr. Shelby." You droned, and didn't think much about your boss' strange demands.
***
Some days later, you were at the Garrison in your nice red dress and a darker red lipstick when someone came to stand beside you. And ignored you completely in favour of the barmaid for a glass of whisky.
"Mr. Shelby." You said solemnly.
"(y/n)." He replied in the same tone, passing a cursory glance in your direction.
"Congratulations on your brother's wedding." You said, not letting the happiness of the event creep into your words.
He nodded, taking a sip from the whisky glass.
"I suppose this calls for a staff holiday tomorrow?" You asked with a sudden beaming smile.
He kept looking at you, faintly amused and slightly in disbelief. "You've got lipstick inside your mouth, (y/n)."
Instead of getting flustered like you normally would've, you said airily,
"Oh. I didn't realise that. Thank you for letting me know, Mr. Shelby." You grinned wider, then reached inside your handbag to pull out your compact.
You were perusing your lipstick stained teeth when he hissed sharply. "Don't-"
You stopped and asked, dumbfounded. "What?"
Looking straight and not meeting your eyes, he muttered, as if embarrassed on your behalf. "There's a proper place for doing all this."
"Fine. I'll go fix my lipstick in the 'proper' lavatory where all the men can watch me because you didn't feel it pertinent to give us separate lavatories." You said in one breath, then hurried to set out in a blistering pace.
But he held your arm, bringing your huffy exit to a halt. "Go use my office."
"Why, thank you." You all but gritted out. But his grip did loosen, and you did make your way towards his office. With barely restrained excitement.
It was dark despite the gold and glitter outside in the pub. Somewhat like his life, you thought gloomily, as you walked further inside.
But this all you had seen. You wanted to see the things which were hidden. So after you had wiped the tiny, almost nonexistent smidge of red from your lips, you settled with opening the drawer of your employer's personal desk. Because it was so very normal to snoop around.
And when you did get to it, you found some things...inexplicable.
It was the supposedly discarded letter you had stained with your scarlet lipstick. Amongst other things. His white kerchief which you had borrowed to wipe your mouth. The tissue paper on which you had jokingly left a lipstick stain during lunch. And many other 'discarded' red stained letters.
"All done?"
Bumping against the drawer at his sudden entrance, you began hurriedly,
"Yeah, I'm sorry. I just..."
"You can leave." He said coolly.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude. I just...I am sorry."
Your profuse apologies continued as you made your way past him, but he held you to a stop, once again.
"Wait."
You looked at him questioningly, but he didn't answer. Instead, he brought his hand closer to your face until it was touching the side of your cheek.
Tommy Shelby. Touching. Your. Cheek.
All this was too much to handle, and you were surprised you didn't keel over and die then and there.
While you struggled to keep your breathing under control, Tommy Shelby's calloused thumb rubbed gentle circles on your burning skin but never did his icy blue, almost impassive eyes leave yours.
After what felt like an eternity, he finally stopped and pulled out a wrinkled white kerchief from his coat pocket.
As he leisurely wiped his thumb of the red lipstick, he said coolly, "This colour is every fuckin' where."
"Oh." You breathed.
"Yep." He conceded gravely, his eyes now intent on yours.
"I can remove it if you want." You said hastily, barely understanding your own words now.
"Hmm." He inhaled, as if considering the option. Then in a rare, almost playful voice, he continued,
"I think it'll be better if I take the matter in my own hands. Out of the both of us, I'm pretty sure I'm the expert here."
With that, he bent forward to 'take matters in his hands' and blew you away with his kiss on your lips.
For a brief moment your eyes went completely wide before you entirely succumbed to his expert ministrations. And you had to grudgingly (and a bit gushingly) admit he was the expert, through and through.
dean looked it up something like four months ago, out of curiosity and unsure if he’d have to save up for something like gold. but it’s paper. dean isn’t really sure how to translate paper into a gift cas will like--he tries to fold paper roses, but they come out looking squished every time. claire catches him at it once and tells him they look “mega lame”. so paper roses--or sunflowers, or lilacs, or lavender, or whatever--are out.
he considers stationary, but does cas want nice stationary? does he need a new notebook? what would he even write? if dean were buying for himself he could get a fancy new sketchbook, but cas can’t draw. he journals, sometimes, so dean looks for a nice journal, but none of them look like enough. a stupid journal--even a nice one--doesn’t fully represent what cas means to dean. so dean’s stumped. what do you get a guy whose true happiness is just being with you?
dean is drawing, one day, peering over the top of his sketchbook to try and capture the straight line of cas’ nose as he sits, facing the TV. cupcake wars is on, which dean likes, but drawing cas is more important. besides, right now they’re only baking so it’s not like he needs to look at the screen. dean likes cas’ nose. it’s straight and pointy. a proud nose. he looks down at his drawing of cas, then at his husband. cas’ hand is resting gently on dean’s socked foot. dean likes cas’ hands, too.
he turns the page on his sketchbook. instead of starting a new drawing, he writes:
-his nose
-his hands (big, warm, good at holding me)
-his shoulders
-his chest (best pillow)
-his hair
-his eyes (the most beautiful color ever)
dean pauses. he nibbles the edge of his eraser, looking at cas contemplatively. cas’ attention finally turns from the TV. “what?” he asks, tilting his head. dean grins.
“i love you,” he says, sing-songy, and cas’ expression melts.
“i love you too,” he says. “come here.” dean throws his sketchbook aside and crawls to the other end of the couch, trying to meld him and cas together, but later he takes his sketchbook up again and adds to his list.
-when he squints
-when he tilts his head
-when he’s a lil bitchy
-when he says “hello dean”
-his voice
dean keeps adding to the list. he finishes the page of his sketchbook, then he adds to it--a page torn out of notebook paper that lists the ways dean loves cas when cas is at the farmer’s market. a sticky note where dean writes a list of his favorite sweaters of cas’.
(number one is, obviously, the trenchcoat, even if it’s not a sweater).
by the time february rolls around, dean has a sizeable pile. lists, shitty poems, drawings he’s made of cas--his nose, his hair, his hands. the curve of his eyelashes, the bow of his lips. his wings, or at least what dean thinks they might look like. one of his favorite drawings is of cas and jack curled under the fuzziest blanket while they watched tangled together. dean took a yellow colored pencil to that one, trying to capture the way the light from the window had fallen on them.
on top of the pile he adds a red heart trimmed in lace with happy valentine’s day on top in white glitter glue--jack had helped with that one. some of the papers in dean’s pile are little hearts with dumb valentine’s day puns on them--bee mine, i donut know what i’d do without you, olive you. in the end, he isn’t sure how to present it, so when he wakes up on monday morning, tangled in cas’ arms, he gently extracts himself. cas sleeps like it’s a competition, maybe making up for millions of years without sleep, maybe just cause he likes being cozy. dean sneaks to the kitchen to make heart-shaped pancakes--they turn out a little lopsided, but he figures cas will appreciate them anyway. he plates them all nice, bacon on the side, and returns to their room, setting the tray gently on his side of the bed. he gets out the pile where it’s tucked in the bedside drawer and puts it on top of his nightstand, then crawls, careful as anything, to cas’ side.
he kisses him. cas shifts.
“wake up, valentine,” dean says against his mouth.
“don’t wanna,” cas says, voice heavy with sleep.
“come on, sweetheart,” dean cajoles. cas whines and kisses him, wrapping his arms around dean’s neck. when they break apart, dean says “i made you breakfast in bed.”
“you did?”
dean shifts, sitting properly. he retrieves the tray and puts it on cas’ lap. “happy valentine’s day,” he says, shyly, and cas ignores the food to kiss dean once, twice, thrice before dean laughs and says “your breakfast will get cold!”
“fine,” cas says. he eats, feeding dean bites of pancake between his own, occasionally bestowing syrup-sticky-sweet kisses to dean’s cheeks, to his lips. when the food is gone, dean puts the tray aside and takes a deep breath. he gathers up the pile and holds it close to his chest.
“what’s that?” cas asks. dean hands it over. he feels kind of like he’s handing over his heart. but dean is pretty sure if his heart is anywhere, it’s beat-beat-beating inside cas’ ribcage, so it’s not too hard to part with.
“happy anniversary,” he whispers, and cas sorts through the pile carefully, tenderly. dean curls up against his side, twisting his wedding ring around and around. one year down, he thinks, and forever to go.
“oh, dean,” cas says, running his fingers across a little sketch of a sleeping cas. “oh, my darling husband, my beautiful valentine. i love you more than words can say.”
“i love you more,” dean says. cas gently takes his jaw, tilts it upward.
“that can’t be true,” he says, and he kisses him again. dean is so glad that jack’s staying with sam and eileen today, cause he doesn’t really think he and cas are gonna get out of bed anytime soon. “if i loved you any more, i would burst.”
“well,” dean says, reaching for the pile of reasons he loves cas, touching it gently. “i kinda already did.”
(hours later, cas bestows a bouquet of perfectly folded paper flowers. dean laughs so hard he cries, then he kisses a confused cas absolutely breathless, and keeps them on his nightstand forever.)
