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( sms ⟶ johnny castle !! ⟶ delivered ) — ‘ should i ask what it is at the moment? ’ ( sms ⟶ johnny castle !! ⟶ delivered ) — ‘ well y’know. who wouldn’t? ’ ( sms ⟶ johnny castle !! ⟶ delivered ) — ‘ it’s fun to see you squirm. ’
*:･ﾟ✧ — @fightingcchance // continued — ✧ !!
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contact ——— ❪ street rat ❫ 1:05 am ⟶ ‘ yes, i’m awake. ’ 1:05 am ⟶ ‘ calm down. i’m here. ’ 1:06 am ⟶ ‘ what’s wrong? ’
❪ ♡ ❫ — @fightingcchance // continued — ♡ !!
@fightingcchance ------ tyler + dean starter
One of them had been successful that Sunday night. Breeze was not the one... but Dean was. It had taken a toll on Tyler. Only because of the internal battle within himself to congratulate him or sulk in his own loss. One would reveal that he had been sitting, watching Dean’s match... had enough in him to even care about Dean’s win ( but weren’t they pass that? Pass trying to fake these things? It was just habit at this point ). Still, they were at work... they didn’t like to show whatever this was in public. So, instead, Tyler leaned his frame onto wall. He was still in his gear, but a sweater was thrown over it. Not the best fashion choice but it’d have to do. “...Team Blue is still more gorgeous, at least.” It was the best he could do, looking at the Shield member.
continued from @rcbuild x ||
“You’re such a damn baby,” Dean complained. His shirt was practically stuck to his chest, he couldn’t unstick it even if he wanted to and here this guy was lamenting that they were possibly going to die. Man, he couldn’t take him anywhere. Admittedly, when they’d left there hadn’t been a cloud in the sky but now it was like the heavens had opened on them.
He should have hated it, should have been irritated that he was soaked to the skin but he couldn’t bring himself to care too much. The shoulder at his own grounded his thoughts to a reality in which they were okay now, they were still mending a lot of things but they were on the right path. Briefly he looked up at the sky and back at Seth before shrugging his jacket off. “Here, take it - can’t have you whining when you catch a cold.”
( @fightingcchance )
He fell asleep all the time, all over the place at any time so it wasn’t anything new. What was new that he wasn’t alone, more often that not he’d be perched on a random chair in a random place but now he was on a couch very much with company. Almost immediately he recollected exactly who his company was without much difficulty. Slowly his eyes blinked open, and a smirk crept up his face. Yeah, it was Tyler without a second look. The pair of them were slightly tangled up, at least their legs were. He wasn’t quite sure how they ended up like that. There were arms around his waist and a face mushed into his chest. The only sign it was Tyler, the mess of blond hair sticking out all over the place. Oh he’d be so mad. Dean moved his arm and lightly shook his sleep partner’s shoulder, “Yo, sleeping beauty, time to get up.”
It wasn’t often Tyler just... slept somewhere. In fact he could be a bit picky about where he decided to nap. It would need to be a place of utmost comfort. The only places this didn’t call for such a standard were planes and that’s just because all of them were uncomfortable but what else was Tyler going to do? Talk to people? If they weren’t Dango or anyone to help their case, then blonde wasn’t interested. But how Tyler had ended up here? Well tired nights and comfortable couches did that to him, but the company? That wasn’t a regular. Waking up to the voice, he whined at first, burying his head deeper and holding tighter just in a protest. “I don’t want to wake up...” Words muffled... and then Tyler realized he was on a person. And judging by who he was near last... oh god. Pushing back suddenly, he looked up. “Dean!” And then he pushed even harder.... up until he was the one who fell off the couch entirely. “Shit!”
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@fightingcchance
The night air was fresh on his skin, took the warmth that had filled his cheeks while he was amongst the crowds of people inside. He was on the bench at the end of the garden, a garden he’d never been in before and it was thankfully quiet. Life and soul echoed from in the house, a welcome reminder that Dean hadn’t actually been invited but hadn’t been turned away either. His presence was for the soul purpose of seeking out, of getting under the skin of one particular person and yet he hadn’t seen him. All in all it’d been uneventful, not worth the effort of finding the party in the first place.
At least he thought that up until the moment the bench creaked beside him, his eyes had been too focused on the stars to notice that there had been anyone anywhere near him. His guard wouldn’t have been so down otherwise. Instantly he stiffened, prepared to lash out if need be. But he softened when he saw the shock of blond hair he’d been looking for all night, and felt him snuggle in tight to Dean’s side. His arm lifted to accommodate the taken space and it rested on the back of the bench, nowhere else. “How did you know I was here?”
Of course, Tyler had been at this party... he was always in the know of everything. Even when he didn’t want to be, information and invitations came his way. Tyler didn’t mind them. He liked being a part of things... liked being with people especially when they really wanted him to be there. This party was one of those cases. Fandango, very good friend of his, was the host and everyone knew a Dango party was a party worth going to. By association Tyler was co-host. He didn’t mind. Anything for Dango. It was well into the party that he had noticed Dean. The boy that had been wiggling himself into his life as of late. Purposely toying with him in a way that usually ended up in Tyler frustrated. He had, at first, been avoiding him. Telling himself that he did not want anything to do with that tonight. But a part of him really wanted to speak to him, to be around him... and that’s why he had followed him out into the gardens.
“I didn’t.” He lied with confidence. After all, he wasn’t going to tell Dean that he was looking for him. “It’s not all about you. I wanted to stroll around Fandango’s gorgeous gardens. ...But I am cold and the only person here is you so...” The excuse was lame. It was completely lame, actually. But it was what he was going to go with. “...What are you even doing here?”
continued from @ringsoldiers x ||
It wasn’t a lie. He knew, they both knew damn well that it was the truth. Dean really couldn’t keep his hands to himself, and it was getting worse, getting harder to resist the urge to just touch. But he didn’t appreciate being called out on it, not one bit. Not least when it was the same for the man in front of him. They gravitated toward one another whether they liked to admit it or not. Every inch of him needed that itch scratched, needed that taste of something different, something that he desperately wanted to corrupt. Not something that pulled him under as well, he didn’t get corrupted. He took a step closer as if challenging Tyler right then to stop him, “If you didn’t want my dirty hands on you, you only had to stop me!” he huffed out a breath, “You’re not exactly pushing me away when you’re getting your kicks.”
@fightingcchance
“Me?” he questioned, rocking back on his heels with a smile on his face. “Nah man, you should be totally serious I got the voice of an angel.” He did not, in fact, have the voice of anything even remotely resembling an angel. But the few drinks in him gave him all the motivation he needed to warble at the top of his lungs, no matter how much it embarrassed his friend. Dean rested a hand on his shoulder, “Look, I’m not saying it’s my true calling but,” he leaned a little on him, “When I’m bringing in the big bucks, you’ll never see me for dust.”
Roman could not hide the snort he let out no matter how hard he tried. Dean? A voice of an angel? More like a voice of gravel. “If singing is your true calling, then I suggest you hang up. Because it’s got the wrong number, Dean.” Shaking his head, chuckle slipping by, he tapped a finger on the top of his beer bottle before bringing it to his lips. “But, fine, Johnny Cash...” He took a pause to take a swig of his drink. “...Sing me something. I’ll tell you if it’s your ‘calling’. Or my ears will just bleed, whichever comes first.” Toothy, cheeky grin.
