#firstwords

You are currently sitting on your bed watching Netflix with dodger and Isabella. A few minutes ago you got into bed with Isabella laying on your chest. When dodger saw you, or rather, Isabella being moved into yours and Chris’s bedroom, he naturally followed. Isabella and Dodger have a really good friendship.

Ever since you gave birth to her several months ago and brought her home, Dodger was immediately in love with her. He would always lick her face when she cried. He couldn't sleep unless he was next to her crib or close to her. And she always cried when Dodger wasn't there to play with her. 

Chris and you are always ogling over how cute their friendship is. The way Isabella makes cute giggling sounds when Dodger plays with her. The way she smiles when he licks her face. Your favorite part of the day is to watch your daughter, your husband, and your dog spending time together.  

“Honey, I’m home!” You hear Chris yell and then the front door shut.

“Upstairs!” You gently yell back. Trying not to make your daughter cry. You smile down at your baby snuggled up next to dodger, with his head laying down protectively over her legs.

You continue to watch ‘the vampire diaries’ and sit back more against the headboard. After a few seconds you hear footsteps making their way upstairs and start towards the bedroom. 

“Hey baby.” Chris says as he enters the bedroom. You look over at him and smile at how cute he looks. 

“You look cute.” You state. You see a blush spread across his cheeks as you stand up and walk towards him. 

“Why thank you. So do you.” He replies. You smile and wrap your arms around his neck, him wrapping his bulky arms around your waist after. You lean in and plant a kiss on his lips. 

“I missed you, Isabella, and Dodger today.” Chris says against your lips. You place another kiss to his lips. 

“We missed you too.” You say against his lips then continue to kiss him.

You both pull away from each other when you hear the sudden noise of your daughters very loud giggles and baby noises. You both look over at the bed and smile at the sight before you. 

Isabella is sitting up straight with Dodger in front of her. He is licking her face while she giggles and plays with him. You and Chris turn to each other with wide grins on your faces. Chris quickly takes out his phone and takes a picture.  ----------------

“Hey there sweet girl. You hungry?” You ask as Isabella starts to get fussy. As the words leave your mouth her grumbles and her screams start getting louder. When the screams leave her mouth, Dodger almost immediately comes running into the room to see if she is okay. 

You smile and pick Isabella up and place her in your lap. You pull up your shirt to reveal one of your breasts and hold your baby in place in front of your breast. Once she opens her mouth you carefully move her head closer to your breast and she latches on. 

Once you know that she is getting milk you sit back and smile at your kid. 

“I could hear her being fussy from downstairs. So I'm guessing she was just hungry.” Chris says as he appears in the doorway. You look at him and chuckle. 

“Yeah. When she started screaming Dodger ran in to make sure his best friend was okay.” Chris laughs and walks over to the bed. He pets Dodger, who is now laying on your legs with his head resting on your lap. 

“I'm sorry, did Isabella interrupt your interview with jimmy?” You ask. Chris shakes his head as he sits next to you and looks at the baby. 

“No, as soon as she started crying the interview ended.” He says. You smile and look down at Isabella. Chris chuckles and kissed your cheek. 

“She looks so determined.” He whispers in your ear. You laugh and turn towards Chris. 

“She gets her determined face from you. You make the same face.” You state. He scrunches his eyebrows together as he looks at your kid closer. 

“I do not.” 

“Yes you do.” You argue. He shakes his head but cant help but smile. 

After about 20 minutes or so of Isabella breastfeeding and you and Chris watching a movie Isabella lets go of your nipple and moves around in your arms. Probably wanting to play with Dodger now. 

“You done eating now Izzy?” Chris asks. She makes baby noises and nods her head. 

“Alright, lets let mama watch that movie and lets get in the bath.” He says before picking her up and walking into the bathroom. Dodger obviously following. You smile as you hear Isabella's little baby noises as Chris turns on the water. 

After a few minutes you decide to check up on Chris and Isabella. You move the blanket off of your legs and walk towards the bathroom. You knock on the door before opening it and peaking your head in. 

The sight before you instantly warming your heart. Chris is sitting in the bath, naked and with Isabella splashing the bubbled water around. Dodger is sitting on the floor patiently with his head resting on the side of the bath. 

“You guys having fun in here?” You ask. Chris looks over with you and smiles. Isabella makes more baby noises and starts to spread some bubbles on her daddy’s face.

Dodger barks causing Isabella to turn around and stumble towards where Dodger is. 

“Dodgwer!” You hear your baby girl say. Both you and Chris look at each other with huge smiles on your faces. 

“You said your first word!” You exclaim as you walk over towards the bath and kneel down on the floor. Chris smiles at Isabella, who is still petting the now super excited pup in front of her. 

“She said her first word.” Chris says. You turn towards him and smile. He leans in and presses a kiss to your lips. 

“We did good with her.” You state as you pull away from his lips. He smiles and nods. 

The rest of the night went on with you Chris and Isabella cuddled up together and watching your daughters favorite Disney movie. While Dodger sits at Isabella's feet and playing with his lion toy. 

Sometimes, Dad yells at me when he comes stumbling in through the motels' door. Yeah, I'm only eight, but I guess I've just had to grow up quicker than a normal eight-year-old.

Sammy my younger brother who's four is always and I mean always attached to my hips. Always asking me when's daddy coming home, or when we're going to get another room? He's a pretty sharp kiddo for being four years old.

I'd say he's a lot sharper than I was at the age of four, but then again I don't remember much about age four. All I do remember is that one day there was our mother kissing Sammy's forehead saying a sweet good night to him, and the next I'm running out with Sammy in my arms, looking at my younger brother's room go up in flames.

I guess not having mom around made things hard for Sammy and Dad. Dad never spent time with Sam, worried about the things in the dark as he phrased it to me.

"Now you promise me, Dean. That you'll take care of your younger brother no matter what!" John said his large hand pressing rather hard into my tiny shoulder.

You'd think Dad would already know that I've taken care of Sammy for the past four years. Taught him how to brush his teeth, color in between the lines took naps with him in the back of the impala, or falling asleep in the crappy motels that always stunk.

"Yes, sir." Was the only thing I ever said to my father anymore.

He wasn't there as Sam took his first steps, his first birthday, he missed his first birthday. I was only five years old, and there I sat in a motel room with a one-year-old who was quiet. Since thank god he was asleep right now.

Hell for a kiddo that was only six months old when our mother, he was strangely quiet like I was. I never said more than what was needed, I always made sure Sammy had his food before I.

I made sure that kid was safe and in caring arms before thinking of myself. Because thinking of myself wasn't allowed, not in this world that Dad had created.

I guessed before we started to bounce from motel to motel Dad had brought some of my things from when I was a baby, like my building blocks, some he-man dolls, and some of the cards that had letters on them.

That's what I did with Sam in my free time, birthdays later and Sam can move the cards around to make the certain word I'm talking about.

"Now how about we do the word 'Carrot'" I said putting the cards out in front of Sam's grabby fingers and hands. Moving things around making the word, and then going off and chucking them out of his hands and all over the floor.

"Well, I thought that this was going to go better," I said getting up and grabbing the cards. We did this process over and over again. I'd hand him a few cards and then Sam would chuck them into the air.

"Okay, Sammy I know that you don't wanna do this but maybe just say one word just for me. Hell, say Daddy, or Dean. Just help me out here." I said, starting to give up.

He didn't and he continued to give me a hard time about the cards and saying pretty much anything. We stopped and I grabbed him from the high chair.

I cooked dinner and set the table and set down Sammy for him to eat. He sat and ate his food before Dad got home.

Again another night of Dad coming back through the motel's door and ragging at me, every time I made sure that Sam was put down for bed.

I was supposed to protect my younger brother and that... that was the only way I know how to protect him. I was okay with taking the brunt of dad's abuse.

The brunt of Dad's abuse was usually him yelling, and screaming at me. There wasn't physical abuse, but I'd been dealing with a drunk, abusive dad for a while now. Since mom had died.

Regardless, I thought that Sam was asleep, so I left the room closing the door just enough so the dim light from the kitchen didn't bother him.

"Where s'my dinner Dean?" John asked me. I stuttered over my words and fiddled with my hands. "Boy, you better answer me!" John said raising his voice at me.

"Sir, I didn't have any time. I've been taking care of Sammy all day long." I said panic and worry starting to flow through my words.

"Boy, don't you make your brother an excuse. You should be able to take care of Sam, me, and yourself." John said, getting up, and hovering over my much shorter stature.

"I didn't teach you everything I did just for you to come out as a sissy. You're a marine's son, you're a hunter's son." John said, raising his hand to hurt me in whatever shape.

I hadn't heard the bedroom door open or seen little Sam waddle his way into the room. "De?" Sam said.

There was a moment of silence. A moment where we, dad and I were frozen in place. "What?" I said looking over at Sam. His already long hair in a messy mop on his head. The long dinosaur t-shirt hanging long on his short stature.

"De?" He said moving his head to the side.

"Yeah, De. What's up buddy?" I said moving rather quickly to be away from John. Picking Sam up and hooking him onto my hip. He just grabbed my neck and pulled himself closer to me.

"Dean was... was that Sam's first word?" He said settling onto the motel bed. The springs became rather loud as his weight balanced through the bed.

"I'm pretty sure, sir," I said, rubbing down Sams back trying to lul him back to sleep. "Do you wanna go to daddy?" I whispered to Sam. All Sam did was shake his head, and then repeated "De."

'Good night dad." I said walking back into the room I had placed Sam in hours ago. "Good night son," John said as I shut the door. "Let's go to bed now Sammy," I said.

Sam nuzzled up in my chest, falling asleep before he even hit the bed. I smiled and climbed into the bed. Making sure to always be there and protect my little brother. I love Sam, and he’s mine to protect, he’s my baby brother.

“…don’t you think, Kurogane?” Tomoyo asks, turning to look at her brother as they make their way towards the subway. He has no idea what she just said, but chances are good it probably had something to do with the Kinomoto girl. He nods, and she seems satisfied.

He doesn’t usually ignore his favorite sister. He just can’t help that something else has captured his attention.

There’s that blond again, in the same stupid uniform, at the same stupid coffee shop. That guy somehow manages to wind up wiping the tables outside every damn time he and Tomoyo pass by on their way their respective schools. Kurogane knows that it could just be a routine. Maybe the blond always comes out to tidy the patio at the same time of morning, but something tells Kurogane the jerk does this on purpose. He’s fairly certain he watched the idiot wipe down an already spotless surface as Kurogane passed by more than once, too-blue eyes staring amusedly at him the whole time.

Asshole. What right does he have to stand there looking so damn attractive every morning, unaffected no matter how viciously Kurogane glares his way. Pretty face and long limbs and the way he moves—He’s interesting. He makes Kurogane, ever so slightly, nervous.

What a dick.

The blond stops what he’s doing just as they pass, meets Kurogane’s glare as effortlessly as always, and winks.

He fucking winks.

“Do you know that person?” Tomoyo asks him, softly, and Kurogane hurries to race down the rest of the block before either of them can see the shade his face is turning. He imagines he hears the sound of someone’s musical laugh chasing behind.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

The next day, he’s there again. Of course he is.

“He seems nice,” Tomoyo announces, “you should talk to him sometime.” Like clockwork, the man at the café distracts Kurogane from what his sister means to tell him. He hums distantly in answer, watching his tormentor move. Those slim shoulders flex quite nicely as the jerk works to clean the glass of his storefront, some kind of squeegee in hand.

God, what is he doing? He doesn’t need more daydream food. He has more than enough already. He doesn’t want it. Kurogane will deny it until the day he dies, but at the heart of things, he maybe might be a closet romantic. He’ll wait to fall head over heels until he hears the ridiculous diatribe scrawled in large, looping letters over the canvas of his back, thank you very much. He doesn’t want…. Whatever this weird fixation is.

Really.

They step closer, and just when he thinks he might finally slip by without those blue eyes sliding mercilessly towards his, Tomoyo does the strangest thing.

“Morning!” She calls across the street, waving. Blondie catches sight of her motion reflected on dark glass and turns to wave back.

“Tomoyo, what the hell are you doing,” Kurogane grits through his teeth. He wants to look away, but he’s doomed to catch the man’s gaze again. Tomoyo is a traitor.

He reaches over and stills his sister’s wrist, desperate to slip by without further embarrassment. That damn wink had already been permanently mired in his thoughts. He thinks it won’t bother him so badly if the guy tries again, but he would much rather avoid it all the same.

So of course that asshole meets his intimidating scowl with a wicked grin. Of course, he lifts that previously waving, long-fingered hand to his lips and blows a kiss.

“Oh my, you’re very red right now.” His traitor sister does not need to tell him. He very much knows.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Today, he simply plans to hide from it. Maybe he has to face that guy again at some point, but “some point” is not right now. The kind of dreams he had last night….

He will absolutely 100% not walk past the café today. Tomoyo would notice if he asked her to walk a different route, so he won’t walk with Tomoyo. He can afford to skip his first class. Totally and completely worth it.

“Sorry. It’s what I get for putting the damn paper off so long,” he lies. “I’ll have to head in after I manage to print this out.”

There is no way his sister believes him. He almost expects the searching gaze she subjects him to.

He does not expect her to figure out the reason for his avoidance so quickly, but when she returns home with an empty coffee sleeve, he knows he’s been made.

“I had extra time, so I stopped in that café today. That nice man we always see in the morning was there.” Kurogane can feel his teeth grinding together.

“Of course he was,” he bites.

“He asked me where you were, you know? I told him you put your homework off too long and he agreed you don’t seem like the type.” Great. Okay, he gets it already; she knows this is simply an act of cowardice. “Anyway, he seemed very cute and you did go very red yesterday. So I got his phone number for you.”

…what?

Tomoyo places the sleeve in front of him, facing it so Kurogane can see the digits scrawled beneath a doodle of a winking cat.

He sees a flash of burning-blue in his mind’s eye, the lines of that handsome face—

Where the hell does this asshole get off trying to be so smooth!? Kurogane folds the damn sleeve in half and half again, ignoring the way Tomoyo tuts. He crumples it, tries as hard as he can to put that idiot out of his mind.

(He doesn’t throw it away. )

~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~ ~*~

He wakes up in a bad mood. Souma mentioned he missed a pop quiz in the class he skipped yesterday, which is entirely that cute—that jerk’s fault. Tomoyo is miffed at him for ignoring her ‘crucial contributions as a wingman,’ and they’re running a bit late on their way to the subway this morning.

To top it all off, when he makes it within view of the café, blondie is nowhere in sight.

Ugh, just fuck that guy, seriously. It’s the first weekday in nearly three months that asshole hasn’t been out front to watch the two of them walk by. And doesn’t it just figure that today’s the day Kurogane finally thought he might get enough courage to walk up and say something. Of course today’s the day he finally gives up.

He wants to stroll right into that store, get right in that handsome face and say—

Oh.

Oh no.

“No time to pause, big brother, I can’t be late today! Sakura said she got a haircut last night and I have to see!” Tomoyo’s voice shakes him out of his shock. Kurogane stares at her blankly for a moment longer, fingers the thin, folded cardboard in his pocket.  

“Go ahead. I’ll take the next train.” He tells her, looking pointedly away. He knows he’s going to catch hell for this at home later, but at least she doesn’t have time to tease him right this instant. She dashes off, braided hair trailing behind her.

Kurogane lifts the cat drawing from his pocket, smooths it, thinks about the looping handwriting of those numbers.

God. Damn it.

He shoves the thing violently back, and furiously j-walks across the street without even bothering to check for cars. He pays no heed to the honking or the angry driver yelling in his wake save to flip them off behind his back, pulls the shop door open with entirely more force than necessary.

The customers in line don’t appreciate him elbowing his way to the barista counter, but they can rot for all he cares. He’d like to see them try something. His mission takes absolute priority.

“Fuck you.”

Finally, Finally, he manages to kick a reaction out of the blond jerk who’s been wordlessly flirting with him for months. Shock fills his pretty eyes, lips quirking into an uncertain, softer smile. He opens his damn mouth and Kurogane knows exactly what the idiot will say.

“Ah, so it is you! I figured you might be the kind of guy obnoxious enough to let ‘fuck you,’ be the first thing you ever say. Do you realize how much trouble your damn words have brought me all these years?”

Doesn’t it just figure that this jerk has a nice voice too? 

“About as much as that fucking essay has brought me, I’d assume,” Kurogane drawls, torn between annoyance and elation.