#a man's gotta manicure and beer sometimes

[kabeddon]

Time for girl's night out :sparkle:

[hops-hunny]

College Girls

Pairing: Rodrick Heffley x Reader

Pronouns: She/Her

Word Count: 2.2k

Request: anon “How about Rodrick invites the reader to a party (he’s been crushing on her for the longest) but she plays hard to get and at the party her friends try to convince her to give him a chance and later it leads to them playing 7 minutes in heaven and they confess to each other and it goes from there ;) it could end in smut or fluff your way ly <3”

Summary: (college!au) College girls and their games, good thing Rodrick loves to play.

Warnings: Mentions of weed and alcohol, making out, teasing

A/N: Ok I forgot to make them confess but it’s implied sorry anon. I still hope you enjoy it!

If there was one thing Rodrick knew, college was a shit ton different than high school was. However, that wasn’t a bad thing. Unlimited booze and bud, hot chicks, and parties that never ended? He was practically in heaven! He had grown into himself, feeling more confident than ever since Heather had rejected him his senior year. In fact, he couldn’t recall the last time he thought about her but if he had to pinpoint it, it was a few months ago when she had hit him up, begging the boy to give her a chance. Oh the irony behind that. That was another good thing about college. In high school, all the girls thought he was just some loser who wasted too much time on a band that would always be shit. 

But with years of experience under their belt and more free time to practice, Löaded Diaper was beginning to become a big deal in their rinky dink shithole off a small town. God was he glad too because with clout, also came hot girls in skirts that barely covered their ass. The opportunity for endless amounts of hookups was an absolute dream come true, but all dreams lose their shine eventually. When fucking became a mere thing to pass the time between class, gigs, and parties, he realized that it wasn’t as great as he thought it was. He was starting to crave something more, something like or, someone like- her.

God she was a babe. Rodrick still remembered the first time he saw her. Löaded Diaper was doing another house gig, everyone in the crowd dancing and moving to the intense music. And all of a sudden, a strobe light glossed over her perfectly, almost like a halo of blue light and his eyes were hooked. She was there with her friends, one of them whispering something in her ear which caused her to lock eyes with his. Pretty (e/c) eyes meeting his own brown ones. It was almost perfect, almost. As soon as they had finished the last note of their song, without missing a beat she swiftly made her exit and he made his way after her. Rodrick jumped off the stage, chasing after her and her friends all the way till they reached the curb. He grabbed her arm causing the girl to look back.

“Hey, uh, did you enjoy the gig?” He asked, running his fingers through his sweaty hair nervously. He felt his nerves rise even more at the sound of her friends’ giggles.

“I wouldn’t have stayed the whole gig if I didn’t, would I?” she retorted, rolling her eyes as she began to open the passenger door of the black mercedes.

“Yeah, I guess that was a dumb question..” he trailed off as she closed her door. His eyes widened at the fact he hadn’t gotten her name prompting him to take off after the car. He felt relieved as the girl rolled down her window, looking up at him through her thin framed sunglasses. “Wait! I didn’t get your name, I’m Rodrick.” he smirked, watching as she pulled her sunglasses up to rest on the top of her head.

“Didn’t give it.” she quipped, sending him a wink as her friend took off into the distance. Who was she? All he knew about her was that she had a mouth on her and lived on the other side of campus. A lot of girl’s fit that description so it wasn’t easy asking around about her. However, as he stood here in the corner of the party his fraternity was throwing, he’d recognize a pair of nice legs like that from anywhere. His eyes took in her appearance. She had on a denim mini skirt, black turtleneck and a pair of knee high boots that matched. The boy had to practically stop himself from gawking at how good she looked, curves clinging to every bit of the form fitting outfit. He cleared his throat as his friend nudged him, looking to see what he wanted.

“Uh don’t look now, but I think that girl you were eye fucking is definitely eye fucking you back dude. Is that the chick from the gig a few weeks ago that you won’t shut up about?" Rodrick glared at the man, shoving him into the wall before walking towards her. He watched as her friends “coincidentally” all began to head off in other directions, leaving her to offer him a flirty little smile behind the drink she’d been nursing.

“Well if it isn’t the little drummer boy! To what do I owe the pleasure, Rodrick?” she purred, sitting down her now empty cup. She stepped forward, leaving them to be pressed chest to chest. It could easily be blamed on the crowded room but the two knew otherwise. He smirked back at her, wrapping his arms around her waist securely.

“I’m a simple man. I see a pretty girl sending looks my way, I come.” his eyes widened as he began to overthink his word choice. “N-not like that! Like I come over not like cum in my pants. I-I’m not like some virgin...well I’m not some man whore either! I don’t fuck around a lot. Not like the option isn’t there bu-” he quit his nervous ramblings at the sound of her laughter. He relaxed, smiling as the girl wrapped his arms around her neck. He began to lean in thinking she would ask him for a kiss but instead she missed his lips, putting hers next to his ear before whispering,

“Wanna dance?” Before he could answer, the girl (who’s name he still didn’t catch) was dragging him to the dance floor, moving his hands to rest on her hips. He tried to keep his movements as fluid as possible. It took him a bit but eventually his movements matched hers, as they swayed to the beat of the song. She pressed her head against his shoulder, looking up at him as she continued the movements against his pelvic area. “I love this song, it’s one of my favorites.” she whispered. He didn’t know if it was because he was cross faded or his enjoyment of the movements but D’Evils by SiR was beginning to become one of his favorite songs too. How could it not when there was such a pretty girl pressed against his front?

“Yeah? It suits you.” he muttered, leaning his head down to hover his own chapped lips above the girl’s soft gloss covered ones. She hummed in agreement, both of them slowly inching towards each other before she stopped, letting out a cheeky giggle.

“Did you really think I was going to kiss you that easily? You’ve gotta earn it.” She said, dragging a manicured hand against the skin of his neck. He shivered a bit as goosebumps formed, watching as she disappeared back into the crowd. He swore some, groaning as he fiddled with the growing bulge in his jeans. Was he out of the game for too long or had girls always been this hard to get? Either way, he didn’t care. Rodrick was gonna get this girl and her name by the end of the night if it was the last thing he ever did. He broke out of his thoughts, keeping sight of her figure making its way through the beaded curtain which led to the basement of the large frat house. Quickly he chased after her, trying to keep up with her. And, as if on purpose, every time he’d get close she’d flash him that breathtaking smile and continue on her path. Finally, she reached her supposed destination, a small group of people on couches, discussing the plans to play something. 

“So, what’s the game?” He asked, causing everyone to look up at him as he sat on the couch farthest from her. He looked at the bottle in the center of the table, proud of himself and his seating choice. The further he was away, the more likely the bottle was to land on the pretty thing across from him.

“7 minutes in heaven. You down?” A brunette girl asked, a flirty look in her buzzed eyes. He ignored her small attempt at an advance, nodding as he locked eyes with the girl of the hour. He shot her a wink, smirking as she rolled her eyes, biting her lip to hide the smile that was making its way onto her face. For someone so adamant about playing this game of cat and mouse, she seemed to be fighting off her feelings very harshly. None of that mattered now though. If there was a god, he hoped he’d be on his side. Never had he wanted to be stuffed inside a muggy dark closet with someone so badly.

“Of course I’m down. Do I look like a pussy to you?” he asked, watching as the (h/c) haired girl opened her mouth. He gave her a pointed look, tilting his head at her. “Don’t answer that, legs.” The girl looked surprised at the nickname but didn’t say anything, trailing her acrylic nails up the curve of her thigh. His brown eyes followed curiously, jumping slightly as she closed her legs quickly giving him a mocking pout. Tonight was going to be a long night.

-------------------------------------------------

Round after round was filled with surprises, none involving Rodrick or the mystery girl of his affections. Sometimes, the two people involved would cheer or jump up excitedly, ceasing the moment that they were desperately waiting for. Other times they would groan in disgust and hell, he couldn’t blame him with the hygiene of some of these people. Have they ever even heard of a shower, deodorant? Only their BO could tell. However, his odds grew more and more as it was finally his turn to spin the bottle. He picked it up, kissing the empty beer bottle as he made up some prayer. He let out a deep breath before spinning the bottle. As he watched it spin, the only thought he could seem to form was, ‘Please, please please. Cmon, cmon, cmon!’

Finally the bottle began to halt, making a rumbling noise as it stopped. His eyes followed the nose of it, letting out an internal cheer as his eyes met the (e/c) eyes from across from him. He pulled up his jeans before walking over to the girl, holding a hand out to her. She eyed it before smirking up at him, allowing her to pull him up. Rodrick looked down at her hand before tangling his fingers with her own, pulling her towards the closet. Once they both were in there, silence overcame them leaving the muffled music from upstairs to be the filler between silent space. He cleared his throat some, catching the shorter girl’s attention.

“Sooo, um. Would this count as earning it?” He quipped, giving her a flirty grin. The girl rolled her eyes before moving closer to him, pulling him down to her own height as she wrapped her arms around his neck. Rodrick wasted no time, pulling the girl by her hips and planting his on hers. The kiss was everything he’d hope it’d be. Passionate, hot, and filled with every bit of desire that had built up over the course of the party. He nibbled at her lip, causing a moan to slip from her lips. He smirked a bit, pulling away some to look into her eyes a bit.

“I’ll admit, I wasn’t expecting you to be a good kisser. You looked like you would give me a lot of teeth and too much tongue.” she giggled some, tugging his bottom lip between her teeth before releasing it. He rolled his eyes, smirking as he leaned in, nibbling on her neck a bit. He felt victory overcome him at the soft whimper that came from her lips.

“My pride’s a bit wounded, princess.” he purred, lifting her up as he pinned her against the wall. He leaned back in for another kiss, this one more deep and intense than the last. He groaned softly as she tangled her fingers in his hair, gripping at it slightly. He slid his tongue over her bottom lip, quickly tangling it with hers when she opened her mouth. They’re tongues danced a bit, fighting for dominance before he won. He absorbed her moans, sucking on her tongue as he slid a hand under her skirt, stroking the skin of her upper thighs. Rodrick noted how soft her skin was before gripping at it harshly, stroking her hips with his thumbs.

Just as he slid his hands under her shirt, a knock broke them out of their kiss. He groaned in annoyance, pulling away and fixing her clothes for her as the door was ripped open. The (e/c) eyed girl was the first to walk out, looking back at him as if she had something to say.

“(Y/n).” she said, causing him to look at her in confusion. “My name? It’s (Y/n). I hope this isn’t a habit of yours, making out with girls whose names you don’t even know.” she said, looking up at him expectantly. His mouth opened and closed as he stuttered, searching for the words to say. He cleared his throat before grabbing her hand, beginning the path to his own room.

“Not anymore it isn’t.”

[artisticestheticreads]

ROXANNE

A/N: So, I have been hearing this song every where and ending up downloading when I got an idea for this one shot. I think I saw a one shot by @hearteyes-for-killmonger​ (I could be wrong though. It was so long ago.) where Erik raced a woman but this is nothing like that. I was just inspired by the racing idea. 

Warning: nothing...I don’t think.

Song Recommendation: ROXANNE - Arizona Zervas

Word Count: 1685

It was a very chill, basic night and Erik was of course in his flashy all matte black Jaguar. He was playing music from the late and great TuPac, bopping his head. Erik was stuck at home but decided to go out for a drive and maybe pull up to the Mexican Food spot.

He was stuck at a red light when a Lambo, all gold pulled up beside him on his left. He was giving the gentleman his props in his head since he couldn’t see pass the other car’s tinted windows. The other driver looked over at Erik as their freshly manicured hands gripped the wheel, revving up their engine.

“This nigga don’t know who he dealing with”, Erik chuckled as he did the same. As the green light flashed, they were off. They both maneuvered through traffic with ease and Erik had to admit he was impressed; Erik took a look at the driver’s license plate and read ROXXX. The other driver spun in a circle making them drive backwards as the top went down and what Erik saw surprised him even more. It was a brown skin woman with auburn hair, blow dried curls with a pair of cute cheeks, and full glossed lips and dimples.

The woman winked as she spun back around, driving ahead of Erik. Erik smirked slyly and caught; up checking her out more before they both stopped at the light. He leaned out his window on his arms and said “what you know about driving like that, little one?” She looked at him as her hands were 10 and 2, looked at him with lustful brown eyes and said “way more than you pretty boy.”

Erik smirked as they still waited; eyes on the lights. He spoke out loud and said “you should give me your number. So we can race again sometime.” She shook her head and said ”only if you beat me. Where ya heading to?”

“The Mexican food joint up the way.”

“Rosa’s?”

“Yeah.”

“Aight, if I win, you gotta pay for my food and I don’t give you my number.”

“What if I win?”

She giggled as she smiled and said “that’s if ya beat me, handsome.” She drove past him and he eventually caught up. They were neck and neck when he looked over at her. The street lights flowed against her exposed arms which were covered in numerous tattoos and look as if she was nude. Her eyes were on the street ahead in the zone when she turned left so he turned right. Erik couldn’t help but think about Roxxx. He barely knew her but wanted to get to at least. Her style in cars and driving techniques were phenomenal and he wanted to just pick her brain. How can a beautiful woman like that be so good at driving? I mean it was 2020 and woman could do anything men did but maybe even better. He also wondered what else she can ride.

Erik pulled up to the spot and noticed her car wasn’t around. He shook his head as he thought she left him hanging. He stepped out of his car fixing his tossed locs and Levi jeans with crisp white tee and all white Adidas. “Finally you got here”, he heard from across the street. There she stood, leaning on her car with arms and ankles crossed. Her shapely figure was covered by a white tube top, a pair of jean shorts and white Converse. Her thigh was home for a panther tattoo and cheetah print on her opposite calf. She threw her sunglasses behind her in the car and began walking towards him across the street.

It seemed as if they were in slow motion because he watched as the bounce in her thighs, chest and hair reflected the headlights of the cars who had stopped. He stood smirking to himself once she got onto the curb. He looked down at her small physique and said “you are a little one, huh?” She looked away smirking then back to him and said “at least I didn’t lose, big man. You own me some tacos.” She walked past and he got the perfect view of her behind. He bit his lip but heard “ya comin’ or you just gonna stare at my ass the whole time, chief?” Roxxx turned to him slightly until he started walking.

  There they stood, side by side looking up at the menu. Erik looked at the 5’6 ½ woman and noticed her beautiful round face as she paid him no mind. She tucked her hair behind her ear and showed off her dagger tattoo on her neck right behind the ear. “Gah damn, this girl is fine as hell. Look at her all bronze and flawless and shit. It was worth losing to her. She probably make a nigga bow down to her Shit, I’m wit it”, he thought to himself. She looked down at her nails and around until she saw Erik who now looked at the menu. ”Hm, damn he is good looking as fuck. He can dress, keeps his nails clean. I don’t see ring on his finger. Look like he can break backs, necks and hearts if he wanted too. Beard full and I know he got a big d-“, she thought but was interrupted by the cashier. “Yeah, my bad. I want four tacos, with everything, carne asada and green chile salsa on the side. Oh and a large pina colada slushie.”

“I’ll get a wet chicken burrito, no beans, extra meat and cheese and salsa on the side with a root beer”, said Erik as he pulled out a roll of money from his pocket. “That will be $24.94” said the man in a think Spanish accent; Erik handed him the exact amount and they grabbed their drinks. She led the way out to the side tables and said on the bench; he sat beside her. “So, who taught you how to drive”, he asked sipping his drink. Roxxx sipped from hers and said “my god mom. She was racer while I was growing up until she got ill. She still around but she ain’t racing no more. What about you?”

“My damn self. I grew up by myself”, Erik said matter of factually. Roxxx pulled her straw in and out and she stirred her drink as he watched. “What’s her name”, she asked and Erik got confused until she said “ya car. What’s her name?” He chuckled and said “you asking my car name but not mine?” She rolled her eyes and looked at him. “Fine, what is yours then?”

“Erik but everyone call me Killmonger.”

“Killmonger? Like the ex vet?” He looked at her with a rose brow and asked “how you know that?”

“You cool with my god brother, D’Angelo. The dark skin with the dark hair and gap in between his teeth.” Erik smiled and said “awe shit. Yeah, I am. We go way back.” Roxxx nodded and said “yeah, I know. I mean you and I never met because I moved around a lot but D used to talk about you a lot until…”, Roxxx stopped at the memory of seeing her late brother murdered in front of his home. She still remembered the new reports saying how he was a blood but that was all fake news. D’Angelo was just a video game nerd who never held a gun outside of GTA. She missed him a lot but the tears wouldn’t bring him back. Erik nodded and said “yeah, I remember when his girl told me. I’m sorry for that.”

“Don’t be. Shit happens. D’Angelo actually thought convinced me into get Goldie over there. That’s was his name for her but I thought it was a cheesy name so I named him Angel”, she sipped her drink with a small smile and he did the same. “So, what you do”, he asked and she told him “nothing much. I race every once a week for tons of money. I usually get top three and get at least 200,000 for a race.” Erik nodded and said “that’s a shit ton of money.” She giggled and said “that’s why I do it, Killmonger.” They smiled at one another and soon ate when the employee came out. They talked more and after they ate, they did more. “So, you telling me Love and Basketball is wack”, Erik asked and Roxxx nodded. “It would still be good if they didn’t outplay that shit on BET.” Erik chuckled as they dapped one another and Roxxx watched him. “Does your girl watch it”, she asked making Erik smile. “I don’t got one.”

“Why ya lying” I know you got plenty of women on ya dick, 24/7.”

“Nah, I ain’t feeling it. What about you? With how ya looking, I know you got niggas drooling when you come their way.” She smirked and said “nah, I just let ‘em drool.” They began walking towards his car and stood there for a couple of seconds. “Thanks for the food. I’ll check ya around”, she said about to walk away but Erik pulled her back gently to him. “So, you ain’t gonna give me ya number”, he asked and she shook her head. He pressed his tongue against his cheek shaking his head and she smiled. “But I’ll take yours.” She pulled out her phone, unlocked it and handed it to him so he can put his number in. She looked down at the number and texted it with a car emoji. She shook his hand slowly and said “good night, Killmonger.” “Good night, Roxxx.” She saluted him and went to her car getting in and he followed; he realized something as she pulled away and followed behind. Both stopped side by side at a red light and he hollered “you never told me ya name.” She smiled, looked over and said “my name is Roxanne.” The both smirked at one another as she drove off heading home, leaving him with nothing but hope to see her again.

*𝕋𝔸𝔾𝔾𝔼𝔻 𝕃𝕆𝕍𝔼𝕊*

@muse-of-mbaku @im5ftbutmythroat66 @chaneajoyyy @melanin-samii @theunsweetenedtruth @doux-ciel @unicornluvin8765 @vikkidc @wakandantings @thadelightfulone @mzamethystp @simbiann @tropicalsun10 @babydoll756​ @notoriouslynay @vminax @quinsly @pinkdemolition @quietstorm-73​ @chaoticcashfancroissant @bugngiz​ @chocolatedippedinhoney​ @yafavcocoa @lostgalaxies​ @mbakuwife @youreadthatright​ @babygotl01292003 @acceptyourselfloveyourself @madamslayyy​ @yoyolovesbucky​ @theogbadbitch @wakanda-inspired @bitchacho25 @toniilaney @wakandascrystal​ @girlsneedlovingfanfics @raysunshine78​ @melodyofmbaku @hearteyes-for-killmonger @silenceisplatinum @thickemadame​ @shookmcgookqueen​ @heykillmongerluhme​ @fonville-designs @cutewylie @allhailqueennel @10bsatatime @nickidub718 @lildashofmelanin @allhailqueennel @amirra88 @hakunalive4eva @thickemadame​ @ghostfacekill-monger @cherrystainedlipsbaby

[fightevilandthengetblownup]

FIC:  In This Town...

---

“Party City Red Hood, huh?” Jo quipped with a grin, reacting out and tapping the front of the red bike helmet the other hunter was wearing. “Or, I’ll pay that it’s a step up from that.”

There was a chuckle from somewhere behind the full helmet before he reached up and pulled it off, exposing a black domino mask across his eyes. “You’re one to talk. What are you supposed to be - Sandra Dee?” Dean’s lips quirked up into a smirk as he ran an eye over her for a moment before grinning roguishly. “Surprised you’re not running about being Batgirl.”

The blonde smiled in return, doing a little twist and bob that swung her circle skirt and petticoats about herself, before sticking out her tongue. “Sorry Deano, wasn’t lookin’ to run about in spandex tonight. I’ve gotta be able to move after all-”

“You can in that wide a skirt?” “It helps push customers out of the way at least.” “That seems true enough.”

“Speakin’ of - two beers and some fries for you and Sammy?” Jo asked cheerfully as she spotted the taller man moving to claim one of the booth seats near the doorway to the upstairs. “Tell him I’m sorry we don’t have any salads on the menu these days.”

“Oh no, you have to be the one to break that to him.” Dean smirked in response, fumbling around before throwing a few twenties on the bar top. “Guessing that’ll-”

Jo turned about back to him as she poured two beers for the both and placed them down beside the money before raising a brow. “Yeah, I’ll start a tab for you boys, but you know-”

“Nuh uh, Jo,” The surprise of hearing the other brother’s voice managed to startle both hero and bartender as Sam popped up beside his brother. His usually freed hair was tucked down under the deer stalker on his head, and he seemed to have appeared out of the crowd with the same sense of theatric timing and clairvoyance as his chosen costume would as well - though without the jacket that was thrown over the table saving it for them, it was hard for most to work out he was the famed detective instead of simply a hipster for that year. “I know we’re family, but this is still a business. And business?”

“Is business.” Dean finished in unison with his brother, jostling the other’s shoulder for a second as they both stared down the blonde’s chagrined expression until she finally reached a hand out to take the notes. “That’a girl! Start us up a tab, would you?”

“Sure thin’. I’ll swing round with those fries, and maybe I can ask Grey to bring  something healthier from home if you guys need.” “Don’t worry about it, Jo. It’s Halloween - time for candy and alcohol.” “Surprised to hear that from you, Sam!”

The taller of the brother’s shrugged a shoulder before delivering a foppish grin back. “Hey, it’s better than some of the Halloweens we’ve had. I figure I deserve a treat.”

“Right on.” Jo giggled back, smiling and giving a short wave as they turned towards their table before slipping the notes into the cash register beside the other barmaid with a grin and a quick debrief on the brothers’ tab before turning to more customers.

---

“Well, well, well, I’d say look what the cat dragged in - but I had nothing to do with it.” The sultry tone did wonders for the joke as the two girls slid into the free edges of the booth.

The Winchesters had been there for the last half an hour, going through a few plates of fries, exchanging a few pleasantries with Harry when he’d come rushing down from upstairs to help behind the bar as the dock crowd slowly gave way to the assorted collection of dressed up college students. The influx seemingly marking the change of clientele that made the space more and more friendly to the sisters’ arrival.

“Say what now?” Dean asked with a grin as he lifted his arm naturally to rest across the back of the booth seat, though he was glad he’d left his helmet beside himself. It gave enough space that he didn’t feel too cramped by the new arrivals. Running an eye over the skin tight black dress, that appeared to him to be more sheer-than-not fabric and left a lot of skin and the lace bodice underneath visible above the skirts ruffles, he couldn’t quite work out what she was supposed to be. He let out a laugh as he caught the shadow’s eye, raising a brow. “What are you supposed to be anyway? Didn’t know Victoria’s Secret Model was a costume option or I’d have cracked out the panties.”

Shada let out her own laugh before pointing a purple manicured finger towards the two little eats attached to the top of her head. “I’m a cat. Dah.”

“I’m pretty sure the joke is that you’re supposed to be a mouse.” Sam quipped from his side of the table, a warm smile directed across at the other for a moment. “I mean, you were going for a Mean Girls reference weren’t you?”

“A what now?” “It’s... It’s a movie. Ask Jo sometime.”

“You and your chick flicks.” Dean laughed, turning to rib as his brother. “Surprised you picked Sherlock when you had so many other options to choose, Fabio.”

Before Sam could respond, the blonde beside him chirped up with a confused look upon her face. “What’s a... Fabio?”

The taller hunter let out a bit of a laugh, and slid the fries plate a little closer to the younger girl as he caught her eye dipping down to look at them curiously, before replying. “Dean here’s just mad he doesn’t have the flowing locks or the six pack to be him. He’s basically the poster art on any romance novel from the eighties.”

“Oh! Like the novels big sister reads?” “Yes, just like those, Ombre.” “Ah, tre bien! You do have the hair for that!”

Shada let out a laugh as the younger shadow had been chewing on a fry before exclaiming happily at working out the reference. It was bemusing to watch the enraptured way her little sister reached out a hand to tug on the loose locks popping out under the ear flaps of the hunter’s hat and the confused and them equally amused look that crossed the man’s face at the innocent gesture.

“Who are you both supposed to be then?” She asked conversationally as she turned to run a disproportionately assessing eye over each hunter. “I am unfamiliar with both your choices.”

Sam smiled back as he picked up a fry, chewing quickly before replying quietly. “I’m being Sherlock Holmes. And please don’t tell me if you don’t know who that is. Your brother already pranked me with that-”

“Oh that sounds just like him.” The brunette shadow laughed, shaking her head quickly when she noticed her sister’s mouth open to voice her confusion. “He’s being a fictional detective, Ombre. A very famous one.” As the other snapped her mouth shut before picking up another fry decisively instead, she figured she’d have to talk to her brother about what other tricks and taunts he’d played on the hunters and to leave some for her. Quirking a curious brow at the man beside her, Shada waved her hand for him to answer her instead.

“Red Hood, at your service.” Dean said with a smile, dropping his hand to pick the helmet off the seat between them for a moment before resettling it. At her blank look the cocky smile drooped slightly and he coughed uncertainly. “He, uh... It’s a comic character. Batman series? Jason Todd? He was a Robin?” At the continued blank look, Dean finally gave a shake of his head and ran a hand through his hair mussing it before smirking widely. “Well, I guess we’ll just have to educate you sometime.”

“Perhaps you will.” Shada didn’t stop the flirtatious tone as she batted her eyes enough to turn the hunter a bright pink before laughing as the dark haired barmaid came hurrying over with a new plate of fries as well as what looked like two fruity drinks. “Um-”

“Jo sent these over, says Grey’s running late. Harry said something about stopping by when it calms down.” The barmaid spoke rapidly, the words a rapid fire as she seemed to be glancing about the space rather than making direct contact. As she turned back from looking towards the bar to look at the motley crew accumulated in the booth, there was a second before a wide, friendly smile grew across her face. “Oh hey! Nice Alice costume! I was thinking of that but Ha- I wanted to go for something a little more musical-theatre that Classic Lit. Okay, sorry, give us a shout if you need anything else!”

As quickly as Sophie had appeared, decked out with bright green skin all over as she had been and the comfortable black dress, she disappeared away again - only noticable by the black witches hat weaving between the crowds of drunken patrons.

“Oh, she liked my costume. She’s so nice!” Ombre’s smile was wider than it had been since she had met up with Shada to get ready, all bright white teeth and crinkled eyes, as she looked about the booth. “I like her!”

“Sophie’s lovely.” Sam replied with an amused smile before nodding his head. “And she’s right, that’s a lovely Alice In Wonderland, Ombre. It’s very accurate too.”

“Merci beaucoup, I adore Alice! I love my socks so much.” “Socks?” “The little frills! Along with all the à fanfreluches - frilly - skirts.” “Ah, I see. Well, it’s a very pretty costume.”

“Merci, merci, merci!” The blonde’s grin was so wide and bright it was almost blinding before she clapped her hands happily.

The group lapsed into a moments quiet as each either had some of their drinks or ate a few of the french fries or onion rings that had just been delivered to the table before the conversation turned towards other things as usual - games, or their mutual friends, or Dean’s attempts to explain just who the Red Hood was as the black cat would look more and more confused hiding her smiles.

---

“Yoo-hoo! Guess who made it to the East- wait...” There was a pause as the red haired woman did a spin as she bounded towards the bar. “ Jo - this isn’t on the East coast is it. What is this area even called?”

“We’re in the Midwest, Charlie.” “Uh uh uh - tonight I only answer to my witch name-” “Oh! You’re dressed as Willow!” “Of course. What did you think I was?”

“Some 90′s grunge femme lesbian?” Jo grinned as she ran an eye over the extremely dated clothes the other was wearing, with her bright yellow bucket hat, oversized jean overalls and the colorful yet somehow dull rainbow sweater underneath. “So, I guess, accurate costume.”

“Har har, very funny.” Charlie jibed back with an eye roll, drumming the black painted nails on the bar top. “Who are you supposed to be? Scarlet Witch has red hair, though I suppose it’s sorta blonde in that latest trailer. And her dress is red.”

“Ugh, no and don’t get me started on corporate America, not tonight when I have to keep the masses libationed up.” “Very true, though at least you seem more comfortable than Hermione over there.”

Jo and Charlie both turned to look to see where Sophie was struggling to do the most comfortable bend and pour technique on the bar taps from her height while also not have her Elphaba hat fall off. There was a split second before the black hat went tumbling to the floor and the barmaid had to pick between grabbing it before it’d get beer soaking into it or sticky patches from the floor or drop the patrons glass. The glass won out, and it was another few seconds before the witch got her hat back - now with a few extra dark patches that would likely pick up any dust or crumbs that comes in its path.

“Pity.” Charlie said with a sigh as she turned back to the blonde. “Where’s the rest-”

“Over in the back corner, I’ll take you - gotta drop off another round of drinks anyways.” The bar owner smiled as she raised a brow. “Tequila sunrise, right?”

There was a beat before the redhead found herself fluttering her lashes with a grin. “Oh, Jo, you know the way straight to a woman’s heart don’t you. Such a pity you’ve got such a pretty boyfriend already.”

“Sorry, Charlie, been there, done that, not signin’ up for the newsletter. Gimme a second, will ya?” “Sure thing!”

As soon as the cocktail was ready, Jo plated up the round of drinks for the small hodge-podge group of hunters, shadows and hunter-adjacent arrivals in the back corner, and ducked out from the end of the bar, bringing the researcher over with her.

“Squish up you lot - the party just arrived!” Charlie exclaimed happily as she bounced down into the seat beside the blonde shadowgirl who was gesticulating wildly about some story or other. “What’re we all talking about? When are the rest of the boys due?”

“Ed texted Harry about thirty minutes ago to say Spruce lost one of his bolts, so they’re going to be about ten more.” Sam replied with a grin, somehow shimmying his frame further down the bench and around to make more room for the newest arrival. “And what’s taking Grey so long, Jo?”

As Jo slowly set down her tray and started handing out the array of drinks, her brows creased into a tiny frown and everyone bit back a laugh at the borderline pout on her lips. “All the trick or treatin’ kids in the neighborhood are freakin’ Nana out. So Grey’s stayin’ put for another hour until it dies down and she calms down.”

“That’s a shame,” Dean remarked, though the flash of a grin on his face didn’t match at all to the words before he shrugged and added more genuinely with a serious look. “No, actually, that’s a bummer. It’ll be... nice to catch up more.” There was a pause as he drank a sip of his beer before he finished quietly. “Truly. Hope he gets here soon.”

“Thanks. Okay, you guys are set, I’ll be back ‘round with another lot soon.” The blonde gave a bounce which flounced the skirts of her outfit a little before she span on her heel and clicked away in the pink heels to deal with the still onslaughting group of customers.

“Really Dean?” “What Sammy?” “Don’t be a dick.”

“Yeah, that’s not cool, Deano.” Charlie remarked with a smirk as she took a sip of her drink - the tequila and orange juice one of her favorites - raising a brow back at him. “Besides, it’s much more fun annoying Jo when she’s in a good mood than bad. So wait until Grey shows up and then we can tease the both of them.”

That got a round of laughs from the table as a whole, and the redhead felt a surge of pride noticing the way Dean turned to genuinely apologise to the scowling dark haired woman before asking Ombre to start her story again from the beginning.

---

“Who ya gonna call?!” “Ghostbusters!” “Fuck yeah!”

The shouts coming from the trio as they emerged from the stairway brought about a round of laughs from the group as all three men moved towards the group.

“Well, better than calling on the last group - what’d you used to call yourselves?” Sam asked jovially as he shifted another time and held a hand out to shake each of the three men’s hands as they sat down, before resting it over the top of the bench seating spanning behind both blonde and redhead.

“Facers, Losechester, the Ghostfacers. You know that.” Ed snapped back with a smirk as he slid into the space beside the dark haired woman at the table and ran a quick eye over her before grinning wider. “Hey, surprised you’re not dressed up in a bright purple Sombra this evening, Shada.”

“Well, I do enjoy simplicity.” Shada replied with a smirk of her own, picking up her drink and shuffling a little further down the bench as Spruce tried to fit in. Glancing at the small sliver of space left, she turned back towards the hunter that had yet to have to bunch down. Batting her lashes and tapping a manicured finger against the top of his red helmet between them, the girl’s lips twitched into a knowing smirk. “Oh, Dean, you’ll have to make some more room. Or else I might just think you’re scared of little old me.”

“Don’t worry Shada, if he won’t move you can always use my lap instead.” Ed’s quip was met with an immediate scurrying from the hunter to shove the red motorcycle off the bench seat and between his feet with a slightly unfocused scowl towards him. “Oh too bad.”

“Awww, sorry Ed, looks like I’ve got some more room.”

“Can you three stop flirting and move the fuck over so I can sit down?” The last of the Ghostbusting trio growled out as he raised an eyebrow at all three and got laughed at by Harry, Charlie, Sam and Ombre on the other side of the booth. It took a moment for Shada and Ed to shuffle enough, packed like sardines and the brunette girl sitting almost partway into the hunter’s lap at the other end before there was enough room for Spruce to slip in. “Oh thank god, the sweaty drunks were getting boring.”

“Hey guys, another round?” Sophie’s voice suddenly appeared, and the green girl was smiling brightly at all of them as she set down her tray and started handing out drinks. Though there was a second as Harry reached for one of the glasses at the same time that their fingers caught, and if she hadn’t been covered in green paint everyone at the table was sure that she’d have turned bright red. “No, no, Harry, you’re off for the night! Please, let me.”

“Oh come on. You’re being run off your feet-” “Yeah, but I’m being paid-” “-And you don’t need to dote so much-” “Of course I do!”

“Oh my god, you two are such doux amours!” Ombre’s voice finally cut through the bickering pair, catching Harry and Sophie’s attention to confused looks. There was a second before the blonde waved her hand happily across Charlie towards them. “Harry, Harry, don’t forget to kiss your girlfriend goodbye if she is having to work!”

The round of laughter that followed that statement in the face of the bright red that colored the researcher’s face and the stammering from the green-faced barmaid. There was another round of laughter when Sophie actually dropped the glass in question, and Harry floundered quickly with napkins to try to clean up the spilled drink.

“What’d I say?” Ombre asked quietly, her eyes darting about the laughing group and blushing herself until Spruce lent across to give her hand a pat. “What did I-”

“It’s fine, Ombre.” Spruce grinned wickedly back as he plucked his own beer from the tray while Harry and Sophie were awkwardly attempting to mop up the drink but not touch one another. “Harry’s not gotten around to asking Soph yet. You’re just a little early.”

“Oh. Okay!”

“Dude!” Harry hissed the words out across the table, glaring at the taller man before blushing under scrutiny further. “Don’t-”

“It’s okay, Spangler. You’ll get there eventually.” “Dude, not the point.”

“I... I’ve got to get back to help Jo.” Sophie stammered for a moment, glancing around at the group as she pressed the tray up against her chest and rushed away while Harry thunked his head onto the table top.

There was a pause before a hand fell on his shoulder, Sam leaning past the two girls between the both of them, to pat his shoulder a few times. “That’s rough, buddy.” The words sounded genuine, but the laughter that started up at the table from Harry’s groan and the wicked grin on the hunter’s face as everyone turned into ribbing the researcher about his unfulfilled crush.

---

The crowd in the bar was winding down - the cheap drinks advertisement Jo, Sophie and Harry had devised doing exactly what they had planned in encouraging an influx crowd of youngsters earlier in the evening that would chase out the dock crews and hunters for the evening, and then as the hour got nearer to midnight the crowds would slowly filter out to the hipper, more aesthetic or club-like spaces around town as the three hours of cheap base spirits faded off. It was strategic - not only to make sure the bar would be shadow-friendly for most of the evening, but also to capitalize on a large influx and then giving both Harry and Jo the opportunity to enjoy the later hour with friends.

It took until almost 11 for the door to finally open and the last of the remaining large group of friends to arrive.

“I hate this holiday.” Grey seethed harshly as he made his way towards the booth and looked around in surprise at how squished and yet uncaring the group was. “Hey, what’d I miss?”

“Grey!” “Brother, finally!” “Hey man, how’d it go with the dog?” “Did you bring the puppy, brother?”

“No, I didn’t. Bloody Trick or Treaters kept freaking Nana out with the screaming and laughing.” He sighed quietly as he glanced to the side and pulled a seat over towards the end of the table, tugging with a sigh on his tie. “They all finished about two hours ago but she was so worked up I couldn’t leave.”

“Did you have many people stop?” Charlie asked, raising a brow at him. “I put up a big sign back at home that I only believe in giving out edibles so I suspect a lot of angry stoners that I wasn’t home.”

The shadow gave the other a disbelieving look for a moment before raising an eyebrow right back at her. “There’s a lot of children along the road, and being near the school means a lot of visitors. Went through about fifteen bags of candy before I decided enough was enough.”

“That’s far too much sugar to be giving out, brother.” “Oh really?” “Yes, really.”

“Well, I suspect Jo will be sad there isn’t any leftovers when we get home.” Grey smiled gently across at his sister, not even blinking at her choice of costume or lack there of, before doing a double take at noticing her sitting almost fully in the hunter’s lap and the way Dean was simply talking across her back towards his brother and the blonde shadow. “I see I missed more than a little trick or treating here too.”

“So many treats, you know.” Shada rebutted with a loud laugh. “I’m just embracing my choice of costume.”

“Oh?” “Cats must sit on laps, right?” “Ah.”

“Don’t worry man,” Ed spoke up then, giving a huffed laugh. “Dean lost a bet an hour back, he’s only got another five minutes before she’s got to get off.”

“Only if he remembers to ask though, or wants me to.” “Oh I’ll want you to, you foxy minx. You keep stealing my drinks before they get to me.” “Shush, Dean, chairs can’t talk.”

Blinking a few times at the array of banter, Grey simply shook his head before pushing back to his feet. “I’m going to go get a dri-”

“Doctor!” The squeal came high and clear over the subdued murmur of voices and lowered but atmospheric volume of the jukebox in the corner, and Grey found himself letting out a laugh as he turned to see a flurry of baby pink skirts and blonde hair spinning about behind the bar before scurrying from around the end of the bar itself. “Oh about bloody time!”

“Sorry, time got a little away from me.” Grey chuckled as he replied, pushing his chair a little back as Jo finally came bounding up to his side and threw an arm around his waist with that dazzling smile he loved so much. “You know how it is-”

“Oh of course, the man with all the time in the universe can’t keep a single track of it.” “That’s exactly how it is.” “Very wibbly-”

“-Wobbly.” He finished with an equally wide smile, tucking a strand of hair back behind Jo’s ear before leaning in to press his lips to hers in a click of teeth at just how wide their smiles were before they were kissing properly for the barest moment and he pulled back. “Sorry it took so long though, pretty one.” Grey said quieter, leaning down to whisper against Jo’s ear. “Nana was scared on a scarey night and wanted her mommy.”

“No problem, hunny, we’ll be home sometime tonight and I’m sure she’ll be okay until then.” Jo replied sweetly, pecking his lips a last time before turning towards the table as a whole. Her whole face shifted from the wide grin into a sneer. “Well now, can you guys tell who I am yet?”

There was a moment before Harry and Spruce had looks change from confusion at Jo’s dragging the table out of their conversations before they started smiling and nodded, with awkward laughter between them. It took another moment before Ed and Sam followed suit, with Ed crying out sharply “Oh! That makes so much more sense than Betty Draper!”

“That guess was so fuckin’ bullshit, Ed.” “Well it’s not our fault your couples-stume only makes sense together!” “It’s not my fault you clearly aren’t a fan enough to recognise this on sight.”

“Jo, stop being mad,” Harry shook his head smiling up towards the couple and playing mediator like he had been all night between Jo and others when the question on who or what exactly she was dressed as had come up. “Besides, it’s cute that it needs Grey here to make it work for both of you.”

Grey raised an eyebrow in confusion and looked down at his gym shoes and then further up towards his brown, pinstriped suit and the skinny tie in confusion that it might not be clear who he was, but then he felt the same looking at Jo in her quasi-beehive hairstyle and the flouncy baby pink dress and blue jacket that pulled her waist into a tiny point before the poofy nature of her skirts. He thought it was obvious who they both were, and that the blue tipped screwdriver poking out of his jacket pocket was really unnecessary for anyone to know the star-crossed lovers they were dressed as that night.

“Anyway, I’m off duty for the night now - but if Sophie needs a hand you and I might need to pitch in, Harry.” “And with closing down once us lot are done and she’s gone home for the night, I know.” “Oh actually, I had mentioned once we call last drinks to the rest of the kiddies here at one that Soph’s welcome to stay and hang out a little while. You don’t got a problem with that do you Harry?”

If Jo’s question sounded been innocent, the wicked twitch of her lips gave away any chance of innocence and any thought there wasn’t any intent behind it, which got a large laugh from Spruce and Charlie at Harry’s spluttering before Grey found himself getting pulled into the good natured teasing.

---

The night was a bit of a blur but in the way in which a night of good conversation, good companionship and good feelings was lost.

Shada eventually returned to sitting on the bench but a lot later than she was expected to, and at one point had her cat ears joined by the black domino mask that covered her smokey eyes but made her smiles seem a little more wicked and flirtatious as she batted her eyes out of the darkness.

Sam and Spruce found themselves eventually sitting beside one another and discussing in depth the problems with higher educations toll upon students and the pressures of achieving grades. They were both surprised to learn that’d both been pre-law, and that neither had felt the push to continue through the loss of either girlfriend in Sam’s case or friend in Spruce’s. And then that they both found bananas disgusting.

Charlie and Ombre spent an inordinate time standing up after it was found out that the tall blonde knew nothing of dancing - and the string of dance favorites that were set up on the jukebox for the two, and then three when Sophie had scared the last of the customers out of the bar and joined them both, made for an amusing range of background music.

Dean slowly got drunk on his beers but kept to himself for the most part, simply content after a while to rub at the small of the back of the girl on his lap with a thumb and listen to her and Jo’s talk about some shopping spree or birthday or something coming up. And once he was a free man again, turned his attention back towards his beer and the odd conversation he was pulled into.

Grey was pleased to find himself moved onto the booth seating after a bit beside Jo, hands held together in her lap or an arm around her waist, as he spent until the wee hours talking with Ed and Harry or even Dean about anything and everything so long as he had the warm presence of his sunshine pressed up against his side.

Nothing could go wrong so long as he could just look out the corner of his eye and see that smile in an instant. And when they got home, he was sure they’d have their fluffy baby curled up on the end of the bed to make that feel just as warm as sitting in the warm atmosphere of friendship there.

---

[itsmarianstories]

✨🔍Focus🔎✨

Boxer Jungkook, Dancer Jimin

2. Part: Jimin visits Jungkooks fight for the first time

A/N: I’m so done right now... I had this all already edited and this whole post finished when my laptop collapes and now I have to do everything again. I’m not gonna edit this chapter a second time sorry, now you gotta keep up with my mistakes :’) Also this can probably be read seperately? I think? Though it would make more sense to read the first part first. Anyways it’s not as long as the first part but therefore there will be a third part ;)

Word count: 4.594

Focus.

Un, deux, trois, quatre

Glissade, assemble, sous-sus, pirouette

His body drumming in tension, all muscles working and keeping his every move under total control. No finger is moving in a way it's not supposed to.

He is drilled to perfection, by his mother, his teacher and himself. It's what he did for all his life. Flying through the air, looking almost weightless and light, although his feet hurt, his legs burn and his lungs beg for air. A smile is plastered on his lips, keeping up the mask. Like a statue, strong, perfect, cold.

His eyes are fixed in the huge mirrors that cover the three walls in this studio, watching his own moves like a hawk. Everyone else, including his teacher has already left but he prefers it like that. The hours where he has the studio completely for himself are the best, he can completely focus on himself, he has all the space he wants and he can dance the way he wants.

He loves ballet, it's his passion, what keeps him going on some tough days but sometimes it's also what pushes him down. When he can't get a certain move right, or when his emotions are too overwhelming to push them down behind that mask of perfection. On those days he likes to blast his favourite songs and just let lose, close his eyes and move to the beat.

However, not today. In two weeks they have their showcase and Jimin performs in four pieces. Two group performances, one duet and one solo. They are already practicing for this showcase for almost a year now and although Jimin knows the sequences by heart now, there are still parts which are not perfect yet.

There will be critics at the show and if Jimin is good enough he might be allowed to choreograph his own pieces, get his own group and teach a class. Actually he doesn't really want to teach a class, he knows no one would want to train under him. Jimin is a perfectionist and he would drill his students to the absolute highest level, even he himself can't meet his standards so how could others?

The music stops and Jimins body stills. Well, more or less. His chest his heaving with heavy breaths and his legs tremble slightly. Sweat his running down his skin, literally everywhere, his arms, legs, neck, spine, forehead.

Jimin stared at himself in the mirror for a few seconds before he went to the corner where he left his stuff. He grabbed a towel and wiped the sweat from his face and neck. Deciding that it was enough he grabbed his things and quickly went to the shower. After cleaning his body he threw a quick glance at the time.

Jungkooks fight is in two hours, it will take Jimin probably about 40 minutes to get to the address so he should get home soon to get ready.

He isn't really sure what that is, this evening. Like, is it a date? A meeting between friends? Just a dude watching another dude fight?

Nonono, Jimin get a hold of yourself. The way Jungkook pressed you against your own wall in your own entryway definitely wasn't a moment between 'dudes'. This has to mean something, right? Right?!

The dancer sighed while pulling the hood of his sweater over his head. After that incident a few days ago he stopped taking the shortcut to his apartment which means his way home will take almost 20 minutes instead of 10. It's annoying but Jimin never wants to experience something like that ever again. He can't imagine what would have happened if Jungkook hadn't passed by coincidentally. Or if he hadn't been nice enough to actually stop and bother beating those guys up for him.

He is pretty sure Jungkook expected a girl, considering his reaction when he saw Jimins face. Who can blame him, it's not a situation that many young men find themselves in.

A few days ago he had read a story about corrective rape but couldn't imagine it really being a thing. Like why would you want to fuck someone you are disgusted by? It doesn't make sense but he figured that most horrible things don't make sense.

Thinking about that while walking home alone isn't really helping so he falls into a slow run, trying to get home as quickly as possible.

Once home Jimin quickly changes, does his hair and may or may not apply a hint of make-up, just on his eyes and lips.

He quickly texted Tae to let him know he was ready and waited for the knock on his door. Slipping on his sneakers, checking his phone, key and wallet he opened the door.

“Hey loverboy, ready?” Tae grinned at him and Jimin smacked his shoulder.

“Shut up!” He mumbled, feeling the blush creep onto his cheeks. They left the building together and called for a cab. Jimin fiddled with the hem of his oversized jacket. He didn't like to admit that he was nervous. Obviously because of the fight. He had no idea what to expect and the way Jungkook sounded while texting he was a bit worried about Jimin being there. That's why Tae is here after all.

“I can't believe you made me do this!” His best friend said.

“Not only are you dragging me to a box fight, though you know fairly well how much I dislike violence! You also make me third wheel at your date!”

“It's not a date.” Jimin contradicted.

“Shut up it is a date. You may deny it and that Jungkook guy may be too dense to realize it, but I know.” Jimin rolled his eyes.

“Right. I forgot you are the human version of Cupid.” Tae winked at him and Jimin shrugged him off.

They arrived at the location soon later and Jimin gulped when he saw the big old brick building. People where lingering around on the street, holding plastic cups with beer, smoking cigarettes (or smth like that? He wasnt so sure) and talking casually. Most of them men, men who resembled thos guys who attacked him a few days ago in a frightening way. Suddenly he regretted putting on make up and wearing a jacket without hood to hide his pink hair. Might as well write “gay and proud" on his forehead.

Tae was right next to him and although he didn't like violence at all he looked more intimidating, being tall and build with a red bandana in his hair.

Jimin is really questioning his sanity right now. What made him think wearing a pink bomber jacket with transparent stripes on the arms was a good idea?

They passed a few groups on their way inside and so far no one really paid them any mind but as soon as they entered the hall heads started to turn in their (his) direction. Jimin wondered whether he should text Jungkook that he was there now but he didn't want to distract or bother him before his fight so he decided against it.

He overheard a few people talk when they passed them by.

“Do you think he will win again?”

“Nah he is too young. The other one has way more experience.”

“I don't know man he is a pretty good fighter. He won almost every fight until now.”

“He is trained by Agust D right?”

“Yeah, he's his best student.”

Jimin didn't exactly know why, but the things those guys said made him feel proud. Hm, weird.

The inside of the building kinda resembled a really small theatre. The ring was in the middle like a stage and chairs were circling it in long rows, only interrupted by a few aisles.

“Do you want to drink something?” Tae asked but Jimin shook his head.

“I'm good. I'll go get us seats.” He said. Tae nodded and left to the bar, leaving Jimin alone in the mass. The dancer turned and searched for two free seats, preferably somewhere in the front. He is small and he wants to see after all. People gave him looks when he passes them and he saw at least two or three who looked disgusted. It made Jimin shrink in himself, trying to disappear in his jacket. He lowered his eyes, not looking anyone in the eye and possibly offend them.

He found two seats in the second row and quickly made his way over there. He took his phone out in case Tae texts him about the seats when he noticed someone sitting down next to him, on the seat that was for Tae.

Jimin looked up and saw a man, bald with a white beard covering his double chin. He looked (and smelled) sweaty, wearing a black ACDC shirt and a cold chain around his neck. He looked like he jumped right out of a movie as cliché as it was. The man stared at him and Jimin gulped. This can't mean anything positive.

“U-Uhm...” He started, wanting to tell the man that the seat was taken but he was cut off.

“You know princess, this is not a cosmetic studio.” He snarled, his breath reeking of beer and cigarettes. Jimin wanted to snap back, put him in his place, telling him to fuck off and that 'no shit Sherlock, actually I expected someone to come and give me a manicure' But since the incident in that alley and being the small boy that he is, it would be so easy for the other to manhandle him.

Jimin didn't know why but Jungkook popped up in his mind and somehow it gave Jimin a hint of braveness. He didn't want to be the clichéd small baby boy who can't do anything for himself, who clings onto his sugar daddy, pouts his plumb lips and cries when he doesn't get what he wants. He is strong and independent and he can take care of himself for fucks sake. (It may also help a little that there are so many people around, this dude will probably not do anything in front of so many will he?)

Jimin didn't want to provoke him unnecessarily so he simply stated that “Sorry, this seat is taken.” And he was proud when his voice didn't shake.

“What are you doing here, huh? Do you even know what this here is?” Jimin sighed internally and rolled his eyes.

“A drama staging?” It slip out too quickly for Jimin to hold back and he saw the nostrils of the man flare and how his lips were pressed in a thin line. Oh this is not good.

“Go home princess. Play with your dolls and let the real men do their things.” He growled and Jimin wanted to tell him that the dick between his legs showed that he was indeed a 'real' man but he figured that would cross a boarder he didn't want to see the other side off.

“Why is it bothering you if I just quietly sit here and watch the fight? I'm not contagious you know.” Jimin said, trying to keep all the anger and annoyance out of his voice. The man didn't know what to answer to that, his mouth opened and closed again like a fish on the dry.

Tae chose to come back in that very moment, standing tall over the man and radiating a dangerous atmosphere, which is funny if you know what a clingy teddy bear Tae usually is. But now he was obviously pissed and it probably helped that his voice is naturally deep and rich for it made it sound more intimidating when he said

“I think you are sitting on my seat.” The man looked up at him, then at Jimin and back up at Tae until he grumbled something in his beard, took a sip from his beer and finally left.

“Are you okay?” Tae asked when he took the seat the man left just now. Jimin nodded with a smile.

“Yeah, I guess it's my own fault for, you know, dressing like this.” He said with a smile.

“What are you talking about? You have every right to dress in whatever way you please. Their stinky asses are just jealous of your confidence.”

“Pfft, what confidence?” Jimin scoffed. Tae wrapped and arm around his shoulders but didn't say anything because he knew that way Jimin would think about it way more. And before they could talk about it any further spotlight switched on and drowned the ring in yellow. A small man appeared with a microphone in hand. He greeted everyone and asked them to go to their seats. It became quiet real quick and the man in the ring started to announce the fighters, talking about their weight and previous fights and he was basically screaming everything. Probably to hype up the crowed but Jimin thought it was a rather primitive way to do. Yet, it seemed to work and Jimin couldn't say he was surprised.

After a few minutes the first fighter entered the ring. The crowed cheered and whistled and the man raised his fists as if he was bathing in the praise. The fighter was probably about 180 cm tall and build, wearing nothing but the lose shorts and gloves on his hands. He was laughing confidently and Jimin hoped that Jungkook would wash the dirty smug of his face. Something about the attitude and the atmosphere of this guy made Jimin uncomfortable. There was another man walking behind him, carrying a towel and a bottle of water, probably something like his assistant? Jimin had no idea.

The man with the microphone started talking again, now about Jungkook and Jimin couldn't help but pay a little more attention. He hyped him up just as much, talking about how great he his for his young age and how many fights he has already won. Jimin was nervous.

And then Jungkook entered. Instead of enjoying the crowds cheers he simply walked towards the ring, his body hidden by a black silk robe and his face covered by a hood. Jungkook had someone carrying a towel and bottle as well, a small rather slim man with silvery hair. Other than the first boxer, however, Jungkooks assistant(?) Was walking beside him, an arm behind his back a bit like a bodyguard and he was whispering things to Jungkook. Jimin wondered what it might be but it was way too loud and he was too far away to eavesdrop.

Jungkook entered the ring as well and finally got rid of the robe, handing it to the man with silver hair. Jimins mouth fell open. Sure he knew Jungkook had a nice body from when they slept on the same bed or their little “moment" in his entryway but seeing it like this in its full glory was... different.

His muscled were toned, obvious poking out under his tanned skin. The light of the spotlights made him glow and Jimin honestly just wanted to lick his abs Jesus Christ.

Jimin noticed how Jungkooks eyes started to wander over the auditorium, searching for something. Or rather someone. His heartedbeat picked up and suddenly his palms became strangely sweaty. Jimin gulped and took a shaky breath. Damn shit why was he so nervous all of a sudden?

He watched as Jungkooks eyes scanned the crowed and came nearer and nearer towards him and then his eyes landed on him and their gazes locked and Jimin could swear that for a few heartbeats long the whole room was empty except for them both and it was deafeningly silent. Jimin held his breath when a small smile spread on Jungkooks lips. He could hear his own heart beat loudly in his hears and he lifted his hand for a small subtle wave which caused Jungkooks smile to become bigger. Jimin smiled back and then the silvery haired man petted Jungkooks back, asking for his attention. The boxer ripped his eyes away and turned to his assistant who continued to tell him whatever.

Jimin finally released the breath he was holding and noticed that Tae was staring at him.

“I feel dirty.” His best friend said.

“Huh?”

“It was like watching a live porno. Seriously you still have drool on your chin.” Tae teased, acting as if he was wiping it away with his sleeve. “Disgusting.” He muttered and Jimin pushed him away, smacking his hand from his face.

“Shut up!” He snapped, face burning.

Moments later the fight began and Jimin could see an immediate switch in Jungkooks attitude. He was concentrated, focused on nothing but his opponent. He observed the others movements, studying him and waiting for him to make the first move.

Jimin had no idea about boxing but even he could see the difference between those two fighters. Jungkooks opponent still looked rather cocky, grinning and looking at Jungkook like he was a small boy. However, that grin faltered after Jungkook dodged the first hit.

As a dancer Jimin knows what a focused body looks like, he can see the tension, the control over every muscle. It’s a bit as if Jungkook would dance, dance around his opponent, provoking him and irritating him. And it's working. The other fighter became more and more reckless with how much angrier he became. It was somehow funny to watch.

After a few minutes Jungkook finally started to hit back. His movements were so quick and smooth, it reminded Jimin so much of ballet it was fascinating. He never really associated with this sport before getting to know Jungkook so he had no idea what to expect. He always thought boxing are just to men beating each other down but what Jungkook was doing in that ring right now was a profession. Jimin could see the training, the sweat and ache he invested to get this kind of control. It made Jimin feel so much closer to Jungkook because he basically felt the passion Jungkook had towards his sport. It’s the same passion he has for his own and ain’t gonna lie, that’s a huge turn on.

The fight continued with both fighters landing a few good hits and every time Jungkooks face or stomach connected with the opponents glove, Jimin jumped slightly and clenched his hand harder around the armrest of his chair. Yes, he was in awe over Jungkooks fighting, but that doesn't mean he didn't worry about him.

Jimin couldn't say how long the fight actually lasted, for him the time flew and crept at the same time but when Jungkook landed a good hit against his opponents temple the man finally went down. The crowed cheered and watched excitedly if the boxer will get ip again but ten seconds passed and he was still on the ground. A loud ring sounded through the hall and Jungkook raised his hands over his head triumphantly, grinning and rotating to look at the crowed. His eyes, again, landed on Jimin and they beamed at each other before the man with the microphone appeared again, ending the fight and announcing Jungkook as the winner. The silver haired guy hopped in the ring, a huge gummy smile on his face as he pulled Jungkook in a hug and handed him towel and water bottle. It was cute to watch them interact because Jungkook looked at the man with so much fondness and admiration, relishing in the praise like a child who proudly showed off a good grade to his parents.

They left the ring together and the crowed cheered again. People were petting Jungkooks back in congrats as he walked back to the changing rooms.

Earlier that day Jungkook had told Jimin were it would be best for him to wait until Jungkook would be ready after the fight so now Jimin jumped up and pulled Tae along. Out of the building and around it just as Jungkook had described, to get to the backdoor where Jungkook would leave through. He was nervously jumping up and down, while Tae was leaning on the brick wall with his arms crossed in front of his chest, growling things about “euphemizing violence" when the door opened.

Jimin basically jumped into Jungkooks arms. The younger let out a surprised noise but was quick to smile and wrap his arms around Jimin.

“Wow what did I do to deserve this enthusiastic greeting?” He chuckled. Jimin pulled back slightly and looked up at him.

“Duh, win the fight obviously.” He answered. Tae scoffed next to them, causing Jungkook to look into his direction.

“Oh right, Jungkookie this us Tae, Tae this is Jungkookie.” Jimin introduced them.

“Oh hi, you must be the platonic soulmate.” Jungkook said and extended his hand but Tae only narrowed his eyes at him until Jimin stabbed him in the side with his elbow in a silent 'be nice!' Tae rolled his eyes and finally took Jungkooks hand.

“Yeah, hi.” Jimin sighed at that.

“Give us a second.” He said and pushed Tae around the next corner.

“Tae why are you being mean?” He wanted to know.

“I'm not being mean, I'm being suspicious. He is a boxer Jiminie, violence and fighting is a daily thing for him. I just don't want you to get hurt.”

“Jungkookie would never hurt me, ever! He saved me, I can't believe we are even talking about that!”

“That he saved you doesn't mean he can't ever lose control. What if you have a fight some day and his 'hand slips', huh? You don't know this guy but you are already acting as if you two know each other for years.”

“I know him better than you do!” Jimin almost yelled. His best friend opened his mouth again but Jimin hold up his hand to shush him.

“Tae, I love you but you are being unfair, right now. You always talk about not judging books after their cover but now you are doing exactly that just because you dislike violence and he is a boxer. I think it's best of you go home for today and once you got over your prejudices you will see how sweet he is.”

“Jiminie-" Tae said, taking a step forwards but Jimin shook his head.

“No, just go home.” Tae sighed but eventually listened. Once he was out of sight Jimin turned and went back to Jungkook who was awkwardly standing where he had left him.

“Sorry, about that.” Jimin said sheepishly.

“It's alright, he us only worried about you. That's a good thing.” Jungkook said but Jimin rolled his eyes.

“He is acting like a mom and there is nothing to worry about anyway.” Jimin said. They made their way away from the building. It was silent for a while until Jungkook opened his mouth again.

“Jimin, I'd never let my hand slip.” He said seriously and Jimin smiled up to him, taking his hand.

“I know.”

They went in a small restaurant and ordered so may dishes, Jimin had no idea how they should possibly finish all that. They talked about everything and nothing for a while, making silly jokes and giggling into their hands to not disturb the other customers. One time Jungkook made a joke while Jimin took a sip from his drink and it caused him to choke. He had coughed and blushed furiously but Jungkook had stared at him with so much affection and tenderness it made Jimins heart bloom.

“You were really cool tonight, by the way.” Jimin said at one point and the beam Jungkook gifted him with was worth all the uneasiness and trouble he felt earlier when he had first entered the old gym hall.

“Thank you!”

“You like boxing very much, don’t you?” Jimin said and Jungkook tilted his head to one side.

“Yeah, I guess, why?”

“No, it’s just… I could see it. The passion you have, you know? I think it’s why you were so superior to your opponent. He was fighting to impress others, you are fighting for yourself.” Jimin mumbled but blushed when he noticed Jungkooks intense gaze. “Ah, sorry, I don’t know if that made any sense… I just-“

“No, it’s fine, you are right. I’m just surprised you could see this, even though you aren’t familiar with boxing.” Jimin shrugged.

“I think on some level boxing is pretty similar to dancing. You need the same control over your body, the tension, the knowledge how to move…” Jimin explained and for a few moments they stared at each other in silence.

“Wow, usually people think boxing is just about how is the strongest and has the harder hits. The only one I can talk to about boxing like this is my coach. You don’t know what a turn on it is that you sit here and casually talk about boxing like you did it all your life.” Jungkook murmured and Jimin blushed, biting his lip. Usually he would avert his eyes and stare at the ground in embarrassment but now there is something between them that makes Jimin feel save. So instead of feeling shy, he feels excited. He used that to be a little bold, leaning over to Jungkook and whispering

“You don’t know what a turn on it was seeing you in that ring, all naked and sweaty.” Jungkooks eyes widened and Jimin could see how his pupils dilated.

“You know, it would only be fair if I could see you dancing too now.” Jungkook said.

“My studio actually has a showcase in two weeks, if you really want to I can get you a ticket.” Jimin said, blush still prominent on his cheeks. It’s not that he is embarrassed about his dancing, he knows he is good at what he is doing, but knowing that Jungkook will be there watching him was… exciting.

After they finished their food they took a walk through the city. Jimin always liked taking walks through the night but he didn’t do it since he moved to the city because he never felt save enough, but now with Jungkook by his side it was like mothing could ever hurt him again.

The taller had an arm securely around Jimins shoulders, keeping him close and Jimin had snuggled into his side, enjoying the warmth that radiated off of Jungkooks body.

“Jimin?” Jungkook said at one point and Jimin hummed, signalling him to keep talking.

“Is this… like uh… was… was this a date?” Jimin couldn’t help but smile at how adorably nervous Jungkook sounded. He looked up at him and stood on his tip toes to press a kiss on the boxers cheek.

“I hope so.”

Jimin didn’t know for how long they paced through the dimly lit streets but after a while they ended up in front of his apartment building. He didn’t want Jungkook to go but he also didn’t want to rush things.

“I had fun tonight. Thank you for letting me see this.” Jimin said. Jungkook shook his head with a smile.

“Thank you for coming.” They smiled at each other and before Jimin could react Jungkook had leaned in and pecked his lips once, twice. After the third time Jimin grabbed his collar and pulled him in to kiss him properly. He felt Jungkook smile against his lips and bit it playfully, tugging on it and running his tongue over it afterwards. Jimin pulled back with a grin when Jungkook groaned.

“You are evil.” The younger said and Jimin shrugged amused.

Jungkook left after another few kisses and soft ‘goodnight’s.

[caslikescoffeeandfreckles]

This is a really dumb fic based on “The Fool” by Lee Ann Womack and honestly it blows but i’m tired of looking at it and trying to make it better goodbye

2.3k

Dean turns his collar up against the cold. There’s a sad howling in the wind and his toes are numbing from the slush soaking through his boots. His body aches for the left side of a bed that’s probably gone cold by now but he ignores it and continues toward the flickering neon sign. 

The bar is small and run down, a non-assuming haven for nursing blue-collar miseries with bottom-shelf whiskies and macro brews.

Dean spots a dark-haired woman at the bar immediately and makes his way over, pulling back the rickety stool to her right.

“Mind if I join you?”

The woman turns her head. She’s pretty; dark hair and dark eyes, a dangerous tilt to her lips as she looks him up and down. “Do I know you?”

“Not really.” He holds out a hand. “Dean Winchester.”

The woman raises her hand, sliding long manicured fingers along his palm and gives a tight squeeze. “Meg Masters.”

“I know.” One of her sharp brows arches in question, but Dean points at the stool. “May I?”

She nods and Dean eases into the seat, aware of the dark gaze watching his every move with cold suspicion. It’s more off-putting than he’d like to admit but he breathes through the nerves and gestures for the bartender.

“Two doubles for me and the lady.”

“So how is it that you know who I am but I’ve never even caught a glimpse of your handsome self?” Meg asks as their drinks are poured.

Dean’s laugh is hollow. “Gotta keep an eye on your competition right?” “Competition?” Meg echoes, eyes narrowing. “Who are you?”

“Who are you?” a gravelly voice asks.

Dean holds out a hand. “Name’s Dean Winchester. Jay sent me to help with your tire.”

They shake hands and the man’s hand is strong and soft. His blue eyes narrow a little suspiciously. “I’ve never seen you at Jay’s or anywhere in town before.”

“I’m the new guy for now,” Dean says moving around the car to check out the busted tire.

“For now?” the man echoes, following behind him.

“Yeah, I’m just passing through. Jay’s giving me some work until it’s time for me to go. You got a spare in the trunk?”

The bartender places the amber glasses in front of them and Dean reaches out for his, fingers flexing around the cold as his chest stutters to accept a breath.

“I’m the dumbass in love with the dumbass… who’s still in love with you.”

Her gaze is heavy as he tilts his head back and grimaces through the bittersweet burn of bourbon. The second it fades, he craves another, wants to drown in the bottle.

Meg still isn’t speaking and every passing second wreaks havoc on his stomach. The relief he had been expecting isn’t coming and he supposes that’s because it’s only half finished. He takes that second drink.

“You’re Cas’s boyfriend,” Meg says when he swallows.

The name does more to him than it has any right to, but it’d always had that effect.

Dean puts the tools in the drunk and lowers the door. “Okay, that donut is gonna get you around town but you need to buy a new tire as soon as you can.”

The guy grimaces and it’s almost cute. “Of course. I’ll figure it out. Thank you for your help, Dean.” He fishes for his wallet. “How much do I owe you?”

Dean waves him off. “It’s nothing, man. Anyone can change a tire.”

“Anyone but me, it would seem.”

“Well, if you can bring this fine lady by the shop some time, I can show you.”

The man’s eyes are so wide and earnest when he looks up, it’s breathtaking. 

“You would do that?”

“Yeah, man. Everyone should know how to change a tire. It comes in handy. Obviously.” 

The man casts a withering look at the small replacement tire, then back at Dean and he a small smile forms. “I think I’ll take you up on that, then.”

“Awesome. Then I guess I’ll see you around…?”

“Castiel. Castiel Novak. But you can call me Cas.”

It’s a beautiful name and Dean wants to say it on repeat. But he allows himself just one. “All right then, Cas. See you soon.”

“Well,” Meg breathes out and clicks her tongue. “Damn. Cas sure did good for himself. Always did know how to pick ‘em.”

Dean grimaces. “Maybe not as well as you think.”

Meg sighs and picks up her drink. “Look, kid, I don’t know how you got this idea about feelings between me and Cas, but I can promise-”

“He said your name in his sleep.” The words fall from his tongue, heavy and retched. Meg turns her head toward him. He swallows around the lump in his throat. “Happened last night. And a few other times.”

Dean still remembers the first time like a heart attack. Lying in the dark with his arms around Cas, warm and smelling of toothpaste and coconut shampoo. He stroked his hand up and down Cas’s waist and hid a kiss in his hair, felt a delightful fluttering in his stomach when Cas sighed in his sleep and shuffled closer, only for it to turn to a sickening lurch when a name was whispered into the silence. 

Meg.

“He doesn’t know he does it,” Dean goes on, turning the glass in his hands. It’s hard to look anywhere but at the whiskey swirling inside and he feels a painful strain on his throat with the effort to keep his tone level. “Sometimes he says he misses you. Most of the time it’s just your name. Just Meg.”

“Okay before you get some crazy idea in your head, Cas and I haven’t been together since we split.”

“I know,” Dean says. And he does. The thought had crossed his mind a few times but always passed before sprouting roots. “Cas would never do that.”

Meg nods and sips from her glass. “So why are you here?”

“So why are you here of all places?”

They’re in Jay’s garage and it’s hot and Cas is hovering just a few inches away while Dean tightens a lug nut. “I don’t know. Got tired of driving, I guess. And this place seemed okay.”

“Where are you going?”

“Nowhere in particular.”

“You’re just driving around the country for fun?”

Dean shrugs. “Nothing better to do.”

“When are you leaving?”

Dean lowers the torque wrench and turns around because Cas clearly isn’t interested in learning right now. “You ask a lot of questions, you know that?”

Cas straights up, looking admonished. “Sorry. I’ve been told my social graces leave something to be desired.”

“It’s fine, man.” Dean towels the sweat from his face and neck and reaches for his water bottle. “I’ll probably head out in a month or so.”

“Oh.” Cas looks down at the paved floor for a moment, brows furrowing. “Well, I was thinking that if you have the time and would be interested in getting to know the town a little better, maybe… we could get dinner some time?”

Dean blinks a few times, his stomach lurching even as his spine tingles because this doesn’t make any sense. “Are you asking me out?”

“Yes. Is that… okay?”

He’s been with people out of his league, but Cas is an entire different ballpark. “Dude, I’m a mechanic.”

Cas looks around the surroundings, taking in the elevated vehicles and the assortment of tools and spare tires lying about. “I’m aware.”

“I change oil on dirty cars all day and replace tires.”

“I’m aware what a mechanic does, Dean.”

“And you… want to take me to dinner?”

“Yes,” Cas says again and it’s so confident and sure.

Dean just shakes his head, blown away. “Do you always pick up guys you meet on the side of the highway?”

Cas’s face is bright red but he smiles and it’s lovely. “This will definitely be a first.”

Dean takes another drink of water and purses his lips. He doesn’t usually do “dates” in the towns he stops in. His encounters are limited to one-night stands and quickies in the back of a bar. But Cas is sweet and gorgeous and Dean wants to know how he holds his silverware and if he’s the type to hold the door open or pull out your chair. There’s absolutely no way anything could actually happen between the two of them, but damn if Dean doesn’t want to start something.

“If I’ve made you uncomfortable, I’m-”

“You know what, Cas? I think I’ll take you up on that offer.”

Cas looks pleasantly surprised, his smile soft as he meets Dean’s eyes. “Really?”

Dean nods. “Yeah, really. But — under one condition.”

“What is it?”

Dean grins. “You have to change a tire on your own.”

Dean digs his nails into the worn wood of the bar like a last ditch effort to hold on to something in this town. But he lets go and pulls out his wallet, decision made a long time ago.

“Cas is a great man who deserves everything. But the thing he wants is something I can’t give him. Trying to pretend otherwise, it’s not fair to him and-” he feels the sharp pressure building behind his eyes and bows his head, tries to blink it away but every time he does he just sees blue eyes and sleepy smiles, broad hands reaching out to him from under a blanket, kisses over coffee, and limbs tangled together under white sheets in the dark.

Meg.

And just like that, it’s all gone.

“And it’s not fair to me,” he finishes.

He drains his glass and throws a bill down on the bar and stands. Meg’s hand wraps around his wrist. “What are you going to do?” she asks.

“What are you going to do?” Cas asks between sips of his beer.

“What do you mean?”

“Like when you leave here? What are you going to do next?”

Dinner was magical. They talked for hours, Dean sharing more about himself and learning more about another person than he has in years. Cas did hold the door open and he folds his napkin in his lap and crosses his silverware over his plate to signal when he’s done. He also always holds eye contact while he’s listening to someone speak, he call the waiter “sir,” and his nose scrunches when he laughs.

After dinner, Cas showed him this little dingy bar. Nothing special, he had said, but it’s warm and cozy and the drinks are cheap. They grabbed two stools at the bar and continued talking, drifting closer and closer by the minute and Dean’s never felt more at ease in his life.

“I don’t know, Cas,” Dean finally answers. “I don’t know what’s next or what I really want. What about you? Is this is it for you or do you have a plan?”

Cas shrugs. “Not a plan, really. I mean, I like it here. I have a good career and good friends.”

“But?”

Cas smiles sadly. “No one to share it with.”

And a part of Dean wants to volunteer, but he just hums and listens.

“I used to think my ex was the one who I would spend the rest of my life with. That we could be more than enough for each other.” Cas blows out a slow breath. “But I was wrong.”

“I’m sorry, Cas.”

Cas takes another drink and stares up at the ceiling. “It’s fine. They’re out there somewhere. It sounds silly, but I believe in a one true love. A person we are cosmically designed for, like your hearts were made from the same mold. You walk a tightrope of fate toward each other all your lives, and sometimes you might lose your balance, but you get back on and some day you’ll see another pair of feet on it on the line.” Cas turns toward Dean with a shy smile. “Does that make me sound crazy?”

Cas’s words brought butterflies to Dean’s stomach and he feels a little lightheaded listening to this idea of love. He returns the smile. “No. That’s not crazy.”

“What do you believe?”

Dean had never really thought about it before. And he doesn’t know where the words he says come from, if they’re carried by the whiskey or if it’s just another magical side effect of Cas. “I believe that we’re all on a journey, searching for the thing that makes us whole. And when we find it, we can finally stop moving.”

“Is that why you move around so much?” Cas asks.

“I think so.”

“Do you think you’ll find what you’re searching for?”

“I hope so.”

“Do you think you could find it here?”

Dean meets Cas’s eyes. Everything feels quiet now, and nervous, like the molecules in the air are afraid of ruining the moment.

“Yeah, Cas. I think I could.”

He had been wrong. Dean was just a stumble off Cas’s tightrope, and Cas was a pit stop of Dean’s map, no matter how much he wanted him to be the final destination.

“I’m gonna do what’s right.” Meg’s hand falls away and Dean follows the motion with his eyes before meeting hers. “You take care of him, okay?”

His walk across the bar is scored with the whines of a sad mandolin, a song so befitting it almost makes him laugh. He shoulders past the door and the cold closes around him like an old friend.

The relief doesn’t hit him once he’s in his car or even two miles outside of town. But somewhere on the highway, two states out, something shifts in his chest and he takes what feels like his first proper breath in weeks. Maybe it’s not exactly relief, but he catches an exit sign and, this time, he doesn’t calculate the hours or miles to go back.

[spartanguard]

a classic spring break fling

This is a tad bit late, but HAPPY BIRTHDAY @phiralovesloki!!!!!!!! Hope you had the amazing, wonderful day you so deserve! This is just a bit of romantic Captain Charming silliness to hopefully continue your celebrations :) (thank you, @optomisticgirl, for looking it over!) | 2.6 k, rated T

David didn't know why he let Victor push him into these things. He barely even liked Victor; he had only agreed to go on this trip because August was going, too, and Spring Break alone in their apartment sounded lame, even if he could have used the time to catch up on school; fourth-year pre-vet courses were no joke.

But in some odd effort to show that he was cooler than Victor, or another similar dick-measuring contest, he'd agreed to join them in Daytona, and it had actually been a lot of fun. The sunny, balmy weather was a far cry from UMaine this time of year, and the beach provided plenty of eye candy. As much as he'd stared at the shirtless bods across the sand, he knew he'd garnered similar attention—and his friends had noticed that, too, which led to the current predicament.

“Come on, Dave, it's just a wet t-shirt contest; there's no way you don't win and then we get free beer.” Of course, it sounded so simple when Victor put it that way.

Normally, David was against any kind of objectification like that, of women or men. But...fucking Victor. This was going to be the third time this week he'd let the pre-med douchebag talk him into this shit.

And a glance across the crowd—in which he caught a flash of blue eyes and bedhead—told him that Killian was here.

And he wasn't sure if that made him excited or even more embarrassed.

See, the first “come on, Dave” had led them to a cornhole contest on the beach, sponsored by some restaurant with the promise of free wings to the winner. “There's no way you don't win; you played ball in high school.”

David’s argument of “That’s not the same thing” fell on deaf ears as Victor practically dragged him to the sign up and then over to the boards; a pleading look at August had only been met with his laughter. Some roommate he was.

“Look, dude, we’ll totally win, he’s only got one hand,” Victor said—not as quietly as he thought—after assessing their opponents.

“Victor, what the fuck? Do you ever shut your mouth?” David chastised, both annoyed and embarrassed by the outburst, and shoved Victor in the direction of the other board. Because yeah, one of their opponents was missing a hand—but that wasn’t the first thing he’d noticed about the guy.

It was pretty easy to miss when you were too busy staring at the bare chest, with its well-formed muscles and dark hair spread across his pecs that trailed down into low-slung swim trunks. Or at the strong biceps and forearms he could easily imagine in more intimate settings. Or at the far-too-attractive face, ridiculous blue eyes, thick dark hair and brows, and chiseled jaw that nearly put his own to shame, which was currently ticking in annoyance at Victor’s comment.

The guy next to him—a blond who was nearly as attractive—looked like he was trying to talk him down, but he shrugged the other man off, took a sip from his flask, and stepped up to the board David was standing by. As his friend jogged down to where Victor stood, David said quietly, “Sorry about that. He’s an ass.”

“It’s fine,” the guy replied, voice low and hard indicating that it clearly wasn’t. The way his first beanbag completely overshot the hole also said plenty about his current mental state, and it didn't seem to help when David’s slid right into the hole. They passed a tense first round in a similar manner, and the second saw the guy brooding with his flask again. David wasn’t much a fan of tense, awkward situations—and he loathed the idea of someone so attractive hating him—so he tried to diffuse this one when they started the third.

“I’m David.”

“Killian.”

“Where are you guys from?”

“England; we’re on break from uni.”

“Same.”

They continued to make small talk—about their schools, studies, and where they were staying—and Killian seemed to calm down, only sulking a tiny bit when David and Victor easily won.

“Good match,” Killian said, offering David his hand; he had a firm grip that made David’s mind wander to other things that probably shouldn’t be done on a public beach. “Um, I don’t suppose you might want to meet up again sometime? Maybe without your friend over there?” Victor was presently crowing about the win to whatever girl would listen, but David was hardly paying attention because he was basically floored by Killian’s request.

“Uh, yeah! I’d love to! Same spot, tomorrow?”

“Sounds good. Until then,” he nodded, finally let go of David’s hand, and walked off with his mates.

The wings were good, but not as good as the feel of Killian’s hand in his.

The second “come on, Dave,” was, unfortunately, the next day, because David hadn’t quite been able to shake free of Victor and August. But it seemed that Killian had the same luck with his friends. They’d hardly greeted each other when Victor was already badgering him into a beer pong tourney (how many stereotypical college games could one place host during Spring Break?) in hopes of free pizza.

But then Killian joined him. “I’m in if you are. Ready for a challenge, mate?” he said with a smirk—an amazing thing that cut a dimple into the well-manicured, gingery scruff on his face (that David was realizing he wanted to feel against his palm, and his lips, and probably more places).

“Ugh, fine,” David sighed. “August, we’re doing this.” No way was he teaming up with Victor again.

It was them against Killian and his friend Will, who was already unsteady on his feet and seemed slightly tipsy; David wasn’t sure if that boded well for him and August or not—it was always hard to say when it came to pong.

“Think you can handle this?” Killian was grinning at him from the other end of the table and it was hard not to smile back when he looked so happy and carefree—a far cry from yesterday’s sulking (not that he could be blamed).

“Are you sure you can?” David threw back with a wink. Killian glanced down and...blushed? Did he actually blush? Which nearly made David blush at the idea of making Killian blush. He’d only known the guy for about 4 hours and his schoolyard crush—because had to admit that’s what this was—was beginning to spiral out of control.

He was still staring at Killian when, out of nowhere, Will sunk the first ping pong ball, right in the middle. “Holy shit,” August whispered, and they both took their drinks (per the rules of this tournament), realizing what they were about to be in for.

The American were no slouches, either, and did take an early lead. But the alcohol seemed to have little effect on their opponents, so it wasn’t long until he and August were uselessly shooting at two cups that suddenly seemed very far away, while Killian and Will were catching up and sinking every shot. David was on his third beer and he was seriously wondering what was in Killian’s flask that he seemed so unaffected.

“You’ve gotta be cheating. No way you’re this good drunk,” he blurted out.

Will answered, “‘E’s a pirate! And all good pirates can hold their rum.” Killian just smirked, and David kind of wanted to kiss it off of him. He settled for attempting to sink another ball and instead hitting Killian’s (perfect) chest.

Not even two turns later, it was all over: the pizza belonged to the Brits and David vowed to never again have August as a partner.

Again, they all shook hands after, and then Will and the other guy—Robin—ran off to collect their prize. But Killian lingered, just like last time.

“You nearly had us there; I was a bit worried,” he said brightly. “You Yanks do know your stuff.”

“Pretty sure it started over here,” David replied, though his heart wasn’t really into a teasing match. But he did need to know: “Is that really rum in your flask?”

Killian replied by popping the cap of it and offering it up. “Inspect me, Officer.” His tone was nearly filthy and he ran his tongue over his lips and winked. Hot damn.

Unfortunately, David could smell it and it nearly made his stomach turn—he learned the hard way freshman year not to mix beer and rum. He saved face as much as he could, just barely not gagging. “Yeah, I believe you.”

The hungry gaze in Killian’s blue gaze faded a bit, but he didn’t seem deterred. “Shall we meet again tomorrow? This seems to be our thing now.”

David took a glance over at his friends, who were continuing to work on the 24-pack they’d bought that morning, before giving Killian an answer. “Yeah, we should; but I’ve also got another idea.”

So here they were, night three of three with one of Victor’s crazy ideas for getting free shit. And Killian was going to be subjected to it yet again. Just because he’d been game last night didn’t mean he would today; for all his come-ons and chest baring, he was surprisingly a bit modest.

(Thankfully, this wasn’t the first time they were seeing each other today. David had taken advantage of his roommates’ hangover and met up with Killian for brunch, where they actually got to talk—really talk—about their lives: their brothers, who were both gone but still dear to them; school, and how Killian’s desire to put his planned-on law degree to use was similar to David’s vet aspirations; and their thoughts on love, having both been burned in the past but very much still open to it.

That last part might have been paired with some very longing glances on both sides.)

“Seriously, Victor? This is the third fucking time you’ve pushed me into one of these things. Why don’t you do it?”

“Because even I know I’d lose to you. And we’re almost out of beer.”

“And whose fault is that?”

“All of ours. Now go!” David nearly stumbled with how hard Victor pushed him in the direction of the stage next to the beachfront bar, and he grumbled all the way up to the registration table.

He was putting on the just-too-tight shirt they gave him when a familiar accent spoke behind him. “Well, this should settle the score. We’re tied, right?”

Killian was slipping his equally form-fitting top on, and there was that smirk again when his head popped through.

“Yeah, I guess we are,” he answered slowly, suddenly much happier to be in this. At least he wasn’t going through this subjugation on his own.

(And, despite his thoughts on the matter, he knew he definitely wouldn’t mind seeing Killian in a wet shirt.)

“May the best man win,” Killian said, extending his hand. David clapped it and nodded, and probably held on just a bit too long but he really, really enjoyed the feel of Killian’s hand in his. And based on the warm blue gaze that was holding his own, Killian felt the same.

The host on stage announced that the contest was beginning, pulling them from their trance and making them jump apart (and making Killian blush again). Ever the gentleman, he gestured for David to head up first, which he did while staring at the steps lest he trip on one.

They lined up on stage with a few other guys, though David didn’t really spare them a glance, too hyper aware of the fact that Killian was on his right. His only other thought was that he hoped the water was warm.

Which, he found out seconds later, it wasn’t. Cold buckets dumped on them from above and all the contestants yelped in surprise, hopping up and down in an attempt to regain body heat from the just-barely-not-ice bucket challenge. Four times that happened, each one worse than the other.

When he was finally able to stand upright and breathe, he didn’t even bother looking at the competition—his eyes immediately traveled to Killian, who he was pleased to see had done the same (but was doing a decidedly better job of checking out everyone else and not just David, but...he could tell). The now-see-through top had done little to hide his chest hair before, and now it stood out bold through the fabric. But so did his abs, which looked even more defined in the constricting cotton, and his pecs were heaving as he tried to catch his breath, too. The shirt had already clung to his biceps but now it was like a second skin.

David could guess that he was putting on just as good a show, save for his depressing lack of body hair, but he’d always been pretty well-built and the way the shirt was clinging to him surely showed it off. But he honestly didn’t think he stood a chance against Killian, and he really hoped his shorts weren’t clinging to him too much, either.

They were all made to turn and flex and preen a bit, to the audience’s thrill, before the judges made their decisions.

“I think it’ll be you, mate,” Killian whispered during the brief break. “No one else compares.”

“No way, man; it has to be you,” David murmured back. “I’d be shocked if it wasn’t.”

Killian didn’t get a chance to respond when the host came back, announcing the winner and the runner up...who weren’t either of them. The winner could have passed for Bucky Barnes and the runner up looked like he walked right off the set of Fifty Shades. Out of the corner of his eye, David saw Victor kicking the sand in disappointment and Will also shaking his head.

However, David didn’t much mind. Because no sooner had they hopped off the stage than Killian had turned around, grabbed a fist of wet t-shirt, and hauled David toward him, finding his lips with his in a perfect kiss that they’d honestly been building to the past few days. David’s cool skin quickly flushed when he made contact with Killian’s still-warm chest, and he finally reached up to feel Killian’s rough beard on his palm. It was just as amazing as he imagined, but not as incredible as the gentle scratch of it against his lips as they continued to kiss passionately in front of who-knew-how-many strangers that they were no longer aware of. His free arm pulled Killian tight to him and it felt so right to be next to him like that, and he wasn’t sure how he’d gone this long without it.

“Fuckin’ finally.”

Will’s exclamation had them jumping apart, only to see all of their friends lined up in front of them.

“Bloody hell, Scarlett! I don't interrupt you when you're having a snog,” Killian admonished, but still stayed close to David’s side.

Robin jumped in. “You should’ve snogged him ages ago; what took you so long?”

“Well, it's not his fault that David’s a little slow in things,” August added, taking David aback.

“Wait—were you all in on this?”

“Why do you think I made you do all these games?” Victor answered with a shrug. “I knew Robin as a kid and we reconnected. Thought you two needed some lovin’, and here we are.”

David’s jaw dropped and he looked at Killian, who appeared equally stricken. But, in the end, he guessed it didn't matter.

Because as he gave his friends the middle finger and went back to making out with Killian, he knew it was worth all the embarrassment in the world.

tagging some others who might enjoy it (I’m not sure who all is in the CC trashcan anymore but I think it might be growing to a dumpster): @kat2609 @nfbagelperson @gusenitsaa @annytecture @thesschesthair @xpumpkindumplingx @fergus80 @its-like-a-story-of-love @cocohook38 @hencethebravery @mahstatins @the-reason-to-sail-home @abbadons-little-witch @yayimallamaagain @ladyciaramiggles @stubble-sandwich @queen-mabs-revenge @katie-dub @walkerfairytales @dassala (feel free to ignore!)