#featuring: henry devlin (coinquinatvs)

[esoterium]

@coinquinatvs || basorexia || accepting always. cause kisses!

[ Henry, for Beaver~ ] Basorexia: 15 + 2: a first kiss that comes out of nowhere.

derry's covered in a thick fog. a winter storm's bearing down on them and he's got a haul of firewood in the back of his pick up that he grabbed just for a certain doctor that he's worried might not've taken the time to get enough for himself. considering what the news is saying? they could be without power for longer than anyone's gonna care for with the temperatures dropping below zero. there's other supplies in a few bags. candles, hand warmer packs. enough to carry anyone through the worst. because one thing they got going? maine's so used to getting it's ass kicked by the cold? they'll get their shit figured out fast. just gotta deal with it til then.

the bags now at his feet inside henry's house. the firewood's safe and dry. beaver's standing at the window looking out at his truck with a mug of hot chocolate and bailey's knowing that his worry and his fucking overkill in making sure all things henry were storm ready were a sure sign that above and beyond.. meant something.

toothpick twirling against his tongue, his gaze bounces to henry's reflection in the glass. he holds the stick expertly still as he swallows a sip of his spiked drink. the wood reappearing once the mug's lowered only to be taken out and shoved in his coat pocket when he turns around and henry's right behind him. there's a closeness that visibly shakes beav. has him damn near dropping the mug before he bends to lower it to a coffee table. thanks and you're welcome. his voice is strained. his eyes get tired. god damn he's so wary of pretending he'd do this for any of his friends. a select few, yes. but henry? he's the one he rushed here to check on first.

beaver moves to excuse himself but neither one of them move. he swears he hears an offer to ride out the storm there. but his head feels like a sponge and his hearing's muted by the thundering heartbeat. henry's eyes are on his mouth. beaver's gaze reflects henry's. all eyes on the doctor's lips. who knows who makes the first move? he'll replay it later in his head. but henry's mouth tastes like home the minute his lips are sealed against it and his hands are buried into the top of henry's hair. beav's on his toes, tasting him like he's been starving. devouring the flavor like he's never swallowed a drop of heaven in his life til now. fuck me freddy. so this is a thing.

[bloodsalted]

@coinquinatvs || meme catch up!! || beep beep!

[ Henry~ ] ( SHIELD ): in order to protect them from physical harm caused by a third party, the sender shoves the receiver against the wall and shields them with their body.

henry wasn't supposed to ever see this side of dean's life. that's not what he wanted for the other man. considering the weight the psychiatrist carries on his shoulders at any given time? the last thing dean ever wanted to do to him was add more. sides. this is a part of him that not many outsiders are allowed to see. why? because it comes with opening up a world that they shouldn't be involved in. shouldn't be part of. that secret, horrifying world of monsters and terrible things that don't only go bump in the night but whenever they want. to whoever they want to go bump to. creatures and humans alike. being evil doesn't discriminate. neither does dean when it comes to putting a stop to it.

albeit tonight? in derry, maine? a hotspot for anything paranormal that keeps bring him back? putting a stop to the thing he's hunting? proven a little more difficult than what dean was planning. that's why when the shadow he's chasing down near the docks ducks into an alcove made of plaster that supports a bridge overhead? dean's already panting from how long they've been fighting one another. chasing after each other. hunting and being hunted.

watchful eyes lose track of his hunt. dean pivots on one foot. shifts and does the same on the other. "shit. SHIT." he doesn't see the shadow darting back and forth, avoiding being seen. a hand reaches out--dean damn near shoots first (a double barrel full of rock salt. isn't going to kill henry but god damn, it woulda hurt something AWFUL) and asks questions later. so says the way the cold steel touches the skin underneath henry's chin. green eyes deadly--reality sinks in. "for fuck's sake! henry!" the entity, seeing that it is now outmatched, screeches and disappears into the water. a quick retreat and the hunt is gone. leaving only the sound of splashing against the canal and dean's rapid breaths filling the air.

"i damn near shot--fuck--i," fingers curl around henry's wrist and his gaze continues to search the other man's. "thanks.. that was getting.." what's the right word for it? frustration smears itself on dean's features. "your town is its own planet.."

[esoterium]

@coinquinatvs || your affection || accepting!

[ Henry, for Beaver~ ] 💓 – to  listen  to  my  muse's  heartbeat.

they're relaxed back against a bunch of pillows piled on the floor in front of the television. large screen playing one of henry's favorite movies. something beaver hasn't seen that he doesn't remember the title of. but it's good and it's sucked him in. not as much as the head on his chest though.

beaver's long fingers push through the hair on top of henry's head as the other hums against his chest. legs tangle with the others and a soft sigh parts his laps. glasses long forgotten, he doesn't need them to see this close anyway. the tv screen's big enough. this is moment's perfect. they got a fire going. the light bounces off the ceiling, the walls. murmuring down into the softness of henry's hair--beav murmurs, "ever think we'd end up like this? cause i'm starting to wonder if this is a dream i'm going to wake up from sooner or later. too damn good to be true."

in all these years? he didn't think he could find such a perfect thing. and it's been under his nose the whole fucking time. from relationship to relationship. one failed married and a handful of other attempts before that. all fell to pieces. he's too much to deal with. too much to take. there's too much in his head that he doesn't let out and too much baggage for someone else. he doesn't blame them. not a single bit. to get the hell out of dodge and not look back.

henry knows all that shit and more. knows everything about him. the most anyone ever has. then some. it's how they're all wired together. "took so much bullshit for us to see. too many damn years. figurs though. that'd be us..walk a mile to gain an inch." lips press against the top of henry's head.

[bloodsalted]

[ Henry~ ] *places an apple AND a cherry pie on the table in front of him*

@coinquinatvs || pie day shenanigans || yeah, buddy!!

"knew you were a good guy from the second i met ya, doc. dare i say a keeper even? and i don't say that about many shrinks. pull up a chair. i'll even share this round."

[bloodsalted]

god damn it! that thing's really starting to hurt. dean's brow tightens as he bites back a wince when muscles involuntarily jerk. they leave a stabbing ache in their wake of betrayal against his nerve endings. he doesn't want to touch anything. kinda even regrets bringing it up at this point because the longer he thinks about it, the more it's starting to ache and that's the EXACT OPPOSITE of what he wants. jesus christ, he really did get the shit end of the deal on this one. well. maybe not. the thing he was chasing that got him this wound? that's dead. so there's that. could always be worse.

eyebrows wrinkle together as pressure's put on the cloth. dean's teeth pinch into his bottom lip and he nods as he forces his features to smooth out. take it like a man, as he was taught. "got ya. sure. i got this," he feigns an uneven smile that doesn't last but a couple of seconds. a squeeze of henry's hand to reassure him he's okay and his hand's put on the cloth. teeth bite down on the back sides of his tongue. he's got this. fuck. he's got this. just keep repeating that. and he may believe the bullshit.

dean doesn't give him any sort of reaction when he shows him the scars other than immediate understanding. there's gotta be a story there. and it's one henry will share if he feels like he wants to. dean won't push. those kinda scars have a way of opening themselves when you push too hard. and it's not his business if henry wants to keep those stories to himself. "okay.. and don't worry about the painkillers. i'll be fine. but i won't say no to booze," puffs out a faint, wobbly laugh and watches henry rise to his feet to go fetch the supplies he needs.

❝ I may not be, but I've got the same basic anatomical and medical training as every other Doctor. ❞ He offered, his tone strictly matter-of-fact as he eased the towel back just the slightest bit further to get a completely unobstructed view of the gash. ❝ Okay, ❞ pursing his lips ever so slightly, he sat back on his heels, then turned at the waist to pluck a fresh hand towel from the table.

❝ Here's what I need you to do, Dean, ❞ carefully, he pressed the towel he'd just grabbed and folded against the gash. ❝ I need you to hold this towel in place with as much pressure on it as you can stand. — While you do that, I'm gonna grab my kit, a few more towels and other essentials.. and I'll be back. ❞ As he spoke, he took Dean's hand and guided it to rest above the towel, not really thinking about what he was doing.. or how much he wished he'd had a hold of Dean's hand for vastly different resons.

He paused for a moment before rising to his feet, then swallowed thickly before tugging up his sleeves to show Dean the insides of his arms and wrists - his handiwork, both with blades and stitches. ❝ Better than I've got any right to be, ❞ he then muttered, and quickly pulled his sleeves back down. ❝ — I don't have any pain killers, really. But I may have something a little stronger than Wine around here, somewhere. ❞

[esoterium]

henry thinking of himself? never. that's why he's here. of course he'd think about his cats. beaver would think about his cats. if he had any. any kinda pet would take top priority in his life. sure. henry would do the same. problem is? that's where henry stops. (we're not going to talk about how that's where it'd stop for beav, too..that's besides the point and he's never said he isn't a hypocrite--whatever!) cause thinking about himself? that's not something he does. henry's full of thinking of other people and animals and fuck all about henry. so? that's where beav steps when when a fucking snowpocalypse is breathing down derry's fucking neck.

yeah there's some truth that he didn't want to spend it alone. being snowed into a bar. or the place he sorta calls home? not something his brain was going to be able to take for any extended period of time. not without something to distract himself from, well, himself. and yeah. he coulda gone to pete's or jonesy's. that's not where he WANTED to be. this is where he wanted to be..

and this is the reason why...

even if he's lied to himself for years. decades. through fucked up relationships that ended evenmoreso. messes that got messier and messier and no matter how hard he or she hung on? never ended up panning out. it's like you're somewhere else. how many time's he heard that? there's not enough fingers on both hands. that somewhere else? was inside the mouth that his tongue's dipping out to take a taste of. inside the mouth that a small noise ends up slipping over the tongue of because he can't hold it in anymore.

beaver stays in that kiss. in that moment where he's falling against henry and letting the other hold him up cause his knees are so fucking weak that there's no way he can support himself. even if his figures so damn near close to scarecrow that it's kinda ironic that he made it through the fall and into winter without the birds picking him apart. jesus. he doesn't even think about it when he lets his arms come up all the way and wrap around broader shoulders to where he can feel the warm air against his abdomen where his shirt's rumpled up just enough that a sliver of it's bare. his skin's too warm to notice.

then henry's giving them room to breathe and beav's barely able to take the distance. thick lashes hover low over his eyes as he chases after those lips that they crack open far enough to stare at upon their retreat. another peck is given to the corner as the other speaks.

he can still taste henry's drink on his lips and the inside of his mouth. hell he can still taste HENRY there as he nods his head and mumbles, "jesus christ bananas. yeah. okay. i'll STAY." cause fuck if he can think of going anywhere before this happened and now? now wild horses, as the saying goes. finally, his eyes open--stunned stupid and staring into henry's with a pleading look that's practically begging him to do it again. tongue catches the flavor one more time by sweeping over his bottom lip before disappearing inside so he can whisper, hell, croak out.. "should probably give that another go.. you know? just for the fucking hell of it.. what do ya say?"

Patients had been telling him all about how terrible this storm was supposed to be all day; after the sixth time he'd been given the ' batten down the hatches! ' speech, he'd come dangerously close to laughing Mr. Johnson right out of his office before their session could actually begin. — On the way home, the local radio station had forgone playing music altogether in favor of keeping everyone that might still be out and about informed.. and Henry honestly couldn't recall ever having been so violent towards his radio as he had been when he'd finally turned the damned thing off.

Unfortunately, he hadn't actually given firewood any thought, if only because he knew he had some at home.. at least a few days' worth. He hadn't really given any storm preparations any thought, at least.. not until he'd walked through the door and all of his cats came running up to him at once. ❛ Ah, hell. ❜ Well, the cats would definitely be alright; he'd move Heaven and Earth to make sure they would be warm enough and properly fed. As for himself, well.. whatever.

Beaver showing up at his door had been completely unexpected, and wildly concerning.. but not at all unwelcome. In fact, Beaver's sudden appearance lifted his mood and gave him something else - besides the cats, another bottle of wine, and the ceiling - to focus on. Beaver showing up was the prompting he needed to get to work, to start rummaging through kitchen drawers for candles, matches, and the ONE bottle of liquor he kept around the house. — It also filled him with guilt; Beaver shouldn't be out in this mess. But, for what it was worth, at least Beaver was safer there with him than he would've been if he'd been out at one of the bars he still haunted..

The tips of his teeth had sank deeply into his lower lip as he'd lingered in the kitchen, just watching Beaver stand there in front of the den's main window. ❛ At least he's here with me. ❜ Of all the places Beaver could have gone - including Pete's, or Jonesy's place - he'd come HERE.

He hadn't meant to get so close. He hadn't meant to startle Beaver, either. His only intention had been to make sure Beaver knew he could stay.. in fact, he'd already decided he wasn't going to take ' no ' for an answer - it wasn't even an option in his mind. But when Beaver had turned around, his train of thought had been derailed. His plans fell by the wayside, and something else took their place. Something he'd thought about.. and had been both ashamed and terrified of for YEARS.

Who had made the first move? Henry couldn't remember either, but maybe that was for the best. He didn't want to think. He didn't want to ruin it for either one of them, as was his unfortunate tendency. — The taste of chocolate and liquor was still heavy on Beaver's tongue. And his lips? They were softer than Henry would ever have imagined they'd be.. and he'd imagined it more times than he'd any desire to admit. It felt.. RIGHT, and getting lost in Beaver's mouth and the feeling of having him so close was remarkably easy. It was easier than it should've been, and the fact that didn't frighten him was.. wild.

His hands found their way to Beaver's face, their palms carefully cradling his stubbled cheeks as he tore his lips away at last. His lungs were burning, his heart was pounding, and his head was spinning. ❝ — I... Stay with me. ❞