#like 'no motherfuckers i actually want to burn every bridge please and thank you'

[wavesoutbeingtossed]

.

[bondedbrotherhoodau]

Complicated - part 2

Written by @VishousBDB_ and @YesImAGlowstick  (AU)

*~*~*~*~*

Lassiter:

“You’re a pain in the ass, y’know that?”

I didn’t care if he was shot. The second I started taking it easy on the goateed motherfucker was the second he’d eat me alive. And no, I’m not sure there was a pun intended there either.

The underground storage space near one of the highway bridges had been the best I could do at short notice. Already I could hear and feel the stream of cars that signalled the humans getting up, going about their days and driving to work. I, meanwhile, got to try and patch up a vampire that appreciated help about as much as he appreciated a sand paper enema.

The Brotherhood owned this little bolt hole for, I suspect, these exact circumstances; life threatening situations in which vampires cannot dematerialize home and need some place to wait the sun out. Which meant it had supplies: a little food, a little water, and halle-fucking-lujah, a med kit.

I would’ve preferred a doctor, mind, but in the process of getting the demi-god here, my phone had up and died. V’s was nowhere to be found, leading me to believe he’d lost it in the fight and the act of getting shot. Clever fucker that he was. Which meant I was up shit creek as far as calling for Manny or Doc Jane; y’know, the two people actually trained to handle this shit.

“V, can we make a memo that all these little bunkers need to be better equipped for next time,” I muttered, rifling through the kit and taking out the gauze, bandages, forceps and anything else I was going to need. “I’d settle for a live in doctor or, gee, maybe a phone charger.”

Not bothering with foreplay, I lifted the male to strip his coat, then ripped the shirt away. I flashed back to the fact I’d only seen this body, in far better condition, a few hours earlier. Looking down at the bullet wound, I cursed softly and grabbed a wad of gauze, applying pressure to keep all that bright crimson from seeping out.

“Alright Doc V, talk me through this shit. What do you want me to do?”

Vishous: *The angel had managed to get my ass to one of the bunkers we had for short emergencies. I was in and out on the way here. His body heat warmed me up. It was freezing and the adrenaline was long gone. I was shaking and the pain was pretty fucking extreme. My diamond eyes met his.* “ Is there any liquor in that duffle?” *I managed a smirk. I didn’t want to angel to worry but I had lost a lot of blood. And fuck me my chest wouldn’t stop bleeding. On top of that I was sure the bullet was still inside.*

Lassiter:

If he hadn’t already been bleeding out, I would’ve smacked him.

“Oh, sure. Jokes at a time like this. You’re so fucking /clever/,” I growl, pushing a little harder onto the wound with my failing gauze pad. “Seriously, you miserable fuck, talk me through this. I’m not a doctor, no, but I’ve been round long enough to know what the fuck you’re talking about.”

And I’m not going to let you die, I thought, taking a steadying breath. No way, no how. Looking around, I eyeballed the table across the room, by the other medical supplies.

“We’re moving. Here.”

I grabbed his hand and put it in place where mine had been, stemming the flow of blood. Before V could protest I had my arms under him, hoisting him up and carrying him across the room. He groaned, the sound grating down my spine as I acknowledged he was in pain.

Setting the male down on the table, I flicked on the lights and reached for whatever medically inclined tool, bag or supply was close, dragging everything to be in easy reaching distance.

“This is what we’ve got to work with,” I heard myself say, eyeing the instruments, forceps and what not. “So tell me. Or so help me Creator I’m going in blind all ‘Don’t Touch The Sides’ like.”

Vishous: *It fucking hurt when he moved me to the table. I almost wanted to throw up. His tone was serious as he placed the medical tools beside me. His eyes looked pleading. Dying here was easy. Even if I wanted to give up the angel would not let me. My hand was still pressed to the wound on my chest near my scarred shoulder. My hand was soaked* “You saved me. I owe you one Lassiter. I’m going to walk you through and try not to pass out from shock. Ive lost alot if blood and I will need to feed after. The bullet is still in my chest you will need to get it out and fast. As soon as I move my hand away, I’m going to bleed out. I am almost sure it nicked a subclavian artery. You are going to douse the tools in alcohol and then pour it in my wound. Then take the forceps and dig out the bullet as carefully as you can. Then I need you to cauterize the wound to stop the bleeding and infection. I may pass out so my hand is not an option.”

Lassiter:

“You don’t owe me shit until your dumbass is awake and breathing tomorrow, yeah?” I reply distractedly, moving my hands to follow his instructions. “Side note, push comes to shove, I’m giving you my blood. Y’never know. Could be good for you,” I manage a wry smile as I grabbed the alcohol and poured it over the instruments and the wound.

Then I didn’t have time for smart ass comments or ribbing the male, because fuck me, I was actually close to seeing his ribs. Following V’s instructions, while trying to ignore the sounds of pain and the excessive blood loss of the male, I also tapped into my angel senses. Cause fuck, I needed every advantage I could get right now.

Feeling for the bullet, I carefully withdrew it, breathing shallow as I tossed the metal into a bowl with a solid ‘ting’. Now for the fun part… Shiiiiiiiit.

Grabbing a lighter (thank you, V, for smoking) I ran it under the best tool I could find until the metal was hot enough to leave a scar on even /me/. Then…

“Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry.”

I pressed the instrument into the male’s chest, against the wound, sealing it.

Vishous: *The white hot pain on my chest was unbearable. I let out a scream that shook the room. And hey whadaya know. It was lights out…*

Lassiter:

The scream ripped at something inside me, my heart pounding in my chest. Worse though was the silence. Vishous passed out seconds before I withdrew the instrument. It took me a second to realise I was breathing hard, my ears ringing with the male’s scream of pain. Setting it down slowly, I watched the miserable burnt hole in his chest, watched for more blood to run free.

When nothing happened, I let out the breath I’d been holding, one hand shaking until I clenched it into a fist and switched to my next task. Dressing the wound.

Whatever gauze and bandages were still clean were applied to the wound and taped. With care I hoisted the male up, wrapping the bandages around his chest and shoulder to keep everything in place. Then I was lowering him back down, checking his breathing, the pulse at his throat. For a minute I stood there, staring down at the male with all the conflict raging in my head and knowing, without question, that if he’d died tonight… I wouldn’t be the same.

Cursing softly, I cleared away the dirty instruments. A little water and the ruined remains of V’s shirt helped me wipe away any blood across his chest and abdomen. Stripping off my coat, I removed whatever ammo and weapons were left and used it as a blanket, covering as much of Vishous’ bulk as I could.

With that done, the male breathing okay and no longer bleeding out, I took several big steps back from the table. Turning away, I dropped into a crouch, running my hands through my hair as I took a shuddering breath in and let it out. Too close.

That had been /way/ too close…

Vishous: *It seemed days had passed when I opened my eyes but that couldn’t be right cuz we were still down in the dark cashe. My chest was hurting like a sonofabitch and my throat was raw and burning. Fuck. I was alive thanks to the angel but now I needed to feed. No females around just the angel. He was sitting at my side watching me as I tried to sit up, he helped me. It was fucking embarrassing being this weak and vulnerable right now. * “Lassiter.” I swallowed hard. “Need blood…”

Lassiter:

When Vishous opened his eyes, relief ran through me I hadn’t been expecting. Helping the normally strong male struggle his way into a sitting position was brutal, but I was just pleased to feel him up and moving under my hands.

“Well, I hate to break it to you, sweetheart, but your only source right now is ‘me’,” I mutter, dragging my coat back into place around the male’s waist. His chest was bare other than bandages, and the stark whiteness of them matched the pallor of his skin. “If you’re willing to try my vein… then I’m offering it.”

Presenting my wrist, I eyeballed the male.

“If it’s not your cup of tea, cool, just don’t bite my damn hand off, yeah? N’ once you’re done, lay the fuck back down. You’re too pale for my liking.”

Vishous: *Angel blood was like heroin for vampires. I had tasted him before and almost lost my shit. The high was unlike anything I have ever indulged in. Better than red smoke Phury used to ingest on the reg. But I would die if I didn’t drink from Lassiter. He wasn’t a female vampire so I just had to hope it would work. And I had to keep my fucking hands to myself. I pulled his offered wrist to my mouth and my fangs elongated. Though secretly I would of prefered his jugular vein even though it would be intimate. With a heavy sigh, not trusting myself, I bit down as gently as was possible with a starving vampire. His silver, hot blood poured down my throat. Filling me up, strengthening me. I could feel my body again, no longer cold or numb. The pain in my chest was gone and the high started to hit. My diamond eyes rolled in the back of my head and I tightened my grip on the angels forearm. I didn’t want to let go. And unnatural growling came from my throat. I was in pure ecstasy.* M…i…n…e

Lassiter:

There was a pleasurable pain that came from the bite, enough that had it been at my neck, the male would’ve gotten a whore worthy moan outta me. As it was, I withheld any sound, focusing on the male and what he needed to heal. The growl was a surprise though, and for a vampire that had been dancing on the edge of a reaper’s scythe not long ago, his grip was /strong/.

“Hold up,” I gasped softly, resisting the urge to pull away. “Yours?” A shiver ran up my spine. This was ‘not’ how I’d pictured this going. “V… do you… do you feel any better?”

Cause I was definitely feeling better about this.

Vishous: *It took every ounce of strength I had to pull away from the angel. I stumbled away from the male, tripping over my own feet and slamming into the steel wall furthest away from him. I winced but my body relaxed a fraction from the familiar shock of pain.* Stay….away….

Lassiter:

My hand automatically went to cover the wound on my other wrist as the male launched himself away from me like I was contagious. The flash of pain across his face /hurt/ me to see, and without thinking I dropped my wrist and moved toward him.

“V… you have to calm down. You’ll rip open the still healing wounds you knob,” I managed, throwing in the insult to try and simmer things down.

Even if my heart was racing and I wanted his lips in other places.

Vishous: *I closed my eyes and concentrated hard to fight myself on what the angels blood was doing to my body. It would be dusk soon and we could leave this place. I took a few deep breaths but that made it worse. I could smell him. And he smelled good. Like warm weather and spice. I wanted him. Needed him. I started slamming myself into the wall. The pain allowed me focus and with Lassiter approaching I was very afraid of acting on my emotions. I would never do anything the angel didn’t want. I wasnt that type of male. His blood enhanced my emotions. It took what was lying deep in my core and brought it to the surface. I had never been so fucking afraid.*

Lassiter:

The male slammed himself against the wall repeatedly. My heart ached at the pain he caused himself. The pain my proximity seemed to cause.

Dropping my hands that had been reaching for him, I backed up, till I was halfway across the room again. My shoulders slumped as I lifted my hands again in surrender. Misery settled in my stomach like a lead weight.

“Okay… okay… I’m over here. Stop V. Please… please stop hurting yourself. I’ll stay over here, aight? Just… just stop.”

Vishous: *The angel was smart and backed up giving me some space and room to breath. I stopped kissing the wall and slumped down on the floor. I could feel the blood trickle down my face and drip onto the hard concrete floor. I reached into the pocket of my leathers and pulled out a hand rolled. Putting the tip between my lips I searched for my lighter that I remember Lassiter has used to singe my wound. I could think clearly now and a lot of nicotine would calm my nerves. I looked up at the angel.* Throw me the lighter?

Lassiter:

He stopped nailing himself against the wall, and fuck me wasn’t that a bonus. I could smell the iron tang of blood on the air, but I fought the impulse to go to him again. Wasn’t like I was going to make things any better at this point.

Frowning, I reached into my pocket and drew out the lighter, tossing it the distance for the male to light up and take a deep inhale.

“Did you rip open your wounds?” I managed curtly, glancing down at my wrist and putting a little more energy into healing the bite marks there.

Vishous: *I finished my smoke and immediately lit up another.* Nah im tight. * My head stopped trickling blood and I hadn’t thrown up so no concussion. Yipee. Though passing out again would be welcome. The angel kept an eye on me from afar and as soon as dusk hit I stood up and dragged my ass to the door, calling back to the angel.* You driving? Head injury and all. * His blood high was mostly out of my system but fuck did I want to ride that high again. Me being me. Nope. Not happening. In the car I was too close to the angel. Maybe If I opened the door and just let myself out while he was going 90 on the freeway.*

Lassiter:

Saying nothing, I strode past the male. Thankfully there was already a vehicle in this storage unit, because the one we’d rocked up in was riddled with bullet holes. A doggen could definitely deal with ‘that’ later. Sliding into the drivers side, I jammed the key into the ignition a little harder than necessary. I almost bent the key as I turned it, the engine purring to life as Vishous got in and shut the door.

Beelining it out onto the road, I ignored ninety percent of the road rules, not to mention speed limits, and accelerated back toward the compound. The less time I spent with V in the car? The better. The last thing I needed was the fucker going postal on me again. Not after I’d worked so damn hard to save his goateed life.

“I hope Jane kicks your dumbass,” I mutter, gripping the steering wheel a little tighter, knuckles white.

#Complicated #Part2

#BondedBrothersAU

[vaxreed]

Hankvin Day 7: Free Day

Angst/Previous Relationship || 

Summary: Things used to be so good between them. Tender touches and soft caresses with cute banter and smiles they only meant for each other. Now every time they talked to one another it was like talking to a stranger they hated and neither could ignore the hollow ache in their chest. 

Gavin had been pulling long ass shifts for as long as he could remember. At first, it was just to prove himself and make a name for himself as a dedicated detective. But now it was because he couldn’t sleep. He lived off break room coffee, cigarettes and occasional protein bar. He only went home to feed his cats and provide them with some company. Then it was back to the station or to whatever crime scene had just been called in. He was running on fumes, but he couldn’t stop.

“Reed, you better stop with this running yourself ragged shit or you’re gonna drop dead in the middle of the station.” A firm, but concerned voice came from Hank, who had followed him outside.

Gavin turned his head to the source of the voice, cigarette kept in place between his two fingers, moving it to his lips and taking a drag letting the thick smoke fill up his lungs his shoulders relaxing.

“You’ll be the first one to celebrate once I do. Follow your own advice first, Anderson. Don’t act like I haven’t seen you pulling double shifts and then get piss drunk when you go home. Fuck off.” His eyes flicking over back again once he had dismissed the older man.

“Gavin…” in a tone Gavin hadn’t heard since he first started here.

“No! You don’t get to pull that shit with me. You’ve lost your right to.” His eyes flame up, and then are full of hurt, Hank just takes it, and looks at him with guilt.

“Yeah, I know. Just… take care of yourself.” Swallowing hard. Eyes lingering on the younger man before leaving to get back inside.

He remembered when those eyes used to stare at him in love and fondness but now, on the days he’s sober, all he sees is pain and regret. Gavin took another long drag before heading inside with a scoff. It was all in the past now. No point dwelling on it.

-----

Even during his beat cop days Gavin had heard stories about Hank Anderson. He was the youngest person in Detroit Police Department history to earn the title Lieutenant. From the stories he had developed a bit of a crush on the man. He remembers the first time seeing him. Someone had called in a crime and he was the first responder there. Detective Anderson was there, twinkle of something challenging in his eye, jawline strong, his shoulders broad. Tina caught him staring and nudged him on the side.

“Go talk to him, asshole. You were the first one here. Catch him up to speed.” She urged.

Gavin felt his mouth go dry, and his hands clam up. He would actually be able to talk to the man himself. He took a deep breath and went over to him.

“Lieutenant Anderson you made it.” He tried to sound as cool as possible, lowering his voice a pitch.

“You’re the one who called it in?” He raised an eyebrow at him, those brilliant blue eyes standing out even in the dark of the night. Gavin tried to keep his knees from buckling. The man was a legend and he could tell he was already analyzing him. Gavin’s young soft features and scar across the bridge of his nose that seemed out of place, fresh out of the academy and just eager to prove himself.

“Yes, sir.” He replied straightening himself out (as much as his gay ass possibly could).

Hank let out a dry chuckle, amused at Gavin calling him that.

“Well, lay it on me newbie. Let’s see what we got.” His eyes roaming over the gruesome crime scene. There was a certain sick excitement that Gavin understood wanting to piece information together to get the end result.

“I got a call about shouting in the street and came to check it out. Looked like a drug deal gone bad.”

“That was my first guess too.” Hank nodded, hanging onto Gavin’s every word.

“Doesn’t seem like it was an addict that did it. I think it was someone else.”

Hank’s eyes flicked over to Gavin in curiosity. “What makes you say that?” interested.

“The drugs are still there. If it was an addict, they would have taken off with it.” He said confidently.

“Thinking about bein’ a detective, kid?” sizing him up once again, only in much greater detail. God he was so hot, Gavin felt like he was about short circuit.

“Sure am.”

“Well, you’re on a good path. I’m sure I’ll see you soon.” Flashing a grin, wink, and clapping a hand on his shoulder before brushing past him to make his way closer towards the crime scene. Gavin was so thankful it was dark out because the red that burned on his cheeks would have definitely been noticeable.

He looked over at Tina who was making crude sexual hand gestures. Gavin flipped her off and his eyes roamed back over to Hank. The Lieutenant caught Gavin staring and offered him another wink before going back to examining the crime scene.

 -----

“I don’t need you or your plastic pet fucking up my crime scene.” An extra bite of bitterness danced on his tongue as he tried to keep them from passing the police tape that blocked off the area.

“Listen, we just came here to help, Reed.” Hank tried to argue.

Neither of them knew when it got this bad between the two of them. Connor looked at both with indifference but both of them knew this was a level of hostility both have become far too familiar with.

“I don’t need your help, Anderson.” Acid on his tongue.

They refused to say each other’s first names because it would just remind themselves of how sweet it used to taster on their tongues.

“Well, lucky me. I don’t need your permission.” Hank merely shrugged.

Gavin scowled at him his shoulders tensing but knew since Hank was his superior, he couldn’t do anything about it. He stepped aside, averting his eyes trying desperately to find something more interesting than Hank’s blue eyes.

----

A ray of sunshine beat again his eyelids as he let out a moan of discomfort. The he woke up to the smell of Hank’s earthy and spicy scent wanting so badly to bottle it up, so he could smell him whenever.  

“You not a morning person?” Hank’s voice rumbled from behind him, sounding like he had been awake for quite awhile .

“I just don’t like the sun beating into my retinas, asswipe.” Sleepiness still clinging to his words.

Hank let out an amused chuckle wrapped his arms around Gavin’s naked waist, his large calloused hands resting on his hips. Gavin turned around to face the other man in his bed. He peered into Hank’s kind and warm pools of blue getting lost in them. 

“What’s funny, asshole?” he playfully challenged.

“Are you usually this scrappy in the morning?” a smile cracking onto Hank’s face.  

“I’ve still got a lot of energy from last night.” He purred, a glint of mischievousness in his eyes as he traced a finger on the curls on Hank’s chest.

“I’m sure we can find something to work that energy off.” He replied before pulling him into a kiss. Gavin melted into the kiss and let out a pleased sigh.

“Be gentle with me it’s my first time.” feigning innocence once he broke the kiss.

Hank threw his head back and laughed before rolling over on top of Gavin, the younger man wrapping his arms around the Lieutenant’s neck and pulling him down to give a soft bite to his lower lip.

“We’re gonna be late.”

“Then you better think of a pretty good excuse.”

 ------

“I can’t let you do that! Leave it alone, now!” Connor voice pierced through the thick tension of the interrogation room as he pried Chris off the deviant android.

Gavin felt his blood boil, his own status felt like it was being threatened. His fingers itching and thrilled at the opportunity to pull his gun out and pointing it directly at the deviant hunter android.

“I warned you, motherfucker!” ready to pull the trigger at any moment with no regrets whatsoever.

Hank’s tone just done with all the fuckery in the room, a voice that Gavin has only really heard in their encounters in the bathroom stalls and in the back of Hank’s car. Gavin wanted to snarl at the audacity that Hank had in bringing that tone here thinking it would rein him in like some obedient bitch.

“Mind your own business, Hank.” Each word his bit out with gritted teeth as his hand gripped tightly around the gun. Looks like Hank found himself a new boy toy and Gavin was not pleased about it at all.

He heard the click before the Lieutenant said anything. Gavin not wanting to look. He knew damn well Hank wouldn’t pull a gun on him.

“I said that’s enough.” His voice laced with authority Gavin had forgotten Hank once carried.

The younger man looked over to see Hank’s handgun pointed directly at him. He felt his heart crack, but he wouldn’t let it show as his eyes flicked over back to look at the goofy looking deviant hunter.

“Fuck!” he muttered lowering his gun, he and Hank shared a look of defiance and hurt. Gavin left without another word as he angrily stormed out, slamming the door behind him.

------ 

“Hey handsome, you come here often?” Gavin waggled his eyebrow flirtatiously, his elbow rest on the counter in the break room, all adorned in his police uniform.

“I work here. What’s your angle? Trying to get details on the case I’m working on? Cuz you’ll have to try harder.” Hank looked over from pouring his coffee, setting his steaming mug onto the counter beside him.

Gavin’s mouth was pulled into a genuine smile, one that made Hank’s heart skip a beat. No one should ever be this charming.  

“I’ve got news.”

“Don’t tell me you’re pregnant.”

Gavin snorted. 

“Yeah, and Ben’s the father.”

Hank rolled his eyes and let a smile grace his lips at Gavin’s joke.

“Just…come over tonight and I’ll tell ya.”

“Sure. I get off in a few hours.”

 -----

The door that lead inside creaked open to reveal a less than happy Hank Anderson. 

“You’re pissed at me, I get that. But don’t take it out on Connor.”

“Sorry I was mean to your new sex toy but I’m just trying to get my job done.” Their arguments so plentiful at this point Reed can’t bring himself to act like he cared as he took a long drag of his cigarette.

Hank let out a sigh of frustration.

“Reed…” he started out. Gavin refused to look at him, focusing more on the sound of the rain clinking against the metal roofs of the cars.

“We can’t keep doing this.”

“I’m not doing anything, Anderson. I’m just trying to do my job. All you have to do is make sure you’re sober enough to do yours.”

Hank’s mouth twitched as his eyebrows knit together in a fowl annoyance.

“You better watch that mouth of yours.”

“You better get the fuck out of my way.”

“What is your problem with me? I know we didn’t end on the best of terms but…”

“But what? We could be friends? Drinking buddies? After everything, you must be joking, you old fuck.” His body yearning for another cigarette so he pulled on out and lit it. Hank gave him a look of disapproval but didn’t say anything because of his own habits and addiction.

“I would have waited.”

Gavin snapped his head over to Hank’s direction. His gaze challenging him to have the balls to say another word.

“You wanted to settle down, have a family with 2.5 kids and a white picket fence. That’s not me. Even if you did wait, which, how long was it before you had your dream life? 6 months? That’s all it took for you to forget about me.”

“I never fuckin’ forgot about you! You’re right! I wanted the life you couldn’t stand. Gavin, you were 24. Still had you whole life ahead of you. Your career. You left for Chicago and then came back 4 years later not expecting me to move on? You never called, hell, not even a text. Of-fucking-course I was gonna move on and settle down.”

Gavin was silent for a moment and blowing out smoke from his parted lips before slowly turning his head towards Hank.

“Yeah, and how’d that work out for you?”

------

“So, what was so important that you had to wait to tell me here?” Hank started as he sat at the kitchen table watching Gavin cook for the both of them. Hank got up and wrapped his arms around Gavin’s torso place a soft kiss at the back of his neck as the beat cop stirred whatever he was cooking in the pan.

“You’re so fuckin’ impatient.” He grinned, reveling at the feeling of Hank pressed against him.

“You bring out the worst in me.” He joked, giving his ear a nibble, causing the younger man to chuckle.

Setting the burner on low he turned around to face Hank, his smile still etched on his face.

“I got a promotion. You’re lookin’ at Detective Reed now.” His eyes shining with satisfaction but nervous sitting in the pit of his stomach awaiting to hear what Hank thought.

“No shit?” Hank asked.

“No shit.”

Hank’s face broke into an ecstatic beam as he lifted Gavin off the ground and spun him around. Gavin let out a surprised choke that melted into a laugh.

“You did it! I knew you’d fuckin do it!” his voice boomed throughout the apartment full of elation and eyes lit with pride.

Hank came to a stop and Gavin pulled him into a kiss, both smiling into it.  Setting Gavin on the kitchen counter the two continued to kiss until Gavin pulled away, his expression becoming more serious.

Hank’s smiled began to fade at seeing Gavin’s face.

“There somethin’ else?”

“They…offered me a job.”

“Where?”

“Chicago.”

-------- Gavin felt his head rattle as Hank pushed him against the wall with a growl, the man’s knuckles turning white from how hard he was gripping the lapels of his jacket.

“What the fuck did you say?” his voice dripping with anger.

The younger man’s gaze steeled.

“You wanted to run off and play family man. How the fuck did that work out for you?” Gavin bit back. Hank’s eyes whirled with pain, anger, and guilt. Gavin tried t hard not to feel bad but there was a deep ache in his chest. Hank looked heartbroken, his eyes glossy with unshed tears.

Gavin immediately regretted it, he felt Hank’s grip loosen.

“Hank, I…” with an uncharacteristic amount of gentleness in his voice and the man’s first name feeling strange on his tongue. When did he get this vindictive? When did he decide it was fine to hurt a man he still loves?

Hank saw the regret in his eyes, he leaned his head on the crook of his neck and let out a sputtered sob. Gavin stood still, shocked. He forgot what it felt like to have Hank pressed up against him like this. Nothing sexual, not like the anger fueled one night stands they’ve had. This was more vulnerable. Gavin felt his own vision blur with tears he didn’t know started leaking from his eyes.

Wrapping his arms around the taller man, he took in the familiar scent. He remembered when his pillows still smelled of him a few weeks after he moved to Chicago. He remembered how he would love the smell as it clung to his oversized shirts he wore around Hank’s apartment.

“I’m sorry, Hank. Shit…I’m so sorry for everything.” He tried to keep his voice from cracking. The pain he had held onto for so long. The pain both of them held onto poisoning their interaction with each person.

It would get better. Gavin swore he would start pulling his weight to fix this shit.

 -------

Hank had been getting better. He was watching his diet, hadn’t touched a drink in months, and was just generally slowly reverting back to his old self.

Gavin felt mixed emotions. He knew this was Connor’s work. He knew Hank smiled at the android with a smile that was once only reserved for Hank’s closest friends. He hadn’t looked at him like that in years. It added anther crack and wall over Reed’s heart. Hank was capable of healing…Gavin just wasn’t worth healing for. Connor was a breath of fresh air for Hank and endless pool of patience.

He could only watch from afar and Hank threw his head back and laughed at something Connor had said. Gavin’s stomach knotted as he noticed Hank looked years younger.

Hank caught him staring and the two locked eyes with one another. Gavin couldn’t look away. Hank simply gave him a soft smile before going back to look at his terminal.

The passing days have gone smoother. Gavin learning to let go of his anger and rage that boiled inside him. Therapy really helped. Some days were better than others but he was really just trying to get by. Things with Hank went from bad to civil. Even giving each other small waves and smiles when they.

They weren’t like before. They couldn’t be. Both healing in their own ways, their banter was now warm towards each other and they could sometimes see inklings of their younger selves in each other.

 ‘Dinner @ 8?’ a brilliant pink cat-shaped sticky note stuck to his computer in Hank’s handwriting. A smile curled onto Gavin’s face trying hard not to beam at the note in such a public place.

Things were getting better.

[palominopup]

A Destiel Short Story.

His right wrist was broken and his left eye was swollen shut. The stench of the garbage cans that lined the alley was not helping the nausea rolling over him from the knee to his balls. He’d picked the wrong guys to hustle. How could he have known the two college kids were on the football team and that half the offensive line was waiting to help their comrades? Dean could have held his own with three or maybe even four of them, but seven wasn’t a lucky number for him. Especially after the few shots of whiskey he’d downed before challenging them to a game of pool. Slowed his reflexes a bit.

“Cas, I know you’re still pissed at me, but I could use your help,” Dean murmured into the filthy concrete. God, he hurt.

The rustle of wings informed him that his angel had arrived. Dean’s one good eye focused on a pair of black dress shoes and the hem of Cas’ signature slacks. The angel’s customary salutation of ‘Hello, Dean’ was conspicuously absent. Dean used his good hand to press himself into an awkward pushup. He gathered his knees under him and swayed at the pain. He looked up. Cas’ face was a blur. A feeling of déjà vu hit him. A few years had passed, but the memory was vivid. He’d been in the same position. On his knees in front of Cas. “I need you,” he said, aiming for the brand of sarcastic humor that was his trademark.

“Don’t.” The word was so cold and so sharp, Dean actually winced and hung his head. He felt the warmth of Cas’ touch and the pain disappeared so fast, his body felt electrified. With both eyes functioning now, Dean looked up again. Cas wasn’t looking at him. And why would he? Dean had fucked up their friendship, just like he fucked up every other good thing that ever happened to him. The only difference is that this one hurt worse. This was an ache he’d carried inside of him since that night. Shit, was it only a month? Seemed like a lifetime.

“Cas, I…” But he was gone. Dean blinked. “Yeah, well, fuck you, Asshole.” Dean got to his feet and grimaced at the state of his clothes. He was gross.

The ride back to the bunker was made with music pounding so loud, Dean couldn’t think. Mission accomplished.

He thanked everything holy that Sam wasn’t awake. He turned on the shower and waited until steam billowed out before stepping under the hot spray. He stared down at his feet and watched the water swirl down the drain. Fuck him. He’d tried to apologize and Cas knew how hard that shit was for him to do. Motherfucker wouldn’t even acknowledge it.

Dean slapped the tiled walls with his hand. It stung. He’d fucked up and now, Cas couldn’t stand to be around him.

It had been a simple salt and burn. Cas had tagged along because…well, Dean didn’t know why, but he didn’t question it. He loved having Cas with him…uh…them. On the way back, Sam and the angel were discussing something intellectual and Dean had tuned them out. They’d stopped at a Gas & Sip to fill up and grab a couple of sodas and that’s when it happened. The clerk was flirting with Cas. It was fucking obnoxious. Then Cas smiled at him…the smile usually reserved for Dean. The words spewed out of his mouth. He’d called the guy a faggot and a few other choice things and threatened to beat the shit out of him. Sam and Cas were both staring at him like he was a fucking creature from outer space. Cas slammed out of the store, Sam was busy apologizing for Dean and Dean stormed out after Cas.

He caught up with him midway between the first row of gas pumps and the Impala. He’d grabbed the angel’s arm and Cas had rounded on him. “Don’t touch me.”

“Come on, Cas…that guy was…”

“A faggot…yes, I got that. I had no idea you were that intolerant.”

“I’m not intolerant. Jesus, Cas, he was…”

“He was attracted to me, Dean. And maybe I was attracted to him too. Guess that makes me a faggot too.”

Too stunned to speak, Dean stood in the flickering fluorescent glow from the station’s lights. Cas must have taken his silence as agreement, because he got this look on his face and disappeared. Just fuckin’ disappeared.

“What the hell was that all about, Dean? The guy in there thinks you’re a homophobic asshole. Where’s Cas?”

Dean didn’t bother answering. He got into the car and slammed the door. A full minute later, he knew because he was counting the seconds, Sam opened the passenger side and folded his long frame into the seat. “Where’s Cas?” He repeated softly.

“Gone.” He’d gotten a serious bitchface for the obvious answer. He thought he heard a muttered ‘Stupid bastard’, but he couldn’t be sure because he’d cranked up the volume and Back in Black boomed out of the speakers.

Dean, in his infinite wisdom, decided to let Cas cool off a few days. Sam wasn’t speaking to him and that was fine. When a week came and went without a word from the angel, Dean finally had enough. He locked his bedroom door and sat on the bed. “Cas, hey, can we talk?”

Nothing.

“I know you can hear me. I’m sorry…alright?”

The radio silence went on for days. Sam kept giving him pitying looks that drove Dean to drink. And drink he did. It was supposed to keep him from thinking. It didn’t.

Cas was his. He wasn’t supposed to be attracted to anyone else. Not that Dean wanted…that. Because he didn’t. They were just friends.

Everyone has a breaking point and Sam’s came a month after the ‘incident’. He cornered Dean in his room, blocking his escape with his Sasquatch body. “Cas deserves to find someone, Dean.”

“Yeah, well, guess he’s off doing that, huh? He sure as hell hasn’t been around here lately.” Dean’s fists were clinched at his side and he felt his nails biting into the flesh of his palms.

“Oh…wow…you’re…you were jealous.”

Dean managed a bark of laughter. “Jealous? Yeah, right.” Only he had been. He’d seen Cas’ smile directed at someone else and he’d gotten so damn angry.

“Cas has loved you for…for fucking ever, Dean. And you give him nothing in return. Is it so hard for you to believe he would try to move on? Maybe find someone who would return his feelings?”

“Shut the fuck up, Sam. Just shut up,” Dean snarled and shoved Sam out of the way. And that’s how he found himself just this side of drunk and hustling boys a hell of a lot bigger than him.

Cas might have loved him. He’d proved it enough times over the years. Dean just didn’t want to see it. John Winchester would roll over in his proverbial grave if he know Dean had those kinds of thoughts about a man. Yes, Cas might have loved him, but he sure as hell didn’t now.

Dean shut the water off and grabbed a towel. He quickly dried off and wrapped it around his waist. In his haste to get clean, he’d forgotten to bring his robe or even a pair of underwear with him. On the way to his room, he paused at the door to Cas’ room. He’d cleaned out the room himself, adding a couple of cheap particle-board bookcases from Walmart. He’d even picked up a blue bedspread. It had meant a lot to Cas…having his own room…knowing he had a home with them.

He pushed open the door and flipped the light switch. The bookcases were filled with books…mostly old, dusty tomes, but some paperbacks were shoved between them. Vonnegut, Cussler, even a Stephen King. Dean trailed a finger over the spines. There were other things on the selves. A jar of honey Dean had picked up at a roadside stand. A framed picture. How had Dean never seen it? He picked it up. The frame was cheap. The photo was of the two of them leaning on the Impala. It was the day they dropped Claire off at Jody’s place. Claire must have taken it. The breeze ruffled Cas’ hair and Dean was looking at him like he hung the moon. “Cas…please.” He bent his head and prayed for one more chance.

The air around him crackled with static and the smell of ozone filled his nostrils. Cas stared at the picture in Dean’s hands, but didn’t speak.

“Sam said you deserved someone to…to…return you feelings.” Cas’ expression remained stoic. Dean took a deep breath. “You know me, Cas. I’m not homophobic. Love is love, man.” The angel remained still as a statue except for a flicker of something in those beautiful, blue eyes. “I know it’s too late for me to…you know…but if you want…that gas station isn’t that far away. You could still see if…”

“This emotion I feel...it is confusing and unwanted,” Cas said softly. Dean didn’t realize how badly he missed hearing that deep, gravelly voice until that instant. “It was nice to have someone look at me and find something they…like. I…Claire said that I should try dating.” His use of the unfamiliar word would have been humorous if it hadn’t cut Dean to the bone. He’d talked to Claire. Why hadn’t he come to Dean? Oh, yeah, because Dean was the sorry motherfucker that Cas thought didn’t return his feelings. “I’ve heard songs say to find someone else if you can’t be with…the person you want.”

“If you can’t be with the one you love, love the one you’re with,” Dean quoted the old Crosby, Stills and Nash song. Cas reached out and took the picture from Dean. He looked down at it for a few moments before putting it back on the shelf.

“I value your friendship, Dean. I hope that my attraction towards the same sex doesn’t…”

“Damn it, Cas. Don’t you dare bump me into the friend zone…not now. Not when I’ve finally got my head out of my ass.” Dean raked his hands through his hair and realized he was still wearing just a towel. Not the ideal attire for a serious conversation. “You want to know the truth about that night in the Gas & Sip? I was jealous. Okay? The way he was flirting with you and you…you smiled at him. You gave him the smile that somehow manages to turn me on every fuckin’ time you do it. And the thought of you and him…” Dean thought back to that moment. How it felt like something inside him was clawing its way out. “Fuck…” Dean pinched the bridge of his nose. “I have only said these words to two people in my entire life. My mom and Sam.” Dean took a deep breath and closed his eyes. “I love you, Cas.”

“Dean…” Dean held up his hands, keeping his eyes tightly shut. He didn’t want to see Cas’ face when he said it was too late for his declaration.

“No…it’s cool. I get that you need to move on…spread your wings.” Dean laughed and noted the touch of hysteria in the sound. “Sorry, bad pun.” He felt Cas’ fingertips on his lips and he opened startled eyes. Somehow, Cas had closed the distance between them. Their eyes met and held.

“I have loved you a long time, Dean. At first, I could not identify what I was feeling. When I finally understood, I didn’t think it could ever be reciprocated. You liked only women.”

“About that…” Dean started, his skin heating. “I’ve had thoughts about men…I mean, before you came strutting in that barn like a bad-assed motherfucker…” The memory flashed through Dean’s mind and he remembered how damn hot Cas looked. “Back when I was younger, but Dad…Dad would have beaten the shit out of me. Hell, he’d probably sent me to one of those camps where they electrocute you until you promise to only have sexy thoughts about the opposite sex forever and ever, amen. I’ve done a lot of window shopping, Cas, but I’ve never strolled into the shop and wanted to buy something.”

Cas was blinking at him in obvious confusion. Maybe the shop analogy wasn’t the best way to explain his latent bisexual urges. “I don’t understand that…”

“Reference,” Dean finished for him and giggled. He hadn’t heard Cas complain about not understanding something ever since Metatron installed eons of pop culture in Cas’ brain. “I’m just trying to tell you that I haven’t ever…had…sex…with a dude, but I’d love to practice…you know…until I get it right.”

And there it was. That smile. The soft curve of his upper lip, slightly higher on the right side, making it a bit lopsided. “I believe we can practice together, Dean.”

“Cool. Yeah, uhm.” Dean’s palms were suddenly sweaty. He hoped Cas didn’t want to practice now, because Dean was scared shitless. He would like to kiss those lips…but first… “Cas, would you like to go out to dinner with me tomorrow night.”

Cas’ brow furrowed. “A date, Cas. I’m asking you on a date.”

“A date,” Cas repeated and the soft smile morphed into a grin. “Yes, I’d like that, Dean.”

“Great…well, I’ll just…I’ll see you tomorrow. ‘Night, Cas.” Dean moved around Cas and stopped at the doorway.

“Goodnight, Dean.” He made it to his room and managed to shut the door before the fist pump and the odd dance that made the towel fall to the floor.

He had a date…with Cas…with the man he was madly, crazy stupid in love with. Sam was going to freak. Dean frowned. Probably not. Sam would just roll his eyes and say ‘about time’. Dean crashed onto his bed and grinned. Yep, about time.