Disclaimer: I don’t own any of these characters.
Summary: The council sent Xander and Dean on a mission. On the way back and feelings emerged, a kiss took place but what happens next? A/U the Winchester’s are hunting, but they have a home base at an apartment the Watcher’s Council set up for them in Cleveland with Andrew and Xander. The Winchester Boys help train new slayers. Takes place after YED dies and Buffy and gang got Dean out of the deal. Ding Dong Lilith’s Dead too.
A Kiss After the first kiss, where are you go from there, thought Xander.
Dean and Xander were on the highway back to Cleveland, Dean’s mourning Jo's passing. They driven silently watching the leaves turn golden and red.
Whenever Xander starts thinking about the kiss, he tries to dismiss it, to push it to the back of his brain with all the other memories he's picked up on the road with Dean. He knows that either Dean doesn’t remember; or doesn’t want to remember, or sometimes they're the same thing. Xander still remembers;
it's still there - the faint sweet taste of Dean's mouth, the weight of Dean's arms wrapped around his shoulders, locked in an embrace that had taken them what seemed like a lifetime to reach. And late at night when the mind starts replays the days events, Xander finds the memory of the kiss being laid out before his eyes so real he can almost taste it again.
On the road it's cheaper for one room than two, easy enough to collapse next to your friend and throw one sleepy arm over his waist. What happens now that they're back at Watcher Head Quarters in the apartment Sam Andrew Dean and Xander rent? Xander’s room is next to Dean’s; when the Winchester brother's are aren’t on the road. Sometimes he can hear Dean breathing through the walls, or fucking around with Faith.
I wish it were me touching and breathing in the smell of sweat from Dean’s hair, his rough callous hands on me, and the soft curve of his lips as he leans in to kiss me again. ”Xander,” Dean calls.
He's standing in the doorway of Xander's room, the pale morning sun streaming in behind him, until his faded white T-shirt merges with the edges of the sunlight, making him look faded. He's got a beer in one hand, though it's barely pushing eleven, and a handful of papers in the other.
No doubt our latest assignments. Xander thought quietly.
”Xander?” Dean says his name again. " Xander, You okay man?"
Xander blinks at him. He can't tell Dean what he has been dreaming about. There's something about the hard set to his jaw that says, he's pissed about something - it's there in the way his strong, capable fingers curl around the neck of the bottle, the way he leans against the doorframe and squints into the room with barely-disguised irritation.
"What?" Xander mumbled groggily.
”The power's off,”Dean says flatly, and flips the light switch.
Nothing happens, “We'd better check the fuse box or get the bill paid, then SAM and Andrew probably for forgot too.”
Dean shrugs. Sure. Dean takes a few steps inside the room, and turns his head sideways to look at the new poem on the wall. Xander blushed, it was just a head's height above the bed.
He can see the expression on Dean's face changing.
So sweet like honey brown and blood red lips, and arms were never so needed, strong he can give me strength -'
Touch.'
Need.' Xander could see the obscurity fall over Dean's face - blank, reserved, shut ,i>off (like the electricity) - as he turns around. We should get going watcher meeting, he says flatly, and walks out, leaving the half-finished bottle on the pile of clothes by the bed.
Xander pulled his fingers through his hair, looking up at his words.
What made him write this poem, his memories, his feeling, when they'd be better off buried six feet deep.
”Fuck”, he says softly.
Author’s Note: This is my first ficlet like this. Let me know what you think? Maybe it will be more.
