Jun 17, 2023
I don't ship Destiel, Drowstiel or Drowley but tagging it as this anyway because of the dialogue
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I don't ship Destiel, Drowstiel or Drowley but tagging it as this anyway because of the dialogue
When I Kissed The Teacher
Drowley AU fluff. Teacher!Drowley. Enjoy!
The thing is, Dean knows very well that this is a horrible, not good, very bad idea but finds himself acting on it anyway –
In other words, Dean came in to talk to his niece’s teacher because her parents didn’t have the time and is now busy… kissing said teacher.
Oops.
It’s not his fault that he has a thing for bad boys in suits, alright? And if only half of the stories Rosie has told them about Mr. Crowley are true, then he is the definition of a bad boy. Well, or at least not the nicest guy.
And so here he is, kissing the teacher who is apparently, at least according to Rosie, the worst.
Well, at least their talk went well until he decided to throw caution out of the window.
Or maybe he should say that he just lost his mind but man, Crowley – Just Crowley, Mr. Winchester, please – is a really really good kisser.
When they pull back, they stare at one another for a moment, then Crowley clears his throat. “You are aware that this will not make me treat your niece any differently, right? She is very capable, and I don’t see why I should tolerate her being lazy –“
And the fact that the first thing he says is talking about his niece should be enough reason to prove that this was indeed a very very bad idea, and Dean should probably apologize and leave and hope that Rosie won’t suffer any consequences –
So naturally they end up having dinner.
And then everything becomes a game of hide and seek. Mostly because Sam and Sarah have heard enough bad stories about Crowley that they would immediately be convinced that dating him is a terrible thing for Dean when – well –
Thing is, over the next few months, this proves to be the best relationship Dean has ever been in. Sure, they have their fights and their hang-ups and he’s pretty sure Crowley has never been with anyone exclusively in his life, but still…
Somehow, they work. He doesn’t know how or why, but still, they work.
Although the stories Rosie tells at the dinner table have now become more cringeworthy than amusing. Mostly because Dean knows that Crowley has a sweet side now, even a caring one, but often chooses not to show it.
And then… things change.
Not because Crowley becomes any less demanding when it comes to his students. But he now bothers to explain why he wants certain things done in a certain way, and it’s working – Rosie certainly understands him better now, and even her grades are improving.
Dean doesn’t know whether he should broach the subject or not – if he is the reason for that, he doesn’t want to be certain of it, if he’s being honest. Because if he were, that would be cheating, in a way, and he’s never been a cheater. Oh, hustling some douchebag in a bar, sure. But not the other students in Rosie’s class, who don’t happen to have a hot uncle who caught the eye of their teacher.
To his surprise, Crowley himself starts talking about his niece at dinner that night (and who would have guessed he’d be such a good cook? And don’t get Dean started on his pecan pie).
“You know, Rosie’s really been applying herself these past few months” he says, “I am starting to think she might even be cleverer than I originally assumed –“
“Yeah, she mentioned you explained stuff better, now” Dean replies casually.
Crowley blinks. “I assure you, I have neither changed my methods nor have I adjusted my opinions in regards to me students.”
Only that’s not quite true, Dean decides. Crowley has changed. For one, he smiles a lot more these days than he did when they began dating – always a bewitching sight, not that Dean has told him that – and then there are other small things. For example, yesterday Dean got him into jeans – and then, in rapid succession, out of them, but that is not the point. He’s also slowly making progress in trying to reconcile Crowley with his son Gavin. He’s a good boy, if a bit angry because of certain fights during his puberty (and no, it doesn’t matter one bit that the “boy” is only a little older than Dean. He’s taking his “Oh looks like this is serious guess I am about to be a”-stepdad responsibilities seriously).
It’s then and there that he makes a decision.
First of all, he drags Crowley into a kiss that leads to even more pleasurable activities.
But that’s not the decision he was just thinking of.
Instead, when he arrives a little early for the next family dinner, he asks innocently, “You don’t have anything against me bring a guest, do you?”
Sam and Sarah, who are always eager for him to “find someone” immediately agree and Rosie has just started quizzing him about his new partner when the doorbell rings.
He smiles. “I think it’s safe to say that this will be a bit of a surprise.”
Sigh No More
I couldn’t help myself. Drowley Much Ado About Nothing Au. Enjoy!
“Dean! Dean! Great news!“
Dean closed his book and laid it aside. When his cousin stormed in like that, there was no chance of continuing his reading. “What is it, Charlie?”
“Oskar’s revolt has been struck down! And there were barely any casualties at all!”
While he did love Charlie dearly, he knew her too well to assume the glow on her cheeks came from the joy of so many lives being spared. “And I strongly assume a certain young noblewoman distinguished herself in battle?”
She blushed even more fiercely. “I don’t know what you are talking about.”
“Oh I bet” he muttered. Then, another thought struck him. “Oh God, he is going to be insufferable.”
Charlie raised an eyebrow. “Now I am sure I have no idea –“
“You know exactly who I mean – I thought the revolt might take him down a peg, but there’s no chance of that now.”
King Crowley would be ebulliently proud now that everything had blown over.
She huffed. “You know, you could at least show him some respect –“
Dean stared at her.
“Or” she added “You could be honest as to what you think of him.”
“I am very honest, in fact I tell him at every opportunity.”
“Right. And that’s why he keeps visiting us.”
Dean shrugged. “Your mother is an important noblewoman.”
“Why does he only ever show up when you are visiting us, too, then?”
“Our King enjoys annoying me as much as I do him, that is all.”
To his surprise, Charlie shook her head at him and muttered something under her breath. “Anyway, they’re coming. Mother just received the message. So come up, time to make yourself all pretty for your brooding crush.”
“I don’t have a brooding crush, thank you very much.”
As a matter of fact, Dean didn’t plan on getting married at all – not that it mattered in the context of this conversation. He had yet to find someone who fulfilled every expectation he felt was necessary to be met if he wanted to end up happy; after all, they had to be good looking, clever, kind, and have a great sense of humour as well.
The closest anyone had ever come to meet all his criteria had admittedly been when he had first been introduced to King Crowley when he was eighteen years old, but he had soon learned that he was a pompous bastard. Although he did enjoy their verbal sparrings.
And so now he was coming here, still all high and mighty from his recent triumph. Dean smiled. This should be fun.
He turned to his closet and went through his shirts. He might as well look his best.
“Mother” Charlie declared, entering her room, “I cannot take this anymore!”
“She’ll be here soon” her mother smiled.
She once again blushed fiercely and answered, “I didn’t mean – I – “She cleared her throat and decided not to finish the sentence. “I mean Dean and Crowley.”
“And what do you think is going on between our king and Dean, pray?”
“Come on, you know” Charlie huffed rather impatiently. Everyone in their house knew. They knew, the servants knew, she was ready to bet even their neighbours knew.
King Crowley visited the Bradburys more often than he did any other of his subjects, and then he spent his time mostly bickering with Dean.
Why he hadn’t proposed to him years ago was a mystery to her. Surely, he didn’t need to wait for either of them to get older?
Thankfully her mother gave up her pretence of ignorance. “They are both adults, Charlie. We can hardly force them to –“
“But it’s so obvious! Remember the last time they were both visiting, and you gave a ball? Dean was the only one he danced with! More or less the whole night!”
“If I remember correctly, he claimed it was because he had to make sure he wouldn’t step on any of his other partner’s feet.”
“Dean is an excellent dancer.”
“Charlie” her mother said sternly, “I have the feeling that you are planning something, and I for one do not care for any intrigues…”
“But Mum, I just want him to be happy!”
Charlie had always been very fond of her cousin. Really, Dean was more of an older brother to her. And she wished for nothing more than him being blissfully happy.
Well, perhaps for one thing, she thought, blushing again, but that was not the point.
Her mother seemed to have guessed what she was thinking, for she was smiling once more. “Well, well, let’s wait and see what happens. After all, the king returns a war hero this time. Not even Dean can be unimpressed by that.”
Only he could very well be, Charlie thought. Despite having decided against becoming a soldier, Dean could wield a sword well indeed.
She knew that because she’d more than once fought against him. He’d taught her all he knew.
Still, as she left her mother, she was more determined than ever to make sure that Dean should finally see what had been right in front of him all this time – and that he would soon be as happily married as she herself hoped to be, especially if –
She giggled and skipped to her room to pick out her best clothes.
Dean studied himself in the mirror. Yes, still handsome, even though he was slowly approaching his fortieth birthday.
He had decided against marrying early on, and so far he had fared well. He divided his time between Sam’s and Eileen’s estate and his aunt’s; he helped out where he could, gave the poor, taught the children, made sure everything ran smoothly wherever he went.
Yes, Dean Winchester had done well for himself.
Well, then. Onwards to turn the heads of a few of the young soldiers, he thought with a satisfied smile.
By the time he made it to the hall, the entire household was there. He walked up to Charlie and her mother. “Aunt.”
“Dean. You look even better than usual.”
He shrugged. “I thought it best to make myself presentable.”
“Liar” Charlie muttered so quietly that only he could hear and he sent her a mock-glare.
“How long does his Royal Highness expect us to just stand there and wait for him?”
“Dean” his aunt gently admonished him, although there was no real anger behind it. She knew him too well for that. “It is an honour to have the king visit us.”
“And have his soldiers eat up our foot and chase our servants” he pointed out. “Plus, you know, having to cope with his ego –“
A fanfare announced the arrival of the royal entourage and made him fall silent.
The soldiers marched in, the King at the helm, his son and heir Gavin right behind him; his brother, who, according to Charlie, had been forgiven by Crowley, came right after.
Her aunt greeted the king with her usual deference and enthusiasm, and he nodded at her, looking even more pleased with himself than he usually did.
His eyes landed on Dean. “Lord Winchester.”
“Your Highness.” He was aware that, as usual, he was tattering on the line of insolence while speaking to his sovereign, but Crowley had yet to mind.
“Still chasing away all the potential suitors in the country?”
“Chase would imply that I eventually plan to get caught, or catch one myself, and I assure you that is not going to happen” he answered lightly.
“So you think you could catch someone if you tried to? Because it may not be as easy as you think.”
“Oh your Majesty, if you with all of your experience tell me so, then I have to believe it.”
They looked at one another in silence for a moment.
Aunt Gertrude cleared her throat.
Gavin stepped up, grinning. “Hey, Dean! I missed you.”
“Hello, Gavin” he said. He’d long ago asked him to use his first name when speaking to him, and he’d never looked back.
“Oh, so you didn’t miss me too?”
“I didn’t say that” he flirted back. They both knew they were not seriously interested in one another, and it was fun.
“Yes” Crowley drawled and Dean was surprised to hear that he sounded rather haughty all of a sudden – and not his usual kind of haughty, when he wanted to rile him up. “My lady Bradbury, would you lead the way?”
His aunt did so, while Dean observed the looks Charlie and Gilda were sharing.
He’d been right. There was definitely something going on.
Once Gilda was done following lady Bradbury’s daughter with her eyes and actually moved, she quietly said “You were right.”
Gavin grinned at her. “Told her.”
As a matter of fact, he hadn’t just told Gilda about his father’s and Dean’s obvious interest in one another; he had asked her to help him.
Because this time, he was going to do something about it. He didn’t quite know what yet; but something. He was going to make sure they finally noticed.
He had been living with them flirting for years now, had actually seen his father decide more than once than they were going to spend a few days at lady Bradbury’s because he had learned that Lord Winchester was visiting them.
Really, it was ridiculous that he had not proposed to him yet.
And he was rather sure everyone around them agreed.
“Alright, Charlie, seems like everything’s going your way” Dean observed as he watched her all but skip around as they walked to lunch.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Please; Gilda could scarcely take her eyes off you. I would say someone is about to be courted.”
In truth, it made him a little sad; not the thought that Charlie was going to be married, but that she was going to move to Gilda’s estate – and the court, since Gilda was part of Crowley’s entourage.
She seemed to think the same because he suddenly burst out “You have to give us at least half of your time. I insist on it” then blushed fiercely.
“So you don’t know what I was talking about? Interesting. Who should I give half of my time then?”
She punched his arm before checking whether or not her mother could see her. “Alright, Winchester, so I think she might be interested, and I definitely am.”
“You think?” he snorted. “If you still thought she wasn’t, I would be worried.”
“While we’re talking about people being interested in other people… What was that look your shared with our sovereign just now?”
“Now I truly have no idea what you are talking about.” It wasn’t his fault that Crowley happened to have very nice eyes, and yes, Dean now and then found himself staring. He appreciated his good looks, that was all.
“Then why do you think he was jealous when you greeted Gavin?”
“Have you lost your mind?” Even if King Crowley should choose to marry, he would certainly not pick a minor noble man like Dean.
As always, the thought made him feel uneasy, so he decided not to pursue it.
Charlie thankfully stayed silent.
As always when the king showed up, Aunt Gertrude had named sure that the food was even better than usual. Dean happily took his favourite dishes and started eating.
He was sitting next to Gavin on the one side and Charlie on the other; but since she was preoccupied with Gilda, he mostly talked to him.
He was filling him in one everything that had happened during the revolt. Dean himself had never been tempted to become a soldier, despite his father having eventually served as a general and having wished him to.
The country needed administrators too, not just fighters. He was quite satisfied with running their estate and looking after their tenants, as well as helping out anyone who asked – aunt Gertrude often asked his opinion – and to take a spot on king Crowley’s council when he sent for him; and of course Sammy had chosen to become a lawyer.
And listening to the details of the battle, he had no regrets.
“You should have seen them flee in the end” Gavin said with that smirk he had inherited from his father that should not have been so attractive.
Really, they had far more in common than they thought. Dean usually teased Crowley with it whenever he got the chance.
“What are you thinking of?” Gavin suddenly asked and he looked at him, realizing he’d been gathering wool.
“Oh, nothing.”
“You really must like nothing if that smile is anything to go by” he pointed out only to then abruptly add, “Why did you never get married?”
Dean shrugged. “Never met the right person, I suppose. Plus, Sam has children; there is no need for me to insure the family legacy goes on.”
Gavin muttered something that sounded suspiciously like “I didn’t say anything about it having to be a woman” and Dena leaned closer to see if he would repeat, but he didn’t.
Instead, the king suddenly called out, “What are you talking about, Lord Winchester? You seem riveted.”
He raised an eyebrow. “I hardly think I am obligated to reveal the contents of private conversations, even to my king.”
“And here I thought you were a loyal subject.”
“Oh, I am loyal as far as a man of honour can be expected to be” he grinned, hoping he would take the bait. He did.
“Oh, so this is how you would describe yourself?”
“If you have any doubts, your Highness, may I suggest the old saying it takes one to know one?”
Oskar was watching them carefully, Dean could tell even without turning his head. He’d never liked the king’s brother much – in fact he would have called him the only member of the royal family he’d never really gotten along with.
“I could have you punished for such indolence, you know” Crowley replied.
“And what would that entail, your Highness?”
Someone is sniggering next to him; he was rather sure it was Gavin.
“Wouldn’t you like to know” he said.
Dean could have made a quip about how he wasn’t too worried since Crowley seemed inclined to pardon criminals lately, but it was still too soon, and then, Oskar was family, and Dean knew well enough what it meant to forgive family members.
Instead, he said, “I would think any just king would have to tell their subject what their punishment entailed…”
“And if you are not a man of honour, why should I be a just king?”
Gilda gently touched Charlie’s elbow. “I thought Gavin was exaggerating when he told me, but… do they even realize they are not alone in the room?”
“Trust me, that’s not even the worst yet. Wait and see.”
But Charlie herself had no desire to wait any longer.
She caught Gavin’s eyes. She quite liked the heir to the throne, and the open amusement in his eyes made her like him even more.
She raised her eyebrows and almost imperceptibly nodded towards Dean and the king, who were still oblivious to anything going on around them while bickering.
At this moment, she was asking a question, and they both knew it. Gavin hadn’t inherited his father’s brains for nothing.
He looked at her, then threw them another glance. He then nodded.
“Alright, Lady Bradbury” Gavin announced soon after lunch, strolling up to her and Gilda. “What’s the plan?”
“It’s still in the works, but we are on the same page? It’s getting ridiculous!”
“You can say that again. I have only watched them for half a day, and I can’t stand it anymore. Crowley should have proposed years ago.” Gilda shot Gavin a look. “I’m sorry Prince, I didn’t mean to disrespect the memory of your –“
But he waved her concerns away. “It was years ago, and I am very aware that my parents’ marriage was a political match. There was no love lost there.”
“In stark contrast to him and Dean, you mean?” Gilda smirked. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone bickering so passionately.”
“Oh, I could show you –“
Gavin cleared his throat. “So, how can we possibly make them see sense?”
“Oh, you know, I think I have an idea” Charlie said slowly. “I don’t believe Dean considers the possibility that King Crowley really has feelings for him.”
“And Father doesn’t consider anyone capable of loving him” Gavin added.
“Great” Gilda sighed. “This doesn’t help us at all.”
“Maybe it does” Charlie said, staring into the distance. “Maybe it does.”
“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Charlie.”
“Come on, Mom!” she whined. “Don’t you want to help Dean to a good husband and our country to a wonderful king?”
Her mother sighed. “It’s not that I have never suspected that they may be…”
“Anyone with eyes and ears can’t fail to notice! Mom, please, my fiancée –“
It was then that she interrupted with, “Your fiancée!?”
In the ensuing commotion, it was easy to obtain her promise to help.
Sadly, they had forgotten about something. Or rather, not forgotten; they were simply too used to dealing with servants to pay much attention to those who were busy around them.
Which is how Arthur Ketch could report to his master twenty minutes later.
Oskar was rather miserable, and if you asked him, he had every right to eb. He’d be so close to get the throne their mother, he was sure, would have preferred to go to him; but no, his generals had been idiots, and now he had been forced to beg his brother’s forgiveness.
And how smug he’d looked when he’d done it, too. He would never forgive him for that. Well, that and being born first.
“Ah, Arthur” he said. “And? Anything?”
As soon as they had arrived, he had instructed his servants to keep an ear out for anything that he could use to cause mischief; or at least make his brother miserable.
Granted, he already had a rather good idea how to do that, but maybe he shouldn’t immediately jump to the most extreme measures…
Still, to do away with Dean Winchester was something he had contemplated doing. It was not difficult to see what his brother felt for the younger man.
“Milord” Ketch said with a bow, “There is a marriage in the works between the ladies Bradbury and Fae.”
As if losing hadn’t been bad enough, now he would have to sit through a wedding. And if he wasn’t careful, probably more than one.
Still…
There might be something he could do with that.
Dean would have thought that after the exertions during the campaign, Crowley would have liked to rest, but no; his Highness wanted to play tennis, and he had to be his partner. Why he couldn’t ask Gavin when Dean had never liked tennis was beyond him.
Still – annoying Crowley was fun.
“I think” he said after he’d missed the ball, “You have some problems handling certain things, your Majesty…”
“Really? How amazing. Because I do assure you that my handling of balls has always been most accurate.”
Damn him. Dean couldn’t help but blush – he hoped that he would think it was the exercise.
Of course he had no such luck. “Have I embarrassed you, Lord Winchester?”
“The truly crude only ever embarrass themselves, my King.”
“Words of wisdom. I wouldn’t have expected them from one so young…”
Later, he would think that the king had sounded slightly wistful, but then, he quickly shot back, feeling rather put out because in the heat of the moment he thought he was belittling his intelligence, “We cannot all be old and wise, can we?”
He couldn’t read the look Crowley next bestowed on him. Was he… hurt? But surely that couldn’t be? Dean was not so dumb to fool himself into thinking that he was in any way important to the king.
Their game ended soon afterwards with Dean winning; Crowley uncharacteristically accepted defeat.
After they had all come to an agreement, the plan had been struck.
Everyone knew that King Crowley liked to be alone for a certain part of the day in order to relax. Granted, that never seemed to matter when Dean was around, but still.
Which meant he would probably take a stroll through the garden soon, intent on keeping to himself.
And so Charlie and Gilda lay in wait.
Crowley, as he well knew, had every reason to feel content on this fine day. Oskar had been subdued and had sworn loyalty to him – while he didn’t trust him, it was still something; he was once more visiting Lady Bradbury, which never failed to lift his spirits; it had been proven that most of his subjects were loyal to him –
And yet. And yet.
He had no idea why Dean’s – Lord Winchester’s – pointing out his age should disturb him. He had no illusions about still being young.
And after all, the elder Winchester had to be around forty. Didn’t he? Although God knew he didn’t look it, he thought somewhat morosely.
But he did love riling him up. To be honest, Crowley had never quite understood why, but it was usually fun, so he hadn’t –
He heard voices. Oh – the ladies Bradbury and Fae; he sighed. If there was one thing sure not to raise his mood, it was (as Dean had told him during their game) two freshly-engaged lovebirds whispering sweet nothings to each other.
Best make a turn and walk to another part of the garden.
And that was when he heard the words that made him stand still.
“There he is” Charlie whispered. “Come on, time to show of your acting skills.”
Gilda good-naturedly rolled her eyes with that playfulness that had first drawn her to her, then asked, her voice raised just a little to make it seem like she was surprised, “Your cousin Dean is in love with the king? You are absolutely sure?”
Yes, he was most definitely standing still, not moving a muscle. Crowley could only listen, his heart beating more wildly in his chest than it had when he had faced the rebels.
What did it mean? And more importantly: Was Gilda right, did –
“Oh, without a doubt. No one knows him better than me. You should see his face when the king name’s falls – when he’s not in the room, of course.”
“Is that everything?”
“Well – no – I mean – there’s –“
And much to his annoyance, she lowered her voice to a whisper. Even though he moved as close as he dared, he couldn’t hear.
What he did hear, though, was lady Fae’s reaction. “That bad?”
“Oh yes. Even worse, I’d say. And you can’t imagine how bad Sam got before Eileen said yes.”
“I would never have… he always seems so cheerful. I would never have suspected that he’s unhappily in love.”
First of all, why unhappily? There was no reason for Dean –
Wait –
What was he thinking?
“But why doesn’t he show him? I would never have dared approach you if I hadn’t been rather certain of the outcome” lady Fae continued.
“Well, I wanted you to know” Charlie said flirtatiously. “Dean, on the other hand – you know how humble he is. He would never dare hope that the king could even think of him that way, so he tries to hide it.”
Well, he was bloody well succeeding, thought Crowley. He himself had never had any trouble seducing anyone he wanted into his bed – both before and after his marriage; after all, he and his wife had always been open about the fact that they felt nothing for one another – so really, if Dean had only tried a little, he would have –
Would gave done what? Certainly, Lord Winchester was beautiful, and more than a little tempting; but somehow the thought of just bedding him didn’t feel right…
“But surely he could look for no better partner in life than Dean” lady Fae said.
“I know” lady Bradbury sighed. “Dean would make a great king.”
There, Crowley could only agree. Dean had certainly proven again and again that he was a capable leader and gave good advice on his council.
“But really, now that I think about it, I actually can’t believe I didn’t see it before. I mean, his focus is always on the king whenever he enters the room.”
“Don’t worry too much about it my love” lady Bradbury answered. “For what it’s worth I think he’d rather die than let anyone know.”
“Least of all the king” she said softly.
“Yes, so we have to be careful…”
And they moved away. Crowley was left to think about it all, his mind reeling.
“I think it went well” Charlie whispered. “I managed to get a glimpse of his face. Priceless.” A thought struck her and she grinned. “Let’s ask Mum to send Dean to get him for dinner.”
“You are an evil genius, my lady Bradbury.”
Crowley still couldn’t quite believe it. Granted, he could easily have dismissed the thought that Dean Winchester loved him… but why would Dean Winchester of all people fall for him? He had no illusions about what a bastard he was, and Dean, in comparison…
Dean. Beautiful. Intelligent. Generous. Friendly.
And apparently in love with him.
Crowley had once sworn to himself that he would never marry again after being forced into a loveless union. Yes, he and his late wife had eventually rubbed along fairly well, but there had been nothing like he – like he –
Like he felt for Dean.
Oh God. And if he hadn’t overheard Lady Bradbury and her fiancée, he might never have known, never have realized…
Well, he would rectify that mistake as soon as he could. There was no point in waiting. He’d always taken what he wanted.
Their fight still rankled. Dean knew of course that he had no right to be angry at his sovereign, and that he was to blame as well, and really, if you thought about it, nothing had happened, but still…
And now his aunt had sent him to tell the king that dinner was ready. Why she couldn’t have asked any of the servants, he had no idea.
Alright, he could do this.
He saw Dean approach before he could possibly have seen Crowley, and it caused him an anxiety he had never known before. Should he meet him? Should he wait? How was he supposed to act – what to say?
It was ridiculous. He was not a young man anymore, not by any stretch of the imagination, and he had never been shy.
So he thought it best to simply sit down on the well looking casual but happy to see Dean. That should do the trick.
He really hadn’t imagined that the king would wait for him like that. He wore the biggest smile on his face Dean had ever seen on him, which immediately put him on his guard. “Your Highness”. He still took care to sound respectful; he could hardly afford their sovereign to be angry at him.
“Dean” he all but jumped up and he wondered what had gotten into him. Was he playing a game, only to have him arrested later? It didn’t sound like him, but he had always been unpredictable.
“How are you on this fine evening?”
What was going on? “I am quite well, your Majesty, thank you.” Dean thought about adding And you know that since you only saw me an hour ago, Peaches, but didn’t.
“Good. That’s… good.”
Was Crowley actually… hesitant? Dear God, what was the matter? Had aunt Gertrude realized something was wrong and that was why she had sent him? No, she would have told him.
“I am sent to tell you dinner is ready”. He took a quick bow and decided to withdraw.
“Wait… Dean!”
He turned around, feeling slightly annoyed now. It was one thing to want to pretend their fight hadn’t happened, but this cheerful voice was uncalled for unless Crowley really was that glad to see him, and that made no sense at all. “Yes?”
“Thank you very much for taking the pains to telling me.”
“Like I said, I was sent to. I had no more pains to tell you than you have to thank me” he replied, feeling rather lost. When had Crowley last thanked anyone, anyway?
“Still.” Crowley stepped up to him and looked him right in the eyes.
Man, had they always been this green? Dean’s throat was suddenly dry.
He had no idea what was going on, he was thoroughly confused, and he had just realized all over again just how attractive his king was.
Yes. Time for a retreat. Now.
“If you’ll excuse me, my King.”
And then he all but ran away like the coward he was.
Well.
Crowley didn’t have all that much experience when it came to courting – usually he told people they wanted him and they either agreed or didn’t and so he moved on – but still –
Dean had been hesitant, but he believed that was customary when it came to new relationships. And really, the look on his face before he had left had not been hard to read.
Yes, Crowley decided, he could very well be satisfied with how his first foray into romantic seduction had gone.
Dean was quickly walking back to the house, wondering what exactly had been going on back there. If this was some kind of game Crowley was playing…
And then he heard Aunt Gertrude. “The king is in love with my nephew? And you are certain of that, my Prince?”
And just like that, he found himself frozen to the spot for a moment; in the next, he dived behind a statue not far from him to hear more.
“Oh yes. I know my father, and I have never seen him like this. Would you believe it, he is actually considering a marriage proposal.”
“Oh dear” she sighed. “Really?”
“Apparently it would be a huge celebration for the whole kingdom…”
“You mean if Dean says yes.”
“What do you mean, if?” Gavin asked before Deann himself could utter his own rebuttal. It was a good thing, since he suddenly found himself wondering why he would immediately object to the if. It wasn’t like –
Was it?
Did he?
Oh God, did he?
It certainly explained Crowley’s strange behaviour – his grin, his asking after Dean’s health, the look they had shared –
For God’s sake, how hadn’t he noticed? He swallowed.
“Dean has never wanted to get married. I can’t imagine him changing his mind, not even for the king.”
“But certainly if my father were to offer his hand… You cannot deny that he would be a catch, as they say.”
No, no one in their right mind could deny that. Crowley might have been a bastard but he could also be surprisingly kind and generous when he wanted to be; and really, how many kings would have put up with such insolence from his subjects as Dean had regularly shown him?
And yet he had come to visit his aunt again and again…
He swallowed.
If the king loved him…
“Of course not, and I won’t lie and say it wouldn’t be a great thing for the family. But you know… Dean can be stubborn. Maybe it would be best if you were to tell him not to risk it so he won’t be humiliated.”
What? How dare his aunt just make decisions for him? He had every right to – to –
To what, exactly?
On then one hand, Dean really had never felt inclined to marry., He’d assumed it just wasn’t for him.
But wouldn’t it just be impolite to refuse someone who truly loved him? Plus, it was the king they were talking about. He certainly had enough on his plate; he might need someone to help rule the land…
And then there was this other thing…
Dean had just become thoroughly acquainted with his own feelings.
“If this doesn’t work, nothing will” Gavin told lady Bradbury as they walked to dinner.
“I certainly hope so” she said. “If only so Charlie can concentrate on her approaching nuptials.”
A week was certainly not enough time to prepare everything, but her daughter wouldn’t take no for an answer.
“Don’t worry, milady. I am ready to bet that by the time the two are joined at the altar, another couple will be engaged to be married.”
To say Dean was nervous as he changed for dinner was an understatement. How was he supposed to let Crowley know he was interested under the watchful eyes of his cousin? And what was he supposed to war?
“Come on Dean, you’ll be late for dinner and – dear God, how many shirts have you tried?” Charlie demanded to know.
“I don’t know what you –“ And then he turned and saw his bed which was unfortunately proof that he had indeed discarded quite a few garments as unsuitable.
“Well well well” she grinned at him. “Are we trying to impress someone?”
“I don’t know hat you mean” he said haughtily.
“I haven’t seen you dress that carefully in a long time. Back when you were infatuated with –“
“Yes, yes” he interrupted her quickly, rather certain he didn’t want to hear about the escapades of his youth, especially not when Charlie was the one narrating them. “I just… I thought…. The rebellion was struck down, and you are about to marry the love of your life, you know, so It would be nice to celebrate in style.”
There. That was a satisfactory explanation, surely? Not even Charlie could say something against that. And yet her eyes narrowed. “So that’s it? You want to look pretty fir dinner because of the good news?”
“What other reason could I possibly have?”
“I don’t know, maybe a rather handsome and rather lonely…”
“I definitely don’t know what you are talking about” he said firmly, hoping that he sounded as convincing as he was hoping.
“Of course not” Charlie said, suddenly grinning like the cat that got the cream. “You haven’t seen Mother or Prince Gavin, have you?”
“No!” he squeaked to his humiliation, “Why would you ask?”
She shrugged. “Just wondered if you had, that’s all.”
“Nom – I – we’ll see them at dinner.”
“Exactly” she grabbed his arm. “Now let’s go, time to show everyone just how handsome you look for this celebration…”
Gavin was well aware that his father loved punctuality and had little use for those who didn’t; so when he came down from his room and found that the king had not yet done so, he felt not a little alarmed.
He quickly made his way back upstairs to find his father’s door leaning open. That was enough to send even more alarm bells ringing; normally he kept it closed –
But what he saw through the door gap when he got there made him stand still in his tracks.
Crowley was busy checking two ties against one another in the mirror, looking uncharacteristically unsure of himself.
Gavin bit his lip to keep himself from laughing and knocked. “Father? It’s past six already.”
He did have the honesty to look rather sheepish when Gavin opened the door all the way. “I couldn’t quite decide...” he trailed off as if he had just realized that he was trying to look good for someone else rather than himself for the first time in his life, and in fairness, he probably had.
Gavin took pity on him and made his way through the room in a few decisive strides, pointing at a dark red tied. “This one.”
“Are you sure?”
It was the first time his father had ever asked him such a question and he again had to hold back his laughter. “Yes. Very sure.” Extremely sure when he thought about the looks Dean had bestowed on Crowley over the years they had known each other, in fact, but he didn’t think it a good idea to tell him so. It might make him angry, and then he would botch courting Dean. Better to let things take their course.
His father put the tie on. Yes, Dean would definitely appreciate that.
“Come on, you don’t want to cause a crisis, do you?”
The look Crowley shot him was definitely unimpressed, but Gavin only smiled back benignly.
Dean had decided that first of all, he should probably apologize for their fight during their game, and for how he had talked to the king when he’d been sent to get him for dinner. It would probably make a good impression and let Crowley know that he rather cared for his good opinion, too.
If he showed up, that was.
“He’s never late.”
Charlie rolled her eyes. “It’s only three minutes past six.”
“But –“ he was well ware that he was giving himself away, so he was rather relieved when he saw the king and Gavin step into the dining hall.
To his surprise, Crowley, after greeting Aunt Gertrude again and congratulating Charlie and Gilda on their engagement once more, immediately turned to him. “Milord Winchester. May I tell you that you look rather ravishing tonight?”
Dean swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry. “Only if I may repeat the compliment.”
“Of course.” Crowley’s eyes were sparkling in a way Dean had never seen before. “May I accompany you to the dining table, then?”
“If you want to annoy the others by one of our little fights again…”
“Oh, I have just the idea how to entertain ourselves” he said so quietly that only Dean could hear.
He really hoped he wasn’t blushing.
Charlie glanced at her mother; she knew that the king simply leading Dean to dinner and deciding that they should eat next to each other was playing havoc with her table plan; But to her relief, she was smiling. When she caught her eyes, she shrugged in that way Charlie remembered from her teenage years, when she had been proven right and Mother proven wrong.
Everything seemed to be going very well indeed, she decided as she squeezed Gilda’s hand.
Everything was going wrong. It was bad enough that Oskar had to stay and act merry for a wedding of one of the soldiers who had beaten his; but to watch his brother’s obviously successful courting was too much.
This couldn’t be allowed to go on.
He knew Crowley well enough to feel that he would probably decide not to formally propose until after the wedding, if only not to take away from his intended cousin’s nuptials; but once they were done with –
Unless –
Unless –
Yes. If he managed to ruin the marriage by smearing Charlie Bradbury’s name, his brother wouldn’t be able to marry Dean Winchester. The stain on the family honour would be too great.
He smiled to himself. Yes, this was what he would do.
This was a side of Crowley Dean had never seen before but one, he had to admit, he rather liked. Oh, they still bickered and bantered; that had only been to be expected; but he'd never so openly shown pleasure in Dean's company. If he had, he would have realized sooner...
Not that it mattered now. There were more important things to focus on.
"Not long now" he said happily, looking at Charlie and Gilda. "Three more days, and these two will be married. About time, really. Knew it from the first moment they laid eyes on one another."
"It must have been frustrating" Crowley replied calmly, but there was a challenge in his expression, in the raised eyebrow he was bestowing on him.
As always, Dean rose to the occasion. "Oh yes. It usually is, when one's unsure how things will turn out."
"But once that has been dealt with..." Crowley said quietly and Dean knew he had to make a decision. Much as he was ready to answer the question it looked more and more Corley had for him - much as he was rather desperate to hear it, if he was being honest - he wasn't about to steal Charlie's big day.
"Yes" he therefore agreed, his own voice dropping, "especially with the wedding out of the way..."
Crowley understood, of course. "In three days then."
"Maybe more like four..."
"Dean, you will find that even if I had any princely virtues, patience wouldn't be one of them."
"I can think of several" he admitted, still quietly enough that no one but Crowley could hear him; and he gently touched his hand under the table.
Another first, he registered. He had never seen Crowley smile so happily.
It suited him.
Gavin was sure they had completely forgotten that other people were celebrating around them. At least his father had not taken his eyes off Dean since they had sat down, and Lord Winchester seemed only too happy to have his attention for himself.
Yes, if things progressed that well, they would soon have another king, and one who he knew to be attached to his father; he would no longer work through the night, not caring about his own wellbeing, not with Dean in the picture.
Gavin allowed himself a smile.
Oskar could no longer bear it and stole away, making a sign towards Ketch, who immediately slipped into the shadows to follow his master.
“Arthur” he asked him as soon as they were alone, “Have you found any way into Lady Bradbury’s bedchamber yet?”
His instructions that he should keep his eyes and ears open and make sure he got as much information as possible from the servants had born fruit, for Ketch nodded. “I have grown… close to one of Lady Bradbury’s maids, sire.”
“Excellent. Which one?”
“Margaret. She happens to have red hair, too.”
Ketch’s smile told Oskar that he had guessed what he wished. He had always been able to trust Ketch to do just that. He was the perfect servant. Although perhaps a bit too perfect in guessing what hew as thinking… once everything had been dealt with and he finally sat on his throne – he as determined now that after he destroyed his brother’s happiness, he would do his outmost to do away with the rest of him, too – he would probably be saddened by his loss when an accident befell him… but that was a subject for another day.
“In that case, it is high time that I befriend Lady Gilda.”
Granted, she had fought bravely against him, and she was loyal to his brother, so she would probably be rightly suspicious of him; but if he acted like he indeed wanted to be nothing but a subject for the rest of his life, plus people who were about to be wed didn’t think much with their heads…
Charlie was sure things couldn’t get any better. Well, almost – she would only declare them perfect once Crowley had slipped the ring on Dean’s finger. But that was only a matter of time, as had become obvious to everyone around them since dinner had started.
She didn’t think they had eaten more than a few mouthfuls. They were too busy with each other. Good.
Gilda, who had excused herself some time ago, returned to their table, looking puzzled. “What is it?” she asked.
“Lord Oskar just approached me” she said. “He conglaciated me on our wedding and told me that we put up an excellent fight.”
“Maybe he’s learned his lesson” Charlie said hopefully. “After all, the king forgave him and he has every reason to stay on his good side.”
“If you say so” Gilda said sceptically, “Still…” She turned to look at Dean and Crowley, still lost in their own private world. “It seems miracles are coming true all over the place.”
Charlie took her hand and kissed it. Yes, so it seemed.
So that, Dean thought two days later, was what it felt like to be courted. Anxious not to appear to eager or annoy his beloved, he had tried to keep out if his way and take a stroll through the garden before breakfast on the day after the feast, but he’d been alone for exactly five minutes before Crowley had shown up, claiming hew anted to take “exercise” which of course meant that he had to join Dean on his walk.
And that had not been the only time it had happened. Whenever one of them was alone, the other would invariably show up, like a moth drawn to a flame. As if the floodgates had been opened, they simply couldn’t get enough of each other’s company.
Dean was afraid they were being obvious. At least so it seemed, since Dean was greeted everywhere with indulging smiles and Prince Gavin already treated him like one of the family.
Even Oskar had been nicer to him, lately. But then, he was playing nice with all of them now. He’d even given Charlie and Gilda a non-unsubstantial gift of money just yesterday.
“May I inquire what you are reading, Lord Winchester?”
He smiled and pout away the book he hadn’t really been concentrating on anyway. “Indeed you may, your Highness.”
The night before the wedding. That was when he put his plan into motion.
It would be of little use to alert Crowley; he would see through him in a second, as he had always done; even when he had planned his rebellion, he had mostly kept away from the court because his older other would have known.
No, he would go right to Lady Fae. And someone else, someone who no one could claim was a biased witness…
Gavin would later think that he should have known, and that his father would have. But at the time, how was he supposed to know? He was preoccupied with making sure Dean and Crowley were not disturbed while they were quite obviously courting and enjoying each other’s company as much as possible; he had never seen the king like this before, so happy, and it was clear that every member of his entourage would have agreed with him.
And so, when his uncle approached him, his first thought was that he could very well handle this on his own – and with Gilda, once it became obvious what Oskar claimed to know.
“Charlie? Lady Charlie Bradbury being unfaithful? I cannot believe it.” He had known her for a while, although not as long as Dean; and to imagine her, who was so obviously smitten with her fiancé, to –
“Alas, my prince, I am afraid it is so. I can’t help it: my servant accidentally stumbled… well… courtesy forbids me to say, but I can show you tonight, if you want.”
Yes, Gavin thought, better take care of this so-called “proof” that was certainly going to turn out to be nothing but rumours; and then they could hold the wedding and forget about all of this. “But why did you come to me and not to my father? Certainly, since Lady Fae is of his entourage, he would be very interested in what you have to say…” It certainly wouldn’t hurt to ask.
Oskar actually looked contrite. “Due to my recent… activities I feel it would not be fitting for me to declare that one of whom he thinks so highly is about to be married to a harlot – forgive me – and furthermore, since this is also connected to a family that he, I believe, plans on…” he trailed off and suddenly Gavin realized.
Oh God. Please let tis not be true. Charlie was Dean’s cousin, and they were close. If this was true, then Father couldn’t tie himself to a family who was… especially with the rebellion only having been suppressed.
No. It had to be wrong. After all, Dena wouldn’t think so highly of his cousin if she were… like that; certainly he would have noticed…
“I think it’s best if you also show the lady Fae your proof” he decided. “After all, this concernsher.”
“It does indeed, my prince.”
Dean, meanwhile, was busy writing to Sam. Crowley still had to fulfil his duties as king, so they couldn’t spend as much time together as they wanted, he was currently reading a report that had come from the capital.
Dean wanted nothing more than to tell Sam that his brother, who he had lamented for years would end up an old maid, was about to be off the market, but Crowley hadn’t proposed to him yet _ they had after all agreed to wait until after the wedding; and so he could only tell him about the rebellion and the king’s visit and Charlie’s upcoming nuptials.
He didn’t think he’d ever seen her happier. And once… well, once things progressed, her marriage no longer meant that he would see less of her; instead, they would be together constantly, since he would be at the king’s side, and Gilda was part of his –
He suppressed a smile when he realized he was already imagining his future life at Crowley’s side. He really shouldn’t tempt fate like that. But on then other hand… it seemed rather clear where everything was headed.
Just a few more days, Sammy, and my news is going to knock you off your feet, he promised his brother silently.
“I don’t believe it” Gilda, who, as it turned out, while being calm and collected during council meetings and on the battlefield, was a hothead when it came to her private life, spat.
“Keep quiet, for God’s sake” Gavin tried to calm her down. “You don’t want to ruin Lady Bradbury’s reputation, do you?”
That at least made her stop hissing at Oskar, who was taking it rather well, all things considered.
“I am very sorry to have to be the bearer of such news, Lady Fae, you have to believe me” he said. “But I couldn’t allow this marriage to go on after I had learned the truth.”
“And you are telling me her mother doesn’t know? Dean doesn’t know? The servants…”
“Servants are often too loyal” he replied, and Gavin shot him a suspicious look. Now what was that about –
But they had now reached the window of lady Bradbury’s room and were looking up at it.
For a second, Gavin relaxed. There was nothing –
And then a man he couldn’t quite make out appeared at the window, kissing someone with –
His heart dropped. Red hair. Bright red hair.
“Sh, we don’t want everyone to know, do we” the man whispered, but a giggle was all the answer he got.
Gavin reacted just in time to stop her from making a scene. Betrayal or no betrayal, the Bradburys and Winchesters were a proud, old family who had served the kings of their country for centuries; and one indiscretion should not ruin their reputation forever.
Even if, he realized with a sinking heart, it did indeed look as if all their hopes for Dean and Crowley had been for nothing.
“For God’s sake” he hissed, clamping his hand over her mouth, “Don’t make a scene! I agree it is your decision how you handle this, but this won’t help at all!”
She seemed to understand, for she nodded.
He let go.
Oskar seemed apologetic. “I am sorry but I had –“
“Of course you had to” Gavin immediately started to calm him down.
“I demand” Gilda suddenly announced, “Your word of honour that you will let me decide how to deal with this.”
Gavin traded a glance with Oskar. It was her right, according to the custom of the land; but with how angry she had been…
Then again, maybe she would show restrained. After all, this would also fall back on the king – separate him from the man he had been courting more and more ardently as the days passed and with more than a small chance of success.
He had no choice. He gave his word, just as Oskar gave his.
To say that Charlie was in a happy flutter on the morning of her wedding would have been an understatement. Dean entered her room to find her putting on her wedding dress with the help of the servants. “May I help? I think this would be a nice old thing to wear…”
Charlie stared at the necklace ion his hands. “Dean! That belonged to your mother!”
“And she would certainly have been overjoyed to watch you wear it.”
“As she would have been… “Charlie hesitated then pressed on. “Is it time to congratulate you yet?”
“No”. Dean paused for a moment, then added, “But there will be soon enough, I am rather sure.”
She threw her arms around him. “Oh Dean, I am so happy for you!”
“Yes, yes” he said, detaching her from his arms, “But for now it’s your big day so let’s see…”
Gavin felt worse than he had on the day he had first heard of the rebellion. Today was the wedding day – a wedding that would never take place, if Gilda’s reaction last night was anything to go by; and this would damn his father’s hopes and dream too, perhaps the most pleasant ones he had ever had.
Granted, there had been a time when they had not gotten along very well, but that was long past – and when he thought about it, Dean had had more than a little to do with that.
It all seemed to hopeless.
Especially if – dear God, was Father actually whistling? Yes he was.
And Gavin had given his word. He couldn’t warn him.
“I believe it’s bad luck to look so glum on the day of a wedding” the king cheerfully – cheerfully – told him.
Gavin willed him to read the room, to simply know, but for once, his father was too preoccupied with more pleasant things to pay attention.
And they had done this.
An awful thought accrued to him – had lady Bradbury insisted on making them realise their feelings for each other to hurt them in the end? But no; he couldn’t believe her that depraved; yes, she had been unchaste – but so had many other people, his father, Gavin himself and probably Dean too included.
The difference was that lady Bradbury had given her word to lady Fae to marry her, and then she had betrayed her.
And God only knew what she was about to do.
Dean dressed carefully; he wanted to look good (for the king, as he admitted to himself) but at the same time not too good since this was Charlie’s big day.
And if he was lucky, his own would soon follow, he thought with a smile.
Gavin had hoped against hope that Gilda would not allow the woman she had loved – she still loved, otherwise she wouldn’t have been so angry – to undergo public humiliation, but this was not to be. Instead, here he stood, watching the priest make his way through the wedding ceremony, and then –
“If anyone has any objections –“
He closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to see his father’s face.
Everything changed in the blink of an eye. In one moment, Dean was watching his cousin getting married to the love of her life, now and then trading a shy glance with the king; and then –
“Yes, I do!” Gilda suddenly declared.
“What?” Aunt Gertrude shrieked.
“I am sorry, Lady Bradbury, but your daughter has not been chaste.”
“How can you say that!?” Charlie exclaimed, looking deathly pale.
Dean stood completely still, frozen in shock for a moment; then he quickly rushed to Charlie’s side lest she should faint.
But as always when something went wrong, she rose to the occasion. “Do you have proof?” she asked coldly, and only Dean saw the pain in her eyes.
“That I have. My prince?”
Gavin? Dean could only watch as he stepped up top them, shooting him an apologetic glance.
Apolo –
And with another painful stab, Dean realized that if they had proof, then that meant…
He didn’t look at Crowley. He couldn’t.
So he concentrated on Gavin as he explained what they had seen.
It was the most ridiculous story that he had ever heard. Charlie and betray Gilda? It was utterly impossible. He knew that even before he watched her shake her head.
“I never –“
“I am sure you will gladly tell me again and again what you didn’t do” Gilda said coldly, “But we know what we saw.”
And then she stormed off, Gavin following her with another sorrowful glance being bestowed on Dean and his father. If Dean hadn’t seen her eyes brimming with tears, he would have hated her then. But she was wounded, too.
He was busy trying to calm down Charlie, who had now that everything had begun to sink in, started to tremble; thankfully two of their most trusted servants were already looking after his aunt; and then someone touched his shoulder and he raised his head to look into the eyes of the king.
And everything he had already half-begun to fear as he watched Gilda reject his cousin came back to the forefront of his mind. He swallowed. Certainly, someone who was as proud as Crowley would now announce that he would leave immediately and Dean would only see him if he ever wished to hear his advice on the administration of the lands, if at all –
And then, to his and (as he would later learn) Crowley’s own surprise, the king kneeled down next to them. “Milady Bradbury” he said more gently than Dean would have thought him capable of, “Please, dry your tears. I am sure this is all just a misunderstanding.”
“Not a misunderstanding” Dean said, suddenly certain, now that Crowley was at his side.
Their eyes met again and in one breath, they said, “Oskar.”
Crowley swore. “I knew I should have dealt with him before –“
“He’s family” Dean interrupted him quietly, still focused on Charlie.
“Not anymore. Not after this.” And then Crowley devised one of his planes – one that, Dean felt certain, only the king could ever have come up with. “I have an idea. Lady Bradbury?”
She sniffed and wiped her eyes. “My king?”
“I ask of you to stay in your rooms. We will then give out that you have died of a broken heart.”
“What? What for?”
But Dean understood. “Gilda is going to be heartbroken.”
“Good” was all Crowley said to that and Dean shook his head even as he felt profoundly thankful.
“Yes” he said quickly, explaining to Charlie, “And while you pretend to be dead, we can clear your name. Then after this is all dealt with, you get married and live happily ever after, you’ll see.”
She even manged to smile. “Thank you, my king.”
“Don’t mention it” he said magnanimously.
“Aunt Gertrude, would you accompany her?” Dean asked. “I can then spread the news that she’s dead.”
His aunt, who seemed to have been shocked into silence, nodded and led her daughter away.
Dean, suddenly feeling shy, announced that he was going to go and do as he had said and hastily bid the king goodbye.
As soon as he was alone, his mind started to reel. This was – He swallowed. Yes, he would deal with it now and then take care of Charlie.
There was every reason to think now that they proposal he had been expecting was not going to come. True or not true – and of course Charlie was innocent – this was still a scandal, a scandal associated with his family; and a king who had only just struck down a revolt couldn’t very well afford to be tied to him.
That was it, then. The end of all the stupid little hopes and dreams he had allowed himself to indulge in the past few days.
Finding that – probably as a delayed response – he had started to shake, he decided to sit down at the well (the well where Crowley had awaited him on that memorable evening – no, he wasn’t going to think about it). He buried his head in his hands and took a few deep breaths in order to calm down.
Because he was preoccupied with his cousin, himself and the king, he didn’t hear the very man step up to him until he said, “I could have her executed, you know.”
He raised his head and stared at Crowley. “What?”
“Lady Fae. I could have her executed for having smeared the honour of your family.”
“I don’t think that would be a good idea” he said carefully. “After all, with the rebellion and everything –“
“There is noting I wouldn’t do for you.”
Dean started at him. Had the man who rumours had claimed for years didn’t care for anyone or anything, the man who had just struck down a revolt with all the strength he could muster, the man who everyone had firmly believed would never bind himself to someone else again –
“I –“
“I love you, Dean.”
Even when he had imagined that he would be proposed to soon, he had not expected that he would just come out and say it.
He cleared his throat. “It was a good thing you interrupted me because I was about to say I loved you –“
And then he didn’t get to say anything more, because Crowley had dragged him into a kiss.
When Dean drew back, he took a deep breath. “That was… unexpected.”
“Certainly not? I feel that I had made my intentions quite clear.”
Dean chuckled. “Well, yes, I did suspect once or twice –“
“You –“
Dean laughed.
“What have I gotten myself into” Crowley sighed.
“A disgraced family, for one.”
“Oh I always knew marrying you meant a disgrace.”
“I haven’t heard anything about marriage yet, is there something –“
But Crowley had again shut him up with a kiss. If that was how it was going to be, their bickering would be cut short rather often in the future, but surprisingly, he didn’t mind.
This time, after they were done, he said, “We should probably make a plan.”
“Yes, probably” Crowley sighed. “Alright, then –“
Gilda had locked herself in her room and Gavin was standing in front of the door, feeling rather lost. What was he supposed to do? He figured the best way to deal with this would be to go to his father; but he didn’t have to look for him long, since he stumbled across him and Dean as he was trying to leave the house.
Despite his fears, he only realized how worried he had been when he saw they were holding hands and felt relief wash over him.
That relief, however, was short-lived when he realized they were both glaring at him. “Young man” Dean then announced “We need to talk.”
“So you saw Charlie? You are absolutely certain of that?”
“It certainly looked like her… her hair…” he said, feeling much more unsure than he had been last night.
“Doesn’t Charlie’s servant have red hair too?” Father asked Dean and Gavin was left to wonder if he realized how much he already sounded as if they were married.
“Magdalen. Yes” Dean breathed. “If one of Oskar’s entourage seduced her and made it look –“
“Why do you think it has to be Oskar?” Gavin asked, only to be silenced by an impressive don’t be an idiot stare from both his father and his soon-to-be stepfather, if how they acted around one another was anything to go by.
“So what are you planning to do?”
“Well, first of all we are going to pretend that Charlie is dead” his father announced.
“That does seem a little extreme – “
“Oh, but so was Gilda’s reaction” he interrupted him. “And once she believes that her fiancée is dead, all she will be able to think about will be her and how she hastened her untimely end.”
“And quite frankly I think she deserves it. Just a little bit” Dean said, his eye sparkling, and Gavin began to wonder if perhaps his father had fallen in love with him because he was in no way as innocent as he often appeared to be.
“That may be” he pleaded, “But don’t forget that she was duped too –“
“Oh, don’t worry, once her heart is broken I will forgive her” Dean told him as Crowley looked at him adoringly.
Oh God. They had created a monster.
“Well then” Dean decided. “I better go and look all sad why I declare my poor dear cousin has departed”
“By the way” Father called after him as he turned to go, “Since you are about to depart, don’t I get a goodbye kiss?”
“You are not going to accuse me of having low morals, are you, your Highness?”
Huis father decided to end the discussion by simply dragging him into a kiss that frankly was a bit too passionate to make Gavin comfortable.
“What?” His father asked as soon as Dean had torn himself away, “I thought this was what you wanted.”
“You know?”
“It wasn’t difficult to figure out once we got together.”
“I didn’t think – I was afraid –“ He didn’t quite know how to finish the sentence.
“When have I ever gone the way of least resistance? The entire family could be whores and thieves and I would still wish to marry Dean.”
The king in love was truly a thing to behold. “I am glad you think that, but –“
“No buts. He gave me his word, so we are going to marry.”
“So you asked?”
“Well…” He squinted at him. “It was a bit more complicated than that, but he certainly didn’t protest when I –“
“Father!”
And then, to Gavin’s utter surprise, his father threw his head back and laughed, a happy carefree laugh he had never heard of him before.
The next few years were going to be interesting, if nothing else.
Dean made a bit of a show of it. In truth, it was rather difficult to appear sad at first, so he pressed a handkerchief to his face and hoped that everyone would think he was crying.
It worked – the first servant he met tried to comfort him, apparently thinking that he was upset that his courting by the king would come to no good, was shocked when he pressed out “Charlie is dead.”
As usual, telling one servant meant more or less telling the entire estate, and so ion, everyone was mourning his cousin.
Dean used a moment in which no one paid attention to him to steal upstairs to her room. “Everything is working out nicely” he said, “Everyone thinks you’re dead.”
“You don’t seem that sad about it” Charlie observed, looking at him closely. “Say, If I didn’t know any better… but certainly you would not allow as much as a kiss on your hand if you were not engaged before?”
He blushed fiercely. “In that case, I think it’s safe to say I am engaged to be married.”
She beamed. “I am so glad to hear it!”
“Yeah, well… we have to deal with this first, of course.”
“But still – oh my God, my cousin is going to be king!”
“We haven’t spoken about titles yet…”
“Come off it, the man is smitten with you, of course he is going to make you king –“
“Did everyone know before we did?”
He was well aware that he was giving himself away, but it did him good to see Charlie laugh after what she had been through. “When did you figure it out?”
“Wasn’t difficult once we got talking.”
She nodded. “Maybe we laid it on a little thick…”
“Oh you definitely did, but I’m not complaining. And neither is Crowley, I think.”
“I’d say, he gets the best-looking guy in the land out of the deal.”
“Trust me, he doesn’t just want my body…”
“Spare me the details, Winchester, I already know I am going to have nightmares about this. By the way, what does Gavin think of his stepdaddy?”
He thought the best reaction was to throw a pillow at her. At least it made her laugh again.
Crowley and Gavin entered a house that was already full of grief. Good. Their plan was working.
“You should tell Gilda” he advised his son.
Gavin nodded “Father I am –“
“You don’t have to apologize. I am sure Charlie will agree with us once this has blown over.”
“If you think so…” he said carefully.
“I have no doubt. No off you go; I will see if I cannot find my dearest brother.”
Gavin had no doubt that whatever his father had in store for his uncle would be rather unpleasant, but he couldn’t bring himself to care. The man had done enough damage.
“Oh, and Gavin?” he called after him. He turned around. “When you tell Lady Fae, make it as unpleasant as possible. We need guilt to rear its ugly head quickly.”
He nodded and left.
Dean eventually ventured forth from Charlie’s quarters. He had to know what was going on, and she was doing well. That was his girl.
When he arrived at Gilda’s room, Gavin as waiting for him. “I assumed you’d show up sooner or later”.
Dean nodded. “How is she?”
“In shock, I’d say. She wouldn’t believe it at first, and then she broke down in tears. Blames herself.”
A part of Dean rejoiced and felt that she deserved it; but this was no way to behave for a future king, he reminded himself. But although the thought made him giddy, this had nothing to do with the crown; no, he was going to marry Crowley, and that was quiet enough.
“You should probably look a bit sadder” Gavin advised him. “This won’t do. Your cousin is dead.”
“Right, sorry.”
He shook his head. “You and Father are a right pair.”
“Thank you” he said cheerfully.
Gavin sighed. “Well, at least everything seems to be going well.”
“Has Crowley found Oskar yet – or his servants?”
“I am rather sure we would know.”
“Yes. We’d probably be able to hear his screams if we were on the other side of the country” Dean mused.
Gavin seemed to have quite the opinion about the fact that he didn’t think that a shame at all, but kept it for himself.
“So… what do I call you, anyway?” Gavin suddenly said. “I mean you don’t exactly look like a daddy to me –“
“Young man, how dare you –“
They were both grinning.
“You should go in” Gavin told him, then. “She just said that you and Charlie are so very much alike… she’ll feel even worse than before when she sees you.”
“So much for me being the strange one for marrying your father. You’re made of the same cloth, you know.”
“Yes, yes” he muttered. “Off you go. And wipe that smile of your face.”
“You should give me some respect, you know. I’ll be your king soon.”
The look Gavin shot him was decidedly unimpressed, but he didn’t care.
Dean wouldn’t exactly have called himself a friend of Gilda’s at this point, but even he felt bad for her when he saw how she had taken the news of Charlie’s death. Her face was read and blotchy with crying, and the second she saw him, she burst into tears again. “This is all my fault! If only I had spoken to your cousin in private…”
“We can’t change a thing about it now, can we” he said.
“And to think that just a few days ago, she was so full of life, and so happy to see you and Crowley… oh God, I ruined that too, didn’t I? She would never forgive me if she knew…”
Dean decided that Charlie wouldn’t want her to suffer too much; she loved her too well for that. “Now, now, don’t assume anything” he told her firmly.
“Really?” she snigged. “Charlie would like that.”
“Yes she would, so now let’s talk about how all this came to pass.” Granted, he already knew, but it couldn’t hurt to have Gavin’s statement corroborated.
“Oskar has a lot to answer for.”
“And I knew how he was! I fought against him on the battlefield!”
“I think it’s sage to say that you weren’t thinking clearly” Dean told her. All in all, he thought this might even be good for Gilda in the long run; he knew from the times he had been called in to advise the king that she could be rather hot-headed when she wanted to be; and this would certainly cure her of that little fault. “But there is something… me and Aunt Gertrude have been talking. Once we have established Charlie’s innocence, something will have to be done to save the family honour.”
“Whatever you want.”
Dean nodded. “You see, there is another young female relative of mine who isn’t yet betrothed...”
She understood immediately. “I will try to be a good wife to her” she said, sounding resigned, “if you wish me to be.”
He nodded again. “We decided it would be the most sensible thing to do. To show the world that we are not guilty.”
It was the custom of course, and Gilda had no choice but to accept.
He was walking towards Charlie’s quarters again when a well-known voice called out “Lord Winchester, a word?”
He turned to find Crowley stroll towards him. “My king” he said with a gallant bow.
His eyes were sparkling, “Let’s take a stroll in the garden.”
“Of course.”
As soon as they were away from prying eyes and ears, Crowley said, “Oskar and his servants have fled. I didn’t expect anything else. We’ll catch him of course, and then we’ll make an example out of him.”
“Thank you.”
“You don’t have to thank me for that, it’s my pleasure, really” Crowley told him.
“Figured as much, but still” Dean grinned. “Would love to be a fly on the wall when he Is taken.”
Crowley grinned in that manner of his he had always found a little too attractive. “I can imagine that.”
“You know we are supposed to be at odds – or at least having realized that we cannot get wed” Dean said as he stepped up to him.
“Oh no I will have to go then.”
“Will you?” Dean asked, trailing his tie with his index finger.
“You are a tease, milord.”
“Is that so? The king will have to punish me, then.”
“Oh yes, most definitely” Crowley told him gravely.
“In that case…”
They were quite pleasurably occupied when his aunt came to look for him. “Dean, everything is ready for – oh my God, excuse me, your Majesty –“
Crowley reluctantly drew back. “It is quite alright, Lady Bradbury. I assume you know my fiancé”
She thought it best to smile at them, which clearly was indeed the only thing she could do.
“We still need to officially proof Charlie’s innocence” Dean reminded him.
“I highly expect that this won’t be so difficult. I already mentioned Charlie’s servant, didn’t I?”
“Margaret” Dean sighed. “I should have known.”
“You were upset – understandably so.”
Dean looked at him. “I am sorry, have we met?”
“It seems you are a bad influence on me.”
“You mean a good one.”
“Says you.”
Dean shook his head. “What am I getting myself into?”
“I can think of –“
“Don’t start that. What if Aunt Gertrude came in again?”
“She did look rather red, I hope nothing is the matter –“
Dean could only shake his head at his fiancé again.
Margaret soon confessed everything, tearfully assuring them again and again that she had meant no harm to befall her mistress.
“Do not worry about it, Margaret” Dean said, temporarily forgetting that she, too, like everyone else, believed Charlie to be dead. “I am sure it will all work out –“
“How can it, with her in her grave!” she wailed. “I thought he was attractive, and he was nice to me – I am so so sorry!”
“Now, now” he handed her a handkerchief. They had decided that it would be best if Dean questioned her on his own since Crowley could be rather intimidating. “Dry your tears. That’s the best you can do for her.”
When Gilda heard the news, she confirmed that she would readily submit to being married off to another one of Dean’s relatives; and Charlie herself couldn’t have been happier, especially because her mother had already been to see her when Dean came to tell her.
“Fiancé!” She called out, “He said you were his fiancé!”
“So it appears” he said.
She stuck out her tongue at him. “You might be all high and mighty now, mister, but never forget who you owe your future bliss to –“
“Wouldn’t that be my fiancé as well, per definition?”
She continued to bounce up and down, as happy now as she had been devastated at her wedding.
Dean smiled. It did good to see her smiling again.
And the fact that he was betrothed didn’t hurt either.
He wondered when they could realistically expect to be wed when Crowley knocked on the door. “May I enter, Lady Bradbury?”
“Of course. After all we are going to be related.”
“Sooner rather than later, I hope. That’s what I wanted to see you about, dean – what would you say to a double wedding?”
“A double –“ Dean broke off, then stared at him. “You want to marry me tomorrow?”
“I would marry you right now if a priest was available.”
“Well” he drawled, pretending to think about it, “Charlie what would you –“
“Oh my god, of course!”
To their surprise, she skipped over to Crowley and hugged him. “The only thing that could do my wedding any better would be sharing it with Dean! You know he’s my favourite cousin!”
“You wouldn’t say this if Sam were here.”
“Doesn’t matter, princess.”
“He’s going to be king” Crowley declared.
“Of course. I didn’t doubt it for a moment” she immediately recovered. Dean himself, who, while not considering it improbable, had not expected to be made king immediately, didn’t show his surprise.
“Alright then” Charlie said, “Let’s have a drink. I think this calls for a celebration.”
Crowley, who still wasn’t used to hugs – Dean planned on fixing that – acquiesced with relief.
Later that night, Dean sat in his room and carefully re-opened the letter to Sam. He added a postscript.
P.S. Btw, I am going to be king by the time you read this. Crowley asked me to marry me and I said yes. My love to Eileen.
The next day dawned bright and sunny. Dean smiled to himself as he got ready; he might not have had the time to get new clothes, but it mattered little to him. He was going to marry Crowley, and they were going to live happily ever after – what did it matter what he looked like? Granted, he wanted to look good for his soon-to-be husband, but it seemed to that there was little reason to think he wouldn’t.
And of course Crowley always looked good, too.
Gavin knocked on his door. “Dean? Everything ready?”
“Yes, how do I look?”
“You don’t have to worry about that, Father always thinks you look good” he said, unconsciously echoing his word, “But yes, you do look handsome.” He looked away, then back at him before shyly adding, “And… welcome to the family.”
“Ah, I wouldn’t say that quite yet. Remember Charlie’s wedding.”
Gavin snorted. “As if Gather would allow anyone to say something against you. He’d have them executed first. Plus, we all know you spent last night in Charlie’s room. I highly doubt she’d allow you to ruin this.”
“I have zo agree with you there” he said lightly. “Well then, let’s go and find our happy ending.”
This really had been going on for long enough.
Gilda looked pale but determined, if only a shadow of the woman who had asked Charlie for her hand such a short time ago.
A part of Dean revelled in it, but really, they had all been through enough. He had no doubt that after this, Gilda would do her outmost to make Charlie happy for all of their lives.
Just like he and Crowley would do their best to make each other happy.
They were waiting for the bride to arrive, and she did in due course, veiled so that no one could see her face.
Gilda swallowed.
Dean caught Crowley’s eyes; they both suppressed a grin. Was that how it was going to be? Dena and Crowley knowing everything, pulling the strings, making sure everything went how it was supposed to, and being able to read one another’s thoughts?
If so, Dean couldn’t wait.
He cleared his throat. “no offense, Lady Fae, but I think that considering the circumstances, you should swear that you are going to marry her before you see her face.”
“That is only fair” she said. She took her hand. “I hereby pledge myself to this relative of yours and swear she will be my wife…” she trailed off and frowned. Of course. She knew what Charlie’s hand felt like.
It was then that she threw off her veil, drawing gasps from the audience.
“You kept that close to your chest” Gavin told Dean under his breath.
“Had to make sure, save her reputation first.”
“I bet Father came up with it. You two are going to be insufferable together.”
“Be nice to your soon-to-be stepfather, young man” Crowley declared, stepping up to them. Charlie and Gilda had withdrawn into a corner, where no doubt apologies and explanations were exchanged; but Dean found it impossible to look anywhere but at Crowley. Was he actually –
“I am sure you could find it in you to perform two wedding ceremonies today, Father, couldn’t you?”
Of course he had waited until now. Of course there was to be no formal announcement. No, his fiancé just decided to shock an already pretty shaken audience.
Dean sighed. Yes. This was what he was signing up for.
“Oh yes!” Charlie appeared next to them, apparently having dragged Gilda with her. “Did I mention that my cousin is about to be king?”
Dean rolled her eyes at her.
That didn’t stoop her from happily bouncing up and down. “Now are we getting married or what?”
Fifteen minutes later, Dean was indeed king – as Crowley announced as soon as the ceremony was over and done with.
The wedding dinner was everything he could have expected, and more. Aunt Gertrude, once she had heard that Dean and Crowley were to be wed, had prepared an even more elaborate feast than she would have otherwise; and there were several of his favourite meals available, making him suspect that Crowley hadn’t been as secretive with their marriage plans as he’d thought before. Oh well. It meant a good meal… and of course that he was dining for the first time with his husband.
“I do hope you find the mal to your satisfaction, you Majesty?” Crowley asked, as usual guessing Dean’s thoughts.
“It’s perfectly adequate, your Highness” he replied.
“Hoe glad I am that my jumble kingdom can give you something that you consider edible…”
“Oh, it’s an alright kingdom. I’m going to keep it.”
“Shouldn’t the ruler have something to say about that?”
“He already said yes and he can’t take that back.”
“Do you think so?” Crowley’s hand settled on his thigh. “I believe the king can do whatever he wants.”
“Not without the approval of his co-king he can’t” Dean pointed out, squeezing the hand atop of his.
“In that case –“
“Oh god” Gavin sighed. “I had hoped you would stop flirting once you were married.”
“There was never a chance of that” Dean informed him happily.
They were enjoying a very late and very private breakfast in bed – the first of many – when a servant knocked on the door. It was Crowley who answered it – after Dean had reminded him that he should put on some clothes – since he wasn’t used to being addressed as king yet.
“They found Oskar” Crowley reported when he returned, “They’ll bring him back here in the afternoon.”
“What do you plan on doing to him?” Dean asked.
“Oh” Crowley grinned, “I would say this is something we should decide together, don’t you think? Maybe with a little help from my dear cousin…”
Dean laughed as he imagined Charlie hearing the request. “She’ll like that”.
“For now, though…” his husband slipped back between the sheets and any thoughts of his family members fled right out of Dean’s head.
“You two are utterly shameless” Charlie announced when they finally made their way to dinner in the early evening. Eventually, the news that Oskar had arrived had indeed come, but Crowley had declared that “it could wait” and Dean had agree with him.
“I don’t know what you mean. I was just enjoying my time as a newlywed.”
“So was I, but I didn’t just stay in our room with her.”
“Well, we have known each other for years, we had some time to make up for…” Dean answered.
She shook her head. “Hopeless. You are never going to learn, are you?”
“No” he answered, catching his husband’s eyes across the yard and smiling. “I really hope we never will.”
AU where Dean is a bartender and Crowley keeps coming back to the bar even though they serve horrible Craig just to try and woo him.
Tie A Yellow Ribbon Round The Old Oak Tree
Short Drowley AU based on a song I love. Enjoy!
Three years.
Three years in prison, and all just because one of those he’d never allowed to become part of his… organization had framed him for tax fraud.
As if he would ever have risked getting caught like that amateur Al Capone.
But here he was, having served three years in prison, ready to do everything he needed to get back on top.
Well, almost.
There was something he needed to know first. Something important – he hadn’t known how important until he had been behind bars.
For Fergus Crowley, there had always been one easy rule in his life as a mob boss: no romantic entanglements, never let himself be taken in by anyone.
But in what would turn out to be his last year in freedom, he nevertheless had somehow because involved with a history teacher.
Dean Winchester, smart, funny and charismatic, had been utterly shocked when the police had shown up at his door and questioned him about his lover.
At least that was what Crowley had been told. Dean’s name had been kept out of the newspapers and the court files, and for that he was grateful.
He hadn’t spoken or received any messages from Dean since his arrest.
Crowley had only become aware how much this was bothering him when he had realized he had no desire to engage in any of the usual sexual relationships prison offered, especially when one was a high profile criminal.
He didn’t want any of those lowlifes.
He wanted Dean. And he had continued to want Dean for three long years, and now he was free.
Three weeks before he was freed, he’d sent the only letter he’d written during his time in prison.
It had been addressed to Dean, of course, or at least to the apartment Crowley used to go several times a week to have dinner or watch movies or do whatever else Dean felt up to.
The letter had been short, and had contained one simple request.
At the edge of their small town – Crowley had always felt it was easier to be invisible when people thought they knew the real you, rather when you were an anonymous face in a big city – there stood an old oak tree. He and Dean had met there – Crowley had been taking a walk to gather his thoughts, and Dean had been playing with his niece who he happened to be babysitting on that weekend.
Crowley knew the tree was still there – his attorney had made sure of it – and that it could be seen from the bus he would take back to the town (God, how he hated public transportation. As soon as he got enough money, he was buying another limousine and hiring a driver).
His request had been simple. Dean should simply tie a bright yellow garment around one of the branches of the tree if he still wanted anything to do with him.
And they would see where they’d go from there.
In his heart of hearts, Crowley didn’t believe that Dean would do it. But he had to know.
And so, as they neared their home town, he walked up to the bus driver. “Excuse me. Would you mind slowing down when we reach the next city? I have to see if – I have to see the old oak tree clearly.”
The driver looked at him and raised an eyebrow. Of course he knew. He’d probably already driven enough ex-cons around to know what they looked like. “Waiting on news from your girl?”
“Something like that” he replied and the driver nodded.
When Crowley sat down again, the old lady he’d been sitting next to the whole ride patted his hand. “I’m sure it’ll be alright, love”.
“Yeah. I mean, if they waited three years...” a guy from the back chimed in.
“I have no idea if they waited or not.”
“What’s the sign?” the guy asked. “Better not risk missing it.”
“A yellow garment somewhere on the tree.”
“Even I should be able to make that out, and my eyes aren’t the best anymore” the old lady said.
Crowley soon found out it wasn’t just the two of them; apparently every passenger on the bus was interested what would happen.
He wasn’t sure he’d rather have stayed silent, but he couldn’t do a thing about it now.
When they took the corner and the old tree came into view, the guy behind him shouted out “Hell yeah!” before Crowley realized.
The entire oak tree was decked in yellow material.
It seemed like Dean wanted him to get the message.
“I assume you’ll be getting off, Mister?” the driver asked and Crowley nodded.
“Good luck” the lady told him, “I’m sure everything will be fine.”
Crowley got off to the whole bus cheering.
He slowly walked up to the tree.
There was an envelope taped to the middle of the trunk. The letter C. was written on it.
He opened it carefully.
Hey Crowley. Nice to know you can actually write, Peaches. Was waiting to hear from you. Here’s my new address. Let’s give them Hell.
The address was in a quiet part of town. Perfect for lying low for a while before putting his plan into action.
Crowley grinned.
Just a short walk, and he’d get everything he wanted
Principally Speaking
Just a cute short Drowley AU. Enjoy!
Gavin has shown himself sadly resistant to all of Crowley’s remonstration when it comes to his schooling.
As a matter of facts, every time he talks of college Gavin simply storms off.
Maybe it would all be easier if his mother hadn’t passed away when he was four so that Crowley had to raise him, but they will never know.
What he does know is that he doesn’t like being called in to meet the new principal of Gavin’s school. He’s the CEO of his own company, he’s the one who makes people come to see him, not the othwer way round. But he supposes explaining that to a precocious teenager is out of the question.
Gavin wouldn’t even tell him what it’s about, just handed him the slip of paper and ran back to his room as he always does.
Crowley even has to cancel a meeting with Dick Roman, and he’s far from happy about that. He’s going to give this principal a piece of his mind about wasting people’s time.
The receptionist who greets him is annoyingly happy, pushing several Doctor Who paraphernalia out of the way on her desk as she stands up. “MR. Crowley, I presume?” The redhead chuckles. “Dean is going to love that.”
He feels slightly irritated; none of his employees would dare speak of him that way. “Yes, I am here to see Mr. Winchester, miss –“
“Bradbury.” Isn’t that fitting. “Just sit down, he’ll be here in a minute; there was a bit of a problem with the school football team, Dean just went to sort it out.”
Dean, again. Crowley supposes it’s none of his business.
Since Gavin refused to open his mouth, he’s collected some information himself. Mr. Winchester seems to be a very hand-on principal who knows what he is doing. He’s also and English and history teachers, which makes Crowley fear for his son’s grip on the language, but he’s about to find out what’s going on anyway.
In all his endeavours, he failed to check out pictures of Dean Winchester, a fact he comes to regret when the door opens and the most handsome man he has ever seen rushes in. “Sorry for the delay. Some people needed to be lectured about deflating balls again. Mr. Crowley, I presume?”
Really, this is unfair. Someone with this cheek bone structure shouldn’t be blessed with vibrant green eyes, as well.
He shakes his hand. “Mr. Winchester.”
“Please come into my office... coffee? Alright, no coffee, then... Charlie, in case anyone calls, say I’m busy.”
“You got it, boss”. She throws them the Vulcan salute.
Dean winces as he closes the door behind them. “She’s a bit overenthusiastic sometimes, but she’s excellent with computers.”
He nods. There’s nothing to say.
“So” Dean – no, Principal Winchester –declares, stepping up to his desk and taking a file into his hands. “I don’t know if you’re aware, Mr. Crowley, but I’m an English teacher.”
He nods again.
“And I have made it a point that all teachers report to me when they notice... certain signs.”
This sounds rather ominous. Surely, Gavin hasn’t been stupid enough to take drugs? Crowley would have noticed that.
Dean opens the file. “I believe there’s a chance Gavin is dyslexic.”
What? “I’m sorry?”
“It’s not unusual that it gets diagnosed later in life, per se. I assume he’s never been fond of reading?”
“Not really. He complains it looks funny to him.” Oh God. A medical complaint that >Crowley simply took as his son being difficult once more. If Dean is right.
“Here”. Dean passes him Gavin’s homework. “Now the analysis of Brideshead Revisited is perfectly fine. I’d even say it surpasses most of what I have seen in my line of work. But look at the spelling.”
Crowley does and winces.
“Don’t worry, there are ways to treat his condition, if he’s indeed dyslexic. We should know soon, as long as you both consent to have a test taken.”
He wants Gavin’s consent too, not just his guardian’s, Crowley notes approvingly. “I am all for it, of course – whatever helps him get better in school. As to whether or not he is interested...”
“My colleagues tell me he often appears to be frustrated and angry, even more than the typical teenager” Dean answers. “I’d guess this is because he knows he’s smarter than it seems but can’t prove it. I am sure if you ask him nicely, he’ll agree.”
That’s the thing. Friendly talk isn’t exactly one of their strengths, but he vows to do it anyway.
Gavin is surprisingly amenable once he understands his father doesn’t think him stupid for needing the test (which Crowley explicitly mentions upon remembering Dean’s words) and the procedure proves that he is, indeed, dyslexic.
It’s the beginning of a new chapter in many ways.
Really, all discourse between Crowley and Dean Winchester should have ended with that one talk about Gavin, but a few weeks later, he’s just finished a business dinner and is walking down the street to the taxi stand when he looks through the windows of a bar and sees Principal Winchester sitting inside, and... well...
Crowley has never been good at denying himself certain things.
Dean looks up when he approaches him and smiles somewhat sadly. “Mr. Crowley.”
“Mr. Winchester. I hope you don’t mind me saying this, but...”
“I know, I look like crap. Happens when one gets stood up on a blind date.”
He decides the date must have been literally blind to pass up this chance.
There is every reason, the fact that Gavin visits his school first and foremost, for Crowley to nod in sympathy and beat a hasty exit.
Instead, he asks if he might buy him a drink.
Things progress swiftly after that. It’s not that he meant to secretly be dating his son’s principal, it just... happens. Really, usually his one night stands are exactly that, so he doesn’t even quite know how it occurs to them that they should be dating to behind with, but soon enough, Dean is a firm fixture in his life – firm enough that Gavin finds out one day because he returns unexpectedly early from meeting his friends and finds Dean’s car in the driveway.
“Should have known” he sighs as he enters the house, “There was this gleam in your eyes when you talked about him... Hello, Mr. Winchester.”
“Hey, Gavin” he replies cheerfully, looking up from the dinner he’s making. “Burgers?”
At least he doesn’t raise any objection.
The same cannot be said for Dean’s brother when they first meet. Indeed, Crowley soon gets the impression that he doesn’t like him.
When he asks his boyfriend (still a strange term for him= about it, however, Dean simply rools his eyes. “He’s got problems with you being a bit older than me, and the father of one of the students.”
“I am rather sure the second point is the more important one.”
Dean shrugs. “We’ll just have to lie low until Gavin graduates.”
Which he does soon enough, to no one’s surprise but his own.
Sometime later
“What are you doing here? Do you have another secret love child that you forgot to ment6ion and now Dean has to save you by taking them into our school?”
Crowley rolls his eyes. “If I did have another child, Miss Bradbury, I assure you everything would already have been handled to my complete satisfaction.”
“I don’t doubt it, your Highness. So, why are you here? Usually you and Dean meet up when you get lunch together.”
That is indeed true, and it’s a small wonder Charlie has picked up on it. She’s as clever as Dean told him she was, that first afternoon.
He wordlessly holds out his hand. She squeals when she realizes what he’s holding up.
Dean’s reaction to the ring half an hour later, while more subdued, is perfectly satisfactory, since he immediately agrees that getting married is a wonderful idea indeed.
Just Black
There aren’t enough cute Drowley AUs. Enjoy!
His son often told him that he was predictable. Crowley disagreed. He’d always made a point of being unpredictable. Yes, he had a tight schedule that he strictly adhered to, but as the CEO of the firm he’d built up from the ground, that was only to be expected.
At the beginning he had liked to keep informed of every little detail, but that was impossible these days; and so he vaguely recalled that the coffee shop in the foyer had been newly leased on this Monday morning, but didn’t worry too much about it. He took his coffee black anyway.
It had been an idea of his mother’s, the coffee shop within the premises of his business; and to this day, he only begrudgingly admitted that it had been a good one. The truth was that many of his employees preferred popping down for a quick snack to eating in the cafeteria; and Crowley himself had found it was less of a hassle to purchase his coffee in the morning than make it himself.
Still – he hadn’t checked the new tenant of the coffee shop, trusting Charlie Bradbury’s back check. If she didn’t find anything, there simply was no reason to object to the man – Dean Winchester, he suddenly remembered.
So nothing could have prepared him for the side that met him as he strolled through the door.
On the counter of the coffee shop stood the most attractive man he’d ever set eyes on, and that was saying something.
He looked up and beamed. “Good morning!”
“Morning” Crowley replied automatically. Dear God, those green eyes. “One coffee, black –“
“Nope” he answered matter-of-factly. Crowley stared at him.
“What?”
“I run a coffee shop, and you expect me to just serve you black coffee? That’d be an utter waste.”
“An utter... do you even know who you’re talking to?”
It had happened a few times over the years – new employees not realizing who Crowley was when they first interacted with him; he had got used to put them in their place –
“Fergus Crowley, CEO. Even less reason to torture yourself with boring coffee, then.”
Dean Winchester raised an eyebrow. Clearly, he was trying to challenge him.
Two could play at that game.
“So then what would you recommend, Mr. Winchester?”
He grinned, his eyes sparkling. To his surprised, Crowley realized he would have been at danger if the man hadn’t been so utterly irritating. “First of all, you always want a hint of cream and sugar in your coffee. Just black means you’re only trying to wake up, not enjoying your drink.”
“Which, I believe, is the purpose of coffee” he shot back.
“Not here. Nope. Not at Winchester’s Pie Emporium.”
Dear God, he hadn’t paid attention to the name before.
“Here, we want people to enjoy their coffee, and to get a bite to eat while they’re at it.”
“I never have breakfast.”
“Pie isn’t breakfast. Pie is brain food.”
The man was lucky he was so handsome, otherwise Crowley would have left five minutes ago. “So in order to get my coffee, I have to purchase a slice of pie? Is that your idea of how business works?”
He gave him another cheeky grin. “No.” And he quickly turned around to make coffee while Crowley could only look on, feeling rather confused. It was not an emotion he was sued to nor one he particularly liked.
“Here” Dean announced with a flourish, sliding both a cup and a piece of pie over the counter. “Pecan pie and coffee... with spice. On the house.”
“Spice?”
“You look like you could need some in your life” Dean winked.
“I’ll let you know” he drawled before leaving, not giving him the satisfaction of watching him react to the food and drink.
And alone in his office, he had to admit that both were delicious.
If only Dean Winchester weren’t so annoying. Well; there was no reason for him to visit the coffee shop; he could always get his assistant to bring him some, or he could go without, if he had to.
And yet he returned to the shop the next morning. It seemed the place was already catching on. Several of his employees were sitting at the tables having a quick breakfast, none of them meeting his eyes. He was sued to it.
Winchester beamed at him. “Crowley! How did you like the pie?”
Something he definitely wasn’t used to was being addressed so formlessly, and he could almost hear each of the patrons holding their breaths.
“It was adequate, thank you. Do I get my black coffee now?”
Dean pouted. “I thought I had converted you from your blasphemy.”
Strangely, Crowley found himself wishing to give in. He squashed that impulse quickly.
“Just coffee, black, strong.”
“Fine, fine, but don’t say I didn’t try.”
“I would never do that” he assured him calmly. Dean brought him his coffee and he went to his office, aware of several incredulous stares from his employees. Really, they were being overdramatic. Just because Dean’s approach to business was a tad unusual didn’t mean that he had to be a bastard towards him.
Only after he had taken several sips of his coffee (that tasted excellent, however it felt like he was missing something... maybe spice? Wait, what? No he wasn’t going to go there) did he notice that Dean had drawn a smiling sun on his cup with the line “No need to be bitter!” under it. The word bitter was underlined.
Who was this man?
That afternoon, Charlie Bradbury came to his office to discuss the new accounting program. As always, she’d done everything to ensure a swift and easy transition; and Crowley mused once more that it was more than worth it to allow her to wear her Doctor who shirts during meetings.
“Miss Bradbury” he said as she was about to leave, “The new tenant of the coffee shop, Dean Winchester...”
“Oh, you’ve met Dean?”
He raised an eyebrow. The question implied a familiarity he had not been aware of. “You know him?”
“Sure, we’ve been friends since college. He got a business degree to open his place after he’d become a baker.”
Dedication. Certainly more than Crowley usually encountered. He cleared his throat. “He seems very... opinionated about coffee.”
She grinned. “So you already got the “black coffee is a waste of all my year of training” speech?”
“Something like that.”
“Don’t worry about that. He’s really a good guy – one of the best men I’ve ever known. Helped keep me on the straight and narrow back then, really.”
Crowley could have replied that he had his doubts this was entirely true, but it would have come close to bantering.
She was eying the cup he hadn’t thrown away yet for some reason. “Oh, he must really like you. He’s begun with the puns.”
It was of no consequence whatsoever whether Dean Winchester liked him or not, so why was he pleased to hear that? “We’ll see how it goes – with the coffee shop, I mean.”
“Of course. Don’t worry, Dean’ll make profit. He’s really good at what he does.”
Remembering the pie, Crowley had to agree with her.
Not out loud, of course.
The next morning, Dean greeted him with a big grin. “Charlie told me you really liked the pie.”
“I did not say any such thing.”
“Yeah, but she can read you like a book.”
He’d rather not have his employees gossip behind his back, but he could hardly do anything against that.
“Don’t look like someone kicked your puppy. She thinks the world of you.”
That... was definitely not something he had heard before.
“Here” Dean said, sliding over another piece of pie with his black coffee. “Apple. On the house.”
“You do know what it means to make profit, right?”
“I know what it means to make my customers happy” Dean said cheekily and Crowley looked down at his cup.
A drawing of a kitten next to the words Just espressing an opinion, but black coffee is still boring.
Another pun. He thought of what Charlie had said and left quickly.
A few days later (all of them beginning with Dean’s happy grin and puns on his cup) he and Gavin had a fight. He’d just called him to talk about his plans to expand – they didn’t always see eye to eye, but Gavin was still his son and heir and needed to know about such things – and they had ended up quarrelling about his work ethics again.
“Father, you’re not getting any younger. You shouldn’t work every day of the week, and you’re lonely –“
“I’m not lonely.”
“Of course you are, I can hear it in your voice –“
Things had only gone downhill from there, and he was annoyed enough to leave his office not at ten pm as he was used to, but at nine.
As it turned out, Dean was just closing up shop. He must have seen him through the glass doors, for he pushed them open and called out, “Hey Crowley, come in!”
He obeyed, not quite sure why.
Dean put another piece of pie in front of him, this one with a small scoop of vanilla ice cream on top. “Do you want to talk about it?”
“How do you know?”
“I am familiar with that expression. Seen it often enough in a mirror” he replied simply.
“I had a fight with Gavin.”
“Your son?”
“Miss Bradbury should –“
“Please. You really think I don’t check on people I do business with? That’s how I know about him.”
Crowley was impressed. Not many people managed to surprised him.
“Yes. He thinks I should take it easier.”
“Can’t see why you shouldn’t. Business is booming, you have more than enough people to take care of things...”
“I don’t really like to let go of my control” he answered.
Dean grinned. “Too bad. Maybe we should work on that.”
And just like that, the conversation took on a completely different tone. “You think so?” he asked casually.
“Yeah. Can’t disappoint your son, after all.”
“I think I did that years ago.”
Dean shrugged his shoulders. “You know how it is. Children rarely, if ever, forgive their parents.”
Oscar Wilde? Crowley was finding more and more layers to Dean Winchester.
It was... almost exhilarating.
He shouldn’t have – common sense told him he shouldn’t have, but he’d always had trouble denying himself what he really wanted – but he went home with Dean that night.
He would have excepted it to be a one night stand, but somehow, it kept happening. A few nights a week, either his or Dean’s place, no one to see them or judge them, and then he found himself taking a weekend off for the first time in decades.
And yet he wasn’t allowed to sleep in; a phone call woke them both up early Sunday morning.
Dean groaned and turned around, burying his head in his pillow. Crowley allowed himself a small smile as he answered.
“Father! You’re not in your office! Is everything alright?”
“Yes, Gavin. I have merely taken your advice and taken a weekend off –“
“Not that it didn’t take me months to convince you to” Dean grumbled, still half-asleep, which was probably why he didn’t realize Gavin could hear him.
“Father!? Did you find a boyfriend!?” Gavin all but shrieked and Crowley idly wondered if that was the reaction children were supposed to have when they found out their parents were dating.
Wait – dating? Were he and Dean dating? They had never talked –
Dean took the phone out of his hand. “Gavin? Hi, this is Dean Winchester, your father’s boyfriend. Yes, i would like to meet, but I only just got him to take some time off, so... Alright, I’ll tell him.”
He hung up. “He’ll call this afternoon.”
“Alright” Crowley said, still feeling a little bit unsure –
Dean cuddled up close. “We’ll talk later.”
Crowley, on this warm Sunday morning, decided that this was a wonderful idea.
As You Are
Drowley once more, I am afraid. More Destiel will be coming, though. AU, mafia boss!Crowley, married Drowley. Enjoy!
His husband would never forgive him for getting blood on the carpet. It was Dean who had insisted on the thing (Crowley had from the first thought it was hideous) and now he’d dropped a body on it.
It was the fool’s own damn fault. He should have known there’d be a knife coming. How dared he break in and try to kill him as if he was a run-of-the-mill minion anyway?
There was a reason they’d called him the King of Hell, once.
Still, things between him and Dean hadn’t been going well lately, and now the carpet...
It didn’t matter anyway, he realized suddenly.
He would have to leave. He’d never force Dean to vanish and never see his family again, so that meant...
Dean would probably be happy to watch him go. It seemed like all they’d done during the last few months was fight, and over the most trivial things, too.
“For God’s sake, it’s a couch, just pick one!”
“I would like to be comfortable in my own home – “
“How am I supposed to know what you “like” since you never tell me a thing – “
Maybe they had been doomed from the start. There were just some things he’d never been able to share with Dean, things that had slowly come between them, things that, if he’d known them, would have led to him running away at top speed, and...
Crowley should have known better.
His only excuse was that Dean had looked as gorgeous on the morning he met as he always did, and that he’d known from the first minute that he wanted him.
He sighed as he sat down on the couch.
He was getting too old for carrying bodies around on his own, but this time it couldn’t be helped. And in the morning, he’d tell his husband he wanted a divorce.
He wearily eyed their wedding picture on the wall. Five maddening, insane, wonderful years, the best years of his life, and it was all over.
He really was getting old. He’d fallen asleep right there, on the couch he’d picked out just last week, and woke up to Dean asking in a pointed manner, “Crowley, why is there a corpse in our living room and why is there a knife in its back?”
He rubbed his eyes tiredly as he replied, “Sorry about the carpet.”
“Sorry about – oh God, it really was you”. Dean was looking at the body.
“But why in the back, you can’t tell me – “
All in all, Crowley was rather impressed with his husband’s calmness at the situation. He’d waited for hot, boiling rage. Or maybe fear.
“I had to kill him before he harmed you”.
“Had to... Crowley, we call the police if there’s an intruder in the house. This is what they are for.”
“Not when you happen to be me, darling”.
“Don’t call me that” Dean snapped; for some reason, he’d always hated that particular pet name.
“I’m calling 911. Someone will have to clean up here – “
“Dean, you can’t” he said hastily, getting up.
“Don’t be an idiot, I have to. I’ll call Sam too, it was self defence of course, but why did it have to be in the back – “
“It was dark and I had to throw it”.
“It was... of course you did”. Crowley ripped his phone out of his hands.
“Give that back!”
“I won’t. Sit down so I can explain”.
Dean made an annoyed sound but did sit down.
“Alright. You got five minutes before I – “
“Dean, my real name was never Crowley Sheppard”.
Like ripping off a band-aid, he told himself. He’d always been against useless pain.
Useful pain, to gather information for example, was something else entirely, but that was a subject for another day.
“What?” Dean blinked.
“My name wasn’t Crowley Sheppard. It was Fergus MacLeod”.
“Why would you give me a false name? And why tell me now?”
He wasn’t even angry; that’s how little he already meant to the man he’d married.
Apparently he’d never heard of him, but that didn’t surprise him. People paid little attention to details when it came to news about criminals, unless they happened to be very notorious, and he’d always been content to keep himself in the background.
“From the Hell cartel”.
The media had been responsible for that nickname, and it was more than reasonable to assume Dean had heard about it at some point.
Since a few years had passed, he needed a moment to place the name.
His eyes widened and he moved away from him on the couch.
That was it then, the moment he finally lost him.
He reminded himself it had been coming for some time.
“Wasn’t MacLeod... are you telling me you were a freaking mob boss!?”
“That is exactly what I am telling you”.
“Are you kidding me?”
Dean sprang up and started to pace up and down, pointedly ignoring the body.
“I married – wait why the assumed name? And why did you go after me in the first place? Suburbia isn’t exactly what gangsters usually go for... oh God it was all a cover, wasn’t it. Every single minute. You were playing me...”
“No” he interrupted him. “I wasn’t. I assure you, I wanted to marry you”.
“But... why?”
“What do you know about the Hell cartel?”
“I... didn’t the feds get them all a few years ago?”
“You’re looking at the chief witness against them. As well as several other high-profile criminals”.
“But... wasn’t it your cartel to begin with”.
“Yes. And then...”
Crowley took a deep breath.
“I told you about Gavin”.
Dean nodded.
“You said you never wanted to talk about him again. I know you still miss him, though”.
He smiled at him somehow weakly. The years had dampened the feeling of loss slightly, but the guilt was as strong as ever.
“We didn’t really get along for years. He spent most of the time with his mother, and I... I didn’t feel comfortable as a father”.
“I suppose you had enough to do”.
Dean was actually joking. There was hope then, of at least parting ways amiably.
“But... things got better. Eventually. He and his girlfriend were on his way to visit me when they had the car accident”.
He’d told Dean as much. Then he’d demanded they never mention it again because he hadn’t wanted to repeat half-truths again and again.
“It turned out someone had cut the breaks of their car. The...” He swallowed.
On to something else he’d never confessed to Dean.
“The autopsy revealed Fiona was pregnant. I think that’s why they wanted to see me... They wanted to tell me in person.”
“Oh Crowley”.
Dean sat down next to him and reached out to squeeze his hand.
“I’m so sorry”.
He nodded, acknowledging the comfort he’d never been able to ask for before.
“I decided to investigate myself... it was members of my own cartel”.
“Back stabbing sons of bitches” Dean said, earning a smile.
“I decided I was done with it all.”
“So you went into witness protection?”
He chuckled.
“It took a while for the FBI to believe I was being sincere”.
“Can’t imagine why. And this guy...”
Dean gestured towards the corpse without looking in its direction. He was still holding Crowley’s hand, and he cherished the contact. It was the last time after all.
“The FBI have always been grossly incompetent. A few managed to escape... No one high up in the organization, but still.”
“I see. So he came for revenge”.
“I didn’t leave him the time to explain himself”.
Dean nodded.
“So what now? We call your... handler or whatever in the FBI?”
He nodded.
“I suppose I’ll be out of your hair in a few hours”.
“What do you mean?”
Dean withdrew his hand abruptly.
“They’ll hardly leave me here, and I know you’d never move away from your family. I won’t expect you to follow me. They’ll probably fake my death like they did before...”
Only he’d had no one left behind but his mother at the time, and she’d most likely been glad he was gone.
“So... that’s it? Five years, three of them married, and you’re just going to leave me here?”
He shouldn’t have, but he enjoyed the hurt in Dean’s voice. Even after all their fights, he was still angry at him for going away. He was still that important to him, at least.
“I told you...”
“Okay, you said that would happen if you called the FBI. So what if you don’t?”
“Dean, there’s a body on the floor”.
“I know and you’re paying for the new carpet, mister, but that’s not the point.”
Dean looked down at the body again, this time seizing it up.
“We need shovels and flowers”.
“Flowers?”
“We do have a garden, don’t we?”
Crowley’s eyes widened.
“Are you suggesting...”
“We burry this thing and forget about it, yeah. Does he have any friends likely to look for him?”
He shook his head.
“Even if he told someone where he was going, they’ll guess what happened and keep their mouths shut”.
“Well then”.
This was a side of his husband Crowley had never seen before, and he was enjoying it immensely. And yet...
“Dean, what do you think you are doing?”
“Keeping my husband” he replied simply, stepping up to him.
God, it had been too long since he saw that gleam in his eyes.
“Are you propositioning me over a dead body?”
“We’re not standing over it exactly. Don’t act so high and mighty, you were the mob boss here”.
“I’m just surprised”.
Dean grinned and gave him a shove. He landed on the couch, Dean towering over him.
“What can I say? There is something sexy about a man being ready to kill for you”.
He pulled him down and kissed him.
They made love right there as they hadn’t in too long, desperately, passionately.
Three weeks later
Sam and Sarah arrived at Dean’s and Crowley’s barbecue a little late, but there was nothing Dean couldn’t forgive if it meant seeing his nephew.
“Hey mini-me”.
“Should have known there would be repercussions for naming him Dean” Sam muttered, but he was smiling.
His smile only grew bigger when Crowley stepped up to Dean to greet them, his hand resting at the small of his husband’s back, and he actually relaxed into the touch.
Things were looking up.
He and Sarah had been worried about Dean’s marriage for a while now. They just didn’t seem to have anything to say about each other, and if he’d had to hear about Dean’s “blue balls” one more time...
That was a thing of the past too, if Dean’s posture was anything to go by. He remembered it well from their teenage years.
Crowley and Sarah were talking about Dean Jr. while he was working on the grill; Sam came to talk to him after Benny had moved away.
“Things seem to be going well” he said carefully.
Dean grinned.
“Yeah. We were in a bad spot for a while, but we talked it all through – no more secrets.”
Sam snorted.
“I bet a business man has a lot of those”.
For some reason, Dean chuckled.
“I’d tell ya, but I’d have to kill ya”.
After a moment he added, “We’ve been talking about kids. Nothing specific yet, but – you know”.
“Dean, that’s awesome!”
Dean had always wanted kids. Crowley hadn’t seemed to be interested until now. Maybe he’d needed some more time to get over his son’s death? Sam could easily imagine that.
His eyes wandered to the new addition in the garden.
“That’s a good place for a flower bed.”
Dean grinned.
“Yeah, thought I’d try something new. Charlie had a freak-out about it earlier, you can go fangirl with her”.
“I wouldn’t go that far, but it looks pretty nice”.
“We did it together. Sort of bonding experience, you know...”
He caught his husband’s eyes and smiled.