By now he should probably be used to it. He should probably even expect it but he never does. He comes home broken and hating himself. He’s not fit for human company when he walks through that door, bottle of whiskey in hand. He gives her an out—every time—greeting her and then walking on through to the back yard to take a seat on the steps out there. He never expects her to show up because he doesn’t want to be around himself. Why the fuck would she want to be?
But she surprises him.
She slips her arm around his shoulders and presses a kiss to his cheek, just catching the corner of his mouth. He can smell the waxy lipstick, almost feel it on his skin and he’s begging for her to kiss him again. But he doesn’t expect it.
She surprises him.
Moving to crouch in front of him, her forearms along his thighs, fingers resting at his waistband and face tilted up to his. She only has to move a little, kissing him softly on the lips. When he doesn’t pull away she moves up into the kiss a little more, one hand sliding up his side to the back of his neck so that her fingers can creep into the hair there.
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By now he should probably be used to it. He should probably even expect it but he never does. He comes home broken and hating himself. He’s not fit for human company when he walks through that door, bottle of whiskey in hand. He gives her an out—every time—greeting her and then walking on through to the back yard to take a seat on the steps out there. He never expects her to show up because he doesn’t want to be around himself. Why the fuck would she want to be?
But she surprises him.
She slips her arm around his shoulders and presses a kiss to his cheek, just catching the corner of his mouth. He can smell the waxy lipstick, almost feel it on his skin and he’s begging for her to kiss him again. But he doesn’t expect it.
She surprises him.
Moving to crouch in front of him, her forearms along his thighs, fingers resting at his waistband and face tilted up to his. She only has to move a little, kissing him softly on the lips. When he doesn’t pull away she moves up into the kiss a little more, one hand sliding up his side to the back of his neck so that her fingers can creep into the hair there.
“I love you,” she whispers when the kiss breaks.
She surprises him.
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Poor Dean.