ᴡᴏʟᴠᴇʀɪɴᴇ (![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/userinfo.gif){kind=small} adamantiums) wrote in ![[info]](https://www.insanejournal.com/img/community.gif){kind=small} dunwichgame,@ 2024-06-02 22:16:00 |
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| Entry tags: | !log/thread/narrative, ∙ plot: 016 it's dangerous, ◌ inactive: dean winchester (2), ◌ inactive: logan howlett 2 |
Last Week
Logan & Dean
"Tonight was a burger and beers kinda night."
"Tonight was a burger and beers kinda night."
Todash | ⚠ Maybe hinted internalized homophobia?
Old habits die hard, y'know? Sure, Dean had a stable job, the same room every night, and a friggin angel boyfriend and his life was so vastly different from anything he'd ever imagined but. Well. That didn't mean he didn't like to drink maybe a little too often and hustle a few people at pool every now and again.
It was his prerogative, anyway, and it made him still feel like himself. It was fun, and Todash had hands down the best burgers in town. So tonight was a burger and beers kinda night, as long as the bar didn't kick him out. He hadn't fought anyone since that first night, so his track record was pretty good now.
Burger done with and second beer bottle set down in front of him, Dean’s eyes caught sight of a new man in town, not one he readily recognized. Not that Dean was on recognition terms with everyone but he'd probably remember this guy. “Hey.” He called out, since the guy was only two seats from him. “You new here?”
It really was a burger and beers kind of night. An alone burger and beers sort of night. Or at least, that’s what Logan had been hoping for.
Life back in his world was always some level of dramatic. There was always some new foe to fight or some chaos happening around the mansion. There was never a dull moment around that place. But rarely was it something that made Logan feel this shitty. So here Logan was, brooding at the bar and trying not to think about everything that had been happening lately.
His eyes lifted when he heard the guy call out to him. Logan wasn’t super in the mood to chat, but he also didn’t have the energy to tell the fella to leave him alone. So after a beat, Logan replied with a tired, grumpy, “Yeah, I’m new.”
“That sucks.” Dean, a man of many wonderful words, took a sip of his beer and swung around slightly in his seat to be facing the new guy. Still relaxed as ever, he kicked his feet out to rest on the stool in between them.
So even though this guy did not seem chatty, Dean chatted anyway. “I'm Dean Winchester. Relatively new but here long enough to realize this place is a weird shit show and the guy in the kitchen here - Owen - makes the best burgers I've ever had.”
It was funny that Dean mentioned the food. Logan had asked which place in town had the best burgers when he arrived and the Mistakes hadn’t steered him wrong – this really was the best. So he nodded, silently agreeing.
“I’m Logan,” he spoke, finally turning just enough to face Dean so he could look at him. After a beat of glancing him over, Logan decided that Dean probably wouldn’t be too obnoxious to chat with. Or at the very least, Logan would give him a chance to prove he was worth talking to.
“So what do you do around here? You find a job yet?”
“Nice to meet you.” Of all the people he’d met here so far, Logan seemed to be one he could actually get along with. Maybe. There was something about him that put Dean at ease - or maybe it was just Dean fangirling a little bit, because Logan kinda looked like a wrestler and Dean could appreciate that.
Takes hard work and dedication to get a build like that. Dean, who basically worked out every day of his life in a way - did not have muscles like that. He just wasn’t built that way. “I did find a job, yeah. Got a sweet gig down at the used car lot being their on-site mechanic.”
Which was… not necessarily better than working at the actual garage, but he heard it was run by werewolves. So really, it was just more comfortable for Dean. Instead he was with the guy who was apparently from space, which was cool.
“What about you? What kinda job you have before this place?”
Logan gave another nod, this one out of approval. Being a mechanic was a solid job. If he hadn’t already signed up to be a bouncer at Gambit’s club, Logan might have considered that occupation. Working on cars was one of Logan’s favorite hobbies.
As for himself, Logan wasn’t sure what to say. The title of superhero never really resonated with him. He didn’t see himself as a hero, even if he was part of the X-Men team. Heroes were good people. Logan didn’t fit that description (in his opinion). Vigilante sounded cheesy and would probably require an explanation, so Logan finally decided on, “It’s complicated.”
And Logan would happily leave it at that.
After taking a sip of his beer, Logan decided to ask, “Know of anything to do around here that’s fun?” Because Dean honestly looked like the sort of guy whose definition of ‘fun’ matched his own.
He was slow to answer, in the same way Dean would be if he were trying to think about how to explain what it was he did back home. Sure wasn’t a mechanic, even if he’d want it to be – had he had the choice. “Yeah I get complicated.” Was all he said in response. He didn’t really feel like elaborating on that himself.
Sometimes, men just needed to keep some shit to themselves.
Fun, though, Dean could do. “Well, apart from working on cars and enjoying a good burger and a beer, I like to play pool. Bowling can be fun.” Dean was just a competitive kind of guy, he liked to win. Plus, it was sort of a novelty for him. Things he didn’t get to do much, growing up. Living the life he and Sam had.
“Shoot some cans out in the woods sometimes, to keep sharp.” He added, shrugging. “Dying to get a good game of poker going, too, just haven’t done it yet.”
Dean probably couldn’t tell from the stoic look upon Logan’s face, but he was starting to win him over. Shooting cans out in the woods and poker did sound like a good time. Neither of which they could do right now, but there was another thing that piqued his interest.
“Pool, huh? There a pool table around here?” Logan lifted a brow. Because if there was, he was very interested in playing.
He had no clue at all that he was winning Logan over, just like Logan probably had no clue Dean was feeling the stirs of friendship brewing. Logan didn’t scoff at any of the suggestions, just remained stony-faced. He gave nothing away. Dean appreciated that in a friend.
“Pool table’s just around the other side of the bar, in the back a bit. Can’t really see it from here, but it’s there. Hustled a few townies my first night here.” He failed to mention that he had then gotten into it with a mistake like him, and it ended up in a bar fight that nearly got him banned from the joint. Luckily he was given a second chance. “What d’you say, you game?”
Logan finally, finally showed something more than vague interest. He cracked a cocky smile and said, “I’ll try to go easy on ya.”
Which was about as close to a yes that Dean was going to get. Logan ordered another beer to take with him, then stood up from his seat, already on the move to find that pool table. This was exactly the sort of distraction he was hoping to find.
“Go easy on me.” He said, standing up to follow Logan looking totally affronted. “Pft.” Dean tipped the beer back, finishing off the rest of it in a quick sip before waving to the bartender for another one. Beverly. The cute redhead, who gave him a warning look. Dean held his hands up, in a don’t-you-worry type of gesture.
This was for fun.
Well, fighting with Eadwulf had been fun too but Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit that Logan would probably kick his ass, in fighting. Hell, Dean was built and he was extremely skilled, but Logan was pretty much a block of solid muscle. He was cocky, not an idiot. Though others might say that’s debatable.
“Yeah yeah, you don’t got no magic or shit that’s going to help you win right?”
The question had Logan lifting a brow.
He had dealt with plenty of people back in his world who had asked similar questions at bars. But back in his world, they were asking because they hated mutants. And if they were up against someone with special abilities, they’d sooner kick them out than play a game with them. But maybe it was Dean’s tone or the vibe of Dunwich in general, but Logan assumed the question was out of curiosity and not malice.
All the same, Logan would still react the same way he would have back in his world: act dumb until Dean showed his true colors. Logan walked over to the wall, grabbing a cue stick off the rack and pretended to inspect it. “That a common thing around here? Magic shit?”
“Yeah, pretty common. All kinds here, some I’ve heard of and some I haven’t. I mean there was a lot of magic and shit, different types of -” He didn’t exactly know what to call them now, knowing so many of the same thing he’d call monsters back home were not really monsters here. “Supernatural things, you know. Werewolves, vampires, all that.”
In his world, they’d been overwhelmingly bad, though. Something to be disposed of, all of them - mostly. Dean had spared the lives of a few, when they were not a threat, when they could be peaceful. Here, even the ghosts were peaceful, which was barely possible in his world. “What about you, any of that where you’re from?”
Dean got himself a stick, too, knowing which one he wanted almost immediately. It was the same one he always got.
“Yeah. Where I come from, it’s more common than people realize.”
This place was so weird. Logan wasn’t sure if he’d ever really get over it. For decades, he had to put up with mutant intolerance from normies. Here in Dunwich, no one even batted a lash at those with special abilities.
Dean included, apparently.
A smug little smile curved on Logan’s lips as he lifted his fist, those adamantium claws shooting up out of his knuckles. He turned them over, letting Dean see them – not as a threat, just showing them off.
“All I’ve got is these.” Logan wasn’t being humble. It was more a matter of letting Dean know, “No magic to help me cheat. Scout’s honor.”
“Holy shit.” Dean was surprised by that, eyes widened but not in fear - no, clearly in interest. He took a step forward to get a better look, since Logan was showing them at all. “Dude.” He said after a second, shaking his head. “You have knives. Coming out of your hands. That’s friggin’ awesome.”
But, as he said, not something that seemed like it’d help him win at pool. Which is what Dean was most concerned about. There was a time he’d probably have been more jumpy about it, more off-put, but in Dunwich it was just par for the course, it seemed.
“Do those things hurt you, comin’ out?” He asked, though his voice had dropped a little, more out of sensitivity than anything else. It was probably a fairly person question, he realized, a little after asking. Dean didn’t always have the most tact. “You want to break?” He’d started putting the various balls into the rack.
Oooh, Logan couldn’t stop himself. He was smiling, amused over Dean’s reaction to the claws. It was rare that someone found his claws ‘awesome’. It was nice to not feel like a monster around a total stranger. So Logan let his guard down just a little bit more, sipping on that beer he’d brought with him.
Did the claws hurt coming out? Logan nodded, looking at his hand. “Every time.” But pain was something that Logan was used to so he wasn’t exactly asking for pity here.
Logan then made his way over to the table, positioning himself and plotting his strategy. After some consideration, he made the first move, that white ball hitting the others and causing them to scatter over the green felt table. A striped ball sank directly into a back pocket and Logan stood up straight, looking rather proud of himself. It had been a minute since he’d last played. Maybe he wasn’t as rusty as he thought.
He strolled around the table, contemplating his next move.
“Do you miss your home?”
“Shit, well that friggen’ sucks. I mean I guess there’s gotta be a downside to something so cool.” He said. “Balance and all that.” At least, that’s typically how it worked back in his world. All magic had a downside. A price you had to pay for it to work. It might not be the same, but the principal seemed like it still applied to Logan’s world.
He watched the break, mildly annoyed that one sank so easily like that. Logan stalked around, thinking, and Dean watched him.
“Yeah, mostly. I miss knowing my purpose, you know. I don’t know what that is here.” He couldn’t hunt here, not the way he had been. All the things he hunted were friends here. Mostly, anyway. “But things are different here, too. More open.” Which was also nice. “Don’t think Cas and I woulda ever…” He shrugged, blushing a little. “You know, admitted our feelings if we were still back in our world.”
“I hear ya.”
Dean couldn’t possibly have known it, but he really hit the nail on the head there. And it kind of showed on Logan’s face, particularly in his eyes. Logan also missed having a purpose and he certainly hadn’t found a definitive one here. And god, it was frustrating.
He took another shot, sending a second striped ball into a pocket. On the third try, though, he missed, so he stepped away from the table, giving Dean some space.
“Cas, huh?” Logan’s face brightened up a little. If that slight pink in Dean’s cheeks was any indication, those feelings he was talking about were more than platonic. “Who’s she, your girl?”
There was always something to be done back home. Here, there were always things happening - but nothing to be done about it. There was always someone else already handling it, arguments on who’s theory was right, who’s experience was more relevant.
Nothing seemed relevant to Dean. Killing some kinda God here had weird, but temporary repercussions and salt didn’t hurt ghosts. What was Dean supposed to do with that?
Not to mention his friendly werewolf and vampire neighbors.
“Nah, Cas is my guy. Knew him back in my world too, we got swept up together here.” Which, Dean had to admit, he was eternally grateful for. He stepped up, aiming a shot and sinking it. “Been a weird but you know, enlightening time here in Dunwich so far.”
He took his time, taking his second shot. Like Logan, on the third he missed.
His guy? If Dean had been watching Logan’s face, he would have spotted a flicker of surprise.
Two guys being together wasn’t exactly weird where Logan came from. But being as old as he was, Logan continued to be shocked when others were open about it. Sort of like being open about being a mutant – it wasn’t always socially accepted.
“Oh,” was the only answer Dean would initially receive. The surprise could be heard in his tone, but no judgment. Logan then positioned himself at the table, trying so very hard to act casual as he asked, “So what changed here for you two?”
Yep. He wanted to hear the story, if Dean was willing to tell it. Logan took a shot and missed. Why was it suddenly so difficult to focus?
He didn’t see the surprise, because maybe he was more afraid he’d see judgment there, or something worse. Dean didn’t know how people would react, but he also wasn’t one to sit around being afraid.
In his voice, though, he did catch the surprise - and lack of judgment.
The miss was maybe more telling than anything else, and Dean rose a brow just slightly before stepping up. “It’s so stupid. Such a dumb story but - you met that Eadwulf guy yet? He’s somethin’ else. First time I came to this bar, he and I got in a fight. Kinda became a thing after that, and he won the last one by kissing me.”
Which didn’t exactly seem like the way that’d lead to a relationship with someone else, but. “Realized… I didn’t hate it. When Cas and I actually talked about it, he told me he didn’t want me to kiss anyone else.”
The moment brought a smile to Dean’s face and he took a shot, sinking it easily.
Logan listened. And for a minute there, he did wonder how all of this circled back around to Cas. As that last sentence reached his ears, Logan’s heart seemed to plummet deep down to the pit of his stomach. A particular realization had dawned on him. And honestly, he had no idea what to make of that realization.
He didn’t want Morph to kiss other people, either.
But there was no way in the world Morph returned his feelings. They had been friends for so long, surely Logan would have sensed it by now if they did.
A noticeable pause had followed Dean’s story. Logan eventually snapped back to the present, watching as Dean took his next shot. “So.. did you know Cas felt that way about you before then? Or was it a surprise?”
Dean took another shot, letting Logan process whatever it was he was processing. Briefly, Dean worried that this potential friendship was ruined before it even got started. He sank one more before his thoughts threw off his aim. Damn.
“It was a total surprise. For me, for Cas too. I guess my brother and a couple other people weren't… real surprised by it but I was. I didn't know at all, hell I didn't even know I… you know. Swung that way.” There was never time to deal with those thoughts back home, come to terms with them and what that might mean.
Not to mention, it wasn't widely accepted when her was growing up and as an adult he's was always just trying to make his father proud, avenge his mother's memory. “It's been different, getting to actually have a relationship, see what happens. Never thought I'd have a chance at that.”
The gears in Logan’s head were still turning as he stepped back up to the table. So Dean found out he was.. like that because of a kiss from a stranger. Logan wondered if it was going to take something that extreme to help him figure his own shit out.
He leaned down, taking aim – one more striped ball into a pocket. Back on track.
“Sounds like you’ve got a really great thing going for you.”
Another shot, another ball sunk, but Logan seemed too distracted to really be pleased with himself. He stalked around the table, contemplating his next move. “What’s Cas like?”
His next shot would win him his fifth cue ball, but no dice on the sixth. He sighed, mildly annoyed that he could be this distracted.
This game was probably not the most competitive game they could be having - maybe because they were both distracted by their own thoughts, either still coming to terms with, struggling with, or sort of in awe over things they’d been denying about themselves for a long, long time.
“I think I do.” He agreed, stepping up for another shot, easily sinking the first. “Cas is…” He stopped a moment to think about how to explain Cas, who seemed to be beyond words sometimes.
He sank another shot instead.
“Cas is an angel. Like, a literal friggin’ angel. He’s goofy and awkward. He’s full of knowledge about shit I would never even think about. He’s incredibly loyal and the only angel I ever met so far that’s not a dick.” Because most angels were absolute dicks.
“He always comes when I call. He’s my best friend.” The balls were quickly disappearing as he sank another one, just two more until the 8 ball, but he missed his next shot.
Something Dean said seemed to strike deep into those adamantium bones of Logan’s, causing him to go quiet again. Because heaven forbid Logan actually talk about what was going on with him.
Once it was his turn again, Logan was able to turn his attention back to the game. While his focus was on prowling around the table and taking those last few shots, Logan didn’t say a word that entire time. He sank his last few balls, including the eight, and didn’t even really seem all that proud of himself for winning.
Maybe they should try one more time. This time with less talk of feelings. He took a deep swallow of his beer, then asked, “Again?”
Dean would swear up and down that he let Logan win, because he wanted to make a new friend. Never that it was because he was bested by someone else. Even though Logan was obviously more than capable. Or maybe the claws gave him an advantage somehow. Which was doubtful.
“Yeah, let’s go again.” Less talking this time. He took the final swig of his beer, setting it down on one of the tables behind them. “C’mon then, rack up.”
It was his prerogative, anyway, and it made him still feel like himself. It was fun, and Todash had hands down the best burgers in town. So tonight was a burger and beers kinda night, as long as the bar didn't kick him out. He hadn't fought anyone since that first night, so his track record was pretty good now.
Burger done with and second beer bottle set down in front of him, Dean’s eyes caught sight of a new man in town, not one he readily recognized. Not that Dean was on recognition terms with everyone but he'd probably remember this guy. “Hey.” He called out, since the guy was only two seats from him. “You new here?”
It really was a burger and beers kind of night. An alone burger and beers sort of night. Or at least, that’s what Logan had been hoping for.
Life back in his world was always some level of dramatic. There was always some new foe to fight or some chaos happening around the mansion. There was never a dull moment around that place. But rarely was it something that made Logan feel this shitty. So here Logan was, brooding at the bar and trying not to think about everything that had been happening lately.
His eyes lifted when he heard the guy call out to him. Logan wasn’t super in the mood to chat, but he also didn’t have the energy to tell the fella to leave him alone. So after a beat, Logan replied with a tired, grumpy, “Yeah, I’m new.”
“That sucks.” Dean, a man of many wonderful words, took a sip of his beer and swung around slightly in his seat to be facing the new guy. Still relaxed as ever, he kicked his feet out to rest on the stool in between them.
So even though this guy did not seem chatty, Dean chatted anyway. “I'm Dean Winchester. Relatively new but here long enough to realize this place is a weird shit show and the guy in the kitchen here - Owen - makes the best burgers I've ever had.”
It was funny that Dean mentioned the food. Logan had asked which place in town had the best burgers when he arrived and the Mistakes hadn’t steered him wrong – this really was the best. So he nodded, silently agreeing.
“I’m Logan,” he spoke, finally turning just enough to face Dean so he could look at him. After a beat of glancing him over, Logan decided that Dean probably wouldn’t be too obnoxious to chat with. Or at the very least, Logan would give him a chance to prove he was worth talking to.
“So what do you do around here? You find a job yet?”
“Nice to meet you.” Of all the people he’d met here so far, Logan seemed to be one he could actually get along with. Maybe. There was something about him that put Dean at ease - or maybe it was just Dean fangirling a little bit, because Logan kinda looked like a wrestler and Dean could appreciate that.
Takes hard work and dedication to get a build like that. Dean, who basically worked out every day of his life in a way - did not have muscles like that. He just wasn’t built that way. “I did find a job, yeah. Got a sweet gig down at the used car lot being their on-site mechanic.”
Which was… not necessarily better than working at the actual garage, but he heard it was run by werewolves. So really, it was just more comfortable for Dean. Instead he was with the guy who was apparently from space, which was cool.
“What about you? What kinda job you have before this place?”
Logan gave another nod, this one out of approval. Being a mechanic was a solid job. If he hadn’t already signed up to be a bouncer at Gambit’s club, Logan might have considered that occupation. Working on cars was one of Logan’s favorite hobbies.
As for himself, Logan wasn’t sure what to say. The title of superhero never really resonated with him. He didn’t see himself as a hero, even if he was part of the X-Men team. Heroes were good people. Logan didn’t fit that description (in his opinion). Vigilante sounded cheesy and would probably require an explanation, so Logan finally decided on, “It’s complicated.”
And Logan would happily leave it at that.
After taking a sip of his beer, Logan decided to ask, “Know of anything to do around here that’s fun?” Because Dean honestly looked like the sort of guy whose definition of ‘fun’ matched his own.
He was slow to answer, in the same way Dean would be if he were trying to think about how to explain what it was he did back home. Sure wasn’t a mechanic, even if he’d want it to be – had he had the choice. “Yeah I get complicated.” Was all he said in response. He didn’t really feel like elaborating on that himself.
Sometimes, men just needed to keep some shit to themselves.
Fun, though, Dean could do. “Well, apart from working on cars and enjoying a good burger and a beer, I like to play pool. Bowling can be fun.” Dean was just a competitive kind of guy, he liked to win. Plus, it was sort of a novelty for him. Things he didn’t get to do much, growing up. Living the life he and Sam had.
“Shoot some cans out in the woods sometimes, to keep sharp.” He added, shrugging. “Dying to get a good game of poker going, too, just haven’t done it yet.”
Dean probably couldn’t tell from the stoic look upon Logan’s face, but he was starting to win him over. Shooting cans out in the woods and poker did sound like a good time. Neither of which they could do right now, but there was another thing that piqued his interest.
“Pool, huh? There a pool table around here?” Logan lifted a brow. Because if there was, he was very interested in playing.
He had no clue at all that he was winning Logan over, just like Logan probably had no clue Dean was feeling the stirs of friendship brewing. Logan didn’t scoff at any of the suggestions, just remained stony-faced. He gave nothing away. Dean appreciated that in a friend.
“Pool table’s just around the other side of the bar, in the back a bit. Can’t really see it from here, but it’s there. Hustled a few townies my first night here.” He failed to mention that he had then gotten into it with a mistake like him, and it ended up in a bar fight that nearly got him banned from the joint. Luckily he was given a second chance. “What d’you say, you game?”
Logan finally, finally showed something more than vague interest. He cracked a cocky smile and said, “I’ll try to go easy on ya.”
Which was about as close to a yes that Dean was going to get. Logan ordered another beer to take with him, then stood up from his seat, already on the move to find that pool table. This was exactly the sort of distraction he was hoping to find.
“Go easy on me.” He said, standing up to follow Logan looking totally affronted. “Pft.” Dean tipped the beer back, finishing off the rest of it in a quick sip before waving to the bartender for another one. Beverly. The cute redhead, who gave him a warning look. Dean held his hands up, in a don’t-you-worry type of gesture.
This was for fun.
Well, fighting with Eadwulf had been fun too but Dean wasn’t ashamed to admit that Logan would probably kick his ass, in fighting. Hell, Dean was built and he was extremely skilled, but Logan was pretty much a block of solid muscle. He was cocky, not an idiot. Though others might say that’s debatable.
“Yeah yeah, you don’t got no magic or shit that’s going to help you win right?”
The question had Logan lifting a brow.
He had dealt with plenty of people back in his world who had asked similar questions at bars. But back in his world, they were asking because they hated mutants. And if they were up against someone with special abilities, they’d sooner kick them out than play a game with them. But maybe it was Dean’s tone or the vibe of Dunwich in general, but Logan assumed the question was out of curiosity and not malice.
All the same, Logan would still react the same way he would have back in his world: act dumb until Dean showed his true colors. Logan walked over to the wall, grabbing a cue stick off the rack and pretended to inspect it. “That a common thing around here? Magic shit?”
“Yeah, pretty common. All kinds here, some I’ve heard of and some I haven’t. I mean there was a lot of magic and shit, different types of -” He didn’t exactly know what to call them now, knowing so many of the same thing he’d call monsters back home were not really monsters here. “Supernatural things, you know. Werewolves, vampires, all that.”
In his world, they’d been overwhelmingly bad, though. Something to be disposed of, all of them - mostly. Dean had spared the lives of a few, when they were not a threat, when they could be peaceful. Here, even the ghosts were peaceful, which was barely possible in his world. “What about you, any of that where you’re from?”
Dean got himself a stick, too, knowing which one he wanted almost immediately. It was the same one he always got.
“Yeah. Where I come from, it’s more common than people realize.”
This place was so weird. Logan wasn’t sure if he’d ever really get over it. For decades, he had to put up with mutant intolerance from normies. Here in Dunwich, no one even batted a lash at those with special abilities.
Dean included, apparently.
A smug little smile curved on Logan’s lips as he lifted his fist, those adamantium claws shooting up out of his knuckles. He turned them over, letting Dean see them – not as a threat, just showing them off.
“All I’ve got is these.” Logan wasn’t being humble. It was more a matter of letting Dean know, “No magic to help me cheat. Scout’s honor.”
“Holy shit.” Dean was surprised by that, eyes widened but not in fear - no, clearly in interest. He took a step forward to get a better look, since Logan was showing them at all. “Dude.” He said after a second, shaking his head. “You have knives. Coming out of your hands. That’s friggin’ awesome.”
But, as he said, not something that seemed like it’d help him win at pool. Which is what Dean was most concerned about. There was a time he’d probably have been more jumpy about it, more off-put, but in Dunwich it was just par for the course, it seemed.
“Do those things hurt you, comin’ out?” He asked, though his voice had dropped a little, more out of sensitivity than anything else. It was probably a fairly person question, he realized, a little after asking. Dean didn’t always have the most tact. “You want to break?” He’d started putting the various balls into the rack.
Oooh, Logan couldn’t stop himself. He was smiling, amused over Dean’s reaction to the claws. It was rare that someone found his claws ‘awesome’. It was nice to not feel like a monster around a total stranger. So Logan let his guard down just a little bit more, sipping on that beer he’d brought with him.
Did the claws hurt coming out? Logan nodded, looking at his hand. “Every time.” But pain was something that Logan was used to so he wasn’t exactly asking for pity here.
Logan then made his way over to the table, positioning himself and plotting his strategy. After some consideration, he made the first move, that white ball hitting the others and causing them to scatter over the green felt table. A striped ball sank directly into a back pocket and Logan stood up straight, looking rather proud of himself. It had been a minute since he’d last played. Maybe he wasn’t as rusty as he thought.
He strolled around the table, contemplating his next move.
“Do you miss your home?”
“Shit, well that friggen’ sucks. I mean I guess there’s gotta be a downside to something so cool.” He said. “Balance and all that.” At least, that’s typically how it worked back in his world. All magic had a downside. A price you had to pay for it to work. It might not be the same, but the principal seemed like it still applied to Logan’s world.
He watched the break, mildly annoyed that one sank so easily like that. Logan stalked around, thinking, and Dean watched him.
“Yeah, mostly. I miss knowing my purpose, you know. I don’t know what that is here.” He couldn’t hunt here, not the way he had been. All the things he hunted were friends here. Mostly, anyway. “But things are different here, too. More open.” Which was also nice. “Don’t think Cas and I woulda ever…” He shrugged, blushing a little. “You know, admitted our feelings if we were still back in our world.”
“I hear ya.”
Dean couldn’t possibly have known it, but he really hit the nail on the head there. And it kind of showed on Logan’s face, particularly in his eyes. Logan also missed having a purpose and he certainly hadn’t found a definitive one here. And god, it was frustrating.
He took another shot, sending a second striped ball into a pocket. On the third try, though, he missed, so he stepped away from the table, giving Dean some space.
“Cas, huh?” Logan’s face brightened up a little. If that slight pink in Dean’s cheeks was any indication, those feelings he was talking about were more than platonic. “Who’s she, your girl?”
There was always something to be done back home. Here, there were always things happening - but nothing to be done about it. There was always someone else already handling it, arguments on who’s theory was right, who’s experience was more relevant.
Nothing seemed relevant to Dean. Killing some kinda God here had weird, but temporary repercussions and salt didn’t hurt ghosts. What was Dean supposed to do with that?
Not to mention his friendly werewolf and vampire neighbors.
“Nah, Cas is my guy. Knew him back in my world too, we got swept up together here.” Which, Dean had to admit, he was eternally grateful for. He stepped up, aiming a shot and sinking it. “Been a weird but you know, enlightening time here in Dunwich so far.”
He took his time, taking his second shot. Like Logan, on the third he missed.
His guy? If Dean had been watching Logan’s face, he would have spotted a flicker of surprise.
Two guys being together wasn’t exactly weird where Logan came from. But being as old as he was, Logan continued to be shocked when others were open about it. Sort of like being open about being a mutant – it wasn’t always socially accepted.
“Oh,” was the only answer Dean would initially receive. The surprise could be heard in his tone, but no judgment. Logan then positioned himself at the table, trying so very hard to act casual as he asked, “So what changed here for you two?”
Yep. He wanted to hear the story, if Dean was willing to tell it. Logan took a shot and missed. Why was it suddenly so difficult to focus?
He didn’t see the surprise, because maybe he was more afraid he’d see judgment there, or something worse. Dean didn’t know how people would react, but he also wasn’t one to sit around being afraid.
In his voice, though, he did catch the surprise - and lack of judgment.
The miss was maybe more telling than anything else, and Dean rose a brow just slightly before stepping up. “It’s so stupid. Such a dumb story but - you met that Eadwulf guy yet? He’s somethin’ else. First time I came to this bar, he and I got in a fight. Kinda became a thing after that, and he won the last one by kissing me.”
Which didn’t exactly seem like the way that’d lead to a relationship with someone else, but. “Realized… I didn’t hate it. When Cas and I actually talked about it, he told me he didn’t want me to kiss anyone else.”
The moment brought a smile to Dean’s face and he took a shot, sinking it easily.
Logan listened. And for a minute there, he did wonder how all of this circled back around to Cas. As that last sentence reached his ears, Logan’s heart seemed to plummet deep down to the pit of his stomach. A particular realization had dawned on him. And honestly, he had no idea what to make of that realization.
He didn’t want Morph to kiss other people, either.
But there was no way in the world Morph returned his feelings. They had been friends for so long, surely Logan would have sensed it by now if they did.
A noticeable pause had followed Dean’s story. Logan eventually snapped back to the present, watching as Dean took his next shot. “So.. did you know Cas felt that way about you before then? Or was it a surprise?”
Dean took another shot, letting Logan process whatever it was he was processing. Briefly, Dean worried that this potential friendship was ruined before it even got started. He sank one more before his thoughts threw off his aim. Damn.
“It was a total surprise. For me, for Cas too. I guess my brother and a couple other people weren't… real surprised by it but I was. I didn't know at all, hell I didn't even know I… you know. Swung that way.” There was never time to deal with those thoughts back home, come to terms with them and what that might mean.
Not to mention, it wasn't widely accepted when her was growing up and as an adult he's was always just trying to make his father proud, avenge his mother's memory. “It's been different, getting to actually have a relationship, see what happens. Never thought I'd have a chance at that.”
The gears in Logan’s head were still turning as he stepped back up to the table. So Dean found out he was.. like that because of a kiss from a stranger. Logan wondered if it was going to take something that extreme to help him figure his own shit out.
He leaned down, taking aim – one more striped ball into a pocket. Back on track.
“Sounds like you’ve got a really great thing going for you.”
Another shot, another ball sunk, but Logan seemed too distracted to really be pleased with himself. He stalked around the table, contemplating his next move. “What’s Cas like?”
His next shot would win him his fifth cue ball, but no dice on the sixth. He sighed, mildly annoyed that he could be this distracted.
This game was probably not the most competitive game they could be having - maybe because they were both distracted by their own thoughts, either still coming to terms with, struggling with, or sort of in awe over things they’d been denying about themselves for a long, long time.
“I think I do.” He agreed, stepping up for another shot, easily sinking the first. “Cas is…” He stopped a moment to think about how to explain Cas, who seemed to be beyond words sometimes.
He sank another shot instead.
“Cas is an angel. Like, a literal friggin’ angel. He’s goofy and awkward. He’s full of knowledge about shit I would never even think about. He’s incredibly loyal and the only angel I ever met so far that’s not a dick.” Because most angels were absolute dicks.
“He always comes when I call. He’s my best friend.” The balls were quickly disappearing as he sank another one, just two more until the 8 ball, but he missed his next shot.
Something Dean said seemed to strike deep into those adamantium bones of Logan’s, causing him to go quiet again. Because heaven forbid Logan actually talk about what was going on with him.
Once it was his turn again, Logan was able to turn his attention back to the game. While his focus was on prowling around the table and taking those last few shots, Logan didn’t say a word that entire time. He sank his last few balls, including the eight, and didn’t even really seem all that proud of himself for winning.
Maybe they should try one more time. This time with less talk of feelings. He took a deep swallow of his beer, then asked, “Again?”
Dean would swear up and down that he let Logan win, because he wanted to make a new friend. Never that it was because he was bested by someone else. Even though Logan was obviously more than capable. Or maybe the claws gave him an advantage somehow. Which was doubtful.
“Yeah, let’s go again.” Less talking this time. He took the final swig of his beer, setting it down on one of the tables behind them. “C’mon then, rack up.”