all one-way sympathies

[vivememorleti]

Even toward the end of winter, it got dark early, and Kisuke soon found himself in the back of the cafe, in the shop, sitting at a low table under dim gold lights that made him yawn broadly enough to rub at his jaw where it stretched umcomfortably. He hadn't had any after-hours customers all evening, and had decided eventually to do some of the paperwork from the cafe just so that the night didn't feel like a total loss.

There'd been no sound for some time beside the meow from across the building, and the scratch of his own pen on paper. The regular swish of cars back and forth on Darrow's streets outside. But it catches Kisuke's attention when one of the cars slows, and he looks up to watch it park nearby, a bright red thing that still manages to stand out between one gray Toyota and the next on Darrow's streets.

Putting his work aside, Kisuke dropped the pen he'd been chewing at idly as he worked to the desk and stood to cross the distance, parting some of the wooden blinds to better peer out of the gap between the slats.

Realizing just who it is, he doesn't bother to disguise his stare from the window, but moves to the door when Dean Winchester finally exits his car and crosses the street. He unlocks it, poking his head out. The air fogs his breath, grabbing it and pulling it away.

"You look like you've had it rough," he says, searching out Dean's face.

Comments

[always_enduphere]

It's no worse than the discomfort that preceded it - pressure in Dean's chest, the shallowness of his breath over the panicked skitter of his heart. No worse, but for the presence of Kisuke's fist in his chest elbow deep.

Dean exhales in relief when it's over, clutching one hand to the spot, but of course his flesh is whole. And now that freaky glowing shell is inside of him.

"Hardly my soul's first fisting," he says, rubbing. "Feel free to hit me with the entendre next time."

[vivememorleti]

Kisuke gives a snort at Dean's response, dropping his arm to his side and doing his best to disguise the clench of overstimulated muscles within the wide sleeve of his haori. Predictably, the spell he used to place the object inside of Dean had put his own synchronization out of order. It's painful, but shouldn't last more than a couple of days.

Certainly a fine cost to benefit ratio.

"I like you," he says. "You're cheekier than the last guy. Men who can take a joke are so much easier to work with. Although, maybe not as fun to tease." He narrows his eyes in feline amusement before moving off toward the ladder and peering up to the pinprick of light at the end of the dark tunnel above.

"We're done for now. Eventually, there will be other things we need to do. For the time being, just trust that time will do its work. If you have any weird side effects, come find me. I'd like to say there shouldn't be any ... but I've only actually done this five times before."