“Y-you're gonna what?” Flynn sputtered out, quickly absorbing the words the blue haired giant was telling him. Dean, he…he wanted to move past level one. He wanted to follow him. But…but he hadn't done that in months! At least that's what Abigail had said.
Dean swung his legs over the bed and Flynn yelped, stumbling around in his hand briefly before the movements stopped and a sly grin smiled down on him. He stiffened.
“You heard me.” Dean stated devilishly, his voice deepening at the end.
The excitement fizzing up like apple cider in Dean's chest only continued to grow as he looked down at the pink haired human in his hand, cupping him around tighter in the base of his palm. He saw Flynn flinch and reach out for the edges of Dean's palm for balance and to no avail, and he felt that familiar pang in his stomach as he watched him.
He suddenly didn't care if it made Flynn uncomfortable. He didn't care if the human would do anything he could to escape Dean. He wasn't going to let that happen. Flynn…
Deans eyes narrowed in on the boy cupped in his hand, still staring up at him with wide split blue eyes flashing with thousands of emotions. His heart turned over between his ribs and he smirked, swallowing.
…He couldn't let him go. He had to figure the kid out.
The monster inside of him began to rip through his chest, fumbling with his stomach and baring its fangs in Dean's mind. The overbearing, protective, and controlling thing that craved every inch of Flynn, the one that didn't care what anyone else wanted. All he knew and all he cared about was making Flynn his to hold onto. Only his.
At least until he figured out what made Flynn so prominent in the crevices of his mind.
So lovely, so fragile,
The way he slipped in so perfectly between his fingers,
The way he drowned in the rivers of blue spilling in his irises.
It made him want to melt between the waves of colors…
“SUNSET. YOU HAVE 3 MINUTES TO GET OUT HERE!”
“Shit…” Dean grumbled, still upset his morning was coming to an end. He couldn't help but bitterly notice the relieved expression that sparked on Flynn’s face, knowing that soon he would have to be released. Running his fingers through his short hair and frowning, he stubbornly plopped the human back onto the bedside table, standing up to his full height off the bed. Sighing, he walked away from the table and to a dresser on the other side of the room, yanking out a few pairs of clothing without much thought as he reached the drawer.
Flynn stumbled as he suddenly was practically dropped onto the table, mind spinning at the sudden change in Dean’s attitude. What the hell? He watched Dean stand up, his stomach turning as the giant stretched himself off the bed, his face fading higher and higher above him until he was level with Deans thin white tee shirt covered hips. A layer of skin right below his boxers was peeking out, the V of his hip bones bulging through the shirt. Flynn swallowed, looking down and nailing his gaze to his own socked feet as heat grew across his face, hearing the giant walk away from the bed towards the dresser. No, snap out of it. You're not gonna like Dean you're not gonna like Dean you're not gonna-
“You might want to start getting dressed there, unless you'd like me to help you with that.”
Flynn flicked his gaze back up and almost gasped, stretching his neck up and up to meet Deans face, already back from the side of the room. He hadn't even noticed him coming back. Dean’s pelvis was pressed against the table, leaning menacingly over the human. It was practically a 90 degree angle up to Dean’s face. Red hot pressure built furiously in Flynn’s gut and he reeled back, covering his bare chest with an arm. One of Dean’s hands lay haphazardly on the table mere feet away from Flynn, ready to grab him in any moment.
“N-no, I think I'm okay.” Flynn sputtered, desperately trying to hide his flustered he was. He did so poorly, which only seemed to excite Dean more.
“Fine. Suit yourself, then.”
Everything in Dean’s system, the dirtily delicious desires building up in his groin wanted to simply snatch the human back up and feel his bare skin against his fingers. Struggling in his hand as Dean absorbed the sweet cinnamon smell of his hair, the way he looked at him not in quite in complete fear but in overwhelming curiosity and awe. His hand twitched with need, but he resisted, instead pressing his hips further against the table and smirking down at an extremely flustered Flynn. He had never had so much fun in his life.
Teasing Flynn, tempting himself, feeling control flood thorough his veins like lava as he watched Flynn melt under his gaze. It was practically intoxicating. Pausing, he tossed the clothes in his hand onto the table next to him, and a sly smirk stretched across his face, his eyes darkening with playfulness. Flynn noticed this and gulped, the hairs on the back of his hairs standing on end.
“Don't mind if I do so myself.”
It wasn't until Flynn saw Dean reach for the ends of his tee, staring Flynn right in the eye that he realized he was about to witness a giant striptease.
Oh holy hell.
Slowly, dragging on like syrup oozed out of glass, Dean’s grip on the tee shirt tightened and he began to unravel it up…and up…Flynn tried to look away, desperate and confused and wanting anything than to be there shaken to the core by some giant trying to get to his head. But a smaller part of him wanted this more than anything. He squashed that side.
Flynn felt his limbs turn to jelly as Dean finally tugged the entirely of that poor shirt over his head, revealing his enormous, thick tan chest. Hip ones stretched up into his sides, bulging at the sides slightly before trailing into a toned ribcage and up to his collar bones, thick and prominent, like massive branches curving into the cups of his shoulders. And it was so…big
The moment seemed to stretch on for days, weeks, years, but really it had only occurred in a matter of dirty little seconds. The first thing Flynn felt was an overwhelming intimidation. There was nothing he could do to stop Deans little charades like this, and he was torn between two immense and dangerous urges: one, to run and hide from him, to distract himself with anything besides Deans and his chocolate eyes and his Christmas smell and his weird desire to strip, and instead move up level by level and forget he ever existed. Two, however, was to fall into this trap, the once that twisted him into crawling towards his face and touching his lips, the one that remembered the strange softness of Dean’s touch yesterday. God only knew what he could do.
To his relief, Dean snatched back up a shirt from the bed he had tossed later, slipping the new black fabric over his head and disgruntling his short blue hair. It hung tight around his thick frame, tugging at his stomach and chest. The dark smirk never left his face.
“Well, I've done my part. You sure a little thing like you doesn't need some help?” He purred haughtily, flicking his gaze over to the suitcase that had been placed near the bed. Clothes were already laid out on top of it, which he had placed last night. Without saying a word, Flynn startled and shuffled over to the bed, reaching for a long sleeve navy blue sweater. He glanced back briefly, still shaky from Dean’s previous performance, to see if the giant was still watching him.
Sighing and knowing there was nothing he could do to distract Dean from something else, he slipped the soft sweater over his head, tugging on yesterday's jeans that had been tossed onto the ground, er, table. Dean was already tugging on a pair of jeans behind him, the loud clench of a zipper piercing behind him. Flynn stiffened, plucking up his thick rimmed glasses off of the mini table next to his bed that never got slept in.
Why why why, god, w h y does Dean have to be like this… He thought to himself exasperated, already exhausted and not even an hour into the day yet. He slipped the glasses sloppily onto his face. Maybe if he could just sit down for one moment-
“SUNSET! OUT NOW.”
Flynn didn't even have time to think.
In a matter on milliseconds, something brushed his side and he gasped. A finger, then two, then three and a thumb curled around his frame and pressed against his stomach and back. Flynn’s eyes widened and he instantly began struggling, more so instinct than an actual fear of being picked up. Not againnnn… Flynn groaned to himself as he continued to squirm. He heard a chuckle rumble from behind him and in a pinch, he was hoisted up into the air.
Dean grinned as he heard the staff’s voice outside, and he couldn't honestly say those words had ever made him smile. But today was different. Today he had this tiny little human squirming around in his palm, which was way to cute for his own good. Today he was going to go past level one. All he had to do was not KO anybody today…
That was no fun.
But it was going to be worth it. He thought to himself as he gathered up Flynn in his hand, rolling him around a little bit to get a better look. He met Flynn’s face for a second and had to resist the urge to snicker. He looked so peeved. It was a delightfully refreshing difference from the usual terror that flashed across his face when picked up like that.
“Off we go.”
And with another devilish smirk, he cupped Flynn close to his chest protectively and stepped over to the door, twisting the knob to meet the mass of troubled teens in the hallway of hell.
Flynn shrieked a little as he felt himself thrust against Deans chest, still awkwardly cupped in his fingers but instead they were partially pressed against the black fabric, creating some kind of weird balcony. The overwhelming pine scent wafted all around the human curled up in Dean’s hand, desperately trying to gain his footing despite the thundering footsteps and uneven surface. He could hear the giant thu-thump of Dean’s heartbeat, creating an uneven rhythm with the boom of his footsteps. Giving up trying to peep out of the hand, he slumped over against the chest, letting the hand wrap around him a little tighter and gripping clumps of tee shirt to keep steady.
Dean felt Flynn struggle against his chest and he smiled, thundering through the hallways past the others, who were eyeing him carefully and keeping their distance as they all traveled downstairs for breakfast. Every other day they had gym in the morning, then breakfast, but today thankfully it was a weekend so they could all eat in peace. Other giants paused cautiously as Dean passed, but he noticed their gazes transition from the usual fear and intimidation to the grip he had in his chest, furrowing their eyebrows at him. They were probably wondering how Dean hadn’t killed Flynn get, and most likely pitying the poor thing.. He protectively gripped the human tighter.
Once downstairs, Dean collapsed into one of the dining room tables, which the stairs immediately led to. Beside it was the kitchen, where the smell of cheaply microwaved eggs and bacon spread throughout the house. He was the first one at the dining room. All the others were way too scared to sit down before him after Dean’s first week here, where someone took his seat at the very end of the bench and he gleefully proceeded to beat the shit out of him. That kid was gone now. Poor Tyler.
Dean uncurled his hand from his chest, nudging the human back into his palm so he didn't fall to his death, or worse, his lap again. Dean smiled to himself. Personally, he wouldn't really mind the second one.
But now was not the time for fun and games, he reminded himself. His therapist would be here later tonight, and at much as he hated that assclown Gary, he had to be good all day so he could give the OK to level 2.
He looked down at Flynn, who was staring up at him with wide, slightly frightened eyes, and that familiar light pang of guilt hit Deans chest for scaring him. But it was for his own good. He’d keep him safe from the other psychos in this joint…
Christ, this guy was a psycho! Flynn exclaimed to himself exhaustedly, still recovering from being plucked up out of nowhere and smushed once again against Dean’s damn chest. Dean’s seeming fascination with him, the way he held him like no one else was even allowed to look in his own direction, the way he brought him up to his eyes just a tad too close and looked just a tad too long… it boggled his mind. Flynn was constantly forgetting that he had only been here for a day, that just yesterday his mom, with her angry scruffy blonde hair and slightly smeared mascara shipped him off to hell on a hill, sipping her coffee and trying to look sad. His heart rolled in his ribs. Dean was more protective of him than his own mother, and he was borderline abusive.
Flynn flinched as he had felt himself moved away from the dark fabric, a flood of cold air replacing the previous intense body heat and pine that had seeped into him. His eyes instantly found Dean’s, fumbling around in the creases of his rough palm before noticing that the giant had never taken his eyes off of him. His own bright blue eyes widened, still not adjusted to being held like this…to everything and everyone being so big. It was enough to send involuntary tremors all through his spine, as cool and crisp as the peppermints in Dean’s pockets. Flynn watched in awe as Dean’s full lips slightly parted, completely ignoring the wave of teens flowing into the room and taking their seats. His dark eyes glimmered, lips parting into a soft smirk as he stretched out one of the fingers that was behind him and rubbed against the human. Flynn winced, and scooted away, feeling overwhelmed, but just like yesterday, of course that didn't stop him.
“Careful there, or Dean here might just choose to eat you for breakfast instead.”
Flynn jumped as another giant, one he hadn't seen before crashed dangerously into the bench right beside Dean, his shaggy surfer blonde hair dancing over green, teasing eyes. The joke, however, did little to humor him. Dean immediately stiffened and Flynn instantly came to the conclusion that the two were not friends. Well, he knew Dean didn't really have any friends here, but this was more so . Flynn squirmed uncomfortably, suddenly even more frightened being trapped in Dean’s hand than he was before.
“Careful there, or I might beat your ass.”
Flynn’s eyes widened as the blonde haired giant just laughed, simply slapping Dean on the shoulder as he relaxed in the seat, swinging both of his legs over the bench. The shoulder tensed angrily and unconsciously Dean’s hand lowered, giving Flynn a means of escape which he quickly took advantage of.
Dean watched as the human stumbled off of his hand anxiously, creating a “safe” distance between them. That douchebag giant Reed snickered next to him, obviously amused that what he had said had gotten to Flynn. On any other day, Reed would already be on the floor, nose bloody and head busted, but despite the red hot hanger boiling in Dean’s blood, he simply had to bitterly clench his fists.
However, he still wasn't too keen on letting Flynn slip away like that. That dick Reed wasn't going to stop him from doing what he wanted. He reached out a hand above Flynn, ready to pluck him back up mostly just to prove a point. A growl burned in his throat and he snatched back up the now terrified looking human, just about to bring the startled little thing up to his face when a voice rang out.
“Gooooodmorning Sunset!” A shrilly voice pierced the air, belonging to a stumpy blonde staff named Cathy. Dean grunted and lowered his hand back down, still angrily trapping Flynn in his fists despite his struggles. Flynn couldn't try to get away that easily. He wouldn't let it happen just because of some dick.
“I hope all you boys slept well!”
A series of bored mumbles of “yes, yes we did.” followed, and Cathy grinned her toothy smile, continuing.
“Today we have eggs, toast, and bacon for breakfast. Isn't that just marvelous?”
“Yeah, real enthralling. I'm shaking.” Dean mumbled loudly, earning a few chuckles from the other tables. Flynn couldn't help the small smile that spread across his cheeks, resisting a light laugh despite his current rather uncomfortable arrangements. Cathy’s forced grin quivered, desperately trying to look cheery but obviously unnerved by Dean’s remark. Her eyes suddenly narrowed in on the human trapped in his fist and he stiffened. Shit.
“Ahem.” She cleared her throat, gesturing to Flynn in an inaudible way of saying “put him the hell down.” Flynn turned his neck to look up at Dean with wide, pleading eyes
Please don't make a scene please don't make a scene… Flynn begged to himself, propping his hands carefully on the edges of Dean’s fist and already imagining the poor souls that would be victim to Dean’s fury.
He watched carefully as several emotions and conflicting ideas flashed across Dean’s face, looking down at Flynn at with with angry, determined eyes to hold onto him, but then a strange thing happened. A sense of need mixed with resistance sparked in his expression and in a flash, he released his grip, sending the human fumbling onto the wooden table. Flynn caught his breath, catching his balance on his hands and knees with his hands as a realization suddenly struck him.
The only reason Dean was complying…was because he really was going to try to get to level 2.
He glanced up at the buff giant, his elbow now propped up on the table beside Flynn and holding his head grumpily in his hand. The giant next to him was still snickering under his breath, and Cathy had an expression of shock mixed with pride at taming the beast.
Flynn sighed and lowered his head, letting his hair fall sloppily in front of his tired eyes and desperately wishing with everything in him that he could've just come to Sunset, been a goodlittleboy, and gotten the hell out of here. But no, he had to be victim to this person, to this giant that both shook him to the core and melted the wires entwined in his ribs. It was then that he realized this had been the longest Flynn had gone without snapping the blue hairtie around his wrist.
Probably because every second here so far with Dean constantly hovered over him, the ghost of his fingers wrapped around his frame, the peppermint fragrance swirling and twisting his tongue, was already just as shocking and intoxicating as the snap of the band.
And the whole house noticed too, Flynn realized as he took deep, shaky breaths, still on his hands and knees and flicking his gaze over to the other tables. Other than the blonde, the rest of the boys were staring wide eyed, jaws slack from Dean to the staff, and back to Dean, hardly believing what had just happened. Dean, the known house bad boy, the one who didn't talk to anybody unless it was a threat, and the one that all the staff shivered behind, had just submitted to authority with the flick of his hand. All the staff were frozen in their places, waiting for Dean to yell “psych!” and punch someone in the face. But none of that happened.
In that room on that day, history was made. The blue haired giant was sitting there, forcing himself to stay calm and keeping one of his hands protectively close to the boy toppled onto the table.
He was simply remaining quiet, keeping his gaze set on nothing in the room besides that table, where the human that had involuntarily started it all lay, the very catalyst for Dean’s newfound passion to breathe.