Coping Skills and Peppermints (G/t) pt.4

Irony is a funny thing.

It had only been a few hours, but it seemed to be following Flynn everywhere he went.
And to make matters even better, the little episode with Dean was still racking against his head

He just couldn't seem to get that expression of Dean’s off of his mind. And surprisingly, it wasn't quite the grimace inducing gnarled smile he had originally been given that was bothering him. No, it was that slow change of expression, barely noticeable to the average eye, but in  Flynn’s position, dangled right in front of his face, it was hard not to.

His large, brown eyes had softened, slowly, replaced with an emotion Flynn could only describe as subtle fear. And who in their right mind would be afraid of a tiny human? The thoughts was nagging at him, feeling heavy in the pit of his stomach.

It wasn't just fear, however, but also a sign of gentleness, and one he couldn't quite put his finger on. Possibly... longing?

That's what put him off the most. Dean seemed to have been constantly fighting the emotions that were bubbling up to his brain, but was doing a hell of a job.

It wasn't until the staff had appeared behind him and strangled him for his expression to return back to his normal, comfortable state of being: a total bloodthirsty douchebag.  

But honestly, during the entire scene, he was shaken to the core, passively squirming between the two fingers and staring up at Dean quizzically. His hand had trembled over to his hair band, shaking too vigorously to snap it, and his eyes flicked around Dean’s face.

Dean had little gold flecks in his eyes.

His lips were full, soft, and parted open just a bit, so that Flynn could just barely feel the warm, peppermint air swim around him. Sharp shivers tingled down his spine.

These observations, however, were  not to be mistaken for the classic, “love at first sight” gay romance, where the two of them see each other and run into each others arms, or in this case, get “Swept off their feet”, quite literally in Flynn’s case, and rushed to go have some crazy, wild, and absolutely deliciously dirty sex. Flynn blushed a little, but shook it off.  

In this case, these were merely observations, he had thought.

‘I am not attracted to Dean. Whatsoever. That's ridiculous, he practically KILLED you. Okay, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but still. He's no good. You came here to ‘recover’, to be ‘a good little normal healthy boy’….

He sarcastically rolled his eyes.

’….Just….ignore Dean. The staff will take care of everything, there absolutely nothing to worry about. Dean will not hurt you, and you will not fall for him.’

That's where the irony kicks in.

And it was all due to Level 1.

~

“Level 1!! This is your starting point, here at Sunset. But no worries, most people only stay on this level for at the most a day. It's merely a protection level, just to make sure you get settled correctly.”

An hour later, Flynn had gotten most of his luggage unpacked and had mostly recovered from the very recent Dean trauma. He was now internally wanting to light himself on fire out of boredom, as he was forced to listen to new rules and procedures. Fun.

Flynn peered up at a red haired giantess staff tiredly, seated on a kitchen counter downstairs in the home. The entire “therapeutic boarding school” was basically set up as a house, but way bigger and with more rooms. They set it up like this to make it feel “just like home!”, when really the whole house smelled vaguely of cabbage. The actual “school” part was a few miles down the road. He hadn't seen to many humans here either so far. Apparently he was one of 4.

At least there was a pool outside. He loved the water.


Flynn blinked, zoning back into whatever the hell the staff was saying down at him, fiddling with his blue hairtie

“It’s the same color as Deans hair….”

He bit his cheek and snapped his band.

”Nonono, FOCUS.”

The staff eyed his hairtie suspiciously, probably tempted to call him out for “self harm”, but looked too tired to address such a minuscule example . She cleared her throat and continued, as if reading a monologue she’d read 1,000 times.

“We have 5 levels here at Sunset, and each Level comes with new privileges! Unfortunately, as for now, level 1s must always be with a staff around the house, and must always be in eyesight. But again, don't worry! Like I said, most don't stay on leve-”

“What do you mean most?” Flynn interrupted.

Who could be so belligerent as to stay a level 1?

He answered his own question before he could even finish his thought.

Dean

The giantess looked at his expression, as if reading his thoughts.

“Well, err, Dean Stonem is still a level 1 because of, uh, oppositional behavior….”

She chose her therapy words carefully.

“A staff should bring him down to us any second, and you two will be following me for a bit. But don't worry, I'm sure you'll get off this level soon enough, and Dean won't hurt you. I mean, he's been a level one for about 9 months! I highly doubt he'll be moving up anytime soon.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, she bit her lip, as if regretting saying so much.

Flynn did take a bit of comfort in the fact that yeah, she as probably right. Dean will still be a level 1 and he would move up and get the hell out of here. Perfect.

Then again, Dean still had managed to KO two staff members while on level one.

She cleared her throat nervously and spoke up again.

“Oh, uh, also because the therapists have already left, you won't be able to move up to level 2 until tomorrow. So, uh, you and Dean have to sleep in the same room.”

Flynns heart dropped, eyes widening and she spoke again quickly.

“B-but don't worry dear! A staff will be taking night shift and watching you two, so you'll be fine.”

“But aren't there any other level ones here?!”’Flynn blurted out in a panic.
He felt his face heating up.

She looked down at him dejectedly, like she actually genuinely felt sorry for him.

“I'm afraid not, sugar. It'll be okay, don't worry.”

Her attempt to comfort him did nothing to settle the wildfire that had erupted inside of him. He swung his legs that were dangling off the counter anxiously, biting the side for his cheek and trying to get himself together before Dean came.

‘It’ll be fine. Tooooootally fine. Deans probably just going to mind his own business, or maybe even beat up another staff, he won't bother you…’

She interrupted his train of thought.

“Anyways, my name is Abigail, and you are…?”

“Flynn. Err, Flynn Brooks.”

She smiled and gave him an encouraging look and he sighed, answering the question he knew she was curious to ask.

“Here for an ‘eating disorder’ EDNOS, to be exact, meaning I don't eat, but it doesn't seem to affect my body much.” He stated, mostly nonchalantly, but with a hint of bitterness in his voice.

She gave a sad, understanding smile that made him squirm. He hated that look. And the thing was, he didn't know why he couldn't eat. He just didn't. Most people wanted to stop eating so they could get thinner, but he honestly couldn't care less. He'd been like this for as long as he could remember. And the doctors told him, if he didn't start eating more, sooner or later it’d start to effect him….

But that's why he was here, after all. To get better and be a happyhealthyyoungman.

The ground been to rumble and Flynn stiffened, griping the edge of the cool, marble counter with his palms. The ground was always rumbling here, to be honest, but these steps were different. More aggressive. And numbingly familiar.

Two giant figures walked into the kitchen, one tensely holding the others arm. The arm belonged to Dean. Flynn turned to look at him, his wide build and partially fitted jeans around his thick thighs, his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones, up to his dark eyes, which had traveled quickly around the room before immediately landing on Flynn. He had changed his shirt. A tight, forest green tee stretched over his massive shoulders.

The corner of Dean’s mouth devilishly tugged up in a slight smile.

The eye contact hit Flynn like a punch in the stomach, instantly feeling vulnerable in the large room.

The other staff cautiously released their grip on Deans arm, who instantly shrugged him off. Flynn’s heart was drumming against his chest as Dean walked forwards, maddeningly slowly and every step slamming deeper into the pit of the his stomach.

Flynn swallowed and lifted his feet off up the edge of the counter, shakily standing up and backing a few inches away from the edge as Dean advanced closer.

He never once broke eye contact, feeling as if he would shatter.

In moments Dean was standing straight over the counter, his full lips still pressed into that slight, unreadable smile. He couldn't tell why he was smiling at him like that, but whatever it was it unnerved him, goosebumps trickling all down his arms.

Flynn’s stomach dropped as he leaned his head higher and higher, practically falling over backwards to meet Deans eyes, who was looming over him like a tower. It was like being in the city and looking straight up, the height dizzying and crushed by the feeling of being so small.

This whole “giant” thing was really starting to wear him out.

Abigail coughed nervously. She seemed to do that a lot.

“Ehem, umm Well…you two…”

Both Dean and Flynn snapped their glances over to Abigail, whose pale skin was flushed a deep red, probably nervous in front of “Dean the Killer”. She didn't look so big, suddenly. Compared to Dean she stood merely at his shoulder.

“….I-I expect both of you to behave...”

Dean snickered.

“…S-so maybe soon enough you can move up to level 2…”

Dean slapped his knee at that one. He turned away from the counter to face her with a grin.

“Nice try, sweet cheeks,  but I know you know that's not gonna happen anytime soon.”

He chucked, his voice slow like molasses, but deep and rough, as if it vibrated inside of everything in the room.

Her face flushed a deeper red, and she continued.

“N-now, Dean, I-I know you've never been a level one with a human, b-but we do have some procedures.”

Flynn pulled his loose, oversized grey sleeves over his hands, hugging himself to his body as he looked up at the wall of green fabric in front of him, eyes traveling upwards. Little blue hairs were trimmed at his neck. Deans triceps flexed, as if he could feel someone staring at him.

Dean cocked an eyebrow at her curiously, urging her to continue.

“T-to work on teamwork and c-cooperation, we encourage t-that the giant carry the human a-around for a bit, to get around the house. Human's usually get assistance from their friends or staff later on anyway, s-so it's good practice.”

Flynn froze, the words sinking in and he clenched his jaw, still staring up at Deans turned back. He could almost see the smile creeping onto his face as Dean heard her words, slowly shifting back around to face Flynn.

But the surprising thing was, he wasn’t smiling.

Actually, he didn't look menacing at all, and that look, that wild, unreadable look from before drifted into his features. Flynn watched Dean's stubble covered jaw swallow, his adam's apple bobbing as he licked his lips and looked down at him. The way Dean looked at him gave Flynn goosebumps down his back and made his neck heat up.

“Well…” Dean began, a small, barely noticeable smile coating his lips.

Flynn staggered back a little as his hand began to descend, the shadow of his fingers engulfing the small figure standing there on the marble.

“…If you insist."