Not My Brother
Summary: What happens when two guys looking exactly like you show up in your world yet no one bats an eye except the three of you? A whole lot of confusion. Especially when everyone keeps calling those guys you've never met before your brothers...
Pairing: None (features Dean Winchester, Beau Arlen & Ben/Soldiery Boy)
Word count: 8,600ish
Warnings: language, Soldier Boy's language, mention of torture, spoilers for Supernatural, The Boys & Big Sky
A/N: Here's the triplet fic! I wrote this basically a year ago and finally finished! Told from all 3 guys POV's. Enjoy!
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Beau
“I’ll be heading out in five,” I said, turning the corner with my eyes locked down onto a file. And smacking straight into a body. Poppernak bounced back, an apologetic look on his face.
“Sorry, boss.”
“It’s fine Pop. What’s…” I trailed off.
Sat in the two chairs in front of my desk were what appeared to be my fucking twins. One had shorter hair and a days worth of scruff on his jaw while the other’s hair was a tad longer than mine, a beard on display. He was a bit more muscular than the other one, which was saying something since they were both strong. The one with short hair was more of my body type, his green eyes flashing with a flicker of surprise at the sight of me but then nothing more. He shifted in his seat, his flannel shirt riding up in the back.
Meanwhile the other one looked pissed as all hell, jaw clearly clenched. Unlike the other one in jeans and workboots, the angry one was in a pair of sweatpants and a zip up, his sneakers absolutely filthy.
None of this would have been alarming if not for the fact that I was not a fucking identical triplet.
“Nollins found your brothers fighting again,” said Poppernak as I noticed the little scrapes on their cheeks and knuckles. “We brought ‘em to you per instructions.”
“Right…” I said, Poppernak staring at me. Was I hallucinating or something?
“You want to charge them?” he asked just as Hoyt walked into the doorway with a file in hand.
“I need a signature…well if it ain’t the Arlen boys,” she grinned, looking at my clones sat in the chairs. “Let me guess, Ben started it.”
“I did not!” said the angry one. The short haired one quickly argued against that, Jenny giving me an apologetic smile.
“I thought Ben and Dean were getting along better lately?” she whispered as she held out a file and pen to me.
“Uh, guess not?” I said, quickly scribbling on the form she wanted me to sign. “I need to deal with this.”
“Night guys! Behave for your brother for once,” she said, giving them a quick wave. Poppernak left behind her, allowing me to shut the door and lock it after them. I closed my eyes and spun around, the two men still sat there. Oh god, I was losing it.
“What the fuck is going on!” I said. Dean and Ben shared a look as I held up a finger. “Ah. I know what’s happening. I’m having a stroke. Oh! I bet I slipped on that damn front step that’s been wet all day. I slipped and hit my head and now I’m dying on the ground somewhere. Huh. That’s sad. I never got to get Emily that motorcycle like I wanted. Is she going to cry at my funeral? Stupid question. Of course she’s going to cry. God, I hope she’s not too upset. Poor baby doesn’t deserve-”
My face was suddenly tingling, Ben standing there with his hand clenched as I cupped my cheek.
“You punched me!” I said, the pain feeling way too much like a real hit. “What kind of near-death hallucination is this!”
“Stop being a fucking pussy and man up. You think I’m happy about losing my powers? You don’t see me being a bitch and crying about it,” said Ben. Dean yanked him back, pointing a finger at him. “You want to go again?”
“Shut up and sit your ass down!” Dean growled. He rolled his eyes, turning to me with a friendly enough smile. “Relax dude. You’re not dying, okay? I have a good idea of what’s going on and if I’m right, me and jackass over here will be out of your hair really soon.” He slapped my arm, dropping his smile when I stared at where he’d touched me.
These guys were real. Like in the flesh real.
“Before you freak out on me, let’s take this conversation somewhere more private, hm? Maybe not a police station? Okay, Chief?” said Dean.
“I’m the Sheriff,” I mumbled, closing my eyes.
“It’s just a nickname, buddy. You got a house? Let’s go to your house okay, Sheriff?” I nodded in what felt like slow motion, grabbing my jacket as Dean convinced Ben to come with us.
If I was going to have a mental breakdown, at least the Dean one seemed nice.
“Where’s my airstreamer!” I said twenty minutes later when I pulled up to where my home should have been. Instead, a large, beautiful wood cabin sat in it’s place, nestled in the trees. “That’s not my house!”
“According to google it is,” said Dean. I glanced to my right, glaring at him as he scrolled through my phone.
“How did you get that!” I said, trying to snatch it away.
“You tossed it in the cupholder, dumbass,” scoffed Ben from the backseat. “Is this numbnuts house or not, cocksucker?” Dean turned in his seat, his features tight.
“First off, dickwad, I screw women. Second, there’s nothing wrong with sucking cock, got it?” he rolled his eyes and scrolled the phone more. “We totally would have a homophobic alter ego out there in some universe. We’re just that damn lucky. Even you with your Sheriff job and seemingly normal life, I bet it’s fucked up to a degree huh?”
“Yeah,” I breathed out, Dean humming as he stopped his finger on the phone.
“I’m not homo whatever you called me,” said Ben, leaning forward in his seat. “I know what that means. I don’t care if a dude fucks a dude. You just look the type.”
“That’s still a problem, jackass. People don’t look-”
“Guys,” I said, swallowing thickly. “Can we just agree we shouldn’t judge other people, for anything besides their character and focus on more important things like what the fuck is happening?”
“Yes, Beau, excellent point,” said Dean, slapping my shoulder, giving Ben a glare. “Isn’t it?”
“Sure, whatever,” he said, getting out of the car. Dean slid out too with my phone, leaving me scrambling to put the car in park and follow after. “Oh you’re so a dirty cop to afford this place. I can respect that.”
“I am not a dirty cop!” I snapped, Ben raising his eyebrows as I got in his face.
“Well, well. Maybe our little pussy has a dick after all.” I looked back at Dean, his face in an apologetic smile.
“You can see how we got arrested for getting in a fist fight now, huh?” said Dean. He walked past me, slapping my shoulder before putting a hand on my back, guiding me forward towards the house. “So this isn’t your house, Beau?”
“Like I said, I live in an airstream on this plot of land. There’s an old cabin not too far but my house was right here this morning and now-”
“Fuck!” growled Ben. Dean and I froze, carefully spinning around to watch him fall to the ground on hands and knees. He started to shake, Dean moving fast over to his side. I looked around, this close to going back to my dying theory, when Dean hoisted Ben up, an arm around his body.
“Beau. Inside. Now.” He was moving fast and I jogged up the few front steps to the porch, opening the door and flipping on a light switch. I blinked, catching a framed picture on the wall. It wasn’t one I recalled taking but I could clearly see why.
There was Ben, Dean and I, arms around each, wearing big smiles on what looked like some sort of camping trip.
“Beau!” shouted Dean, already past me and up the stairs, Ben clinging to him for dear life. “Find us a bathroom now!”
“Right, sorry!” I said, jogging up after them. I skirted around them in a hallway, finding a bathroom in the first bedroom I checked. I whistled as I hit the lightswitch, Dean inside with Ben, sitting him down on the floor before he reached inside the shower and turned it on full blast. “What’s-”
“He’s having a panic attack,” said Dean. I glanced down, Ben shaking hard, his eyes staring at the tile floor but not quite seeing anything. I didn’t even notice Dean leave, quickly back in the bathroom and returning to Ben, slapping a pair of noise-canceling headphones over his ears and wrapping a blanket tightly around him.
Ben blinked, staring at Dean with tears in his eyes, anger and shame in every feature of his face.
“Go ahead and call me a cocksucker all you want man, but I ain’t leaving your ass until you’re though this, understand me?” Ben nodded once. Dean sat back next to him, sighing deeply. “Sheriff? Maybe you want to go tell your wonderful neighbors to fuck off with the fireworks? I want this guy with us when I tell you guys what’s going on.”
“Yeah, I’ll, uh, I’ll be back in ten.”
“Are you a cop? Or ex-military?” I asked Dean half an hour later. We were sitting on the large sectional in the family room of the home, big enough for more than three grown men to comfortably lay on at once. Ben glanced at Dean from where he sat by himself way down, steadily nursing his glass of bourbon and refilling it.
Dean cleared his throat and shook his head.
“You act like it,” said Ben. He said that with certainty, a twinge of remorse in my gut for not realizing he was suffering from PTSD earlier.
“You must have served,” I said to him, Dean sipping from his cold beer. I drank from my own as Ben closed his eyes. “Like Dean said, I think we’ve all had some bad hands dealt to us. Maybe of our own doing, maybe not. I’m still pretty sure this is a fever dream and isn’t actually real-”
“It’s real,” they both said.
“How do you know that?” said Dean with a nod at Ben. Ben smirked, slumping back in his seat.
“Where I come from, I was born in 1918. When I was a young man, I signed up for a secret war effort and then injected me with Compound V. It made me a superhero. Superstrength beyond what you two can even comprehend. Invulnerability. I never aged past my mid-forties. I was a war hero. A movie star. Women, men, everyone wanted to get fucked by me or be me. And then my team betrayed me, I was tortured for forty years by the russians, and they stuck nuclear waste down my gullet. But I was so damn tough it didn’t kill me. No, no. It made me powerful. I could fucking explode. Bring down buildings. Turn other supes human. Kill them.”
Ben knocked back his bourbon and smiled, looking between Dean and I.
“I was born exactly like the two of you. Just a boy. Just a man. And I could do all that before they drugged me up and trapped me back in a box. So if all that was real, then I can believe that life has the ability to throw me into another fucking dimension, or whatever the fuck this is, too.”
My eyes couldn’t have been wider, Ben snickering at me but I couldn’t even try to be mad at him.
He’d been a fucking superhero? A superhero? That was-
“I hunt monsters. And demons and the supernatural and a whole bunch of shit. Even took on the devil and God a few times and won. Technically I died in 2020, even though I did that a bunch too, but I was dead dead last I checked and it was also like 2070 something last I knew and according to the calendar in your office it’s like fifty years earlier so something weird is definitely up,” said Dean.
My head turned slowly to him, eyes still wide, mouth gaping now.
“Also, other worlds totally exist which what I’m pretty sure is happening. We’re all different versions of the same guy in different universes,” said Dean.
“You hunt monsters? What kind of fucked up world do you live in? At least he’s like superman!” I said, pointing at Ben.
“If superman does hard drugs off a hooker’s ass then sure, I’m like that guy,” chuckled Ben. My head whipped back to him, Dean holding up a hand. “Who died and made you the head of this operation in the first place, Deanne weenie? I'm the oldest. I’m in charge.”
“I spent forty years tortured in hell by demons, grandpa,” growled Dean. “I know what the hell I’m talking about so sit down, shut up, and let me figure out a way to get you back to whatever universe you belong in.”
“I spent forty years getting tortured too, cum guzzler. It don’t make you special,” said Ben, getting to his feet. Dean rose fast, the two of them bumping their chests against each other.
“Wait!” I jumped over the ottoman in the center of the couch, forcing them each to take a step back. I took a deep breath, Ben grabbing my arm to yank me backwards.
“Not now, kiddo. I need to finish what I started with this one,” said Ben. I planted my feet but Ben was strong. Maybe not super strong anymore but still, he pulled me back hard and fast. Fast enough to make me trip and hit my head on the way down.
“Ow!” I gasped, wrapping an arm around my head, slowly getting to my knees. When I opened my eyes, Ben was worriedly staring at me, his hand on my head. “Get off-”
“What is going on?” Ben asked Dean, looking over his shoulder. He was wide eyed when he looked back at me, looking me over. “Why the fuck do I feel bad I just did that? I don’t give a shit about you. I don’t know you. I don’t…”
I looked at Dean, his eyes closing.
“When Ben had his panic attack-” I said, Ben growling. I ignored him, looking to Dean still. “When he was scared, you went full blown…you were acting like you cared about him.”
“For some reason, when that happened, something clicked,” said Dean, kneeling down on the floor beside Ben and I. He found Ben’s gaze and nodded. “It felt like you were my brother. Even when you pushed Beau just now, I don’t hate you when I easily could. I just…”
“Care that Beau’s okay,” said Ben. He held out a hand, helping me sit up, a gut punching hitting me in the stomach. I swallowed, the same thick swallow they were sharing. “Dean.”
“You’re using my name. Now I’m concerned,” said Dean. Ben groaned but I understood where he was going with this.
“Dean, I think what Ben’s trying to say is…this isn’t your guy’s universe and it’s not mine either. I have one brother and he’s not you guys so wherever the hell we are-”
“We’re brothers here,” said Dean. He closed his eyes. “This is our house too. There’s too many pictures of us in this house, the bedrooms are too different, the garage outside has my muscle car in it I’m pretty sure. Which means we’re in a completely different universe.”
“Or we’re not,” said Ben. Dean opened his mouth to argue but Ben slapped his hand over it. “We could be dead. Or in purgatory.”
“I was already dead and you two weren’t there,” said Dean. “Besides, it’s 2023. I was dead and Ben was in a box? Or some shit. We couldn’t die twice.”
“I wasn’t dead in the box, moron,” sighed Ben. “I was just in a coma kind of. On ice. For probably the next forty years.”
I stood up, needing something for the splitting headache between my ears. I left them to bicker in the family room, something nagging at me that this was familiar. It couldn’t be though, right?
I wandered into the kitchen and swiped some pills from the cabinet, ducking down the hall to a bathroom and tossing a few down.
“Guys?” Loud footsteps approached as I existed, holding up the bottle. “How did I know where this bottle would be? I’ve never been in this house.”
“I’d assume the medicine would be in the kitchen,” said Dean, Ben shrugging. I shook my head, shaking the bottle.
“No. No I always keep my medicine in the bathroom. I always have my whole life. My parents did, I did, my ex-wife. Always in the bathroom. So why did I know to go to the kitchen?” I asked.
“Because that’s where Dean keeps them, isn’t it?” said Ben, crossing his arms.
“I think I know what’s happening,” said Dean, very slowly holding up a hand. “Ben. You and I woke up on that trail, remember?”
“Obviously,” said Ben. “Get to the fucking point.”
“Beau, did anything weird happen today? Did you…did you have an emergency? Did you black out?”
“No. I was at work, pursued a thief, caught them-” Dean grabbed my wrist, his face tight.
“How did you pursue the thief? Was it dangerous?”
“It was on a motorcycle. It got a little fast but-”
“I know what happened,” said Dean. He dropped my hand and ran his own over his face, eyes wide. “I don’t know how to fix this. Fuck, I think we’re stuck until we die.”
“Fine with me,” said Ben.
“What happened?” I asked, crossing my arms. Dean shut his eyes and breathed deeply.
“We are in a world where the three of us are brothers. Triplets obviously. And the reason the three of us care about each other and get flashes of things, like knowing where the pills were, are because we’re remembering lives that aren’t ours.”
“Uh…” Dean swallowed.
“Today Ben and I died. This version. We fell off a cliff while hiking. Ben fell and I tried to catch him but we both went over. And you Beau, you got hurt on that motorcycle. The versions of us from this world, they all died today. But for some reason, we all got put in the wrong damn bodies and now we’re here.”
“That makes zero fucking sense,” said Ben. He held up a finger. “Actually, it’s fucking stupid. It makes more sense that-”
“Nope, Dean’s right,” said a voice behind us. I spun around, a young man in his twenties smiling back with a wave. “Sorry, paperwork mix up. I’ll pop you guys back where you belong.”
“Hold up shortstack,” said Ben, striding over to the young man. “If-”
The man disappeared, Ben and Dean still close by. The familiar nagging feeling was gone but the three of us were still there.
“Jack! It didn’t fucking work!” said Dean.
“It did! You three are exactly where you’re supposed to be. Beau, I shuffled a few things around in your universe so Dean and Ben can stay. Ben wants to and Sam wants you to have a fair shot at life too so he’ll see you when it’s time, okay? Talk to you guys when you die! Bye!”
“The fuck is going on!” shouted Ben.
“This is why God should not be a child,” groaned Dean. “We’re stuck. We’re fucking stuck as brothers. For real now. All because man-child druggie over here wanted to not go back to being in a coma. I was dead and I was ready to go!”
Ben threw a right hook, Dean barely dodging it. He tried throwing another but I caught his bicep, yanking him away from Dean.
“Enough!” I shouted, holding up a hand in front of each of them, keeping them at arms length from one another. “You fucking calm down, Ben. And Dean, cut the guy a break for not wanting to go back to being captured.”
“He’s clearly a piece of shit. You heard him talking before, Beau,” said Dean. “I-”
“I said enough!” Dean’s jaw snapped shut, both of them huffing, giving each other dirty looks. “Ben, go take the bourbon and hang out on the porch, alright?”
He said nothing and went past, not without forcefully bumping Dean’s shoulder. When the front door slammed shut, Dean wiped a hand over his face again. “Really dude?”
“Beau, I get you want to be the nice guy but he doesn’t belong here and neither do I,” said Dean. I skirted past him, stopping in the main hall of the house, looking out the front door to find Ben sitting on the front porch with his head between his knees. “We don’t know Ben. Maybe he deserves to be locked up. Trust me, I’d love to be alive again but I want that with my real brother, not this place. Ben and I aren’t supposed to be here.”
“Actually you are,” said that young man’s voice again. We both looked around, the young man sighing. “Listen, Dean. This is Beau’s world, the Beau in front of you. Maybe I went ahead and switched things up a bit, made you guys all brothers and yes, you can recall memories when needed. Maybe I did fuck up Beau’s world. But there’s a reason for that. All three of you need each other. You-”
“I was at peace Jack. I-”
“You were bored out of your fucking mind in Heaven. Hey, you want to get back in the game? Consider this your audition. Help your new brothers,” said Jack. “Beau?”
I pursed my lips, crossing my arms. “Yes, uh, Jack?”
“You don’t have to be afraid of me. But I don’t pop into your world often. You guys don’t get into as much trouble as say, the world Dean lived in.”
“Excuse me but who’s fault was that?” argued Dean.
“My point being, Beau, is to be yourself. Your ups and downs are as valid as your brother’s. Your monsters just don’t come with claws or lasers,” said Jack. “Now I really, really need to go. Dean, magic doesn’t exist here so yeah, you guys are stuck until you kick it. I promise I will pop you back to Sam when you do, okay? Just try to be there for each other. And maybe get a stiff drink in Beau. He’s pretty sure he’s lost his mind. Be sure to stay away from rebar!”
“Little shit!” shouted Dean. He grumbled but was quickly going to the liquor cart, grabbing a bottle of tequila and shoving it in my hands. “Drink.”
“Was that…God? Is God a kid in his twenties?” I asked, Dean ripipng the cap off, and pressing the bottle to my lips. I swallowed back two shots worth before he let me up for air, patting my back.
“Yes…technically he’s his grandson. God was a major dickhead. Jack’s cool but hands off which means-”
“Which means this is for real,” I finished. Dean knocked back some tequila himself before throwing an arm over my shoulders and leading me outside.
“We stuck?” grumbled Ben.
“Yup,” said Dean, sitting down on a porch seat, leaving me to lean back against the railing, taking another swig from the bottle. “Happy fucking new universe to us.”
“It’s actually pretty nice,” I hiccuped. Ben groaned and drank down a fifth of the bourbon bottle without so much as a flinch. I blinked, staring at him as I felt flashes of a memory. “You were in special ops. You went to rehab twelve years ago for a drug problem but you’ve been clean since,” I said. Ben narrowed his eyes at me, smirking darkly.
“Your wife divorced you and left you for a rich schmuck. Oh, and your kid potentially wants nothing to do with you. Sheriff.” I turned away from him, Dean closing his eyes in his seat.
“Can we all just agree to shut up and drink tonight?” sighed Dean.
“Agreed,” we both said. No one said a word as we silently passed the bottles between ourselves.
I knew I’d have a killer headache in the morning but I didn’t care. If I was ever going to have an excuse to get blackout drunk in my forties, this was it. But even as the three of us lay on the porch hours later, everyone too far gone to even move, something tickled the back of my mind.
“We used to have sleepovers on our parents porch,” I mumbled.
“Are our parents nice?” breathed out Ben. I hummed. “Is our dad?” His voice was thick, Dean shifting beside me.
“Don’t worry about it man. Look at Beau. I’m sure his…our parents are really nice people, right Beau?” said Dean.
“Good. I don’t want anymore shitty ass parents,” said Ben. I forced my head to the left, finding his back to me. He was soon snoring, Dean relaxing comfortably close by.
Maybe when I woke up, I’d realize this was all a very intense dream that had never actually happened.
Somehow I knew in my gut though that in the morning when the sun rose, Ben and Dean would be exactly where they slept.
And they weren’t going anywhere.
Dean
I groaned as I sat up. Sleeping on the hard wood of the porch had been a mistake. I noticed a blanket had been tossed over myself, Ben snoring loudly off to my side with his own blanket and hugging a pillow to his chest.
The smell of coffee hit me and I hummed, wearily following it inside. Beau was in the kitchen, sipping on a cup of nearly white colored coffee and the thought to tease him hit me.
“You like to drink a lot of cream in the mornings do we Beau?” I said before I could help myself. Beau slurped it back, his annoyed smile letting the tightness in my chest relax.
“Only if he bought me dinner first,” he chuckled. “And yes, I like cream in my coffee. Sue me.”
“Leave some for the rest of us is all,” I said. He poured me a cup as I got out the carton, the two of us working around each other like we’d done it a million times. It was only when I sat at the kitchen island did I realize he was freshly showered and dressed, a badge and gun on his hip. “You going to work?”
“Yup,” he said, pouring more coffee in a travel mug. “I don’t get the most time off in the world and I’d rather save my vacation days for…”
Emily. In my head I saw a clear picture of her, a protective instinct towards her I’d only felt towards Sam before. Glancing at Beau though, I sensed it too and somehow, I knew it’d be there for Ben too.
“I’m so jealous of you,” I said. Beau fixed the cap on his mug while he worked on putting together a ham and turkey sandwich. “I mean…”
“You want to be a dad. I know. I feel like we’ve had this conversation before,” said Beau. “I get the feeling my daughter adores you and Ben.”
“The bastard has to have a soft spot somewhere,” I said. I glanced over my shoulder towards the front door, a pang of guilt rushing through my veins. “I can keep an eye on him.”
“I appreciate the gesture but Ben’s a big boy. He makes his own choices,” said Beau, sliding his sandwich into a baggie, tucking it away in a soft sided lunch box. “You guys probably have jobs too you ought to get to. Maybe check your rooms?”
“Good idea,” I said. I quietly watched him finish packing his lunch, Beau rinsing out his mug before placing it in the dishwasher. “I guess we’ll see you later today then.”
“Yeah. It’s friday last I knew so maybe we can order some pizzas, try to get to know each other?” I smiled, a small twinge of jealously in my gut again. “Sounds like a plan. Text if you need something.”
“Sure thing,” I said, watching him gather his things and start to head out. He froze halfway down the hall though, spinning around to look at me. His face was curious and bashful at the same time.
“When you say you fought monsters, that include demons?” he asked. I nodded, his eyes widening for a moment. “Does…does salt actually keep them away?”
I chuckled, looking him over. I liked Beau more and more. “It’s actually ghosts the salt works on. Demons you need either an enchanted amulet or something like that or an anti-possession warding.” I peeled down my shirt collar, revealing my tattoo. “Doesn’t seem like an issue in this world.”
“I’d rather not know the answer to that,” he said, smiling softly. “Later Dean.”
I nodded, the house quiet for a beat. I trudged upstairs, finding a bedroom that I instinctively knew was mine. It was the room the three of us had crammed in the night before, the memory of Ben shaking on the bathroom floor forcing an unpleasant ache.
Only Sam had ever elicited that ache.
But something about Beau, even Ben…it rushed in my blood, made me hope Beau got to work safely. Made me wish Ben didn’t have to endure that kind of fear.
“This is what I get for complaining that heaven was too fucking boring,” I mumbled. I opened a closet, eyes darting around for clues when I caught a pair of coveralls with my name stamped on the front. “I’m a mechanic? That tracks.”
My phone on the nightstand rang, an unflattering picture of Beau eating a plate of nachos popping up.
“Hey,” I said, flipping through the closet. “I think I’m a mechanic.”
“Actually it looks like you’re a firefighter. Your work badge is sitting on my passenger seat,” he said. “And uh, you’re probably going to be pissed but your name is Dean Arlen according to it.”
“It’s whatever,” I sighed, resigning myself to that fact I’d be spending the next forty years in this world. At least.
“Any luck on what Ben does?” I slipped out of the room, going to the one across the hall.
“Nope. I just checked…aw, this must be your daughter’s room. It’s so pretty. Will you be my dad?”
“No, idiot,” he laughed. “I might be oldest but-”
“No offense kiddo but I’m pretty sure I’m oldest,” I said, closing the door and heading down the hall.
“Tell you what? I’ll look up our birth records when I get to work. Loser has to make dinner.”
“You’re on, kid.”
“Asshole,” he mumbled. “I’ll drop your ID off at the firehouse, okay? It’s down the block from the station.”
“Ten four, Sheriff.” Beau sighed and hung up as I pushed open a door, this room neat and tidy, a framed children’s drawing on his dresser. I went to the only other room in the hallway, grimacing when I opened the door.
Ben’s room was a disaster. Clothes everywhere. A pungent smell of old spice in the air. There were beer cans and bottles on nearly every surface. I almost decided to give up and assume Ben didn’t have a job when a slip of paper on a covered desk caught my eye. I slipped inside, frowning at it.
“Guessing this one’s mine,” grumbled a voice behind me. I spun around, Ben walking in with a glass of something gross looking. He took a sip and closed his eyes. “We should get a maid.”
“Or you can clean up after yourself,” I said. He chuckled, his features dark. “Is that beneath you?”
“Listen,” he said, putting the glass down and walking up to me, pressing his chest against mine. I was not a small guy but this one…he had twenty pounds of muscle on me easily. He stared me down, narrowing his eyes. “I don’t know how they do things in your universe but in mine, people do what I say, understand?”
“We’re in Beau’s universe so tough shit. Here, you can be a damn man and clean up after yourself.” Ben leaned in close, smashing his nose against mine, a threat of violence in the air that reminded me of when I had the mark on my arm.
“Give me a reason to snap your neck, boy,” Ben growled. “Unlike that pussy cop, I don’t give two fucks about you or anyone else here.”
My instinct was to snap back, headbutt this asshole into the next century. But...if I couldn’t shake the feeling of giving a shit about these guys then that meant he couldn’t either.
“Then kill me Ben,” I said, raising my chin. “Go ahead. If you really don’t care, do it. I won’t even make it hard for you. Because I’ve died. I know where I’m going. You though? Something tells me you might end up going downstairs and trust me, you won’t like it one bit.”
Ben’s hand shot to my throat, a threat in the air. There was no pressure though, only his heavy pants in the air.
Suddenly it was gone, Ben storming across the room, throwing most of the things from the dresser onto the floor. Glass smashed against the hardwoods, items bouncing against the carpet before coming down with a hard thud. He kept his back to me, breathing heavily.
“I’ll take that as you aren’t going to kill me then,” I said. Ben mumbled something, shoulders shaking slightly. “Listen, you got crap? I get it. I get whatever the hell this is too. But it’s the twenty first century. You can get help and be a fucking man too. I have work. Can you survive on your own?”
“I don’t need a damn babysitter.” With a roll of my eyes, I left, going down to my own bedroom. After a minute, I wash changed into a fresh pair of jeans and had found a t-shirt with a fire emblem on it, one I assumed matched the fire station I worked for. I quickly grabbed a black flannel and a pair of white and dark olive green sneakers out of my closet, whistling to myself.
“You look new,” I said to myself, pleasantly surprised they fit so well. I jogged downstairs and noticed Beau had made up an extra pair of lunches while we were talking earlier, grabbing one and heading for the door.
“Wait.” I had my hand on the handle as heavy footsteps came downstairs, Ben changed into a baseball jersey and pair of tight jogger sweatpants. He slipped on a pair of sneakers in the tray by the door, staring at me. “Alright, let’s go, jackass.”
“I didn’t realize I was your fucking chaufer.”
“I’m drunk,” he growled. I nodded back at the kitchen.
“Beau made you lunch. Might as well take it before I drop you off wherever it is you’re going.”
“I’ll be back before then,” was all he said. Two minutes later we were on the road, driving in dead silence. For the first time I caught Ben smiling as we rode along in Baby, his hand running over the dash. “Ah. See this is a car I could drive. Don’t get me wrong. That cocksucker of a brother we have-”
“Don’t insult him.” Ben’s lips pressed into a thin line. “The man might not have fought monsters like I did or had super powers like you but he’s divorced with a teenage daughter. And he’s a cop, in charge of all the other ones. In charge of this town. The man is kind but don’t underestimate him. He’s got crap too. He’s us, remember?”
Ben crossed his arms and stared out the window for ten minutes until we hit the edge of town. I wasn’t sure where we were going but I let muscle memory guide me, eventually coming up to a small complex of doctor’s offices. Ben didn’t move when I leaned forward, recognizing the name on the sign from the letter on his desk.
“You’re an asshole,” I said. I saw his lip twitch up in the passenger mirror. “Go on before I kick your ass out. I got work.”
“You’re such a bitch,” said Ben, climbing out of the car and heading inside the building without a second glance. I shook my head, driving down the road for a few minutes, passing by Beau’s truck out front of the police station. I let instinct take over, eventually finding a fire station down the block. I found an empty spot out front and parked, inhaling sharply.
“Here goes nothing.”
Work was amazing. I wasn’t just a firefighter. I had seniority. I worked on arson investigations. I got to teach little kids on field trips all about fire safety. It was like tapping into these untouched parts of my brain. The more I let go, the more memories filled in. One’s about work, about Beau and Ben.
Maybe Sam had a point about forcing me to live a normal life like he’d been able to. I missed the hell out of him but I knew I’d see him again and for him, it wouldn’t be that long. In the meantime, I knew two guys that could do with my help right here.
“Howdy, Sheriff,” I said late in the day as Beau and the pretty female cop my brain told me was named Jenny pulled up to the scene of a small house fire. “We just put out that fire, Beau. What you doin’ bringing more hot things my way?”
Beau’s eyes glared as Jenny laughed, smacking my arm. “Oh, I love you Arlen boys. All of you are such flirts. Except Beau. That some sort of big brother thing?”
It was my turn for my face to fall as Beau threw his arm over my shoulder, giving me a tight squeeze. “It must be. My little brothers are such flirts. Especially the baby, isn’t that right, Dean?”
“By twelve minutes!” I said, dread filling my veins as a memory popped into my head. I so was not the baby brother. I hadn’t spent a lifetime of being Sam’s big brother to suddenly be thrust into baby brother status.
“Enjoy it, kid,” Beau whispered in my ear, slapping my back as he pulled away. “Everything settled here?”
“Space heater caused the fire. Minimal damage. No injuries,” I said, Jenny looking me up and down, a twinkle in her eye. “Jenny, you want to grab a drink after work?”
“I would but I have a hot date with Cassie. Unless you want to join us?”
“Sorry, Dean’s going to have to take a raincheck. We need a little guy time after the incident yesterday. Plus Dean has oh so graciously offered to make us dinner,” said Beau, narrowing his eyes when Jenny wasn’t looking.
“Right. How is Ben by the way?” she asked. “I thought rehab stuck this time.”
“It did for the drugs,” I said, my mind filling in a gap it didn’t know existed a split second before. “We’re still working on the drinking.”
“He’s cutting down,” said Beau as I found myself nodding along with him. We shared a concerned look, Jenny polite enough to not say anything.
“Well, I know he’s a big softie deep down. He’s making progress which is something,” she said, clearing her throat. “Beau, I’ll do a quick interview and write up the report.”
“Excuse me, are you volunteering to do paperwork? What demon are you being possessed by?” Beau teased. I stared at Jenny, probably too long, Beau grimacing behind her. “Uh, sure. Need a ride back to the station when you’re through?”
“Dean can give me a lift,” she said, a curious smile on her face.
“Alright. Dean, I’m ducking to the grocery store. You’re making me pizza tonight,” he said. He waved as he walked away, Jenny crossing her arms and staring after him.
“Your brother is something else,” she said, dipping her tongue out past her lips.
“Oh,” I said as it clicked. “You’re hot for your boss.” She grabbed my arm, quite hard for how small she was, dragging me around to the end of the fire truck.
“Dean, I told you I don’t know how I feel about Beau. I just…don’t say anything to him. Or Cassie or Ben or anybody, got it?” I held up my hands, Jenny letting out a small exhale.
“Can I ask a personal question?”
“Careful, Dean,” she said but nodded anyways.
“Why not me? What’s so different about Beau and me?” I asked. She smiled softly, resting her palm on my bicep.
“You’re sweet, Dean. A good friend. You boys are similar in ways but Beau’s friendship…it lifts me up if that makes sense. There’s a light to him that-”
“I understand,” I said, flashes of memories that weren’t my own but were popping into my head. “Beau’s the good brother, Ben’s the bad one and I’m the one that’s known for sleeping around.”
“You’re known for pushing women away when they start getting to close Dean. I know you boys have only been in town a year but I’d guess that’s who you’ve always been. It’s a shame. You’d really make someone happy if you just let yourself.”
Awesome. I was the same guy in this universe, just without a legitimate reason for being alone.
“Thanks, Jenny,” I said when she pursed her lips. “Honestly.”
“Life’s funny. It doesn’t mean it’s too late for anything,” she said, walking past me. “If you know what I mean.”
“Like you wanting to fuck my brother?”
“Shut up Arlen!” she said with a huff. “All you fucking men…”
I had the feeling Beau was still very much in love with his ex-wife. Yet…something told me Ben and I got on his back about Jenny. One man and two potential women to enjoy?
I’d rather deal with the devil all over again.
Ben
My head was fucking killing me and not just from the hangover. Everything was so fucking confusing. There was too much information in my head. It was too fucking much. I knew what the internet was and bluetooth and all those other fake fucking words Hughie had made up. Or I thought he’d made up.
I’d been gone almost forty years and in that time everything had changed so fucking much.
Funnily enough, I fucking enjoyed therapy. It turns out I wasn’t a complete piece of shit. If you don’t give a shit about everyone equally, you’re just an all around asshole which was a step up in my book.
But apparently my language was “inappropriate” or some shit. It “hurt” those around me. Like my brothers. Yeah right. Those two little shits would get hurt walking to the damn mailbox in my world.
Maybe not Dean. He seemed…angry in a way Beau wasn’t. But they were both still pussies by all standards.
It was getting late in the afternoon as I walked down yet another sidewalk in downtown, the air slightly cool. It must have been early fall based on the few trees starting to turn color.
“Hey Ben,” said a gorgeous woman with a small wave as she struggled to get her keys in the door. Cassie. She was Beau’s friend and by proxy, mine too.
“Hey,” I said, walking over, resisting the urge to comment on her ass as I took a box out of her arms.
“Thanks,” she said, opening up the shop door. “Today’s been a disaster. I can’t believe it’s already after three and I’m only now just getting in.”
“I bet,” I said, following her inside, trying very hard to keep my mouth shut. I mean this woman looked good. The old me from before Russia would probably already be screwing her over the desk by now.
“You’re abnormally quiet,” she said, taking the box from my arms. “And no flirting? I bet your interview didn’t go as bad as you think.”
“Interview?” I asked, Cassie rolling her eyes at me.
“You know, the one you were supposed to have today…the security thing?” Memories flashed in my mind about Beau and Dean pulling strings with a friend of theirs to get me an interview with a private security company. A job I could clearly recall not wanting in the first place.
“Oh. Yeah,” I said, catching a clock on the wall. This supposed interview was in less then fifteen minutes. “Doesn’t sound my style.”
She suddenly looked annoyed, setting the box on a counter off to the side. “Well I’m kind of busy so maybe you should go anyways.”
“Baby-”
“I have a boyfriend, Ben,” she said, narrowing her eyes. “Go to the interview for your brothers sake.”
“Whatever,” I said, leaving and walking once again. It only took five minutes to find the place I was supposed to go but I didn’t want a fucking job. The only job I’d ever had was being a supe. A movie star. Model. All of those I’d made the rules.
Anyone who tried to make me do anything other than what I wanted could get fucked.
One Hour Later
I took the fucking job. Why oh why did I say yes to that fucking job? Worst of all, they wanted me to start on Monday.
At the fucking daycare. They wanted me to work at a fucking daycare at the front desk. Me.
“Hey,” said Beau, pulling up to a stop on the street as I sat on a bench, a stack of black polos with the security logo stamped on them beside me. “You cool?”
“Just get me the hell home,” I grunted, grabbing the shirts and pilling into the passenger seat, grateful when he kept his mouth shut most of the way there.
“So uh, Cassie texted me.” I glared at Beau, his eyes on the road. “I guess you had a job interview?”
I mumbled the story to him, Beau making a surprised sound when I finished. “What’s that supposed to mean, dickhead?”
“Means they must like you, must think you have the capacity to deal with an environment full of kids all day,” grinned Beau.
I would have slapped him in the face if he hadn’t been driving.
“If I’m lucky I’ll die snorting coke off a whore’s tits before Monday,” I said, Beau frowning as we pulled up to the house.
“Don’t do that,” he said when I was halfway out the door. I rolled my eyes, Beau’s face so pathetic looking though that I closed the door and sat back in my seat.
“Why not? I don’t want to be here and the world don’t want someone like me in it. I was someone in my universe. Here I’m a mooching scumbag apparently. So who cares if I go out the fun way?”
“I do.” Beau shook his head at me, my annoyance growing. “God, Jack, whatever…that kid put you and Dean in my world for a reason. Dean, I get. He died young and this is a chance to live a normal life. Me? Maybe I do things differently and don’t bottle up my shit and move on from my ex. And you? Maybe you need to get rid of your superiority complex and learn to just be a normal person without superpowers or torture or whatever. So don’t do something stupid cause I will find you in the afterlife and I will kick your ass if you do.”
“Fine,” I grumbled. A minute later I was in my bedroom, frowning at the space. It was pretty fucking filthy. “Why don’t we have a fucking maid again?”
“Because we’re not rich,” said Beau as he walked past my open door. I heard him go into a bedroom and exit a moment later sans his firearm and badge, his shirt untucked. “Dean’s making homemade pizza when he gets in.”
“Good. I’m starving,” I said, following Beau downstairs. “How much to get you to clean my room?”
“What did I say to you not five minutes ago?” asked Beau, spinning around on the stairs, looking up at me. “Find a closet or bathroom. I’m sure there’s cleaning supplies in there.”
“Well I’ve never cleaned shit so how was I supposed to know that?” Beau raised his eyebrows. “What? I grew up rich and then got even richer.”
“Well I seriously doubt mom and dad would let you get away with not cleaning your room. Think and you’ll remember.” I frowned. Of course I knew how to fucking clean something. It didn’t mean I wanted to.
“Still stupid,” I mumbled.
“Ben,” said Beau, raising his voice. “I know you think you’re hot shit but you are a sorry excuse for a man. Start acting like one and maybe every conversation you have won’t be a fight.”
Beau went downstairs, leaving me standing there feeling for the first time in a very long time like maybe my dad had been right.
I really was a fucking disappointment.
I cleared my throat an hour later as I went downstairs to find Beau and Dean laughing in the kitchen. They turned their heads when I walked in, a strange awkwardness settling in my gut.
“I uh, cleaned my room,” I said, glancing at the three ready pizzas. “One of those for me?”
“Come on, man. You can make up your own,” said Dean. I settled next to him, looking at the different topping options. “I heard you got a job today.”
“Yeah,” I said, sprinkling some pepperoni on top of one.
“So what was it like growing up rich?” asked Dean. “Personally we had jack shit after I was four. Nice to know I was well off in one universe.”
“It was alright,” I said, Beau passing me a bowl of peppers and onions. “Actually it sucked. I was never good enough for my dad.”
“Been there, done that,” said Dean. “I mean, I made up with my dad eventually but it wasn’t until after he died.”
“My dad’s nice,” said Beau softly. “Our dad. You guys will like him.”
“I’m sure we will,” said Dean, nudging my ribs. “Hey. Even if he’s not perfect, beats being tortured for forty years, am I right?”
“You have a point.” I put some extra jalapeños on my pizza before I was done, Beau hopping up on the counter. Dean grabbed a few beers from the fridge, handing one to each of us and then putting the first pizza in the oven.
“So,” said Beau, taking a draw from his bottle. “I know this situation is kind of crazy but not gonna lie, I don’t mind having some company at home again. Em stays with her mom a lot lately.”
“I lived with my brother most of my life,” said Dean with a small smile. “It’s not half bad.”
They both glanced at me, waiting for me to share something personal. I resisted the voice at the back of my head screaming for me to snap an insult back at them.
“I’ve kinda always been on my own I guess,” I said, fiddling with the bottle in my hands.
“Well not anymore,” said Beau.
“Just stop calling us pussies all the time?” asked Dean, a smirk on his face.
“No promises,” I said, Dean slapping my back.
“Told ya you’d warm up to us,” he said. I rolled my eyes, Beau chuckling into his beer. “We’ll work on it.”
Beau held up his bottle, raising his chin. “To Ben working on his potty mouth.”
“To living in a world where we can have normal lives,” said Dean, lifting his. I tilted mine up, nodding once.
“To my new, weird as fuck, brothers.”
“I’ll drink to that,” said Dean, throwing an arm over my shoulders, a strange warmth filling me up. “Now who’s hungry?”
________
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"Bring Me To My Knees" PART 1
Crosshair/Hunter x Reader Non Gendered SMUT++
Dividers by the talented: @saradika and @4ngelic-wh1spers
Background: Reader and Crosshair are separated from the group during the rescue of Omega and Tech from Mt Tantiss. Two broken people trying to get by in the galaxy. Then two broken people finally dealing with what happened to their group.
Word Count: 2.3K
Warning: Star Wars Canon violence, angst, sadness, crying, guilt, stuff blowing up, swearing, kissing, intercourse, heavy petting, hair pulling kink, smutty/lemony content, lovers triangle with Hunter and Crosshair.
FOR CLARITY, THERE IS A HUNTER FLASHBACK SMUT SCENE IN THIS CHAPTER. THE CROSSHAIR SMUT SCENE IS IN CHAPTER 2. Broke this up in 2 chapters because I just couldn't stop writing...and 4K might be too much for one sitting.
*YES! I know Mesh'la is Mando'a speak for beautiful. However, I personally think it sounds pretty sexy when someone uses it while going to Pound Town. I like it better than baby, honey, girl, boy, lover, whatever. My personal kink. If you aren't caught up, there's a whole Tumblr discussion about if the Clones would even use this language. PLEASE just let me have this one word. Thanks.
I purposely wrote the reader in this fic to be of no specific gender. Tried to carefully craft the sexual scenes to accommodate either gender/non gendered/trans/genderfluid/non-binary. Everyone has hills, valleys, sexual organs, nipples, and erogenous zones. I wrote them into the story, but it's up to you dear reader to put your imagination to work. Hope I have done a good enough job that you can enjoy yourself with Hunter and Crosshair without breaking immersion!
Explosions and blaster fire filled the air as you, Phee Genoa, and The Batch escaped Mt Tantiss. Wrecker led the charge, firing away and punching imps. Phee behind him with a group of prisoners she freed from the facility. Hunter, his arm around Tech who was barely able to walk, blaster out firing. You and Omega supported Crosshair bringing up the rear of the group.
The Empire attempted to lock down the facility, engaging all doors on every level. Hunter got Tech past them as they started to close.
He turned with Tech in tow to shout, “Y/N, Omega, bring Crosshair! Hurry!!!”
You and Omega would never make it with the slow progress Cross was making. Grabbing Omega and with a healthy heft, you slid her across the highly polished flooring. She barely exited past the threshold just as the doors closed.
The last thing you and Crosshair saw was Omega loudly protesting while Hunter grabbed the back of her tunic to yank her out of the way. And the look of total panic on Hunter’s face.
“Leave me.” Crosshair weakly slumped against the steel hallway wall.
“SHUT UP! Too late for that!!!” You grabbed Cross’ arm and attempted to pull him up.
He refused to move. You were warned he might be difficult.
“GET UP NOW YOU FUCKING MOP!!!” Viciously kicking his upper thigh in heated frustration.
That got his attention. Crosshair’s head flicked up. Anger in his eyes.
You grabbed the front of his tunic with both hands, hefting him up, spitting with rage “I’M NOT DYING HERE! GET UP YOU UNGRATEFUL ASSHOLE!!!”
He managed to stand with his arm around your shoulders. Pulling your blaster. “How do we get out of here?”
“How should I know? Been locked up all this time.”
“KRIFF! Knew I threw the wrong person under the door!!!”
“Didn’t ask YOU to save me.”
You gritted your teeth and shot the control panel to the door the rest of The Batch disappeared through. The doors managed to only open a few feet. You literally stuffed Crosshair into the gap. His protests were muted by the sound of screams and explosions. He got stuck halfway through, then you put a foot in his ass and pushed. He popped through falling into a crouch on the floor.
“You’re INSANE!”
“YES! KEEP MOVING!!!”
Running up to Cross, you grabbed the back of his tunic and pulled him to his feet. Both of you ran across the hangar bay. The Marauder and Phee’s ship were gone. You weren’t upset, they HAD to leave in a hurry. It was total chaos.
You both made a beeline for the first empty Imperial ship available. Entering, you slid into the pilot’s seat and put up the gangplank. Then commenced firing on every non-friendly that approached. Some of the other Imperial ships got caught in the crossfire, exploding dramatically. Crosshair buckled himself into the co-pilot's chair.
As your ship left the hangar, two fighters followed in hot pursuit. You kept the craft low and entered the thick forest, shooting down trees in your path. Crosshair held onto his seat white knuckled.
“You’re going to get us killed!”
“Got any better ideas, Fly Boy? We’re sitting ducks out in the open.”
He shut up and held on.
One ship pulled away from pursuit.
The other followed. You kept firing, making a path to evade your pursuer.
He didn’t last long. One tree you felled, dragged another with it as you passed. It caught its wing, flinging the ship to the forest floor, exploding brightly behind you.
Pulling the craft up out of the forest, you ascended...
...where the other Imperial fighter sat waiting!
Close enough to see its pilot in the cockpit, waiting to open fire.
The end of the line. Crosshair inhaled sharply.
The ship exploded suddenly. And your craft flew through the fiery remains.
“Didn’t think I’d leave you?” Hunter’s voice came over the comm.
You nearly burst into tears of joy. “Oh, THANK STARS!”
“Let’s get out of here! Echo’s sending jump coordinates...” You immediately heard blaster fire over their comm. The transmission broke up.
“HUNTER???”
Static. “...ing to...GO! Can you hea...” More static. Comm went dead. Nothing.
“HUNTER! HUNTER...COME IN!!! CAN YOU HEAR ME???”
Crosshair shot you a horrified glance.
The little bit you could discern, your Sergeant’s orders were to leave the planet immediately. What if they needed help? You couldn’t leave HIM...them behind!
You brought the ship around and could see a craft trailing fire and smoke behind it. Looked to be the Havoc Marauder making its way off world. Several Imperial fighters were gaining on it. Kicking your ship into gear and taking off in their direction. You picked off two and allowed the Marauder to make the jump to hyperspace.
The last ship circled round.
Panicking, locking up, “Where did they go? I don’t have coordinates!”
Crosshair’s terse voice came from the co-pilot's seat, “Pick ANY! We don’t have time!!!”
“But...we...”
“DO IT or we die!” Dark eyes bore into your skull. “I’LL DO IT!!! You make the jump!” He furiously typed something into the craft’s dash.
“Jump...NOW!!!”
The Imperial fighter on your tail, firing.
You sat frozen. Your hand a lead weight on the jump lever.
“DAMMIT!” Crosshair slammed his hand on top of yours, shoving the lever over. The black star-studded sky elongated; bright blue light burst through the windscreen.
You sat staring through the windscreen of the ship, blue blurs whizzing past.
“Y/N?”
A hand suddenly on your shoulder.
“WHAT!” You jumped and snapped upright.
“You...went away for a while...”
Staring at Crosshair’s unreadable expression.
“We’ll find them. Take some time, though.”
Nodding, you relaxed back in the seat. “Yeah, gonna take some doing.”
Handing the soup bowl to Crosshair, he sulked...and refused to eat...again.
“You NEED to eat.”
He sneered.
“Don’t make me regret getting you out of that facility.”
Cross sighed heavily and took the bowl. He STILL wasn't eating, just staring into it. This man was driving you insane...if you didn’t kill him first.
“It’s actually pretty good for a ration packet. Provided you eat it while still warm.”
“Why are you bothering?”
ON YOUR LAST NERVE.
“Why did YOU bother pushing us into hyperspace...if you want to suffer and die so badly?”
Silence.
Suddenly you had the urge to slap the damned bowl out of his hand. “REALLY??? Let your skinny ass STARVE! Ungrateful son-of-a...kriffing...GAH! FUCK!!!”
Your sudden anger sparked something.
Crosshair slowly smirked.
“Knock it off and DRINK YOUR FUCKING SOUP!” Getting up, stalking off, mumbling angrily to yourself...hoping the tiny food galley didn’t have any knives.
Checking up later, you found the bowl empty. Cross slumped in the chair; eyes closed.
To anyone else, it would look like he was napping. You knew better.
You picked up the bowl to take it back to the galley.
“My compliments to the chef.”
You rolled your eyes.
“I meant it.”
“Whatever.”
Cross opened his eyes, aiming for an argument. “It’s a compliment. Take it or leave it.”
“I don’t trust you.”
An unexpectedly hurt expression flickered across his face. “This isn’t about the soup, is it?”
“No genius. I was warned you’re a constant shit stirrer.”
“Well, Hunter was never my biggest fan.”
“It wasn’t Hunter.”
This seemed to surprise Crosshair.
“Echo...he’s a bit of a shit stirrer himself. Takes one to know one.”
Cross raised an eyebrow.
“Oh...and Wrecker thinks you take yourself too seriously. I think his actual words were...he needs to unclench his butt cheeks.”
Raised the other eyebrow.
“But Wrecker was incorrect.”
“Oh?”
“As far as I can tell, you DON’T have an ass.”
Crosshair leaned forward, slight smirk around the edges of his mouth.
“Been looking...have you?”
“I think most people would say you’re just a torso with legs...Toothpick.”
He genuinely smiled at the new nickname.
“More soup?”
“Yes more, Soup.”
Nights were difficult and Crosshair struggled to sleep through. Awakening to hear him working through a nightmare. Sometimes he would mutter, groan, and thrash about, eventually snoring again. This happened several times a night. Other times he would awaken, panting and sweating, trying to remember he was no longer imprisoned on Mt Tantiss.
At first, he turned down your attempts to soothe him. That didn’t last long. It became a habit of you sitting next to his bunk on the metal floor, talking him through it. Eventually, you just crawled into bed and laid there next to him. It was certainly more comfortable than that damned hard floor.
Crosshair’s breathing settled into a regular rhythm. Stars, it was warm and cozy in this bunk. The idea of walking across that cold decking to your own bunk just seemed depressing. Five more minutes and you’d get up.
That didn’t happen. Two minutes in and you passed out cold.
(You like a song to go with the scene? Please check out this song. It "literally" FUCKS!!!)
"Mmhmmm...”
The deep bass of Hunter’s groan making you wetter as his hard cock slid in and out of you.
“Ohh...fuu...mmm...” Words were difficult when he kissed your neck like this. Whispering sweet things in your ear while gently fucking your brains out.
Laying on your sides, facing each other. One leg thrown over his hips, both of your hands deep in his curls. Grasping them with ferocity. The pain brought him pleasure...
Hunter slid his hand down your back to firmly grip your buttocks and picked up the rhythm of his thrusts.
“Kriff...can’t wait to do this...with you...in our home...all...the...fucking...time...” The last four words he spoke with each luscious stroke of his member.
“Huuunter...” Your eyes rolled back into your head.
“Got...a nice...little planet...just...for us...”
Heat and intensity rising in you.
“You...want...that...too...?”
...sliding in...
You gasp...” Yes...”
“Yeah?” Cajoling you with that sexy fucking voice.
...sliding out...
“YES...”
...sliding in...
“Tell me, Mesh’la.” He’s shuddering.
Your back arches “YES!!!”
Hunter reaches out and caresses your face...
...and you awake with a start. Crosshair had an expression like he’d been caught with his hand in the cookie jar. Pulling back his hand suddenly.
“Wu-what???” He stammered.
Trying to shake off your sleepy arousal...slurring. “Did...YOU jus’ touch...Mah face?”
“WHY are YOU still in my bunk?”
The dream-feeling melting away...your brain having to process the waking world...
“...because...your nightmares... I’m the dumbass...who makes sure you sleep.”
Silence. Crosshair studying your face.
“You’re welcome.”
“Well, I’m NOT having one NOW.”
“Ships cold during the night. Ain’t going nowhere.” You rolled over, giving him your back. Maybe...you could pick that dream back up?
“Fine. You can stay if YOU stop moaning Hunter’s name when you spoon ME!”
You rolled back over shocked.
“Yes, you did.”
“What else did I say...or do?”
Crosshair grinned like he knew too much and rolled over without answering.
Weeks passed as you and Crosshair bickered your way slowly through the galaxy. The Empire tamped down tightly on most of the planets in the system. The Outer Rim while wildly dangerous, seemed mostly untouched and safest.
You both did side jobs to keep yourselves fed while trying comm channels and leaving messages with close contacts about the rest of The Batch’s whereabouts.
Everything seemed to lead to a dead end. Like they just disappeared.
In your heart of hearts, you knew Hunter would NEVER stop looking for you both...even if Cross had his doubts.
The open-air market on some back water Outer Rim moon provided a distraction. The textile stand caught your eye. Beautiful scarves...you picked up a jet black one with fine silver metallic strands running through it.
"Good choice. It compliments your hair." The elderly shop keep stepped from behind a long quilt hanging behind the counter.
"Marv! Are you flirting again?" An older woman approached clearly teasing her husband.
"Now why would I do that when I have you, my sweet Meiloorun? Besides, here's their partner now."
Cross sauntered up to the counter, amused at the comment.
"Hello honey" He teased.
You rolled your eyes, ignoring his "greeting." "Toothpick, what do you think of this scarf?"
"Hmm, not really my style." Cross reached down to pull another scarf from under the pile. "Now this one..."
It was rusty red with fine intermittent broken off-white stripes dispersed through it. Crosshair draped it around his neck. "What do you think?"
The blood drained from your face.
"No..." You dropped the scarf and hurried away from the stand.
Cross caught up to you a few moments later...still wearing that damned scarf.
“Soup!”
You kept walking, angry...and hurt.
"Care to explain?"
Stopping and grabbing the fabric in your fist. "That's HIS scarf...NOT YOURS!
Cross softened. Not a trace of snark on his face. "You WERE in love with Hunter."
"We are STILL in a relationship, Crosshair! Just because Hunter and I are apart doesn't mean that ended."
Crosshair stared into your eyes with such an intensity...it was difficult to keep eye contact.
"So...I complicate those feelings." It wasn't a question. He didn't need to ask.
You noticed his eyes changed from brown to grey in this perfect light. The light of the sun starting to set on this backwater moon. Almost the same color as his brother's eyes.
You sighed deeply, letting go of the scarf. Your hand dropping to rest, open palmed on Crosshair's chest.
He stepped closer, placing his warm hand over yours.
“We’ll find them.”
“How? We’ve been looking...”
He squeezed your hand. “Marv and Mel...they’re a front for The Rebellion. Gathering intel and recruiting volunteers to fight the Empire.”
You looked up at Crosshair with renewed hope.
“They know where we can find Rex. He’ll be able to help us.”
You nodded. So many thoughts going through your head.
Cross took the scarf off and slid it over your head, to rest around your shoulders.
“C’mon Soup, there’s a place around here with those Space Cakes you like. My treat.”
He led the way hugging you closely.
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https://www.tumblr.com/skellymom/744276448825769984/bring-me-to-my-knees-part-2?source=share
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