you turn my ocean deepest blue (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
interjection) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
bakerstreet2015-09-18 02:07 pm
interjection) wrote in bakerstreet2015-09-18 02:07 pm
[Horrendously oblivious at best, she's more likely to be the one crushed on than the one crushing. Mutual crushing can be a thing though.]
Edited 2015-09-19 05:54 (UTC)
[Likely to be the one with the crush. One-sided or mutual, I'm good with both.]
[Could be the crush or crush-ee! Okay with both one-sided or mutual. No smut.]
m/f
Edited 2015-10-12 14:13 (UTC)
Edited 2015-09-19 11:57 (UTC)
Life in the bunker wasn't terribly hard to get used to: Rhys was always good at making himself at home wherever the opportunity presented itself. Being clean, warm, and dry was everything to him and everything else was just a bonus.
There were a lot of bonuses, too, but he was still working through those slowly. Books to catalog, artifacts to examine, and just plain weird shit that even he didn't know where to start with. But cool stuff to keep him busy, a bedroom of his own, a roomy bathroom and shower with excellent water pressure...Rhys is a surprisingly easy man to keep happy.
The big thing, though, was having roommates, and doing his best to prove he was useful to them. Research, first aid, all the things that boiled down to keeping the home fires burning.
And of course, pancakes with nothing suspicious in them: no buckwheat, no chia seeds, just good old fashioned maple-soaked, buttery goodness next to a pile of crispy bacon from the oven.
Rhys might not be much in a fight, but he definitely knows where his strengths lie.
There were a lot of bonuses, too, but he was still working through those slowly. Books to catalog, artifacts to examine, and just plain weird shit that even he didn't know where to start with. But cool stuff to keep him busy, a bedroom of his own, a roomy bathroom and shower with excellent water pressure...Rhys is a surprisingly easy man to keep happy.
The big thing, though, was having roommates, and doing his best to prove he was useful to them. Research, first aid, all the things that boiled down to keeping the home fires burning.
And of course, pancakes with nothing suspicious in them: no buckwheat, no chia seeds, just good old fashioned maple-soaked, buttery goodness next to a pile of crispy bacon from the oven.
Rhys might not be much in a fight, but he definitely knows where his strengths lie.
It had been interesting since Rhys had moved in. It had not been Dean's idea or plan for Rhys to move in - that was all on Sam. And for the first few days, Rhys' presence just seemed to irritate and annoy him. Perhaps because Sam and he never really had a home, at least until now. Hell, even Castiel and Charlie only visited, but Rhys had fully moved in.
This initial irritation would have went away on its own soon enough, but it was helped along by the fact that Rhys was extremely helpful. He kept the place clean, organized, could really help them out with researching all of the Men of Letters information, and best of all - the food.
Pancakes, actual real butter and maple syrup pancakes, and bacon. Had he not previously visited Heaven, he'd have sworn he was there. They were getting real food; not that health food Sam basically force fed him, and not the fast food that Dean was so accustomed to at this point in life; but real home-cooked meals.
Besides, if Rhys ever did annoy him, Dean could always just go to his room to get away and calm down - the same thing he did when Sam pissed him off, that or drive around for a while.
Tonight was a slow night; no cases. Sam was actually out on a date for a change, and Dean was hanging out on the couch in the Bunker - watching some movies and enjoying a beer.
This initial irritation would have went away on its own soon enough, but it was helped along by the fact that Rhys was extremely helpful. He kept the place clean, organized, could really help them out with researching all of the Men of Letters information, and best of all - the food.
Pancakes, actual real butter and maple syrup pancakes, and bacon. Had he not previously visited Heaven, he'd have sworn he was there. They were getting real food; not that health food Sam basically force fed him, and not the fast food that Dean was so accustomed to at this point in life; but real home-cooked meals.
Besides, if Rhys ever did annoy him, Dean could always just go to his room to get away and calm down - the same thing he did when Sam pissed him off, that or drive around for a while.
Tonight was a slow night; no cases. Sam was actually out on a date for a change, and Dean was hanging out on the couch in the Bunker - watching some movies and enjoying a beer.
Rhys was even considerate enough of his roommates that he barely ever walked around shirtless. They all had their own spaces and that went a long way toward sanity. Rhys could hang out and be sociable, or hole up in his room with headphones and incense. The bunker had lots of space and that went a long way toward avoiding bloodshed over radio stations or the last cinnamon roll.
Rhys fully expected the moment they were all in the car together for any length of time, they'd be at each others' throats, but this worked so far. Paying the rent by cooking and keeping house had gotten Rhys out of trouble a lot of times, and it was something he enjoyed.
He was useful and that made him happy.
And tonight, with things quiet he's feeling sociable. Barefoot and in track pants and a tank top, he leans over the back of the couch close enough to talk, but not close enough to startle. "Anything good on?"
Rhys fully expected the moment they were all in the car together for any length of time, they'd be at each others' throats, but this worked so far. Paying the rent by cooking and keeping house had gotten Rhys out of trouble a lot of times, and it was something he enjoyed.
He was useful and that made him happy.
And tonight, with things quiet he's feeling sociable. Barefoot and in track pants and a tank top, he leans over the back of the couch close enough to talk, but not close enough to startle. "Anything good on?"
Dean's dressed in typical Dean attire: dirty pair of boots resting on the coffee table, dark blue jeans, and a dark red flannel shirt that's unbuttoned to reveal a plain white t-shirt underneath. He does love the layers of clothing, part of his style, even when relaxing at home. He glances over at Rhys briefly, then back to the tv. "Game shows." Dean states. There's a pause, before he shifts, making more room on the couch if Rhys feels like joining him.
He wrinkles his nose. "Not even one of those crazy Japanese gameshows, huh?" He doesn't approve of the boots on the table (given he's barefoot every chance he gets anyway), but the flannel? That he's perfectly on board with. He thoroughly approves of the rugged sort, and the fact that flannel is both comfy and practical is a great bonus.
Rhys is happy to take the invitation and he plops down on the couch, pulling his legs up under him to sit cross-legged. "It's funnier when they drink a gallon of tea and then fight for the bathroom. Not even any good movies on?"
Rhys is happy to take the invitation and he plops down on the couch, pulling his legs up under him to sit cross-legged. "It's funnier when they drink a gallon of tea and then fight for the bathroom. Not even any good movies on?"
"Not really a fan of Japanese game shows." Dean states, but Rhys is right, there has to be something better than game shows on. He starts flipping channels, pausing on a guilty pleasure show of his; Doctor Sexy. He smiles for a second, but then his brain reminds him that Rhys is in the room, and it's bad enough that Sam knows he likes this show - Rhys doesn't need to know about that too. The channel is swiftly changed.
"Cookin' shows... CSI... documentary we won't be watching cause Sam's not here..." Dean reads off the shows as he goes. He stops then on a movie that's been edited to hell and back so it could be shown on basic cable, and glances over at Rhys to gauge his reaction to the action flick.
"Cookin' shows... CSI... documentary we won't be watching cause Sam's not here..." Dean reads off the shows as he goes. He stops then on a movie that's been edited to hell and back so it could be shown on basic cable, and glances over at Rhys to gauge his reaction to the action flick.
Rhys actually perks a bit, too, not being above Dr. Sexy, but lets Dean flip past it- maybe that one's for when they've got a few more beers in them.
"I'll take it," he agrees cheerfully. He would have taken the documentary, too, but he'll spare Dean the boredom and it's better than a stupid sitcom both of them hate. "Next on the agenda: hack us a Netflix account. I have no idea what we'd watch, but it's one of those things that I kind of feel that we're entitled to as protectors of humanity." He gives a leisurely stretch, getting comfortable.
He's here for the company more than the entertainment, because it gets too quiet down here. And he can think of worse company than Dean, no matter how grumpy he might be at times.
"I'll take it," he agrees cheerfully. He would have taken the documentary, too, but he'll spare Dean the boredom and it's better than a stupid sitcom both of them hate. "Next on the agenda: hack us a Netflix account. I have no idea what we'd watch, but it's one of those things that I kind of feel that we're entitled to as protectors of humanity." He gives a leisurely stretch, getting comfortable.
He's here for the company more than the entertainment, because it gets too quiet down here. And he can think of worse company than Dean, no matter how grumpy he might be at times.
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