How to Play [ Comment with your character and preferences. ] [ Reply to others, using the RNG to determine your fate. ] [ Feel free to be as serious or as self-aware as you'd like. ] Prompts
1. Love at First Sight...or, at least, Interest. Hey little mama, let me holla at you. 2. Gradual. Your interest in this person is growing after getting to know them. 3. Excitement and FREAKING OUT. Oh my gosh, there's absolutely nothing you'd rather do than spend time with this person you want everything to be perfect oh gosh oh gosh. 3. Hormonal. Girls are so weird but they look so nice. 4. BFF to BF Your friendship is becoming/has become more than that. 5. Secret Crush You can't let you liking the head cheerleader or the king's daughter get out. It would be a disaster. 6. What is this...Love Thing? I don't understand love. What is love, baby don't hurt me --- 7. Unacceptable Your brain is betraying you and making you have gross emotions towards that person. 8. You Totally Like [blank]. Everybody knows your little secret. Guess it's not a secret, then. 9. MY LIFE IS OVER. You embarrassed yourself, so clearly no one will ever love you ever again. 10. Grouchy. Or Stunted. Remember how I said not just silly kids can get crushes? This is for all the adults who are finally feeling that fluttery feeling in their chest. 11. Dumb Shows of Affection. You want to show how much you care. These thoughtful gestures can range from not-so-dumb (she likes cookies, I'll buy her one!) to really dumb (I'LL BUY HER A LIFETIME SUPPLY OF COOKIES). 12. Forbidden Attraction. Everyone knows exes are off-limits. It's, like, the first rule of feminism. Also included are siblings of best friends, best friends, and cute people in general. 13. Ridiculously Over the Top. SHMOOPY POOPY CUDDLE BEAR! All sorts of pet names and inappropriate PDA here. 14. Fluffy Moments. Not necessarily dates, but just hanging out and having fun together. 15. Confession. I REALLY LIKE YOU PLEASE GO OUT WITH ME I carved this rock with my bare hands for you. Or maybe something more subtle. 16. Unwitting Object of Affection. Usually an older party or someone completely uninvolved with this malarky, but crushes know no bounds. 17. Adorable Kisses. Please don't let me miss, please don't bump noses... 18. Sloppy Makeouts. Put on "Stairway to Heaven" and go to town. 19. Arguments. You jerk! Look what you've done! I never want to see you again. 20.First Time Obligatory smut option, touch a boob, etc. 21. ANYTHING ELSE
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.
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?"
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?"
"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.
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.
"Protectors of humanity?" Dean smirks at Rhys for a moment, then back to the TV. Saving people and hunting things was the family business, but that was before angels and demons, before Lucifer, before both he and Sam experienced torture, evil, heaven, and hell in the truest sense of all of those words. Before losing so many friends and family members. Dean doesn't say any of this, just gives a heavy sigh and stares blankly at the TV.
He's not actually watching the TV, he's mentally cutting himself down, a regular hobby of his. Sam, Cas, Charlie, Bobby before they lost him - they all tried to get him to see the good in himself, but Dean's never been good at that. He takes a drink of beer and tries to clear his thoughts.
Rhys chuckles quietly, but it's a tired sound. He hadn't been there for a lot of it, drifting in and out of the Winchesters' lives the way he did, but he had his own burdens and losses. Sometimes they won, sometimes they didn't.
And he stuck around because he saw the toll it took on the guys. Rhys couldn't always be the front line, but he could try and play support, giving them something warm and stable.
"It seems like decent TV would be the least we could ask for," he adds, but the tone is different now and he feels it. Anyone who knows Dean even a little knows that look- and it's one of the things that Rhys both loves and hates about him. That the big hunter cares enough to stress like that...but that his life is cursed enough that he loses that much.
That does get a faint smirk from Dean, and it grows to a full smirk in fact a moment later. "Yeah, you'd think." he sets his beer aside for now. Dean takes his feet down from the coffee table (probably to Rhys' relief) and stretches, working to push back his memories and emotions once again.
"So, other than crappy TV, how's bunker life treatin' you so far? Sam and I've been so busy, don't think I asked you yet."
Rhys tilts his head to look at Dean, considering for a few seconds before he answers. "Big. It's a lot to get used to." He leans on his folded legs. Yes, he's happy that Dean's feet are off the table, but honestly it wouldn't bother him if Dean would just take his boots off, first. "Plenty to keep me busy, though it gets a little too quiet in here sometimes."
He's not miserable. Far from it. But he's also perfectly comfortable being honest with Dean. He's warm, and clean, and fed, and he's doing good things and that makes him happy. Everything else is just...adapting. "I guess it's just strange not being in crowds all the time. I'm not used to being able to hear myself think."
Dean nods with a slight tilt of his head, "Yeah, guess so. Was for us too. First home we've had since we were kids." He sits up. "One major drawback? No room service, have to actually make my own bed." he smiled at that though, he didn't seem to actually mind it.
He focuses on what Rhys says then. "I can understand that." Dean and Sam used to be so busy traveling around, hunting, that the times they had to themselves were few and far between - fewer still outside of the Impala. "You can come along on our next case." Dean offers, knowing staying in the bunker can certainly get boring. He's completely lost focus on the tv at this point.
"Has its benefits, though. At least you've got a place to keep your winter clothes and porn, right?" He grins, quick and disarming. Shame isn't something that most people associate with Rhys, and when he's preoccupied about something? He smiles. He flirts and teases and does his own version of the Winchester stoicism. "You aren't paying me quite enough for breakfast in bed, though."
He rolls his head back, unfolds his legs and gives a long stretch. "You know me, I'll go where I'm needed. I can keep out of trouble, if a third will help you guys." His smile is quieter now, a little tired. He may not be much of a fighter, but he's smart, he's easy to talk to, and he's psychic enough to play human weird detector.
He looks around, and briefly at the TV they're both ignoring, then back at Dean. Who tries so damn hard, and Rhys appreciates it. "Just something to get used to, y'know?"
Disarming indeed; good job Rhys, you got Dean to legitimately smile. "Well, those are the important things in life, right?" He grabs up his beer and takes another drink. Perfect chance to refocus on the tv, but instead continues to ignore it - his interest still with Rhys.
"Should have asked you to move in the minute we found this place." Dean states after his drink, holding on to the bottle for now though.
A smile on a Winchester is never long-lasting of course, and Dean's quickly on his way back to that aforementioned stoicism. "Yeah, yeah it is. You've been a lot of help too man." Dean is quick to add, "No, I mean it, you really have been." And Dean's drank enough at this point for the alcohol to start allowing him to be more honest and open than he typically would be. "Not just, you know, the cleaning and stuff. It's just nice having you around." And he then smiles again, far more subtle this time though, but clearly noticeable.
"The little things that make it all worthwhile, right?"
It's a small shift in Dean's expression, but it's warming. The way the lines crease around his eyes and those big shoulders ease.
It makes something in Rhys ease, too: knowing that he's done something good. That he's making a difference, and he's glad to see Dean smile. None of them seems to laugh enough these days. He twists to face Dean more directly, big blue eyes honest. "Hey. The things you guys do, the shit you've been through...you deserve a break, and some good things. And I like being here. I feel like...it's something important, like it matters, and that means a lot to me."
Of course, it also helps that the company is easy on the eyes, and that he could listen to Dean reading the phone book and be happy, with that whiskey voice of his, but Rhys isn't quite shameless enough to mention that, at the moment.
It could be possible that Dean is actually relaxing, and that Rhys is the reason for that. An interesting blend of appreciation and solemnity that only a Winchester could pull off is written all over Dean's face; his eyes focused on Rhys blue eyes - he can tell the mage isn't just saying that, he actually means it. "You think so?" Dean has to pull his gaze away from those eyes. He shrugs and looks off into space. "Just feels like we take a step forward, and about a million steps back every time we go on a case. We'll gank a monster, but one of us gets hurt, killed, or cursed."
He takes another drink, sets the bottle down on the coffee table, and then leans back in his seat. A moment or two pass, and Dean turns to face Rhys again, eyes locking again. Those eyes. Damn. They're easy to get lost in. His words are just as comforting and alluring. Someone thinks they're making a difference, that it matters, that they matter - that he matters.
Dean isn't typically one for outward emotional expressions, but he reached a hand over and pats Rhys' knee closest to him in appreciation.
Rhys might be good at the occasion bullshit, but when it matters, he's always straightforward. It's part of his charm...when it doesn't make a person want to strangle him.
"It's a hell of a job, and as long as you guys have been at it? It wears you down." He gives a brief shrug. "Sometimes, you need to hear that it matters. The people you help, and all the shit that you go through to do this." There's just enough weight in his eyes to show it's not just words: for all his cheery demeanor, Rhys has had his share of hardship, too. Nothing he ever talks about, but...there's loss and bad choices there, too. The Hunter's life always leaves its mark, even if it's not on a scale as grand as the Winchester curse.
The pat is too short and Rhys wishes that he would have left his hand there. It's one of the little things he misses, and the idea of curling up against Dean's side while he watches TV is incredibly appealing, but..boundaries. "And sometimes in all that, when it's beating the shit out of you, it's good to hear that you make a difference. And that you *are* allowed to have good things, once in a while."
Yeah, Dean's not typically the more emotional one. He keeps that inside until a point where he absolutely can't - and then in those cases it turns into a rage instead. But Rhys is saying exactly what Dean needs to hear, and has been needing to hear for a long time. For a second, he was about to make a joke, roll his eyes, or anything. But those eyes, damn. He could feel the conviction of Rhys' words in his eyes, and he had to turn away from them.
"Yeah, well..." he went quiet, left speechless by the other hunter.
It's Rhys's job to know people. Healer, empathy, hunter...survivor, it's in his nature to be thoughtful and observant, to understand what makes people tick. It limits him when it comes to violence, but when it comes to dealing with people, it makes him good.
And he genuinely gives a damn about Dean and Sam. Enough to see where they start to break, and want to fix it. And to know that, as much a mess as it is, they will do their best for him, too. That kind of faith isn't something Rhys is used to, in his rough life.
So he just smiles back, a little tired but completely sincere. "Wouldn't be here if I didn't think it was worth it. If you weren't worth it."
"Damn it Rhys." Dean says, but the words lack the usual strength Dean would give them. Dean is looking away from Rhys still, especially after he says that. He contemplates getting up, and almost does, but no - that would be rude, and Rhys doesn't deserve that, especially after saying everything he did.
He chuckles quietly, and shakes his head. Dean is a little tipsy and Rhys is..just Rhys. But he's said what he wanted to, and he knows Dean and sentiment aren't exactly on normal speaking terms. So he pulls his long legs back up under him, crosslegged, to give the other man his space.
Just buddies. Just roommates, no matter what kind of life they happen to be coping with. Rhys has never made a secret of the fact that he's attracted to both genders, but he's also never pushed attention on someone who didn't want it.
"S'okay." He does look back at Dean, though. "This life, you know? You learn to say the important things, and then...well, life as usual."
Dean had set his bottle of beer down by this point, looking over at Rhys. Thanks t being tipsy though, the hunter did grab onto Rhys' hand and pull him in closer for a hug. "Come here man" he hugged Rhys, and patted him on the back, but did not break the hug, instead he relaxed into it and smiled.
It's a good hug, not a bro hug that's just two quick thumps on the back, and Rhys snuggles into it, soaking up the affection. Dean might be tipsy, but Rhys has still never known him to say something he doesn't really mean, and it's good, that feeling that someone's *got* him.
It's not a feeling Rhys has had often in his life. And as dangerous as life might be with the Winchesters, he has faith in Dean to do his damnedest to look after him. That means a lot to a guy that's been fending for himself since the rainy night cover ten years ago when his father threw him out in the street.
Yeah, the Winchesters aren't the only ones with the family issues thing, which is probably part of why Rhys gets them, or thinks he does.
"Hey, someone's gotta keep you out of trouble," Rhys cracks against Dean's shoulder, just as reluctant to let go. It's a much better way to watch a movie, as far as he's concerned.
Dean's smiling, the hug feels nice. he makes a mental note that he should hug more often. But the second that mental note is written, it's crumpled up and tossed out as a bad idea - even while drunk. Except with Rhys. He's already hugging him after all, so what's the harm in holding on a bit longer?
"Nice to know someone's got my back." The hug lasts at least a solid minute longer, but then Dean relaxes, even drunk Dean is worrying he may be freaking Rhys out. "Sorry. been a while since I hugged someone." a smirk.
"You should do it more often. It's therapeutic." He nods sagely, peering up at Dean. He's absolutely not objecting to how long Dean's holding on, and in his opinion this is not a bad way to pass the rest of the evening. It's warm and safe and the first time the Bunker's really felt like home since he got here...that something that was missing.
But he also knows Dean is Dean, so he lets him ease away with a little contented sound. "If you ever want the practice, we'll get you a Free Hugs T-shirt. You'll have a line." He gives him a sly look, dark eyebrows raised. Because of course Rhys has noticed that Dean is hot- especially when he smirks like that.
That mental not about hugging? Well, Dean's subconscious may be ironing it back out. The mage has a magic all of his own, getting Dean to relax his barriers. Dean may put out a confident stance, but anyone who really knows him, knows that inside he gets scared, worried, and nervous just like anyone else - he just knows he has to keep that side of him hidden. Why? Because, he's always had to. He's the older brother, he had to be brave and strong for Sam - hell, sometimes even for their dad's sake too.
Rhys though, he doesn't need to be strong around him, he can relax - be open and honest. "A line? Heh, maybe." the smile remaining on his face, then adds, "Would you be at the front of that line?"
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bakerstreet2015-09-18 02:07 pm
2 works perfectly :)
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.
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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?"
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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?"
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"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.
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"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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He's not actually watching the TV, he's mentally cutting himself down, a regular hobby of his. Sam, Cas, Charlie, Bobby before they lost him - they all tried to get him to see the good in himself, but Dean's never been good at that. He takes a drink of beer and tries to clear his thoughts.
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And he stuck around because he saw the toll it took on the guys. Rhys couldn't always be the front line, but he could try and play support, giving them something warm and stable.
"It seems like decent TV would be the least we could ask for," he adds, but the tone is different now and he feels it. Anyone who knows Dean even a little knows that look- and it's one of the things that Rhys both loves and hates about him. That the big hunter cares enough to stress like that...but that his life is cursed enough that he loses that much.
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"So, other than crappy TV, how's bunker life treatin' you so far? Sam and I've been so busy, don't think I asked you yet."
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He's not miserable. Far from it. But he's also perfectly comfortable being honest with Dean. He's warm, and clean, and fed, and he's doing good things and that makes him happy. Everything else is just...adapting. "I guess it's just strange not being in crowds all the time. I'm not used to being able to hear myself think."
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He focuses on what Rhys says then. "I can understand that." Dean and Sam used to be so busy traveling around, hunting, that the times they had to themselves were few and far between - fewer still outside of the Impala. "You can come along on our next case." Dean offers, knowing staying in the bunker can certainly get boring. He's completely lost focus on the tv at this point.
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He rolls his head back, unfolds his legs and gives a long stretch. "You know me, I'll go where I'm needed. I can keep out of trouble, if a third will help you guys." His smile is quieter now, a little tired. He may not be much of a fighter, but he's smart, he's easy to talk to, and he's psychic enough to play human weird detector.
He looks around, and briefly at the TV they're both ignoring, then back at Dean. Who tries so damn hard, and Rhys appreciates it. "Just something to get used to, y'know?"
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"Should have asked you to move in the minute we found this place." Dean states after his drink, holding on to the bottle for now though.
A smile on a Winchester is never long-lasting of course, and Dean's quickly on his way back to that aforementioned stoicism. "Yeah, yeah it is. You've been a lot of help too man." Dean is quick to add, "No, I mean it, you really have been." And Dean's drank enough at this point for the alcohol to start allowing him to be more honest and open than he typically would be. "Not just, you know, the cleaning and stuff. It's just nice having you around." And he then smiles again, far more subtle this time though, but clearly noticeable.
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It's a small shift in Dean's expression, but it's warming. The way the lines crease around his eyes and those big shoulders ease.
It makes something in Rhys ease, too: knowing that he's done something good. That he's making a difference, and he's glad to see Dean smile. None of them seems to laugh enough these days. He twists to face Dean more directly, big blue eyes honest. "Hey. The things you guys do, the shit you've been through...you deserve a break, and some good things. And I like being here. I feel like...it's something important, like it matters, and that means a lot to me."
Of course, it also helps that the company is easy on the eyes, and that he could listen to Dean reading the phone book and be happy, with that whiskey voice of his, but Rhys isn't quite shameless enough to mention that, at the moment.
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He takes another drink, sets the bottle down on the coffee table, and then leans back in his seat. A moment or two pass, and Dean turns to face Rhys again, eyes locking again. Those eyes. Damn. They're easy to get lost in. His words are just as comforting and alluring. Someone thinks they're making a difference, that it matters, that they matter - that he matters.
Dean isn't typically one for outward emotional expressions, but he reached a hand over and pats Rhys' knee closest to him in appreciation.
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"It's a hell of a job, and as long as you guys have been at it? It wears you down." He gives a brief shrug. "Sometimes, you need to hear that it matters. The people you help, and all the shit that you go through to do this." There's just enough weight in his eyes to show it's not just words: for all his cheery demeanor, Rhys has had his share of hardship, too. Nothing he ever talks about, but...there's loss and bad choices there, too. The Hunter's life always leaves its mark, even if it's not on a scale as grand as the Winchester curse.
The pat is too short and Rhys wishes that he would have left his hand there. It's one of the little things he misses, and the idea of curling up against Dean's side while he watches TV is incredibly appealing, but..boundaries. "And sometimes in all that, when it's beating the shit out of you, it's good to hear that you make a difference. And that you *are* allowed to have good things, once in a while."
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"Yeah, well..." he went quiet, left speechless by the other hunter.
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And he genuinely gives a damn about Dean and Sam. Enough to see where they start to break, and want to fix it. And to know that, as much a mess as it is, they will do their best for him, too. That kind of faith isn't something Rhys is used to, in his rough life.
So he just smiles back, a little tired but completely sincere. "Wouldn't be here if I didn't think it was worth it. If you weren't worth it."
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"Thanks Rhys." and he forces himself to face him.
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Just buddies. Just roommates, no matter what kind of life they happen to be coping with. Rhys has never made a secret of the fact that he's attracted to both genders, but he's also never pushed attention on someone who didn't want it.
"S'okay." He does look back at Dean, though. "This life, you know? You learn to say the important things, and then...well, life as usual."
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It's not a feeling Rhys has had often in his life. And as dangerous as life might be with the Winchesters, he has faith in Dean to do his damnedest to look after him. That means a lot to a guy that's been fending for himself since the rainy night cover ten years ago when his father threw him out in the street.
Yeah, the Winchesters aren't the only ones with the family issues thing, which is probably part of why Rhys gets them, or thinks he does.
"Hey, someone's gotta keep you out of trouble," Rhys cracks against Dean's shoulder, just as reluctant to let go. It's a much better way to watch a movie, as far as he's concerned.
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"Nice to know someone's got my back." The hug lasts at least a solid minute longer, but then Dean relaxes, even drunk Dean is worrying he may be freaking Rhys out. "Sorry. been a while since I hugged someone." a smirk.
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But he also knows Dean is Dean, so he lets him ease away with a little contented sound. "If you ever want the practice, we'll get you a Free Hugs T-shirt. You'll have a line." He gives him a sly look, dark eyebrows raised. Because of course Rhys has noticed that Dean is hot- especially when he smirks like that.
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Rhys though, he doesn't need to be strong around him, he can relax - be open and honest. "A line? Heh, maybe." the smile remaining on his face, then adds, "Would you be at the front of that line?"
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