I don't know about you guys, but I cannot stop thinking about Batcave fic. Bathrobe and fancy aged liquor and possible bubble bath and stacks of books and secret doors etc!
Please prompt and write/art. I want to make more batcave stick figure art and stuff.
( Read more... )
Please prompt and write/art. I want to make more batcave stick figure art and stuff.
( Read more... )
It's not a thing. Really. Dean doesn't like romance. He's a guy, seriously. It's just that there's no TV, and he's gone through his skin mags so many times they're boring, and every single book in this place is some ridiculously dry historical account.
Except for this one shelf, wedged into the corner and only waist-high. It took Dean about a week to find it, and it was crammed so full of these thin pink books that some of them were sticking out at an angle. Dean had carefully pried one of them free and surreptitiously tucked the little corner that had ripped off under the shelf. On the cover was a shirtless man standing over a pretty woman in a dress, and it took Dean a half second to realize what he was looking at. Lisa'd had a bookshelf full of these. Weird to find them here. Dean set the book on the top of the shelf and walked away and didn't think anything more of it.
That was the plan, at least. It lasted about a day and a half.
Dean's read probably a third of the books by now, and they're not all the same at all. There are some bigger ones in the back with serious court politics and shit, and he'd barely gotten through one before putting them at the back of the reading priority list. Then there are others where a nice girl falls for a rugged badass dude, and Dean kinda likes to imagine that it's him. There are others that kind of remind him of Sammy, and even though it's not even the same time period when they finally get their happy ending Dean gets this lump in his throat as he reads but he can't look away. He's got a couple of books that he'll come back and reread sometimes, and he puts these carefully against the bottom left part of the shelf where he'll always know where they are. Not that he likes them. Just, they're better than nothing.
It's those books that do him in, in the end. Sam and him have settled into a routine, of all things, over the last few weeks. Dean's taken to slipping out of bed around 5am and making his way to the little bookshelf by memory. He fits the book he's finished into a sliver of space on the top shelf and traces his way down to his special section. He doesn't even need light, really, because the book he's looking for is the first one he put in that section and it's right up against the edge. Except it's not tonight. Dean frowns and feels around a little, but the only book next to the edge is like half an inch thicker and doesn't have that fabric-smooth worn edge on the spine. And there's definitely a space to the left of it. Dean digs out a pocket flashlight and flicks it on, examining the section.
There's no way he misplaced that book. Someone else took it. And there's only one other person in the bunker.
~ * ~
Dean spends an ungodly amount of time thinking about it. Because Sam took his book. It's the only explanation. But he can't just go sneaking into Sam's room looking for it, because Dean has made damn sure that Sam doesn't sleep through anyone entering his room unexpectedly. And then he'll have to explain what he's doing there, and if Sam doesn't have the book he will never live it down. Even if Sam does have the book he won't live it down, because it's one thing for Sam to read girly books. Sam does stuff like that. But Dean's got a reputation to uphold. And anyway, where does Sam get the right to go messing around with Dean's bookshelf? And how long has he known about it? He's got all his precious history books to keep him busy, he doesn't need to go around stealing Dean's.
"Dude, I can practically hear you pacing in here. What's wrong?"
Dean starts a little and whirls around to see Sam looming in the doorway, one hand on each side. He's got this look on his face like he thinks Dean is a little crazy, and shut up he's not. He gives Sam a suspicious once-over, trying to detect signs of book-stealing. "Nothing."
~ * ~
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Clearly the only solution is to catch Sam in the act. Dean takes out the weapons bag from its place by the door, collects all the old swords and knives he's found around the bunker, and mumbles something about cleaning them to Sam as he sets up in a room upstairs. A room with a view of the sitting room, and Dean's been able to clean the weapons without looking since he was sixteen. He is a genius.
Especially since Dean knows what book Sam has. Sam thinks he can go the whole day without reading it and keep his book-stealing ways secret, but Dean knows better. You can't just put that thing down for a whole day. Lady Danielle gets into some serious shit in that book, no way Sam is going to resist finding out what happens next. And he's right. Maybe two hours later Dean is spinning a knife around absently and Sam starts tapping his fingers restlessly against the table. He starts shifting around. He glances up on to the balcony, but of course Dean has cleverly placed himself out of sight. Then he gets up and shuffles over to the bookshelf behind him and pulls a thin, familiar-looking novel out from behind two thick tombs.
Dean springs to his feet and leans over the balcony railing, pointing the knife accusingly. "I knew it!"
Sam startles and shoves the book behind his back. "Dean! I, uh, was just looking for a reference."
"Reference my ass! You stole my fucking book!"
"Your book?" Sam's looking at him with that thoughtful face, and shit. Dean hadn't meant to say that.
"Uh."
Sam's got the book out in front of him again, and there's a long moment where the two of them just stare. Sam cracks first, a grin spreading slowly across his face. Not a mocking grin. It's that smile that he gets when he's just happy. "So you've been reading these, too?"
"Uh." But Sam's not done talking.
"This whole time I thought you'd give me hell for these, and you've been reading them too?" Well, when Sam put it that way. Dean's having a hard time holding back a grin of his own, even though, really, it isn't that funny. Sam starts laughing. Collapse to the floor with an arm around his belly laughing, and Dean's not far behind him. They laugh for over half a minute, and then Dean almost loses his balance against the rail and ends up in an awkward crouch and it starts up all over again.
It's not that funny, really. But it kind of is.
End.
A/N: Do not have a clue what happens in Victorian romance. Also, I don't even know where this came from. It wasn't supposed to be this long. Also this takes place in, like, a zombie apocalypse S8 AU, because apparently outside libraries don't exist anymore.
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Perfect line is perfect. A lovely story! I'm smiling :).
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AWWWWW.
This is lovely. Boys + books is a win-win combination. :)
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