[ chuck/casey ] [ Christmases and Home Cooking (1/?)]
[ Fandom | Chuck ]
[ Characters | Chuck / Casey ]
[ Giftee | skyesurfer12 ]
[ Rating | NC-17 ]
[ Word Count | 10.3k ]
[ Warnings | AU (Chuck and Casey used to be neighbours as kids), Language, Pre-season 5, Unbeta'd ]
[ Summary | Team Bartowski trudge through missions until General Beckman has other plans which leaves them a week to spend Christmas with family and friends. Leaving them plenty of time to reminisce about days of old and of days to come. ]
[ Author's Note | When I began writing this, I hadn't realised the parallels that this would have with Meet the Kin which you should all read because it is amazing - I'll just put that down as great minds :P Please bear with my ever changing grammar and the very awkward but shameless pr0n. The timeline is a bit sketchy at this point but it's set before the beginning of season 5. Apologies for any confusion in this first part, but things will be explained a bit more in the next. I hope you enjoy it, Skye~ ]
[ Disclaimer | If I were the owner of Chuck, there would have been more Casey and Chuck giving one another smouldering gazes. So nada, I just play in this sandbox. ]
[ Chapters | Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4a ● Part 4b [END] ]
A glorious week was practically forced onto them by General Beckman, given to them to recuperate from the long string of missions that November had flung in their direction. It was Christmas break and apparently Roan had arranged a secret rendezvous with her somewhere in Maldives which meant Team Bartowski had to be out of her hair so she could let it down. Chuck tried very hard not to think about the implications that followed that particular revelation.
Casey hadn't been entirely pleased about his forced vacation but had agreed reluctantly in the end, unfortunately a week off meant a week at the Buy More and no way to de-stress by plugging bullets into some poor sod that wasn't an employee. His trigger finger was already itchy just thinking about it.
On the other hand, Chuck had been ecstatic about being able to spend Christmas with his friends and family without the loom of international bad guys trying to ruin everything. If he didn't spend some serious hours in front of the television hooked to a Red Bull drip, his very status as the Nerd Herd's fearless leader could be in jeopardy.
Sarah smiled at her boys, knowing that a certain MI6 agent was wrapping up a few mission details before flying into Burbank to visit. Long distance relationships were difficult to maintain when communications were silent for far too long. She was a little eager for some downtime too.
As they emerged from the meeting, Chuck had loudly wondered if Casey intended to actually go away for his break. Visit a nice beach or maybe go hiking at Las Vecas, getting in tune with his more primitive side and be one with nature. Casey had answered with a shove and an eye twitch that spoke volumes about where he intended to spend his forced spare time. Right in Burbank making sure the Intersect was safe which spelt no beaches for the foreseeable future.
Which lead Chuck down yet another dangerous path in his quest to dissect the Casey. Recreation in normal people’s minds meant relaxing and spending time doing their hobbies. From what Chuck had gleaned from working with Casey since the beginning of the Intersect Incident, recreation for such a fine specimen of the dangerous super spy sort meant either the inclusion of explosives, guns or trimming his bonsai, until an addition to Casey’s list of R and R expanded to include activities done in Casey's bed (or any convenient flat surface) that resulted in sweaty bodies, a very pleased Casey and an abnormally quiet Chuck. It wasn't a surprise when that also made it onto Chuck’s very own list.
Sarah chuckled as the boys bickered and slipped away to give them a moment of privacy when things began to get a bit handsy. She would see them soon enough at the Christmas Party that was planned. Like most holidays, Christmas was sacred to the Bartowski clan. The responsibility of the Christmas Party Feast had landed on Chuck’s shoulders this year. The invitations were thankfully handled by Ellie along with cooking the turkey. The Buy More guys were delegated with sprucing up the courtyard and other small menial tasks under the very watchful eye of the resident top Green Shirt. No one dared to complain about the physical slave labour that they were being forced to do in transforming the courtyard for fear of incurring Casey's wrath which was legendary.
The kitchen had been immaculate in the beginning before self-professed cooking god Chuck had entered to start cooking. On quick and nimble feet, Chuck flits about the kitchen as he valiantly tries to save dishes and keeps everything together, batting the panicked thoughts of Casey's displeasure at seeing the kitchen's current state out of his mind before something truly did combust in flames. "Okay Chuck, I can fix this without anyone contracting food poisoning, finish cleaning and Casey would be none the wiser before he gets home." Somehow that seems as probable as snowfall in California for Christmas. He didn't even realise when the front door opened and closed as he was stared at the wrong consistency of the questionably coloured liquid inside the pot. Thankfully nothing had burnt, yet.
“Something smells good.” A warm pair of hands land on his waist and predictably slides over his stomach in a possessive hug, holding him close against the hard planes of Casey's front. The smile on his face only intensifies as Casey presses a number of small kisses down the side of his neck. There was a playful growl in Casey’s voice as he purred, “I think it might be you,” he casts an expert eye over Chuck's shoulder into the pot of gravy that he was busy trying to salvage and adds a small amount of flour to it to fix the runny consistency.
At the beginning of the year, Chuck would never have fathomed that he would be the one moving out of his old apartment and end up being Casey’s roommate. Actually, there were quite a large number of things Chuck would never have thought would happen to him but the evil doers were proving to be rather creative this year. Chuck remembered the rather scary moment when Alex had moved in with Morgan. Casey was left to prowl and use his spy prowess on matters that did not relate entirely to protecting the Intersect. The cold and empty spot where Casey should have been warming up in their bed had urged Chuck to take matters into his own hands to ensure his buddy and Casey's daughter had some semblance of privacy and it was really a matter of time before Casey watched something highly inappropriate and equally as bizarre as the Chocolate Mask Incident. Needless to say, Casey served his job as bed warmer very well for the next month.
As warm hands slip under his shirt to caress at skin, Chuck chuckles breathlessly when fingers slip dangerously close underneath the waistband of his jeans, "Casey... if you don't stop that soon I'm going to make a mess of the pumpkin pie and possibly the mince ones too," effectively stopping anything from getting too out of hand. He hears Casey's growl and feels the hand recede to territories that were infinitely safer at the mere mention of culinary disasters, after all it had become Casey's personal mission to ensure Chuck's culinary skills were at least satisfactory. That spelt the beginning of strict tutelage at the hands of John Casey, chef extraordinaire, although sometimes the lessons ended up not quite solely focused on the dishes and the progress Chuck made had been acceptable that Casey felt it was safe to unleash the Chuck on the Christmas party; whether Casey would regret that decision only time could tell.
"Can't have that. The groceries you needed me to pick up are on the counter," Casey murmurs as he nuzzles the junction between neck and shoulder, taking in a deep breath. He was right, Chuck did smell good and the familiar scent helped ease the built up tension from a day working with the Buy Morons. Chuck had left around midday after his shift was over; leaving Casey alone to man the fort and he had been on the verge of shooting someone without Chuck there to defuse the situation like he had in the morning. A quick tumble in the storage room after lunch and the promise of more if he behaved had guaranteed the Buy More's Christmas casual staff and the idiots that shopped there would live to actually see the New Year.
Casey leaves Chuck to dive about their kitchen to save the Christmas feast from imminent disaster to grab a change of clothes. He casually pulls out one of his black dress shirts and dons it over a pair of dark faded denim jeans, feeling a little bit more relaxed in his comfortable clothes after spending a day in Buy More green. The shirt is abandoned into the laundry basket and Casey slides his feet into his combat boots, lacing them absentmindedly as he stares into the shared closet. Chuck's half was neater than it had been in the beginning even if Chuck still left his laundry everywhere from time to time. From his position sitting on his side of the bed, he could make out the army jacket that he had given to Chuck before he had left as Alex Coburn, smiling a little as the young snotty-faced brat and clung to him before he had to go. Standing up, Casey flicks the lights off and picks up the laundry basket, making his way downstairs to start a new load as he waited for the inevitable call from Chuck needing his assistance.
Minutes later, he felt a smirk grace his lips as his prediction came true just as he finished setting the washing machine up (1200 Spin Cycles with a wash capacity of 10kg, a beast of a machine and great for blood stains and other questionable substances). Chuck looks up with a fine dusting of either icing sugar smudged along one of his cheeks and gave Casey a look, the kind of look that belonged to the family of looks whenever Chuck wanted him to do something and was willing to do just about anything to get it done. The same type of doe eyes that would lead Casey into diving head first to exact revenge upon the unfortunate evildoer, only in this particular scenario there would be no gunplay but a fruit cake recipe as his feet take him to stand behind his lover.
He resists the urge to laugh as Chuck cranes his neck to look at him, "If you manage to ruin this even when I have made it clear in small bold letters the exact procedure I am never letting you cook again..." Casey let the fond threat hang in the air and patted Chuck's tush away from the mixing bowl, taking over cake making with ease and flicking Chuck's fingers away from the raisin packets when he tries to help giving him a silent stare to take care of other things. Chuck relinquishes fruit cake making duties easily and putters over to the stove to the safer realms of roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes.
Casey was a fixer and he used to be the kind of guy who thought he had the power to fix just about anything in the world. It came with the territory of being an older brother but the urge to mend had disappeared over the years when John Casey finally figured out he couldn't heal everything. Alex Coburn then understood what it meant to become a breaker which was a particular field that John Casey excelled in.
*
[1981]
Ellie Bartowski had been ecstatic once she had learnt that her mother was going to be bringing home her baby brother, given it was still three months till Christmas but she knew they couldn't very well choose these things what with babies being impatient things. For years she had been waiting to have a sibling to call her very own and at the ripe age of three going on four, she was excited to welcome the newest member of the family. She bounced eagerly on her feet next to her best friend James Coburn, who was jumping up and down equally as excited, and his elder brother Alex who had his nose buried in one of his novels (Nietzsche's Human, All Too Human whatever that meant). So, she couldn't exactly have a cool older brother like Alex but she figured a younger one might not be too bad.
A burgundy '68 Mustang turned into the drive and she heard the steady crunch of gravel until it finally screeched and rolled to a stop. Ellie and James bounced off the window seat and ran towards the front door eagerly, yanking the fly screen door near off its hinges as Mary Bartowski was walking up the short flight of stairs up onto their verandah. Alex stood behind them with his book firmly in hand but not quite reading as he watched intently at the precious bundle of blankets safely nestled in Mary's arms. Silently, he tucked the book into the pocket of his jacket and kept the screen door open for Mary, then descended the steps to help Stephen bring in Mary's belongings inside the house.
"Jammy look. That's my baby brother!" Mary smiled at her daughter's enthusiastic reply as she was shepherded inside to the small living room by two small bodies. She settled into their couch and watched as the two children peeled back the soft blankets to peer at the newest member of the Bartowski family. A bright smile lit up Ellie's face and she turned to James who was enthralled by how tiny those hands were, even though he was often reminded on a daily basis just how small his own hands were when compared to his brother's. "What's his name, mum?"
Stephen and Alex walked past the hallway with their arms filled with the baby stuff. Stephen chuckled softly as he heard his wife speak about Charles with fondness in her voice and felt an equal swell of pride in his chest. "Just put everything on the counter and I'll sort through it later," he spoke as he entered their kitchen stopping in his tracks when he realised with a frown over the clutter that was laid out already on the kitchen counters. Most of which was sticking out of a circuit board and small bits and pieces of copper wire and bits of tat that had managed to accumulate over the week. "Maybe the kitchen table then," Stephen amends and settles items onto the dining table that was thankfully devoid of things. He chalked up a mental note to clean it up as soon as feasibly possible before Mary gave him another one of her talks about leaving his things lying around.
For a young boy at the ripe age of what Stephen assumed was around ten, Alex was growing fast and had a steadfastly calm aura about him, almost mature but still very much a kid. Stephen mused with fondness as he watched Alex flick his eyes to the living room every so often, an inner turmoil of helping Stephen with his things and going to see the new baby and say hello it seemed. He clapped a fond hand between the kid's shoulder blades. "Go and say hello to Charles. I'll take it from here. And, uh, if you could stall Mary from coming in I'd appreciate it." A small pleased smile flitted over Alex's lips, nodding and readily accepting Stephen's mission and stealthily moved out of the kitchen. Stephen chuckled to himself as he went about moving his experiments back into the study before his lovely Mary got wind of his mess.
*
Casey stirred methodically as he looks at the various kitchen ingredients and messes that his counter tops had become. It was funny how things turned out. Eager to join the marines as soon as he could when he graduated from high school; he had spent more than half his life being one person. Alexander Coburn: the big brother, the protector, the young man who thought he could change the world and make a difference, the soldier, the best goddamn sniper the marines have been able to produce. Also unfortunately and officially dead.
The early days of becoming John Casey had been a strange adjustment. He had learnt to answer to a different name, to bury his old identity deep within and just get on with it because the world doesn't stop, doesn't ever stop turning or travelling around the sun and it makes him painfully more aware of how fragile mortality is. Man is the cruellest animal. John Casey: NSA special-ops, the assassin and Keller's pride and joy, the lone wolf and Angel de la Muerte was no different.
There were a myriad of other cover personalities and names that he had used throughout the second part of his life; Casey quietly contemplates as he pours the fruit cake mixture into the mould. It was surprising he would end up living with someone who actually knew who he was before he was part of the NSA and it is a relief that he doesn't have to be John Casey when he's around Chuck, just Alex Coburn, a boy who had barely become a man himself but had all of John Casey's the worldly experiences to draw on to make him a better man.
The fruit cake replaces the pies in the oven and Chuck lets out a small sigh of relief, glad to have Casey's dependable solidarity because it spells the safety of the kitchen. Chuck stands over the kitchen sink as he starts washing all the kitchen utensils that had managed to accumulate there, leaning his head on Casey's shoulder when he stands next to Chuck to quietly dry. They work together, the sound of the oven thrumming and the splash of water provide sufficient background noise even as they both considered everything and pondered about nothing.
Chuck lets out a satisfied sigh and hangs the wet tea towel he had used to wipe the benches clean to dry near the oven, stretching and feeling the way his muscles ache pleasantly. He stands by the dining table and smiles at the sheer amount of food they had managed to prepare to serve the small army that would fill his courtyard in a few hours. "We're finally set, my feet are killing me," Chuck declares and watches as Casey ignores him to prepare the last of the Christmas puddings, "I don't know how Ellie manages to do this every year or how you ever find the time to cook anything more complicated than mac and cheese. Everything aches." The last sentence predictably paints a particular lecherous smirk on Casey's face but the NSA agent wisely doesn't choose to add anything in particular to that, instead choosing to open the front door and start ferrying the finger food outside onto the tables.
The Buy More guys were still outside, arranging the fairy lights and electrical equipment though progress was slowing down as they did what they all did best - procrastinate. Casey found himself growling as soon as he spots Jeff and Lester dithering about on the stage as they started their sound check. Just as soon as he thought he had escaped from the pair of idiots at the Buy More, his entire night would be filled with Lester's girlish screaming (calling it singing would be an insult) and Jeff's drunken backing yodels (calling it vocals would be equally as insulting). His fingers twitched to curl around the gun hidden in the waistband of his pants to save everyone the misery reminding him of Christmas the year before.
*
[The Year Before]
Whoever thought giving him a retail cover job was a good idea should have been fed their toes and be covered in honey and left in a desert to die, Casey decided as he moved television after television after television for customers shopping for last minute gifts. His hackles were raised to deter any more moronic customers from asking where the electronic toothbrushes were when he was clearly standing amongst fridges and wondering how natural selection had not managed to wipe out at least half of the shoppers in the Buy More then and there. Team Bartowski hadn't gone on a mission for over a week and there was an undeniable itch that he couldn't seem to get rid of not even if he had started to visit the local gun range religiously after his shift because Jeff and Lester's rendition of Jingle Bells had left Casey unamused with the lyrical changes. He ached for General Beckman to announce that his services were needed in Kandahar or Kyrgyzstan - just anywhere that wasn't Burbank stalking the aisles whilst his ears were slowly tortured one bad song at a time.
He was used to the universal law that spies don't do public holidays because of the sheer fact that bad guys don't seem to do them either. That was the belief he had always entertained until this year. It appeared the newsletter for nefarious evildoers had finally gotten around that Burbank was not the choice location for said nefarious deeds. Casey had never entirely bothered with Christmas; to him it was simply another week of commercialism taking advantage of the sheep-like public and signalled the end of yet another miserable year. A bottle of scotch and his bonsai as company were really all Casey needed to tide him over till New Years and not even Chuck’s rather infectious good mood could change that. Though, a happy Intersect was an easier to handle Intersect - not to be mixed with the tipsy and drunk Intersect varieties which often brought a whole new level of fun to the table and Casey was fond of small miracles.
"Casey. Here!" Speak of the devil and he shall appear before you. Casey turned around to find a cup of eggnog pressed into his hand and raised an eyebrow as Chuck cast a quick look around to see if anyone was hiding behind the fridge then pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. This he met with a growl of approval. He hadn’t realised how easily he could become so deeply rooted in Burbank, the process sped up after Walker stopped pussy-footing around Chuck, who had finally come to realise a few things about himself especially when it came to his NSA handler. "I rescued this cup before Jeff could spike it with cheap vodka. He always has a habit of doing that after singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."
Chuck beamed up at him after taking a long sip from his own cup and before he could stop himself, Casey had closed the distance between their lips again to take a sample the eggnog on Chuck's tongue. Hmm, decent enough but it was a far cry from the eggnog his mother used to make. Back when Chuck was still a small child and Alex was still a young teenager, there had been a hilarious incident involving Chuck get his little hands on the not so kid-friendly version of eggnog. James and Ellie - the troublemaker pair - had laughed themselves silly and Alex was saddled with the responsibility of finding activities to wear the kids out.
"... Anyway, I think I'm moving out soon." That got Casey's attention and he frowned for uncharacteristically tuning out Chuck's voice in lieu of a trip down memory lane to times that Chuck probably didn’t even remember himself. The nerd didn't seem to have noticed his lapse in concentration and presumed to explain the situation with Morgan and Alex taking the next step in their relationship by moving in together. Which Chuck thought would be a good time to move out so Alex could have her own room and he would not have to bear witness to another Bizarre Eye Mask Incident. Casey's frown deepened. He may trust Grimes to not make a cock up of this relationship but she was still his little girl and as he was entitled to be the over-protective father that Alex didn’t have, there were a number of things that were not okay with this picture.
Chuck leaned imperceptibly closer and nuzzled an ear with his nose, whispering conspiratorially into Casey's ear, "I was thinking that you could help me with the move? I know I'm going to need some ... muscle to move some of my gear." It appeared Chuck was adamant in moving out and stubborn enough to follow through.
"Where are you moving to?" Chuck gave him a small look and huffed before mentioning Ellie's name, knowing his reliable big sister wouldn't have the heart to cast him elsewhere. Casey could tell Chuck hadn't clearly thought this through entirely if he was going to move in with Ellie again especially with the spare room being turned into a nursery in preparation for Clara's arrival. "Numb nuts, you can have the spare room at my place. That way, at least I can keep an eye out for your skinny trouble attracting ass." Casey felt that was a more acceptable solution - he could keep the Intersect and not have to bug the shit out of Ellie's apartment because there was only so much baby's crying he could stomach.
"Something tells me, big guy, that you just might like my company in the long run," Chuck grinned up at him. Casey snorted at that, leaving the smug nerd to think of it what he will. He downed the rest of his eggnog in one gulp and reached around Chuck to cop a feel. He figured he'd fuel up before he signed Jeff and Lester's death wish for them.
"Heh. We'll see about that soon enough Bartowski. Get your shit together and I'll help you move in, if you make it worth my while."
"How about I start right now, big guy?"
It seemed Jeff and Lester had luck on their side this time around as Casey allowed himself to be dragged off the floor towards the storage room.
*
As if sensing his lover's quick rise into trigger happy territory, Chuck appears at his side and slips an arm around his waist, effectively stopping Casey from reaching around to pull out his SIG Sauer. Now without the apron, Casey could see Chuck had run upstairs to change into a more presentable shirt that opened deliciously at the collar that revealed too much skin that was begging to be licked. Damn, Chuck played dirty and his young lover was very aware of the effect the open collar had. "I hate it when you don't let me have any fun," Casey grumped as he fastidiously pulled his eyes away before he undressed the young man standing next to him with more than just his eyes.
Chuck laughed softly, "When your description of fun involves dead bodies, someone has to stop you."
"No one would ever find their bodies," Casey spoke hopefully gaining him another of Chuck's chuckles, eyeballing Jeff and Lester as they begin playing random chords. He raises his hands together and cracks his knuckles menacingly as soon as he had Lester's attention. It was gratifying to see just how fast Lester could whip his head like a meerkat, swinging his attention to everything but scary Casey.
"Unfortunately, I need them at the Buy More since it wouldn't be much of a herd if it’s just me. Play nice John," Chuck gives his lover a quick kiss before extricating himself from around Casey and loping up onto the stage to offer his assistance with the last minute decorations. He watches as Chuck rolls out the extension cords and smiles to himself as the courtyard is quickly finished with Chuck's help. Various bits of tinsel and sprigs of mistletoe were taped up everywhere, the latter likely by Jeff's doing to optimize his luck with Ellie’s female doctor friends, Casey notes with disgust as he set plates of food onto the rest of tables.
The first of the guests that Casey recognises is Sarah, who arrives in a slinky blue number and hanging off the arm of one Cole Barker. The last he had heard on the grapevine about the MI6 agent, he was supposed to be deep undercover in the beautiful hills of Hungary. Either Cole had finished earlier than anticipated or MI6 also had a penchant for giving their agents Christmas off too. He had come to terms with wanting reassignment to the middle of Afghanistan or Iran where all the action was, shacking up with Chuck being one of the more primary ones these days. Southern California provided him with enough sun and it kept his trigger finger happy and his family close by.
*
[2003]
"Merry fucking Christmas ladies." Captain Casey grumped quietly as he sat with his back against the low stone wall with the other men in his squad similarly arranged around him against the stone wall. His commanding officer gave each one of them the stink eye along with a menacing smile and Casey didn’t know if it was meant to be comforting or intimidating. "Another three months in this sandy shithole and we can all go home. So don't you fucking dare die on me or we'll be sending your remains in a bloody matchbox to your families."
He ran a loving thumb over the stock of his M60 machine gun and thinks half of the men around him wouldn't make it through to the end of next week. The solid weight of the fully automatic gun is the only comfort out here and Casey has entertained thoughts of naming it something frivolous, even if he were to be buried with it if he died. Of the other men in his squad, he wondered just how many of them had also abandoned their former lives to join Keller's Black-Ops program, probably every one of them. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as the minutes continue ticking away past the midnight hour.
"Something to add there Casey?" The low growl in his CO's voice implied there better not be anything.
"No, sir," he replied obediently like the good soldier he was programmed to be. The men huddled down together as the night stretched on completely devoid of motion and noise. In a warzone, the natural habitants were always the first casualties.
Casey found his thoughts flitting to Kathleen and his family. It had been a good decade since he had enlisted in the marines and was deployed overseas. He tilted his head back far enough to see the starry night sky twinkling down at him and wondered if they would be seeing the same sky soon enough when night fell over America.
If Casey was the kind of man to believe in Christmas wishes he would have wished for Kathleen to meet a guy that would treat her better than he ever could, for Jammy to not follow in his footsteps and join the marines and for his ma to not miss him too much because pa wouldn't be there to make sure she'd be ok; for Ellie to realise her dreams of becoming a doctor, for Morgan to grow up (yeah, Casey figured that one might be a bit of a long shot) and for Chuck to become whoever he wanted to be because he could do anything if he put his mind to it.
Yeah Christmas wishes don't really exist but it was a nice comforting thought all the same.
*
He watches like a hawk as Morgan arrives with his arm around his daughter, picking her up after work in a show of gentleman courtesy. Casey couldn't help the small smile on his face as she brightened upon seeing him and the moment she wraps her arms around him. Casey knows he isn't programmed to be a father but it definitely gets easier being a dad when Alex is so eager to have one in her life.
"Glad you could make it," Casey speaks with a soft smile on his face as soon as she breaks the hug long enough to kiss his cheeks. It was the kind of emotion that both Chuck and Alex were determined to get him to show a lot more of in the past year. What they didn't know was that Casey couldn't seem to stop the displays of affection just by being around them; he figures he'd never hear the end of it if they got wind of that.
"Now Dad," that word always made Casey feel rather squishy on the inside, "I wouldn't miss Chuck's cooking for anything in the world assuming he hasn't burn anything this time around. I know you told us to be gentle with him about the risotto a few months back, but I do prefer to spend my Christmas without food poisoning." Alex gave her father an apologetic look even if she was just speaking the truth. Casey answered with a grunt that implied 'you and me both'.
It was time for Morgan to step in, never one to take critique about his buddy very well without giving the source an earful, “Hey now, where’s the faith in my buddy? I’m sure this will be a Christmas Feast to remember and for all the right reasons. For one, Chuck’s been making your dad lunch every day as practise and either he’s got a stomach of steel or it could actually mean Chuck is improving,” Morgan spoke emphatically as he folded his arms over his chest in a very Casey like manner. He had an almost blind trust in Chuck’s inability to do any wrong and Casey smirked at the mere mention of Chuck making him lunch every day. The daily practise had actually helped somewhat even if the most elaborate of lunches had been last night’s leftovers. Casey didn’t mind all too much being the guinea pig to Chuck’s culinary delights.
"And two, your dad's mini quiches are so legendary that my buddy wouldn't dare to mess it up, right Casey?" Morgan beamed at the lack of a response from his best friend’s lover and continued, “So everything’s peachy keen Alex because if I know Chuck as well as I know I do, Chuck wouldn’t knowingly poison us anyway. So, uh, buddy. What isn’t cooked by Chuck here tonight? You know, just as a precaution.” Casey gave Morgan a roll of his eyes before moving away, deeming it fairly unimportant if Morgan was the first one to go down even if he was his daughter’s boyfriend and his lover’s best friend (he wouldn't go as far as regarding Morgan his friend even if he has known the kid since the first day Chuck had started kindergarten). It was always humorous to see the bearded loser squirm.
*
[The Year Before]
“You know when I suggested we all go to the beach and just take a weekend off with everyone, I suggested it with all intents and purposes to actually have fun right? Being a proper friend and spending a day in the sun with family kind of day, not spending an hour in the beach changing room or getting shot at by terrorists,” Chuck asked as he pulled his beach bag out of the trunk of the Crown Vic, recalling the day's events. Casey smirked in reply as he reached around Chuck to take out his back up gun back for maintenence.
“Didn’t hear you complain about the changing room whilst we were in there, tiger.”
Chuck turned an attractive shade of pink, spluttering a number of intelligent noises in retaliation much to Casey’s amusement. “Yeah well... That was before we had to run down the entire beach in a very Baywatch-esque way, away from your very and might I add very pissed off friends. Remind me again why every time we try to do normal things like go out on a date or to a public beach it ends up involving lots and lots of guns,” Chuck asked drolly as he closed the trunk and turned to head back to their apartment.
Casey made quick work of locking up his car and slid a warm arm around Chuck’s waist. “Told ya before, you’re the poster boy for friendly fire.” Chuck tried to twist out of his hold indignantly only to find himself trapped against the wall opposite the mailboxes with a very enthusiastic NSA agent distracting him with kisses. He knew this method and was rather well acquainted with the execution in the subtle art of diversions, grumbling as Casey settled for nibbling on his neck.
“Don't think I'm not onto you... I’d like to spend a normal Christmas weekend for once with you and Morgan and Ellie and ... ngh... Alex minus the gunplay. But if you keep this up ... right there ngh... y-you won’t hear me complaining if we f-find ourselves in a changing room again.”
*
“Evening Casey,” Cole smiles and offers his hand; Casey takes it heartily and shakes firmly. Sarah smiles on Cole’s other side and gives Ellie a small wave when the older Bartowski looks in their direction. “Fancy party you’ve got going. I heard from Sarah that Chuck’s the one in charge of the catering today. How is the lad in the kitchen?” Casey was willing to bet that wasn’t the only thing Sarah told Cole but let himself relax a little around his partner and her current love interest.
“He won’t become a high paying chef anytime soon but he’ll do,” Casey replies with a little bit of pride in his voice. Sarah momentarily abandons the men to say hello to the few friends she knows, leaving Cole and Casey to talk about world politics and other manly things like the weather and swapping alcoholic beverage recipes.
Sarah returns with plates and hands them out as she ushers them to get in line for some food. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have let him organize something like this if you weren’t confident in his skills John,” Sarah speaks as she delicately picks one of everything and makes sure both Cole and Casey’s plates were similarly piled high. “Though I’m sure Chuck was very, uh, persuasive in his techniques about letting him do this.” Her cheeky smile grows wider when Casey doesn’t bother correcting her. Cole chuckles all knowingly and the three spies soon find themselves standing in a comfortable corner near Casey’s door, eating and chatting. It was more Cole regaling his European tales, Sarah chatting amicably and Casey genuinely enjoying himself as they moved between discussions of the latest firearms on the market to speculations of what Roan and Diane were up to (the latter topic was something Casey didn't enjoy as much).
“Well I wouldn’t have to worry about you facing starvation, mate,” Cole spoke as he busily licks his fingers clean of crumbs, “Chuck’s got my vote if we ever need a caterer.” Sarah agrees as she spears a piece of chicken off Cole’s plate and pops it into her mouth, chewing with a bright smile when Cole leans in as an act of rescuing the chicken. Casey regard the pair with what could be mistaken as mirth and raise an eyebrow at their antics, noticing how relaxed they were in one another’s company as they share a very sweet kiss. He knew that the Sarah and Shaw thing would end in disaster before it even started and as usual, Casey had been on the money. Beefcake definitely had his vote when compared to the other Casanovas that waltz into Sarah's life like natural disasters.
What had so far been a rather pleasant evening mingling (not so much as indulging in a drink on Casey’s part) was interrupted by a strum of an electric guitar as Jeffster took the stage to a very mixed reaction by the crowd. Cole's questioning look has Sarah explaining the long history of disasters that Chuck's fellow Nerds had partaken in or were the direct cause of. Chuck appears at Casey’s elbow as if sensing his special skillset in placating trigger happy NSA handlers would be required very soon. Chuck barely got in half a word of his greetings before he was whisked away.
Thankfully, the idiotic duo provided Casey a very good reason for slipping away from the mingling and coincidentally before his temper lead to situations when he really couldn’t un-kill someone. Sarah and Cole feign innocence when a worried Ellie asks the whereabouts of both Chuck and Casey, preferring to sit around by the fountain feeding one another Chuck’s rather brilliant cooking.
*
[2003]
A knocking at the door startles Ellie out of the light doze she was in after returning from an eighteen hour shift at the hospital. She's still in her blue surgeon clothes and since she lives with Devon and now her brother, it hadn't occurred for her to change into something more comfortable. “Gimme a minute,” she slurs and stands up to stumble towards the door and opening it. She blinks blearily to rid the sleep that clings to her eyelashes and she hides a yawn behind her hand. “Can I help you?”
A man in a pressed pristine pinstripe suit fills out the doorway; his badge is clipped to the chest pocket of suit jacket and shows that he’s one of the feds. There is an all too familiar grin on his face and he looks as surprised as she feels when she recognises the face of an old friend. “Ellie? Eleanor Bartowski?”
Her hand flies to her lips as she pieces together the blonde hair and startling blue eyes that once twinkled with unspoken mischief were now tempered down by years on the job. “Oh my god, Jammy is that you? What are you doing here? How did you know I live here? Please come in,” Ellie says all at once and moves to the side to let him in.
“It's good to see you Ellie. I was just in the area doing some follow up and thought to visit after all these years. You know, working so close and never dropping by just didn’t sit right with me but there wasn't ever the time,” James speaks as he takes the offered chair at Ellie’s table. She slips into the kitchen to put the kettle on and pulls out two tea mugs. “It’s been far too long. You look… well positively shit, but I guess that’s to be expected with all the hours you’re pulling, huh? Resident yet?”
Ellie laughs and runs a hand through her sleep mussed hair as she goes to shuffle some of the magazines off her counter tops. She really needed to have a word with Devon about him leaving his various concoctions lying about; placing the blender into the sink where other pieces of crockery sat that needed washing. “Soon, if all goes well. I bet you feel like how I do right about now Jammy. When was the last time we saw one another?”
They quietly contemplate this and it suddenly comes to them that it had been their high school graduation nearly a decade ago. “A very long time, huh,” James huffs through his nose and rubs absently at his badge as he looks about the apartment. There is a definite lived in feel about the place and a variety of exercise equipment lying in the corner indicates she wasn't living alone. Ellie echoes her sentiments and busies herself with pouring the hot water into the mugs to fill in the contemplative silence.
A black and white striped mug appears on a coaster at the table by James’ hand and Ellie settles into the chair opposite him as she folds a leg around and sips from her mug. “How’s Chuck doing?” Ellie smile falters at the mention of her little brother’s name. It hadn’t been a good year for him between being expelled and dumped by Jill. She tells him of her well founded concern and James frowns at the university’s decision but otherwise says nothing as he nurses the tea in his hands.
“He’s working at a Buy More now. I never thought he would end up in retail when he had so much potential at Stanford. I just don’t want him to be stuck at a dead end job for the rest of his life, you know?” Ellie sighs at the end of her small rant. Chuck had always been her responsibility ever since their mother had left and their father being so caught up with work that he barely even had time to sleep let alone his children before he left too. James pats the back of Ellie’s hand, understanding the expectations that she had.
“What about you? I remember how you wanted to become a marine after graduation like your brother.”
He takes a sip of the tea and explains the mundane details of his life as a tool for the government; braving four years of service as a marine and then studying international relations for another four and then the cushy job as a special agent for the FBI. James falls silent as he takes an extra-long swallow of tea at the mention of his older brother as it brings up images of the funeral. Even if he hadn't been as close to Alex as Chuck had been, he still missed him even after all these years.
“Oh Jammy,” Ellie sighs softly and takes James’ hands in her own, squeezing gently in comfort. “I’m sorry for mentioning him.” There is a blanket of anguish that settles so easily over them and Ellie is rather eager to dispel it somehow. The accidental death of Alex Coburn had left a deep mark on everyone that had known him as well.
“How’s Kath? Have you spoken to her? Last I heard from her was before I left for UCLA. How's her baby?”
James nods and smiles like the proud uncle that he is. “She and Ma talk often. Alex is so much like him, beautiful spirit. They named her after him. She’s turning thirteen soon and still won’t give up on getting a pony for her birthday. Sometimes I think it hurts Ma when she’s around her because Alex is a reminder of him but I know it’s gotta hurt some before it can get better.” There’s a small wistful smile on his face as he thinks about his niece and Ellie wonders if James is also feeling a little lost without his older brother. She pats the back of James hand because she could admit that she missed him and the advice that he used to give.
They speak of other small mundane things and Ellie finds she is rather glad that her old best friend had sought her out for a nice cup of tea. She’s grateful that they haven’t lost their connection as friends and it isn’t until Chuck returns from his shift that she realises just how much she had to tell her old friend during that time. James stands up, thinking he had overstayed his welcome but is rebuked by the combined forces of two Bartowskis and is easily coerced to stay for dinner.
As the three of them prepare for dinner, Devon joins them after his own shift at the hospital is finished. He is initially astonished to find an FBI agent in their kitchen but it’s all fine because it’s awesome that Ellie and Chuck knows someone like Mulder and Scully from the X-files. James explains they don’t quite deal with extra-terrestrial life with a laugh but compliments Devon on how diligent he is with keeping his body in shape. The four of them settle in to a meal of spaghetti and reminisce about old times, slowly getting to know one another again and reconnecting as adults.
*
The door is barely closed before Casey strides purposefully past Chuck, growling, “Honestly. I may not celebrate Christmas but those two idiots are ruining it for me,” as he sets his plate down onto the dining room table where he could find it later. Chuck shakes his head solemnly and wonders which lucky deity was responsible for Jeff and Lester’s new lease of life again before thanking them silently for the rather delectable sight of an annoyed Casey. There was just something about angry Casey - especially when he wasn’t the direct cause of it - that was incredibly sexy.
Chuck fills the silence with small talk, pretending he doesn’t notice the way Casey had turned around and was giving him a once over with eyes that are far too blue and filled with carefully masked lust. Why yes the apple rhubarb pie was a little bit on the undercooked side and why on earth is it that you appear to be undressing me with your eyes?
That second part, Chuck wisely says within the safe confines of his head and he leans casually against the back of their couch, pretending not to notice the way Casey’s gaze is travelling from his black Chucks, up his casual dark jeans and had contemplatively stalled at the open collar of his dress shirt before finally meeting his eyes. The smirk on Casey’s lips distracts Chuck’s line of thought and he is fascinated with the way those lips twist into something tender. His feet are immediately drawn forward by the beckoning curl of Casey’s fingers and Chuck doesn’t stop moving until he is pressed chest to hip with Casey.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for being my sous chef earlier.”
The soft low baritone purrs in Chuck’s ear, “My pleasure,” fingers run through Chuck’s curls and gentle finger tips play with the soft hair at the nape. Casey takes his time memorising each and every feature of Chuck’s face, but every so often those blue eyes would always home in on one particular location. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination where Casey’s obsession lay as his gaze flickers downwards to appraise Chuck’s mouth. Chuck runs his tongue over his lower lip and then his upper one as he wonders what Casey was thinking. The sharp intake of breath and the low rumble of enjoyment that may have been a figment of his imagination.
“John-“
The rest of Chuck’s words are swallowed up when the man in question finally leans in and catches the corner of Chuck’s lips, then tilts his head to finally tease Chuck’s mouth open in a lascivious and languid kiss. The type of kiss that never fails to make Chuck’s knees weak as Casey’s wet tongue slips between his lips and elicits the most delicious of moans from the younger man. His hands rest on the collar of Casey’s black jacket (the same one that emphasises the broadness of his shoulders and does incredibly funny things with his libido) whilst his fingers curl in upon themselves as he is entirely dominated by the skilful motions of Casey’s tongue in a filthy and very messy kiss.
Time loses all meaning to Chuck as he gets lost in the maelstrom of want, surrendering control willingly as large hands ghost down his back over the thin barrier of his dress shirt. The path is lit by the warmth that exudes from his palms as the surreptitiously slide down to grab two handfuls of skinny geek ass. The surprised gasp is lost amongst the low approving purr and Chuck greedily sips on oxygen when Casey’s talented mouth moves away from thoroughly kiss swollen lips, heavy eyelids slowly coaxed open by the phantom feel of the tip of Casey’s nose nuzzling his cheek. Chuck hadn't even realised he'd closed them earlier.
“Now that is how you thank someone,” Casey purrs with satisfaction and waits patiently for the Intersect to file that one away in its memory banks as Chuck’s brain slowly reboots. Conditioning Chuck to respond to positive feedback had taken a very interesting turn and the debauched state of the nerd that made him hum with approval again. The geek has the gall to smile cheekily back at him, eyes maintaining a slightly glazed look as the younger man fought the wave of arousal that clouded normally bright hazel eyes.
“I-is it now? I wasn’t paying attention during the demonstration and I feel a repeat performance would be beneficial to the learning process, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement.” The lop-sided grin on Chuck's face instantly draws Casey’s attention to those lips and the NSA agent carefully lowers Chuck over the back of the couch then closes the distance between their mouths again and entertains Chuck’s tongue in an entirely different manner. Heh, positive feedback.
*
[The Year Before]
Sleepy Casey is one of Chuck’s favourite kinds of Casey because the normally hard lines that form on his face are smoothed away by rest and his mouth is unusually pliant that allows Chuck to plunder and direct the course of the morning’s activities. That ranges from disappearing under the covers as he suckled his lover to full attention to being flipped onto his back with his legs flung unceremoniously over broad shoulders and Casey makes him feel it all day long at the Buy More that distracts him in ways only the NSA agent could achieve.
Today, it’s a quiet weekend that they had looked forward to spending together for a long time coming but had kept setting it back as pressing situations crop up that leaves Chuck frustrated with coincidences that were entirely too deliberate for his liking. His personal life always took a backseat when issues involving national security was concerned. Yesterday’s mission had ended successfully without much of a hassle and whilst he enjoyed the adrenaline fuelled post-mission sex, their slow and unhurried love making that had lasted well into the early hours of the morning were the times he cherished more.
Usually on weekdays, Casey would be up at the crack of dawn and have stripped the blankets off his naked body, barking at him to get up and get dressed for their morning run. How Casey was such a cheerful morning person Chuck would never know as he bumped his way off walls like a pinball towards their bathroom where warm water would help get all his systems up and running.
Then there are the rare days that Chuck is the one to wake up first, staring and admiring a sleeping Casey from the way long eyelashes curled to the way the sheets twist just so to hide everything but one hip down to the elegant way Casey’s legs stretch out on the other side. He can’t stop himself from looking or the tight feeling in his chest that makes his heart trace funny beats against his rib cage whenever he looks at Casey whether it be at the Buy More or on missions even when he should be focussing on doing his Intersect things. But Chuck just can’t help it and he knows he's too far gone and had no intention of turning around.
Still, weekends are good days and he reaches a hand out to run fingers through the hair that falls over Casey’s forehead, sweeping the strands into some semblance of order. Looks like someone needed a haircut, Chuck mused as he blithely ignores the way he may need one too before more zoological shapes could be traced out. Casey grumbles something intelligent in his sleep before turning over and away from the offending sunlight, baring his back to face Chuck.
With a fond smile, Chuck invades the warm spot left behind and spoons up against Casey as he presses a soft kiss to the nape of Casey’s neck. He can’t resist nuzzling that spot there and inhales the scent lazily before committing it to memory. Breathing in all of Casey leaves him feeling a little bit foolish but nevertheless he is the hopeless romantic of this relationship and Chuck can’t bear to consider that one day Casey wouldn’t be there. It had already happened once before and Chuck had such a vivid recollection of that day as a child. He was certain and eager to never have to relive it as an adult.
He curls an arm around his lover and quietly runs his fingers over Casey’s abdominal musculature, marvelling at the chiselled ridges that Chuck had never been able to achieve as a teenager or a young adult with his lanky form. Everything had been lean and so much different from Casey's impressive form and invariably, his long and dextrous fingers chart a path for southern waters causing his lover to stir. Casey’s voice is hazed from sleep, “Chuck?”
He presses closer against Casey’s back, marvelling at the warmth that radiates from him and presses his mouth against a shoulder blade. “Morning. Sleep well?” There’s a soft hitch in Casey’s breath as he wraps his fingers tighter around a very interested party and pulls lazily.
“Yeah. Dreamt about you,” Casey moans softly as he stretches like a jungle cat (it’s still a toss-up between a tiger or a panther, but Chuck doubts the specifics matter to Casey anyway). The moves gracefully show off the way Casey’s muscles ripple underneath his skin and Casey the show off knows how much Chuck enjoys that.
Chuck feels another lazy grin cross his face and finds himself face to face with Casey, his wrist never stops their lethargic ministrations on Casey’s cock. Like everything about John Casey, he was thick and long and it never fails how utterly distracted Chuck could become just by being in Casey’s close proximity. He swallows thickly before replying, “Oh? I hope it was a good dream.”
The feral look on Casey’s face speaks volumes and a small plastic bottle appears mysteriously in Casey’s hand, his gaze drawn to the way the clear lubricant slides over Casey’s fingertips before they disappear inside his body and worked to relax at Chuck’s sphincter muscles. “You were tied up, all pretty like,” Casey began as he looms over Chuck and twists his fingers just so that causes him to gasp, “Kept begging me to fuck you over and over. Do you want that? Want me to fuck you into the mattress hard?”
A whimper tears itself from Chuck’s throat and his body (traitor!) widens himself further, legs spread on either side of Casey and putting himself on full display for his lover. The crook of long fingers inside him sends him gasping for air. “J-John…please…”
“Yeah, just like that.” Teeth gently tugged at an earlobe and a large hand shoots out to bind Chuck’s wrists together, pressing them into the headboard of Casey’s large bed. He feels the muscles work as Chuck opens and closes his hands uselessly; a small impatient wriggle of his hips has Casey questioning how long he could torture his lover before he came just from the wicked writhing. Casey quickly calculated it was going to be a very quick fuck at the rate they were going and prepares Chuck as quickly as he could. “Love it when you beg.”
“C-Casey! Would you just hurry up-” The younger man tries to sound indignant but it comes out as an exasperated squawk when fingers are pulled out of his relaxed body. There are a number of threats Chuck could be making at this juncture but his synapses are failing him at this juncture that there is little Chuck can do but struggle futilely against Casey’s impromptu bonds and arch his back up to get any kind of friction on his straining erection.
“Patience is a fucking virtue,” Casey chimes merrily as he rips the foil with teeth and quickly sheathes himself in latex using his one free hand, a feat that he will boast about later along with his double entendre when the call to line up his cock and fuck Chuck seventy two ways into Sunday hard weren’t at the forefront of his mind.
Chuck holds his breath as Casey presses his impressive length inside inch by torturous inch and lets it all out in a surprised gasp by the snap of Casey’s hips that causes long fingers to dig into their bed sheets to match the bruising grip on his hip. “Fu-uuuuck,” Chuck hisses as he jerks his hips awkwardly to match the rhythm Casey’s rolling hips even as a firm hand pins him into the bed sheets causes him to moan with frustration. His eyes slip down to half-mast on their own accord as he pants through his open mouth because of the delicious friction between his legs.
With a firm tug, Casey pulls Chuck further down the mattress and grinds down into that wickedly tight body underneath him, drawing out a wanton groan from the younger man as the larger man presses his wrists into one of their pillows. “Glad to see you have a firm grasp of the situation eh,” he dips his head down with a pleased growl and covers Chuck’s lips in a sloppy kiss, fucking his mouth in fluid motions to the same staccato rhythm as he fucks into Chuck’s pliant body just the way he likes it. And from the way Chuck wriggles and urges Casey for faster and harder and right there, he knows just how much Chuck is enjoying this.
There is something explicitly beautiful about watching Chuck turn to putty, deriving filthy little mewls from that typically noisy mouth of his that spreads smug warmth in his belly because Casey knows he is the direct cause of Chuck’s lost sensibilities. He sweeps his tongue along Chuck’s lower lips and succumbs to the need to possess Chuck in every way conceivable, from his cock inside Chuck all the way up to their gasping mouths up to their entwined fingers after Casey loosens his bruising grip around Chuck’s wrists.
Chuck jerks upwards suddenly with a cry and paints his stomach in ribbons of white, and Casey purrs with satisfaction as he slides the hand on Chuck’s hips up to stroke and milk Chuck for what he's worth. The way Chuck tightens around him spells the glorious end for Casey as he mouths a line down his pale neck to bite into the junction between shoulder and neck, sucking down hard when he slips off the cliff into the coiling pool of ecstasy deep in his stomach with a soft groan of Chuck’s name.
He resists the urge to collapse onto his lover and keeps himself upright using one hand through sheer will alone, loving the satiated loose smile on Chuck’s face and nips at the soft skin on Chuck’s neck. When Chuck twines his fingers through the back of his hair and pulls him down regardless, Casey takes that as an open invitation to remain inside Chuck longer as he takes Chuck’s hand to press soothing kisses to his wrist.
Ending Notes I'm not entirely sure how many parts this will end up being. There's at least two parts that I want to write but if you guys have any requests for scenes that you want to see how it plays out in this AU please feel free to prompt and let me know! More badly written pr0n to come C:
[ Chapters | Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4a ● Part 4b [END] ]
[ Characters | Chuck / Casey ]
[ Giftee | skyesurfer12 ]
[ Rating | NC-17 ]
[ Word Count | 10.3k ]
[ Warnings | AU (Chuck and Casey used to be neighbours as kids), Language, Pre-season 5, Unbeta'd ]
[ Summary | Team Bartowski trudge through missions until General Beckman has other plans which leaves them a week to spend Christmas with family and friends. Leaving them plenty of time to reminisce about days of old and of days to come. ]
[ Author's Note | When I began writing this, I hadn't realised the parallels that this would have with Meet the Kin which you should all read because it is amazing - I'll just put that down as great minds :P Please bear with my ever changing grammar and the very awkward but shameless pr0n. The timeline is a bit sketchy at this point but it's set before the beginning of season 5. Apologies for any confusion in this first part, but things will be explained a bit more in the next. I hope you enjoy it, Skye~ ]
[ Disclaimer | If I were the owner of Chuck, there would have been more Casey and Chuck giving one another smouldering gazes. So nada, I just play in this sandbox. ]
[ Chapters | Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4a ● Part 4b [END] ]
A glorious week was practically forced onto them by General Beckman, given to them to recuperate from the long string of missions that November had flung in their direction. It was Christmas break and apparently Roan had arranged a secret rendezvous with her somewhere in Maldives which meant Team Bartowski had to be out of her hair so she could let it down. Chuck tried very hard not to think about the implications that followed that particular revelation.
Casey hadn't been entirely pleased about his forced vacation but had agreed reluctantly in the end, unfortunately a week off meant a week at the Buy More and no way to de-stress by plugging bullets into some poor sod that wasn't an employee. His trigger finger was already itchy just thinking about it.
On the other hand, Chuck had been ecstatic about being able to spend Christmas with his friends and family without the loom of international bad guys trying to ruin everything. If he didn't spend some serious hours in front of the television hooked to a Red Bull drip, his very status as the Nerd Herd's fearless leader could be in jeopardy.
Sarah smiled at her boys, knowing that a certain MI6 agent was wrapping up a few mission details before flying into Burbank to visit. Long distance relationships were difficult to maintain when communications were silent for far too long. She was a little eager for some downtime too.
As they emerged from the meeting, Chuck had loudly wondered if Casey intended to actually go away for his break. Visit a nice beach or maybe go hiking at Las Vecas, getting in tune with his more primitive side and be one with nature. Casey had answered with a shove and an eye twitch that spoke volumes about where he intended to spend his forced spare time. Right in Burbank making sure the Intersect was safe which spelt no beaches for the foreseeable future.
Which lead Chuck down yet another dangerous path in his quest to dissect the Casey. Recreation in normal people’s minds meant relaxing and spending time doing their hobbies. From what Chuck had gleaned from working with Casey since the beginning of the Intersect Incident, recreation for such a fine specimen of the dangerous super spy sort meant either the inclusion of explosives, guns or trimming his bonsai, until an addition to Casey’s list of R and R expanded to include activities done in Casey's bed (or any convenient flat surface) that resulted in sweaty bodies, a very pleased Casey and an abnormally quiet Chuck. It wasn't a surprise when that also made it onto Chuck’s very own list.
Sarah chuckled as the boys bickered and slipped away to give them a moment of privacy when things began to get a bit handsy. She would see them soon enough at the Christmas Party that was planned. Like most holidays, Christmas was sacred to the Bartowski clan. The responsibility of the Christmas Party Feast had landed on Chuck’s shoulders this year. The invitations were thankfully handled by Ellie along with cooking the turkey. The Buy More guys were delegated with sprucing up the courtyard and other small menial tasks under the very watchful eye of the resident top Green Shirt. No one dared to complain about the physical slave labour that they were being forced to do in transforming the courtyard for fear of incurring Casey's wrath which was legendary.
The kitchen had been immaculate in the beginning before self-professed cooking god Chuck had entered to start cooking. On quick and nimble feet, Chuck flits about the kitchen as he valiantly tries to save dishes and keeps everything together, batting the panicked thoughts of Casey's displeasure at seeing the kitchen's current state out of his mind before something truly did combust in flames. "Okay Chuck, I can fix this without anyone contracting food poisoning, finish cleaning and Casey would be none the wiser before he gets home." Somehow that seems as probable as snowfall in California for Christmas. He didn't even realise when the front door opened and closed as he was stared at the wrong consistency of the questionably coloured liquid inside the pot. Thankfully nothing had burnt, yet.
“Something smells good.” A warm pair of hands land on his waist and predictably slides over his stomach in a possessive hug, holding him close against the hard planes of Casey's front. The smile on his face only intensifies as Casey presses a number of small kisses down the side of his neck. There was a playful growl in Casey’s voice as he purred, “I think it might be you,” he casts an expert eye over Chuck's shoulder into the pot of gravy that he was busy trying to salvage and adds a small amount of flour to it to fix the runny consistency.
At the beginning of the year, Chuck would never have fathomed that he would be the one moving out of his old apartment and end up being Casey’s roommate. Actually, there were quite a large number of things Chuck would never have thought would happen to him but the evil doers were proving to be rather creative this year. Chuck remembered the rather scary moment when Alex had moved in with Morgan. Casey was left to prowl and use his spy prowess on matters that did not relate entirely to protecting the Intersect. The cold and empty spot where Casey should have been warming up in their bed had urged Chuck to take matters into his own hands to ensure his buddy and Casey's daughter had some semblance of privacy and it was really a matter of time before Casey watched something highly inappropriate and equally as bizarre as the Chocolate Mask Incident. Needless to say, Casey served his job as bed warmer very well for the next month.
As warm hands slip under his shirt to caress at skin, Chuck chuckles breathlessly when fingers slip dangerously close underneath the waistband of his jeans, "Casey... if you don't stop that soon I'm going to make a mess of the pumpkin pie and possibly the mince ones too," effectively stopping anything from getting too out of hand. He hears Casey's growl and feels the hand recede to territories that were infinitely safer at the mere mention of culinary disasters, after all it had become Casey's personal mission to ensure Chuck's culinary skills were at least satisfactory. That spelt the beginning of strict tutelage at the hands of John Casey, chef extraordinaire, although sometimes the lessons ended up not quite solely focused on the dishes and the progress Chuck made had been acceptable that Casey felt it was safe to unleash the Chuck on the Christmas party; whether Casey would regret that decision only time could tell.
"Can't have that. The groceries you needed me to pick up are on the counter," Casey murmurs as he nuzzles the junction between neck and shoulder, taking in a deep breath. He was right, Chuck did smell good and the familiar scent helped ease the built up tension from a day working with the Buy Morons. Chuck had left around midday after his shift was over; leaving Casey alone to man the fort and he had been on the verge of shooting someone without Chuck there to defuse the situation like he had in the morning. A quick tumble in the storage room after lunch and the promise of more if he behaved had guaranteed the Buy More's Christmas casual staff and the idiots that shopped there would live to actually see the New Year.
Casey leaves Chuck to dive about their kitchen to save the Christmas feast from imminent disaster to grab a change of clothes. He casually pulls out one of his black dress shirts and dons it over a pair of dark faded denim jeans, feeling a little bit more relaxed in his comfortable clothes after spending a day in Buy More green. The shirt is abandoned into the laundry basket and Casey slides his feet into his combat boots, lacing them absentmindedly as he stares into the shared closet. Chuck's half was neater than it had been in the beginning even if Chuck still left his laundry everywhere from time to time. From his position sitting on his side of the bed, he could make out the army jacket that he had given to Chuck before he had left as Alex Coburn, smiling a little as the young snotty-faced brat and clung to him before he had to go. Standing up, Casey flicks the lights off and picks up the laundry basket, making his way downstairs to start a new load as he waited for the inevitable call from Chuck needing his assistance.
Minutes later, he felt a smirk grace his lips as his prediction came true just as he finished setting the washing machine up (1200 Spin Cycles with a wash capacity of 10kg, a beast of a machine and great for blood stains and other questionable substances). Chuck looks up with a fine dusting of either icing sugar smudged along one of his cheeks and gave Casey a look, the kind of look that belonged to the family of looks whenever Chuck wanted him to do something and was willing to do just about anything to get it done. The same type of doe eyes that would lead Casey into diving head first to exact revenge upon the unfortunate evildoer, only in this particular scenario there would be no gunplay but a fruit cake recipe as his feet take him to stand behind his lover.
He resists the urge to laugh as Chuck cranes his neck to look at him, "If you manage to ruin this even when I have made it clear in small bold letters the exact procedure I am never letting you cook again..." Casey let the fond threat hang in the air and patted Chuck's tush away from the mixing bowl, taking over cake making with ease and flicking Chuck's fingers away from the raisin packets when he tries to help giving him a silent stare to take care of other things. Chuck relinquishes fruit cake making duties easily and putters over to the stove to the safer realms of roasted vegetables and mashed potatoes.
Casey was a fixer and he used to be the kind of guy who thought he had the power to fix just about anything in the world. It came with the territory of being an older brother but the urge to mend had disappeared over the years when John Casey finally figured out he couldn't heal everything. Alex Coburn then understood what it meant to become a breaker which was a particular field that John Casey excelled in.
*
[1981]
Ellie Bartowski had been ecstatic once she had learnt that her mother was going to be bringing home her baby brother, given it was still three months till Christmas but she knew they couldn't very well choose these things what with babies being impatient things. For years she had been waiting to have a sibling to call her very own and at the ripe age of three going on four, she was excited to welcome the newest member of the family. She bounced eagerly on her feet next to her best friend James Coburn, who was jumping up and down equally as excited, and his elder brother Alex who had his nose buried in one of his novels (Nietzsche's Human, All Too Human whatever that meant). So, she couldn't exactly have a cool older brother like Alex but she figured a younger one might not be too bad.
A burgundy '68 Mustang turned into the drive and she heard the steady crunch of gravel until it finally screeched and rolled to a stop. Ellie and James bounced off the window seat and ran towards the front door eagerly, yanking the fly screen door near off its hinges as Mary Bartowski was walking up the short flight of stairs up onto their verandah. Alex stood behind them with his book firmly in hand but not quite reading as he watched intently at the precious bundle of blankets safely nestled in Mary's arms. Silently, he tucked the book into the pocket of his jacket and kept the screen door open for Mary, then descended the steps to help Stephen bring in Mary's belongings inside the house.
"Jammy look. That's my baby brother!" Mary smiled at her daughter's enthusiastic reply as she was shepherded inside to the small living room by two small bodies. She settled into their couch and watched as the two children peeled back the soft blankets to peer at the newest member of the Bartowski family. A bright smile lit up Ellie's face and she turned to James who was enthralled by how tiny those hands were, even though he was often reminded on a daily basis just how small his own hands were when compared to his brother's. "What's his name, mum?"
Stephen and Alex walked past the hallway with their arms filled with the baby stuff. Stephen chuckled softly as he heard his wife speak about Charles with fondness in her voice and felt an equal swell of pride in his chest. "Just put everything on the counter and I'll sort through it later," he spoke as he entered their kitchen stopping in his tracks when he realised with a frown over the clutter that was laid out already on the kitchen counters. Most of which was sticking out of a circuit board and small bits and pieces of copper wire and bits of tat that had managed to accumulate over the week. "Maybe the kitchen table then," Stephen amends and settles items onto the dining table that was thankfully devoid of things. He chalked up a mental note to clean it up as soon as feasibly possible before Mary gave him another one of her talks about leaving his things lying around.
For a young boy at the ripe age of what Stephen assumed was around ten, Alex was growing fast and had a steadfastly calm aura about him, almost mature but still very much a kid. Stephen mused with fondness as he watched Alex flick his eyes to the living room every so often, an inner turmoil of helping Stephen with his things and going to see the new baby and say hello it seemed. He clapped a fond hand between the kid's shoulder blades. "Go and say hello to Charles. I'll take it from here. And, uh, if you could stall Mary from coming in I'd appreciate it." A small pleased smile flitted over Alex's lips, nodding and readily accepting Stephen's mission and stealthily moved out of the kitchen. Stephen chuckled to himself as he went about moving his experiments back into the study before his lovely Mary got wind of his mess.
*
Casey stirred methodically as he looks at the various kitchen ingredients and messes that his counter tops had become. It was funny how things turned out. Eager to join the marines as soon as he could when he graduated from high school; he had spent more than half his life being one person. Alexander Coburn: the big brother, the protector, the young man who thought he could change the world and make a difference, the soldier, the best goddamn sniper the marines have been able to produce. Also unfortunately and officially dead.
The early days of becoming John Casey had been a strange adjustment. He had learnt to answer to a different name, to bury his old identity deep within and just get on with it because the world doesn't stop, doesn't ever stop turning or travelling around the sun and it makes him painfully more aware of how fragile mortality is. Man is the cruellest animal. John Casey: NSA special-ops, the assassin and Keller's pride and joy, the lone wolf and Angel de la Muerte was no different.
There were a myriad of other cover personalities and names that he had used throughout the second part of his life; Casey quietly contemplates as he pours the fruit cake mixture into the mould. It was surprising he would end up living with someone who actually knew who he was before he was part of the NSA and it is a relief that he doesn't have to be John Casey when he's around Chuck, just Alex Coburn, a boy who had barely become a man himself but had all of John Casey's the worldly experiences to draw on to make him a better man.
The fruit cake replaces the pies in the oven and Chuck lets out a small sigh of relief, glad to have Casey's dependable solidarity because it spells the safety of the kitchen. Chuck stands over the kitchen sink as he starts washing all the kitchen utensils that had managed to accumulate there, leaning his head on Casey's shoulder when he stands next to Chuck to quietly dry. They work together, the sound of the oven thrumming and the splash of water provide sufficient background noise even as they both considered everything and pondered about nothing.
Chuck lets out a satisfied sigh and hangs the wet tea towel he had used to wipe the benches clean to dry near the oven, stretching and feeling the way his muscles ache pleasantly. He stands by the dining table and smiles at the sheer amount of food they had managed to prepare to serve the small army that would fill his courtyard in a few hours. "We're finally set, my feet are killing me," Chuck declares and watches as Casey ignores him to prepare the last of the Christmas puddings, "I don't know how Ellie manages to do this every year or how you ever find the time to cook anything more complicated than mac and cheese. Everything aches." The last sentence predictably paints a particular lecherous smirk on Casey's face but the NSA agent wisely doesn't choose to add anything in particular to that, instead choosing to open the front door and start ferrying the finger food outside onto the tables.
The Buy More guys were still outside, arranging the fairy lights and electrical equipment though progress was slowing down as they did what they all did best - procrastinate. Casey found himself growling as soon as he spots Jeff and Lester dithering about on the stage as they started their sound check. Just as soon as he thought he had escaped from the pair of idiots at the Buy More, his entire night would be filled with Lester's girlish screaming (calling it singing would be an insult) and Jeff's drunken backing yodels (calling it vocals would be equally as insulting). His fingers twitched to curl around the gun hidden in the waistband of his pants to save everyone the misery reminding him of Christmas the year before.
*
[The Year Before]
Whoever thought giving him a retail cover job was a good idea should have been fed their toes and be covered in honey and left in a desert to die, Casey decided as he moved television after television after television for customers shopping for last minute gifts. His hackles were raised to deter any more moronic customers from asking where the electronic toothbrushes were when he was clearly standing amongst fridges and wondering how natural selection had not managed to wipe out at least half of the shoppers in the Buy More then and there. Team Bartowski hadn't gone on a mission for over a week and there was an undeniable itch that he couldn't seem to get rid of not even if he had started to visit the local gun range religiously after his shift because Jeff and Lester's rendition of Jingle Bells had left Casey unamused with the lyrical changes. He ached for General Beckman to announce that his services were needed in Kandahar or Kyrgyzstan - just anywhere that wasn't Burbank stalking the aisles whilst his ears were slowly tortured one bad song at a time.
He was used to the universal law that spies don't do public holidays because of the sheer fact that bad guys don't seem to do them either. That was the belief he had always entertained until this year. It appeared the newsletter for nefarious evildoers had finally gotten around that Burbank was not the choice location for said nefarious deeds. Casey had never entirely bothered with Christmas; to him it was simply another week of commercialism taking advantage of the sheep-like public and signalled the end of yet another miserable year. A bottle of scotch and his bonsai as company were really all Casey needed to tide him over till New Years and not even Chuck’s rather infectious good mood could change that. Though, a happy Intersect was an easier to handle Intersect - not to be mixed with the tipsy and drunk Intersect varieties which often brought a whole new level of fun to the table and Casey was fond of small miracles.
"Casey. Here!" Speak of the devil and he shall appear before you. Casey turned around to find a cup of eggnog pressed into his hand and raised an eyebrow as Chuck cast a quick look around to see if anyone was hiding behind the fridge then pressed a fleeting kiss to his lips. This he met with a growl of approval. He hadn’t realised how easily he could become so deeply rooted in Burbank, the process sped up after Walker stopped pussy-footing around Chuck, who had finally come to realise a few things about himself especially when it came to his NSA handler. "I rescued this cup before Jeff could spike it with cheap vodka. He always has a habit of doing that after singing Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer."
Chuck beamed up at him after taking a long sip from his own cup and before he could stop himself, Casey had closed the distance between their lips again to take a sample the eggnog on Chuck's tongue. Hmm, decent enough but it was a far cry from the eggnog his mother used to make. Back when Chuck was still a small child and Alex was still a young teenager, there had been a hilarious incident involving Chuck get his little hands on the not so kid-friendly version of eggnog. James and Ellie - the troublemaker pair - had laughed themselves silly and Alex was saddled with the responsibility of finding activities to wear the kids out.
"... Anyway, I think I'm moving out soon." That got Casey's attention and he frowned for uncharacteristically tuning out Chuck's voice in lieu of a trip down memory lane to times that Chuck probably didn’t even remember himself. The nerd didn't seem to have noticed his lapse in concentration and presumed to explain the situation with Morgan and Alex taking the next step in their relationship by moving in together. Which Chuck thought would be a good time to move out so Alex could have her own room and he would not have to bear witness to another Bizarre Eye Mask Incident. Casey's frown deepened. He may trust Grimes to not make a cock up of this relationship but she was still his little girl and as he was entitled to be the over-protective father that Alex didn’t have, there were a number of things that were not okay with this picture.
Chuck leaned imperceptibly closer and nuzzled an ear with his nose, whispering conspiratorially into Casey's ear, "I was thinking that you could help me with the move? I know I'm going to need some ... muscle to move some of my gear." It appeared Chuck was adamant in moving out and stubborn enough to follow through.
"Where are you moving to?" Chuck gave him a small look and huffed before mentioning Ellie's name, knowing his reliable big sister wouldn't have the heart to cast him elsewhere. Casey could tell Chuck hadn't clearly thought this through entirely if he was going to move in with Ellie again especially with the spare room being turned into a nursery in preparation for Clara's arrival. "Numb nuts, you can have the spare room at my place. That way, at least I can keep an eye out for your skinny trouble attracting ass." Casey felt that was a more acceptable solution - he could keep the Intersect and not have to bug the shit out of Ellie's apartment because there was only so much baby's crying he could stomach.
"Something tells me, big guy, that you just might like my company in the long run," Chuck grinned up at him. Casey snorted at that, leaving the smug nerd to think of it what he will. He downed the rest of his eggnog in one gulp and reached around Chuck to cop a feel. He figured he'd fuel up before he signed Jeff and Lester's death wish for them.
"Heh. We'll see about that soon enough Bartowski. Get your shit together and I'll help you move in, if you make it worth my while."
"How about I start right now, big guy?"
It seemed Jeff and Lester had luck on their side this time around as Casey allowed himself to be dragged off the floor towards the storage room.
*
As if sensing his lover's quick rise into trigger happy territory, Chuck appears at his side and slips an arm around his waist, effectively stopping Casey from reaching around to pull out his SIG Sauer. Now without the apron, Casey could see Chuck had run upstairs to change into a more presentable shirt that opened deliciously at the collar that revealed too much skin that was begging to be licked. Damn, Chuck played dirty and his young lover was very aware of the effect the open collar had. "I hate it when you don't let me have any fun," Casey grumped as he fastidiously pulled his eyes away before he undressed the young man standing next to him with more than just his eyes.
Chuck laughed softly, "When your description of fun involves dead bodies, someone has to stop you."
"No one would ever find their bodies," Casey spoke hopefully gaining him another of Chuck's chuckles, eyeballing Jeff and Lester as they begin playing random chords. He raises his hands together and cracks his knuckles menacingly as soon as he had Lester's attention. It was gratifying to see just how fast Lester could whip his head like a meerkat, swinging his attention to everything but scary Casey.
"Unfortunately, I need them at the Buy More since it wouldn't be much of a herd if it’s just me. Play nice John," Chuck gives his lover a quick kiss before extricating himself from around Casey and loping up onto the stage to offer his assistance with the last minute decorations. He watches as Chuck rolls out the extension cords and smiles to himself as the courtyard is quickly finished with Chuck's help. Various bits of tinsel and sprigs of mistletoe were taped up everywhere, the latter likely by Jeff's doing to optimize his luck with Ellie’s female doctor friends, Casey notes with disgust as he set plates of food onto the rest of tables.
The first of the guests that Casey recognises is Sarah, who arrives in a slinky blue number and hanging off the arm of one Cole Barker. The last he had heard on the grapevine about the MI6 agent, he was supposed to be deep undercover in the beautiful hills of Hungary. Either Cole had finished earlier than anticipated or MI6 also had a penchant for giving their agents Christmas off too. He had come to terms with wanting reassignment to the middle of Afghanistan or Iran where all the action was, shacking up with Chuck being one of the more primary ones these days. Southern California provided him with enough sun and it kept his trigger finger happy and his family close by.
*
[2003]
"Merry fucking Christmas ladies." Captain Casey grumped quietly as he sat with his back against the low stone wall with the other men in his squad similarly arranged around him against the stone wall. His commanding officer gave each one of them the stink eye along with a menacing smile and Casey didn’t know if it was meant to be comforting or intimidating. "Another three months in this sandy shithole and we can all go home. So don't you fucking dare die on me or we'll be sending your remains in a bloody matchbox to your families."
He ran a loving thumb over the stock of his M60 machine gun and thinks half of the men around him wouldn't make it through to the end of next week. The solid weight of the fully automatic gun is the only comfort out here and Casey has entertained thoughts of naming it something frivolous, even if he were to be buried with it if he died. Of the other men in his squad, he wondered just how many of them had also abandoned their former lives to join Keller's Black-Ops program, probably every one of them. He let out a soft sigh and closed his eyes as the minutes continue ticking away past the midnight hour.
"Something to add there Casey?" The low growl in his CO's voice implied there better not be anything.
"No, sir," he replied obediently like the good soldier he was programmed to be. The men huddled down together as the night stretched on completely devoid of motion and noise. In a warzone, the natural habitants were always the first casualties.
Casey found his thoughts flitting to Kathleen and his family. It had been a good decade since he had enlisted in the marines and was deployed overseas. He tilted his head back far enough to see the starry night sky twinkling down at him and wondered if they would be seeing the same sky soon enough when night fell over America.
If Casey was the kind of man to believe in Christmas wishes he would have wished for Kathleen to meet a guy that would treat her better than he ever could, for Jammy to not follow in his footsteps and join the marines and for his ma to not miss him too much because pa wouldn't be there to make sure she'd be ok; for Ellie to realise her dreams of becoming a doctor, for Morgan to grow up (yeah, Casey figured that one might be a bit of a long shot) and for Chuck to become whoever he wanted to be because he could do anything if he put his mind to it.
Yeah Christmas wishes don't really exist but it was a nice comforting thought all the same.
*
He watches like a hawk as Morgan arrives with his arm around his daughter, picking her up after work in a show of gentleman courtesy. Casey couldn't help the small smile on his face as she brightened upon seeing him and the moment she wraps her arms around him. Casey knows he isn't programmed to be a father but it definitely gets easier being a dad when Alex is so eager to have one in her life.
"Glad you could make it," Casey speaks with a soft smile on his face as soon as she breaks the hug long enough to kiss his cheeks. It was the kind of emotion that both Chuck and Alex were determined to get him to show a lot more of in the past year. What they didn't know was that Casey couldn't seem to stop the displays of affection just by being around them; he figures he'd never hear the end of it if they got wind of that.
"Now Dad," that word always made Casey feel rather squishy on the inside, "I wouldn't miss Chuck's cooking for anything in the world assuming he hasn't burn anything this time around. I know you told us to be gentle with him about the risotto a few months back, but I do prefer to spend my Christmas without food poisoning." Alex gave her father an apologetic look even if she was just speaking the truth. Casey answered with a grunt that implied 'you and me both'.
It was time for Morgan to step in, never one to take critique about his buddy very well without giving the source an earful, “Hey now, where’s the faith in my buddy? I’m sure this will be a Christmas Feast to remember and for all the right reasons. For one, Chuck’s been making your dad lunch every day as practise and either he’s got a stomach of steel or it could actually mean Chuck is improving,” Morgan spoke emphatically as he folded his arms over his chest in a very Casey like manner. He had an almost blind trust in Chuck’s inability to do any wrong and Casey smirked at the mere mention of Chuck making him lunch every day. The daily practise had actually helped somewhat even if the most elaborate of lunches had been last night’s leftovers. Casey didn’t mind all too much being the guinea pig to Chuck’s culinary delights.
"And two, your dad's mini quiches are so legendary that my buddy wouldn't dare to mess it up, right Casey?" Morgan beamed at the lack of a response from his best friend’s lover and continued, “So everything’s peachy keen Alex because if I know Chuck as well as I know I do, Chuck wouldn’t knowingly poison us anyway. So, uh, buddy. What isn’t cooked by Chuck here tonight? You know, just as a precaution.” Casey gave Morgan a roll of his eyes before moving away, deeming it fairly unimportant if Morgan was the first one to go down even if he was his daughter’s boyfriend and his lover’s best friend (he wouldn't go as far as regarding Morgan his friend even if he has known the kid since the first day Chuck had started kindergarten). It was always humorous to see the bearded loser squirm.
*
[The Year Before]
“You know when I suggested we all go to the beach and just take a weekend off with everyone, I suggested it with all intents and purposes to actually have fun right? Being a proper friend and spending a day in the sun with family kind of day, not spending an hour in the beach changing room or getting shot at by terrorists,” Chuck asked as he pulled his beach bag out of the trunk of the Crown Vic, recalling the day's events. Casey smirked in reply as he reached around Chuck to take out his back up gun back for maintenence.
“Didn’t hear you complain about the changing room whilst we were in there, tiger.”
Chuck turned an attractive shade of pink, spluttering a number of intelligent noises in retaliation much to Casey’s amusement. “Yeah well... That was before we had to run down the entire beach in a very Baywatch-esque way, away from your very and might I add very pissed off friends. Remind me again why every time we try to do normal things like go out on a date or to a public beach it ends up involving lots and lots of guns,” Chuck asked drolly as he closed the trunk and turned to head back to their apartment.
Casey made quick work of locking up his car and slid a warm arm around Chuck’s waist. “Told ya before, you’re the poster boy for friendly fire.” Chuck tried to twist out of his hold indignantly only to find himself trapped against the wall opposite the mailboxes with a very enthusiastic NSA agent distracting him with kisses. He knew this method and was rather well acquainted with the execution in the subtle art of diversions, grumbling as Casey settled for nibbling on his neck.
“Don't think I'm not onto you... I’d like to spend a normal Christmas weekend for once with you and Morgan and Ellie and ... ngh... Alex minus the gunplay. But if you keep this up ... right there ngh... y-you won’t hear me complaining if we f-find ourselves in a changing room again.”
*
“Evening Casey,” Cole smiles and offers his hand; Casey takes it heartily and shakes firmly. Sarah smiles on Cole’s other side and gives Ellie a small wave when the older Bartowski looks in their direction. “Fancy party you’ve got going. I heard from Sarah that Chuck’s the one in charge of the catering today. How is the lad in the kitchen?” Casey was willing to bet that wasn’t the only thing Sarah told Cole but let himself relax a little around his partner and her current love interest.
“He won’t become a high paying chef anytime soon but he’ll do,” Casey replies with a little bit of pride in his voice. Sarah momentarily abandons the men to say hello to the few friends she knows, leaving Cole and Casey to talk about world politics and other manly things like the weather and swapping alcoholic beverage recipes.
Sarah returns with plates and hands them out as she ushers them to get in line for some food. “I’m sure you wouldn’t have let him organize something like this if you weren’t confident in his skills John,” Sarah speaks as she delicately picks one of everything and makes sure both Cole and Casey’s plates were similarly piled high. “Though I’m sure Chuck was very, uh, persuasive in his techniques about letting him do this.” Her cheeky smile grows wider when Casey doesn’t bother correcting her. Cole chuckles all knowingly and the three spies soon find themselves standing in a comfortable corner near Casey’s door, eating and chatting. It was more Cole regaling his European tales, Sarah chatting amicably and Casey genuinely enjoying himself as they moved between discussions of the latest firearms on the market to speculations of what Roan and Diane were up to (the latter topic was something Casey didn't enjoy as much).
“Well I wouldn’t have to worry about you facing starvation, mate,” Cole spoke as he busily licks his fingers clean of crumbs, “Chuck’s got my vote if we ever need a caterer.” Sarah agrees as she spears a piece of chicken off Cole’s plate and pops it into her mouth, chewing with a bright smile when Cole leans in as an act of rescuing the chicken. Casey regard the pair with what could be mistaken as mirth and raise an eyebrow at their antics, noticing how relaxed they were in one another’s company as they share a very sweet kiss. He knew that the Sarah and Shaw thing would end in disaster before it even started and as usual, Casey had been on the money. Beefcake definitely had his vote when compared to the other Casanovas that waltz into Sarah's life like natural disasters.
What had so far been a rather pleasant evening mingling (not so much as indulging in a drink on Casey’s part) was interrupted by a strum of an electric guitar as Jeffster took the stage to a very mixed reaction by the crowd. Cole's questioning look has Sarah explaining the long history of disasters that Chuck's fellow Nerds had partaken in or were the direct cause of. Chuck appears at Casey’s elbow as if sensing his special skillset in placating trigger happy NSA handlers would be required very soon. Chuck barely got in half a word of his greetings before he was whisked away.
Thankfully, the idiotic duo provided Casey a very good reason for slipping away from the mingling and coincidentally before his temper lead to situations when he really couldn’t un-kill someone. Sarah and Cole feign innocence when a worried Ellie asks the whereabouts of both Chuck and Casey, preferring to sit around by the fountain feeding one another Chuck’s rather brilliant cooking.
*
[2003]
A knocking at the door startles Ellie out of the light doze she was in after returning from an eighteen hour shift at the hospital. She's still in her blue surgeon clothes and since she lives with Devon and now her brother, it hadn't occurred for her to change into something more comfortable. “Gimme a minute,” she slurs and stands up to stumble towards the door and opening it. She blinks blearily to rid the sleep that clings to her eyelashes and she hides a yawn behind her hand. “Can I help you?”
A man in a pressed pristine pinstripe suit fills out the doorway; his badge is clipped to the chest pocket of suit jacket and shows that he’s one of the feds. There is an all too familiar grin on his face and he looks as surprised as she feels when she recognises the face of an old friend. “Ellie? Eleanor Bartowski?”
Her hand flies to her lips as she pieces together the blonde hair and startling blue eyes that once twinkled with unspoken mischief were now tempered down by years on the job. “Oh my god, Jammy is that you? What are you doing here? How did you know I live here? Please come in,” Ellie says all at once and moves to the side to let him in.
“It's good to see you Ellie. I was just in the area doing some follow up and thought to visit after all these years. You know, working so close and never dropping by just didn’t sit right with me but there wasn't ever the time,” James speaks as he takes the offered chair at Ellie’s table. She slips into the kitchen to put the kettle on and pulls out two tea mugs. “It’s been far too long. You look… well positively shit, but I guess that’s to be expected with all the hours you’re pulling, huh? Resident yet?”
Ellie laughs and runs a hand through her sleep mussed hair as she goes to shuffle some of the magazines off her counter tops. She really needed to have a word with Devon about him leaving his various concoctions lying about; placing the blender into the sink where other pieces of crockery sat that needed washing. “Soon, if all goes well. I bet you feel like how I do right about now Jammy. When was the last time we saw one another?”
They quietly contemplate this and it suddenly comes to them that it had been their high school graduation nearly a decade ago. “A very long time, huh,” James huffs through his nose and rubs absently at his badge as he looks about the apartment. There is a definite lived in feel about the place and a variety of exercise equipment lying in the corner indicates she wasn't living alone. Ellie echoes her sentiments and busies herself with pouring the hot water into the mugs to fill in the contemplative silence.
A black and white striped mug appears on a coaster at the table by James’ hand and Ellie settles into the chair opposite him as she folds a leg around and sips from her mug. “How’s Chuck doing?” Ellie smile falters at the mention of her little brother’s name. It hadn’t been a good year for him between being expelled and dumped by Jill. She tells him of her well founded concern and James frowns at the university’s decision but otherwise says nothing as he nurses the tea in his hands.
“He’s working at a Buy More now. I never thought he would end up in retail when he had so much potential at Stanford. I just don’t want him to be stuck at a dead end job for the rest of his life, you know?” Ellie sighs at the end of her small rant. Chuck had always been her responsibility ever since their mother had left and their father being so caught up with work that he barely even had time to sleep let alone his children before he left too. James pats the back of Ellie’s hand, understanding the expectations that she had.
“What about you? I remember how you wanted to become a marine after graduation like your brother.”
He takes a sip of the tea and explains the mundane details of his life as a tool for the government; braving four years of service as a marine and then studying international relations for another four and then the cushy job as a special agent for the FBI. James falls silent as he takes an extra-long swallow of tea at the mention of his older brother as it brings up images of the funeral. Even if he hadn't been as close to Alex as Chuck had been, he still missed him even after all these years.
“Oh Jammy,” Ellie sighs softly and takes James’ hands in her own, squeezing gently in comfort. “I’m sorry for mentioning him.” There is a blanket of anguish that settles so easily over them and Ellie is rather eager to dispel it somehow. The accidental death of Alex Coburn had left a deep mark on everyone that had known him as well.
“How’s Kath? Have you spoken to her? Last I heard from her was before I left for UCLA. How's her baby?”
James nods and smiles like the proud uncle that he is. “She and Ma talk often. Alex is so much like him, beautiful spirit. They named her after him. She’s turning thirteen soon and still won’t give up on getting a pony for her birthday. Sometimes I think it hurts Ma when she’s around her because Alex is a reminder of him but I know it’s gotta hurt some before it can get better.” There’s a small wistful smile on his face as he thinks about his niece and Ellie wonders if James is also feeling a little lost without his older brother. She pats the back of James hand because she could admit that she missed him and the advice that he used to give.
They speak of other small mundane things and Ellie finds she is rather glad that her old best friend had sought her out for a nice cup of tea. She’s grateful that they haven’t lost their connection as friends and it isn’t until Chuck returns from his shift that she realises just how much she had to tell her old friend during that time. James stands up, thinking he had overstayed his welcome but is rebuked by the combined forces of two Bartowskis and is easily coerced to stay for dinner.
As the three of them prepare for dinner, Devon joins them after his own shift at the hospital is finished. He is initially astonished to find an FBI agent in their kitchen but it’s all fine because it’s awesome that Ellie and Chuck knows someone like Mulder and Scully from the X-files. James explains they don’t quite deal with extra-terrestrial life with a laugh but compliments Devon on how diligent he is with keeping his body in shape. The four of them settle in to a meal of spaghetti and reminisce about old times, slowly getting to know one another again and reconnecting as adults.
*
The door is barely closed before Casey strides purposefully past Chuck, growling, “Honestly. I may not celebrate Christmas but those two idiots are ruining it for me,” as he sets his plate down onto the dining room table where he could find it later. Chuck shakes his head solemnly and wonders which lucky deity was responsible for Jeff and Lester’s new lease of life again before thanking them silently for the rather delectable sight of an annoyed Casey. There was just something about angry Casey - especially when he wasn’t the direct cause of it - that was incredibly sexy.
Chuck fills the silence with small talk, pretending he doesn’t notice the way Casey had turned around and was giving him a once over with eyes that are far too blue and filled with carefully masked lust. Why yes the apple rhubarb pie was a little bit on the undercooked side and why on earth is it that you appear to be undressing me with your eyes?
That second part, Chuck wisely says within the safe confines of his head and he leans casually against the back of their couch, pretending not to notice the way Casey’s gaze is travelling from his black Chucks, up his casual dark jeans and had contemplatively stalled at the open collar of his dress shirt before finally meeting his eyes. The smirk on Casey’s lips distracts Chuck’s line of thought and he is fascinated with the way those lips twist into something tender. His feet are immediately drawn forward by the beckoning curl of Casey’s fingers and Chuck doesn’t stop moving until he is pressed chest to hip with Casey.
“I don’t think I’ve thanked you yet for being my sous chef earlier.”
The soft low baritone purrs in Chuck’s ear, “My pleasure,” fingers run through Chuck’s curls and gentle finger tips play with the soft hair at the nape. Casey takes his time memorising each and every feature of Chuck’s face, but every so often those blue eyes would always home in on one particular location. It wasn’t a stretch of the imagination where Casey’s obsession lay as his gaze flickers downwards to appraise Chuck’s mouth. Chuck runs his tongue over his lower lip and then his upper one as he wonders what Casey was thinking. The sharp intake of breath and the low rumble of enjoyment that may have been a figment of his imagination.
“John-“
The rest of Chuck’s words are swallowed up when the man in question finally leans in and catches the corner of Chuck’s lips, then tilts his head to finally tease Chuck’s mouth open in a lascivious and languid kiss. The type of kiss that never fails to make Chuck’s knees weak as Casey’s wet tongue slips between his lips and elicits the most delicious of moans from the younger man. His hands rest on the collar of Casey’s black jacket (the same one that emphasises the broadness of his shoulders and does incredibly funny things with his libido) whilst his fingers curl in upon themselves as he is entirely dominated by the skilful motions of Casey’s tongue in a filthy and very messy kiss.
Time loses all meaning to Chuck as he gets lost in the maelstrom of want, surrendering control willingly as large hands ghost down his back over the thin barrier of his dress shirt. The path is lit by the warmth that exudes from his palms as the surreptitiously slide down to grab two handfuls of skinny geek ass. The surprised gasp is lost amongst the low approving purr and Chuck greedily sips on oxygen when Casey’s talented mouth moves away from thoroughly kiss swollen lips, heavy eyelids slowly coaxed open by the phantom feel of the tip of Casey’s nose nuzzling his cheek. Chuck hadn't even realised he'd closed them earlier.
“Now that is how you thank someone,” Casey purrs with satisfaction and waits patiently for the Intersect to file that one away in its memory banks as Chuck’s brain slowly reboots. Conditioning Chuck to respond to positive feedback had taken a very interesting turn and the debauched state of the nerd that made him hum with approval again. The geek has the gall to smile cheekily back at him, eyes maintaining a slightly glazed look as the younger man fought the wave of arousal that clouded normally bright hazel eyes.
“I-is it now? I wasn’t paying attention during the demonstration and I feel a repeat performance would be beneficial to the learning process, if you don’t mind.”
“I’m sure we can come to a mutual agreement.” The lop-sided grin on Chuck's face instantly draws Casey’s attention to those lips and the NSA agent carefully lowers Chuck over the back of the couch then closes the distance between their mouths again and entertains Chuck’s tongue in an entirely different manner. Heh, positive feedback.
*
[The Year Before]
Sleepy Casey is one of Chuck’s favourite kinds of Casey because the normally hard lines that form on his face are smoothed away by rest and his mouth is unusually pliant that allows Chuck to plunder and direct the course of the morning’s activities. That ranges from disappearing under the covers as he suckled his lover to full attention to being flipped onto his back with his legs flung unceremoniously over broad shoulders and Casey makes him feel it all day long at the Buy More that distracts him in ways only the NSA agent could achieve.
Today, it’s a quiet weekend that they had looked forward to spending together for a long time coming but had kept setting it back as pressing situations crop up that leaves Chuck frustrated with coincidences that were entirely too deliberate for his liking. His personal life always took a backseat when issues involving national security was concerned. Yesterday’s mission had ended successfully without much of a hassle and whilst he enjoyed the adrenaline fuelled post-mission sex, their slow and unhurried love making that had lasted well into the early hours of the morning were the times he cherished more.
Usually on weekdays, Casey would be up at the crack of dawn and have stripped the blankets off his naked body, barking at him to get up and get dressed for their morning run. How Casey was such a cheerful morning person Chuck would never know as he bumped his way off walls like a pinball towards their bathroom where warm water would help get all his systems up and running.
Then there are the rare days that Chuck is the one to wake up first, staring and admiring a sleeping Casey from the way long eyelashes curled to the way the sheets twist just so to hide everything but one hip down to the elegant way Casey’s legs stretch out on the other side. He can’t stop himself from looking or the tight feeling in his chest that makes his heart trace funny beats against his rib cage whenever he looks at Casey whether it be at the Buy More or on missions even when he should be focussing on doing his Intersect things. But Chuck just can’t help it and he knows he's too far gone and had no intention of turning around.
Still, weekends are good days and he reaches a hand out to run fingers through the hair that falls over Casey’s forehead, sweeping the strands into some semblance of order. Looks like someone needed a haircut, Chuck mused as he blithely ignores the way he may need one too before more zoological shapes could be traced out. Casey grumbles something intelligent in his sleep before turning over and away from the offending sunlight, baring his back to face Chuck.
With a fond smile, Chuck invades the warm spot left behind and spoons up against Casey as he presses a soft kiss to the nape of Casey’s neck. He can’t resist nuzzling that spot there and inhales the scent lazily before committing it to memory. Breathing in all of Casey leaves him feeling a little bit foolish but nevertheless he is the hopeless romantic of this relationship and Chuck can’t bear to consider that one day Casey wouldn’t be there. It had already happened once before and Chuck had such a vivid recollection of that day as a child. He was certain and eager to never have to relive it as an adult.
He curls an arm around his lover and quietly runs his fingers over Casey’s abdominal musculature, marvelling at the chiselled ridges that Chuck had never been able to achieve as a teenager or a young adult with his lanky form. Everything had been lean and so much different from Casey's impressive form and invariably, his long and dextrous fingers chart a path for southern waters causing his lover to stir. Casey’s voice is hazed from sleep, “Chuck?”
He presses closer against Casey’s back, marvelling at the warmth that radiates from him and presses his mouth against a shoulder blade. “Morning. Sleep well?” There’s a soft hitch in Casey’s breath as he wraps his fingers tighter around a very interested party and pulls lazily.
“Yeah. Dreamt about you,” Casey moans softly as he stretches like a jungle cat (it’s still a toss-up between a tiger or a panther, but Chuck doubts the specifics matter to Casey anyway). The moves gracefully show off the way Casey’s muscles ripple underneath his skin and Casey the show off knows how much Chuck enjoys that.
Chuck feels another lazy grin cross his face and finds himself face to face with Casey, his wrist never stops their lethargic ministrations on Casey’s cock. Like everything about John Casey, he was thick and long and it never fails how utterly distracted Chuck could become just by being in Casey’s close proximity. He swallows thickly before replying, “Oh? I hope it was a good dream.”
The feral look on Casey’s face speaks volumes and a small plastic bottle appears mysteriously in Casey’s hand, his gaze drawn to the way the clear lubricant slides over Casey’s fingertips before they disappear inside his body and worked to relax at Chuck’s sphincter muscles. “You were tied up, all pretty like,” Casey began as he looms over Chuck and twists his fingers just so that causes him to gasp, “Kept begging me to fuck you over and over. Do you want that? Want me to fuck you into the mattress hard?”
A whimper tears itself from Chuck’s throat and his body (traitor!) widens himself further, legs spread on either side of Casey and putting himself on full display for his lover. The crook of long fingers inside him sends him gasping for air. “J-John…please…”
“Yeah, just like that.” Teeth gently tugged at an earlobe and a large hand shoots out to bind Chuck’s wrists together, pressing them into the headboard of Casey’s large bed. He feels the muscles work as Chuck opens and closes his hands uselessly; a small impatient wriggle of his hips has Casey questioning how long he could torture his lover before he came just from the wicked writhing. Casey quickly calculated it was going to be a very quick fuck at the rate they were going and prepares Chuck as quickly as he could. “Love it when you beg.”
“C-Casey! Would you just hurry up-” The younger man tries to sound indignant but it comes out as an exasperated squawk when fingers are pulled out of his relaxed body. There are a number of threats Chuck could be making at this juncture but his synapses are failing him at this juncture that there is little Chuck can do but struggle futilely against Casey’s impromptu bonds and arch his back up to get any kind of friction on his straining erection.
“Patience is a fucking virtue,” Casey chimes merrily as he rips the foil with teeth and quickly sheathes himself in latex using his one free hand, a feat that he will boast about later along with his double entendre when the call to line up his cock and fuck Chuck seventy two ways into Sunday hard weren’t at the forefront of his mind.
Chuck holds his breath as Casey presses his impressive length inside inch by torturous inch and lets it all out in a surprised gasp by the snap of Casey’s hips that causes long fingers to dig into their bed sheets to match the bruising grip on his hip. “Fu-uuuuck,” Chuck hisses as he jerks his hips awkwardly to match the rhythm Casey’s rolling hips even as a firm hand pins him into the bed sheets causes him to moan with frustration. His eyes slip down to half-mast on their own accord as he pants through his open mouth because of the delicious friction between his legs.
With a firm tug, Casey pulls Chuck further down the mattress and grinds down into that wickedly tight body underneath him, drawing out a wanton groan from the younger man as the larger man presses his wrists into one of their pillows. “Glad to see you have a firm grasp of the situation eh,” he dips his head down with a pleased growl and covers Chuck’s lips in a sloppy kiss, fucking his mouth in fluid motions to the same staccato rhythm as he fucks into Chuck’s pliant body just the way he likes it. And from the way Chuck wriggles and urges Casey for faster and harder and right there, he knows just how much Chuck is enjoying this.
There is something explicitly beautiful about watching Chuck turn to putty, deriving filthy little mewls from that typically noisy mouth of his that spreads smug warmth in his belly because Casey knows he is the direct cause of Chuck’s lost sensibilities. He sweeps his tongue along Chuck’s lower lips and succumbs to the need to possess Chuck in every way conceivable, from his cock inside Chuck all the way up to their gasping mouths up to their entwined fingers after Casey loosens his bruising grip around Chuck’s wrists.
Chuck jerks upwards suddenly with a cry and paints his stomach in ribbons of white, and Casey purrs with satisfaction as he slides the hand on Chuck’s hips up to stroke and milk Chuck for what he's worth. The way Chuck tightens around him spells the glorious end for Casey as he mouths a line down his pale neck to bite into the junction between shoulder and neck, sucking down hard when he slips off the cliff into the coiling pool of ecstasy deep in his stomach with a soft groan of Chuck’s name.
He resists the urge to collapse onto his lover and keeps himself upright using one hand through sheer will alone, loving the satiated loose smile on Chuck’s face and nips at the soft skin on Chuck’s neck. When Chuck twines his fingers through the back of his hair and pulls him down regardless, Casey takes that as an open invitation to remain inside Chuck longer as he takes Chuck’s hand to press soothing kisses to his wrist.
Ending Notes I'm not entirely sure how many parts this will end up being. There's at least two parts that I want to write but if you guys have any requests for scenes that you want to see how it plays out in this AU please feel free to prompt and let me know! More badly written pr0n to come C:
[ Chapters | Part 1 ● Part 2 ● Part 3 ● Part 4a ● Part 4b [END] ]