Fic: Teach Me How to Get Along
Title: Teach Me How to Get Along
Author: mummyluvr314
Rating: G
Pairing: Dean/Nick
Summary: It’s been two years, and Dean still hasn’t said those three little words that he once wanted so desperately to hear. Something about that just doesn’t seem fair.
A/N: The twentieth chapter in my schmoop_bingo ‘verse, written for the “Winter Holiday” prompt. The title is from “All I Really Want” by Steven Curtis Chapman.
Disclaimer: The show and characters are not mine. So please stop asking.
Previous Chapters: Wanna play catch-up with the castaways? Check out the Master Post!
Gabriel was two years old, and utterly fascinated by the brightly-lit tree in the corner of the living room. She crawled over to it every chance she got and rifled through the hastily wrapped presents or batted at the shiny ornaments.
Her fathers watched her from the couch, practically sitting on top of each other in an effort to stay close, to assure the other that it was real. The illusion of a perfect family was something Dean was used to, something he feared for some reason that he refused to reveal to Nick.
The older man didn’t need to know the cause of Dean’s fears, just needed to know that they were there in order to fight them. He tried so hard to make things easy, to make sure that the younger man knew he was loved and cared for, that Nick sometimes forgot his own fears. Forgot that Dean still hadn’t used the L-word, even after nearly three years together. He forgot how nice it had been to know for certain that someone loved him despite his flaws and his past.
It would have been nice to hear.
He wasn’t going to push, though. He didn’t need to ask to know that Dean had trouble with the words because no one had returned the sentiment, that everyone the hunter had ever told had left him in the end. Like he was cursed.
Gabe toddled over from the tree, climbing up into their laps and tilting her head back to grace them with a smile. She was rambunctious, always getting into things she shouldn’t be, and on a perpetual sugar high. They loved her anyway.
They both said it, both told her all the time. She’d started saying it back a few months earlier. Nick couldn’t help but smile until he noticed the scared look in Dean’s eyes.
“You ready to open presents tomorrow?” Dean asked.
Gabe smiled. “Pressens,” she said, eyes sliding over to the tree and everything piled beneath it.
“Tomorrow,” Dean reminded her, “after Santa comes.”
She nodded sagely up at him. “Santa.”
Dean smiled. “That’s right.”
Nick wrapped an arm around the younger man, pulling him closer as his own gaze drifted toward the tree. Dean was a hard one to shop for. He didn’t want the kinds of things that people usually asked for, didn’t want a new power saw or pair of pajamas or a laptop. He asked Nick to read aloud from whatever book he happened to be engrossed in before turning in for the night. He wanted a kiss on the forehead instead of the lips before bed. He wanted someone to take care of him, but he rarely asked, and even then he did so in such a roundabout way that it was difficult to decipher what he really wanted.
But Nick tried, and he supposed that counted for something. He hoped it counted for something.
He’d gone out and bought the largest stuffed bear he could find. It was wrapped and under the tree already, waiting for the hunter to find it. Nick hoped it was right, hoped there was a deeper reason Dean kept one of Gabe’s teddy bears in their room (“In case she gets scared and comes to sleep with us.” “Dean, she can barely walk.”).
Gabe, forever hyper, slipped from their laps and crawled back to the tree. “Candy,” she said, pointing to one of the striped canes that had been strategically hung up out of her reach.
“Tomorrow, Sweetie,” Nick said as Dean laid his head on the older man’s shoulder.
Gabe crossed her chubby arms and pouted. “Candy.”
Dean smiled. “Some things never change.”
“Like us?” Nick asked.
“You’ll be forever middle-aged and pudgy.”
Nick elbowed him gently, grinning. “Love you.”
Dean sighed and leaned closer. “Love you, too.”
“Love!” Gabe shouted from her spot by the tree. “Candy.”
They laughed.
Author: mummyluvr314
Rating: G
Pairing: Dean/Nick
Summary: It’s been two years, and Dean still hasn’t said those three little words that he once wanted so desperately to hear. Something about that just doesn’t seem fair.
A/N: The twentieth chapter in my schmoop_bingo ‘verse, written for the “Winter Holiday” prompt. The title is from “All I Really Want” by Steven Curtis Chapman.
Disclaimer: The show and characters are not mine. So please stop asking.
Previous Chapters: Wanna play catch-up with the castaways? Check out the Master Post!
Gabriel was two years old, and utterly fascinated by the brightly-lit tree in the corner of the living room. She crawled over to it every chance she got and rifled through the hastily wrapped presents or batted at the shiny ornaments.
Her fathers watched her from the couch, practically sitting on top of each other in an effort to stay close, to assure the other that it was real. The illusion of a perfect family was something Dean was used to, something he feared for some reason that he refused to reveal to Nick.
The older man didn’t need to know the cause of Dean’s fears, just needed to know that they were there in order to fight them. He tried so hard to make things easy, to make sure that the younger man knew he was loved and cared for, that Nick sometimes forgot his own fears. Forgot that Dean still hadn’t used the L-word, even after nearly three years together. He forgot how nice it had been to know for certain that someone loved him despite his flaws and his past.
It would have been nice to hear.
He wasn’t going to push, though. He didn’t need to ask to know that Dean had trouble with the words because no one had returned the sentiment, that everyone the hunter had ever told had left him in the end. Like he was cursed.
Gabe toddled over from the tree, climbing up into their laps and tilting her head back to grace them with a smile. She was rambunctious, always getting into things she shouldn’t be, and on a perpetual sugar high. They loved her anyway.
They both said it, both told her all the time. She’d started saying it back a few months earlier. Nick couldn’t help but smile until he noticed the scared look in Dean’s eyes.
“You ready to open presents tomorrow?” Dean asked.
Gabe smiled. “Pressens,” she said, eyes sliding over to the tree and everything piled beneath it.
“Tomorrow,” Dean reminded her, “after Santa comes.”
She nodded sagely up at him. “Santa.”
Dean smiled. “That’s right.”
Nick wrapped an arm around the younger man, pulling him closer as his own gaze drifted toward the tree. Dean was a hard one to shop for. He didn’t want the kinds of things that people usually asked for, didn’t want a new power saw or pair of pajamas or a laptop. He asked Nick to read aloud from whatever book he happened to be engrossed in before turning in for the night. He wanted a kiss on the forehead instead of the lips before bed. He wanted someone to take care of him, but he rarely asked, and even then he did so in such a roundabout way that it was difficult to decipher what he really wanted.
But Nick tried, and he supposed that counted for something. He hoped it counted for something.
He’d gone out and bought the largest stuffed bear he could find. It was wrapped and under the tree already, waiting for the hunter to find it. Nick hoped it was right, hoped there was a deeper reason Dean kept one of Gabe’s teddy bears in their room (“In case she gets scared and comes to sleep with us.” “Dean, she can barely walk.”).
Gabe, forever hyper, slipped from their laps and crawled back to the tree. “Candy,” she said, pointing to one of the striped canes that had been strategically hung up out of her reach.
“Tomorrow, Sweetie,” Nick said as Dean laid his head on the older man’s shoulder.
Gabe crossed her chubby arms and pouted. “Candy.”
Dean smiled. “Some things never change.”
“Like us?” Nick asked.
“You’ll be forever middle-aged and pudgy.”
Nick elbowed him gently, grinning. “Love you.”
Dean sighed and leaned closer. “Love you, too.”
“Love!” Gabe shouted from her spot by the tree. “Candy.”
They laughed.