Girl Talk [For Dean]

[one__song]

Ever since the night at the Catscratch, Roger's life had been somewhat less complicated. Well, apart from the stuck-on-an-island bit, but after almost 5 years of that, it was hardly a complication anymore. All of the beach walking kept his muscle mass up (well, more up than he would have been in New York) and Anatoly definitely kept a bit of that

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[weary_head]

"Mgh." It was the first word uttered by Dean when he finally managed to extract himself from his bed, and the first word when he ambled out into the main room.

"Coffee," was the second, followed by, "You are the perfect wife," as Dean gripped his cup and drank deeply.

[one__song]

That "mgh" as it growled through the hut was the telltale sign that somewhere, a Dean Winchester was waking from slumber, or so Roger's upcoming Discovery channel special would report. It would also include that the way to not anger a Dean Winchester first thing in the morning was to have strong, black coffee waiting for him. That, or nookie, which Roger was not quite prepared to provide. For many reasons.

"Fuck you," Roger said lightly, waving to the seat across from him. "Got the last edition of the Times if you want to make it a complete domestic morning." And with that, Roger took a quick sip of his own battery acid ambrosia.

[weary_head]

"Oh yeah?" The chair scraped loudly against the floor as Dean pulled it out, prompting a wince and another long drink. "What's the news? Mangoes are in season and so are flirty, floral prints?"

[one__song]

"Shitty 80's prints," Roger corrected, gesturing to the godawful checked shirt he was subjecting himself to on that particular morning. Hey, it was laundry day. Well, it had been for a few days and Roger didn't feel like trekking. "You could read that Zep book again if you want a change of pace."

[weary_head]

Dean could recite it, but still he gave the idea serious consideration. "N'aw," he said finally. "Angua said if I read it again she's gonna nail it to my eyeballs."

He took another sip of coffee, then looked past Roger to his bedroom door, wondering for the first time if he was supposed to be keeping his voice down. "You got a baby faced boy toy in there?"

[one__song]

Roger had the good grace to flush a bit. "No," he said lowly, clearing his throat before lifting his gaze back up to his best friend. "He's - uh - playing chess. He left a little while ago."

[weary_head]

"Always chess," Dean murmured. "Why do I get the feeling that's like porn to him? Is that what you guys do in there?" Dean nodded towards the door and met Roger's eyes. "Play chess?"

[one__song]

A chuckle over the lip of his coffee cup later, Roger's eyes were dancing. Dean had a way of simplifying things in the most perfect, un-ordinary way. "It's like guitar to me or like... family to you." Roger shrugged, closing his notebook. "We learned pretty quick I suck hard at chess. But not chess."

[weary_head]

"Uh huh," Dean grunted. He rested his cup against the table and hollowed his cheeks. "What else do you suck hard at?"

[one__song]

Too amused, Roger contained his laughter jut enough to retort a, "bend over and I'll show you." He raised a brow in retaliation before disappearing behind his coffee again.

[weary_head]

"Baby, you say the sweetest things." Dean's foot shot out under the table, bare toes creeping up Roger's leg beneath his pajamas. "I bet we've got at least thirty before Angua comes home."

[one__song]

The sheer speed with which he went from being alone in his personal space to when Dean was caressing him made him start a little, but that wore off quickly.

"Really?" Roger challenged, leaning forward onto his elbows. "You wanna play me at a game of gay chicken?"

[weary_head]

"Not really," Dean chuckled, letting his foot drop. "Keep your mayor of gaytown crown. And pour me some more coffee, bitch."

[one__song]

"'S what I thought," Roger said, getting up to snatch up the coffee mug and pour them each another cupful. "I'll have your dick in my mouth before you'll know what hit you." He sat back down, smirked at his friend, and stretched out in the chair.

[weary_head]

"Wouldn't that be the gay stick?" Dean returned, but then he had more coffee and was forced to spend the next several moments exchanging O faces with his cup.

"S'good."

[one__song]

"S'better than what I was used to at home," Roger corrected, his eyes darting toward the window. It looked like a nice day, but on the island, every day was either really nice or really fucking weird. Like when they were in Russia for a week or whatever.

"So what's up? I feel like I haven't seen you in weeks."