Chapter 1: Dean/Baby
It was official, his brother was insane. Sam knew Dean loved his car. He took more care of that car than he did himself. Still, this was ridiculous. The only one who didn’t know was Dean.
After a few months of driving around some other ‘lesser’ cars (Dean’s words, not him) it was finally safe to drive the Impala again. They’d made a pitstop along the way back to it so were arriving on Valentine’s day. Sam thought it was going to be like any other Valentine’s Day, where Dean went out to a bar, got drunk, hit on something he could fuck and then do the dirty back at her place. Whatever, so long as Sam didn’t have to deal with it, since Lucifer liked to pop up at inappropriate times to remind him things. More than once he’d shown up and just said “your brother is doing that girl in the back of the car.” Sam had wanted to gouge his eyes out at the mental image.
He was surprised when Dean bought flowers. Who the hell was he going to give flowers to? He hoped not him. That would be wicked awkward. But no, when they got to the Impala Dean just went, “Miss me baby?” and ran his hand on the hood of the car. That was rather normal behavior actually, and Sam just popped the trunk to start loading the weapons.
“D-Dean, what are you doing?” Sam choked out when Dean set the flowers on the hood and pulled out… was that a Valentine’s Day card?
“My love is like a cabbage,” Dean said, reading from the card, and Sam pressed his hand to his face. “Divided into two. The leaves I give to others, but my heart I give to you,” and he stroked the hood of the car.
“…Dean. That is a car,” Sam said.
“Shut up Sam,” Dean said gruffly. Sam just sighed, threw up his hands and walked away. He should probably give them some ‘alone time.’ Man why was his brother so damn weird?
Chapter 2: Desmond/Salai
This short fits into another story I wrote called Clipped, and I would consider it canon :)
Salai peered into the room carefully. He wasn’t sure if Ezio and Altair were in, you could never be too sure as they were as silent as owls in the night. But no, no one was there. Just Desmond, laying on the bed, looking bored and fidgeting. After his stunt in which he had gone out to see Malik when he’d shown up to talk to Altair he’d been ‘grounded’ and Altair had said he was supposed to stay in bed and rest. Desmond was sort of… sulking.
He knocked lightly to draw Desmond’s eye and the other boy brightened at seeing him. “Salai,” he sort of loved the way Desmond said his name. It sounded foreign and exotic when he said it, his voice always tainted with the Rifter tongue that his brothers had lost more than him. “What’re you do here?” Salai smiled and slipped into the bedroom, closing the door soundlessly behind him. Yeah, he loved Desmond’s accent and speech pattern, it was so… childish and cute.
‘I brought you something,’ he said one-handed as he padded to the bed.
‘Really?’ Desmond asked back, dropping the verbal speech all together, it was easier that way really, since Salai couldn’t talk. Desmond said he felt being the only one having a conversation.
Salai nodded, before shyly signing, ‘Do you know what today is?’
Desmond just looked confused, ‘Should I?’ he asked back, his fingers a bit clumsy, just like he was in the tongue of Salai’s country. Salai huffed a sigh and looked down, but glanced up when he saw Desmond start. ‘Sorry. Tell me, please?’
Salai grinned at him, ‘It’s a holiday in this country. It’s called Saint Valentine’s Day.’ Desmond’s mouth popped open, “oh,” he said and then motioned for Salai to continue. ‘You ask someone special to you-’ Salai felt his face heat up a little, but Desmond just looked at him with that innocent earnestness Salai knew him for. ‘-to be your Valentine,’ his hands shook just a little. Desmond nodded attentively, looking nowhere but at Salai’s hands and he suddenly felt self conscious.
“And?” Desmond asked, forgoing the foreign language for his own native one. “What do you do on-” ‘Saint Valentine’s Day?’ he had to sign that last part since he had no idea how to say it in either tongue.
Salai gave him a shy look, ‘Well. Valentines’ give each other cards, and gifts.’
‘Really? This sounds like a cool holiday,’ and then without even missing a beat he continued, ‘Will you be my Valentine Salai?’ Salai felt himself turn bright red, all the way to the tips of his ears and he didn’t even know how to answer. ‘You said you asked someone special to you,’ he signed.
‘Well you’re special to me, and I doubt my brothers would understand,’ Desmond signed cheerfully. ‘Or do you not want to be my Valent-
Salai quickly covered his hands with his own, leaning over to stop him. Salai’s heart was beating very fast now and his blush hadn’t vanished yet. ‘No, I’d love to be your Valentine,’ he signed slowly. Desmond beamed at him.
“I don’t have a gift I can give you though, sorry,” Desmond said aloud since Salai was still blocking his hands.
‘It’s okay,’ Salai nodded and then reached behind him, ‘But I have one for you.’
“But I didn’t get you anything. That isn’t fair,” Desmond said.
‘Well you can share it too,’ Salai said one handed and held out a heart shaped box. As Leo had all his groceries delivered it hadn’t been hard to get the box sent along and go unnoticed, since Salai did all the ordering as well as handled all the food. He held it out to Desmond who took it and opened it. His confusion was adorable. ‘It’s chocolate.’
Salai blinked at him, it had never occurred to him that Desmond wouldn’t know what chocolate was. ‘It’s good,’ he just said and helped Desmond open the box.
“They look like poop,” Desmond said and Salai laughed, Desmond grinned at him.
‘They aren’t,” Salai said and picked one out. Desmond opened his mouth and a fresh wave of heat crashed down across Salai’s face. He hesitated than put the chocolate in Desmond’s mouth.
“Mmmm,” Desmond said, “I like them. Definitely not poop,” and Salai sniggered. Desmond held out a chocolate and after a moment Salai let himself be fed, and Desmond popped another into his mouth with a sound of appreciation. ‘They’re awesome,’ he told Salai.
‘I’m glad you like them,’ Salai said, barely able to even look at Desmond. After a second Desmond took his hand and threaded them fingers together.
‘I wouldn’t mind being your Valentine every year,’ Desmond said with a smile, suddenly way too close and for a mad second he thought the Rifter was going to kiss him. He wouldn’t have minded… no not at all. Salai nodded and leaned closer—
“Desmond,” they jumped apart at the sound of Altair’s voice from the door as he pushed it open. “Oh, Salai,” he frowned at him. Altair didn’t really like him (but he didn’t like anyone but his brother so Salai forgave him that), “Shoo, I have to talk to my brother,” and Salai cast a quick glance at Desmond before getting up off the bed and shuffling past Altair. Altair closed the door behind him and Salai sighed. Oh well, at least this year he had a Valentine.
Chapter 3: Desmond/Clay
Sometimes it was hard having a boyfriend like Clay. He was like an alien conspiracy theorist he saw on TV, only a bit less insane. A bit being the key word there. Clay was still a bit nuts, but at least he wasn’t the nuts that pinned and taped pictures and newspaper clippings to the wall and connected them with tacks and pieces of colored stings. As a history buff he was more the sort of nuts that believed in things like the Da Vinci Code. Not exactly like that, but along the same vain, since everyone knew the Da Vinci Code was fiction.
Clay also didn’t believe in holidays. At all. He said they were just government and ‘The Man’ to control people. Telling them what to think and feel. He always spouted off on them when Desmond brought them up during the rest of the year. But say it was… Valentine’s Day, Desmond couldn’t get a peep out of him against the holiday. At least Clay knew that even though he thought it was crazy some people did like to celebrate.
It didn’t stop Desmond from buying a bottle of middle shelf champagne and an obnoxiously large, heart shaped, box of chocolates. Clay was sitting in front of the TV when he came home from work, having pleaded and begged to not get the late shift so he could go home and have an actual Valentine’s Day with his boyfriend.
“Hey there you,” he said falling onto the couch next to the blonde. “I have bubbly, and sugar, which shall we open first?” he asked grinning.
“Bubbly,” Clay drawled and ran a ran through his hair. “How many single men hit on you tonight?” he asked without heat, Clay wasn’t a jealous type. At least not on fucking Valentine’s Day.
“About a dozen. They were super pathetic,” Desmond said working off the cork and the bottle went ‘pop!’ when he got it off. Clay snorted and leaned against him as Desmond took a sip of the champagne right out of the bottle and handed it to him. “You have a good day?”
“Found what I thought was a wire tap in my office.”
“So the usual,” Desmond smirked.
“Yeap,” Clay knocked back a long drink from the bottle. “I know I usually don’t. But I got you flowers.”
“You did?” that was more surprising than not.
“Yeah, I thought I was being followed,” that made Desmond snort. “Ducked into a florist and decided ‘what the hell?’” and he waved the bottle and little. Desmond saved it before it could get everywhere.
“Where are they?”
“They’ll be here tomorrow.”
“So much for Valentine’s flowers,” Desmond grinned against the mouth of the bottle.
“They’re coming,” Clay sulked and nuzzled into his shoulder. “Besides, you brought the chocolates and the bubbly on the day. When I ever on time for anything?”
“Shy side of never,” and Desmond gave him a peck on the forehead. “Good thing I’m so understanding.”
“Amen to that,” Clay agreed. “So you ganna open that box or am I going to have to?” Desmond just chuckled and motioned for him to break open the box as he took another swig.
Chapter 4: Altair/Ezio
... I don't write Altair/Ezio usually. I was so flaily when it came to writing these two. And writing Malik as strait was... strange o.O
Altair sat down on Malik’s couch with a silent huff. His entire body radiated ‘bad mood’. Malik, who was still standing by the door, and looking after Altair having brushed past him. “Sure Altair, come on in,” he groused. Altair didn’t even grunt in response. Oh, this was bad. The fact that Altair was here and not with his boyfriend on Valentine’s Day (and Malik had his own girlfriend to worry about damnit) meant that something was wrong.
He walked over to Altair and sat down next to him, “So what’d he do?” he asked carefully.
“What do you think he did!?” Altair snapped.
“Should I really answer that?” Malik asked him before looking over at his friend and was surprised how seriously upset Altair was. Not like… about to cry upset. More like he’d just gone through a wringer and needed a hug and maybe a warm glass a milk. “Really, what he do?” he asked in a more gentle tone.
Altair took a deep breath, “For starters-” oh boy, “Sophia was over his place last night. All night,” strike one, “Then when I called him out on it, he denied it,” strike two. “And then he said to not worry about today, that he had something great planned.”
“Let me guess,” Malik said, sitting back against the arm of the couch, facing Altair, “You coming over to his place and fucking?”
“AND THAT WAS IT!” Strike three. Well at least he knew why Altair was upset. He pressed his hands to his face with a deep sigh. “And Rosa said he was a hopeless romantic. Romantic my fucking ass,” he grumbled and Malik wasn’t quite sure if he was supposed to hear, but he did.
“Are you sure he wasn’t planning anything else?” he prodded. Altair shook his head. “Also why the hell are you still with him when you think he’s sleeping with Sophia?”
“Because she said they weren’t. I wouldn’t trust him by his word, since he was half way into my pants before breaking up with Rosa. But if Sophia said they aren’t, they aren’t,” Altair sighed and propped his chin up on his hands. “I guess I should have guessed a player will always be a player. Asshole,” he growled.
“Uh-huh,” Malik said as his phone beeped. He pulled it out.
‘Tell me Altair’s with you,’ was Ezio’s text message.
‘If he is?’
‘He left his phone at his house, I was worried.’
‘Maybe he wouldn’t have if you hadn’t fucked today up so royally.’
‘…Shit.’ ‘Did he tell you? It isn’t what he thinks!’
‘Than fix it’ and Malik put his cellphone away, glancing at it beeped one last time with a ‘I’m trying!’. “So why’d you come here?” he asked Altair, “I have a date tonight you know. You can’t stay here.”
“I thought my oldest friend would be sympathetic,” Altair pouted at him.
“I am Mr. Sympathy,” Malik said. “But I have to go pick up the flowers I ordered before I go out tonight,” he sent Altair a look.
Altair made a face at him, “Shame you aren’t gay,” he said and Malik kicked him, slightly playful, slightly annoyed. “I’ll leave when you want me to. Can I just chill here though?”
“Fine,” Malik said and got up from the couch saying he had to get ready. He took a shower and got dressed, asking Altair’s opinion on colors of shirts and ties. Hey, he had a gay best friend, he should be good for something right? As he was buckling on his pants he heard someone knock on the door. “Get the door newbie!” he called, a throwback to days in middle school when Altair had been the awkward, new, foreign kid. He heard Altair get up and he quickly grabbed his wallet, phone, and keys as the door opened.
“What’re you doing here?” Altair demanded, standing in front of the door that contained Ezio on the other side.
“I was worried,” Ezio said with a frown.
“Yeah, I bet,” Altair folded his arms and shifted his weight hard to one leg. Damn Altair could be a stereotype sometimes with that hip cock.
“I’m sorry, okay,” Ezio blurted out. Well, Malik wouldn’t have expected that out of Ezio in a million years. “Sophia was over last night because she was helping me with something.”
“And what was that?”
“It was a surprise,” Ezio said, fiddling with his fingers. Altair didn’t seem impressed, man Ezio was so whipped. “For you.”
He watched Altair soften a little, “What is it?” he demanded. Ezio produced his iPhone and showed him a picture. It was too far away for Malik to see what it was. Ezio looked hopeful as Altair looked at it. “You aren’t off the hook,” Altair said.
“Oh c’mon,” Ezio whined, “Was it the ‘we’re just going to do it’ thing? I wasn’t serious.”
“He doesn’t have a sense of humor Ezio,” Malik chimed in, Altair glared at him, “He thought you were serious.”
“I wasn’t,” Ezio said quickly and Altair looked back at him. “I was going to tell you where we were going for dinner, but you hung up on me, and then I guess came here,” he glanced at Malik before looking back at Altair. “So… are you still mad?” he asked.
Malik couldn’t see his face, but he knew Altair was thinking. Then he sighed, “No, I’m not,” and Ezio brightened considerably.
“Great. Our reservation’s in an hour, uh,” he gave Altair a look up and down, “You’re sort of underdressed.”
“While this is great and everything,” Malik chimed in. “I do have to go pick up a bouquet for my girlfriend. So if you could finish this outside,” and he shoved Altair out and into Ezio. Fucking idiots. Malik locked up quickly, “Remember protection kids,” he called back but didn’t get an answer. When he got to his car he glanced back and grinned a little, Altair had his arms around Ezio’s neck and Ezio had his lips planted firmly against his.
Malik opened his door and slid into the driver’s seat before closing the door with a slam, startling them.
Chapter 5: Altair+Rauf
He wasn’t surprised, or upset, that he was alone for Valentine’s Day. Rauf didn’t care about some dumb minor holiday like Valentine’s. He was in the firm belief that it was just a way people made money and reason to buy candy. He planned on buying his candy the day after, when it was all on sale.
Since he was currently single he’d decided to have a single party. Though only one other person was invited. Altair was in one of his ‘off’ periods with his long time train wreck of a relationship with Malik where they were on and off every few months like a bad trip. Malik had gone back to go visit his parents, that’s how bad this current off period was, but Rauf could still invite Altair.
So like any understanding friend. He had. ‘Luring’ Altair to come have something less than a pity party with him with the promise of cheap booze and expensive hash. Altair wasn’t a real drinker, but he, Malik and Rauf himself had become friends in college because they all enjoyed getting blasted. And Rauf always knew where to find the best stuff.
Rauf had a twelve pack of beers chilling in a cooler by the TV and was setting up his hookah when the bell rang. He hopped up and opened the door. Altair looked a little sour, and maybe a bit bitter since he and Malik had never been broken up on Valentine’s. It was like an unwritten rule, they sucked it up on February fourteenth, ate too much chocolate, bought each other flowers, went out to a fancy restaurant and then fucked each other’s brains out till neither of the could remember the year, let alone the day. Or at least that was Rauf’s take on their otherwise ‘healthy’ relationship.
“I want to forget today happened,” Altair said as Rauf let him in.
Rauf laughed, “Well, I think I can handle that,” he said and Altair settled onto the couch. Rauf tossed him a beer and finished setting up his hookah. “Hockey’s on,” he added.
“Lets watch the violence of a bunch of white people beating each other up on the ice,” Altair said, raising his can. Rauf chuckled, and sat next to him. He turned on the TV and gave the remote to Altair to find the correct channel. As he did so Rauf tested the smoke till he was getting big white clouds. They passed it back and forth a few times before settling in to watch the game.
Chapter 6: Azrael/Samael
Two Supernatural OCs that show up in... basically all my SPN fics.
They were taking a break from demon hunting. Even as angels even they got tired, even they got a break. They’d stopped in this little town in the middle of the Great Plains, they were back in America again after having spent a few years hunting along the South Pacific rim for demons that had escaped the initial culling in Hell after Lucifer took over. The place was decked out in pink and ribbons and there were hearts everywhere.
Next to him Samael was looking into a window display, pushing some of that blonde mop he called hair out of his face as he looked in. “I don’t understand humans,” he huffed.
“Now what stupidity are they up to?” Azrael asked and ran his fingers across Samael’s shoulders.
“A holiday revolving around giving hearts to each other. It’s barbaric,” he made a face at the window and then looked at Azrael.
Azrael giggled, just a little, he was allowed after all since Samael could act petulant at times. “They do silly things sometimes Sam, you know that,” he was always more understanding of humans than Samael was, always more kind and willing to forgive. Forgive humans that was. It’d been half a century and he still hadn’t even started to forgive the host for what they’d done. “And I think it’s more about giving hearts and flowers to a sweetheart than giving each other hearts.”
“Oh,” Samael looked thoughtful for a moment, before being distracted by a group of girls, talking like they meant to be whispering but really meaning to be heard, and looking at them. Azrael saw the hackles rise up on Samael’s neck, his wings shifting (invisible to the humans) in agitation, since the girls were talking about them. Or really Azrael, who was currently wearing the body of his old vessel’s grandson. The only reason being was that if he wasn’t the young man would have died in a car accident. Bri hadn’t been the most forgiving when she’d found out.
“C’mon,” and Azrael grabbed Samael’s hand and dragged him away before he did something stupid to get them and Lucifer into trouble. “Touchy, much,” he said as they stopped a block away at a gathered crowd of people lining the road. Maybe ‘crowd’ was a little liberal, as the town looked barely big enough for a crowd.
Samael wrapped his arms around Azrael’s waist and put his head on his shoulder, fitting himself between Azrael’s folded wings. “I don’t like it when stupid meat monkeys look at you like that,” he said into Azrael’s ear. They both looked as music got closer. “You’re mine,” he said possessively and gave Azrael a squeeze.
“I’m not going anywhere,” he promised and Samael pressed his face into Azrael’s neck. The music drew closer and they watched a marching band go by.
“What’s this dumb holiday even called?” Samael asked as the band was followed by some top down cars with girls in big poofy dresses riding in the backseat waving.
“Valentine’s Day I think,” Azrael said. “And it isn’t dumb. It’s an excuse for people to give each other candy and chocolate.”
“… is that why you wanted to come here today? You wanted an excuse for more candy,” Samael huffed as if discovering a dark plot. Azrael just smiled at him. Samael did his best to look put off, but he didn’t do a very good job, “Okay Mr. Sweet-tooth, lets go find you some sugar,” he said unwinding his arms from Azrael’s waist and taking his hand. Smiling still Azrael leaned over and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Samael blinked once before saying, “I think I can learn to like this holiday,” and Azrael laughed at him even as the blonde pulled him away from the parade.
Chapter 7: Alex/Desmond
Desmond sort of… hated Valentine’s Day. Mainly because he’d never really had a normal one because he was always on the move, always changing places. He preferred to either stay in on Valentine’s, that or be working and catering to the poor souls who were alone on Valentine’s (like him) and silently hating all the couples who came into whatever club or bar or restaurant he was working at at the time.
This year was different. This year he wasn’t alone on Valentine’s Day.
Not that it seemed to change much. Alex seemed to not want to make a big deal about it. He hadn’t even mentioned it to Desmond and while Desmond knew he should suck it up and not be a total girl about it… it kinda hurt his feelings. He had work that day though so didn’t even see Alex (Alex was always gone during the day (doing whatever it was he did to help pay rent) and Desmond worked nights), but he’d left his boyfriend a card and a cheap box of chocolates in a lame heart shaped box. He might have hated the day, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t celebrate.
He came home late, it was past midnight when he finally got off shift, and sort of just wanted to curl up next to Alex and go to sleep. The night hadn’t been kind, the bar full of guys without dates and who were drinking their feelings. It had been more than a little pathetic. He was surprised to come home and saw that the lights weren’t off, at least not all of them. The one in the kitchen was on and he felt a big dumb smile burst across his face at what he saw on the counter. It was pretty much the biggest, gaudiest bouquet of roses he’d ever seen.
“Alex?” he called softly towards the bedroom, where the door was cracked, not wanting to wake him if he was asleep. A moment later the door swung open, but nothing in the apartment moved. Desmond clicked off the light in the kitchen and went to the bedroom, which was dark inside.
The light flicked on an Desmond turned red, “Hey babe,” Alex said with a smirk on his face. Desmond made his eyes stay there, and not on the fact that Alex was sitting on their bed in black boxers with hearts on them. Usually he was asleep at this hour so this was actually unexpected. “Happy late Valentine’s Day?” he asked cheekily and Desmond felt the urge to smack him (not hard, he wasn’t into that freaky kinky shit) and kissing him.
“I hate you,” Desmond felt himself saying.
Alex grinned widely, “Come show me how much,” he taunted. Desmond faked an annoyed huff and walked over to the bed.
Chapter 8: Desmond/Subject 16
Desmond had been in some weird rooms in the black room, ones he’d rather just not look at again… ever. Fuck there was a lot of shit he really wished wasn’t around. But this one might be one of the strangest.
He’d washed up on the shores of Animus Island a bit ago after fighting his way through a cloud of corrupt data and more of Ezio’s memories. Like his ancestor Desmond couldn’t seem to catch a break. Maybe it was a family thing, since Altair hadn’t either, and who else down the line had been fucked over by life? Desmond didn’t know, and he was pretty sure he didn’t want to. He’d expected Sixteen to show up again, but he hadn’t, so Desmond had wandered, looking for what he needed to move forward.
That led him to this room. He was wary of it, but not for a reason you could guess. For starters it was fucking filled with flowers, every inch of the big room just filled with them. The floor had been carpeted in tulips he knew (somehow) were long extinct, growing out of the very ground. In boxes along the walls were roses and sunflowers, and other flowers he couldn’t name, all growing in the soil, and the room itself had a big yellow dot at the center of a bright blue ceiling that radiated the same heat and light of the sun. The only places to walk in the room were on paving stones in front of the flower boxes, or on carefully placed stones amid the carpet of tulips.
What the fuck crazy memory was this?
Carefully he stepped onto the nearest paving stone. It made a chime tone, glowed a dull light for a moment then when dark again. Okay… weird. He stepped onto the next one, they all made a bell tone as he stepped on them, glowing faintly, and then going dark and silent when he stepped off them. He made his way over to a bush with tear-drop shaped leaves that were serrated on the edges, though not sharp, with the biggest pink flowers he’d ever seen. Each flower had a long stamen coming from the center covered in yellow pollen.
“Fancy meeting you here,” Desmond started and turned on the paving stone at the sound of Sixteen’s voice. The blonde had that sly-fox grin on his face as he stepped onto one of the stepping stones and made his way over to Desmond.
“I didn’t know you gardened,” Desmond said blandly.
“What can I say?” Sixteen shrugged, “I have a green thumb,” he raised his right hand and… his thumb was green. It was such a lame joke Desmond didn’t even laugh. “Oh c’mon Des, that was golden,” he said now in front of Desmond and giving him a playful push on the shoulder.
“Only tarnished gold,” Desmond replied.
“Now that wasn’t even funny,” Sixteen said. “You like?” he asked indicating the room.
“Is this what you do when I’m not around?” Desmond asked.
“Guy needs a hobby,” Sixteen shrugged.
“Well,” Sixteen got into his ‘it’s story time so pay attention’ tone and Desmond was torn between just zoning out and paying attention. “I have this ancestor, amazing lady, from the thirties. I don’t have a lot of memories from her though, just a few. Abstergo didn’t need much from her once they found out who the father of her child was,’ he shrugged, “but anyway. She wasn’t an Assassin, she was a florist, and she had this little flower shop in St. Louis, right over a speakeasy. My favorite memory is the day she met her husband, on Valentines day, he walked into her shop, she asked what she could get him and you know what he said?”
“No, but I know you’re going to tell me.”
Sixteen smiled toothily, “He said ‘baby, I want whatever flowers will make you say yes to being my Valentine today’. Isn’t that cute?”
“Doesn’t explain your flower obsession,” Desmond said, though really, it was sort of cute, very old-timey and charming.
“It’s like my only memory of her, I have rooms for all my ancestors, reminding me of them, and reminding me who I’m not. It helps.”
Desmond blinked and then nodded, “Sounds healthy enough. What’re you doing here now? Couldn’t have me wandering around your memories on my own?”
“Nah, you don’t need me to get lost,” Sixteen shrugged, “You know what the internal computer says today is?” He didn’t even give Desmond a chance to answer, “February fourteenth.”
“Oh,” that just made Desmond feel bad because he couldn’t remember the last time he’d had a Valentine.
“Want to be mine?” Sixteen asked suddenly.
“What?” though Desmond got it.
“Be my Valentine?” he said, “I got all the flowers you could want,” and he spread his hand out to include the entire room of flowers.
Desmond gave him a long look before shaking his head with a smile, “You’re totally nuts,” Sixteen just beamed at him and took it as a ‘yes’. Desmond wouldn’t tell him otherwise.
Chapter 9: Dean/Castiel
Sam was out on a food run, Dean was watching one of his favorite spanish soaps. Sammy said they rotted his brain. Screw that, he could sort of understand them, he was learning spanish! Hell, not like it didn’t help his Latin a whole lot. His booted feet were propped up on the more than slightly shitty ottoman in the hotel room, drinking a beer and in general not giving a fuck. His brows lifted slightly when he heard the familiar whoosh that sounded like wings that signaled the arrival of an angel. He glanced to the side and Castiel was standing there, as awkward as always.
“Hey Cas,” Dean said, tipped the mouth of his beer at him and took a drink.
“Dean, come with me,” Cas said.
Dean raised a brow at him, “Cas, a little busy,” he nodded at the screen. Castiel didn’t look impressed, the TV turned off by itself. “Hey!” Dean yelped and thumped his feet down onto the ground, shooting Cas a sharp look.
“You can watch tragedy’s later, Dean,” Cas said. “Come with me, now,” and he held out his hand.
Dean eyed it suspiciously, “You aren’t going to zap me are you? You know I hate that.” But when Cas didn’t answer Dean just sucked it up, huffed a sigh and after putting his beer down reached for Castiel’s hand. Barely a heart beat after they were gone, and reappeared somewhere else where it was sunny out and the air smelled clean. Dean didn’t recognize where they were but it somewhere he could only describe as beautiful.
“Sam told me that today’s the day people give people they care about flowers and chocolates,” Castiel said, with that damn pokerface of his. “I thought it would be too much of a waste to-
“Cas,” Dean interrupted him, “Don’t ruin the moment,” and he hooked his arm around Castiel’s shoulders. They were standing in a vast field of flowers of all all colors so that the ground looked like a floral carpet. In the distance there was the start of a forest, and beyond that what looked like purple mountains. Maybe they were in the Rocky’s.
“Happy Valentine’s Day Dean?” Castiel seemed unsure if he was doing the right thing.
Dean smiled, “Yeah, Happy V-Day Cas,” Dean said, and tightened his hold across his shoulders as they stood there looking at the vast field of flowers.
Chapter 10: Altair/Malik
Altair had made Malik promise, promise, they weren’t doing anything for Valentine’s day. It wasn’t that neither of them weren’t romantic (it was sometimes disgusting how romantic they were (Sam liked to complain they made him nauseous)) it was just that Altair didn’t want to make a big deal out of the thing. Even years he had had a partner for V-day he didn’t do much, since there was always the looming threat of ‘I’m moving in a few weeks’ because of his dad.
So he’d made Malik promise they weren’t doing anything. Malik had relented and agreed they wouldn’t do anything. At school all he’d gotten was a kiss and a ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ when they finally saw each other in third period. That had been it. Just like he’d asked.
After school he’d picked Desmond up from elementary where he’d had to listen to tales of his little brother’s Valentine’s party and watch him almost vibrate out of his skin when he showed Altair the big stuffed heart Clay had given him. Altair thought it was cute.
He was making dinner for the both of them when his phone started freaking out. He got about twenty texts all in a row and his phone rang but before he could pick it up it stopped. Only to ring again. Scowling he opened the text messages, they were all from Malik. Each one only said one word. Meet- At- Seal-Beach.- Usual- Spot. Just over and over again. Then he got another few dozen messages, repeating the same thing. The last one saying ‘drop Des at my house. Kadar’s been paid $20 to watch him and shut up. Food included.’
That. Ass. Hole.
Altair called Malik, no reply. He called Malik a few more times, no response. He texted back, ‘no. You promised!’ He was just bombareded with ‘Meet At Seal Beach. Usual Spot.’ and ’drop Des at my house. Kadar’s been paid $20 to watch him and shut up. Food included.’ Finally Altair decided it just wasn’t worth all this fucking effort. ‘FINE! I’ll be there in twenty’ he texted back angrily. And the bastard sent him back a text he couldn’t even be mad at ‘love you too <3’
He dropped Desmond off at the al-Sayf’s and drove to the beach, trying to fume, but having a hard time doing so. The sun was setting out on the ocean as he pulled up to the pier and got out of his car. It was warm out and he shoved his hands into his pockets as he walked down the beach to the ‘usual spot’ which was where he and his friends usually met after school and Altair watched them catch waves, or bob out on the surf with them on a borrowed surf board. Altair spotted Rich’s giant pink umbrella jammed in the sand as he stomped over to it.
“You got a problem?” he called as he got near and Malik popped his head up from over Rich’s umbrella.
“Hey babe,” he said cheerfully.
“Don’t you ‘hey babe’ me. We agreed,” Altair said, letting him be annoyed, because he was.
“I know. I lied, it happens,” Malik said coming out from behind the umbrella, all smiles. Altair just whined, not happy when Malik took his hand but let him pull him around the umbrella. “Happy Valentine’s Day,” Malik said against his ear, looping an arm around his waist. Malik, the romantic sap he was (and knew Altair was too) had actually made them a picnic on the beach, laid out on two big beach towels, all contained a cooler.
“You asshole,” Altair said, still trying to play up being upset, even when he kissed Malik firmly on the lips.
“Mmmm,” Malik agreed and tugged him down onto the ground and once Altair had kicked off his shoes he pulled out this dinner. Sandwiches, with Cokes (in classy glass bottles) and a side of still warm mac n’ cheese from a thermos.
“So how long is Kadar prepared to watch my brother?” Altair asked, biting into the sandwich, which was hearty and crunchy and basically amazing.
“For twenty bucks?” Altair raised a brow at him and took a swig of Coke.
“And I promised to buy him pizza at some point.”
“Good use of twenty bucks,” Altair said and Malik chuckled. “He agreed to all night, hoping to get laid?” he gave Malik a look as he bit into his sandwich.
“I figured it wouldn’t hurt,” Malik said cheekily, sipping his Coke with a smug grin. Altair stuck his tongue out at him before giving a soft groan when Malik kissed him deeply as Malik stroked his cheek. “It working?”
“Mmmm, getting there,” Altair agreed and kissed him again.