I beat Dres downstairs. I half-think he's curled up with Lily and has decided to go to sleep, too. That, or he's run off and stolen her.

     I know that it's not the most absurd thing for someone to like babies. Dres just never really presented himself as someone who would. What's weirder is that I like it, that it makes me want to tie Dres down and have my way with him and then never untie him and just keep him forever. Clearly, the lack of sleep is getting to me.

     Or maybe the bleach fumes. I've sprayed a growing puddle of disinfectant on the kitchen counters, distracted by my thoughts. Setting the bottle down, I grab a handful of towels to clean it up. I've already packed away the containers of food and rinsed the dishes off, placing them in the dishwasher. It's funny because these are the kinds of tasks that would have taken me an hour to complete if I was closing at Weston's. Tasks I can clearly accomplish in a shorter amount of time. It's no secret I drag it out to have more time with Dres. No secret to anyone, but Dres, maybe.

     I'm rinsing out the sink when Dres creeps up on me, stepping close enough that it's an invasion of space, but not so much that there's any sexual insinuation behind it.

     I jump, dropping the sponge as my hand rises to my throat. "Jesus. Make a noise, would ya?"

     He's staring at me kind of funny. I can't tell what the expression conveys, but I look away, unnerved by it. I wring out the sponge before setting it on the ledge. "Finally got Lily down?" I ask, aiming for a calmer tone.

     "Yeah." He leans back against the island, crossing his arms. His head is turned so he's looking at me from his profile, analytically, like I'm a math equation that needs to be worked. I go still, not sure I like being worked like a math equation. Particularly when I'm struggling to make sense of this whole day and this version of Dres I didn't know existed.

     I feel like he wants to say something, but he doesn't, so I go, "Wanna watch a movie or something?"

     He nods, following me out of the kitchen. I grab the TV remote before taking a seat. I try not to think too hard about the space between us on the couch.

     I'm scrolling through the channels slowly, not paying close attention to the titles and click on the first thing that I recognize and know is interesting.

     As I lean forward to set the remote down on the coffee table, I ask, "Did you really want to see a movie tonight?"

     This time, Dres doesn't miss a beat.

     "Did you really want to have sex tonight?"

     My hand hasn't reached the table yet and the remote clunks to the ground, instead. I flinch from the sound, but otherwise don't move. My pulse ricochets against my veins. I turn to look at him. For the briefest moment, I actually consider not giving a direct answer. But then, I think about something Dres said to me, back when we weren't what we are now but I wanted us to be. If I'm not direct, how do I expect to get what I want?

     "Yes."

     My answer is a lot firmer than I feel. But now that I've said it (again), I don't feel so uneasy. What's the worse that can happen, I think. He says he's not ready or doesn't want to, and we don't have sex. It's not like I'm a person who's used to having tons of (or any) sex. I don't know that you can fully miss something you've never fully experienced.

     Dres is nodding, like this is what he expected me to say, but something about his expression looks relieved like he wasn't completely sure. "The movie's a cover."

     I reach down for the remote and set it on the coffee table before I slide back into the couch, turning slightly so I can look at him. "Oh," I say, my tone off. Too high for Dres not to notice. "The movie's a cover. That's good. That was quick thinking."

     So Dres is in. We're really going to do it.

     I roll my eyes because he's still staring at me like my mental state is fragile. "Stop looking at me like I'm freaking out. I'm not freaking out. I'm just...processing."

     "You're processing very loudly," he says, giving me a playful smile.

     "Well then stop listening."

     He shrugs. "I'm not trying to."

     "Yeah, yeah, it's no secret you can read my mind." I lean back against the couch, getting comfortable. He looks at me fondly. It's also no secret that he loves it. "Look, I'm both nervous and excited. Can I be both? Is that a crime?"

     Dres reaches out and touches my hand, finger tips grazing over my knuckles. "Don't be nervous."

     "Sure, yeah, I'll just stop being nervous because I'm so good at emotional control."

     Dres laughs because it's the truth. It helps lighten the mood and I can feel myself relaxing. My pulse returns to something closer to normal.

     "So," he says turning his gaze to the TV. "Winter Soldier, huh?"

     "Hell yeah, Winter Soldier. Don't sound so surprised."

     Dres smiles. "I'm well aware of your Bucky thing."

     "I don't know how everyone doesn't have a Bucky thing. It's Bucky."

     "Cap's better."

     "Shut up. You're crazy. And you're wrong."

     "I can't be wrong. It's my opinion."

     "Well, your opinions wrong. Bucky beats Cap. Hands down. And so does Stark. Cap's like low on the list here."

     "Stark's an asshole."

     "An endearing asshole. Like you."

     Dres jabs me in the side with his elbow.

     "Hey, watch it. You're bruising the goods."

     "Yeah, I'm going to bruise the goods, alright."

     "Wow, I sincerely hope that is as much of a promise as it is a threat."

     I slide down the couch some until I'm leaning against him. Dres wraps an arm around me like he was just waiting for me to move. I don't know that I'll be able to keep my eyes open for much longer.

     With his arm around me, his warmth becomes my warmth and I know I won't be able to keep my eyes open much longer.

     "Don't worry," I say quietly. "Dres beats Bucky."

     This time, it's my mom clearing her throat that wakes me from my sleep. I must have some kind of radar for my mother, because she cuts right through my dreams. I am suddenly wide awake and nearly fly off the couch trying to get off of and away from Dres. Somehow I'd ended up practically in his lap through the course of our, apparently mutual, nap session. Dres stirs but comes to much slower than me.

     Mom's standing at the other end of the couch, looking weirdly calm for having found us cuddled up on the couch. I guess it's better than finding us cuddled up in my bed or something. Not that it could've even been an option, given the two toddlers currently sleeping in it. Grandma's behind her grinning.

     "Hi," I blurt anxiously. "So you're back. Hi."

     Dres sits up behind me. "How was your dinner?" he asks smoothly as he moves to his feet, like he didn't just wake up and, you know, it isn't weird that my mom and grandma just watched us sleeping for who knows how long.

     "It was wonderful," Grandma Layne says, and it feels like she's not just talking about the dinner. "But I'm ready for bed." She starts backing out of the living room calling a good night over her shoulder.

      I sit up. Mom's still looking at us, eerily calm, like none of this offends her. "So," I say trying for casual and missing that mark by a mile. "We're going to catch that movie."

     She nods. "Okay."

     I'm trying very hard not to sound like I'm lying, keeping my face passive, as I say, "And I think I'll just stay over, that way I can actually get some sleep tonight." Oh, horrible lie. Terrible lie. She has to see right through it.

     Mom nods again. "That's a good idea." That's a good idea? I raise an eyebrow only slightly. "Alright, well, I'm exhausted. Dresden, it was lovely having you and your family over." She passes me to hug Dres. "Have a good night. I'll see you tomorrow."

     I'm still pretty shocked by the sequence of events here. "You'll see me tomorrow?" I repeat.

     Mom gives me a weird look. "You certainly need that sleep. You're slow today." Dres sort of chokes on a laugh. I shoot him a glare. Mom glances between us curiously but doesn't say anything as she walks out.

     "S'not funny," I say as Dres smirks at me. "Is it just me or was that too easy, like suspiciously too easy."

      Dres turns his head to the side. "You're complaining because it was too easy?"

      "Okay, I realize I sound crazy. But who just lets their kid sleep over at their hot older boyfriends place?"

      Dres raises both eyebrows. "Well, you've already stayed the night at my place." I look at him with an expression that says 'that is my point.' Dres asks, "You know the saying about the gift horse?"

      I scoff. "Yes, yes I do. Because my mom uses it all the time. This is probably why she's cool with me staying over because you guys are exactly the same person."

      He rolls his eyes. "Go pack a bag before I leave you."

      I'm grinning as I stand up and make my way out of the room. "Oooooh. The threats are coming out. Getting a guy in the mood."

      "Oh, is that all it takes? Good to know. Tonight should be quick, then."

      "Oh ha ha."

      Dres is waiting by the front door when I come back downstairs. I've got my sports bag on my shoulder, and he takes it from me as I grab my coat out of the front closet, shrugging it on as I lead Dres out. I make sure to lock the front door behind me before following him to his truck parked on the street.

     It's dark outside. Cold, too. The way it only gets in the winter, a sort of blue-black stillness, like the sun sucker-punched the moon before leaving. Dres unlocks the doors and gets in but I take a second to enjoy my cloudy breath catching in the air. He lowers the window.

     "What are you doing? It's freezing outside."

     I'm grinning as I climb in. "You've got strong paternal instincts, ya know that? Should I start calling you daddy?"

     Dres jerks the wheel, shooting me a sort of bewildered look. "Literally never."

     "I don't know, I kind of like it. Daddy Dres."

     "Please stop," he begs so I do. 

     "Honestly, I think it could work."

     "It can't," he interrupts.

     "You exude big daddy energy."

     "What does that even mean?"

     "It's like big dick energy."

     "You think my dick is big?"

     "That's not what I was saying but for the record, I know your dick is big."

     This quiets Dres but only because he's absolutely preening. It's not like he isn't fully aware of his own girth. He's been carrying that thing around with him for twenty-one years. I know he knows.

     "Are we definitely taking daddy off the table," I ask after a moment. "Because I just feel like in the right context, it could be really hot."

     "There isn't any right context."

     "Sure there is. Let me set the scene. I am very naked, legs spread, ass in the air and you are—."

     "Oh my god, Cas, please. I'm trying to drive."

     "Multitask. So as I was saying. Naked as the day I was born. Legs propped on your shoulders. And you're standing at attention, leaking enough precum we don't even need lube—."

     "We'll always need lube."

     "Don't interrupt my fantasy. You've got that look on your face that shreds every coherent thought in my head. And all I can say is—."

     "Oh god."

     "Sure, we'll go with that. All I can say is oh god, daddy, I need you inside me."

     Dres taps the breaks a little aggressively and then jolts us forward with a heavy foot on the gas. "Jesus, Cas."

     "Hot, right?"

     Dres turns to look at me, cheeks flushed, and mutters in agreement, "Definitely hot."