Work Text:
"So...," The reporter asked after a long time of just stare at them in wonder, with a certain undertone in her voice that spoke volumes of her nosy true nature "Are you guys dating?"
Aidan's breath hitched the exact moment a dozen pair of eyes looked at him.
The fan's excited mumbling died slowly and one by one each assistant centred their attention on him -on them-, their curious stares dictating that this wasn't something he could avoid easilly no matter how hard he tried (If he, in fact, tried), so the irishman just smiled broadly in a poor attempt to hid the sudden pull of nervousness onto his stomach and, breathing through his mouth loudly a few times, he ended up laughing kinda dumbly afterwards.
Dean, seated by his side as calm and fresh as if the matter at hand didn't involve him, hummed in a noncommittal way but said nothing. His pretty big blue eyes never left the woman's face, though, and Aidan had to conced he almost did look as if he were considering if such suggestion was supposed to be something for which he should felt affronted or not (the irishman did felt just a little bit offended then because of Dean's ambiguous attitude) and it was a complete wonder at which conclusion the other man had gotten at the end. Aidan didn't really know what to think about that /lack/ of reaction, nor did he felt like to assume anything. He grimaced.
"I'm sorry" said he after a while, eying with renewed interest anywhere but his former coworker, the reporter or the overexcited fans "What was that?"
" I..., no, i'm sure a lot of us are feeling curious to know if you and Dean, here present, are a thing. There've been rumors, you see, about you," he had no idea what kind of rumors she was talking about, but the evident puzzlement on his face was ignored by her excited babbling, and so his chance to ask how the hell the nice talk of how his and Dean's new projects after the Hobbit were going had ended up morphing in such matter was gone.
Picking his red nails with a mischievous look on her face she continued, her huge brown eyes turning somewhat a little more brightly in interest because of the flustered reaction he had offered her unintentionally.
"But there've been no one to confirm or deny such rumors, so i think this is the perfect chance to know the response to that given that you, as the very confiable source, can supply us with the answers we yearn."
Someone coughed in the crowd but the awkward silence remained for a while once she stopped talking in favor to give them time to answer; the brunete barely had time to wonder why Dean had say nothing nor did something at all to dismiss such weird conversation when a new feminine voice, coming from the crowd surrounding them, sounded out of nowhere in eagerness, urging him /them/ in a high pitched voice to let slip something.
"So are you guys dating, then?" She asked.
"Well..., this is certainly something. I almost envy their nerve, here" breathed the Kiwi for only Aidan to hear, shifting neatly onto his seat and brushing with the sudden movement of his upper body the brunete's arm.
The other man's world seemed to still for a heartbeart at their sudden closeness and in that brief moment of quietness Aidan took in a deep breath to calm himselfa bit, well aware that although there were expectant eyes on them all around and uncomfortable questions to be answered still and barely existent breathy noises given that everyone was trying to be dead silent to be able to hear what they would say next, Dean's little unintentional touch hadn't failed to make him feel..., kinda nervous somehow, and inexplicably warm within his stomach. With great relief he exhaled the breath he didn't know he was holding as the blond finally pushed away when he could settle himself better onto his seat, taking with him the unbearable feeling of his warm body, as calm as if he didn't know how much that simple contact had made Aidan's world tremble in yearning..., which, to be fair, he probably knew. The bastard.
There was no way to deny that it was an unexpected question, and surely Aidan didn't know quite well how to properly reply it when he himself wasn't sure in which ground his relationship with Dean was exactly.
Sure, when they reunited after a long time of no see each other there was between them -and always had been- a certain vibe of uncertainty, of longing, of belonging, of--- it was an odd kind of tension that they both still hadn't a name for because of it's complexity, (for surely none of them had dealt with something similar before, so unknown, so strong, so easily dangerous) but which still raised goosebumps on the tiny hairs of Aidan's neck every fucking time they looked for far too long right to the other eye; which make his heart beat erratically each time they were at the phone late at night hearing each other lazy intake of air (they didn't stop calling after their departure at 'The hobbit'. Far too often they did it, but not quite enough) and the words were no longer necessary, just their sleepy nonsense and the occasional 'Still with me?' mumbled lazily under warm sheets. The poor irish got the worst feeling, though -those damn butterflies whom were wooing each other within the deeps of his stomach in some strange kind of ritual- when Dean said his name in that particular way of his before surrender to sleep, this tone that wasn't quite a plea but almost sounded like one, full of yearning and affection and something more Aidan feared to put a name to but which left his lips trembling and struggling to whisper, as in a secret, terrible words in his friend's ear. Affectionate words.
It was a bitersweet madness. A guilty and oh so dirty secret of his he didn't exactly regret but instead had a bit of fear of.
This big thing going on between them wasn't entirely noticeable but definitely strong, and was still growing every day it did not matter if they were together or not.
So that made his encounters with Dean end more often than not, at sundown, in casual kisses placed onto sensitive skin and gentle brushing of hands (fingers tightly intertwined, mouths dry, aching hearts) when they decided to watch a shitty show none of them would really pay attention at seated on an old but still comfy couch in a shitty hotel somewhere within the woods. It involved soft whispers full of sweet promises the moment Dean's eyes turned black in lust when Aidan straddled his hips in an agile move without previous notice, panting and moaning and mouthing filthy things through his ear with the same enthusiasm he tended to put on everything he did, his dancing, his impressive singing, his acting on the stage (it wasn't never an act those times, though), with his trembling wands wandering the kiwi's body lenght in awe, as if he didn't know already what was hidden beneath the heavy clothes, not how it would felt Dean's skin beneath his own when the man at last claimed him, licking his neck and biting his chin in the same needy way a man dying of thirst would drink himself to death with fresh water, with his strong hands parting Aidan's cheecks confidently (far more confident that the fisrt time) but caringly, and with his breath being stolen from his lungs when Aidan would lean against the tip of his prick in impatience, taking him all the way inside with a silent gasp and no complains, seeing his trembling body trying to adjust to him inch by inch, drowning himself in pleasure and need and contentment at the feel of them joined, with Aidan's mind repeating unknowingly to him, as if in a pray, this same very words every single time.
'I can't get enough of this man, i couldn't bear to lose him, i need him, with me, always with me, i.. i love hi---!'
Their lips would brush provocatively those times but wouldn't quite touch, they wouldn't peck, nor they would knew what the other mouth tasted like, but their hips would dance in that ancient rhythm only the body knows how to emulate instinctively, deliciously -and slowly, so achingly slowly- against the other’s one, then both lower bellies would burn tightly the moment Aidan's cock rubbed itself between them just right each time Dean thrusted up, up, up into the brunete's heat, searching for that certain place inside which could make him a total mess in mere seconds..., Aidan's delighted mewls would raise in volume at the very end of it –with his shaking thighs, sweaty hips and arse feeling deliciously raw.... right there- because of the effort of bouncing sinuously above him without falling. But oh how he loved it!
When they climaxed Aidan's world would be a mix of blue, blond and white, whereas Dean's one would be a mix of tanned skin smooth to the touch, breathy laughs and caramel eyes.
Even so they had never talked about what exactly all that meant (for fear to lose it, to damage it, to fuck it), and therefore, again, Aidan wasn't sure what was between them. How could he?
They were friends, that he knew, and surely friends did those things from time to time, right?
(They ought to... they ought!, or else... what were doing, then, he and Dean?)
:
:
What should he reply to such question?
The brunete laughed nervously before risking a fast look at Dean's smiling face, Dean, who was babbling by that moment something about 'why they should ask things like those in a better place and not there' and 'why would you want to know such thing, anyway?' in a merry voice (Aidan didn't notice when Dean had begun doing something apart of staring, and 'humming' and being silent in general while still seated by his side, but he was grateful for the attention wasn't on him anymore) altough that didn’t decreased the urgent need to scratch at his neck in discomfort and flee from the room in a rush.
He laughed, and the vibration of it make him lean against Dean's side because of the force behind it, so their shoulders collided brieftly once again and is at that moment, when Dean didn't push himself away from him like the last time and with the heat of his body surpassing layers of clothes and bones and muscle to get to Aidan, that Aidan decided to risk it all because fuck it, he need to know what they were (friends, his mind supplied), what they could be, (if there was even a little chance of they becoming something more) cameras, reporters, staff, fans and the people watching them at home be damned.
"Oh" he exhaled when his voice came back to him, bringing dozen of interested stares in his direction "I don't know really. What we are, i mean. I'm at a loss."
And wasn't that the truth?
So tilting his head in Dean's direction and streching his now trembling- still smiling lips some more, until both his cheeks began to hurt and his eyes were barely able to see the blond's face or anything, Aidan knew it was now or never. His frenetic heart telling him he had to do it, he had to ask.
‘This is it. 'I need to know and i'm gonna know and....'
"Are we, baby?" he asked, his voice a tiny whisper "A thing?"
To his great astonishment Dean didn't look as surprised as he would've liked but okay, that was okay, at least the kiwi wasn't giving him a hardened stare or another kind of sign of deep disapproval and sure as hell Aidan could deal with it now (or later) behind cameras, when the time came and after various unnombrable shots were burning his throat whilst drowning him a little bit more in his self pity state simultaneously, but then something in the blond's face switched and a contented little smile was adorning his lips out of nowhere and is at that moment that Aidan had not a single clue of what could follow next.
Dean snorted (snorted!) brushing Aidan's shoulder with his own intentionally once, twice, in that childish way of his the irishman oh so loved, and there was a moment of doubt for although he did like to hear the other man laugh Aidan didn't quite got what he'd said that was so fucking funny. It was just so weird.
'What the hell, O'Gorman?" He thought in a brief lapse of hysteria "Should i be laughing, too, given that you're breaking my heart in such bittersweet way in front of all this people...?',
And when the silence afterwards streched for so long the irishman was starting to feel like a fool who had just ruined a fine friendship without meaning to, the other man leaned in fully against him and snickered, still smiling that cute smile that deepened impossibly the dimples on his face and that moved slightly the tip of his nose upwards each time he breathed and fuck, he really was a sight to behold. The irishman was definitely, positively, understandably head over heels for him.
Then Dean mumbled something right through his ear that everyone inside the room could hear, if the strenuous gasps that followed were any indication, that left Aidan feeling a bit lighter from the head and kinda dizzy in the stomach at the same time. He positively beamed in amazement hearing them, even more so when the kiwi, so daring as he could be in a room full of people he didn't really know, gave him a peck on the neck before pulling away in favor to regain his initial position; a smug expression plastered on his handsome face.
They both laughed happily at the incredulous stares the others were giving them and the excited squeals that followed.
The room positively erupted in caos.
:
:
"Oh," Dean had said, his voice firm "I think we are"
:
:
: