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By Any Other Name

Summary:

"...when he was saying "As you wish", what he meant was, "I love you." - The Princess Bride

 

 

The evolution of John and Gary's relationship, and the pet names that follow.

Notes:

Have some Constangreen fluff!

(See the end of the work for more notes.)

Work Text:

“Gary mate, do us a favor, and, ah, portal us back to my flat, wouldja?”

Gary tilted his head to the side as he chewed his lip and decided to go for it. What the hell, right? “Maybe we could - grab a beer?” he offered, unable to stop from smiling like always.

He was going to say no, raise an eyebrow, scoff, laugh at-

“Make it two pints and a whiskey chaser and I’m in,” John responded, suddenly a lot closer to Gary’s side than he had been a moment ago, cracking his neck to the side as he added, “You can call it a date, mate.” He flashed Gary a quick grin, working his jaw as his eyes scanned him over.

Gary let out a high, embarrassed giggle, looking away with a blush. He couldn't force down his smile if he tried, especially when he looked back and he could see John Constantine’s tongue work against the inside of his cheek as his eyes still stayed on him. It took effort to not scare as Gary snorted out another laugh, starting up his courier and opening a portal.

And here they were, sitting in some pub at four in the afternoon, Gary slowly working through a Guinness pint while John was on his second whiskey and had his legs up on their corner table. Gary focused on his drink instead of staring like he wanted to.

“Pretty smart deduction there earlier, squire,” John grinned over the rim of his glass, and Gary swallowed down another giggle. God, stop acting like you’re fifteen and in love because someone attractive smiled at you.

“I, um - well, I just play a of of D&D. D-Dungeons and Dragons. I - DM for my group, a lot,” Gary started awkwardly, then perking up when John tilted his head and gestured for him to continue. He talked for probably seven straight minutes before realizing just how much he’s been blabbing, so he trailed off with a “so...yeah” and awkwardly picking at the peeling sticker on the coaster. He lifted his eyes from the table when John’s legs swung down and rested on the ground, those eyes still looking at him. But he didn't look - annoyed, that Gary had started rambling about his campaign a hundred miles an hour. Instead, he looked - amused, smiling at him. Not smarmy like he was with Director Sharpe, but a real smile.

“Why’d you stop, mate? Keep it goin’, wasn’t stopping ya.”

Gary shrugged, sipping from his glass as a smile started to pull at his lips again. “I - tend to just - talk, not think.”

“Makes two of us, mate.”

Gary’s grin was stretched further, now, matching John’s. He opened his mouth to continue talking when his phone buzzed loudly with a message from Ava about needing his paperwork by tomorrow. He winced as he looked back at John, “I - sorry, but I need to head out, uh, duty calls.”

“Fare thee well, squire,” John smirked at him, standing up. Gary chewed his bottom lip for a moment before downing the rest of his beer and clearing his throat.

“So - this Friday, I’m hosting a D&D night at my place this, uh, Friday, oh, I already said that. But, uh, yeah, so - anyways, I want to ask - I mean, it’s not like you have to, it’s just an open invitation-” he was rambling again, he was rambling and he expected to be told to hurry up already and get on with it, but John kept looking at him instead of looking literally anywhere else. So Gary swallowed and finished his sentence: “...you’re, uh, invited to my group for Friday, if you want. It’s - I can - yeah,” he trailed off, blushing slightly. Ugh.

John’s tongue worked against the inside of his cheek, and he grinned. “Sounds like a riot, squire.”

“What? I - I mean, oh - oh! Great!” Gary brightened, grinning back and dribbling out his details on a bar napkin. “I - have to head back, n-” his heart nearly stopped when John leaned past him, brushing his shoulder against his to pick up his whiskey from the table.

John sent him a wink and a smirk and a “See you around, squire” before downing the drink and slamming it down on the table. They parted ways after that, and Gary couldn’t focus on his paperwork if he tried back at the office.

 

 

It wasn’t like Gary actually expected John Constantine to show up at his apartment on Friday. Which was why when he answered the door with his hair still a mess from the shower he nearly closed the door on him in complete shock.

And even though he was here, it wasn’t like he expected him to actually join in and not just sit there looking amazing in a dirty trench coat like it was nothing. But no, he - joined in the game with the rest of his friends, and he actually had to look up at John when it was his turn to roll.

“Well, tonight, squire, I’m all yours,”  John grinned at him, nothing but mischief sparking in his eyes as he flipped the die like a coin, and it rolled on the table until it landed in front of Gary.

Natural 20.

Gary crossed his legs under the table and swallowed hard.

 

Frankly, he was shocked that he was able to DM the rest of the night, that he was able to improve at all when his foot end up brushing against John’s more times than can be chalked up as accidental. He smiled and said goodbye to his friends after the session ended, turning around and realizing that, oh, he was alone in his apartment with John Constantine.

“Got a drink?” John asked, flicking his lighter twice before finally getting a flame and lighting a cigarette. Gary nodded, grabbing two beer bottles out of his fridge and passing one over. John grinned around the cigarette. “Bloody brilliant, squire.”

It was - so easy, being together and talking about the campaign and each other’s work, and there was never a moment where it felt like John was talking over him, or not really listening to his excited recap of the evening’s progress. No, he would - smile at his enthusiasm, and just let him talk, adn Gary couldn’t hide his smile if he tried.

He was halfway through discussing Ethan’s poor charisma roll when calloused fingertips lifted his chin up and a kiss was pressed to his lips. Firm, but gentler than the last one between them and Gary’s hand dropped limply to his side. Idiot, touch him, he’s right there!

He could feel John’s smile as he pulled away from his lips. “Gotta run, Gary, work and the like.”

Gary cleared his throat, nodding. “Oh - yeah, no problem. I’ll - see you around?” he offered, hope hesitant in his voice. The corners of John’s lips quirked up as smoke escaped them.

“Oh, ‘course you will, love.”

 

 

“Got a proposition for you, love,” John asked, leaning against Gary’s counter as he checked dinner in the oven. He’d started making it a habit of popping up at random times, once, twice, even three times in a week. Maybe he was coming for a warm meal, maybe a safe place to crash when he’d had one too many - maybe because he liked him? Was that possible?

Yes, Gary answered John in his mind before common sense caught up with him. Where? I’m not picky. My bed, your bed, the couch, this counter - oh, I just vacuumed the floor, the rug’s clean.

He blinked away his thoughts and cleared his throat. “Uh - sure, what is it?”

John grinned, blowing out smoke that tickled the inside of Gary’s nose. “You ever think of fighting’ a dragon, huh?”

That wide smile broke out across Gary’s face, his eyes practically sparkling. “I - really? I mean - that - that’s so cool, I - I would love to.”

John laughed, clapping a hand hard across his back. ““You’re an absolute stunner, love. We’ll head out tonight, then.”

“Wh - now?”

“No better time than the present, yeah?”

 

 

So, that had happened. Dragons, real magic, costumes that weren’t costumes, and basically, it was the best day of Gary’s life even if they could have died at least five different times within three days.

But even besides the excitement of real life magical adventures, what made it truly a special time were the quiet moments. Stakeouts in forests, sharing a flask on a dry patch of earth with the sky glittering about them. It was - incredible.

They talked, a lot. Gary tended to talk when he was nervous or excited, and he had been both during this trip, lightning as the days passed. John would - would just listen, and occasionally interject, talk about the mystical arts or his previous misadventures while brushing windswept hair out of Gary’s face and glowing embers dripped from his cigarette on their laps.

Sometimes when the flask ran dry John was a little more open, more doubting, more - human than the idealized figure in Gary’s mind. Never an open book, but just enough that Gary could peek underneath the cover.

“After this, should get out of this,” John told him after they were done collecting magical supplies, shrugging like he was brushing something off his shoulders. “While you still can.”

Before you’re trapped in my world, went unsaid but Gary knew, he knew, what he meant. He shoved his hands in his pockets for his lighter, Gary held it up for him. “Fell out a while ago, need a light?”

His hands shook slightly as he struggled to maintain a steady flame on the well-worn lighter, but when he finally had a light going, he held it a small distance from his face. He could see sparks glowing in John’s eyes as he leaned in close to light his cigarette. The smoke was bitter as plumes blew back in Gary’s face from the wind.

“We - we should head back now, love.”

They traveled back to Gary’s apartment that night, Gary tossing his bag at his couch without a care in the world when they arrived. John laughed at it, cracking his neck.

“Hell, Gary, a thing out of place? Sure that thing isn’t wonk-”

This time, Gary didn’t wait, didn’t let himself overthink anything, didn’t let himself think about anything, he just leaned all the way into John’s space and closed the gap between them with a gentle but firm kiss. His hand was clenching, unclenching around its tight grip on his oher wrist. During a two-heartbeat span, neither of them moved, and Gary felt panic rise in his throat. Oh god, he misread it, he just misread the entire situation, the entire relationship between them. This - he ruined something, once again, like he always ended up doing.

Except - except the rough lips against his were moving, deepening the kiss, warm rough hands cupping his face and bringing him closer. Gary unclenched his hands, letting them come up so he could wrap his arms around John’s neck and keep him as close as possible.

When they finally had to break apart for air, John didn’t pull his hands away. He didn’t even put distance between them as they caught their breath. His eyes seemed to glow in the darkness of Gary’s apartment, all of that heat focused on him. He could feel - magic, real magic, seeping from John’s touch into his skin, running through his veins.

John kissed his lips again, just a brief one before pulling back to look at Gary like nobody else had. Not like he was a nuisance or a means to an end, but -

“You’re bloody incredible, my darling, you know that?” John murmured, that honest crooked smile Gary’d only caught fleeting glimpses of in the middle of the night spreading wider. Gary’s heart skipped a beat, before he could grin back.

“So - are you.”

“I’m not, Gary, should know that. I’m really not.”

“Well - I think so,” Gary told him, just a little bit of sass to his tone. “And I’m a ‘bloody genius’ so I think my opinion has some weight.”

John laughed, for once sounding light instead of snarky. He kissed him again, pulling and pushing each other along, until they were pressed up against his bedroom wall, and Gary worked up enough courage to shove John’s coat off his shoulders.

“I don’t-” Gary’s voice was barely above a whisper as John’s hands were on his belt after his shirt had been tossed casually aside. “I don’t - uh, kn-know what I’m doing, I’m sorry.”

John pressed a kiss to his temple, lips moving down to his ear. “Just a secret, Gary: I’ve got no fucking clue what to do now, either.”

Gary probably shouldn’t have snorted, that wasn’t appealing, but then John also snorted and then they were laughing, and everything dissolved into laugher between the sheets of his (thankfully) clean bed.

Gary doesn't have a chance to feel self-conscious, not with warmth coursing through his veins and the word darling, darling, my darling buzzing in his ears.

 

 

 

It takes a solid eight months before John Constantine says the words “I love you” to Gary Green.

 

When he finally does, in Gary’s doorway covered in demonic vomit and hair mussed literally to hell and back, Gary laughed at him.

Which, frankly, John hadn’t expected.

“I knew, John. I love you too, obviously,” Gary added, before laughing again. “Please shower before you sit on the couch.”

“What - do you mean, you knew?”

 

 

“I can't find my second tarot deck, darling, 's out on the counter? An' thanks for picking up the tea this morning.”

“Darling, you have to leave, I’m not good enough, safe enough for you and I’m not strong enough to leave you.”

“Sharpie can wait three hours before you grace her with your presence, my darling, so you can stay in bed a bit longer. Time can wait.”

 

 

“Darling, d’ you hear me? I said, how did you know?”

Gary smiled, stretching his neck out to kiss his lips while avoiding getting any mess on his work shirt, pulling back with yet another laugh.

“Shower, then we’ll watch Princess Bride, I’ll explain it.”

Notes:

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