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bobgasm · 8 months

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good 4 u | b.f

pairing: robert “bob” floyd x f!reader word count: 15,660 [sorry lmao] warnings: angst, heartbroken bob, flirting, slow burn, friends to lovers

prompt: good 4 u | #sourguts writing challenge by @mothdruid

summary: in which bob’s been invited to his ex’s wedding and you volunteer to go as his date

author’s note: this was supposed to be a fake dating au but i scrapped that plan halfway through 😅 hope u enjoy it regardless

oneshot | masterlist

It was like Bob was walking on eggshells around everyone. He knew why they were careful about what they say, and why even Hangman seemed to be taking pity on the heartbroken fool.

They all got the same pristine invitation that he did.

The invitation for Jamie, his ex, and her fiancé’s wedding. It was like a slap in the face, and for a week Phoenix had hidden it from him. She’d intercepted his mail before he could find the crisp white invitation with gold and floral decoration. Perfect penmanship addressing the upcoming wedding, and inviting Bob to celebrate the day.

Because he’d been too kind to say that they couldn’t stay friends when they’d broken up. Because he’d tortured himself with their friendship after their breakup, and suffered in silence when she’d started dating. Plastering on a fake smile and faux enthusiasm when it started getting more serious.

And now they were engaged. And like the good friend Phoenix was, she’d hidden the news as long as she could until Jamie and Hayden had shown up to games’ night flaunting the huge rock on her third finger. Rooster had dragged Bob outside, but Bob had pushed through. He had swallowed his hurt and put on a convincing performance.

One that was deserving of an Oscar, if you asked Rooster. One that had Phoenix casting worried looks at Bob throughout the evening. One that had Fanboy wondering if Bob had ever loved Jamie as much as he’d claimed to.

The wedding invitation hadn’t been intercepted, though several tried. Even Hangman tried to play the diversion, but they’d all been too late. Bob had found the invitation and had gone about his day the best as he could. It wasn’t until the third attempt to distract him that he simply asked outright if they were trying to find the invitation. When no one replied, he nodded and continued with his tasks.

It had been a week of deliberation. A week of people trying to convince him to just throw the invitation away and be done with Jamie for good. A week of hearing his friends whisper about not going in solidarity with him.

But he’d told them they didn’t have to choose. She was their friend too, and he wasn’t going to hold it against them if they wanted to go, even if he didn’t. Though Phoenix knew. She knew he’d decide to go, whether he told everyone otherwise or not.

It was why she planned a spontaneous games night for her birthday. Bob knew what she was trying to do. She was trying to buy time. Make him realise he didn’t need to cling to the memories he had with Jamie, and that he could make new ones. And what better time than her birthday, which her friend Y/N was in town for?

Bob was punctual, like always. He brought a bottle of Phoenix’s favourite liquor and helped finish setting things up. He made polite small talk and appreciated the distraction, but he didn’t want tonight to be a downer. No, it was Phoenix’s birthday! They were supposed to be celebrating! Hell, he even treated himself to a glass of wine when she offered him one before everyone else arrived. He wanted to loosen up and actually enjoy himself for a change, and what better way to do that than alcohol?

Coyote, Fanboy and Rooster were the next to arrive. They all brought games or snacks and drinks. Fanboy was quick to play some music before Hangman arrived and took control, and Bob helped himself to another glass. The only one missing was Payback, who’d said he’d be late, but by the time he finally arrived, Bob had a good buzz on. He was enjoying the banter that came from each game, and even commented some of his own.

“Fanboy, close your eyes.”

They’re playing wavelength, a game Rooster had seen on TikTok. The aim was simple: person A had to guess the number using 5 questions. The questions varied every round, but the person answering the question had to gage their answer off the number.

Say that the number was 7, for example. 10 is the best, and 1 is the worst. If the question was along the lines of “give me a fast food chain,” then the person answering had to give their third favourite place to go. The question could be a colour, or a hiking trail, but the idea was to get person A to guess the number that everyone else knew, based off where person B had ranked their answer to person A’s question. Hence, the name of the game being wavelength, because you’d all be on the same wavelength.

They’d played a practise round so everyone kind of understood how the game should be played, with a lot of clarification needed throughout, but they were there.

Maybe.

And Fanboy was the unlucky first person to try and guess the number.

Bob held up 3 fingers. Everyone nodded in agreement, then Fanboy opened his eyes and tried to think of who to pick on first.

“Coyote, give me an alcoholic drink,” Fanboy requested.

Oh, another thing Bob learnt, if the question had been asked in the previous round, you couldn’t use it for the next two rounds. The hard part was trying to come up with new questions each time.

“Merlot,” Coyote replied, offering no clarification.

The game works best if you have a group of people who know enough about each other to kind of guess where they’d rank their answers. The fun part came from trying not to blurt out the number, as Hangman had learnt in the trial run. A bout of laughter had ensued, and Phoenix was convinced her plan had worked. She just wondered where the hell Y/N had got to.

“Interesting, okay,” Fanboy said. “Bob, give me something you plug in?”

“You’re really scraping the bottom of the barrel with your questions, huh?” Bob teased.

“I panicked and zoned out staring at the cord for the tv,” Fanboy confessed with a laugh of his own.

“Let me think for a second,” Bob told him, sipping his beer.

He couldn’t tell you when he’d moved on to beer, but he didn’t mind it. The wine had been too tart for his liking, but the beer was going down a treat. He felt warm and relaxed, but it was taking a lot of effort not to blurt out the number like Hangman did earlier.

“Hair dryer,” Bob eventually said. There were a few murmurs of agreement at his choice, and while Phoenix tsk’d under her breath, she didn’t put up much of a fight. It’s where person B, in this case Bob, would rank the answer to the question since he was called on.

Fanboy directed his next question at Phoenix. “Give me a flavour of milkshake?”

“You asking me out, Mickey?”

“Keeping my options open.” He winked.

Phoenix laughed. “Banana.”

The next question was for Rooster, who’d just returned from the bathroom. He sat down beside Bob and reached for his beer from the table in front of him.

“Roo, give me a type of candy,” Fanboy requested.

Bob didn’t hear Rooster’s answer because the apartment door flew open and he was faced with you – hair slightly messy and cheeks flushed. Arms carrying more wine and balancing a cake, and he felt floored. Like the breath had been sucked from his lungs and he’d forgotten how to breathe.

“They wrote ‘Happy Birthday Phoebe’!’” You exclaimed, kicking the door shut and placing the cake on the kitchen counter, not that there was much free space for it. Regardless, you didn’t care, you just opened the bottle of wine you still held and took a large swig. “What are we playing?”

“Two steps back, Y/N,” Phoenix said with a laugh.

She used Bob’s knee to push herself to her feet, and her grip helped bring him back to earth. He remembered how to breathe, sucking in a deep breath which Rooster mistook for a wince and cast him a concerned look.

“Your knee acting up?”

“Sharp nails,” he lied.

“Everyone, this is Y/N, she’s come to town for my birthday this weekend,” Phoenix said, taking a moment to introduce everyone by their name. “And I’m sure I can live with a cake that says ‘Phoebe.’”

“We’re playing ‘wavelength,’ have you heard of it?” Rooster asked.

“Only from TikTok,” you said.

“That’s where I learnt it,” he replied, making room beside him so you could sit between himself and Bob.

Bob, who tried to not look like a complete fool as you smiled his way and sat down. Phoenix took her spot on the ground beside Bob’s left leg, but he didn’t miss the slight twitch of her lips before she spoke, “Type of candy, Roo?”

“I said warheads,” Rooster repeated.

You leaned over to Bob and whispered in his ear as Fanboy asked the next question. “What’s the number?” You asked him. At a loss for words, and not wanting to say them or hold three fingers up, he tapped the neck of his beer bottle thrice. An action you followed with your gaze before returning to his eyes once again and smiling. “Thanks, Bob.”

“‘Course,” he mumbled.

He needed another drink, and signaled to Hangman for another beer while he was up. He snagged a few and handed them off before passing one to Bob.

“Who’s driving you home?” He asked.

“Probably sleep on Nix’s couch,” he replied, casting a glance at Phoenix. “That okay?”

“You’re making breakfast in the morning,” she replied easily, clinking her bottle with Y/N’s like some sort of victory.

“Works for me,” Bob replied, thanking Hangman and opening the bottle before taking a sip.

He wished he could focus on the rest of the game, but he was acutely aware of the warmth radiating from your leg that was pressed up against the side of his own that he couldn’t think about anything else. Even through the layers of your jeans and his own pants, he could feel the warmth of your skin. His fingers gripping his beer a little tighter so he didn’t make a fool of himself and rest his hand on your thigh, desperate to feel more.

When Fanboy guessed the number 3 correctly, Coyote called for a round of shots to celebrate. Bob didn’t drink much, but he was down for a round. He needed to feel the warmth of the liquor rather than your leg.

Hangman volunteered to go next. Wavelength was a hit, and so was the round of Tequila shots. Bob felt lightheaded, but he felt relaxed for the first time in a long time. Everyone seemed to notice, too. Keeping an eye on how much he was drinking, making sure he was eating, but still letting him finally let loose a little. It was long overdue, and since he wasn’t driving home…no one was too bothered when he got up to get everyone another round of shots when Hangman guessed the right answer for the latest round of wavelength.

No one knew what to expect from a drunk Bob. They’d hardly ever seen him drink, so to see him actually drunk? He’d lost his shy exterior; shed it like a layer of himself and finally come out of his shell. He was boisterous and chatty, and sang along to whatever song was playing. Whether the song was one from the 80’s, or a newly released one, he was singing.

Then came the dancing.

You watched with curious fascination as he led the majority of the guys in a somewhat choreographed routine. You’d heard that a few of the guys had one specific song they liked to dance to, but according to Phoenix, she and Bob usually sat out and laughed at them. As it turned out, he knew the entire routine, and was now showing them up.

You and Phoenix howled with laughter as Bob and Fanboy slut-dropped, while Rooster fell over his own feet at the unexpected behaviour from Bob. Coyote and Hangman didn’t seem fazed, and continued on like nothing happened.

But it did happen, and you were enjoying every minute of it. Even throwing a few loose ones at the group of guys as their shirts came off. The song changing to fit the whole stripper vibe that the evening had somehow come to.

Bob collapsed on the couch, in the spot between you and Phoenix. Slumping down and closing his eyes while he breathed heavily, a drunk smile on his face.

“This is the most fun I’ve had in a long time,” he confessed. “Happy Birthday, Nix.”

“Thanks, Bob,” she replied with a smile of her own.

“You didn’t want to strip for us, too?” You asked teasingly, looking over at the four men grinding against the air or flossing their shirts between their legs.

“Nah, you couldn’t afford me,” Bob replied, watching you turn your attention back to him. Amusement sparkled in your eyes, while his were hooded, heavy from the alcohol but still watching you as intently as he could.

You registered Phoenix getting up, but Bob had your undivided attention.

“We could find out just how much I’m willing to pay for a private show,” you told him, keeping your tone light. Easy, while still serious. You didn’t want to scare him away.

“Or?”

“Or not,” you said with a shrug, sipping your wine.

You relaxed back into the couch a little, the entire left side of your body pressed up against the right side of his. You swore you could hear his breath catch in his throat as you rested your hand on his thigh, maybe a little higher than you had intended, but it served its purpose.

You’d seen the shy, reserved guy Phoenix had described. He was just as cute as you’d imagined, but once the alcohol had loosened his inhibitions? You wanted to see more. So much more.

That was how you stayed until the song ended and Rooster offered you both another drink. Another round of tequila shots and you were up and singing loudly to the next song. Grabbing Bob’s hand and hauling him to his feet so he could join in with everyone, but it was like he wasn’t present. Not like he had been previously. He seemed to be stuck in his head, and was quick to sit back down once the song was over. Nursing a bottle of beer and picking aimlessly at the label.

“I think he’s hit a wall,” Fanboy commented to Phoenix, and you couldn’t help but overhear as you poured yourself another wine.

“I think you’re right,” she replied. “You guys should head out without us. I’ll stay and make sure he’s okay.”

“It’s your birthday though,” he replied. “You should be coming out with us.”

“Another time, I promise,” she assured him. “Thanks for coming.”

“Of course,” he said, swiftly kissing her cheek. “Save us some cake?”

Fanboy herded the guys out of the apartment with a loud goodbye, and Phoenix shut the door behind them. When she joined you in the kitchen, she offered you a fork and you stood together picking away at the cake you got her. There was a good chunk missing already, but it was too good not to keep eating.

“Is Bob okay?”

Phoenix sighed, “If you ask him, he’ll say ‘yes’ and pretend he’s not falling apart, but he won’t talk about it.”

“Girl problems?” She nodded and you reached for your wine. “Do you think my flirting was the catalyst for his sudden withdrawal tonight?”

Her silence spoke volumes, and you wished it didn’t. Downing the last of your glass while she grabbed the bottle of tequila and sat down beside Bob.

You watched the two of them interact. Nothing was said, but there was mutual understanding. Respect. A comforting hand on his shoulder, a watery smile while he downed the last of his beer and gratefully accepted the bottle of tequila. He’d likely regret it in the morning, but if it helped him tonight? That was all he could think of.

“Room for one more?” You asked tentatively.

“Yeah.” Bob’s voice was thick, like he was trying not to cry.

The more he drank, the higher the likelihood that he’d be unable to help it. Tequila was notorious for making you feel your feelings. You’d know, you had a tendency to drown your sorrows at the bottoms of a bottle on the odd occasion.

“You want to talk about it yet?” Phoenix tried to pry.

Bob drank straight from the bottle of tequila. You shared a look with Phoenix – it was going to be a long night. Deciding to give them some privacy in case Bob didn’t want to talk about what was going on in front of you, you headed for the bathroom. Taking the time to brush your teeth and wash your face before changing into a pair of loose cotton pyjama bottoms and an old tee.

By the time you joined Bob and Phoenix again, they were lying on the floor of the living room, staring up at the ceiling. Phoenix looked over at you and held up the bottle.

“The room was spinning so we laid down. Lie with us,” she said. You took the bottle and downed a large swig before joining them.

“Do you remember the last time we drank tequila like this?” You asked her. “You’d just broken up with Sam, and I was having problems with Evan. We drank a bottle of tequila and you broke up with him for me so we could be single together.”

Phoenix laughed at the memory. “They were assholes.”

“Is Bob’s ex an asshole?” You dared to ask.

“No,” he answered after a moment of silence. “That’s the worst part.”

“She did an asshole thing though,” Phoenix pointed out.

“No, I did. By agreeing to stay friends,” he replied. “You can’t stay friends with an ex or it means you never loved them. I don’t think I loved her, I think I loved the idea of her.”

“How long were you two together?” You asked.

“Almost five years,” he said, reaching for the bottle from your hand and sitting up to take a swig. “Five years and she moves on like it was nothing, then invites me to her fucking wedding.”

He spat the last word like it pained him to say, and it probably did.

“You totally have to go,” you told him. “Show up with a hot date and pretend like those five years meant nothing to you, too. That you’ve moved on and you’re fine, and then never speak to her again.”

“I don’t think that–,”

Bob cut Phoenix off. “You’re right,” he agreed. “Except hot women don’t tend to fall at my feet.”

“Do you want me to trip or something just to prove to you that they do?” You challenged. “You’re hot, Bob.”

Phoenix rolled her eyes but she understood what you were trying to do. “If you want to go to the wedding, you know we’ll all go to support you. No one has sent their RSVP yet because we’re waiting to see what you want to do. And I think Y/N has just proven she’ll more than happily be your date. Think you can pretend to be in love with her for one night?”

“Do I have to answer right now?” Bob asked.

“No.”

“Good, ‘cause I think I’m g’na puke,” he said, shooting to his feet and darting towards the bathroom like a bat out of hell.

Phoenix looked at you as you both heard retching from the bathroom. “Do you think this is a good idea?”

“Bob’s a big boy. He can make that decision for himself,” you answered. “Should probably check on him, though. Make sure he’s not drowning in his own vomit.”

The pair of you headed to the bathroom and found him hunched over, sobbing into the toilet. Phoenix crouched down and rubbed his back soothingly while you leaned against the doorframe.

“She’s not worth your tears, Bob,” Phoenix said softly.

“How does she get to be fine while I’m falling apart?”

Your heart broke as he sobbed again, immediately followed by more retching as he hugged the bowl of the toilet.

“Sometimes we fall in love with people who don’t love us as much as we love them,” you told him after the toilet stopped flushing. “They love us 20% and we shoulder the other 80% because we don’t think that someone can love us more than that. We accept what we think we deserve, then they move on and we’re still hung up on what might’ve been. You deserve more than 20%, Bob.”

Phoenix gave you one of her all-knowing smiles, paired with sad eyes as she knew exactly who you were referencing. You’d been in Bob’s place before, a couple times actually. Moving on to the next person while still harbouring feelings for your ex and pretending that the new person was them. Loving them more than they loved you.

It sucked. Phoenix had picked up the pieces of your broken heart more times than you’d have liked. Now you’d been single the longest you’d ever been, but now you felt like you didn’t need anyone. Sure, company was great for a night or two, but your feelings were always more than the other person’s. You were tired of giving someone your all and not receiving even half of the love you gave them in return.

“It gets better,” you continued, watching him wipe his mouth with a bit of paper before he turned to look at you. “It’s not always this hard. It only seems like the end of the world because she’s engaged and having the life you’d always talked about, right? You’d been talking about getting engaged and having a big wedding, and now she’s experiencing all of that with someone else.”

“I–yeah,” he confessed. “Do you really want to go to this wedding as my date?”

“I wouldn’t have offered to if I didn’t want to go,” you told him. “And if Phoenix and the rest of the guys come along, between us all we can make it fun.”

“Yeah,” Phoenix agreed. “We can be your buffers if you don’t want to talk to her, or if you do then we’ll be there to support you. And carry you home if you get drunk like you are tonight.”

“Okay,” he said, not too sure but then he repeated himself, “okay. I can’t keep torturing myself by seeing her anymore, so it’ll be the last time.”

“Exactly,” both you and Phoenix replied.

Bob woke up to the light streaming through the small gap where the curtains didn’t quite meet. He tried to shield his eyes and go back to sleep, but his mouth was dry and his stomach protested. He downed the water bottle on the coffee table as well as a few aspirin for the headache splitting his skull. Letting it work for a few minutes before he got up and scoured the kitchen to make breakfast.

He knew he drank too much. He knew he ended up crying on the bathroom floor. He knew he’d turned Phoenix’s birthday into a pity party and he felt terrible. Not only that, but he knew he’d likely scared you off. You, Y/N, who’d called him hot and flirted with him early on in the night. You, who’d given him some great advice, but also offered to be his date to his ex’s wedding.

Why would you do that?

Surely you could do better than the heartbroken man he’d become lately.

With a sigh he watched the coffee machine drip coffee into a mug. When it was done, he took a sip before whipping up some pancakes. Personally, Bob thought they were overrated, but he knew Phoenix loved them. It was the least he could do after last night.

He fried some bacon and scrambled some eggs to go along with the pancakes, since that’s what he felt like eating. When he turned around to grab his coffee, you were seated at the breakfast bar already drinking it.

“How’re you feeling this morning?” You asked kindly.

“Would rather not think about it,” he replied, earning a soft laugh from you in response. “Phoenix up yet?”

“She’s awake but not up,” you told him. “I smelt coffee. Sorry for knicking yours.”

“It’s fine,” he assured you, already starting to make another, plus one for Phoenix. “Thanks for last night.”

“We’ve all been there, Bob, don’t sweat it.” You smiled sweetly and he nodded a few times, trying to get his breathing under control. “Smells good out here. I like the view, too.”

Bob suddenly felt underdressed. He’d removed his shirt to sleep and changed into a pair of sweatpants he’d left here a few months ago. He was glad he still had his briefs underneath, otherwise he would’ve felt more exposed than he already did.

“Uhh, you don’t have to flirt with me out of pity, you know that, right?”

“It’s not out of pity, Bob,” you told him. “I said it last night and I’ll say it again, you’re hot. And I’ll keep saying it until you believe me.”

Bob hated that when he blushed it went down his neck and covered the top of his chest. He hated that you could see just how flushed your comments made him. Turning back to the coffee machine, and essentially hiding from you, he dropped some bread in the toaster before making the next coffee.

“If it makes you that uncomfortable, I’ll stop,” you offered kindly.

“No, I just, I don’t get called ‘hot.’ Usually only ‘cute’ or ‘adorable.’”

“You can be ‘hot’ and ‘cute’ at the same time,” you argued lightly, a smile to your tone. “Like right now. You’re all cute and shy about my flirting, but you can cook, so you’re hot.”

“I think I’m following.”

“Good boy,” you praised and Bob felt like he’d been kicked in the chest with the way his breath got caught in his throat. His heart raced and he made a face, like he didn’t hate that, and you grinned as you caught the shock before he tried to keep his expression blank. “When’s the wedding?”

Finally, a safe topic.

Bob cleared his throat before looking at you. “Second weekend in June,” he said. “Are you sure you want to go? With me?”

“I’m sure,” you confirmed. “Do you still want me to go with you?”

“I do,” he said. He held your gaze for a moment before it flickered over your shoulder. “Coffee’s ready, Phoenix!”

“Thank god!” Her reply came a moment later.

You smiled at Bob as he plated the food and set out some more plates and cutlery. Grabbing the syrup for the pancakes and the salt and pepper shakers for the eggs. You started serving yourself while Phoenix slowly joined you, accepting the mug of coffee from Bob as she sat down beside you.

“How’re you feeling this morning, Bob?”

“Better,” he replied. “Sorry about last night.”

“We all fall apart sometimes,” Phoenix responded. “I’m just glad you’re okay.”

Once breakfast was finished you helped Bob clean up while Phoenix took a shower. You washed while he dried.

“Do you think I could get your number? You know, so we can plan for the wedding?”

“Ask me again without the part about the wedding,” you replied.

“Uhh, can I have your number?”

“Of course,” you said with a smile in his direction. He grabbed his phone from the couch and you rattled off the digits for him. You were glad to see he still hadn’t put a shirt on, but while he was by the couch he quickly changed that.

“I sent you a text so you have my number, too,” he told you, unaware of the small pout on your lips as his chest was no longer visible. But still, you knew what he looked like without a shirt and you were happy about that. “What are your plans for the day?”

“Should probably go see my mom while I’m here, but then I’m driving home this afternoon. You want to meet me for coffee before I go?”

“Yeah, okay,” he agreed, and you saw the blush creep back up on his cheeks.

“Great, around two? You pick the place. I don’t know many good cafés around here.”

“Okay, I’ll text you,” he said. You could hear the smile in his voice. “Will you tell Phoenix I said thanks again for last night? I’m gonna head out.”

“Yeah, of course. See you later, Bob.”

“See you later.”

By the time Bob was set to meet with you at a small café just after two, he was nervous. He’d been nervous when he’d asked for your number, but he was more nervous now that he had it. He was nervous he was somehow going to make you hate him. Acutely aware that you’d told him to ask for his number without mentioning the wedding, so wondering what the fuck you’d even talk about in the meantime.

He blew out a breath and pushed open the door to the café. It was a quaint place with artwork on the walls done by a few local artists. If you saw something you liked, you could buy it. Bob had two small pieces in his collection already, and the staff knew him well.

He came in a few times a week and ordered a pot of green tea while he read a book. Today, however, he didn’t have a book with him and definitely seemed antsy.

“Your usual, Bob?” The barista, Marcy, asked him with a friendly smile.

“Uh, yeah, and a couple of menus, please,” he replied, thanking her for the menus before taking a seat at his favourite spot by the window. It gave him a good natural light to read, but also allowed him to people-watch.

You breezed through the door a second later, smiling as your eyes found Bob and he rose to give you a small hug.

“Hey, you look like you got a bit more sleep,” you observed, taking a seat opposite him.

“I did, yeah,” he said with a chuckle. “How was your mom?”

“She’s good, thank you. Told me I have to come back and visit more often, and now that I only live an hour away I guess I will be back more often.”

“That’s good to know,” he mused.

“What, that I’ll be back?” You teased lightly.

“Well, yeah,” he said with a cough and an awkward rub of the back of his neck. “I guess we have to plan our wedding outfits, right?

“You were doing so well until you mentioned the wedding,” you told him.

“You make me nervous,” he confessed. “I don’t know what else to talk to you about.”

“Okay, that’s an easy fix. Ask me what my favourite colour is, or what made me move away from/back to San Diego,” you supplied, attention being pulled towards the barista who placed a pot of tea on the table in front of Bob.

“Can I get you anything to drink?” She asked you.

“Iced Americano, thank you,” you replied, smiling at her before watching Bob pour himself a cup of tea.

“Why did you move from San Diego?” Bob asked you.

“I grew up here. Felt like I needed to get out and explore for a bit. Applied for a job up in Seattle and was living there for about five years, but it felt like something was missing, you know? So I packed up and moved back to San Diego.”

“Are you glad to be back?”

“Yeah, I am,” you admitted. “I think I missed the community here. It’s just me and my mom now, but it’s so familiar. I can still go to some little mom and pop stores and the owners remember me from when I was a little kid.”

“I get that,” he said. “It’s the same when I go back to Montana. Just feels like you never left, right?”

“Yeah.” You smiled. “I didn’t know you were from Montana. You can hardly hair the drawl.”

“Oh, it’s still there,” he admitted with a laugh. “It’s usually more noticeable when I’m stressed, so Phoenix gives me plenty of shit for it when we land after an exercise or a mission.”

“I’ll bet she does.” You laughed along with him. “What made you join the Navy?”

“I knew I had to get out of Montana. They had a booth at a careers expo when I was in high school. Told me all the great things I could do. Signed up the day I turned eighteen and haven’t looked back,” he said, sipping his tea. “I still go home to Montana when I can. It doesn’t feel like I belong, but it’s nostalgic. It’s home.”

Bob recommended the BLT when your stomach growled, saying it was easily the best sandwich he’d ever had at a café. Apparently they toast the bread a little bit, plus the aioli they add is housemade. It made your mouth salivate just thinking about it.

You both ordered one when your coffee came out, and conversation continued to flow easily. Of course, you continued to flirt a little, but sometimes it wasn’t as obvious. Just enough to see the colour appear on Bob’s cheeks before you moved on.

Bob was sweet, which you already knew. Once he was more comfortable with you, you went back to your teasing and flirting. Sometimes you thought he might’ve even been flirting back, but it was so subtle you weren’t sure.

You talked about your favourite colour, your hobbies, and even what you did for work. It was so easy talking to Bob, it felt like you’d been friends for a long time, rather than having only met the day before.

When it was time to leave, because you had a few errands to run, Bob walked you out to your car. There was a battle for the bill, but since you’d asked him to meet with you, he reluctantly let you pay. Stating that meant he got the next one. Your heart fluttered a little at the promise of seeing him again. That you hadn’t scared him off. And graciously gave him a warm hug and a kiss on the cheek before you left.

By the time you reached the grocery store almost 40 minutes later, you smiled when you checked your phone to find a text from Bob.

I had fun this afternoon. You made me feel normal. Thank you

Any time, Bob, I mean that. I had fun this afternoon too x

Your thumb hovered over the ‘send’ icon, debating whether the kiss was too much. Deciding to send it anyway before getting on with your shopping, a pep to your step and feeling good.

Your week was busy. Your new job was still kicking your ass as you tried to learn everything you needed to know, but you felt fulfilled. Especially since Bob and Phoenix were messaging you several times a day, helping you keep sane.

They were busy training for something they couldn’t exactly talk about, but you knew it was a mission, and most of their team had been called forward. Even though you weren’t able to see them that often, you did spend most of your weekends hanging out at The Hard Deck. Phoenix and Bob had both mentioned that’s where they liked to hang out, and so you’d go there hoping that they’d have a free moment to stop by for a drink.

Sometimes they’d already be there when you arrived, while other times you’d enjoy a drink and text them until they showed up.

You’d even become closer with everyone else, but you had a soft spot for Bob. Most nights you’d talk until you were falling asleep, but not wanting to be the first to say goodnight. Bob would walk you to your car just for an extra few moments alone, you’d kiss his cheek and he’d tell you to text him when you got home so he knew you were safe.

The two times you’d hung out without everyone else had been wonderful. You’d gone to a farmers market one morning, and gone bowling the other time. Keeping it casual and light was easier said than done. You enjoyed spending time with him to the point you almost wished you hadn’t suggested being his date to his ex’s wedding. You wanted to suggest blowing the wedding off, but that felt cruel. He was ready to cut that chapter from his life and he deserved that closure. And you’d be there to see it through.

You’d asked Phoenix what she planned on wearing, but she’d been vague. Telling you to “ask Bob to coordinate your outfits,” each time. And yeah, you knew you should ask him about that, but you enjoyed the fact that he didn’t mention the wedding around you anymore. It would be like taking two steps backwards, but you knew it had to be done. After all, that was why you spent a lot of time together. You couldn’t pretend to be fake dating if you didn’t know the first thing about each other.

So you bit the bullet and fired off a text to Bob.

Hey, I’ve been thinking about what to wear for the wedding. What colour is your suit? I think it’ll be cute if we match x

His reply came moments later.

Haven’t got a suit yet, probably should organise that soon. I could use your opinion if you’re free tomorrow?

Of course, we can meet at the café for breakfast and then go from there. 9am suit you? x

Can’t wait x

You smiled at the kiss he’d added to the end of his text. Then came his next message.

Are you coming to the Hard Deck tonight? x

Got a work dinner that I can’t get out of. I’ll text you when it’s over to see if you’re still there. I might be due for some decent company x

I’ll still be here x

His flirting was more obvious through text, and though you couldn’t see his face, you knew it would be flushed. You also knew just how far down that blush actually went, and spent more time thinking about it than you should’ve while still at work.

You watched the clock throughout the entire dinner. You didn’t want to seem like you had better places to be, even if it was true, but you were acutely aware of the time dragging on. Sure, you made small talk and laughed with everyone, but it wasn’t where you wanted to be. You wanted to be playing pool and drinking with your friends, and Bob.

Bob, who you definitely felt was more than a friend. Bob, who you weren’t entirely sure felt the same way as you did. Bob, who was still shy and nervous around you, but had grown more confident with your flirting. Bob, who flirted back so subtly you were convinced you’d imagined it.

Bob, the cute and awkward guy who stammered over his words sometimes. Bob, who flushed a deep scarlet whenever you touched his arm or kissed his cheek, or even openly flirted with him in front of his friends. Bob, who consumed your waking thoughts.

But you were just friends, right? You were going to be his date to the wedding – even if it was his ex’s wedding, – and you were going to have a good time, damn it. You wanted him to see you, not compare you to his ex. Not use you to get over her.

Bob, who was sweet and funny and cared more for other people than he did himself.

You smiled and gave a few hugs to coworkers who’d been friendly to you and farewelled everyone with a wave. Making a beeline to your car while you typed a quick text to Bob.

On my way, handsome x

See you soon, sweetheart x

Sweetheart. That was new. Obviously you didn’t hate it, but you were excited to tease him about it and see that gorgeous scarlet taint his cheeks and disappear beneath his shirt.

At the Hard Deck, Bob’s excitement was obvious to everyone except him. From the flush of his cheeks to his eyes darting towards the door every ten seconds. They knew who he was waiting for.

“Bob’s got a crush,” Fanboy teased, taking up residence on the stool beside Bob’s.

“So do you, Mickey,” Bob pointed out, picking at the skin of his thumbnail. “You think we don’t see you and Phoenix but we do.”

“At least Tasha knows I have a crush on her,” Fanboy replied, winking at Phoenix just as she took her shot at the ball on the table. And missed. “Better luck next time, Tasha!”

“Shut up, Mick,” she replied, though her tone was light. Flirty. A smile on her face betrayed any hint of lingering animosity behind her words. “Y/N’s on her way, huh, lover boy?”

“Maybe,” Bob said vaguely, though his eyes darting to the door had both Fanboy and Phoenix making kissing noises. “Okay, fine, she told me she’s on her way.”

Mickey wrapped his arm around Bob’s shoulders while Phoenix smiled at the exchange. “We know. You can’t keep your eyes off the door long enough to watch Coyote and Payback kick mine and Hangman’s asses.”

“I’d put money on the reason we’re losing isn’t because of their skill, but your inability to stop eyefucking Fanboy,” Hangman pointed out.

Fanboy laughed while Phoenix rolled her eyes. “Don’t be a sore loser because you’re the only one without a girl tonight.”

Payback and Coyote’s attention had been pulled away from the game by two gorgeous brunette’s. Bob laughed along with Fanboy at Phoenix’s jab, watching her lightly pat Hangman’s shoulder before standing beside Mickey.

“Another drink?” She asked, looking from Mickey to Bob.

Both men nodded and she set off to the bar.

“How do you keep it so light and flirty all the time?” Bob asked Fanboy.

He was probably the only guy who wouldn’t laugh at him for this kind of question, aside from Phoenix. Phoenix was both of your friends, and she’d made it clear she wasn’t going to interfere in anything. You’d just have to talk to each other like adults.

“The truth?” He replied. Bob nodded. “It’s not. She makes me nervous and I say things that make me look like an idiot, but she still smiles at me and flirts to her heart’s content, so I know I can’t have messed up too badly. A confident woman isn’t a bad thing, you just have to keep trying.”

“Thanks, Mick,” Bob said with a grateful smile.

“I mean, we’ve all seen Hangman strike out more times than we can count,” Fanboy continued, dragging Hangman into the firing line. He looked pissed, but Fanboy pressed on. “The key is to adapt. What works with some women, doesn’t work with others. Yeah, rejection sucks, but he doesn’t let it get him down. Besides, she told you that she’s on her way, not Phoenix. She’s only coming to see you, Bob.”

“He’s right,” Hangman pointed out. “Whatever you’re doing is working for her.”

Bob’s eyes darted back to the front door to see you walking towards the bar, smiling at Phoenix. He couldn’t help the smile that formed on his face as he watched you two embrace.

“You got it bad, Bob,” Hangman said, walking away with a laugh.

Yeah, Bob thought, don’t I know it.

You smiled at Bob as you and Phoenix joined the guys, offering the beer to Bob as you sipped your drink. He smiled in thanks, getting up to offer you his stool which you gratefully accepted.

“Why can’t you be like that?” Phoenix asked Fanboy who shrugged.

“Perfectly good seat in my lap,” he replied with a grin.

“How was dinner?” Bob asked you, paying no mind to the two beside you who continued to flirt while they bickered.

“It was good. Glad I’m here now, though,” you told him truthfully, watching the colour darken on his cheeks as he sipped his beer. “Teach me how to play?”

“What’s that?”

“Pool. Teach me how to play?”

You knew how to play, you just wanted to be close to him. Lucky for you, Bob took the bait. Taking your hand and leading you to the pool table, giving you a basic run-down of the game. He racked the balls and set them before offering you a cue and showing you how to hold it. His body pressed against yours as he positioned your hands. Lips brushing your ear as he instructed you to use your back hand to pop the cue out and hit the solid white ball, sending it flying into the triangle of coloured ones down the other end.

“You’re a natural,” he praised, smiling as he took the cue from you and lined up his own shot.

“Maybe you’re just a good teacher,” you countered, leaning against the table and squeezing your chest together just a little. Enough that you saw his gaze flit downwards to your cleavage before he hit his lip and took his shot. You watched the ball he was aiming for miss the pocket.

“That’s cheating,” he pointed out, handing you the cue while you smiled sweetly at him.

“If you’ve got it, flaunt it,” you replied. “Didn’t seem like you had any issue looking.”

“You made it hard not to,” he said, stepping closer to you. “You’re gorgeous, Y/N.”

“Thank you, sweetheart.” He groaned as you laughed and lined up your shot, looking over your shoulder at him. “You going to help me?”

“Call me ‘handsome’ again and I’ll give you anything you want, sweetheart.”

“You gotta be careful giving women that much power, handsome,” you said, taking the shot as you sent him a wink, hearing the ball sink into one of the pockets. You followed the cue ball around the table before lining up your next shot, peering up at him through your lashes. “A pretty girl might just take advantage of you.”

The back and forth was easy and you chalked that down to the couple of beer’s Bob had before you arrived. You liked when his words seemed to flow without any hesitation or overthinking, but you also liked the nervous babbling. The tripping over his words. Everything that made him him. You weren’t trying to change him, you were trying to help him love himself.

Though that might’ve been easier said than done.

The smile dropped from his face and he lost all expression. He was blank and you couldn’t read him. But you turned around and followed his line of sight, watching a young couple enter the bar. One look at Phoenix told you everything you needed to know – his ex was here with her fiancé.

You walked over to Bob and took his hand. He slowly turned his head to look at you.

“Get me out of here,” he pleaded, voice weak and your heart broke for him. You dragged him out the back entrance into the cool evening air, the sound inside dying out and replaced with the repetitive yet calming sounds of waves crashing against the shore.

You dragged him down to the beach, further from the bar, and sat down in the sand. He continued to hold your hand but said nothing. Deciding not to talk until he was ready to, you enjoyed the warmth of his hand and the calming presence of the ocean.

“I’m sorry, I know this isn’t how you want to be spending your Friday night,” Bob apologised.

“I came here to see you. I don’t care if we’re playing pool or sitting out here in silence,” you told him truthfully, watching a smile tug at the corners of his mouth. “Getting over heartbreak isn’t a simple thing. If it was, we wouldn’t be able to learn and grow.”

“I just…I don’t want you thinking that I’m using you as a rebound or something,” he confessed. “You deserve better than that.”

“Right now,we’re friends who flirt and enjoy hanging out. It doesn’t have to be anything more than that,” you said. “It’s not always going to feel like this, Bob, I promise you. Sometimes all it takes is time, but other times? Other times, all you need is a friend who’s been there and gets it. Phoenix tries, but she hasn’t experienced this kind of heartbreak before. I’m like you, I love hard. Hard enough to make up for the other person’s piss poor efforts.”

“Thank you,” he said. “I know it’s not enough, but thank you.”

“It’s enough, Bob.”

Bob met you at the café early in the morning like you’d planned. After the evening took a turn last night, you’d driven him home before heading back to your place.

Your words had been true. You loved spending time with him, whether you were playing pool or sitting outside. It was his company that mattered the most, not the conversation or activity.

You also revealed more about yourself to him than you’d intended. You hoped he’d picked up on the double meaning of your words – that you loved the other person more than they could love you. Because it was happening all over again. You were falling for someone who was emotionally unavailable.

Bob.

Breakfast was a short affair, but still sweet. The café had became a regular place you two liked to meet at and the staff were lovely. They’d have your drinks ready, even if there was a store full of people because you were both creatures of habit. Bob liked green tea, you like iced black coffee.

With breakfast out of the way, you linked your arm with Bob’s as you walked down the street. Asking him what kind of vibe he was feeling for his suit, only to be met with a blank look.

“It’s summer, Bob, you’ve got to have a colourful suit,” you chastised. “Black is boring. It’s overdone. I think you’d suit a light blue, like a baby blue, but we’ll shop around a bit.”

That’s how he ended up trying on various suits throughout the day. You’d see his attention start to drift, so you’d pack up and drag him into a store while you tried on dresses. He’d sit in the change area waiting patiently, then he’d take his time watching you twirl and pose.

He’d comment on aspects of the dresses he liked, like the neckline or the frills. It wasn’t until one of the workers tried suggesting a dress that he balked at the suggestion and went to find a better one.

He was attentive and complimentative, more so than any boyfriend you’d ever dragged out shopping with you. You wanted to think it was because there was something else building between you, but your heart told you another story. That he only cared because you were his date to his ex’s wedding.

But when he came back with a pale blue number you knew he had a winner before you even tried it on.

“This is the one,” you told him through the curtain. You admired yourself in the mirror and smiled.

“Show me?”

You threw back the curtain and gave him a shy twirl. The dress was soft and flowed around your legs as you twirled on your tiptoes. The material was snug over your chest and could either be worn with the straps or without. You’d opted to tuck them into your bra for the time being.

“You look gorgeous,” he said, voice having dropped an octave as he truly admired you. “You always look gorgeous. I mean, wow.”

You chuckled softly and reached for his arm. “I know. Thank you, Bob.”

You left him to pick his jaw up off the ground and quickly changed back, carrying the dress over your arm. Opening the curtain and placing the dresses you weren’t going to buy on the rack before taking Bob’s hand in yours.

“Will that be cash or card?”

“Card.” Bob handed his card over before you had a second to dig for your own to pay. “It’s on me. Please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” you replied teasingly, smiling at the cashier as she rang you up and processed Bob’s card. You accepted the bag when it was ready and walked out of the store together after thanking the cashier.

“Now all that’s left is my suit,” Bob mused.

“Should be easy enough. Then we can have a late lunch.”

You didn’t want the day to be over yet. Call it selfish or whatever, but spending time with Bob was the highlight of your week. The more time you spent with him, the more you saw glimpses of the real Bob hidden away from the rest of the world. He could take charge, like he did when he found you the dress. His shell was slowly cracking open and the more you saw, the more you fell for his sweet nature.

Bob smiled at the promise of lunch and you led him back into the store he’d tried on no less than 20 suits earlier in the day. The sales assistant smiled when he saw you both back again, surprised you’d found a dress already.

“We need a suit in this colour, or as close to it as you can,” you told him, showing him the colour of your dress.

He flew around the store picking up suits in various shades of blue, none of which were close to being right. Still, Bob tried on every single one of them to get your opinion.

“You do alterations, right?” You asked the sales assistant. He nodded. “Good. I’ll be back.”

You headed off on a mission. You’d seen a blue suit earlier, but it had been the wrong size so you’d all skipped past it. When you found it, you knew it was going to be two sizes too big, but if the alterations were done right, it would be perfect.

“That’s going to fall off me,” Bob commented.

“You’re not that skinny,” you replied. “I’ve seen your abs. The colour is right, Bob, please?”

“Only because you asked nicely,” he mumbled, throwing your words back at you which only made you laugh.

“Last night you said you’d do anything I’d ask, so get to it, handsome.”

He paused, trying to hide his smile as he accepted the suit, then stuck his tongue out at you. “Cheater.”

“All’s fair in love and wedding attire, or however the saying goes.”

You heard him laughing even with the door to the changing room closed. When he emerged, you signaled for the sales assistant.

“It definitely needs to be taken in, but the colour is definitely the right shade of blue. You have a good eye,” he told you, making you smile as you looked over Bob. “I’ll just grab some pins and then we’ll size you for the alterations.”

“Thank you,” Bob said politely.

“That colour looks so good on you,” you complimented, smoothing your hand down his arm before walking around him in a circle.

“Yeah?”

You smiled at his nervousness bubbling back to the surface. “Yeah. We’re going to look so good together.”

The apples of his cheeks began to pink up at your words. “You think so?”

“I know so.”

The sales assistant made quick work of pinning the suit where it needed to be tailored. Taking in the legs and the hem of the pants. Taking in the sides of the jacket and a little bit of the length, as well as attempting to make the shoulders look smoother. He made Bob turn a few times so he could adjust a few pins as necessary. Happy with his work, he told Bob to be careful while changing out of the pants, since he’d already taken the jacket off.

“Do you have a white dress shirt at home?” You asked Bob through the closed door.

“Yeah, a couple,” he replied.

“Tie?”

“I’m not wearing a tie,” he said firmly. “Ties are for the groom and groomsmen. Since I’m neither, I’m going as casual Bob. Casual Bob has a hot date and will have a few drinks then carve up the dance floor.”

“Remind me to keep you away from the dance floor,” you teased.

“You didn’t have anything wrong with my dancing at Phoenix’s the other weekend,” he pointed out.

“That was a safe space,” you replied. “You were surrounded by people who care about you. Do you really think dancing like a stripper at your ex’s wedding is going to be a good look?”

“You just want me all to yourself,” he deduced, opening the door to find you flustered by his shirtless self.

“I, uhh, what was the question?”

Seeing the roles reversed, that Bob was the confident one to your suddenly nervous self, fuelled him on. He took a step towards you, you took one towards him. Hand reaching out to touch him.

“Hot, fuck.”

You pulled your hand back the second your fingers brushed over his abdomen like you’d been burnt. You’d expected him to laugh, or blush uncontrollably, but he surprised you by cupping your face with one hand while his other settled on your waist.

“Go on a date with me.” His voice was soft and low. Thumb brushing over your cheek, feeling the warmth. “A real date.”

“Okay,” you said softly.

“Dinner tonight? No wedding talk. No talk about our exes. Just us talking like we do. Having fun like we do,” he said.

“What time?”

“Five, I have something else planned besides dinner,” he revealed, smiling as he stroked your cheek one last time.

“Do I get a hint?”

“Bring a jacket,” he told you, and you missed his touch instantly as he took a step back. “And don’t wear heels.”

You dressed casually for your date, unsure what to expect. You paired your jeans with a comfy tee, as well as a warm jacket that you had draped over your arm for the time being. It was still too warm to wear the jacket, so whatever Bob had planned had piqued your interest tenfold.

He picked you up at five sharp, dressed in jeans that had the cuffs rolled, a pair of boots and a white tee with a bomber jacket over top. His usual Navy issued glasses sat perched atop his nose and he gave you a warm smile.

“Well, don’t you look handsome,” you greeted, smiling widely at the man standing in your doorway.

“You’re not supposed to compliment me first,” he chastised playfully, though his flushed cheeks betrayed the confidence shining brightly in his eyes. “You look beautiful, Y/N.”

“Thank you, Bob,” you replied, feeling warmth in your own cheeks.

The two of you set off, Bob’s hand firmly in yours as he led you out to his car. No matter how much you asked, he wasn’t going to tell you what the first stop was.

“It’s a surprise,” he’d said with an all knowing smile. “Don’t give me lip about hating surprises either. I guarantee this is one you’ll like.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I know you,” he’d replied simply, like he was stating a fact.

You thought back to the past conversations you’d had, and what you might’ve revealed about yourself. There was a lot, and there was a good chance he did know you well enough to be able to state that you’d grant an exception to this surprise.

When Bob parked at the marina you cast him a bewildered look. He wasted no time in getting out and rounding the car to open the door for you.

“Ever the gentleman, Bobert,” you teased but there was no malice. There was never any malice. Just adoration for the man whose heart was slowly healing.

“Bobert, huh?”

“You told me you hated Robbie and Bobby,” you pointed out. “Bobert is fun, fresh, and a combination of your name and your nickname. Like it?”

“Don’t hate it,” he replied with a laugh. “C’mon, we’re running late as it is.”

“Are we fishing?” You asked, his hand slipping into yours like it belonged there, and maybe it did.

He held onto your coat as you walked along the boardwalk towards the docks, not giving anything away. There were lots of people milling around, heading towards other boats. Not you two. You weaved your way through the crowds until you arrived at a large tour boat already loaded with tourists.

“So, not fishing?” You asked, taking in the sign above the walkway up to the boat.

The sign read “San Diego Sunset Tours.”

“Not fishing,” Bob confirmed, taking in your excited expression. The way your eyes lit up when you looked at him with the biggest grin on your face that he’d ever seen. “Told you you’d like this surprise.”

“Okay, okay, you’re right,” you replied.

In the many conversations you’d had, you’d told him how even though you’d lived in San Diego almost your entire life, you hadn’t actually been on a boat before. You liked to come down and watch them all go out or come back in, waving to the passengers on board. But you’d never actually experienced it before.

Bob wanted to change that.

He’d planned it long before he’d found the nerve to actually ask you to join him for a date tonight. It took a while to secure a spot, even if he did know one of the owners as a former Naval Captain. They couldn’t play favourites, so he’d waited and waited. Grown more confident and playful around you, and you’d said ‘yes’ when he finally asked you out. He just hadn’t expected you to become so flustered about seeing him without his shirt on.

He gave his name to the check in clerk, who introduced himself as the first mate. Telling you that you were the last to arrive, so to grab a drink and take a seat while they worked on setting sail.

Bob enjoyed your look of utter bewilderment. The childlike awe and unbridled joy radiating from you in tidal waves. It was contagious, and he was happy he’d invoked this kind of reaction from you. That something he did would be a memory you’d always look back on and smile, and it made his chest grow tighter and his heart race a little quicker.

“When did you have time to plan this?” You asked. Bob was in half a mind to lie so as to not come on too strong, but you were here. Through his shyness, through his moments of boldness. You were still here. That had to mean something.

“Been thinking about it since you told me the story of you coming down here every weekend when you were a kid,” he confessed, watching you place a hand over your heart as you gave him a watery smile. “I wanted to make sure you experience it at least once.”

“Thank you,” you said, though words couldn’t portray just how grateful you were. Bob seemed to understand, pulling you against his chest for a hug. Your arms wrapped around his waist, holding him tightly as you enjoyed his warm embrace.

You chose to sit outside to watch the sunset. It wasn’t that cool yet, but you put your jacket on regardless. Not wanting to bother Bob with holding it, even though he didn’t mind, and kept an arm around your shoulders.

It was easy being with Bob. You didn’t feel compelled to fill the silence with mindless babble, because his company set you at ease. He was like a breath of fresh air, comforting and refreshing.

He was everything you never knew you were missing, and when he smiled at you, you knew there was no going back. You’d fallen, and you just hoped he was there to catch you.

Your date with Bob weighed heavily on your mind in the days leading up to the wedding. No one had ever done something so special for you for a first date before, so how could you not think about it?

The tour was amazing. You’d filled your camera roll with a bunch of images of the sunset, of the two of you smiling. A couple had even asked if you’d like them to take a photo of you, and you’d both gratefully accepted.

There were a bunch of you both wrapped in each other’s arms and smiling at the camera, but there were also a few where one or both of you were smiling at each other.

Then there was your favourite photo of all. The sunset was illuminating the sky behind you in a mix of gorgeous reds, oranges and purples. Bob had a hand resting on your lower back, the other cupping your face. Your hands gripped the collar of his jacket and you two had forgotten that pictures were being taken. The look shared between you spoke volumes. Pure adoration for each other shining brightly.

You’d made it your phone lock screen.

Of course, you’d sent a few of the others to Phoenix once Bob had dropped you home after dinner. You’d needed to gush about how much fun you’d had, and how Bob had surprised you with the best first date ever.

It wasn’t until you all met up at the Hard Deck later in the week that she saw what your lock screen image was. Apparently Bob’s was the same, and he’d been dealing with their merciless teasing all week. It brought a new wave of teasing around because apparently Bob hadn’t blushed over his choice of lock screen until it was revealed that yours matched.

You thought that you couldn’t fall any further for him, but it turned out you were wrong.

The two of you slipped outside as the night wore on and more drinks were consumed. Hangman and Rooster were killing it at karaoke, and their voices were drowned out by the lull of the ocean.

You were nestled into Bob’s side, his jacket draped around your back, your head resting in his shoulder. You liked him. It was obvious he liked you too, but you needed to have a conversation. Talk about things like adults, because while the feelings were obviously there, his words stuck in your mind.

“I don’t want you to think I’m using you.”

He’d said it a couple weeks ago. A lot has changed since then. You woke up to good morning texts from him, or would grab dinner or hang out watching a movie in the evenings after work. Your free time had been consumed by him, and while you loved it, you also needed clarification. You needed to know where his mind was at, because it’d been a while since you’d mentioned his ex. He never brought her up, so it was hard to know without being able to read his mind.

“You warm enough, sweetheart?” Bob asked you softly, pressing a soft kiss the top of your head.

You hummed. “Yeah, thank you. Can I ask you something?”

“Of course.”

You sat in silence for a moment, trying to find the right words. Bob didn’t pressure you, and part of you was glad. “Do you like me the way I like you?”

“What way do you like me?” He asked cautiously.

“More than a friend, handsome,” you said lightly, peering up at him as your heart thundered in your ears.

He chuckled softly. “Yeah, sweetheart. I like you the same way you like me.”

“Okay, good.” You smiled, catching his eye.

He dipped his head, resting his forehead against yours. “I’m sorry if I’ve given you any reason to doubt,” he told you.

“I just needed to be sure, that’s all,” you told him. “There’s been times when I’ve thought you were going to kiss me, but you haven’t.”

“I needed to be sure of my feelings for you before I kissed you for the first time,” he said, hand lightly cupping your face. Thumb brushing over your cheek. “You mean so much to me, sweetheart. I’d never be able to forgive myself if I hurt you because we weren’t on the same page.”

“We’re on the same page now, handsome.”

“Yeah, we are,” he said, tilting your chin so he could capture your lips in a kiss you’d been anticipating for a month.

Finally.

You kissed him back softly, slowly. Savouring the feeling of his mouth against yours and the fire that ignited low in your belly. Your arms finding their way around his neck, fitting against him like you were two pieces of a puzzle that had long awaited their missing piece.

His hand slipped behind your head to cup the base of your skull, fingers winding their way into your hair. Your mouth parted slightly, sucking his bottom lip as a low groan rumbled in his chest.

And then there was the cheering. Bob’s squadron of friends whooping and hollering as they watched the spectacle of your first kiss from the rear entrance of the Hard Deck.

You chuckled against Bob’s lips, drawing him in for another kiss as you flipped them all off. His tongue pressed past your open lips as he deepened the kiss, earning a delicious moan in response.

Neither of you cared about the audience, or that it slowly grew quieter again. The blood rushed in your veins, your body reacting to his touch and you felt hot. Shrugging off his jacket as your fingers tugged at his hair and his grip around your waist tightened.

You were breathing heavily when you parted, Bob’s own breath matching yours as you softly laughed from the bliss of it all and started to smooth back his hair.

“You’re so fucking pretty,” you confessed, voice barely above a whisper.

“Quit stealin’ m’ lines,” he said, voice thick and gravelly even as heat rose to his cheeks.

“Hello, Montana,” you teased, fanning your face with your hand at the sudden tone of the Montana drawl he said only appeared when he was stressed. “Been wondering if your accent also came back when you were turned on.”

“Might be playin’ it up a bit f’ you,” he replied, cocking his head as he smiled and brushed some of your hair back from your face.

You hummed, smiling softly as he dipped his head for another kiss. This one was short but sweet, like he couldn’t help himself and he just had to kiss you again. Like he already missed the feeling of your lips against his and knew you weren’t going to protest.

“You wanna go back inside or stay out here a bit longer?” He asked sweetly.

His gaze flitted to your lips so you kissed him. “I’ll go wherever you go, handsome.”

By the time you were ready to go back inside, because the temperature had dropped a bit more and you noticed the goosebumps on Bob’s arms despite his insistence that he wasn’t cold, your lips were puffy and his hair was a mess. He’d given you his jacket again and walked a little taller with his arm around your waist, guiding you back towards his group of friends.

“You finally resurfaced for air, huh?” Phoenix teased you both, earning a laugh from you as you stole her drink and finished the last of it. Bob simply smiled.

“Another drink?” You asked Bob.

“Please and thank you,” he replied, earning a chorus of groans from his friends. His colleagues. His family. All he did in response was flip them off, grinning as you squeezed his hand before heading off to the bar.

“Treat her well, Floyd.”

Bob met Phoenix’s gaze. The woman, his pilot and someone he considered to be a best friend, wore a hard look. Of course, he knew her well enough at this point to know she was saying it out of loyalty to you, but also for his own benefit. If he hurt her, he knew she’d choose you. As much as she loved and respected him, she wouldn’t hesitate to kick his ass if he made you cry.

“Yes, ma’am,” he answered honestly. “You g’na give her the same talk? Would hate to accuse you of playing favourites.”

“Oh, there’d be some truth to the accusations,” she replied with a laugh. “I’ve had the same talk with her already, Bob.”

At the bar, you greeted Penny with a warm smile. She finished serving the flock of women down the end before making her way over to you.

“Your usual?” She asked.

“And Bob’s,” you replied. She was already cracking open a beer before you’d even said his name. “All knowing bartender you are.”

She laughed. “Just a heads up. His ex is here for her hen’s night,” she told you, gesturing to the group she’d just served. “They’re drunk and up to no good.”

“Uh huh,” you said. It was clear which one was his ex. She wore the tacky ‘Bride to Be’ sash and the other women wore ones that said ‘Bridesmaid’s to Be’.

“Don’t roll your eyes too hard,” Penny warned you with a teasing smile.

“Thanks, Penny,” you told her, taking a sip of your drink. “How much?”

“I changed them for it,” she told you quietly, earning a boisterous laugh in response. She shot you a wink. “They haven’t seen you guys yet, but they’re flapping their jaws.”

“Appreciate the heads up, Penny,” you said honestly.

You’d had a great time tonight and you didn’t want Bob’s ex or her friends to ruin it. Part of you still believed he was hung up on her and you wished it wasn’t true. He’d told you he liked you. You’d seen his behaviour change from someone suffering through life to someone enjoying it. You were part of the reason his behaviour had lifted over the last few weeks.

Squaring your shoulders, you headed towards the group with a huge smile on your face.

“Oh my God, you’re getting married!” You gushed and it was just what the women needed to squeal and fawn over Bob’s ex. You knew her name, you just didn’t want to say it. “Congratulations, you must be so happy!”

“Thank you,” she replied, her answer quipped. “I’m sorry, we’re kind of on a mission to find someone tonight. Do you come here often? Maybe you could help us?”

“I can try my best,” you replied honestly.

“Do you know Bob Floyd?” One of the Bridesmaids asked you.

“Yeah, I know Bob.” You cocked your head. “Why do you need Bob for this mission?”

The women all shared a look and giggled. A different one spoke. “We want him to strip for Jamie. As one last hurrah before she gets married, you know?”

This time you giggled. “Oh, you couldn’t afford him,” you responded, watching the Bride to Be’s face turn from amused to confused, then fall completely. “I’m sure there’s someone here who would be into it, though. Hangman maybe?”

“Jake’s an asshole,” the bride snapped.

“I think he’s a sweetheart. A little misguided, but his heart’s in the right place. Maybe you’re right though, he seems to be loyal to his friends,” you mused, enjoying the discomfort growing on the Bride to Be’s face. “Oh, what do I know? You ladies have fun tonight!”

You breezed off towards the back of the bar where Fanboy and Phoenix had carefully hidden the group, grateful for the large crowd tonight so the group of women couldn’t track where you’d gone.

Fanboy eyed you curiously. He’d had eyes on the whole situation since Penny had sent him a text about the unwanted bridal party’s arrival while you and Bob had been outside. He’d positioned himself in a way that he could be hidden but also see everything.

You gave him a smile before you handed Bob his beer and sat down beside him.

“Your ex and her bridal party are trying to find you so you can strip for them,” you stated. Bob stared at you with his bottle raised halfway to his lips. “Don’t worry, I said they couldn’t afford you and offered Hangman instead.”

There was silence for a beat while everyone awaited Bob’s response. It came in the form of laughter, his arm going around your shoulders and a kiss pressed to your temple. With Bob’s own laughter in the air, the group followed suit. Until Hangman realised what you’d actually said.

“Why’d you offer my services?” He asked you.

“I’ve seen you strip to Pony by Ginuwine,” you stated.

“If I remember correctly, you were too busy flirting with Baby On Board to even notice,” he argued playfully.

“And she still knows I’m better than you, Hangman,” Bob replied in the same teasing manner.

“What can I say? I have taste.”

The kiss Bob gave you had the group groaning at the show of PDA. He didn’t care.

Neither did you.

The day of the wedding rolled around quickly. You were set to get ready with Phoenix and had arrived at her place a little after 10am. Mickey and Bob would pick you up just after two to make your way out. You’d planned to meet everyone just before half three since the ceremony kicked off at four.

You’d had a grueling week at work and didn’t even have the energy to see everyone at the Hard Deck last night. Instead, Bob had come over with dinner and the two of you spent the evening cuddling and making out on your couch like horny teenagers. You’d wished things had gone further, the noises he made ignited a flame inside you. A hot, passionate fire raging deep in your belly that your showerhead couldn’t quite extinguish.

He hadn’t stayed the night. You’d seen how torn he was between deciding whether he should stay or go, so you’d made the decision for him. Sure, you were straddling his lap at the time and grinding yourself against the bulge of his erection, but you’d told him there was no rush. No pressure to take things further if he wasn’t quite ready.

He was achingly ready. Fingertips digging into your hips, your lips ghosting over the shell of his ear and breath hot against his skin as you spoke lowly.

“Every second I have with you is more than I thought I’d ever have, so until you make the first move, this is as far as we go,” you’d said.

“This is so much more fun than going home and getting off with my hand,” he’d replied with a groan.

“But it’s so fucking hot knowing you’re going to jerk off thinking of me,” you’d told him, your core clenching at the thought.

“You g’na get yourself off thinkin’ o’ me, sweetheart?”

“Seems only fair.”

The sounds he’d made had been replaying in your head all night. Nothing you’d tried had been as good at making you cum than the thought of him stroking his cock while thinking of you.

You’d been distracted all morning since you’d been at Phoenix’s getting ready. When she’s tried to ask, you’d brushed it off as nerves for this wedding. She’d hummed skeptically but had given you enough glasses of wine that had you spilling your guts.

Then she’d wished you hadn’t, but you needed to get it out. Needed to tell someone about your frustration in the hopes they’d set you right and tell you what you needed to hear. So she pushed aside her discomfort and did just that.

“You’ve been patient with Bob for almost two months,” she said. “I know you’re on the same page now, but he doesn’t rush things. He’s in his head a lot because his job is to weigh every possible scenario before he acts. He’s never thinking of himself because my ass is on the line, too. That’s what he’ll be doing. Your patience will be rewarded, and I’ll have to mentally brace myself to hear all the details, but he’s so into you, Y/N. Don’t doubt that for a fucking second.”

“I know, I know. I do, believe me. I know I go all in too fast sometimes, so can you just tell me that going slow for once isn’t a bad thing?”

“Going slow isn’t a bad thing,” she repeated, except you believed her whereas telling yourself the same thing felt like a load of shit. “Now do you want lunch or nibbles?”

“Lunch. I need to absorb some of this alcohol before I get in the car for the next two hours.”

You ordered sandwiches from the shop down the street and continued to get ready while you ate. The music got turned up and the vibe was lively. Laughter flowed as you took dance breaks or strutted the fake catwalk. It wasn’t until there was a knock at the door that you realised the time.

Phoenix opened the door for Mickey and Bob and you chugged the last of your wine.

“Don’t you two look dapper?” She greeted your dates with a teasing compliment. “A bow-tie, Mick? Really?”

“See, this is why I needed your opinion,” he countered, greeting her with a hug and a heady kiss. Phoenix was quick to take the tie off and undo the first two buttons of his shirt.

“Hi,” Bob greeted you shyly.

He looked amazing in his suit, like you knew he would. His hair curled at the nape of his neck, evidence that it’d been a while since he’d last cut it, but you didn’t complain. No, you liked the length. You loved to tug it, and that’s what had convinced him to avoid the barber’s for the foreseeable future.

“Hi yourself, handsome,” you replied, sliding your hands up his torso to grab the lapels of his jacket. His hands found your waist as the two of you shared a sweet kiss. You hummed as you parted and wiped away at a speck of lipstick lingering on his lips. “How do I look?”

“Good enough to eat,” he replied lowly.

“I’ll hold you to that,” you teased playfully. He kissed you again, unable to help himself. “Where are you glasses, Bobert?”

“He put contacts in,” Mickey supplied. “Ended up crying because he stabbed himself in the eye while we were driving over here.”

“You hit a pothole,” Bob stated.

“I miss the glasses,” you said with a pout. Bob shared a look with Phoenix and Fanboy who wore identical smiles. “What was that look for?”

“I’ll tell you later,” Bob assured you. You believed him.

The ride to the venue was a blast. You had the windows down, music pumping and shared a bottle of wine with Phoenix and Bob. They’d laughed when you’d grabbed the bottle before leaving, but Bob had a good buzz on and you and Phoenix were on a mission to appear more sober than you actually were.

That proved easier said than done, but at least you had a pair of sunglasses.

You kept half an eye on Bob. He seemed to be in good spirits, but you weren’t sure if it was for show or not. Of course, he did keep you glued to his side, which you didn’t mind. His arm around your waist, helping keep you steady since it was obvious that you and Phoenix had started drinking hours before everyone else.

Shit.

You weren’t complaining about his close proximity. Standing beneath the shade of a nearby tree while you sipped a bottle of water from one hand or a glass of prosecco from your other. Bob and Rooster were chatting to some other people they knew. Friends of Bob’s ex, apparently. You paid some attention to the conversation, but Phoenix was waving you over to where her and Fanboy were.

“I’ll be back, just going to see what Nix wants,” you told Bob, kissing his cheek. He smiled in response, following you towards where the duo sat in front of a few snacks. “What’s up?”

“Mickey thinks we need to eat more,” Phoenix told you, stacking a slice of cheese on a cracker before dipping it in a bowl.

“You almost tripped twice walking over here,” he commented, arm around the back of Nix’s chair.

“You try walking on grass in heels,” you replied, taking a seat and setting your drinks in front of you before picking at a slice of salami.

“She’s right,” Nix agreed. “Lover boy is on his way over.”

“You have separation anxiety or something?” Mickey teased, earning a laugh from Bob.

He took a seat beside you, arm resting on the back of your chair. Copying the duo sitting on the opposite side of the table. “They’re talking about baseball and I couldn’t give a single fuck about it. Better company here, anyway.”

“Charmer,” you teased, slicing some brie to put on a cracker with half of a cherry tomato. He grinned your way as you put the whole thing in your mouth, shaking his head as you struggled to chew it.

“Hungry?”

“They’ve been drinking since ten,” Mickey told him, smiling fondly at Phoenix as she scooped guac onto a chip and shoved it in her mouth.

“Ahh,” Bob replied, swiping your prosecco and finishing it before you could protest. “Finish your water.”

Chat was aimless as you all picked at the snacks on the table. Talking about your job or their training. Making plans for a double date sometime soon. It was easy.

Eventually Hangman and Coyote found you, handing out more prosecco or beer. They talked shit about some of the guests who looked annoyed to even be in attendance, which then started the game of trying to guess who everyone was. Making up stories about them, or names, until you were all in hysterics at Mickey’s description of an older woman.

He’d said her name was Myrtle and she had a turtle, but she was undercover for the CIA because some ex-Russian military – who were the groom’s family, – were here to cause trouble. His exact words were “eliminate everyone in attendance,” but assured you all that Myrtle had it under control.

Payback and Rooster joined you all after hearing your group’s laughter over everything else and immediately got in on the game too.

Your table was the loudest by far. Guests casting disgusted looks your way whenever someone finished their description, starting another round based on who looked the most annoyed. How else were you supposed to pass the time waiting for the ceremony to kick off? Mingling with people you didn’t know and gushing about how happy you were for the soon-to-be-wed couple? Get fucked.

“More drinks?” Hangman asked.

The guys had all hung their jackets over the backs of their chairs. It was hot, and while there was an umbrella covering the table, a few of the guys were still in the sun. Sleeves rolled to their elbows, empty waters on the table in front of them, and occasionally swapping just so no one burned.

There was a chorus of yes’ as he headed inside. The snacks in front of you had been finished for a while, but Rooster had swiped a tray of finger sandwiches which didn’t last long.

Bob had moved his chair closer to you to get out of the sun as it moved in the sky. You didn’t mind at all, especially not when you’d gone to the bathroom and come back to find him in your seat. Taking residence in his lap so you didn’t have to sit in the sun.

He’d pressed the occasional kiss to your shoulder, hand resting low on your hip, the other holding a bottle of water.

“They’re about to start,” Hangman said, arms full of water and a few bottles of beer.

Just as he said that, someone came out to ask everyone to move to the seats set up, or to stand at the back. It was obvious there wasn’t enough seating, so the group opted to stand under one of the trees not too far away. There was no need to be seated, and this way you all could still drink without looking obnoxious.

Mickey poured a bottle of water over Bob’s head, while Rooster and Hangman did the same thing on their own.

Bob wrung some of the water out before standing up and combing his fingers through his hair. You watched his forearms flex with the movement, enraptured by the show and the few droplets that trickled down his face and neck.

He pressed a cold, wet hand to the back of your neck and you almost melted, earning a laugh in response.

“God damn, that’s nice,” you said, closing your eyes for a moment. When they opened again, Bob was smiling before he leaned down and stole a kiss. “That was nicer.”

He chuckled, snaking his arm around your waist. “You’re welcome.”

He pressed a kiss to the tip of your nose, much to the dismay of the group. To hell with them, though. You were happy, Bob was happy, and that’s all that mattered.

The music started and you sipped your beer as the bridesmaids slowly made their way down the aisle.

Bob had anticipated this day for years. Except the reality was a stark contrast to what he’d envisioned. When he saw Jamie walking out with her father, he thought he’d feel bitter. He thought he still harboured some resentment towards her for moving on so quickly. For finding happiness with another man. For planning her wedding with someone other than him.

But he didn’t.

He didn’t feel bitter, or even happy. He felt like though the plans he’d had ended up being far different, that he wouldn’t change it for the world. Yeah, he’d struggled with the separation and all of her life changes initially, but now? Now, he felt whole. He felt like he’d found what he’d always been missing. And to think you’d only breezed into his life almost two months ago, and now had become his rock. The person he confided in. The person he wanted to do better for completely took his breath away.

Everything he’d ever wanted was standing in his arms at his ex’s wedding. What the fuck? Bob felt like a fucking idiot. He wished he’d realised it sooner. He wished he’d blown off the whole wedding and taken you on another spectacular date.

It was too late to leave now, but he didn’t want to stay. He wanted to whisk you away and tell you how much of an idiot he was for not acknowledging what was right in front of his face all along.

You.

Yet you smiled and leaned into him as the ceremony wore on. Your smile never once seemed fake, and he knew it was because you were a good person. A better person than he was, anyway. You’d supported him every step of the way. Encouraged him to find comfort in himself. Love himself first. And with that, you’d earned his heart. Words couldn’t even begin to explain it, but whenever you looked at him it was like you knew. You understood him without the need for words.

“If there is anyone who believes this couple should not wed, speak now or forever hold your piece.”

Jamie’s eyes were on Bob. He could see hopefulness, longing, and the evil green-eyed monster; jealousy. His arms were around you and you rested back into his chest. His chin sat atop of your head, and your group all stood with him in solidarity.

He knew you saw the look. She was looking right at the two of you. But still, you were relaxed and content in his embrace, and he didn’t bat an eye.

The rest of the ceremony was concluded and Phoenix audibly exhaled beside him.

“She looked like she was hoping you’d interrupt,” she commented.

“My best guess is that’s why I was invited in the first place,” he admitted. “Especially since Y/N said they were trying to find me to strip for her at her bachelorette party.”

Phoenix hummed. You twisted in Bob’s arms, giving him a proper hug. He tightened his grip without question.

“Hangman, you wanna steal some more beers for the road? I feel like pizza,” Bob said, earning a laugh from Hangman as he slapped Bob’s shoulder.

“Coyote, Payback, let’s roll.”

You all grabbed your things before meeting out the front. Handing over jackets and sunglasses while accepting beer in return. Rooster and Fanboy planned where to meet, and then you were heading off. It was a short trip. Everyone was hungry and needed to eat before the drive back home. Sure, it was only a couple hours, but the heat played a factor in their exhaustion.

Bob took your hand and pulled you aside once you arrived at the pizza joint. Everyone else headed inside, but he needed a minute.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asked softly.

“I’m so good, handsome,” you told him honestly, smiling proudly. Adoringly. “You okay?”

“The best I’ve been in a long time,” he admitted. “Because I have you. I have someone in my corner who only wants the best for me.”

“Bobert?” He hummed in acknowledgement. “This is the part where you ask me to officially be your girlfriend.”

“Hurry up and ask her so we can eat!” Hollered Rooster from the doorway. You both turned to look at him, only to be met with the faces of everyone closest to you. They all waited expectantly.

“Will you be my girlfriend, sweetheart?”

“I’ll do anything you want me to do, handsome.”

#bob floyd #robert bob floyd #bob floyd x reader #bob floyd x you #bob floyd angst #bob floyd fanfiction #SOURGUTS #sourguts writing challenge #*good 4 u #bob floyd fanfic

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Is there garlic on this pizza? An oral history of Supernatural's 'Monster Movie' episode

THE BEGINNING

What started as a simple enough idea — a black-and-white episode — was then put into the hands of writer Ben Edlund, who’d already crafted some of the show’s more creative hours, including “Hollywood Babylon,” which marked one of the series’ first meta episodes, and “Ghostfacers,” which was shot like a cheesy ghost-hunting reality show using handheld cameras. Alongside Edlund was director Robert Singer, an executive producer on the series and a massive movie fan himself.

ERIC KRIPKE (Creator): I was an obsessive fan of The X-Files and in their prime, they got really bold and adventurous with their format, and they had a black-and-white episode. I was always hoping that we could start taking those same kinds of swings. I remember saying, “I want to do a black-and-white episode where Sam and Dean are up against the classic movie monsters.” But I think Ben came up with the shapeshifter. We were trying to figure out: How do you get a mummy and a werewolf and a Frankenstein and a Dracula in the same episode? That makes no f---ing sense. So this idea of a shapeshifter who loved those movies and was ultimately just a fanboy was the secret to cracking that one open.

ROBERT SINGER (Director): I think that script was Ben at his best. I was really happy that I was in line to direct because I really loved those old movies, so it was fortuitous that I got to do it.

JENSEN ACKLES (Dean Winchester): It’s all just paying homage to the old-school ways of doing things, which having Bob at the helm, he’s seen all those movies time and time again, so he was the perfect guy to direct this episode.

KRIPKE: Bob has an encyclopedic knowledge of movies, especially older films. He’s a classicist and his directing style is a lot of that kind of beautiful, elegant Hollywood style, and I think he just really relished it.

SINGER: I shot generally with wider lenses than I would normally do with Supernatural to try to give it some of that old-time feel. I really took pains to make it look as old fashioned as I possibly could. I’m a big fan of James Whale, who had done Frankenstein, and there are a lot of great crane shots in those movies, so I did a lot of crane work in this. We did a lot of shadow play.

JARED PADALECKI (Sam Winchester): You put Ben Edlund on writing and Bob Singer on directing and magic is bound to happen.

But there was another piece of the puzzle that needed to come together for the magic to truly work: Who would play the shapeshifter (and therefore spend the episode doing their best Dracula)? The answer was Todd Stashwick.

TODD STASHWICK (Dracula): They wanted a full-on replication of Bela Lugosi’s performance. I had the DVD of the 1930’s Dracula, so I was watching that just to get the mannerisms and vocal intonation down so that I wasn’t doing a Xerox carbon copy but rather actually trying to get that Hungarian dialect that he has. I went in [to the audition] and just swung for the rafters.

SINGER: We had him do one of the Dracula scenes and then do the speech where he’s telling her how he became the way he became and Todd just killed it. That was an easy call to cast him.

STASHWICK: They wanted to know that you were going to be able to bring both sides to it, the full-on studied Dracula performance and then to let that mask drop and see the wounded man that is the monster.

KRIPKE: We needed someone who could stick the landing on the Dracula part and that’s really hard. It’s hard to do it and have it not come off like a bit. Todd is a remarkable mimic of Bela Lugosi and brings humanity and soulfulness and depth to it. There’s something in his eyes that made it deeper and sadder than had you cast someone who was just going for an impersonation.

PADALECKI: That episode belongs to Todd Stashwick. He’s so damn good.

Alongside Stashwick was Melinda Sward, whose character Jamie, a local waitress, caught Dean's eye and marked a first for the show.

KRIPKE: At the time, there was a young female fan named Jamie. She and her mother would write us letters and they were super fans, and we were still early enough that we’re like, “I can’t believe there’s fans.” Jamie had medical issues, so when the season was coming up, I wrote her a response and said, “If you concentrate on getting better, we’ll name a character after you.” And she responded and said, “That’s amazing, but can you just do me a favor? Can you make sure it’s a character that doesn’t die?” So the female lead in this one we named Jamie. That was one of the only times we ever named a character after a real person and a fan. The happy ending is she was thrilled and she grew up healthy and now tours around with a replica of the Impala.

ACKLES: Jamie was one of my favorite Dean Girls. Melinda was so good and so fun.

From the instant the episode began, fans knew they were in for something special as the old black-and-white WB logo kicked off a very old-school credits sequence.

SINGER: Right from the opening of the Warner Brothers shield, you know where you’re going. It set the tone perfectly.

KRIPKE: That and “Changing Channels” are the only two episodes where I’ll sit down and just watch the credit sequence. The font, the way you list every crew member, and it just goes on forever. And [composer Christopher] Lennertz wrote real orchestral music for it. I just love the opening of that episode and the way we did that title sequence. But changing subjects, what that reminds me of is the singular genius of Ben Edlund to set this episode during Oktoberfest. Suddenly everyone looks like European villagers and everything becomes a real monster movie.

SINGER: And that location was a party site, but it worked perfect for us.

PADALECKI: It was like an amusement park in the outskirts of Vancouver that we rented out. It ended up unfortunately getting torn down and turned into condos or something.

THE MIDDLE

With the setting and the cast locked, the brothers set out on their hunt, arriving at Oktoberfest to help solve a murder. And when the investigation made Dean late to his first date with Jamie, he found himself face-to-face with Dracula. So naturally, Dean punched the shapeshifter in the face. A fight ensued, one that ended with Dean holding an ear and Dracula ... riding a vespa?

ACKLES: I believe one of the many reasons this show lasted as long as it did is because it can be scary but then at the same time, you throw something like the scooter in and it layers in comedy with horror, with drama, with romance. It touches it all. Bob said it early on and it became a mantra of ours: “No joke is too cheap.”

STASHWICK: That’s the infamous assault scene. I’m in full crazy mode and I’m supposed to clock Jensen in his beautiful face with my elbow, and for whatever reason in that moment — I perhaps leaned in, he perhaps leaned in — we closed that gap and I clocked him. So what you see on the DVD extras is me being all Dracula and then me being mortified that I just hit their billion dollar baby in the face.

ACKLES: He caught me with an elbow but he probably thought he hit me harder than he did. It was a mix between a good shot and a graze, but he immediately broke character. He was like, “Are you good?” And I was like, “Yeah, that one woke me up.” [Laughs]

Dean made it through that fight, but the shapeshifter had already planned its next move: While Sam checked out an eccentric local that they thought was the killer, Dean and Jamie shared a drink back at the bar where she worked. Her friend Lucy (Holly Elissa) then showed up just in time to spike their drinks. By the time Dean woke up, he was wearing Lederhosen while strapped to a table in a dungeon.

SINGER: Jensen was like, “Oh god do I have to wear this?” So to make him feel better, I put on the Lederhosen top. I didn’t go with the full shorts but I did direct that day in the Lederhosen top to take the edge off it a little bit for him.

ACKLES: I remember that! He directed in that shirt. [Laughs] Those were authentic leather Lederhosen from Bavaria. Only the best for Dean.

PADALECKI: When Jensen’s first getting strapped to the table, cause he’s a big guy, I remember them talking about how for the visual's sake, they wanted it to be like he’s a quote-unquote damsel in distress, so if they used a normal-sized platform, it would’ve looked comical, but not in a good way. So they had to make it a little bigger cause he’s kind of big.

Dean wasn’t in the dungeon long before Dracula left him to go answer the doorbell. It seemed the shapeshifter ordered a pizza … and he had a coupon.

KRIPKE: I just love how there’s the monster lab in the basement but then you go upstairs and it’s this mid-century ranch house. That’s almost a direct ripoff of the Steve Martin movie The Man with Two Brains.

SINGER: [Set designer] Jerry [Wanek] did a great job in building the dungeon set, and then when the doorbell rings, you realize it’s in the bottom of a suburban house with a pizza guy showing up at the door.

KRIPKE: When Ben wrote the script, we talked about that scene more than any other scene in the episode. We were so specific about how we wanted the Dracula shapeshifter to react to the pizza guy and the way he’s scared when he says, “Is there garlic on the pizza?” And then the way the pizza guy’s so bored and over it: “Did you order garlic?” And then he says, “No!” It’s the way that he’s so bored of this Dracula at the door.

PADALECKI: I think Jensen and I must’ve watched this episode together in 2008 because I remember us looking at each other and going like, ”Oh my god, [the pizza guy] is way better than he needs to be!”

ACKLES: That line, because of the way that Todd delivered it, we used that line on set many, many times. Whenever somebody asked a question that had an obvious “no” to it, it’d be like, “Hey, did you want the big light on in the distance?” And Bob would be like, “Is there garlic on it?” So that became a little ism on set.

STASHWICK: I’m a Second City guy, so “yes, and” is drilled into my head and yet the two memes I’m most known for, I’m saying the word “no,” and that is Supernatural and Star Trek. I have the no's that are heard around the world.

In the end, the brothers came out victorious and another monster was dead, but not before this one made you feel a little something (and gave one heck of a final monologue quoting King Kong).

KRIPKE: Ben gets all the credit, and rightfully so, for writing the crazy episodes, but where I don’t think he gets enough credit is what a disciplined screenwriter he is in terms of character consistency and rule consistency and just the emotion and pathos he brings to every single story he does. No matter how crazy, he always has such a talent for capturing humanity. I wasn’t counting on the shapeshifter to have pathos but when he gives that speech at the end, it’s so sad. I give him all the credit in the world for that.

SINGER: Eric used to say, “Every villain is a hero of his own story,” so we always tried, as best we could, to give the villains something to do and learn more about them and give them full characters. So even with all this fun, we managed to give him something a little more to do.

PADALECKI: He becomes an almost sympathetic character — I stress almost because he did kill a couple people — but what a great character arc all inside of one episode.

STASHWICK: Because this character wasn’t just a cartoon Dracula and he had that human moment, I think it made him stick in people’s minds more. This monster just really loved the movies. He was the ultimate cosplayer. It might be the thing I’m most known for outside of Star Trek, that one episode of TV.

THE END...?

Although Dracula didn’t make it out alive, the episode seemed to breathe new life into the series, marking perhaps its biggest risk yet, though not the biggest risk the show would ever take.

SINGER: It kind of laid a template for other big swings that we took that were out of the ordinary, whether it was “Changing Channels” or “The French Mistake.” This was the first of our big swings of being totally different than what the show was generally week to week.

KRIPKE: I remember it getting a positive reception. I think people appreciated the swings we were starting to take. I just love that this small little supernatural show that’s arguably a Buffy ripoff on The CW got so experimental. I am really proud that we were doing legit avant-garde stuff, really experimental filmmaking, of which this was one, and then we just kept pushing it.

PADALECKI: It’s such a great episode of television and I think we have a few in our 15 years that could stand alone as something fun to watch and out of the box, and it's certainly easy to argue "Monster Movie" is at the top.

ACKLES: This was really when we were hitting our stride. We were in the pocket with these characters, with the storytelling, with the writing. The first year was really finding our feet, the second was like, "Okay we somehow survived a network merge, let’s not mess this up." And then third season we started playing a little bit. So by the fourth season, we’re like, "Now we know where we need to be." This was the perfect time to do one of these outside-the-box episodes. This is definitely one of my top 10.

SINGER: I directed 48 episodes and if somebody asked me which is my favorite, I would probably say this one. I just had the best time doing it.

Entertainment Weekly

#supernatural #spn 4x05 #jared padalecki #jensen ackles #robert singer #eric kripke #tom stashwick

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