Disclaimer: I don't own "The Conjuring" franchise or any of its characters, wishful thinking aside.

Authors Note #1: Inspired by evangelion0319 who sent me an ask on tumblr about writing more Brad x Drew. Naturally, I said, nah, then couldn't think of anything else for days. So, this is an addition to my existing series: "(Human) Connections." It is meant to be read chronologically last. This was mildly inspired by an image post on tumblr about love starting at the kitchen table.

Warnings: pre or during "The Conjuring: The Devil made me do it," domesticity, established relationship, romance, drama, angst, intimacy, emotional constipation, period typical attitudes.

Manifesting (love)

Brad was frowning at his coffee mug when he shuffled into the kitchen. He ran a hand through his hair as he yawned. Ruffling it until his jaw cracked. Normally that would have gotten him some sort of reaction. A joke or some sass. A sour look even. But Brad didn't look up.

"What is it?" he asked softly. Already having a good idea. There had been something about the weight of the arm slung over his side this morning that'd set the tone.

He knew him too well to assume different.

"I couldn't get the time off," Brad grunted. Taking a long sip from his mug before grimacing. Cold. Old. Stale.

His bare feet made a sticking sound on the linoleum as he eyed the coffee pot. Deciding to make a fresh one as the dregs of Brad's mug painted the inside rim.

It wasn't until the coffee maker was popping and churning that he turned. Leaning against the counter. The elastic of his boxers loose around his hips. Knowing exactly how this was going to go as he rubbed his big toe across the ugly, mustard-yellow pattern.

"It's okay," he hummed, eying the way Brad's uniform was only half done up. Badge askew like a metaphor. "I figured."

It wasn't the first time they'd been here, having this conversation. Hell, he knew it by heart. Brad had the job that actually paid. And as much as he wanted Brad with him, sometimes this was the reality.

Brad made a face. Inching the chair across from him back a bit in clear invitation. He eyed the coffee maker before taking him up on it. Embracing the warm feeling when Brad's leg immediately tangled with his. Uniform trousers against bare thigh.

This he understood. Brad's kind of love often felt like it was stored at the kitchen table. He wasn't the most expressive guy around. He wasn't the kind of man that said: "I love you." But what he did do was moments like this. Where he showed it without needing words.

"Where is this place again?" Brad asked, nudging the handle of his mug to the side like a sos. He grinned and grabbed the coffee pot. Filling both their mugs before setting it back on the machine to hiss off the excess steam.

"Brookfield, Connecticut" he hummed, letting his hand graze the line of his shoulders as he folded back into his seat. Smiling when Brad's leg found his again. Easy as breathing.

The frown was back in full force though.

"Take the car, at least?" Brad asked, "Your shit box isn't going to make it without breaking down this time."

He raised an eyebrow, but decided not to comment his baby's behalf. Brad was right. The van had been making some weird noises lately. But mostly because this was another thing Brad did sometimes. It wasn't coddling. It was his way of being there, even if he couldn't be part of the case. And honestly, it probably made both of them feel better.

"Be careful," Brad finally exhaled, like he'd been holding his breath the entire time. "Something about this one...I don't know."

He waited, but Brad didn't say anything more. It was that awareness again, probably. That sixth sense that made Brad special. He respected it, counted on it, but at the end of the day, he couldn't let it keep him from doing what he loved. Ed and Lorraine needed him on this one, more than ever. He figured that was the only reason Brad was letting him go at all.

He reached across the table, palm up. Waiting until Brad eventually unkinked his fingers and took him up on it. Holding hands where the rest of the world started their day.

"You know I will."

Their love didn't start at a kitchen table, but he had the strong belief it was where it could be found, years from now.

After all, what was love about other than finding someone to share your kitchen with?


A/N: Thank you for reading, please let me know what you think. – This story is now complete.