Crush, Epilogue
Epilogue
November 2017
This isn’t the end of my story/memoir/whatever, because there’s an epilogue I’ve got to include.
After Dean and Sam left things were pretty bad for me for a while. In the end my Mom made me see a therapist, and surprisingly it actually helped me out a lot, because seriously, I had some major fucking baggage, what with my dad and being gay and in love with a guy who’d been a dead wanted criminal and who was fucking his brother…
Anyway, shit got better eventually and about four years later Evan and I moved to New York. (No, not like that, though Evan did turn out to be bi-sexual - which, so fucking typical of him - choose already dude). So, we were living in Brooklyn, sharing this unbelievably tiny shithole with this other dude called Garry who was a go-go dancer, and I was taking drama and tending bar at this local gay pub to pay my rent. I know, I know, total New York gay stereotype, but it turned out that I was fucking good at acting. It had kinda saved me during all those awful post-Dean months and I’d had to pass shitloads of auditions to get into that school, and let’s face it, there was no way I was ever gonna end up a freaking mechanic.
So I was tending bar one night at the gay pub where I worked, and I kinda stopped in the middle of pouring someone's gin and tonic in shock when the music on the jukebox switched to Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. I think it was probably the first time ever someone had played that freaking song in here and to be honest I hadn't been aware we even had it, and the thing was... it always, always made me think of Dean - of that day when I'd first seen him...
I glanced across at the jukebox and froze.
There was Dean.
It was weird, but kinda not at the same time. From the moment I'd heard that damn song, I'd had this strange feeling of inevitability...
Whatever, he was here now and I was staring in shock over at him and totally screwing up the order I was in the middle of fixing. I finally got myself together, pouring away the botched gin and tonic and reaching to fix another, trying vainly to stop my hands from shaking. I couldn't stop my stomach fluttering and churning though, and it was like no time had passed at all, exactly like it used to be all those years ago…
I watched him approach the bar from the corner of my eye, at which point I fled to the other end and started filling someone else’s order, way too scared to confront him yet. When I finally did turn around, he was not alone. Sam was with him.
“Hey! Can we get some service over here?”
I gulped and slowly approached them, keeping my head ducked as I took their order. I must’ve looked like a complete retard because I was trying not to stare at them while I pulled their beers, the second time I looked up, I noticed them watching me curiously and I flushed and looked away.
“Hey - it’s Derek, isn’t it?” Dean called out.
Shit.
I set my shoulders and turned around, pasting on a fake smile and nodding dumbly.
“Yeah, man, it is you. I knew it.”
He grinned, and whoa - there it was, my stomach ducking and diving like I remembered. He nudged Sam and said, “Told you. You owe me five bucks Sammy.”
“I’ll take it out in trade,” Sam shrugged.
Dean laughed out loud, and I felt slightly ill. They both looked so much like they used to, older yeah, and with more grey hair, but Sam was still crazily fucking tall, still built like a linebacker and still with the same dumb haircut and Dean… God he was just as hot as I remembered… fuller in the face, like he’d put on some weight, but that only made him seem even hotter, less godlike and unobtainable than he used to be.
“So you work here?” he asked.
I still hadn’t said anything by this point, still opening and closing my mouth and nodding and smiling like a complete tool. But I finally managed to nod my head and say, “Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I do.”
Then, suddenly remembering that I was, you know, in the middle of getting their freaking drinks, I turned around and went back to pouring them, trying to stop my dumbass hand from shaking too much. I took a while getting the heads right on their beers, trying to calm myself down while being hit by a rush of memories of everything that had happened in that year, by my realizing that I was gay (which - thanks for that Dean) and by everything that had come out when Lucinda had gone digging into their backgrounds.
People say that you never forget your first love and mine had the added bonus of having freaky touching issues and being an ex-con, supposedly dead and once wanted for murder. Plus, there was the whole thing where Dean was one of the hottest guys I’d ever known, and oh yeah, was in a crazy incestuous relationship with his brother who was also one of the hottest guys I’d ever known.
Pretty fucking unforgettable.
“Wow, you’re all grown up, huh?” Dean said as I gave them the beers, shooting me a wink which went straight to my cock. I saw Sam roll his eyes from the corner of my eye and felt my cheeks start to heat up. “Lookin’ good dude.”
Jesus, I was blushing like it was the best compliment I’d ever been given. It was entirely pathetic. Normally, and I know this is probably hard to believe, but normally, my game was good. Working as a bartender in this place, I’d learned to flirt like it was second nature, and I was used to hooking up at least twice a week. But just that compliment from Dean, and I was a puddle of lame and pathetic goo again, just like the clueless nineteen year old I used to be. It was pitiful.
He beckoned me over when I finished serving another customer.
“So what you doin’ in the big city? You at school?”
I told them about the school, about the acting, Dean’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief and he actually laughed out loud, “Seriously? You do that?”
“I was not really cut out to be a mechanic.”
Dean snorted, “Yeah, coulda told you that kid.”
I asked them what they were doing, if they’d settled down somewhere else and they didn’t really answer, just said something about a road trip, about Sam doing research for a book. Mysterious to the last.
They finished up their drinks and made as if to go. Sam taking a twenty from his wallet and putting it into my tip jar with a quick smile.
I nodded thanks and then gabbled out, “I, uh, I gotta say - I want to thank you both -“
“For the tip - it’s nothing…”
“No, no,” I cut Sam off, feeling my cheeks starting to burn. “For, uh, you two. Well, Dean, really. You, uh, you made me realize, back before, that I was gay. I, uh,” I chanced a look at Dean who was looking at me curiously, “You were the first guy I ever had a crush on and if it hadn’t been for you then it might’ve taken me years to figure it out. So, I just, I want to say thanks for that.”
“For bein’ so freakin’ irresistible? Hey, it’s a burden I’m well used to.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Oh God, he’s gonna be unbearable now,” but he was grinning at me, shaking his head at Dean.
“Sorry,” I said.
Sam turned to me to say goodbye, holding out his hand for me to shake, I took it and smiled at him, having a sudden sense memory of the first time I’d seen him, how much he’d freaked me out, how much that scar on his…
Wait a minute…
It wasn’t there. No scar. I dropped his hand with a jolt of surprise.
“Dude, you okay?”
“Your scars, uh, you don’t have the scars anymore,” I stammered out, looking between his and Dean’s hands, because there was nothing on either of Dean’s hands either. No trace of it. Nothing.
They exchanged a quick glance, then Dean gave a dismissive sort of shrug.
“Yeah, we had them removed. Amazing what lasers can do today. Well, uh, we should be goin’, but you take care man.” He held out his hand and I took it, shaking goodbye, still shocked by the lack of scars.
It was only when they were actually walking out of there, door swinging shut behind them, that I realized I’d shaken Dean’s hand.
End
ETA: There's now a timestamp/deleted scene from this universe here
November 2017
This isn’t the end of my story/memoir/whatever, because there’s an epilogue I’ve got to include.
After Dean and Sam left things were pretty bad for me for a while. In the end my Mom made me see a therapist, and surprisingly it actually helped me out a lot, because seriously, I had some major fucking baggage, what with my dad and being gay and in love with a guy who’d been a dead wanted criminal and who was fucking his brother…
Anyway, shit got better eventually and about four years later Evan and I moved to New York. (No, not like that, though Evan did turn out to be bi-sexual - which, so fucking typical of him - choose already dude). So, we were living in Brooklyn, sharing this unbelievably tiny shithole with this other dude called Garry who was a go-go dancer, and I was taking drama and tending bar at this local gay pub to pay my rent. I know, I know, total New York gay stereotype, but it turned out that I was fucking good at acting. It had kinda saved me during all those awful post-Dean months and I’d had to pass shitloads of auditions to get into that school, and let’s face it, there was no way I was ever gonna end up a freaking mechanic.
So I was tending bar one night at the gay pub where I worked, and I kinda stopped in the middle of pouring someone's gin and tonic in shock when the music on the jukebox switched to Don't Stop Believin' by Journey. I think it was probably the first time ever someone had played that freaking song in here and to be honest I hadn't been aware we even had it, and the thing was... it always, always made me think of Dean - of that day when I'd first seen him...
I glanced across at the jukebox and froze.
There was Dean.
It was weird, but kinda not at the same time. From the moment I'd heard that damn song, I'd had this strange feeling of inevitability...
Whatever, he was here now and I was staring in shock over at him and totally screwing up the order I was in the middle of fixing. I finally got myself together, pouring away the botched gin and tonic and reaching to fix another, trying vainly to stop my hands from shaking. I couldn't stop my stomach fluttering and churning though, and it was like no time had passed at all, exactly like it used to be all those years ago…
I watched him approach the bar from the corner of my eye, at which point I fled to the other end and started filling someone else’s order, way too scared to confront him yet. When I finally did turn around, he was not alone. Sam was with him.
“Hey! Can we get some service over here?”
I gulped and slowly approached them, keeping my head ducked as I took their order. I must’ve looked like a complete retard because I was trying not to stare at them while I pulled their beers, the second time I looked up, I noticed them watching me curiously and I flushed and looked away.
“Hey - it’s Derek, isn’t it?” Dean called out.
Shit.
I set my shoulders and turned around, pasting on a fake smile and nodding dumbly.
“Yeah, man, it is you. I knew it.”
He grinned, and whoa - there it was, my stomach ducking and diving like I remembered. He nudged Sam and said, “Told you. You owe me five bucks Sammy.”
“I’ll take it out in trade,” Sam shrugged.
Dean laughed out loud, and I felt slightly ill. They both looked so much like they used to, older yeah, and with more grey hair, but Sam was still crazily fucking tall, still built like a linebacker and still with the same dumb haircut and Dean… God he was just as hot as I remembered… fuller in the face, like he’d put on some weight, but that only made him seem even hotter, less godlike and unobtainable than he used to be.
“So you work here?” he asked.
I still hadn’t said anything by this point, still opening and closing my mouth and nodding and smiling like a complete tool. But I finally managed to nod my head and say, “Uh, yeah, yeah, yeah, I do.”
Then, suddenly remembering that I was, you know, in the middle of getting their freaking drinks, I turned around and went back to pouring them, trying to stop my dumbass hand from shaking too much. I took a while getting the heads right on their beers, trying to calm myself down while being hit by a rush of memories of everything that had happened in that year, by my realizing that I was gay (which - thanks for that Dean) and by everything that had come out when Lucinda had gone digging into their backgrounds.
People say that you never forget your first love and mine had the added bonus of having freaky touching issues and being an ex-con, supposedly dead and once wanted for murder. Plus, there was the whole thing where Dean was one of the hottest guys I’d ever known, and oh yeah, was in a crazy incestuous relationship with his brother who was also one of the hottest guys I’d ever known.
Pretty fucking unforgettable.
“Wow, you’re all grown up, huh?” Dean said as I gave them the beers, shooting me a wink which went straight to my cock. I saw Sam roll his eyes from the corner of my eye and felt my cheeks start to heat up. “Lookin’ good dude.”
Jesus, I was blushing like it was the best compliment I’d ever been given. It was entirely pathetic. Normally, and I know this is probably hard to believe, but normally, my game was good. Working as a bartender in this place, I’d learned to flirt like it was second nature, and I was used to hooking up at least twice a week. But just that compliment from Dean, and I was a puddle of lame and pathetic goo again, just like the clueless nineteen year old I used to be. It was pitiful.
He beckoned me over when I finished serving another customer.
“So what you doin’ in the big city? You at school?”
I told them about the school, about the acting, Dean’s eyebrows shot up in disbelief and he actually laughed out loud, “Seriously? You do that?”
“I was not really cut out to be a mechanic.”
Dean snorted, “Yeah, coulda told you that kid.”
I asked them what they were doing, if they’d settled down somewhere else and they didn’t really answer, just said something about a road trip, about Sam doing research for a book. Mysterious to the last.
They finished up their drinks and made as if to go. Sam taking a twenty from his wallet and putting it into my tip jar with a quick smile.
I nodded thanks and then gabbled out, “I, uh, I gotta say - I want to thank you both -“
“For the tip - it’s nothing…”
“No, no,” I cut Sam off, feeling my cheeks starting to burn. “For, uh, you two. Well, Dean, really. You, uh, you made me realize, back before, that I was gay. I, uh,” I chanced a look at Dean who was looking at me curiously, “You were the first guy I ever had a crush on and if it hadn’t been for you then it might’ve taken me years to figure it out. So, I just, I want to say thanks for that.”
“For bein’ so freakin’ irresistible? Hey, it’s a burden I’m well used to.”
Sam rolled his eyes, “Oh God, he’s gonna be unbearable now,” but he was grinning at me, shaking his head at Dean.
“Sorry,” I said.
Sam turned to me to say goodbye, holding out his hand for me to shake, I took it and smiled at him, having a sudden sense memory of the first time I’d seen him, how much he’d freaked me out, how much that scar on his…
Wait a minute…
It wasn’t there. No scar. I dropped his hand with a jolt of surprise.
“Dude, you okay?”
“Your scars, uh, you don’t have the scars anymore,” I stammered out, looking between his and Dean’s hands, because there was nothing on either of Dean’s hands either. No trace of it. Nothing.
They exchanged a quick glance, then Dean gave a dismissive sort of shrug.
“Yeah, we had them removed. Amazing what lasers can do today. Well, uh, we should be goin’, but you take care man.” He held out his hand and I took it, shaking goodbye, still shocked by the lack of scars.
It was only when they were actually walking out of there, door swinging shut behind them, that I realized I’d shaken Dean’s hand.
End
ETA: There's now a timestamp/deleted scene from this universe here