“I’m so sorry… oh god… I’m sorry… I can’t—it won’t…”
Whatever else Dean tries to say gets lost in more gross sobbing. He can feel Aaron footing around, probably unsure of what to do with the grown man’s hysterical breakdown.
“Look, babe… it’s all right… happens to all of us.”
Not to me , Dean thinks, except he lets out a pitiful whine instead. The comforting hand he’d been expecting finally lands on his shoulder.
“Would you like me to leave? Or maybe I could call someone for you?”
“Nobo—nobody—all dead,” Dean is able to muster as he doubles on the waterworks. Concentrating his efforts on the young Aaron Bass really had been the best idea. The proof came with the man wrapping comforting arms around Dean.
“You gotta have friends, don’t you? There has to be—”
“There’s nobody,” Dean murmurs through sniffles, trying to ring in the tears. He’d given enough of a show already. “People are crap. Or maybe I’m the one that’s crap. Everyone always abandon me. Then I moved here and—”
Dean cuts himself off and goes for the open bottle of Jack on the bedside table. He doesn’t have time to take a swig that Aaron gently takes it out of his hand.
“That’s not gonna help, Dean.”
“Says you!” he spits, motioning to grab the bottle again. Aaron moves it out of the way to put it on the floor.
“I was right where you are, babe. Believe me, I know!” He sits back on the bed, his body lined up alongside Dean’s. “Everything seems real bad right now, but it’s an illusion.”
“Me having no cash, no talent, and no family, that’s not an illusion, man. It’s fucking facts!” Dean lets out some sort of hiccup, hinting he’s doing all he can to hold the pain inside. “I’m fucking useless… and a useless drunk at that.”
When he starts crying again, Dean gets wrapped in an even tighter hug, Aaron burying a hand in his hair to massage his scalp. The man’s other hand lifts up to rest on Dean’s cheek, warm and comforting.
“I’m sorry,” Dean says again, his voice nothing but a rough whisper. “I wish I knew how… I wish I had hope.” As he speaks, his lips catch on Aaron’s stubbled skin. He quells the smile threatening to grace his lips when he feels him shiver.
It’s a good thing that he did because Aaron now has both hands cradling his face. Their eyes are locked together and if there’s a moment Dean needs to act his way to a damn Oscar, that’s it. If he usually can be anybody and do anything, having to play out intimacy has to be the most difficult thing for him.
“Hope is all around you, Dean. You only have to let yourself see it.”
Aaron gently presses his lips against his. It’s nothing compared to their more heated making out session from earlier, yet it makes Dean cringe. He has to close his eyes to steel himself.
“I’ve got nothing to live for,” Dean says this time. He takes a deep breath before opening his eyes again to meet Aaron’s, knowing the time has come. “I’d rather just be dead.” He leaves Aaron’s hold and goes to grab the bottle from the floor. He takes a couple of big gulps before wiping his mouth with his naked arm. “What do you say we go to Vegas? I’ll be Nicolas Cage and you can be my Elisabeth Shue. We’ll drink and fuck until I die like the scum that I am.”
“So… I’m the whore in this scenario?”
“Not really… got no money so I can’t pay you. Even gotta leave this room in the morning ‘cause I can’t pay for another night. Might as well go to Vegas.”
Dean doesn’t try and take back the bottle Aaron steals again. “How are you gonna go to Vegas if you have no money? Or even pay for booze?”
You’re losing him, Winchester… reel him back in. Now!
“Fuck you and your logic,” he spits, once more going for the bottle that’s back on the ground. This time, Aaron stop him by softly cupping him through his underwear. Their eyes lock together as Aaron tries once more to bring Dean’s limp dick to life.
“It’s no use,” Dean says as he bats the hand away. “I’m useless, I tell you. Can’t even fuck I’m so messed up.” Luckily for Dean, he can cry at the drop of a hat, so he starts sobbing again. “You’re so sexy… I should want you… I want you… it’s my dick! I’m fucking broken!”
“Maybe if you just lay off the booze it’ll—”
“Go! I can drink myself to death on my own. Don’t need you!”
This time, Aaron isn’t as gentle when he takes the bottle out of Dean’s hand. Not only does he take it, he goes to the bathroom to empty it in the drain. It’s enough for Dean to think back to his actual childhood, when he did the same thing to his dad and got the lights knock out of him for his trouble.
He knows trying to beat up Aaron would be the most believable reaction, except he needs the guy to want to help him. So instead he gets off the bed, screaming, and trips on his feet before falling face first. Then he starts crying again. As expected, sweet Aaron comes back into the room to drop to his knees next to Dean.
“You gotta do something, Dean. You can’t keep doing this to yourself.”
“I’ll—I’ll kill myself—then I won’t let you down no more… won’t let anyone down…”
“You’re only letting yourself down, babe.” Aaron grabs his face again so he can look Dean in the eye. “I know a place…”
Dean’s heart skips a beat. Yes, there we go…
“I’m not going to a damn clinic,” Dean says, because that’s what anyone would say. That’s what he would say. That’s what his dad said…
“It’s nothing like that,” Aaron promises, rubbing Dean’s cheeks with his thumbs. “It’s more like a community. A little group of people coming together to take a break from all their crap.”
“Told you I ain’t got cash.”
“Doesn’t cost a cent. It’s more like… it’s like going to crash at a friend’s house for some time. All they’ll ask in return is that you pull your weight. Kinda like those communes from the 70’s.”
“Gotta say, not much into group sex or hairy chicks.”
Aaron bursts into laughter then kisses Dean on the forehead. “Not that kind of commune… went there myself a couple of years ago, had issues to work out.”
The sudden blush on Aaron’s face makes him look even younger. “I’d rather not talk about it… it’s in the past, better to leave it alone. I can say booze was only the smallest of my problems.” Aaron kisses Dean again, this time on the lips, before getting back to his feet and pulling Dean up with him. “What do you say we just go to sleep?”
“Not tired,” Dean manages to mumble. All the booze is actually starting to mess him up and he could go for a nap. But he’s too close to be getting what he’s been working so hard for. “Tell me more about that place.”
“There’s not much to say. It’s just somewhere you can take a load off.”
Dean lets out a trembling sigh. “I could use that.”
The smile on Aaron’s face is an understanding one. “I’ll give you the address, but only if you come to bed with me.”
Dean looks down at himself, waving a hand at his crotch. “It don’t work.”
“If I were a total asshole, I’d tell you that your mouth and hands seem to be working fine, but I’m kinda beat myself.” Aaron grabs Dean by the hand to pull him toward the bed. “And who knows… maybe little Dean will be in better dispositions in the morning.”
That’s not happening , Dean brain supplies as he lets himself be lead to the bed.
They both get on it, silently debating who’d be the big spoon until Dean stops fighting it and accepts Aaron lining up against his back. He sighs, trying to ignore the man’s dick snug against his asscrack. It’s not the first time he’s found himself in that situation, but it never gets any easier.
He stays still and waits, keeping an ear on Aaron’s breathing. It doesn’t take long for it to even out and as soon as he can, Dean moves his hips forward to at least put a bit of space between them.
When Aaron doesn’t stir, Dean lets out a relieved breath. He also tries to move his upper body forward, freezing when Aaron snorts and moves back into Dean’s heat.
Son of a bitch!
It takes a bit of time for Dean to fall asleep. And when he wakes up again, he could have sworn he’d only closed his eyes a minute ago. As his brain comes back online, he notices a presence in his back. Said presence is rocking an insistent hardness against the cleft of his ass. Dean tenses up, only now remembering he’d been sleeping next to Aaron. And then he remembers the reason he’d been sleeping next to Aaron.
Aaron, who had hoped Dean’s impotency would be resolved once the alcoholic fog had lifted. What Aaron doesn’t know is that whatever he tries, little Dean won’t come to attention for him. Or any other dude for that matter. Not now, and not ever.
Which kind of explains why Dean chooses to fling himself off the bed when Aaron’s hand goes to dip below Dean’s waistband.
“Dean?” Aaron says, startled. Dean doesn’t answer, instead running to the bathroom and shutting the door close. He locks the door while jamming a couple of fingers down his throat. He just has time to kneel next to the toilet before starting to puke as loudly as he can.
The door handle soon rattles, then knuckles rap on the wood. “Dean? Unlock the door, would you? Let me in.”
“I’m ok—” Dean only gets to say before a genuine fit of nausea hits him. Being easily grossed out has to be some kind of advantage in these types of situations. So he lets it happen, emptying his stomach and groaning for a good five minutes.
Once done, he brushes his teeth, glad to see the reflection in the mirror looking utterly miserable. There’s no way Aaron will try to put his hands on him again today. All Dean needs now is for Aaron to give him Paradysum’s address and he’ll be on his way.
When he comes out of the bathroom, it’s to find Aaron has put his clothes back on.
“You’re leaving?” Deans asks, a hint of sadness in his voice. He crosses his arms over his naked chest and walks up to him. “I’m really sorry for the shitty date.”
Dean bristles when Aaron wraps a hand over his hip and leans up to kiss his jaw. “No need to be sorry, Dean. I had a nice time, really.”
Aaron chuckles softly before taking a step back. “I have to go to work, otherwise I’d rather be spending the day with you. I was serious last night, though… I think you could benefit from a change of scenery,” he says, handing Dean a folded piece of paper. Dean takes it, unfolding it to read the expected address written on it. He might have gotten what he wanted, he still has a role to play. So he huffs and rolls his eyes.
“How the fuck do you expect me to get to Vermont?”
“If you really want to go, you’ll find a way, babe,” Aaron says. He lifts a hand to Dean’s stubbled jaw, a soft smile on his face. “And maybe when you’re doing better and come back to New York, you could look me up again?”
“Yeah… all right…” Dean takes a step forward, and dips down to kiss Aaron on the lips. “Thank you, man… I mean it.”
“I know.” Aaron gives Dean a sad smile as he walks to the door. He holds onto the knob and stops before opening it, looking back at Dean. “Promise you’ll take care of yourself, okay? I got their number, I’ll be checking up on you.”
Dean only nods and waves Aaron goodbye, waiting to hear the man’s car driving away before rushing to his phone. He thumbs through it until he finds the appropriate contact.
“Bradbury,” he hears after a single ring.
“Hey, Charlie! It’s me…” he announces as he sits on the bed, leaning against the headboard with his feet up on the mattress.
“Dean! Was hoping to hear from you today. How’s everything going?”
“I’m in… I’m leaving for Vermont today.”
“Great job, Dean. I’ll let the boss know. Got all you need?”
“I do. I’ll call you again once I’m there. Over and out.”
To be continued…