The Future of Things to Come 3 B FRAO Dean/John, John/OMC
The house they were driven to was not as large as the one Dean owned, but it was more to John's liking, if just for the long winding driveway and wide expanse of lush green lawn. He could see a small pond was in the center of a brick turn-out at the end of the driveway as Kyle pulled the car up. Kyle got out, opening the door for Dean, and John waited in the car until Dean came around and opened the door for him.
They were greeted at the door by a small middle-aged woman dressed in a uniform remarkably similar to the one that Caroline wore. She ushered them into the den where a tight knot of people were gathered around a bar. John surveyed them taking in three elderly men that were old enough to be his father. With two of the men were middle-aged women and the third woman who was probably no older than Dean. She was leaning on the arm of, probably, the oldest man of the three. Her bright red dress and over done make-up was an odd contrast to his somber charcoal gray suit and grim expression. Her laughter was just a little too bright and brittle sounding and John cast an annoyed glance at her. She noticed his look, and frowned, pulling a little away from the old man.
The three men greeted Dean warmly then smiled and shook hands with John just as if he had always been a part of their group. If anyone of them objected to the fact that, for all intents and purposes Dean and John were gay, they didn't give voice to it. In fact, the men tended to treat John as if he was Dean's wife. And it irritated him when he realized they were talking down to him as well as the three women.
The older man, John learned, was Judge Harold Watterson, Superior Court Judge for Essex County. John remembered driving through Essex County years ago and finally pin- pointed their location as upstate New York. He wondered how Dean had settled on New York, and then remembered that Winchester Inc. was actually head-quartered in New York City, and that it owned two large casinos in Atlantic City. Still Las Vegas to New York was a big jump. John began to think that things had not gone well in Vegas after the fire.
It turned out that the blond bimbo was Judge Watterson's twenty-nine year old wife, Terri. John smiled coldly as she took his hand flashing him a tight, grim smile. He couldn't quite keep the irrational irritation he felt for her out of his expression. The other people were Jack Carter and his wife, Lydia, and Pete Harrison and his fiancée, Marla Burke. John cocked his head.
"Ms. Burke, have we met before? You seem familiar."
She looked pleased and he felt that he had done something right.
"Maybe you've seen me on TV?"
John didn't watch TV, but he smiled.
"Of course, on…"
"The District Attorney," she jumped in before he could make an idiot of himself by not knowing the name of the show she was on. He nodded even though he had never even heard of it.
Dean patted his arm.
"John, honey…I think we're ready to go out to the veranda for lunch."
John offered his arm to the woman; she giggled and tucked her hand in his elbow. Dean followed them out. Just as they got to the hall Terri Watterson corralled John and shooed Marla Burke on, Dean stepping up to take her hand. Terri rounded on John frowning and hissed at him.
"I don't know who the hell you think you are, but I don't appreciate the attitude, John. You've got some nerve for a forty year old man who lives off his younger boyfriend to look at me like I'm some kind of a whore. You can look down your nose at me all you want but don't forget you've gotten everything you have the same way I have…on your back."
John watched her flounce out of the room, shaking his head.
"Well, way to go John," he muttered to himself, "You're really making friends here."
Dean frowned at him when John and Terri finally got to the door. Terri slipped past Dean and he noticed she was red faced and scowling. Dean cornered John at the door forcing him back into the den while the others lined up at the buffet table. Judge Watterson was frowning in John and Dean's direction, and watching intently.
"What did you do to Terri? She looked upset," Dean snarled. "These people, especially Judge Watterson, are very important to me. You need to fall in line here John for the good of the company."
"I didn't do anything to her. She thought I was looking down on her for being married to a much older man and took it upon herself to remind me that I'm no better. I didn't even say anything. I don't even want to be here. These people are not my kind…"
Dean grabbed John's arm squeezing it until the older man cringed in pain.
"Well, they're my kind and you'd better get used to it. There's a big charity art sale coming up to benefit a local children's shelter and Terri and you are going to be organizing it."
"Dean, I don't know shit about art, or running some benefit. Just leave me out of it."
Dean whirled slapping John hard enough to split his lip. With a growl Dean quickly fished a handkerchief out of his pocket, and threw it to his father.
"Watch your mouth, these people don't talk like that. Clean yourself up and get your ass out there."
John leaned against the wall watching as Dean walked easily out the door, dismissing him as if he didn't even exist. He pressed the cloth to his lip until the bleeding stopped but he could feel the tender flesh and knew the bruising would be obvious. The Watterson's housekeeper appeared beside him with a plastic bag of ice wrapped in a white bar towel.
She held it up to him.
"Here put this on it. It should help take down the swelling."
John was barely able to keep from cringing at the look of pity she gave him. He flushed, angry and embarrassed. Taking the ice he slipped out onto the veranda trying to stay out of sight. Terri Watterson had an evil gleam in her eyes when she came back to the door, and John knew she had seen Dean slap him. At that moment he had never hated Dean more.
Pete Harrison slid his arm around John's waist propelling him toward the bar.
"Come on, John; let's get you a little something to loosen up that stiff spine of yours."
Harrison was more than loose himself in the few minutes they had been outside, and John figured he had already had a good headstart on getting drunk long before he and Dean arrived. He smiled at the other man and didn't shrug off his arm, even when Dean looked pointedly at them. Harrison stepped up to the bar.
"Bourbon and cola," he said to the bartender then glanced at John.
John looked around quickly to see what the others were drinking. Most of the men had glasses of whisky or bourbon but the women were drinking Margaritas. With a smile he glanced at the other man from under his eyelashes.
"I'll have a peach Margarita."
Harrison blinked then slid his hand from John's waist to his hip.
"Whatever you want, honey."
Dean cornered his father in the hallway on the way to the bathroom. His face was a dark mask of rage. With a grunt he grabbed John shoving him against the wall. John refused to flinch even though Dean was hurting him.
"What the hell do you think you're doing? Act normal."
John sneered.
"I am acting normal. Just like the rest of the wives and girlfriends."
Dean stepped back as if suddenly becoming aware of the fact that they were in somebody else's home.
"You're not my wife or my girlfriend. I want you to act like John Winchester."
"Well, I can't because John Winchester wouldn't roll over and let his little boy fuck him up the ass."
"I'm not your little boy anymore, Daddy. Don't ever forget that."
John closed his eyes drawing in a ragged breath.
"I used to think that, Dean. But sometimes I can almost see him in there, lurking, just under the surface. I have to believe that something of Dean still is in you. It's all I've got."
Dean blinked rocking back and John could see the confusion on his face. Then suddenly the demon smiled, eyes flashing with a cold gleam.
"Oh poor Johnny, still in love with the past. I want to fuck my father not some witless bimbo."
"Well you’re not going to get it, not again. If you don't like me this way either let me go or kill me. But John Winchester doesn't roll over that easy, not any more."
"You will, Johnny. Play your game for now. I'll fuck you as the stupid whore that you're playing. I still get what I want one way or another."
TBC