The Emporium 01: Look What The Wind Blew In
01: Look What The Wind Blew In
The Emporium was a respectable place. Sure, it was a sex shop that catered for all tastes, but it had a reputation as discreet, friendly and able to get hold of most things at a short notice. Things that may not always be on quite the right side of the law and came in shiny foil wrapped packages. It was family run, mostly. Ellen Harvelle had opened it several years back, after she had enough of running a bar and it had burnt down anyway. Built in its place was The Emporium. At first, Dean had frowned on the idea of working in a sex shop. Sure, he was all for trying something new but he had no desire to delve into the sex lives of others. But a job was a job. The mother figure in his life had offered him a well paid, secure job with co-workers he knew and got along with. If Ellen was the mother figure, then Jo was definitely a sister figure if such things existed. And the money was putting Sam through college, so he wasn't going to complain. Dean leant against the counter, counting back the hours till he could shut the shop. It was a slow day, only a few giggling teenagers so far. He was sorely tempted to ask them to leave if they were just going to point and laugh. Honestly, he really didn't get what was so funny about sex toys.
The door jingled, signalling the arrival of a customer. Dean glanced up and recognised the guy. One of their regulars. Gruff exterior, baseball cap on his head, looked a bit like a tubby lumberjack. Never very polite but always meant well. That summed up Bobby more or less. At first Dean had him down as one of their 'special' customers for whom you had to order in carefully wrapped and concealed foreign videos. But turned out, he couldn't have been more wrong. Bobby was actually quite a vanilla guy. Nothing too hard core, maybe a couple of hot girls kissing and the guy was happy. Dean smiled as he reached under the counter for one of the packs they put aside, ready for their regulars to collect. Bobby paid for the things and a couple of grumbled pleasantries later he was out the door and Dean was left alone again.
Working in a sex shop, Dean would have thought that he would never get bored. Endless supply of porn and what not. But, turned out even that could get boring. Within the first two weeks of working there, Dean had felt he had seen his life's fair share of porn. The toys weren't that exciting to look at either. Of course, he had a couple of toys himself, but nothing beyond a vibrator and anal beads. After a while they all just looked like giant colourful plastic penises. Only a few of them could still make him squirm uncomfortably. One in particular always made him queasy. The Probe as he called it, with capitals. Why would any sane man want to push something down his own dick? And then make it vibrate? Another of their regulars, a crazy bitch he really didn't like had already bought one of these. Dean felt sorry for the poor fucker she was going to stick it in. He didn't know why, but he despised Ruby. She always had a look in her eye, like a sex crazed fiend. He swore she was a sex addict. Or a prostitute. If you were to run into her on the street, you'd never have been able to tell. She was slim, had dark hair and dark eyes with pale skin, probably attended college too judging by her age. But she visited The Emporium at an alarming rate and spent money on the most extreme of their stock with an even worse regularity. Dean really well and truly pitied her partner.
The door opened again, blowing a cool gust of wind in to the normally stuffy shop. Dean grinned at his little brother approaching him.
“Hey Sammy.”
“Dean.” Sam loomed over him. Dean had never felt short next to anyone until his Sammy had shot right past him at the tender age of 16. Now he towered over everyone and though he was built like a brick wall, he still managed to look like an apologetic puppy about it.
“How's college?”
“Dude, you saw me this morning, stop acting like I've been away for four years!” Sam groused.
“Sure, sorry. It's just been so dead in here today. I feel like I haven't seen anyone for forty years. It's like hell.” Dean grinned. “Not even porn has its allure any more. You want some?”
Sam gave him a withering look. “Even if I had wanted something, I'd rather not ask for it from you.”
Dean's grin widened.
“Hey, check this out.” he thrust the box of The Probe into his brother's hands. “Crazy, right?” he asked after a prolonged silence.
“Yeah.” Sam just frowned.
“I mean, who in their right mind would want to do something like that?”
“Don't know.”
“It's just sick. I can't imagine how it would turn anyone on!” Dean was getting frustrated by the lack of reaction from Sam.
“Some people might enjoy it Dean. Not everyone is as backward and as much of a prune as you.” Sam looked as his brother, eyes wide. Dean frowned.
“You mean, you'd...” Dean trailed off, gesturing at the box to finish off his horrified question.
“What? NO! I'd never do it to myself.” Sam's voice rose and a deep blush spread across his cheeks. Dean cocked an eyebrow, he could always tell when Sam wasn't entirely honest. Before he could push the issue further, the door opened. Sam took this opportunity to shove the box back at Dean and rush out of the shop. Dean sighed and reached under the counter.
“The usual, Sir?” he asked, looking at the man opposite him. Zachariah was probably the second biggest surprise. He looked like a clean cut, well cared for, ageing high flier. The middle management type. Self important, arrogant and looked down on everybody. The kind Dean never imagined to ever have a sex life. Didn't want to think of him having a sex life. Some people just shouldn't reproduce.
“Yes. Ellen also said you have new stock coming in, show me, would you?” Zach (as Dean called him in his head) said. Moving from behind the counter, Dean rolled his eyes when Zach couldn't see and went to the shelves. He pointed out the various items on the shelves and quickly explained what was different about them. The less time he spent with this pervert, the better for him. Zach pointed at a few things, making him get boxes that he actually had no desire of buying really. This had happened before and Dean had mentioned it to Ellen who had agreed to try and serve Zach to spare Dean. As it was, Ellen and Jo were out for the day, on a business trip to sort out a new supplier so Dean was stuck. He had to get boxes first from the top shelf, his shirt riding up to expose a sliver of toned and tanned flesh. Then he had to get boxes for the lazy bastard from the bottom shelf, putting his butt up for full view and (much unwanted) appreciation. As he predicted, Zach didn't buy anything other than his usual stack of imported, hard core to the point of making you sick pornos.
As he left, Dean let out a sigh. Normally, he enjoyed the attention from certain customers. But they were younger, less perverted and treated him better than a slab of meat to look at. But such was life, that as of yet, no such man had stuck around long enough for Dean to acquaint himself properly. Anyway, Ellen had a strict policy on dating customers. Or rather, not dating customers. He sighed again and pushed himself away from the counter to start tidying up. Although he still had half an hour to stay open, his past experiences made it seem like a futile effort to keep open. He went about, shutting off various DVDs with advertisement playing and generally making sure things were in order for tomorrow when he had to open up again. Wandering back up towards the till, his head snapped up to look at the door when the bell rang.
A scruffy looking man stumbled in. His tan trench coat was billowing around his ankles, giving the impression of a cool businessman from afar. Yet, as Dean scrutinised the new arrival, he quickly realised that he was perhaps not quite reaching his first impression's expectations. The man was wearing a cheap suit, a tie that was loose around his neck, his cheeks were flushed red from either the chilly wind whipping up outside or embarrassment - it was hard to tell. He seemed to almost tumble over his own feet before he glanced up. What Dean had thought to be a head of dark messy hair turned out to be more than just a mess. It looked like it hadn't seen a hair brush in at least a week, had perhaps been hurriedly finger combed throughout the day from stress and deep thought but otherwise left to its own devices to stick up at what ever angle the separate strands preferred. Below the chaotic mayhem were two startlingly cobalt blue eyes radiating a mix of daring and shame. Dean gave a cheery, typical sales assistant smile when their eyes met. The man hastily snatched his gaze away and cast furtive looks around the store as he strode towards the counter.
Dean hid a smile as the guy approached. This guy was a jumble of oxymorons. He strode as though he knew what he wanted but looked around like it was his first time in such an establishment. His eyes skittered around the various products, never looking at anything for too long and his cheeks flushed scarlet at the more explicit items. Yet he also radiated an air of quiet confidence, daring anyone to challenge him to his right to be there. They faced each other on opposing sides of the small table. Dean grinned again.
“Can I help you?” he drawled. The scruffy man looked bewildered for a second, at a loss to respond.
“I would like...” he began, his voice rich and deep enough to once more contradict his appearance which would have indicated a lighter tone, “if you have something to...uh...” he seemed to be lost for words as he gestured a vague motion of jerking off. He seemed to pull himself together with a breath. “I was wondering whether you have anything to make things go smoother.” he finally blurted out. His cheeks were flaming red but his eyes didn't leave Dean's for a moment.
“You mean like lube?” Dean asked, friendly smile still in place. The guy gave a tight nod. “Sure, then, the section just behind you on the left.” The man gave another small nod of possibly thanks before he turned. As self assured as he tried to be, Dean just about caught his face fall when confronted with the selection of lubricants on display. The man frowned, a small line appearing on his brow. He scanned one shelf then his eyes went wide and his eyebrows shot up. Dean tried to hold back a small chuckle. This guy seemed so out of his depth despite his best efforts, it was almost comical. He looked possibly about mid thirties, no ring on his finger and he looked too dishevelled to not be living on his own. Possibly just out of a relationship judging by the pale white ring of skin on his fourth finger. Or maybe the ring is just off for the week away on 'business'. Dean sighed. It is probably the latter. The guys in suits who came in here were often of the well off kind with a blonde wife, 2.5 kids, dog and picket fence waiting for them at home while they had a swift dalliance with a feisty girl who is barely legal.
With a frown, Dean turned away. He was sick of seeing how some people just took for granted what they had and fettered it away like it meant nothing. His inner chick-flick sensor set off blaring alarms and he shut that thought down immediately. Leaning on the counter, he forced himself to make a semi-friendly smile as he called to the guy.
“Need a little help?”
The man jumped a little and looked over at him sheepishly. While he didn't say anything, Dean wandered over anyway. As he stood by the rack of lubes, he cast a sideways glance at his customer. He looked jittery now, eyes wide as he frantically looked at all the bottles. Dean found it hard not to take pity on such pure panic.
“So, it really depends on what you want it for.” Dean began and pointed at a light blue bottle. “That one is water based and not sticky, with added spermicide. The bright bottles are the flavoured ones, red is strawberry, pink is raspberry, yellow is pineapple and green is apple.”
“Why would I want to eat it?” the guy cut in looking genuinely puzzled. Dean let out a small huff of laugh. This guy was either stitching him up or really was as clueless as a giggling teenager.
“If you want to slick things up with your tongue and hands.” Dean said. The guy blushed again and looked away only to wrench his gaze from the rack of magazines. He stared at his shoes for a few moments before looking back up at the bottles in front of him. Dean just carried on.
“They really pretty much do the same function, anything extra they tend to put in big letters on the front. Like that one is meant to give an extra tingle for the ladies.”
“Which would you recommend?” Dean was taken back by the question and he floundered for an answer.
“Um...it depends on the occasion I guess.” he ventured eventually.
“Oh.” an awkward silence followed as Dean processed the question again. Oh. Now he thought he understood the question. One guy asking another what lube to use? Either gay or lonely.
“I suppose the most basic one would do the trick. The clear bottle, also our cheapest. But maybe your lady...” he looked at the man whose face had once more taken up a frown, “...or gentleman friend...” the frown deepened even more, “...might appreciate the gesture of something a little bit more, I don't know, different?” he finished lamely. The man reached for the smallest of the bottles available before fixing Dean with a glare.
“There will be no lady.” he looked at the lotion he was now holding. “or gentleman”. Dean nodded with his lips pressed together, not sure what to say. He went back to the counter to sort out the transaction. Both of them were silent throughout. The guy put the lube in one of his pockets along with his change. Dean nodded at him, not entirely sure whether “have fun” was an appropriate way to see the man - who had just pretty much admitted to going home to masturbate - out. The door shut behind the scruffy man with a jangle of bells. With a final sigh of confusion, Dean set about closing up the shop properly and forgetting about his final customer of the day.
02: Voices In The Back Of Your Mind
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