Calver Ridge Chapter Two
Chapter Two
Dean paced up and down the backroom of Rangers, almost falling over Ace who was making his way in from the bar. The retriever stood and watched him, his head tilted to the right, for a moment before flopping down and lying on his side. Dean continued his pacing.
Five minutes later, Dean stopped in front of the mirror and frowned. Unsure of where he was being taken that evening, he’d dressed in worn jeans and a t-shirt. Now, he wondered if it was too casual. As he looked down, his frown deepened. He’d missed it before but he now saw that his top was stained with engine oil. He hurried upstairs to change and, by the time he got back downstairs, Sam was waiting.
“Sorry, I was ready but…” He trailed off when he saw what his date was doing.
Knelt on the floor, Sam was tickling Ace’s stomach, laughing as the retriever wriggled. Aware of his uncle watching knowingly from the door, Dean crossed the room and made to grab his wallet.
“You won’t need that.” Sam pushed himself up off the floor.
“Why? I’m not letting you pay for dinner - people will think I’m the girl.”
Sam chuckled, “We’re not going to a restaurant, Dean.”
“Where exactly are we going?”
“You’ll see.”
Karl watched as they left the room, noticed the way Sam instinctively placed a hand on Dean’s back, noticed that Dean let him, and smiled.
“I still can’t believe you have an Impala.” Dean turned in his seat to face Sam.
“It’s not actually mine, you know. It’s my Dad’s.”
“Yeah, you said. It’s the same thing though. Dude, I’d kill for a car like this. Seriously, the engine alone is- sorry.” Dean cut himself off at the amused look on Sam’s face, inwardly cursing at his own lack of social skills.
“It’s fine, man. Don’t apologize, I like listening to you talk and that, right there, is why people think I’m creepy.”
Dean laughed, long and hard. “You are kind of creepy. It’s alright though, Sammy, I think it’s cute.”
“Here we go,” Sam eased the car into a parking spot as Dean reached into the back and grabbed the beer.
“Dude, we’re doing pizza and beer on the beach for our first date.”
Sam pushed the door of the Impala shut. “Yeah. Look, Dean, if it’s too casual or-”
“Are you kidding me? It’s freaking awesome.”
“Man, I’m really going to have to introduce you to my Dad. He’d-” Sam broke off as his cheeks began to flush.
Dean rubbed the back of his neck, “Yeah, that’d be good, Sammy.”
“Really?” Sam closed his eyes briefly before turning back to the car to lock it, “I mean, it’s not too early for meeting the parents?”
Dean looked at Sam for a moment. A week ago, his answer would have been yes. A week ago, he hadn’t met Sam. “I don’t know, is it?” Without giving Sam time to answer, he turned and began to head up the beach, searching for a comfortable place for them to set up their picnic.
The sun washed over him as he walked and he closed his eyes at the feeling of the warm rays on his skin; it had been a while since he’d felt so relaxed.
Dean watched as two children played Frisbee - their dog running between them, trying to catch it. He’d never had that easy relationship with his younger brother, Mikey. Any interactions between them had been forced, fake.
“I don’t date all that often.”
Turning his head back towards Sam, Dean waited for him to continue. The declaration was a surprise, but he sensed that talking now would make Sam close up.
“It’s - I just wanted you to know that. This is all kind of new for me and you - I like you, Dean. I really like you.” Sam pulled the label off his beer bottle as he spoke, not sure whether his declaration was too much for a first date.
“I like you, too, Sammy. Look, it’s not like I’m really experienced or anything. But don’t go telling anyone I said that; I’ve got a reputation to uphold.” He knocked his knee against Sam’s and left it there. “So, are we caring and sharing, here?”
“I think so.”
Dean smirked, “Huh. Well, you don’t date and I don’t talk about my feelings so I guess we must bring out the best in each other.”
“I have dated before, just not a lot.”
“Sure you have.” Dean leaned forward and took the last slice of pizza.
“Jerk.”
“Bitch.”
Sam reached over and grabbed the pizza from Dean’s hand, taking a bite before trying to hand it back to him. Dean shook his head and took a drink from his beer instead.
“I’ve never dated a guy before.” Dean picked up a handful of the warm sand and watched as the grains fell back to the ground, steadfastly refusing to look at Sam.
“What?”
“We’re swapping secrets and braiding our hair here, right?”
“Well, I wouldn’t-”
“My family don’t know that I’m gay. Well, my uncle does but he doesn’t count because he’s cool. I mean, you met my Mom, right? Anyway, I’m just trying to say that you’re probably more used to this kind of thing than I am. I’ve dated girls for show but not - never a guy.” Dean cleared his throat, he wasn’t used to making confessions like this.
Sam stayed quiet for a moment, knowing that what he said next was important. “Well, I promise to be gentle with you.”
Dean laughed and moved closer to Sam, “You better be joking.”
He turned to look at the children and dog that Dean had been watching before, “Next time, we should bring Ace.”
“Yeah,” Dean smiled, “Yeah, we should.”
They walked along the beach for a while, occasionally stopping to skip stones. All around them, people were beginning to leave but neither of them wanted the date to end. Barefoot, Dean carried his sneakers in one hand; his other hand had been claimed by Sam’s sometime during the walk and he wasn’t going to be the first to pull away. Someone had lit a fire at the other end of the beach and Dean wished that the heat from the flames could reach him and Sam.
Next to him, Sam stopped and turned to look out at the sea, lifting his arm and pulling Dean in beside him as he did so. He couldn’t believe how easy it was to be around Dean; there was none of the awkwardness that usually featured in his first dates.
Dean laughed, “I feel like John Travolta.”
“Does that make me Sandy?”
Dean’s laughter grew louder and Sam grinned then frowned when Dean shivered.
“You’re freezing.”
“It doesn’t matter, I’m enjoying myself.” Dean looked down at their hands, which were still linked together, and smiled.
“I know. But I don’t want you to get hypothermia on our first date. That’s a third date thing, at least.” Sam pulled away from Dean for a moment, shrugged out of his leather jacket and held it out for his date.
“No, Sam. C’mon, I’m not a girl.”
“I wouldn’t be here if you were a girl, dummy. Just put it on, okay? You’re cold.” He smiled as Dean shook his head and added, “For me.”
Dean sighed, “This is so cliché.” He pulled the jacket on and fought back a smile as warmth enveloped him. “Hey, can I drive your car?”
“My Dad’s car,” Sam corrected him automatically, then grinned. “Is that so you can assert your masculinity?”
“No, it’s so that I can drive a classic car.”
“Yeah, okay. But, don’t ever tell my Dad that I let you drive it-”
“Her. She’s a ‘her’.”
“Because he’d kill me and never let me borrow it - her - again.”
Dean nodded, “I won’t tell him.”
“C’mon then, the keys are in my jacket.” He wrapped his arm around Dean’s waist as they walked back along towards the Impala. They passed the fire on the way back up to the car and Sam smiled as the reflection of the amber glow flickered on Dean’s face. Ashes flew past them into the darkness and he wrinkled his nose at the smell that reminded him all too much of burning bones.
Dean pulled up alongside the curb, turned the keys in the ignition and sat back in his seat, a huge grin on his face. They’d driven around for hours; Dean listening to the sound of the engine, Sam watching him with an indulgent smile.
“I’m never going to pry you away from her, am I?” Sam wouldn’t mind that if the look on Dean’s face stayed there forever.
“No,” Dean laughed then turned to look up at his house. “I guess I should go in.”
As they watched, a light came on over the porch and Karl exited the house, stopping to talk to a man that Sam assumed was Dean’s father.
“Yeah, I guess.” Sam watched Dean’s face darken. “Hey, are you okay?”
Dean moved back around in his seat and visibly relaxed, “I’m good. Thanks. For tonight. I had fun.”
“Me too. Do you want to do something tomorrow?” He ducked his head, unsure whether he was being too eager but not wanting to let the chance slip away.
“That’d be good, Sammy. Just, I don’t know, text me or something.” Dean pushed the car door open and handed the keys back over. “Thanks for letting me drive her.”
“Any time,” He leaned over and pressed his lips to the corner of Dean’s mouth, “See you tomorrow, Dean.”
“Yeah.” Taken aback, Dean couldn’t say anything else.
He waited until Dean had reached his front door before climbing behind the wheel and driving away.
Dean stopped as he reached the porch; his father had already gone back inside but Karl was leaning against the fence, waiting for him. Grinning, Dean went and stood next to him.
“I take it you had a good time then, son?” Karl pulled at the jacket.
“Damn, I forgot I was wearing this.” Dean couldn’t find it in himself to regret not giving the jacket back; it was warm and it was Sam’s and, as long as he kept it on, it was as if the date still wasn’t over.
They stood in a comfortable silence for a few minutes, Karl watching Dean smile to himself. It had been a while since he’d seen his nephew look so happy, so relaxed.
Dean ran a finger over one of the wind chimes, bit his lip and pulled away when the cold metal got too much. “Sammy, he’s- he’s different. He’s cool, you know.”
“You sure you’re not just dating him for his car?” Karl chuckled at his own joke.
“Hey, she’s a cool car.”
“It is. 69 Impala, right?”
Dean shook his head, “67. I’ve seen one before, I think,” he frowned, “Did we know anyone who had one?”
“Not that I remember, son,” he stood up straight, patted Dean on the knee, “I’d better be off. See you tomorrow.”
“You too.” He watched his uncle walk down the path and then turned to look back up at the house, sighing. Shaking his head, he pushed himself up to sit on the wall and pulled Sam’s jacket a little tighter; the leather felt warm and comfortable, had plenty of give in it; just like Sam himself. Dean wasn’t ready for the night to end. Wasn’t ready to go inside and face his family.
For as long as Dean could remember, his parents had insisted on eating breakfast as a family, no matter how inconvenient it was to fit it in around school and work. Sleeping late had never been an option so, from the age of 16, he had ran for 3 miles every morning before eating. He’d never missed running unless he was ill - until now.
Last night, he’d stayed out on the porch for hours and it had been getting light when he had finally gone inside to bed and climbed under the covers. He’d slept in and had been woken up by his mother pounding on the door to tell him that breakfast was ready. As he tucked into a fruit salad his brother dragged himself into the room, rubbing his eyes.
“Good night last night, Mikey?”
Mikey scowled back at him and Dean hung his head. It had been a long time since Mikey had done anything other than scowl at him.
“You were out late as well, Dean. Where were you?” His mother looked at him over her cornflakes. She was already dressed for work, her linen trouser suit freshly ironed.
“I was just out with a friend, not out drinking like he was.”
“He’s young, he can get away with it. You’re 26, Dean. You should be past that now.”
Dean chose to stay silent.
“What friend were you with?” His father lowered the newspaper that he was reading.
“You don’t know him.” Dean lowered his eyes.
“What’s his name?”
“Sam Winchester, he’s over on a trip from Stanford.”
His Mom made a choking sound and dropped her spoon back into the bowl as she coughed. Dean thought he’d been left to eat in peace. He was never that lucky.
“We don’t want you to see him again. You should be concentrating on your jobs and your family, not going off with every college student that comes into town.”
Dean carefully placed his fork back on his plate and looked up, “I can see whoever I want to see, I’m not a kid.”
“Don’t talk to your mother like that, Dean. And you’ll not see that boy again, that’s final.”
“Fine.” He pushed his chair back from the table, savored the way his mother winced as it scraped across the floor, and stalked out of the room.
Mrs Holden’s shop had been one of Dean’s favourite places in Calver Ridge ever since she’d let him have a go on the till at the age of eight. Even now, when he was in his twenties, she always pressed something - a candy bar, a bag of Hershey’s Kisses - into his hand as he left and she still wouldn’t accept any money for them.
The door chimed as he pushed it open and he walked into the shop. Mrs Holden was about to climb some steps in order to stack some cans on the top shelf. Without giving her time to protest, he took the items from her and did the job himself.
“Thank you, Dean. I’m getting a bit old for climbing now.”
He shook his head as he climbed back down the steps, “You’re not old, Mrs Holden. Can I grab some gum, please?”
“Sure you can, honey. No charge. Is everything okay?”
“Yeah. No. Well, mostly. Just Mom and Dad.”
She pursed her lips, “What have they done to you this time?”
“They’re - it doesn’t matter. They’re not worth it. I’m not going to listen to them, anyway. Is there anything else you need doing?”
“I don’t think - oh, yes. Do you mind having a quick look at the window out back? I think the latch must be broken.”
He nodded, “No problem. I’m meeting for someone for lunch in a while but I’ll come back later, okay?”
“Tomorrow will do, there’s no rush.”
“I’ll see you then.” He was half way out of the door when she grabbed his hand and pushed a few dollars into it.
Calver Ridge was a town that Dean knew well; he’d lived in the same house from the age of five when his parents had decided to move back to their hometown. Because of this, he’d told Sam where the best place to have lunch was. Sam looked around at his surroundings; the place was quiet and overlooked the beach where they’d had their first date. The other customers were dressed casually, and even the staff wore bright shorts and flip-flops. He hadn’t sampled the food yet but he was almost certain that Dean’s high opinion of the place was justified.
One of the waiters called out a greeting and Sam turned to see Dean climbing up the steps from the beach. As he watched, Dean clapped the waiter on the shoulder and pointed in Sam’s direction. The guy nodded and hurried away as Dean walked over to the table, t-shirt slung over his shoulder.
“Hey.” Sam’s eyes were drawn to Dean’s well toned chest.
Blushing, Dean pulled his t-shirt on over his head and sat down, “Sorry I’m late, went for a swim.”
“How was the water?”
“Cold. Your friends okay with you ditching them again?”
He nodded, “They were still asleep when I left.”
The waiter that Dean had been talking to arrived at their table, his long hair swept back into a rough ponytail. He took their orders and ruffled Dean’s hair before walking away, laughing at Dean’s protests.
“Friend of yours?”
“Yeah,” Dean grinned, “That’s Tommo - one of my cousins.”
“Karl’s son?”
“His eldest. Tommo, he’s cool, y’know. More like a brother than Mikey.”
The man in question was already back at the table, setting down their drinks. “A beer for you and,” Tommo looked at Dean, “A girly coffee for you, Deanna.”
“Hey, double-vanilla latte isn’t girly. ‘Sides, you can’t talk. Look at your hair. This is Sam, Sam - Tommo.”
Sam shook the offered hand, “I’m with Tommo, your coffee is girly.”
“Hey, the second date’s way too early to be questioning my masculinity!”
“Sorry. I’ll pay for the girly coffee to make it up to you.” He hooked his foot around Dean’s ankle, smiling.
“You’d better. Samantha.” Dean took a sip of his coffee and looked out towards the sea, smirk turning into a frown.
“Is everything okay?” He tugged on Dean’s foot slightly.
Looking down at his hands, Dean shook his head. “My parents, they, um, told me not to see you anymore.”
“You told them?”
“No!” Wide-eyed, Dean pulled his foot away, “I just mentioned that I’d been out with a friend. I just, my parents are so … you know.”
“Right. You know, it wouldn’t be problem for me if you did tell them. I mean, my friends and my Dad all know that I’m gay. Your parents are pretty intense, huh?” He reached across the table and gently unclenched Dean’s fist.
“You could say that. They…expect a lot of me, you know. I mean, last night my brother was out drinking and probably being totally reckless and yet it’s me that they complain at. I just…don’t fit in with them.”
Sam ran his thumb across Dean’s hand, “Well, I know all about not fitting in. Try not to let it get to you, you know. You should be proud of who you are.”
Dean snorted, “Yeah, right.” He cleared his throat and then looked down at the menu, “I think I’m going for the burger with the goats cheese. How about you?”
“Salad, I think. Dean-”
“Don’t. This is our second date, okay. I don’t want to spoil it. Please.”
“Okay.” He squeezed Dean’s hand and then let go to pick up his beer.
“What are your parents like?”
“Well, I already told you some stuff about my Dad - he likes your music, classic cars. He’s an ex-marine and he’s - he’s a good man.” Sam smiled, “He’s coming to meet up with me soon, actually, so you’ll get to meet him.”
“That’d be good. What about your Mom? You’ve not mentioned her.”
“Yeah. She died. When I was still a baby, I don’t really remember her.”
“Damn. Sam, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have-”
“You didn’t know. It’s fine. Really.” He took hold of Dean’s hand again and felt him relax slightly. “Do you want to go for another drive after we’ve eaten?”
“That’d be good.” Dean looked up as Tommo reappeared and began to bicker good-naturedly with his cousin again.
Sam watched the exchange; he was glad that Dean still had some family who treated him right. Maybe he would have been like that with his own brother, bickering and playful but fiercely protected and loved. As Tommo walked away, Dean turned back and laughed, looking the happiest Sam had seen him that day. Sam was determined to keep him that way.
Chapter Three