I own none of the characters used, all belong to WWE
Holiday season's over, now's the time to welcome the new year. For Dean Ambrose however, it was just like any other year.
He never joined in the festivities in celebrating the beginning of the new year. He was content not watching a giant, ready to explode disco ball slowly descend on a pole. He usually went to bed early, having to get up early for work the next day anyway.
His closest friend's Summer Rae and Dolph Ziggler invited him to their house to celebrate New Year's, but he declined. He already celebrated Christmas with them, he didn't want to infringe on them more. They were such good friends; he didn't want to risk losing them by hanging out with them too much, or making them feel like they have to invite him for every major holiday.
It was now December thirty-first, today was the last day of the current year. Work flowed normally, people either needing a tire fixed on their car or coming in for the state inspection.
As he was fixing a car's engine, he heard footsteps approach him. He looked up to see his boss, whom everyone calls Ryback since no one knows his real name, reach him.
"You doing okay Dean?" he asked, squatting next to him.
"Yeah, why?"
"Just making sure. Some of the staff thinks you seem a little off."
Dean turned to his boss, frowning, "I didn't mean to worry them. It's just…New Year's…it's not really my thing."
"It's alright, it's not everyone's cup of tea. Anyway, I came by to inform you that we're closing tomorrow."
Dean stayed quiet for a moment, digesting the information, "So no work?"
"Everyone's off. I figured most of them will be too drunk to come in so this gives them a day to rest and be fresh the following day. I learned that the hard way, having at least three people call out the following day due to a hangover or something."
Dean chuckled, "Yeah, some of us tend to party hard."
"So yeah, no work tomorrow, but come in the following day normal time, or a little earlier if you want some donuts and coffee. I'll bring some as a treat to start the new year."
"Enticing us with free food on the first work day of the new year?" Dean grinned.
"Have to sweeten the pot somehow." Ryback smirked. "Any plans for New Year's?"
"Nah. Got nothing planned. You?"
"Not too sure. Was thinking about going to a bar, but don't want to deal with the crowd."
"I wouldn't. They're always a mess. You're better off staying home and getting drunk in the safety of your own house."
Ryback chuckled at that. "Anyway, I'll let you get back to work. Need me, call me."
Dean nodded and continued working.
Around lunchtime, he wondered over to a small section of the building Ryback had built for breaks and work parties for his break. Ryback usually closes the store temporarily so the employees can have their breaks in peace. Not sure if it's allowed, but everyone loves the rule.
Brown bag in hand, he sat at one of the small tables and pulled out his sandwich and bottle of water. He never packed a lot, he was never really hungry. A sandwich and a bottle of water usually kept him good for hours.
He then suddenly heard a trombone noise. He groaned, damn Xavier. He played the fucking thing whenever he could.
He came dancing in the room, Kofi Kingston and Big E, someone else with an unknown name, dancing behind him.
"It's not midnight yet." Dean called with a chuckle.
"No shame in celebrating early man!" Kofi laughed.
They danced over to where he was sitting and plopped down across from him, their own bags in hand. So much for sitting alone.
"What you got planned for tonight Deano?" Xavier started.
"Nothing." Dean shrugged, biting into his sandwich.
"Nothing?!" the three exclaimed, shocked.
"Nothing." Dean repeated. "Never really celebrated it."
"Not your thing?"
Dean shook his head.
"It's cool man. No worries. We're just going to stay in our apartment, invite a few friends and family and watch the ball drop."
"Sounds nice."
"You can come join us, the more the merrier." Big E offered.
"I'll think about it." Dean replied, thinking a 'no' would prompt them to ask more.
"What's this about a party?"
All turned to see Paige heading for their table. Even though she's the only girl employee, people don't treat her any different. Some customer's do unfortunately, but Ryback's always called and helps her deal with them.
"Just us three planning something." Big E replied as she sat down next to Dean. "You're more than welcome to join in."
"I would, but I got a party of my own to participate in." she giggled. She turned to Dean, "You're not in the party plans?"
"It's…complicated on my end." he shrugged.
The five transition to small topics during their break before it ends and they return to work. Dean ponders more about New Year's . Why does everyone make a big deal out of it? Nothing really changes other than the number.
Five o'clock rolls around and everyone starts clocking out. He waves goodbye before heading out. Thank goodness work's walking distance from his house, he prefers that over driving.
On his way, he passes Heyman's Gym, where his neighbor, Brock Lesnar, is leaving as well.
Brock looks like a pretty intimidating guy. The guy is ripped, really ripped. Dean sometimes jokes that Brock's muscles have muscles with how big they are. But even with the intimidating aura, Brock's been nothing but nice to him since he moved to the community a while back. They clicked day one. Since then, when they both get done work, they walk home together.
"Done for the day?" he asks.
"Yup." Brock grins. "Going to be hectic for a while."
"Why?"
"Most people's New Year Resolutions relates to weight, so gyms get pack for the first few weeks."
Dean made a face. "That stinks."
"Yeah. Just hope this year people are nice to us for once. We're trying to help them make that wish a reality. Think they know everything."
"Hate people that do that."
"Got those today?"
"Not me, but someone else. People, I swear."
"I've heard retail makes you hate people, but any job could do it too."
"True that."
They laughed and made small talk as they approached their neighborhood.
"Hey…any plans for New Year's?" Brock asks, almost hesitantly.
"Why does everyone ask me that?" Dean replies, growing irritated at the question.
"People treat it as a big deal." Brock says, letting the irritation from the other man roll off his shoulders. Dean's outbursts never really bother him. The man's always direct when something angers or upsets him. Brock admires that.
Dean sighs, trying to calm down a little. Last thing he wants is to anger a beast. "Nothing. I plan to do what I do every night: have dinner, watch some television and go to bed around tenish."
"Well…mind having some company tonight?"
Dean looks at him, studies him. He seems…nervous? He's never seen Brock like this before.
"I mean, there's a game on tonight." Brock continues.
"…Oh yeah. Think the Flyers play."
"I know they're your favorite hockey team. And I'll supply the beer."
Dean smiles. It's easy saying no when people are inviting you somewhere you don't want to go, but he can't say no to a close friend wanting to come out and hang out. To be honest, he didn't want to be alone. And they wouldn't be watching the ball or anything, just the game. Maybe he wouldn't bring up the ball dropping.
"Sure, yeah. Sounds like a plan."
Brock smiles, "Great. I'll come about thirty minutes before the game. When is it? Eight?"
"Yeah."
"Gives us time to switch from work mode to home mode."
Dean laughs. "See you soon man. And bring the good beer!"
Brock laughs, "Will do you little shit!"
Seven-thirty rolled around quicker than Dean expected. During the two and a half hour span, he changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants and had Chinese for dinner. He couldn't help but grin widely when he heard those familiar knocks
"Delivery!" Brock shouted with glee.
Dean laughed as he opened the door. "Thank you sir, how much?"
"On the house."
Dean moved aside to let the other man in. "Game's going to start soon, already got the channel up."
Brock plopped down on the couch, placing the case of beer on the floor by his feet. "Who are they playing?"
"Saint Louis Blues I believe." Dean replied, bringing a bowl of chips and plopped on the couch next to Brock.
"They got this."
"You never know. Always a surprise in these things."
"True that." Brock grabbed a bottle and handed it to Dean.
The two enjoyed watching the game, getting excited when the Flyers scored and getting upset with an unfair call. There were a few moments when their hands lightly brushed one another when both were trying to get some chips. Both would stare for a brief moment before looking away so the other wouldn't see the blush.
About halftime, Dean stood to refill the bowl while Brock retreated to the restroom.
"Think they'll win?" Dean called from the kitchen. The bathroom was close for talking distance and Dean didn't want to stand in silence.
"Score's close, but I'm sure they'll pull through."
Dean nodded, not sure what else to say. Those slight brushes, was it weird to feel a small spark from them? To feel the heat from them for that millisecond?
"Dean, you alright?"
He turned around to see the larger man behind him, a worried expression on his face.
"Y-Yeah, all good."
Brock patted his shoulder before ruffling his hair, "Game's about to come back."
They both sat back down and continued to watch the game. Both were elated to see the Flyers winning by two points.
"Told you." Brock smirked.
"Shut up, I had confidence in them."
"Suuuuuuuuuuure you did."
Dean playfully shoved Brock's shoulder. "Quit it." he laughed as he moved the bowl to the floor.
Brock grinned, wrapping his arms around the smaller man and pushing him down on the couch. "Such a little brat."
"Am not!"
Brock then proceeded to tickle him. He learned at a party a while back that Dean was ticklish. He had to thank Nattie for that information later.
Dean erupted into giggles, hands swatting to try to get Brock to stop. "Stop man!"
"Not until you admit I'm right."
"Fuck you asshole!"
Brock merely chuckled at Dean's refusal and continued to tickle him. He did find his laugh adorable, loved hearing it.
"You're more of a brat than me though!" Dean retorted.
"Still, just admit that you're a brat and I'll lay off."
Dean tried fighting for a few more minutes, but couldn't win. "Fine, you win! Now stop! I can't breathe!"
Brock eased up and stopped his torture, smiling down at Dean.
"Cheater." Dean grumbled, panting.
Brock ruffled his hair, "Am not."
Dean smirked, getting his turn. He pushed the larger man on his back and straddled his waist.
He knew Brock wasn't ticklish, but did know he didn't like people sitting on him. Dean found out one night they were watching a game and Dean wanted to see what would happen. Not even a second and Brock pulled him off, over and over until Dean gave up.
"Dean, get off."
"Not until you admit you're a cheater." Dean smirked.
"You're cheating too!"
"Turn about is fair play."
"Little shit."
Dean just sat there, a challenging look on his face. "So, care to admit something?"
Brock produced a challenging smirk of his own. He snuck a hand out of Dean's peripheral vision and pinched his hip. Dean squealed and tried squirming out of the slight hold. Brock only pinched harder, causing Dean to lean forward.
"You're a dick you know that?"
"I'm well aware." he grinned.
Dean looked up, their eyes locking. Both could feel the air getting thicker and the temperature increasing. Dean unknowingly licked his lips, getting thoughts about what it would be like to kiss the lips of his friend. He quickly looked away and stood up.
"S-Sorry. I-I have to use the bathroom."
Without waiting for Brock's response, Dean hurried to the restroom.
Brock sat there shocked. Was Dean alright? Did he…feel that weird feeling like he did? He felt like he couldn't breathe, staring into those baby blue eyes, those pink lips, so temping to kiss. He wanted to so badly, but didn't know how Dean would react, or if he even wanted to. He glanced at the clock, it was around eleven twenty. They could find something else to watch before he secretly changed the channel to the ball dropping. He kind of liked seeing it drop, despite popular belief. He scrolled the channels for an action movie Dean might like before settling back into the couch, waiting for Dean to return.
Meanwhile, Dean was splashing cold water on his face, trying to calm himself down. Did he…did he have feelings for Brock? That heat; the thickening of the air; the urge to kiss those lips, wondering what they felt like against his own. He always had a slight crush on the other man, but was always scared to say anything. He didn't know Brock's sexual preference and didn't want to ruin anything between them by making the move first. Once relaxed enough, he rejoined Brock on the couch, seeing a movie play on the screen.
"Figured an action movie was good to watch until you got tired."
"Action movies are always good." Dean smiled.
"And, if it's alright, I would like to see the ball drop."
Dean chuckled, "Didn't take you as someone who liked seeing something like that."
"I will admit all it is, is a giant Christmas light slowly descending off a pole, but for some reason, I always liked watching it, even as a kid."
"Really?"
"Yeah. Every year, I would stay up with my parents and watch it. Of course I would play in my room when the concerts and all the unnecessary crap happened, but right before the ball started to drop, they called me downstairs and I would sit on the couch and watch. I felt bad after the first few years of isolating myself right before then, so I started bringing my toys to the living room and play there."
"Sounds so sweet, who knew the Beast Incarnate had a soft spot?"
Brock pinched Dean's hip once more, causing the other man to cry out.
"Even beasts and monsters have softer and kinder sides to them."
Dean merely nodded to that, not sure how to respond.
"What about you? Ever see the ball drop?"
"…No. I…never had a reason to do so."
"Reason?"
"My mom was always gone from the week of Christmas to the week after New Years. So I was all alone for that period of time. I never really cared about it to start with. Why celebrate a new year when it ends up being the same as the year before? It was the same every year for me, being left alone and being afraid when my mother brought a new man home."
"Left alone? Why?"
"I was never told the reason. I would see her pack a bag, and just leave. Or she wouldn't come home for days. No explanation, no nothing. She left me in an apartment with used needles and syringes on the floor and barely any food in the kitchen. I would get maybe two to three bottles of water and some crackers."
"Dean…"
"Every man she brought home terrified me. I always thought they would hurt me and treat me as they did her. So I would barricade my room, pulling the dresser to block the door and sleeping in the closet, under a shoe rack with a blanket. There was never good lighting so I figured they wouldn't see me and think I was a pile of clothes."
"They never…got in…did they?" Brock didn't want to pry, but the question flew faster than he realized.
"…No, they never got in. Almost like she didn't tell them I existed."
"Dean…"
"Once I graduated high school, I fled. Waited until she left for that Christmas/New Year trip, packed my shit and left. Moved as far away from that place as I could and settled here. Lived in an apartment for a bit, worked in retail which sucked. After years of saving money, moved here and got the car mechanic job. It felt nice to not have to hide anymore."
Brock pulled Dean close to him. He could sense the shock coming from the other man. He was never one to initiate a hug, he never was one to give out comfort. However, something made him want to wrap Dean in his arms and protect him, he wanted to keep him safe.
"I'm so sorry for everything you went through Dean. In a way, it made you a strong and independent person. It's still upsetting you had to live in fear and neglect."
Dean was shocked at this. He welcomed it don't get him wrong, but he never expected his type of behavior from the other man. He slowly circled his arms around the other man's shoulders, basking in the warmth a little. He sighed in content, smiling.
"If I didn't run, I would never have gotten a chance to meet you."
Brock chuckled at that. He looked at the clock to see it being close to midnight.
"Hey, can I change the channel?"
"Sure thing man."
Brock took the remote and switched the channel, not letting go of Dean.
"Look at the screen."
Dean turned and saw the ball sitting there.
"Looks like a disco ball ready to explode."
Brock laughed. "That is does."
The countdown then starts, the ball slowly descending. Dean stares at it, almost amazed.
'Five…four…three…two…one…Happy New Year!'
Everyone on the screen is kissing the person next to them, excited to start the new year. Dean turns to Brock to ask why everyone's kissing when but can't get the question out when Brock's lips are on his in a gentle kiss. Dean quickly melts, eyes slowly closing as he kisses back.
Brock slowly pulls away after some time, blushing. The Beast blushing?! That's a sight.
"Happy New Year." he mumbles.
"Happy New Year." Dean repeats, smiling.
"Been wanting to do that for a while."
Dean feels a blush creeping up himself. "Have you now?"
"Yeah.."
"…Me too…"
They lock lips once more, both wondering what the new year has in store for them.