Chapter 4
Author's Note: Sorry, again, for the long wait, guys. I'll be on holiday and mostly internet-less for the next two weeks, and I doubt I'll get any writing done. So, have an update before I'm away, and please take the time to leave a review if you want to make me happy :)
The year 2030
So we went to the confectioner the next day to have a look at the cakes. I, of course, tagged along. You know your dad, kids, I can't resist when pie is involved. Or cake, for that matter.
And you know that I always say I met your dad at a wedding, right? Well, it's not entirely true. We knew each other before that.
The year 2006
The bell above the door chimed when Sam and Jess stepped through hand-in-hand. Dean walked a few feet behind them, checking the scene carefully.
"Hi," Sam said. "Uhm... we're the 11 o'clock appointment?"
The pastry chef grinned at them and took a few steps around the counter to stand before the couple. "Welcome," he said. "I'm glad you found your way over. Please follow me, I prepared a few cakes for you to try. The wedding planner informed me of your preferences, so I hope there's something you like there."
Dean could just blink and stare after him. Dark, tousled hair, stubble, and a nice smile. Huh. Interesting.
Sam interrupted his train of thought by elbowing him into the side. "Hey Dean," he stage-whispered. "Three o'clock."
Looking into the direction he was told, Dean noticed a set of little wedding couples made of marzipan. The little figures you put on top of the wedding cake. As it turned out, there were not only bride and groom standing there, but also couples that consisted of two grooms or two brides. When he looked back at Sam with a questioning look, Sam just waggled his eyebrows suggestively. Then he smiled at Jess as she pulled him to the back room.
Dean rolled his eyes and followed.
The cake-tasting itself was not that eventful. Sure, every single one of the pastries was really good – but who was he kidding, it just wasn't pie. Dean mostly spent his time watching the pastry chef anyway. He was kind of cute, and he couldn't stop his eyes from looking at him every two seconds. The chef, on the other hand, quickly noticed his glances and shot Dean a wide smile.
Oh.
Dean had to swallow at this point, had to consciously refocus on the cake.
Luckily, Sam and Jess quickly decided to have the lemon and walnut cake which Dean also found pretty enjoyable. When Sam paid and they left, he shared another glance with the cute pastry chef – only to have a piece of paper shoved into his palm when they shook hands as a matter of goodbye.
Unfolding it the second they were far enough away from the shop, Dean found a phone number scribbled on it, complete with a note saying. "Call me! Andy"
"Aw," Sam cooed, looking over Dean's shoulder.
Dean punched him good-naturedly. "Shut up."
Sam snickered then, grinning widely. "Well, our wedding planner already said he could be like that. When I said my brother was bi, he suggested to take you with me so you would have a little fun, too."
"The hell? That are the kind of things you discuss with your wedding planner?" Dean eyed him in disbelief, but Sam just shrugged. "And anyway, since when can you even afford a wedding planner?"
Sam's lips twitched into another grin. "He's a... friend of Jimmy's. Jimmy might have given us his name and address and put in a good word for us?"
Dean shook his head. "Whatever."
"You should come and meet him some time. He's awesome."
Stopping in his tracks, Dean felt heat flare up within himself, and not the good kind of it. He waited until Sam turned around to him to glare at him and snap, "Thanks for your support, Sammy, but could you please – please! - just for two seconds not try to set me up with someone?"
"I just wanted to do you a favor!" Sam replied with his hands risen defensively.
"Yeah, well, I don't want favors! I mean I'm glad for your support and all that, but have you considered I just want to figure out what the hell happened in my life during those last weeks? And that I'm maybe old enough to choose my partners by myself? Thank you very much."
With that, Dean pushed past Sam and Jess and headed blindly for his car. Thank god they had come in separate ones.
He didn't notice the dark-haired, blue-eyed man that rushed right past him and greeted Sam and Jess.
He just drove off.
Later that day, when Sam returned to their flat, Dean didn't daunt him a look.
"Dean," Sam tried, but Dean just looked stubbornly at the TV. Where Jimmy was out and reporting from some shop down-town where a child had crawled into one of the machines you could pull stuffed animals out. At least he'd got the purple giraffe he wanted.
"Dean," Sam said again, more insistent this time.
"What?" Dean snapped back without looking at his little brother.
"I'm sorry," Sam mumbled meekly. "I won't set you up any more. I promise. I just want you to know that you really have all my support."
"I know that already," Dean replied with a huff, placably.
"Good. I should also say sorry from our wedding planner. He didn't want to upset you either."
That made Dean look up in confusion. "What's he gotta do with it?"
"Like I said, I told him about your latest life crisis and he could relate. He also likes Andy a lot."
Dean grumbled. "Next time tell him that I can care for my own love life."
"Will do. Listen, we're going ring shopping next week. You wanna come with us?" Sam asked.
"What, why do you need me there?" Dean asked back, quite confused.
"You're my best man. And my brother. If you haven't figured it out yet, your opinion is kinda important to me."
Dean rubbed his hand over his eyes. "Sure. When is it?"
"Thursday."
"If we're going in the afternoon, that could work."
Thursday, as it turned out, was one long day at work. Dean was beat and slightly pissed when he came to the jeweler's that evening. Sam was already walking up and down the room with Jess trying to calm him down.
"Dean! There you are!" she said as soon as Dean stepped into the store.
He tried to catch his breath before he answered. "Jup. Sorry I couldn't make it earlier, I had like three cars to fix at once and pretty much by yesterday."
Sam only shot him an understanding smile. "Sure. Don't worry about it. But, you know, now you missed our wedding planner, again."
"Again?"
"Yes, he came to see us after we tried the cake. He said he noticed you storming past him, but you looked so furious that he didn't even dare to say hello."
"Oh," Dean coughed and scratched the back of his head. "Sorry, can't remember him."
"Anyway, he says hi. And he said you should help us choose which pair of these we should get," Sam explained, pointing at two pairs of rings laying on the counter in front of them. The jeweler was patiently waiting a few steps away, carefully listening for any requests they may have. "Jess and I like both."
Both pairs were silver – or white gold, Dean didn't really care – one pair pretty plain with only a small white crystal in the middle of the women's band, while the other pair was decorated with a chiseled, fine ornament around the length of it, a beautiful work of art by itself.
"Well, I'd go for the plain ones, but knowing you the other pair will probably suit you better," Dean answered visceral.
Jess began to laugh, but it came out rather mockingly.
"What?" Dean asked with a frown on his face.
"That's exactly what the wedding planner said," she chuckled. "And I mean word by word. Sure you don't-"
Dean shut her up with a roll of his eyes. "No."
"Well, then," Sam clapped his hands, effectively attracting the jeweler's attention. "We'll take these," he added and shoved the two rings with the ornaments towards the guy.
Lucky for your Uncle Sam, he didn't bother me with the wedding crap for a few weeks after that. Truth be told, those were not the most glorious weeks I had. I didn't date or hook up, I was far from being okay with myself. Not even Gabriel was able to help me with that.
"So, you wanna go out some time again?" Gabriel said, nursing his beer as the two of them sat in the bar one other Thursday evening. "Although it'd be pretty cool if you wouldn't leave me there alone this time."
"You vanished into the back room with some hunk."
"Still, you left me."
"You still found your way home."
"I did, after spending an hour on Google maps, which drained my phone's battery, so that I couldn't even call a cab and had to take the bus from where that guy lived. Which was, just FYI, somewhere in the middle of nowhere!"
"Yeah, I'm not taking pity on you here, Gabe."
"But, as my best friend-"
"You're not my best friend, dude."
"- it is your responsibility to get me home at such occasions. And it is my responsibility as your best friend –"
"Gabe."
"- to take you out and get your mind off things when you're sulking."
Dean rolled his eyes. "I'm not sulking."
Gabriel raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Yeah? Then what's it that you're doing here? Farting rainbows all over the place?"
"Jesus Christ," Dean spat out, shooting a bitchface of Sam's proportions Gabriel's way. "Will you just let it go for once? I feel like I'm having to say this to everyone! Stop trying to hook me up and for Christ's sake stop trying to stuff me into one of your stupid boxes! Yes, I'm bi, no, that doesn't mean I'm living as promiscuous as you do."
"Woah," Gabriel said after a short moment of staring at Dean. "Where did that come from?"
"I-"
"And since when are you anything but promiscuous?" Gabriel added with a frown, effectively interrupting Dean. "Aren't you the definition of that?"
Dean swallowed. Truth be told, he was. At least with all the girls in the last couple of years. "Maybe realizing… that I'm into guys as well changed me a bit more," he replied quietly.
Gabriel just stared at him some more. "What?"
"Well, I know I suck at relationships with girls. Who knows if I suck at relationships with guys as well?"
"Oh, believe me when I say that someone always sucks at relationships with guys, and I bet you would," Gabriel said smugly, "Pun intended."
Dean facepalmed. "Tell me again why I'm friends with you?"
"Because I'm awesome! C'mon, up top!" Gabriel sing-songed and held his hand up for Dean to high-five it.
"Forget it."
Gabriel shrugged. "Looks like it's just you and me, buddy," he grinned, looking at his hand.
"That sounds vaguely dirty," Dean interjected dryly and took a gulp of his beer.
"Not that, Dean-O. Self-five!" Gabriel proclaimed then and slapped his own hand.
"You are so incredibly lame."
"Then what are you, huh?" Gabriel tilted his head, smirking.
"Dealing with a pre-midlife crisis?"
"I'd say afraid."
"… what."
"Isn't it obvious?" Gabriel stated, shaking his head. "You're afraid of accepting who you are."
"I'm completely accepting who I am. Doesn't mean I have to live like it immediately," Dean rolled his eyes.
"Aren't you curious?"
Dean had risen his beer bottle to his lips and set it down hard onto the table at that. "Of course I'm curious! Curious as hell, in fact! But I'm also not a teenager any more who would jump into just anybody's pants to lose their virginity. I know better than that."
"So, you're, what? Waiting for the one?" Gabriel mocked.
"What if I am, huh?"
"I'm just wondering, because that's not like you at all."
"Yeah, maybe it is. I just a feeling, you know," Dean said quietly, and strangely enough, it was the truth.
Back then, I couldn't really nail down what it was, kids. I thought it was just a weird feeling because of my life had turned upside down. Apparently, there was more to that, though.
I learned about it about a month later, when Sam and Jess had their wedding run-up.
But at least they left me be and didn't try to hook me up with anyone.
"Are we ready?" the priest asked into the room just as Dean burst through the doors.
"Sorry," Dean quickly whispered to Sam as he reached the altar. "Work."
Sam just nodded, clearly relieved to see his brother. "'s okay. Go to your mark."
And Dean quickly made his way up to the priest, smiling apologetically. "Hi. Uhm, I'm the best man?"
The man only raised an eyebrow at Dean and went back to his book. "Well, then I think we can start."
He began to read, and while Sam already stood in front of the altar, Jess waited for her cue to walk up the aisle. Dean didn't really listen to what he said, just remembered that he had to hand them the rings as soon as they were done speaking their vows. Which was about all he really needed to know. The rest of the ceremony was way to chick-flick-y for him.
A few minutes later, when the father was busy closing the ritual, Dean noticed that the door to the small chapel that Sam and Jess chose was opened once again. All eyes in the room were drawn to the unexpected movement, but it was only Jimmy, raising his hand in apology. Jess shot a short smile at him and turned back to her soon-to-be husband. The priest went on.
Dean, on the other hand, found his eyes still drawn to Jimmy. Something was wrong. Not wrong in a bad way; just different. Something about Jimmy was different. His hair? No. Tousled as always, one way or another. The trench coat was also in place. Outwardly, he didn't look any different than else.
Dean shook his head slightly and tried to shake the weird feeling off. Surely he was just imagining things.
That's when the father clapped his hands. "Good job, everyone! I think that the ceremony will go just fine. It would just be nice if the best man here-" he scowled at Dean with, again, a risen eyebrow, "- would pay a little more attention."
"Sorry, father," Dean replied quietly and bent his head like a little kid getting reprimanded by his dad.
When everybody drifted apart and partly towards the door already, Jimmy was the first to come up to the altar.
"Oh, I'm glad you could make it," Jess said immediately and hugged him.
"Can we talk for a second?" Sam asked, and already lead Jimmy away, only turning towards Dean when he was a few feet away. "I'll see you at home, Dean!"
"Sure," Dean said and waved.
Right then, Jimmy turned his head as well and locked eyes with Dean.
Again, that weird feeling. Something was different about the way Jimmy looked, about the way he smiled at Dean and waved as a matter of goodbye.
Dean didn't have any time to dwell on it, though, because Gabriel was tapping his shoulder. "Hey big guy, can you give me a lift home? Sam took me here, but I guess he'll be busy for a little while longer and I really need to get home."
Nodding absent-mindedly, Dean mumbled, "Yeah, sure."
They left, and Dean drove straight home after dropping Gabriel off. That weird feeling still wouldn't leave him. Something was off, damnit, and it bugged him to no end. I'm going crazy, Dean thought when he opened the door to the flat and dropped his keys into the bowl beside it.
Exhausted, he flopped down onto the couch in the living room, reflexively reaching for the remote and switching the TV on. Jimmy was on air, reporting from some-
Dean blinked. Twice.
Jimmy was on air.
In the middle of a report.
How could he have driven to the station and gotten ready for the news? Dean knew from enough of Jimmy's stories that it always took some time to get him ready. And it had been barely a ten minute drive from the chapel. There was no way-
Jep, I'm going crazy, Dean thought and laid down on the couch. Rubbing his eyes, he felt how sleep slowly overpowered him. Life, he decided, was too much for him to handle at the moment.
He woke up about two hours later, from his cell phone buzzing in his pocket. With a displeased groan, he managed to fumble it out of his jeans and saw that he had an unread message. From Jimmy. 'Bar?' it said.
'Yes, please. Now?' Dean answered.
'Sure. Meet me there.'
With another groan, Dean sat up and ran his hands over his face, trying to wake up completely. A beer would help, he was sure.
Two minutes later, Dean sat in their usual booth, one beer in front of him, one opposite of him, waiting for Jimmy.
"Hello, Dean," Jimmy's familiar voice greeted him as the other man sat down across the table.
"Hey, man," Dean said, still a bit sleepy.
"You look rather tired, if I may say," Jimmy said, and Dean looked closer at him then.
His voice sounded... like the deep voice he'd only used as a reporter. He also had that strange aura going on again. Dean frowned irritatedly, but answered, "Yeah, I just slept for two hours or so. Was pretty drained after that wedding run-up."
Jimmy huffed softly. "I am aware that these events tend to end up pretty stressing. I hope you recovered in the meantime?"
Dean had to blink. Jimmy sounded... not like himself. Maybe he was a bit off because he just returned from work? Did reporters have to express themselves like this? "Yeah, yeah, I did," Dean managed.
"So what did you think of the run-up?" Jimmy asked, taking a tentative gulp from his bottle.
"But you where there, why-?" Dean left the sentence unfinished, not yet knowing what was off.
"Oh, yes, of course, but I just wanted what you thought."
Dean swallowed another sip of his beer and shrugged. "Right. I think it'll be fine, not that I've got much experience with those things."
"In all honesty, I am much more looking forward to the reception. It's going to be a wonderful party," the edges of Jimmy's lips twitched upwards, and Dean noticed that he hadn't even smiled today. Which was weird as well. Huh.
"You've got quite some faith in the wedding planner, huh?"
"Yes, I do. He's a very capable acquaintance of mine."
Okay, so by now, Jimmy sounded almost ridiculous. Dean decided that he needed something more than just a beer.
"Hey, you want a scotch? Round's on me," he offered, fumbling for his wallet.
"I don't-" Jimmy began, but quickly stopped himself. He was getting weirder by the second. "Well, yes, sure."
"Great," Dean said smiling and went to Jo at the bar.
When he returned, Jimmy sat opposite of the table staring at his beer bottle. Dean placed the glass in front of him and flopped down.
"Cheers," he said, holding it towards the other man. They clinked glasses and Dean downed his shot at once. He immediately waved for Jo to refill their glasses. That is, after Jimmy sceptically drained his, too.
After a few moments of staring awkwardly at each other, Dean finally found the courage to ask. "So, what's up? You seem a bit off today."
Jimmy startled visibly, but shrugged it off and tried to sound nonchalant. "I can assure you, it's nothing. My working schedule is just exhausting."
"Yeah, I bet," Dean said.
If he hadn't known Jimmy, he'd say there was a completely different person sitting in front of him. But there he was, usual big blue eyes that eyed Dean hesitantly and tousled dark hair and trench coat. And that deep, rolling voice that Dean usually only heard on TV. If that was another side of Jimmy, he couldn't exactly say that he didn't like it.
"You seem rather uncomfortable, too. Are you alright?" Jimmy asked tentatively.
Dean nodded warily. "It's just the usual crap. Lot of work. Sammy getting married. Me in my post-midlife crisis."
"Yes, I've heard- I mean, I see."
Dean tried not to let anything on and drowned another shot of whiskey. When he eyed Jimmy expectantly, he did so as well. Dean ordered another round and sighed deeply as soon as Jo was away. "I mean, I'm happy for Sam and Jess, they really do deserve this, and I know they'll make each other happy. But, between us, it feels so weird. I'm four years older than him and I got nothing."
"You shouldn't sell yourself short, Dean," Jimmy interjected quickly. The sound of his voice and the compliment sent a jolt of... something – down Dean's spine. He really should have eaten something before he got drunk with his friend. But, well. Another round of shots was emptied.
"It's just... I want a family, too, Jimmy. One of my own. Kids. A house. A dog. I don't know. And now I'm finding myself drawn to guys more than to chicks and how could that ever work out?" he let out a deep sigh and rubbed his temples with one hand.
"Well, there are enough possibilities offered nowadays. There's adoption and surrogate mothers, and you can always buy a house and a dog-"
"Not so much with the crappy salary I'm making."
"... so you're just dissatisfied with the situation as a whole?"
"Yeah," Dean huffed. "Pretty much. I'd wish I'd have known this sooner about myself. Would've made a lot of things easier."
"Maybe, maybe not. Consider high school."
Dean let out a bitter laugh. "That one not so much."
"See. I told you I could relate," Jimmy nodded, then lifted his shot glass to Dean. "Cheers, Dean."
And yeah, his name spoken in that deep voice did do things to Dean that he didn't want to specify in that moment. He was far from caring about the oddness surrounding Jimmy by that point. The alcohol slowly did its work, and Dean found himself soon pleasantly buzzed. Dean quickly found himself babbling, lost in tales about high school and Sam's earlier pranks and some anecdotes about their dad. Jimmy mostly just smiled secretively, but in the end, Dean had him chuckling at most of his tales. Again, highly unusual but also... Dean couldn't shrug it off. This side of Jimmy seemed rather adorable. Something Dean could really get used to.
But drinking whiskey shots the way they did ended their evening pretty soon. When Jo refused to give them any more shots and instead sent them upstairs, Dean grumbled. But Jo knew him by now, and truth be told, he was beat for the day. So he still grumbled, but stood up to get upstairs. And woah, the world was spinning. Not exactly what he had been planning on. Dean blinked before he noticed that Jimmy had the same problem.
Laughing quietly, Dean took Jimmy's arm around his shoulders and held him in a somewhat vertical position. Jimmy reflexively curled his arm around Dean's waist and followed him.
"Night," Dean called out to Jo and Ellen, noticing the older woman shaking her head at them. Dean only grinned.
They made their way up to the flat slowly. The stairs were kinda tricky, and by the time Jimmy stumbled for the fourth time and made some grunted, displeased noises, Dean looked over at him. "Jimmy, you alright?" he asked.
No reaction. Not even Jimmy turning his head towards Dean. But then again, they were plastered. So what.
Dean unlocked the door to the apartment, which proved rather difficult with Jimmy still hanging from his shoulder. He mumbled incoherent sentences against Dean's shoulder, even as Dean dragged him inside and let him slump down onto the sofa. Somehow, he managed to get the trench coat off his almost limp body, and found a blanket to toss over him.
"Jimmy?" Dean asked, not quite convinced that the other man was already asleep.
No reaction, again, even though Jimmy was wriggling on the couch, eyes on half-mast.
"Jimmy?" Dean said again, softer this time, and nudged Jimmy's shoulder lightly.
Blue eyes opened slowly and locked with Dean's, Jimmy's mouth lightly parted as he stared at him. It took a lot of Dean's willpower to not lean down and kiss him. They were friends, for crying out loud. Only friends. That tingling sensation in Dean's stomach had nothing to do there.
The side of Jimmy he had got to know tonight was making Dean considering his intentions towards him again. He sighed.
"Are you sure you're okay, Jimmy?" Dean asked. "Do you need something to-"
"'m not," Jimmy mumbled.
"What? Sorry, I didn't hear you, dude."
"I am not," Jimmy said, louder this time, with obvious exertion.
"What not? Not okay?"
"No... I'm not Jimmy," he mumbled, eyes slipping closed again. Seconds later, soft snores were heard in the living room of Dean's and Sam's apartment.
"Yeah, right," Dean snorted and went to bed himself.
The next morning, Jimmy was gone and Sam didn't ask what happened. He just brought Dean a glass of water and two Alka-Seltzer.
The wedding was two days later.
"That sounds like you got drunk with Daddy, not with Uncle Jimmy." - "It was your Daddy, sweetie."