Dean got out of the car as he had finally got out of the afternoon rush. Times like these he cursed that his father was right; Owning a car in New York was probably idiotic, for a poor student like him especially. But Dean loved his Baby like his best friend, like his little brother. She was his Baby, unexceptionable, one true beauty. Nothing like piece of rusty junk like his father had said. Well, John drove only with cars made after the new millennium.
Dean raked his hand through his spiky, light brown hair, glancing around him in the busy street. Laying his journal down for a while on the hood of his car he shrugged off his jacket and with quick fingers unbuttoned his dress shirt, tying them tightly around his hips. Only in his white t-shirt he headed to the cafe, having to walk for a good half a mile to get in there, his journal in a tight hold against his side.
Finally arriving to the cafe he took his familiar seat from the last booth. He glanced at the other customers briefly, flashing a smile to the business lady sitting by the counter drinking her latte, eating a bagel. Dean stuck out from the crowd, looking completely out of place amidst all the business types.
Woman just arched her thin brows at him, evaluating him shortly with her gaze. An approving smile visited her lips before she turned back to reading the newspaper she had been reading. Dean spotted the wedding ring on her left ring finger. He just grinned. He hadn't gotten rusty.
He slid sitting down on the bench he constatly sat in, putting the journal on the table. He quickly flicked through the pages, seeing old dates from years behind before he finally reached the next fresh page. He pulled the pen out which he had stuffed under the back of the book. The whole tattered old thing was being held together with a binder clips and other various objects.
The hostess of the place, Alice shuffled past him, pushing the small plate of pie in front of him. "Eat something", she said softly to him, despite how tired she looked. Just a few years back when she had been in her late fifties she had been all perky and exuberant but now... Well. Maybe years of serving and holding the small coffee shop together took its toll slowly. Dean just grinned her widely.
"Yes, ma'am", he said with a sweet tone, looking more than thankful. Alice had always been good to him and Dean tried to pay it back to her as well as he just could.
After eating too many pieces of pie and drinking too many cups of coffee he had left the small coffee. His roommate had came for him there, to bum a ride back home. The coffee shop was around halfway from their school to their flat, so Gabriel took all the possible advantages of it that he just could. And Dean didn't really mind.
They walked side to side, heading towards the spot where Dean had parked the car. Dean was smoking, inhaling and slowly blowing it out. Gabriel instead rolled the lollipop around in his mouth, hard candy clattering against his teeth. A wide grin appeared on short man's lips and he glanced at Dean. All he got back was just a questioning arch of the brows.
"What?"
"I sold your boyfriend a toothbrush", Gabriel informed, sounding as proud as if he had just won the Nobel Peace Price. Dean looked just confused.
"You sold my who? What?" The smoke was hed forgotten between his index and middle finger as he looked at Gabriel, searching for answers. Gabriel huffed and rolled his eyes.
"That lean, well muscled, oblivious fucking nice piece of meat you left in your bed in the morning... Sold him a toothbrush. Got three bucks. Probably wanted the taste of your spunk out of his mouth", Gabriel said, bursting into laughter which signaled that Gabriel thought that he had cracked a good one now. All Dean could do was just to let out a breath, mumbling something about unbelievable before glancing back at the small man who had shoved the lollipop deep in his mouth again.
"Congrats, then?" Dean said, ending it in question, finishing his smoke and stubbing it under his shoe as he walked by.
"Are in order, yup", Gabriel said, grinning as he slurped loudly on his lollipop. It seemed to be cherry flavored. Man briefly brushed his long, caramel colored hair out of his face and behind his ear.
"I think I could make a business out of it", the man, slightly older than Dean, poundered out loud, as if searching for Dean's opinion in it. Dean just arched his brows again, questioning everything Gabriel said and did today. Well, it had always been like that. Since they had met in the junior high. Gabriel was that guy that Dean couldn't stand but couldn't deal without. Yeah. There was just that something about the small, fox like man that attracted him in some level.
"Yeah... The one-night-stand travel -up for women! Rubbers for guys! The toiletries, cell phone charger, cab numbers, the whole set!" Gabriel grinned widely, glancing at Dean with yellowish brown eyes which had now spread wide in zeal.
"Retail it at 19,95, nice price. We could do like million flyers and toss 'em off from the balcony.. Thingie... And hope the whole pile doesn't smash anyone's head in!" He finished his sentence by biting the lollipop in half. A terrible, loud crunching sound could be heard and Dean found himself to be wincing little at the thought of Gabriel's brochures crushing some poor old lady. Maybe he should talk his roomie out of it.
"Aaaaand... You think anyone would buy this?" he started, bumping against Gabriel's side, his hands tucked in the deep pockets of his trousers. "Like with actual money?"
Gabriel huffed, puffing out his chest, tugging on the lapels of his green plaid shirt which was hanging open over the rusty red t-shirt. "Hey... One night stands happen! It's part of life. Like stubbing your toe, twisting it until it cracks..."
He grinned again widely. "Sometimes..." he continued, lifting his arm to try and reach to hook it around Dean's shoulders, only managing to put himself in an awkward angle. "Sometimes you misjudge a corner and CRACK, bend your pinky toe, other times you wake up in a freshman dorm... Wearing a field hockey tee... And wondering why your balls smell like cottoncandy." His grin turned nearly into devilish and his gaze looked absent for a moment as if he was thinking back at something that Dean had no desires to know about.
"Yeah. Of course. Sure", he just said as if to have a closure to the damned subject. Gabriel shrugged, letting his hand drop from Dean's shoulder as he chewed the lollipop parts into smaller pieces with the stick still hanging between his lips.
"What ya say You down?" Gabriel said, continuing with the topic no matter how Dean tried to avoid it. Dean glanced at him, giving him a small, playful shove on his side. "I think I'm down with getting you on some sort of medication... Which doesn't include any sugar."
Gabriel rolled his shoulders, offended. He still thought his idea was nothing more than simply brilliant. "Alright, Dean-o. Be cynical like you always are... Just remember, my man, at some point of the history two people discussed about light bulb the same way we're talking about the survival kit here, and know this... Other one went on to fame and fortune while other one went to work at the Burger King or something."
Next morning in the 'better neighborhoods' of New York City an expensive car stopped in front of a small row house. Sam waited on the narrow, stony stairs patiently, arms rested on his bony knees, in his blue and red colored school uniform. Seeing the car he tilted his head up and shifted the bag better on his shoulder before pouncing up.
In few, long great leaps forward he reached the car. The driver had got out and opened the back door of the large car. Sam mutered that he could have done it himself, but old driver was stuck in his old habits and Sam had no say in it. He just thanked the old man, giving him a greeting smile before slid sitting in the backseat.
After a ten, fifteen minutes drive the public highschool came finally to the view. Sam pressed unconsciously more tight against the leather upholstery, his thin fingers curling tigher around the sling of his back. He saw the cluster of kids his age and few years older in blue and red uniforms packed in front of the front door.
Sam was glad the car had tinted windows. He took a moment of peace for himself, and the driver, Eddie offered it to him. He knew the school wasn't easiest thing to go through... Especially if you were more or less better than others.
In afternoon Dean sat in the lecture hall, in the back of the room. He strecthed himself slightly, a quiet yawn being drawn from him. He settled back on his seat, pen tapping restlessly on his journal again. He had piles of books open in front of himself and he studied them lazily, listening to old professor's maniac, low voice which drilled right into his brain.
Time by times the professor addresses the few students paying attention. Dean wasn't one of them. Old man was talking about Greek literature. Usually Dean was interested, but today something was different. He just couldn't give rat's ass about it.
" ... has changed over time to accommodate the evolution of their culture, of which mythology, both overtly and in its unspoken assumptions, is an index of the changes. In Greek mythology's surviving literary forms, as found mostly at the end of the progressive changes..."
Dean yawned again, just in time to see one hand rising. Slender wrist and long fingers. Dean followed the arm down to the body. The boy sat close by to him and Dean could see his figure.
He looked like he had been focusing in the class the whole time. Boy's dark, nearly black hair was sinfully messy, looking like he had just gotten laid. Dean bit on his lip, eyes travelling to boy's eyes. They looked much fainter blue than what they looked like when boy's eyes flicked to other direction. Deep, deep blue big deer eyes. Dean cocked his head to the side.
A question that the boy asked from the professor made no sense whatsoever to him and Dean just shrugged it off. Boy bend over back to do his notes relentlessly, leaning his cheek on his left hand. He blinked very rarely, and in Dean's mind he looked nearly like a robot trying to burn the whole in the paper with his laser beam eyes. Nothing happened.
Dean took in his face, his plain clothes - simple white t-shirt, blue jeans, red sneakers - and the silver cross hanging around his neck. Dean arched his brow, finding himself wondering if the boy was religious... And in what amount.
Then he just grimaced at boy's question, and noticed that no matter how much he had been studying or would be in the future, he'd never reach to that level.
