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Seth had left the small town he grew up in with absolutely no regrets. He’d left because he wanted to make something of himself. And he did. He’s got enough fame to be comfortable thanks to his Instagram fans, his Twitter followers, and his YouTube subscribers. It’s not quite the dreams of becoming a politician that he’d left with, but being a fitness and health guru is important too. He’s a Fitspiration to millions, and that’s just as important as campaigning for universal healthcare, or sensible gun laws, or keeping religion out of schools. He inspires people to be healthy, and healthy people make healthy choices for society. So, in a roundabout way he’s still living his dream.
Coming back to his hometown was definitely not what he wanted, but his grandma died back in the summer. It’d taken the family this long to get things sorted. All that’s left is for Seth to head home, and take a look around what’s left of his Grandma’s house to see if there’s anything he’d like to have as a keepsake of her memory.
Being back here in this little Midwest town is at once nostalgic, and awful. He’s not missed these little buildings, or the little people, or the littleness in general. Every inch of the place makes him think of his childhood. He can remember every miserable moment of his childhood on these streets. He can remember running from bullies down certain streets, and lurking in his Grandma’s store waiting for them leave. He can remember awkward moments with his crush in that store far too well too.
The main street is emptier than he remembers when he pulls up in front of the store. The shoe store that used to be across the street is empty. The pet store, the book store, the drug store, the lady’s clothing store, all of them gone. The only places that seems to still be open are the rundown bar on the corner, and the pizzeria. The key in his pocket feels heavy as he approaches the old store. He shoves the memories of his Grandpa’s old Christmas displays from his mind. The whole memory of Christmas in this little town was something else. They used to go all out. There would be lights, decorations, and an old Santa on the corner with a bell and a kettle. He always liked Christmas here, but he does love Christmas in the city. Big city Christmas is something else compared to small town Christmas, and now it seems like there is no small-town Christmas to even start the comparison in the first place. He opens the door, and lets himself in.
“Oh god…look at this place.” There’s dust everywhere. The old shelves are ramshackle, and lurching to one side. The magazine rack is missing a shelf. The counter’s glass top is broken, and the cash register is missing. This isn’t the place he remembers. This isn’t anything like his memories. This is just painful. He picks up one of the broken shelves, and he tries to reattach it to the unit. “Oh god…I shouldn’t have come in here.” He groans, and jumps when the little bell above the door chimes behind him.
“Why are you here?” He freezes. He’s not heard that voice since he worked here as a teenager. Dean Ambrose. The coolest kid in his class. The mysterious, beer-drinking, cigarette-smoking, leather jacket wearing crush of fifteen-year-old Seth Rollins. He’s not changed all that much. He still looks way cooler than Seth, and still smokes, or more accurately vapes. Dangling between his fingers is a vaping pen, and he blows a lungful of cinnamon scented smoke out into the shop.
“I’m here to see the place one last time.” Seth mutters, folding his arms over his chest, and turning his back on Ambrose. The last thing he needs is to fall back into an old crush. The last thing he needs is to be here. His cell phone vibrates in his pocket, and he supposes his agent is trying to get in touch with him to make sure he doesn’t end up stuck in small town nowhere when he should be in big city somewhere.
“It’s changed, hasn’t it?” Dean’s voice is too close to his ear. “I didn’t think we’d ever see you back here, Seth.” Dean’s moved away from him, and Seth turns to look at him. Dean’s leaning against the counter, his vape pen between his lips. “I guess this old store’s not the only thing that’s changed.” Dean’s staring at him, and Seth fidgets awkwardly.
“Yeah…well…some of us change, some of us grow up, some of us-“ He’s cut off by his phone ringing. “I gotta take this.” He holds his phone up, and hopes that he actually does have to take it, because he’s no idea who’s calling him. Dean looks at him sceptically, but leaves the store. “Hello?” The caller launches into a spiel about changing his internet provider.
The pizzeria has not changed. The town might be dying, but the pizzeria is still the same place it ever was. They still serve a slice with a knife and fork, and with cloth napkins. He can’t help but feel like a child all over again. It’s stupid, but he misses this place being the most exciting place in town. He misses this town being more like home. He misses something he can’t put his finger on.
“Seth?” The old woman who owns the pizzeria comes over, and sits opposite him. “My, my…you’ve changed.” She smiles at him, and pats his hand. “It’s been a long time…a long, long time.” She smiles at him, and sets a can of pop down by his plate. “I remember when your Grandma would take you here for dinner…I…” The old woman trails off with a sigh. “She was a good woman.” The old woman gets up, and leaves Seth to his dinner.
He spends the night in apartment above the store. The spare room where he’d sleep as a kid hasn’t changed in the least. It’s dusty, but that’s the only difference. In the morning, he stands cursing the lack of Wi-Fi, and the fact that he can’t think of anything that his fans might be interested in. Small town America isn’t really to their taste. He’s fans are all people who want to leave their small towns behind like him. He left this small-town world behind for a reason.
“I should be…oh god.” He’s on idea what he should be doing, but he should be somewhere else. He should be back home, and working out, and posting pictures, and making sure to getting rid of those pizza calories from last night. He catches a glimpse of his reflection in his Grandma’s watermarked mirror, and groans. His abs don’t look any different, but he can’t help but remember the last time he looked in this mirror. He’d been a soft teenager, sucking in his squishy teenage tummy, thinking about cute Dean Ambrose, and how he wants him to notice him. “Oh god.” He rubs at his face, and concludes that he could at least clean the store up a little. If nothing else, he’ll feel better about selling the place if it looks nicer. If nothing else, cleaning will put Dean Ambrose out of his mind.
In the morning’s light the store doesn’t look any better. The dust motes look pretty dancing around in the air, but that’s the nicest thing he can think of the situation. A loud knock on the door draws his attention, and he rushes to open it.
“Knock, knock.” Dean Ambrose. A grinning, leather jacket and woolly hat wearing vision of morning cheer. He holds up a paper bag, and shakes it. “I come bearing gifts.” He glances over Seth’s shoulder, and enters the falling apart store when Seth steps aside. “Wow.” He breathes, and Seth tries to put his childhood thoughts of Dean to the side. Dean comes closer, and flicks at Seth’s hair. Seth takes a step back, and scowls at him. He doesn’t welcome people stepping into his personal space.
“What is it?” He scrubs a hand through his hair frantically, as Dean snorts a dismissive laugh and shakes his head. He sets the paper bag down on the counter, and smiles at Seth.
“Just a little cobweb, nothing to worry about.” Dean puts his hands in his pockets, and leans against the wall. “So, I heard that you might be needing some help to fix this place back up.”
“No.” Seth shakes his head firmly, and casts a critical eye around the store. “I’m selling.”
“You can’t sell it like this.” Dean raises an eyebrow at him. Seth winces slightly, and tries to put how rundown his grandparents’ old grocery store is to the back of his mind. “Do you remember when we worked here?” Dean laughs, and Seth winces again. “It’s changed so much, but I remember…I remember the gumball machine out the front, and the porno mags on the top shelf.” Dean laughs, and flicks Seth’s hair again. “You’re like a magnet for dust.” Seth pulls the hair-elastic form his wrist and secures his hair away from his face, and hopefully the dust.
“I guess I can fix it up a little.” Seth mutters, trying to not remember the top shelf magazines. It’d been through Leather Daddy that he’d discovered that he liked other boys in the way he was supposed to like girls. He can remember telling his Grandma he was a Men of the World boy and not a Hustler one. He’d been such a dork back then, but at least he’s cool now. He looks over at Dean, effortlessly cool in his leather jacket and tousled hair, still not as cool as Dean though.
“I don’t think you can fix it up, Seth…you never were much in shop class.” Dean laughs, and smiles over at him. Seth’s expecting malice to be in that laugh, but it’s nothing more than a kind chuckle at a fond childhood memory. Seth thinks that Dean might remember growing up here different to him.
“I guess…there’s gotta be a guy here though, right?” Seth bites his bottom lip, and tries to remember who the handiest man in the town had been when they’d been growing up was.
“Yeah…there is.” Dean shifts so he’s standing in front of Seth, and holds his hand out for a shake. “I’m fairly cheap, don’t worry.” Seth stares at him blankly for a second, and takes his hand. “So, lets have breakfast, and then we can get started on cleaning this place up.” Dean pulls two cups of coffee from his paper bag, and some doughnuts. He leans against the counter, a smile on his lips.
“So…you’re the handy man around here? I remember you wanting to go to college and…” Seth trails off, not wanting to be so obvious in his interest in Dean. He remembers him wanting to study to become a psychiatrist. He wonders what happened to keep Dean in this small town.
“My mother needed me…she was sick, and needed someone to stay with her, so I stayed. I…I still studied though, just plumbing and electronics, instead of medicine and the mind.” Dean laughs, and eats his doughnut. He smiles over at Seth, and nudges the bag of doughnuts over to him. “I’ve got some cleaning stuff in the truck.”
They eat breakfast quickly, and when Dean leaves the store to bring in his cleaning supplies, Seth throws the trash out. He’d once more cursed the lack of Wi-Fi, but he found a Christmas feed on his Spotify, and set it up to play. He’s always associated this place with Christmas, and now with his Grandma was gone, it’s devoid of any of the festive cheer he’d remembered.
“Catch.” Dean tosses a rag at Seth, and laughs when it smacks into Seth’s face. “I wasn’t expecting Christmas tunes for this.” Dean smiles over at him, and starts wiping down the tumbledown shelves.
“It’s…Christmas used to be such a thing here…what happened?” Seth comes back into the store with a bucket of water, and gets on with wiping down the shelves. Dean shrugs rather than answer, and a silence, an awkward, heavy silence settles between them. The only sounds in the deserted store is the music on Seth’s phone and the sound dirty rags being wrung out. It takes a few hours, but finally the layers of dust and dirt are gone. It’s still not quite right, but its better. He can see his memories better with the filth off the shelves. With the last of the dirt gone, Seth takes the bucket and empties it again. When he comes back into the store, Dean is sweeping the last of the dust from the ground into a pan.
“I used to hate doing this at the end of the day.” Dean laughs, leaning on the broom with a smile. “Your grandad would always have a real tree in the window, and the damn thing would always shed needles all over the floor.”
“Yeah, but it smelled so…it smelled like Christmas, you know?” Seth wraps his arms around himself, his eyes falling closed at the memory of helping his grandparents decorate their tree. Never has Christmas felt the same as those years he spent here.
“Smelled like trouble to me.” Dean laughs, and flicks at Seth’s hair. Seth backs away from the gentle gesture. His hand runs through his hair, hopefully removing what ever was in it.
“You’ve missed it.” Dean picks something out of Seth’s hair, and tosses it to the floor. “So, I’ll be back tomorrow...do you want to…never mind.” Dean smiles at him vaguely, and leaves the store, heading for the bar on the corner. Seth decides that he should make a call to his manager, and explains that he’ll be in his hometown for a little while longer. He’s going to stay until the store is at least cleaned and fixed up. There’s something horrible about seeing his grandparents’ legacy so fallen apart. They’d loved Christmas, they’d loved the lights, and the cheer. Seeing the place so broken apart is like seeing his own memories tainted. He’s going to get a tree, and lights and he’s going to reclaim his grandpa’s tradition of having a tree in the window.
The next morning, Seth’s awoken by the sound of loud hammering. He glances at his phone, and groans. It’s not even six o’clock, but it being so early does mean he can get a run in before eight. He pulls on some clothes, and heads downstairs to the store.
“Morning.” Dean calls out over the sound of his work. Seth nods to him, and wonders why he’s so tired when from what the old woman in the pizzeria said last night, Dean should have a crippling hangover. “You making coffee?” Dean comes into the kitchen area, and leans against the door.
“Yeah...I need coffee before I head out for my morning run.” Seth flicks on the coffee machine, and sits at the table. “So, I was talking to Gloria in the pizzeria last night.” Dean takes a seat opposite him, and raises his eyebrows in response. “She says that the reason this place is dead is that factory closed.”
“Yeah…pretty much, but what would you expect? No factory, no jobs, no jobs, no money.” Dean rubs a hand over his face, and sighs. “There’s nothing left, and no-one wants to admit it, so the few of us who are still here try to keep things going.” Dean sighs, and takes a lungful from his vape pen. “Do you remember how I wanted to be a psychiatrist?”
“Yeah…I remember.” Seth smiles awkwardly, and turns to face the coffee machine, taking two cups from the cabinet.
“I wanted to be a psychiatrist to help people, it just turned out that people needed my help in a more practical way.” Dean laughs wryly, and the scent of his cinnamon vape smoke fills the little kitchen.
“I guess I can see that.” Seth sets a cup of coffee down for Dean, and sips at his own. “I never knew it got so…bleak out here. When my folks moved to the city, we kind of didn’t look back.”
“You’d shouldn’t forget where you come from, Seth.” Dean takes a long drink of his coffee, and lowers the cup so it hovers over the table, turning it slowly in his hands. “This place might be shabby and falling apart, but it’s still your home.” Seth looks at him dubiously, and Dean shrugs. “It’s nice to be home for the holidays, is all.” He drains his coffee, and stands. “I can probably get the place fixed up today.”
“Do you need any help?” Seth asks, getting to his feet too, but hoping the answer is no. He wants to head to the huge Walmart he saw on his way into the town. He’s not sure what he’s taking from Dean’s comments are what Dean intended, but he’s going to have a tree, and he’s going to have Christmas in this store. It’s gonna be sad and lonely, but it’ll be more like home than his sleekly empty apartment would ever be.
“Honestly, unless you’ve gotten better with a hammer, I think I’ll be faster and safer alone.” Dean laughs, and Seth confesses he’s not improved in the least. So, Dean waves him off, and Seth heads for Walmart.
“I think that’s us.” Dean’s sweaty, and mostly shirtless by the time Seth gets back from his day of Christmas decoration hunting. He’s unfortunately pulling his shirt back on, but Seth’s not going to forget the trimness of Dean’s waist, or the thick carpet of hair on his chest. It’s not the body a teenager anymore, and the update to his fantasies is very welcome. He can imagine his thick thighs wrapped around that tiny waist very easily, and he and rightie will have a lovely time imagining it together. The store looks closer to the way it was. The shelves on the walls are fixed, the standing units are once more whole, he’s even replaced the glass top for the counter.
“It looks great.” Seth smiles at him, and wonders if he offers would Dean stay and help him with the tree. He can’t imagine his high school crush wanting to help him, so he pulls his cheque book from his pocket, and sets it on the counter. “So, how many zeroes?” He chuckles, and Dean looks almost affronted.
“Here, lemme.” Dean takes the pen from Seth, and writes down his price. Seth doesn’t even look at it, he just signs his name, and focusses on trying to not look like an asshole. He thinks he probably looks like an asshole. “So…I heard you’re a model these days.”
“It’s not…I’m not…I’m an Instagram celeb…fitspiration.” Seth can’t look at him, and hopes he hides the wince he makes as Dean snorts dismissively. “I really appreciate your work.” Seth decides that maybe he should just get Dean out of the store, and he can forget this and remember the ripples of Dean’s back muscles tonight instead.
“I’ve never been one for that, you know.” Dean shifts, coming to stand in front of him some more. Seth’s not sure if he’s talking about fitspiration or compliments, but he can’t bring himself to ask. “I’m gonna…” Dean shoves a hand through his hair, and sighs. “I’m gonna be in the bar, come have a drink, hmm?” He flicks at Seth’s hair again, this time a pine needle tumbles into his hand. “It’s not like you’ve got plans, is it? There’s not that many hot guys out here…I should know.” He laughs, and heads for the door. “I hope you stick around for a while, Seth…I…” Dean looks annoyed for a moment, and then shakes his head. “I’d like to catch up with you, you know?” Seth manages a vague smile, and an awkward nod, then Dean’s out the store, and making his way to the bar. Seth decides that he’s not going to examine what Dean said too closely, because it’ll just get his hopes up, and that’s something he doesn’t need.
The Christmas playlist goes on, and Seth puts everything to the back of his mind. He loses himself in memories of his grandparents, and of decorating for Christmas. Memories are so easy to find here, it’s so easy to slip back into thinking of this little store as home. It’s so easy, and so comfortable, and it all makes him wonder how long he can keep being a fitspiration, how long can he keep being the one with the most likes, and comments. His bubble will burst, and then what will he do. Maybe he should take another look at the will, maybe he should put his marketing degree to better use, maybe he should open a store.
Finally, the last bauble is on the tree, the last strand of tinsel is in place, and the final light is positioned. Seth smiles at his hard work, and spares a glance for the town outside the window. He can see the bar where he knows Dean will be. He should have said something years ago. He should have at least said something before he’d paid Dean for his work on the store, but he didn’t and it’s not like Seth’s going to be staying in this small town much longer. He’d like to catch up too, he’d like to see if there’s more to Dean than his fine outer packaging. It’d be nice to have a little of home in the city with him. It’d be nice to come home for more than clearing the place out.
“Ain’t like this is place is home though, huh tree?” Seth mutters to himself, and tweaks the star on top. At that, the lights start glowing, and he stares at them in shock. A hand rests on his shoulder, and then slides down to hold his hand. Dean reaches over, and flicks at Seth’s hair, a puff of tinsel drifts to the floor.
“It could be…home I mean.” He says softly, and tucks the loose hairs behind Seth’s ear. He leans over and presses a kiss to Seth’s lips. “Merry Christmas.” Seth’s lips tingle when Dean pulls away. His fingers dart up to touch them, expecting them to be too warm, or too cold, something unusual at least, but instead they feel normal. “Hey?” Dean taps him on the nose with a silly quizzical look, and Seth laughs at him.
“Hey.” He laughs gently, and wraps his arms around Dean’s neck. “Merry Christmas.” He leans forward to kiss Dean again, then he rests his forehead against Dean’s, feeling the warmth of the other man’s arms around his waist, feeling the warmth of being home for the Holidays.