Work Text:
It had to have been years since Dean last woke up from an alarm clock going off in the morning. And upon hearing the sound it let off, he realized he hadn’t missed it the slightest bit. It had to have been since he went to the University that he had last heard it in the morning, that had to have been since he was twenty-one. He was now twenty-nine, eight years it had been since the devil called alarm clock had called him in for battle in the morning.
Dean groaned and pulled the sheet over his head as if that would block out the sound, the sun had barely risen for crying out loud. It was too early to get up and start the day. As long as the sun wasn’t up he had no intention on rolling out of bed, and even barely when the sun was up would he roll out. That was asking too much of him.
But Richard next to him moved, carefully climbing out of the bed as if he didn’t want to wake Dean up. Like his loud alarm clock already hadn’t done that for him, the damage had already been done. Dean groaned and shifted from one side to the other, opened his eyes slowly. Yet in the dark it was hard to make out just how Richard was moving. “Why are you getting up?” Dean slurred and he closed his eyes, giving up completely on seeing where the other was going and curled together into a ball. How one wanted to leave the warmth of the bed he didn’t understand at all.
“Some people have to work Dean. I told you that yesterday.” Richard’s voice was rougher then usual and he to still seemed to be drunk on sleep. He smiled a bit to himself, pulling the sheets up to his chin again. Right, work, with that he was happy that he didn’t work at all anymore. And when he had worked he had chosen his own hours even.
Dean snickered a little bit and pulled down the sheets a little bit so he was able to breathe more properly. While he always did freeze at night, that didn’t mean he wanted to sleep under the sheets as if he was an underground sort of animal. That was just suffocating for him. “I know you did, I remember most of last night, Mr. Armitage.” Dean teased, but it wasn’t a full success as he had to yawn. Richard laughed. “What time is it even, for you to be up this soon?”
“A little bit past six, you stay in bed you, do you remember what I told you yesterday?” Richard asked, Dean groaned at the annunciation of the time and then nodded as an answer, though he wasn’t quite sure that Richard would have seen that. “I’m back at five, dinner would be nice then.” Richard reminded him and Dean felt the others fingers stroke over his hair before Richard left the bedroom, closing the door behind him and leaving Dean in the darkness. It took him less then a minute to fall back asleep.
- -
By the next time that Dean opened his eyes again, the sunlight was attempting to get into the room through the curtains. Dean blinked a couple of times and yawned until his vision had cleared and then looked to the alarm clock on Richard’s side of the bed. A little bit past twelve, he had slept for about six more hours. Well, that he definitely felt, and he was sure that he probably was a lot more rested then Richard would be and he had to work. Poor soul.
Dean stretched and turned in the bed, the sheets tangling around his waist in the process. It was nearly twelve thirty by the time that Dean had pulled himself out of the bed and headed to the living room where the cat greeted him. At first, he had no idea what to do. It wasn’t his apartment, and while Richard had said that he was allowed to stay there during the day he still didn’t know what he was allowed to and what he wasn’t, certainly there had to be limits and those he wanted to be aware of.
He turned on the television, and sat in front of machine for two hours before he finally started to get moving, mainly because all the arguments on Top Model was starting to drive him a little bit insane. With that he set direction to the kitchen, the cat following him by his heels.
“Let’s see what you will be able to offer us then.” Dean hummed a little bit to himself and pulled open the fridge, frowning at the lack of contents in it. He was supposed to be making dinner based on all of that? There wasn’t even enough food in there for one person. Dean sighed heavily. This would turn out to be a challenge.
But Dean had no intention of making a dinner based on a little bit of lettuce, some tomato, some cheese and some ham. That wasn’t even enough for a proper Salad! Not to mention, he wasn’t fond of neither cheese nor ham, and just eating lettuce and tomato was not something he had planned to do. He would have to go out and get them some food from a store, and Richard hadn’t even left him a key or anything so he would have to leave the apartment unlocked, and even for when he would have returned, he would still have to cook and he wasn’t even sure of his skill for that. He sighed heavily. Maybe he would have been better of with a job instead.
Much against his will, Dean closed the fridge and went to pull on his shoes so he could get them some more food for as far as his budget would allow him.
---
There was rain hanging in the sky, and Richard was debating if he was supposed to take that as a sign. Good or bad, Richard didn’t know yet, but it could mean both. It had been raining when he first had let Dean into his apartment, he remembered that much and now when he thought about it, Dean was the first person he could classify as a friend ever since coming to New Zealand. He didn’t take James in account with this, they shared a work place, and they were work partners as well.
But rain was most often seen as something negative, as sadness and darkness and all of that could result with a completely looted apartment by the time he would come back home. If it remained home so to speak. To jump on a plane flight back to London with a middle stop somewhere in China to get some hours adjusted was tempting. Then from London back to Leicester. A week ago he would have jumped on a plane back home and he wouldn’t have looked back.
But now? Now with Dean in his apartment and hopefully making dinner? He wasn’t so sure anymore if he was able to do so, he felt responsible for the other which was the stupidest thing Richard had done in his entire life, if he was allowed to say so himself. Dean was what? In his late twenties early thirties? At that age you were fully capable of taking care of yourself and didn’t need to have anyone else looking after you.
But yet, Dean had his problems, and Richard wanted to help him with that. He might see Dean as a friend now, but he had only seen the other in a handful of moments and most of them had been bad. The first time Dean had begged him of money, making obscene suggestions while doing so. He had invited him in and the other had been far from social, stealing of him when he left, the third time he had been so high that he wasn’t aware of anything and had spoken to the cat for hours. It wasn’t until yesterday that he considered the other to be somewhat normal. What state would he find him in when he returned? Maybe the rain was a bad sign after all.
Richard sighed and looked down to his papers again. With all of that in mind he was unable of focusing, and the itch his hands proved to be more of a distraction above anything. But itching meant healing and he didn’t want to keep his palms completely scratched up either. Yet the itch was driving him so insane that he occasionally had to interrupt the little bits of work he had to do and press them down on the desk, the pressure easing it a little bit.
But now he was staring out of the window again and looked up to the sky, to the darkening clouds in the sky. So deep and sunk away in thought that he hadn’t noticed James getting up from his desk and headed over to Richards, dropping a heavy file on his desk which landed with a thud. The thud made Richard flinch and drop his pen to the floor. He sighed heavily and glared to James. “Christ James, that wasn’t needed now was it?” Richard growled, pushed his chair back and picked up the pen from the floor.
“Well, if you had noticed me before, then you wouldn’t have jumped like that.” James said, put his hands on the desk and leaned in. “What’s clouding your mind like that? You’ve been looking out of the window for the past half hour, and so far no bird has flown into the window yet. So what are you thinking of then eh? Inform me.” Richard shook his head.
“No, nothing of your concern.” Richard put the pen down on the desk and rubbed his face with his hand. Then he glanced to his watch. Ten more minutes and then he would be able to leave. All the better then, he was starting to get hungry and he wanted to make sure that his apartment was left untouched.
“Oh man you are quite grouchy aren’t you?” James said, laughed and pulled his own chair closer to Richard’s desk and leaned in. “And for your information, you don’t really look sick to me, what did you do with your hands?” James asked, switching topics in a second.
“I fell, that’s all.” Richard huffed, putting his hands under the desk so James wouldn’t stare at them anymore. James rolled his eyes and looked away. “Hey…” Richard said simply and leaned over the desk a bit more towards James. “If I leave now, could you cover up for me? I have to check something at home, my cat uh… my cat is sick. I just, want to make sure she’s alright, you know?”
“Your cat…?” James asked, raising his eyebrow a little bit as he spoke, a grin spreading over his face. “Sure thing, you go home and check up… your cat. Little kitty cat.” James chuckled and pushed himself away from the desk, rolling over the floor with his office chair. “As payment, I’d like to meet this pussy cat of yours.”
At that, Richard flushed red and grabbed for his bag. “Dick.” Richard hummed under his breath and stood up. James just laughed and waved to Richard as he left the office. Out of the building, Richard was caught slightly off guard by the cold air. But he just closed his sweatshirt a little bit more and headed straight back home. Curious to see if everything would still stand by the time he had arrived.
The apartment building was still there, much to his delight. And the apartment hallway was not wrecked, and the door was still as locked as it had been when he had left it. So he pulled out his key and unlocked the door and stepped inside, directly hearing someone moving about in the kitchen and a radio play in the background.
Richard put down the bag by the door and hung up his jacket. He could hear some faint humming in the background and it brought a smile on his lips. Setting direction to the kitchen, he made sure he had made as little noise as possible on the way.
Dean was with his back turned to Richard, leaning over the table and flipped through a magazine. He even was wearing an apron that Richard wasn’t even aware of that he had. “You seem to be doing alright.”
Dean screamed. Dean screamed out and Richard flinched back as Dean in shock twisted around the table and faced Richard, eyes open in horror and a hand pressed against his chest. But the second he saw that it was Richard, he started grinning and started laughing. “You terrified the shit out of me!” Dean shouted to him and Richard started laughing.
“I thought you would have heard me when I came in!” Richard managed to say in between his own laughter. Dean shook his head, leaning against the chair and still grinning widely.
“No, I hadn’t, I really hadn’t, I was listening to…” Dean nodded over to the radio. “Lady Gaga so it seems. But she’s sassy, I like Lady Gaga.” Dean confessed and straightened up himself, going over to the counter and turned down the volume to the radio down for a bit. “Do you like Lady Gaga?”
“I barely listen to music Dean, so I’m not going along to pay attention to Lady Gaga, but I have heard her. She definitely is better then that Nicky... Thing.” Richard pulled out one of the chairs and sat down.
“Nicki Minaj?” Dean questioned and turned around, now when Richard got a better look of the other he just confirmed that he was indeed wearing an apron that Richard didn’t remember owning. He frowned but Dean took no notice. “I tried to make some Lasagna, followed a recipie in a magazine that I got when I was out for groceries. Had to leave your door unlocked because I didn’t have a key. Anyway, I did my best but I can’t promise a fascinating result. And I got us a bottle of wine to, to get drunk on. Cheap red wine, do you drink red wine?”
“I drink almost any alcoholic beverage.” Richard confirmed, Dean chuckled at his use of words and kneeled down in front of the oven. “Where did you get the apron? I don’t remember owning one.” Dean laughed and looked over his shoulder.
“I got it with the magazine, it was a gift, nicely folded together for me.” Dean stood up and turned to Richard, flattening the apron out so Richard had full view of it with its plastic flowers printed on it as well as the logo of the magazine printed across his chest. “Tell me, do I look nice?” Dean asked and spun around, Richard chuckled.
“You look awful, if I’m to be perfectly honest.” Richard confessed with a small smile. Dean waved with his hand as if to dismiss him.
“Well Mr. Armitage, what do you say? Shall we pour ourselves a glass of that cheap wine as a drink? Dinner will be ready soon, after that we can get drunk on the bottle.” Dean suggested and clapped his hands together. Richard couldn’t help it, he smiled at the thought of it and nodded.
“You open the bottle Mr. O’Gorman, and I shall fetch us some proper wine glasses.”
- - -
Dinner had turned out much better then Dean had expected. He knew his skills for cooking weren’t all that good and that mostly he forgot one or two ingredients while cooking which made dinner taste completely different from what it should taste like. But the Lasagna had been a success and Richard had enjoyed it. The only thing that they didn’t like was the wine, but they weren’t in the position to complain about that, the bottle had barely cost five dollars so one couldn’t expect quality.
Richard told Dean a bit about his job, what he was doing and what happened during the day, but Dean had to admit, it sounded like the most boring thing he’d ever heard and that he would die if he would have Richards job and that he couldn’t understand how that had been his dream job. Richard had only laughed in return and asked what Dean had used to work with, which made him feel silent.
“Well…” Dean murmured and looked down to his hands who held the bottom of the wine glass. They had started to tremble again and he didn’t want Richard to notice. The thought of excusing himself and going to the bathroom to take some more of Richard’s painkillers like a week ago had occurred to him, but he just hadn’t done it yet. So he just held the glass a little bit tighter and smiled to Richard. “I used to be a photographer.”
“A photographer huh?” Richard said, then brought his glass of wine up to his lips and took a small sip. Despite it being a bad wine he had still insisted on drinking it calmly and tasting it properly which Dean didn’t understand. Even Richard had complained that Dean didn’t drink to taste it, that he just gulped it all down. “What did you do then? Did you do passport photos and weddings and that kind of stuff or?” Richard asked, and for a moment Dean wondered if he asked it all due to politeness or if he was genuinely curious.
“I had a little gallery, and I took pictures of what I felt like and I put it up in the gallery, whatever I felt like really.” Dean raised his shoulders a little bit in reply. “Last exhibition I did before I stopped was eh, was about the Vietnam war.” He kept his gaze on the wine glass, slowly spinning it around on the table.
“Why did you stop?” Richard asked carefully on a low tone after a minute of silence, almost as if he wasn’t sure if he should ask the question. And in all honesty? Dean wasn’t sure if he was okay with Richard asking such a question like that. But in the end he decided to suck it all up.
“I met someone when I was, twenty-three I think, maybe twenty-four. I was just out of college and, and I met someone. I met him, you know when you’re younger and you think you’ve met the love of your life?” Dean asked, Richard nodded, Dean took another swig of his wine. “Well that was what it was like for me, I met Matthew and I knew straight away that I shouldn’t be with him, that he was bad news but I was so in love that I looked past that you know?” Richard nodded again, Dean fell quiet and looked down to the table, trying to pick the right words now. “And, Matthew had some bad habits that he wouldn’t break. I had been smoking pot during college so I wasn’t really that much of an angel either, but he got me trying the stuff he was taking.”
“Did he make you try meth?” Richard asked, if possible on a more careful tone then earlier. Dean shook his head.
“No, I dove into that on my own. He made me try coke. And you know, I was slightly in the art business I had seen it happen before but never touched it if it wasn’t pot you know? It’s different when you’re in love with someone, harder to say no, they are more convincing then a stranger trying to get you hooked. So, I started it, I got stuck and a couple of months later we sold the gallery and my camera in order to be able to keep up with it. That’s why I stopped.”
Richard seemed speechless and Dean looked down to avoid his gaze. Another swig of the wine was taken and the glass was empty. Richard cleared his throat and took the wine bottle again, pouring Dean’s glass half full with the dark red liquid and topped up his own glass. “I can understand that Dean, I really do.” Richard smiled weakly, but Dean was still looking down to the table and paid no notice.
“What do you say Mr. O’Gorman, how about we clean this mess up and move to the living room, settle with some movie on tv and the rest of the wine for the remains of the evening, shall we?” Richard then continued as casual as possible and stood up, picking up his plate and Dean’s along with him. Dean looked up to him, slightly surprised that he didn’t have any more questions about the matter. “And we can get drunk on that bottle of yours to.” Dean smirked.