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It's Friday around 8 p.m. and Dean is lying on the sofa with nothing to do but contemplate his miserable life. When he came from New Zealand for university, he thought...well, he doesn't exactly remember what he thought, but he certainly expected more than spending his Fridays alone in baggy sweatpants and his oldest Smashing Pumpkins T-shirt of that sad greyish hue - the one that can only be achieved by years of alternating washing it too much and not washing it enough.
He refuses to watch the TV, so the only form of entertainment left is his mobile phone. So he's playing one of the two games on it - Temple Run. Fucking Temple Run. He could have been playing something much more interesting, maybe some nice MMORPG, if only his housemate Aidan weren't a complete moron. Unfortunately, he is a moron and a few hours ago, he managed to destroy the router by his DIY attempt to fix it. (Dean also suspects Aidan is behind his laptop's recent breakdown, but he has no direct evidence. At least until his laptop is being repaired.)
Still, Dean reassures himself, it could be worse. He could be playing Angry Birds (which just happens to be the second game on his phone). Temple Run is fine. He doesn't need internet. Besides, it's not like anyone would actually talk to him on Facebook. None of his exactly 97 friends.
Most of them are probably out with their friends, having fun, drinking, talking, dancing... It's the kind of things Aidan does with natural ease. (Maybe it's a compensation for the lack of repairing skills? But that would mean Dean must have some amazing hidden talent, because he can't repair things and he can't interact with other people. There must be something he can do. Flying? Using telepathy? Cooking? Maybe his talent actually is having no friends. The thought worries Dean a little.)
While mentally comparing his and Aidan's life, Dean's stomach makes a noise that reminds him of that documentary about elephants he once watched on Animal Planet. Unfortunately, the fridge is empty. Aidan was supposed to do the groceries, which he obviously didn't. Eventually Dean finds something that looks almost like a frozen pizza in the freezer. Dean considers his hunger and decides to eat it despite his instincts warning him about any contact with it. Even if it actually is a frozen alien, it can still be edible, Dean concludes.
In the end, he only takes a few bites and then throws it away. It definitely tastes alien, but then again, that might be because Dean forgot to remove the plastic wrapping.
He decided to wash away the awful taste with the last can of Coke from the fridge, but as he grabs it, he realises it's empty. He goes to wash his teeth instead and wonders what his chances of killing his housemate and not getting in the jail are. Everything Aidan does could be considered a mitigating circumstance. Dean isn't entirely sure why he lives with him. (Besides the fact that he has to because the rent is quite expensive for one person.) Sure, Aidan can be nice and fun and gods, he is <em>incredibly</em> handsome (which makes Dean pardon him a lot of his faults) and intelligent... But too often, he is just lazy and reckless.
Dean returns to the living room and he's in the middle of his thoughts about his terrible friend when he hears a noise behind him and turns around. It's only half past nine and Dean is surprised to see Aidan that early. He doesn't usually arrive until the next day - if he decides to show up at all.
"Deeeeaaaanoooo," exclaims Aidan loudly.
"You're drunk," Dean states the obvious.
"Yes. Um, no. No. Deeeeaaaanoooo!" Aidan stumbles closer and sits beside Dean.
"Yeah, that's my name." Dean watches Aidan sit a bit closer than necessary and lean even closer. His eyes are unfocused, but - as much as Dean tries to deny it - he still looks wonderful. Not that he would ever tell that to anybody. Aidan is insufferable enough without knowing about Dean's crush on him. He would tease him about it, Dean is certain.
"Deano," says Aidan again and when Dean turns his head, he realises just how close they are.
"Wha - eh, what?" asks Dean and hopes that Aidan doesn't notice his awkward hesitation.
"Hello," whispers Aidan. Dean feels his warm breath on his cheek. He also feels the faint scent of alcohol. And then, Aidan's lips interrupt any coherent thoughts.
Their kiss is clumsy, main reasons being the amount of alcohol and Dean's paralysation due to the shock.
Aidan shifts and slips a hand under Dean's shirt. Dean's breath hitches as the cold fingers trace lines on his skin. Suddenly, he feels drunk, too. Aidan's other hand is on his thigh and is steadily moving upwards. Aidan breaks the kiss to whisper "Dean," in a strangely deep voice while his long fingers find their way into Dean's boxers. The cold touch on his hipbone surprises Dean and he suddenly becomes aware of the situation.
"No," he says, but the faint word gets stuck in his throat. He tries again, more confident this time. "Aidan, stop."
"Why, come on Deanooo," Aidan blurts out, both his hands still on Deans body. Dean catches his wrists firmly and pulls away.
"You're drunk, that's why! You should go to sleep," says Dean coldly, without wavering. It still surprises him when - without saying a word - Aidan gets up and actually walks to his room.
Dean grabs his phone again and hopes Temple Run will explain what just happened.
---
At some point, Dean must have fallen asleep, because he finds himself lying on the sofa, his right leg asleep and his phone on the ground. He glances at the clock on the wall - it's roughly three in the morning. He sits up and stretches his back with a satisfying crack. Just when he picks up his phone and puts it on the coffee table, he glimpses Aidan standing in the doorway.
"Hey," he manages as Aidan walks closer.
"Are you angry with me? I mean, you have every right, it was really stupid from me and I'm really sorry and I'm also sorry about the wifi and I know I'm a real jerk sometimes and-"
"I'm not angry, you twat," Dean interrupts Aidan swiftly. Frankly, he is a bit angry, but Aidan looks really sorry and even quite sad. And he can't stay upset when he sees that absurdly attractive face.
"Oh, come on, Dean, don't be so mean," says Aidan, but his lips curve into a tiny smile.
"That's the best rhyme you can do? Are you sure you're studying literature? Because that was terrible, honestly," Dean laughs and feels a lot better when he sees Aidan laughing with him.
"Can I hug you?" Aidan asks as he sits down next to Dean.
"Sure, Shakespeare," snorts Dean and wraps an arm around Aidan's shoulders.
Aidan's lips brush against his ear when he asks "And can I kiss you?"
Dean's heart beats much faster that he would like to admit. He feels a little embarrassed when Aidan laughs, sending puffs of warm air in Dean's hair. He places a hand on his chest lightly.
"Shall I take this as yes?" he asks.
Forgetting how to speak, he nods awkwardly and then Aidan kisses him, short and soft. His lips are dry, but it feels wonderful to Dean.
When they part, Aidan yawns.
"You should get some sleep," says Dean when he finally finds his words again.
"So should you," mumbles Aidan against his neck.
But Dean feels...drunk? High? Certainly not tired. He doesn't want to sleep and when Aidan lays his head into his lap and falls asleep almost immediately, he stays awake. Occasionally, he threads his fingers through Aidan's hair until the regular pattern of Aidan's soft breathing eventually lulls him.
In the short seconds before falling asleep completely, he contemplates his life again. It doesn't seem so miserable after all.