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Dean Winchester is Saved. (perditionfree) wrote in valarlogs, @ 2013-12-08 22:14:00

Who: Dean Winchester & Zevran Arainai
What: Dean’s past comes back to haunt him.
When: 12/05 - Thursday
Where: The Garage
Rating: Medium for talk of adult acts between consenting adults on film, but mostly just shop talk about a bike Zev wants restored
Status: Complete




So, gutting and rebuilding the 57’ Chevy was actually the perfect project for Dean to be working through his shit on. Not that he had a lot of shit to work through in the real world, but the dreams, man the dreams were fucking him up. He’d finally gotten to the point where his ass not only made a demon deal, but then him and Sammy were working so fuckin’ hard to get him out of it. Dean already knew how that ended, but that didn’t make the dreaming of it any easier.

Nothing made anything any easier. All the lives saved, sure, that helped, but there were also a crapton of bodies left in their wake. But whatever. Dean’s issues there were pretty much the same as the ones he’d been left with after the war anyway. He’d deal. He’d just finished gutting the truck, and Scud had gone out for lunch (something something demon boyfriend something something, and how the fuck had the guy who killed demons and stopped bad shit ended up all buddy-buddy with the devil and business partners with a guy fucking a demon on regular still messed him up sometimes.) The shop was mostly his, and Dean was absolutely covered with sweat and grease and bits of oil on one of his old grey don’t give a fuck Marine shirts when the door jingle went off.

“Hey, how can I help yo-” Dean started all charming and smiles and then he realized exactly who it was that was in his shop. Fuck. No. No fuck. No none of that. He remembered that guy. It was hard not to no matter how much shit he was pumping into his body at the time to try not remembering it while it was happening. The hell did he even say to this uh, surprise? ‘Hey remember the time I choked on your dick and then bent you over a workbench? Man, those were good times. And then after when you smirked at me while the director was all trying to get me to take that fucking monster you’ve got between your legs? Shit ain’t natural man.’

Instead, he reached back, pulled out his wallet, grabbed a few twenties and offered them over. “Bet lost is a bet lost, man.” Dean didn’t want to remember, but he did. Fuck, he did. At some point, he’d learned to embrace his love of the dick and after what he and Cas did just recently fuck begging bottom boy was the only accurate description.

Zevran raised an eyebrow. Things had happened very fast upon entering the shop, and all of his questions about if they did motorcycle restoration went out the window when he saw someone he’d never expected to see again. “I apologize, but I have forgotten your real name. Do not worry about the bet, bets do not count if you do not remember you made them.” But of course he remembered what the bet was once Dean had brought it up again.

Instead of asking who the guy was right away, Zev smiled the smile that had launched and kept his career high. “How have you been?”

“Take the damn sixty bucks, man. Shit’s not gonna feel right if I know it’s unsettled.” Unsettled, quite a lot like Dean felt looking at the guy. “Dean. And pretty alright. Some ups, some downs, like to say I evened out.” And if the ring on his left hand was saying something, he’d more than evened out.

While he waited for the guy to take his money, Dean pulled up his shirt to wipe his face a little. Friggen grease. It got everywhere. Cas was not going to be pleased with him when he got home if he touched anything other than the shower. “You doin’ okay?”

Sighing, Zev took the money and put it into his wallet. “I only take this with hopes and intentions to siphon it back into your business. Ah, yes. Dean W-something, if I recall.” In the adult film business, one didn’t really call anyone anything but their stage names. Dean had really been Mr. Van Halen for some time in Zev’s head.

He did notice the wedding ring. Grinning, the elf cocked his head to the side and leaned forward to examine the band. “Does that mean what I think it does? If so, congratulations, who are they?”

“Winchester, yeah,” Dean said, putting his wallet back in his back pocket. He looked down at his hand and smiled just a little to himself. “No one you know, I don’t think.” He rolled his shoulders in a lazy shrug. “Pretty sure anyway.” Though the actual answer was ‘mine,’ it seemed a little too sarcastic to make it past Dean’s lips at the time. “Cas.” He walked behind the desk to pull off a picture of his angelic husband he had tacked up there, one of the ones Garcia managed to take on their wedding day. It was one of those soppy intimate even a blind guy could see the love there kinds of things. His Cas. Cas’ Dean. Shit didn’t seem to work any other way.

Knowing that there was a reason why Dean didn’t want to tell him the name of said husband immediately, Zev chalked it up to possessiveness. Dean seemed to be the sort to not get a lot of good luck, and when he did, he probably clung to it. Zev was pretty good with people.

“He is lovely,” the elf murmured. “I am most pleased for you, truly. And you have this lovely shop as well! I am glad you left the fold, as it were, since it seems like everything turned around afterward.”

“Yeah, well...the work made good money, but it really wasn’t something that suited me.” Dean took the photo back and tacked it back where it belonged. It was pretty obvious that he had nothing against people who stayed in it, just wasn’t the career path for him. “Thanks.” He found a rag and wiped his hands off properly. “So, what can I do for you, Zev?”

“I always thought you were not enjoying yourself,” Zev murmured. But that was the past, and Dean was clearly doing something he liked much more. “I was wondering if you restore motorbikes as well as cars. I found an old one that would be lovely if it had some attention paid to it, but sadly, that is not my area of expertise.”

“Yeah, we can do that. Scud’s better at bikes than I am, but I’m sure he’ll be more than willing to take a look at ‘er.” Vehicles were female. Always. “Look, it’s...it’s not that I wasn’t enjoying myself, man. It’s...things were messed up and confusing for me back then. I mean, they still are now, but even more back then.”

Holding up a hand, Zev shook his head. “Your life is your own, Dean, and doing those films was clearly not for you in the long run. I am simply pleased to see that you are happy now. That is what matters. The past is over, and cannot be changed.” Smiling, Zev pulled out a sheet of paper with information about his new bike. “It is a 1953 Indian Chief Roadmaster. The sound guy on my last film did not want it any longer because he did not want to keep up with repairs, so I took her on.”

Dean looked at the paper, reading over all the things that had been done to the bike already and what some idiot thought needed to be done to her. “Yeah, and if he’d gotten her fixed properly, he wouldn’t have to keep up with them so much,” he muttered. He set the paper down. “What’s your budget on this? I mean I can’t promise a lot here, but just from what’s on that paper, your sound guy’s mechanic didn’t know what the hell they were doing.”

He looked over at the screen, punching some numbers in. “You said restore, right? You’re...totally aware that this ain’t gonna be cheap or fast?” Hey, Dean knew that life and he knew there was no way in hell Zev was hurting for money, but that didn’t mean shit when it came to the reality of rebuilding stuff. “Scud’s an artist, though. Seriously. One of the most brilliant mechanics I know. She’ll be in good hands.” Dean probably could have done it himself, but he didn’t want to get his feet wet on a bike like that, and the friggen’ truck was proving to be way more of a timesuck than he ever anticipated.

“I’m aware, yes. She is in awful condition. It took a while for her to get that way, so I assume it will take a while for her to get better.” Zev didn’t care about the money; he wasn’t like some porn stars and didn’t spend recklessly. He’d bought his house and his car outright and lived within his means. The most expensive thing he owned was his damn house, because that’s how he figured it should be. Since he’d grown up in boarding school, essentially an orphan, he’d always realized he shouldn’t count on pocket money. You wanted things, you earned them.

“She’ll be in good hands, man,” Dean said, typing up quick notes for Scud, and honestly, the truck was turning into mostly Dean’s project anyway. It was one of those things he and Scud seemed to be really good at, figuring out without even talking about it who was naturally more inclined to a particular project. Or really, who was being drawn to it or meant for it or what the fuck ever. There was a general belief in Dean about the machine speaking to a particular mechanic, and the truck was definitely talking to him louder than it was to Scud.

“You got any idea when you’ll be able to bring her ‘round?” he asked, looking up at Zevran.

“I can bring her by whenever is convenient for you and your partner, I do not have to film until the third of January.” Even porn stars had families, dammit.

“Cool. Well, Scud’ll be in tomorrow at...say about one? You can meet him and he’ll go over all the details of his once over of what she needs done and any cosmetic changes you’d like made or whatever.” Dean smiled at him. Yeah, this wasn’t nearly as bad as he thought it was going to be initially.

Zev smiled and offered Dean a hand to shake. “That shall work out wonderfully. Thank you, I am sorry in advance if I have made you feel uncomfortable. I know not everyone is as proud of their past work as I am.”

“Nah, it’s fine,” Dean said, shaking his hand. “Just unexpected. Long as you’re not trying to get me back in the business we’re fine.” He winked. “It’s ah...it’s good to see you’re doing well, though, man. If half the guys I’d worked with were as decent as you, I might’ve actually gotten to like it.”

“You’re an adult, Dean, I assume you will do what you wish to.” Dean was an autonomous person, and it didn’t take a mind reader to see how happy he was. This was what he was meant to do. “Well, the business is not for everyone. There was a makeup artist on set the other day who did not realize what sort of film she was doing the makeup for, so I had the director move her to the room furthest away from shooting.” Zevran was just a nice guy, he’d never seen anything wrong with that. Sure, he flirted with everything in the world, but if they said that it made them uncomfortable, he stopped.

Dean smiled as he nodded. “Yeah,” he said softly. “Alright, well I gotta get back to work on this truck, but I’ll see you when you swing by tomorrow with the bike.” No hard feelings, just a Chevy waiting for him to build her a new engine.

“I am looking forward to it. Goodbye, Dean, it was a pleasure to see you again.” Zev bowed a little, as was customary for him in his goodbyes, and left the shop feeling happy for a former co-star, but happier still for the man himself.