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evans-gallery · 6 days

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“The right thing to do”

Chapter one: The benefactor.

˗ˏˋ symbols: 10168

—characters: Kurt Kelly, Jason Dean.

•tags: alcohol mention, smoking mention, age up, AU, OOC.

《It's been a long eight years since they last met. Everything has changed dramatically, they are completely different people. Nevertheless, fate brings them together and from then on, a series of crazy events begins that radically change their lives.》

(read until the end, please)

The moon was turning amber through the whiskey at the bottom of the bottle. There were almost no stars visible in the anthracite sky due to the fact that their light dimmed next to the street lamps. The sound of shuffling soles made by the swaying silhouette cut through the dead silence of the night. A drunken man trudging along the sidewalk whistled a tune to himself, occasionally pausing to burn his throat with alcohol again and start whistling even louder.

Jason violated the open container law with the carelessness of a child, which he sometimes became when he was drunk. All his life, he naively believed that no justice or karma would overtake him. For the last five or six years, his life has been a complete stagnation. There was no money at all, and he lived in proud solitude. No wife, no friends, however, he did not need them. He was not capable of love and close relationships.

He looked appropriate to his lifestyle — the old coat was all in holes and the lining was all torn, and there was not enough money to fix it, and even more so to buy a new one, or he simply did not consider these expenses necessary (after all, it was much more important for him to get drunk to unconsciousness). Jason didn't spend much on razors either, he bought one and that was enough for him. His chin was covered with fine, coarse stubble, but this did not cause any discomfort, he was strangely satisfied with his slovenly appearance. He was still thin, tall and pale, his eyes and cheeks were sunken from thinness, his skull seemed to shine through the skin. Green eyes have dimmed, the skin has turned slightly yellow due to smoking and other loads on the liver. However, seeing such a person on the street, you can't say much good about him.

Suddenly, someone's hand closes on his shoulder and the man stumbles a little. Dean looks up in shock, his legs buckling as he meets the stern gaze of someone's icy eyes. A uniformed policeman suddenly stopped him in the middle of a deserted street. He said in a metallic voice, "Sir, you are drinking alcohol in a public place and violating the Open container act. I have to arrest you."

Jason is speechless. "How did I get caught? Spotted? What does he even want from me?" he thinks, his lips parting in surprise. There is a desire to justify himself or rush away, but the alcohol that hit his head seemed to freeze him to the spot. "Excuse me, can you hear me?" the officer repeats, slightly shaking the intruder by the shoulder. His voice seems terribly familiar to Dean. He looks at the policeman's face again, trying to find certain features in his far-from-sober memory. The lantern dimly illuminates the whole picture, but Jason manages to get a good look at his face. A dim light illuminates the exterior of the person standing in front of him.

He wasn't exactly a boy, but he wasn't any older than Dean himself, about the same age as him. His chin was pointed, his nose straight and slightly sloping. The man drew his wide eyebrows together and looked down at the troublemaker with piercing blue eyes that seemed to glow in the dark. His dark brown hair was neatly combed, as is often the case with police officers, especially young ones. And suddenly Jason seemed to sober up in an instant. He realized where he could have seen that face earlier. His withered lips break into a smile. "Why are you looking at me and smiling? Is there something funny painted on me?" The policeman says, looking at the citizen in his hands with disbelief. Other man snuggles closer to him, almost too closely, the cop winced slightly from the sharp smell of fumes that hit his nose. "Kurt! Wow! You didn't recognize me, did you, huh? And I don't recognize you either!" Jason said happily, patting him on the shoulders as if they were old friends.

The men really knew each other, went to the same school, but their relationship was strained. They can be compared with spring and autumn, with ice and heat, with being and oblivion. In general, they were completely opposite to each other, nevertheless, sometimes a spark ran between them, like tension before a thunderstorm in the middle of a field. You can't hide from it anywhere, you can't hide from it under any tree because it takes too long to run through the field, you just have to wait for a fatal blow.

"You?" said Kurt, contemptuously curling his lips. His brows drew even closer together. Rolling his eyes, he released Jason from his arms, pushing him away, the man was annoyed by this excessive clinginess. The policeman sighs, but does not hesitate and pulls Jason into the car with him, putting him in the front seat. "Hey! Can't you be more gentle?", Jason mumbles indignantly when the door of the police car slams shut. Kurt is silent and gets behind the wheel. A minute later, they started to drive.

Dean mutters something unintelligible and viciously to himself, indignant that he was detained for such a seemingly trivial matter. But because of his negligence, he forgot to wrap the whiskey bottle in a paper bag. If he had done that, he would not have been detained, although he could not say that he was not happy to meet Kurt. It will certainly brighten up his evening.

To calm down, Dean decided to smoke, he wasn't completely sure if it was possible to do it in the car, but he didn't care. Pulling a cigarette out of the pack, the man put it between his lips, but did not light it. Instead, he secretly stared at Kurt, watching his features disappear into the shadows of trees and arches, then illuminated by the light of lampposts. For a minute, Jason even forgot that he had a cigarette in his mouth, but remembering this, he flicked a lighter, lit it and took a drag, releasing blue smoke into Kurt's face. Kelly didn't even flinch.

However, after a second, Kurt, without taking his eyes off the road, reached out and snatched the cigarette from the man's fingers, throwing it out the window with some kind of irritated and twitchy move. "Don't smoke in the car," he said through clenched teeth. There was only a hoarse chuckle in response. Jason rested his cheek on his palm and leaned his elbow on the panel, not taking his inquisitive gaze off Kurt, watching him slowly smolder under the mockingly piercing flames of his eyes.

The journey along the empty road took them at most twenty minutes. Kurt got out of the car and released the prisoner, both headed for the door of the police station. It was dead quiet inside, with only a dim yellowish light burning in some of the offices. Entering one of these offices, enclosed by frosted glass, Kurt sat Jason down on a table and sat down opposite him, pulling out some forms from piles of papers.

— Full name, date of birth. — he said monotonously, raising his pen over the paper.

- what?.. Are you serious? Dean looked like he couldn't believe his ears. He's really being processed!

— Full name, date of birth. Kurt repeated louder, raising his stern gaze to the detainee.

— I will not give any information about myself without the presence of a lawyer. The corner of Jason's mouth curled up smugly. Kurt swore in a whisper, but he did it so quietly that even in the ringing silence it was impossible to make out what he said, only the movement of his lips indicated that he had said something. This already completely liberated the offender, he almost threw his legs on the table, but he calmed down in time and simply took a more open pose, throwing his arm over the back of the chair, grinning at the officer. — and you've got older, oh, I mean mature. You are a real man now. —Dean said, staring with slitted eyes at the servant of the law sitting in front of him.

— Yeah.— Kurt replied shortly, without taking his eyes off the papers, not because he was busy, but because he did not want to meet that sparkling self—conceit gaze.

— Ri-ight.— Jason drawled, tapping his fingers on the table and looking around as if in thought. After looking around the office, he turned his gaze to the cop. —You've settled in well, haven't you? All decent, businesslike, downright benefactor. — Kurt didn't say anything, just sighed and looked down. — You do all kinds of justice here. And who did you were? — There was a tense silence after this question, with only Kelly's ragged breathing breaking it. — No, really, who did you were? Oh, I'll remind you of that. — Jason sat up straight in his chair, folding his hands on the table in a lock, leaning slightly forward, boring into an old acquaintance with his gaze. — You were a narcissistic, thoughtless, weak-willed and completely dishonest creature. That's what you really are. — Dean stated accusingly in a half-voiced tone. — And now you're like a lamb of God, wow! — He threw up his hands and laughed. Then his face resumed its most serious expression.

— And what is it all about? — Kurt asked, his voice trembling slightly in the middle of the sentence, which betrayed his excitement.

— About why the hell do you have the right to treat me like that, since you are no better. — The man said sarcastically through his teeth. — Do you think I've forgotten everything in eight years? Think again. I know what you can be, don't pretend to be a sheep, I know what kind of predator is under this rune. Oh, how you rode before your father! How you groveled! You're so good and respectable, truly a daddy's boy!—Jason accompanied his monologue with active gestures. — And now you're sitting here, scolding me like I'm a little child without a twinge of conscience! And what are you yourself? — The man continued, openly not holding back his laughter. His voice sounded hoarse and raspy, like an inept cello playing. The annoying sound, similar to the driving of a bow against strings from sheep intestines, exasperated Kurt, and even more so the hoarse mocking laughter got on his nerves. — You are a slave of the law, not a servant. — That was the last straw in the cup of patience of the young policeman, he abruptly stood up and slammed his hands on the table, raising his eyes sparkling with anger at Jason.

— That's enough! — His voice echoed through the office. He convulsively crumpled up the papers and threw them into the trash. Then, with two quick steps, the officer reached the detainee, who was still sitting impressively on a chair with a smug smile on his stubbly face, and raised his hand over him, about to hit him, but he stopped himself. He just grabbed the man by the collar and dragged him outside, locking the office with a key.

Outside, standing on the porch of the police station, Kurt took out a cigarette and quickly put it in his teeth. His hands began to pat his pockets in search of a lighter. Unable to find it, the man swore, then he heard the grinding of flint. It was Jason holding up the flame of his lighter to Kelly. He quickly lit a cigarette, took a drag and let the smoke out of his mouth.

—Thanks, Jason, right?—said Dean sarcastically. — Well, be silent. And it looks like I'm going to have to sleep outside. You didn't get me out of prison for long, one of your colleagues will find me anyway and put me behind bars. You are truly a benefactor...— the man complained, crossing his arms over his chest and hunching against the evening cold, even though he was wearing a coat.

— You have nowhere to sleep? Kurt suddenly asked.

— Yeah... You noticed, smartass. — Jason replied irritably.

— Come on. — The policeman dragged him by the sleeve somewhere up the street. Dean almost fell again and reluctantly followed him.

— Where are you taking me? — Dean asked lazily, trying to pull the sleeve out of Kurt's hand.

— To my house. I won't let you sleep outside, I don't want you to have problems for your stupid ass. — After these words, the other man lighted up. The yellowish elongated face was graced with a smile again, if anything could grace it at all. Immediately, he clung to an old "friend", looking at him with eyes twinkling in the light of lanterns.

— Really? You are not lying?

— Why would I lie to you? I'm not you. — Kurt quipped. Jason immediately pouted his lips.

— Why are you hurting me? I promise I won't give you any more worries, honestly!

— Swear? —The young man raised an eyebrow, glancing at his companion as the two of them continued walking.

—I... swear on my mother's life! — Jason said, trying to hold back a smug smile. He knew perfectly well that Kurt had no idea what kind of accident had happened to his mother, so even if he hadn't kept his promise, nothing would have changed. Pleased with his witty answer, the man continued to follow his companion to his house.

Kurt Kelly's apartment was in a very ordinary apartment building. It wasn't too elite, but it wasn't too musty either, a completely ordinary house. Kurt unlocked the door with a key and went inside, Jason followed him. The switch clicked and the hallway lit up with a yellowish light. From the doorway it was clear that the apartment was not expensively furnished, the usual home of a bachelor in his twenties. As the officer took off his jacket and unbuckled his belt, Dean looked around.

He caught sight of a small photo frame standing on the chest. He picked it up and looked at the face of the guy in the picture. The features of his current roommate were immediately recognized. Kelly looked younger, as if he had just left school. The guy was in a military uniform, the background of the American flag was behind him. Jason found the funniest thing about this photo to be the fact that Kurt had his hair cut very short. For some reason, he was amused by the sight of his old acquaintance with a shaved head. The man chuckled aloud. Suddenly, the hand of the man in the photo snatched the frame from the hands of the curious and put it back in place.

— What are your eyes for? — The policeman reproached him sternly.

— Did you serve? — Jason asked, turning to face him.

— Yeah.

— Where?

— In the army.

— Is there a rank?

— Senior lieutenant.

— And how is it in the army?

— Fine. —Judging by such dry answers, Kurt was clearly not in the mood for a conversation. Dean shrugged, "If he doesn't want to talk he doesn't have to," He thought and followed the landlord into the living room.

— You'll sleep on the couch. The officer pointed in the direction of a small sofa standing against the wall. He quickly took out a blanket and a cushion, throwing them on the couch, and after that he went to his room. The young man was terribly tired, his legs and eyelids were filled with lead. Kurt turned the door handle and entered the darkened room. There he undressed, put his things as neatly as he could on a chair next to the bed and dived into the soft covers, sighing wearily.

Meanwhile, Jason was sitting on the couch, looking around. He did not want to sleep on the couch, especially alone, he hated his loneliness, he spent all these eight years all alone, no one wanted to talk and see with him, he was disgusting to everyone. Sometimes he missed the school days when every other girl approached him and asking him out, but alas, his gaze and heart were directed in the other direction. Not that he regretted it now, but it brought him unbearable pain, and now the old wounds and scars of the soul ached again. The man got up from his assigned sleeping place and wandered into the kitchen, which was right in the same room.

Later that night, two or three hours later, Kurt heard some movement outside his door, and then the sound of the door handle turning. The young man's body tensed, it seemed he was ready to jump up and pounce on the intruder of the night's rest. The door opened softly and a drunken Dean stumbled into the room again. Swaying towards the bed, he stumbled on the carpet and almost fell to the floor, but his "friend" managed to catch him by the shoulders.

— What are you doing here? — Kelly mumbled, trying to see Jason's face through the strands of hair that had fallen over his face.

— I've decided... That I don't want to sleep alone. Come on, make room. — He said, pushing Kurt away and falling onto the soft bed, letting out a blissful moan and stretching out on the bedspread like a cat on the sun. His companion sighed heavily. He did not have the strength to persuade and drive Dean away. And even more so, knowing this sly bastard, he will still insist on his own. Like a homeless, he collapsed on the bed in his outerwear and shoes. After unsuccessfully trying to shake him awake, Kelly sighed again, only this time with undisguised irritation, and began to pull off his clothes.

Carefully, he pulled off his coat, then bared his feet and put his legs on the bed, putting the man in a comfortable sleeping position. Kurt's hand was already reaching for the button of his jeans, but he came to his senses and did not take them off, it was too intimate. "He will take his pants off himself, I'm not his parent." Policeman thought.

Now with a calm soul and an unconscious body at his side, Kurt lay down on the bed, turning his back to his "bedmate". He couldn't close his eyes for several minutes. He kept thinking about what had happened. "And why did I really become a benefactor to him? Why did I decide that the right decision would be to take him to my house, and also go to bed with him? Damn him and his drunken ass. How could I do this to myself by letting him into my house? No, it can't be that I... or maybe it is? It was not for nothing that he became so charming and sweet to me all of a sudden, he wasn't like that before... Is he too...No.That's not going to happen. And if it will, I don't know what I will do to myself... I must to drive such absurd thoughts out of my head. If my fears will come true, then shame on me and him. Yes, so be it." Kurt kept saying to himself, sometimes frightened by his own thoughts. Eventually, sleep overtook him. From time to time it seemed to him that someone's cold fingers were touching him, perhaps it was so, but he refused to believe it and decided that he was just imagining it.

Thanks for reading! I hope you liked the first part of my new AU fic. I'm sorry for the mistakes in translation, english isn't my first language.

I also want to thank @genderflu1dwh0r for giving me the ideas and help for writing Jason. They have amazing fanfics and arts too!

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