The Enforcer

Hey guys! So Deans had a bit of a revamp, still the same kinda grouchy guy. But his backstories changed a little! So let me know if you’d like to report or want anything new if we haven’t before!

frankie: can i do the tattooing? please? i already own a tattoo gun.

frankie: there's a bar in brooklyn like 2 blocks away from mine, meet you there?

dean: maybe if you ask nicely.

The gym was a place that Owen frequented quit often. For him, there was something that was relaxing about working out. It was a way for him to get a lot of stress of long shifts at the hospital out of him and he just liked being active, the feeling he got when he was done with a good work out. Never once did he have any troubles at the gym, it was the same one he went to whenever he decided to workout. So as he sat down on the weight machine, he didn’t notice the man that was in front of him shouting. It wasn’t until the movement of the two bodies that caught his attention and he looked up at the two men, wondering what the hell was even going on. Owen was just about to lean down and grab his phone from the floor to ask what happened when the man in front of him started to sign. It always took him by surprise when people signed to him, especially ones that could hear. Sign language wasn’t all that widely known by many people, which Owen had quite a few opinions on if he was being honest. Something he thought should be taught in schools. With a smile on his lips, Owen brought his own hands up. “It’s okay. I don’t even know what happened.” Owen admitted with a slight look on his face. “If I had to guess, he was saying something to me?” From what he could gathered, it seemed likely. “Thank you for stepping in. Means a lot.” Owen signed a bit slow for the other, not for sure how much he knew or how easily he would be able to follow along with what Owen was signing. 

Normally one to make eye contact in conversations Dean really had to concentrate and made sure he was focused in the mans hands. He knew the man was most likely signing slower for him and he appreciated that as he was mostly keeping up. He nodded before siging “He was saying you used something he was using. But I saw him, and he was no where near it before.” He shook his head and added, “he’s just -“ his hands halted for a moment as he realised he didn’t know the sign for the word he wanted, his brain started racing until it clicked and instead he spelt it out in sign, “E-N-T-I-T-L-E-D” he was going to have to thank Gus. He was definitely a great teacher, and this was the first time Dean had really had a conversation like this not in a classroom. “But it was no problem. I’m Dean by the way.”

He didn’t know what to say when Dean called him ‘the best’. He surely wasn’t, but hearing something like that… it tightened his chest and his confidence both boosted tenfold and shriveled up on the ground. Because hearing such high praise when he had only taught for a year, and from someone so accomplished… he shifted in his seat, shaking his head. “I don’t make it easy. I’m just touched when people say nice shit, alright? And it’s my first year and I never expected to have students who… care, or want to do nice things for me. I dunno.” He felt like he sounded stupid. Instead he perked up at Dean’s comment about his neighbor. “Really? That’s amazing! You’ll be fine- why would you be scared? If you ever forget a word, you can finger-spell it. But I think you’ve got the general idea of how conversation signs work. You’ve worked really hard.” He smiled softly. “Well, you tell them that, because I barely got the okay for the first class.” He sighed. “They don’t even hire interpreters for the lectures. Half the time, I just volunteer. Otherwise our Deaf students wouldn’t be able to understand. It’s bullshit.” He shook his head, looking down at the big box of cookies, closing it once Dean took a few. “…Coffee?” He asked suddenly, standing up.

“Riiight,” he drew the word out and nodded along, “of course you don’t make it easy.” He smiled at the encouraging words, he knew this was his teacher who would most likely always support him, but knowing he was more of a friend it seemed to mean just a little bit more when Gus said that. “It’s stupid they don’t, I mean how do you expect people to learn if they can’t even fully comprehend? Is there job as a college not to teach people? Sorry, I don’t mean to trash talk your work place.” He smiled, “oh god yes please, just black.”

Honestly, listening to Dean hum-and-haw over the thrift shop they’d just entered brought a broad smile to Paris’ face. Their differences were always obvious, but especially as soon as they entered somewhere like this together. While Paris expelled an excited gasp at the bedazzled pink top, Dean looked as though he could cry from exasperation at any moment. “I mean, maybe not as a whole outfit, but statement pieces are important, Dean!” She plucked the top from the hanger and held it up - it was obviously for a little girl, but fabric was fabric. “Like, one of your boring suits with this as a pocket square, maybe poking out of your sleeves a little? That’s cute.” But she put it back, begrudgingly. “I’m getting you something, so give me colors that I’m allowed to explore. And you can’t say black, gray, navy blue, or beige.”

He scowled in confusion, “statement pieces? Why do my clothes need to talk? I can talk my self.” The confusion even laced his voice before he looked at her and raised his eyebrows at the material she had picked up. “If you aren’t going to take this seriously then you may as well just go.” He huffed, before a smile broke over his face, laughing at his own childish behaviour. “But those are all the best colours! Okay okay, how about green, or orange. But not like neon colours but darker.”

frankie: want me to write that down for you, d?

frankie: oi, just getting started, don't wipe me off like that.

dean: we can just tattoo it to my arm. Call it good.

“Don’t go getting any ideas. I need to stop telling people how embarrassed I get from sappy shit. They end up doing it on purpose to watch me go red. But it was very sweet.” He mumbled, looking through his fingers at Dean as the other gave his shoulder a soft squeeze. He shot him a small, shy smile and picked up his own coffee, leaving the box of cookies on the table. “Take however many you want, please. I live alone with limited space and I don’t need the extra cookies tempting me.” Gus teased, sitting back in his chair a bit. He picked one of the oatmeal raisin ones up for himself, bending it until it snapped into two and taking a small bite. He tried not to think too much about being called ‘the best professor there’. That was high praise and imposter syndrome was creeping in quick. “How’re you doing, anyways? You won’t be my student forever, you know. Won’t see you in deep concentration every Tuesday. Until I convince them to let me do an ASL 2, anyways.” He added with a laugh.

“Ideas? Who me? I think you got the wrong guy.” Dean joked while maintaining a mostly straight face with just the edges of his mouth upturned. “I think you make it too easy for them though.” He flashed a proper smile at the offer of more cookies and grabbed a few more, who was he to say no if Gus insisted. It would be rude really...he nodded as he swallowed some cookie and gave a small shrug, “I’m good. Just been working a lot”, he ran a hand throuigh his hair with a sigh, he was tired from work. “Oh and practicing, I think I’m ready to try talking to my neighbour. I’m just a little scared.” He admitted to the other man thinking about how he’d been taking the lessons, but still hadn’t initiated the conversation. “I’m sure you’ll convince them. Like I said earlier, you’re the best.”

“Mainly rock, metal and punk to be honest. I like music that uses real instruments. So bands like The Amity Afflcition, The Color Morale, Bring Me The Horizon, All Time Low and Daugherty.”

“I’ve never had one land on me before, still chasing that high. I had a lady bug once though if that counts?”

“I feel like math is a cop out answer. But I’m pretty good at skating. I’ve been playing hockey since I was about twelve.”

“The smell after it rains, pine trees, freshly mown grass, toothpaste and bacon cooking.”

frankie: nope, bits go after you've bought me a drink at least, i gotta be drunk as hell to not laugh when i see a tiny penis.

frankie: oof. wanna go out for a pint, mate?

dean: bits. after. drinks. better save that for later