016. RECONCILE

✎ S1E6 ⇢ ˗ˏˋ PART 2 , 2019

|"THE INNOCENTS"
     "That amateur fuck...does he not know how to set up a fucking set!?" Dean stares, unfazed as Homelander paces back and forth under a barn, muttering to himself about the recent commotion. Someone had left a possession of his that seemed to give him a sense of dred, making him think about his past while setting up for the home set.

He knew what it was, and Homelander told him about it long ago. He didn't want to judge his brother, but he didn't fully understand the feeling he had towards it, even though he was given the explanation.

Dean takes out the cig from his from his mouth, exhaling the smoke that resided in his mouth. Holding it between his middle and pointer finger in his right hand, letting it linger off the side as the remains slowly fall to the dirt ground. Leaning against the wooden pole that held the farmhouse together, he looks to his right towards the painting like scenery. Tress, grass, plants and insects going about with white picked fences, the perfect family yard.

Shifting his weight, he leans on his right shoulder, clearing his throat. "The man just got confused, not everything is perfect John."

Homelander quickly turns his head to Dean and stares with his blue emptiness eyes before speaking. "Well- It's their fucking job. They should know how to do it." He spoke, with his hand gesturing outward.

He looks up and down at Homelander before walking to him. Looking towards nature, Homelander doing the same. Hearing him breathe erratically, he glances before turning away. "World's not perfect John, and it's just a simple blanket from your child years. I don't understand why-"

Homelander scoffs, and whips his head taking some of his blonde hair strands out of his face. "Obviously Dean, you don't understand. You weren't even there..." Dean eyes John, seeing him looking down at the ground with a face fused of anger, sadness and confusion. It was rare to see him like such, most of their moments were full of hatred. He seemed vulnerable right now.

Homelander casually gazes at Dean before catching eye of his cigarette. He raises an eyebrow, face full of disgust. "And since when do you smoke?"

"Uh," Dean quickly puts it off by throwing it on the ground, smashing it with his shoe. He knew John wasn't really fine with it but to accommodate to this sudden vulnerability from him, Dean puts it out. "Until recently-look," Dean started. He places a comforting hand on John's shoulder, his hand touching the cold metal eagle that made John's shoulder stand out more.

Homelander looks to where he put his hand and slowly places his own on top, without looking Dean in the eye.

"People are fucked up, we're fucked up as much as you hate to admit it. And you're Homelander man," He pats him a few times, earning a quick stiff laugh from John. "America's number one and only hero. Who better has earn that title than you huh?"

Dean's choice of words seem to have been working because John's face contorts into a please one. With a smile that stretches as far as it could, the wrinkles by his eyelids  showing. "Dean, I'm sorry about what I did..."

Confusion went through Dean's mind.

Since when is he sorry...?

"What do you mean?"

"I-"

The sudden ping from Dean's phone interrupted the moment. Halting Homelander from speaking more and backing up from Dean.

He quickly grabs his phone from his pocket and puts it on silent. "Sorry, what were you saying?"

"Nothing," Homelander readjusts his stance, placing his hands behind his back. His once blue vulnerable eyes go soulless, his smile retreating, going to a resting position. He looks towards the yard without looking at Dean. "Handle whatever that was, I got the rest from here."

"You- you sure?" Dean grabs him by the forearm.

Homelander crosses his arms not letting Dean touch anymore. "I'm sure, I can handle this interview alone. Like always. Go now Dean, I mean it."

"Okay," Dean turns his back but speaks before leaving. "See you later...John." Homelander simply tilts his head, having heard but chose not to respond. At that, Dean leaves and takes out his phone. He opens his messages and sees he received one from an automatic message. Talking about how his phone bill being paid.

So much for an interruption...

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     Dean Gillman was a predictable man, unlike his equal. Homelander. Though when it came to music, you'd think Billy Joel or something. He'd listen to it daily just from the result of one person, Hughie. He's grown quite fond of it too, but when Dean's in the kitchen. It's a different story.

The sound waves in songs travels differently through his ears, especially adding on his advance hearing. Late 2000s pop music had a weird sensation placed on it, and Dean couldn't explain. It sooths him, weirdly enough, and just because it was a good era for music. The music now just didn't hit Luke it did then.

Poker Face by Lady Gaga was blasting throughout his livingroom and kitchen as he cooks hamburgers for him and him alone. He sways his hips rhythmically along to the beat as he flips the meat on the pan. He starts to sing along lowly as he concentrates on watching them cook.

The erratic sound of his doorbell rings. He looks back and forth between the door and the meat, with uncertainty. "Uh, just a sec!" He beckons through the music. He quickly turns it off from the JBL on his coffee table and sets down the spatula.

Upon opening the door, he finds Hughie yet again at his door. Dean stammers as he feels sweat threatening to fall down his forehead. He swats it away and leans on the door frame. "What- uh, you doin' here?" Dean didn't forget what happened last night. He drunkenly kissed Hughie and left without a reason to give him. He assumes that's what he came for, an apology from him. He scratches his head nervously as he sees Hughie stand still on his porch.

Hughie's eyes lose contact with Dean's as he breaks it every so often. He shrugs with his hands in his pockets. "I don't honestly know- what happened a while back stuck with me. Just need to make sure we're on the same page. You know?" Hughie then tries to keep eye contact with his last word said. Curious as to how Dean'll respond.

"So you wanna talk about it? Look, man," Dean leans against his door frame and slouched with defeat. His sigh matches his feelings of disappointment, much to himself. "I didn't mean to do that, for real. I drank, like a shit ton and the crap I did-"

Hughie places a hand on Dean's forearm and squeezes it with reassurance. "Can we just talk about it, inside where I'm not freezing my ass off?" His added laugh at the end was mostly to keep his timid self in check.

Much to Dean's unexpected reaction from Hughie, he was glad he didn't exactly hate him for it. He gently grabs Hughie's hand off his arm and holds the door more open for him. "Alright man, come on in to me casa."

As Hughie passes by, Dean catches a wiff of his weird scent of Cologne. It wasn't weird to put some on, but Hughie didn't really put it on per say. Dean noticed the first time he met him. Hughie just had a good natural scent to him. He just wonders why he decided now was a good time to apply it to himself. Maybe he was with Annie before he came to his house.

He hums with a satisfied grin on his face as he closes the door. Watching as Hughie sits where he was the last time he was here. Dean lets him be and quickly made his way back to the kitchen. "I hope you don't mind hamburgers. Wasn't expecting company," He says in the silent air that breeze between them. Stealing a quick glance back at Hughie, he saw him petting his dog that sat right by him unexpectedly. He smiles and returns to focus to his food. "Much less you."

"That's alright," Hughie responds. He looks at Dean's back as he talks. How his muscles were seen moving against his tight black long-sleeve shirt. His masculine body more notable in a black shirt, which contradicts itself. Can't really see much when it voids everything to nothing. He gulps and looks away, trying to find something else to fill his mind. "Not really in the mood to eat right now."

"Suit yourself," Dean places the two hamburgers on a plate and grabs two beers in his fridge. "More for me." He mumbles with pure excitement ready to chow down on the real food. He hasn't really eaten a good meal in a while, he deserved it. He thought so himself after what he's been through the past days. He carries the plate in one palm as his other curls around two beers and walks to Hughie.

Who's curiosity got the best of him and presses play on the JBL that rests on the coffee table.

"Wait-" Dean says with haste. Though as fast as his words came to be, Poker Face came fast at the click of a button. Dean says nothing and quietly sets his things down on the table and grabs a hamburger, taking a large bite from it. Filling his mind with the overwhelming taste of a hamburger filled with bacon than embarrassment. He faces towards his tv. Giving a smirking Hughie no amusement to continue to laugh off of.

"Lady Gaga, really?" Hughie asks. He didn't think Dean was capable of liking such a genre, but he has been surprising him lately, either it be good or bad.

"Hey," Dean places the burger down and takes hold of the two beers. He pops them open and holds one out for Hughie. "You got Billy Joel, I got Lady Gaga. Don't crap on my music taste. Take the beer as a gesture of good faith."

Dean swirls the beer around as Hughie stares in confusion. He slowly grabs it and holds it in his hands. "To what?" He asks.

Dean slouches on his couch with an exaggerated sigh. He eyes Hughie, to which he gives Dean a reassuring smile. "Hoping I didn't fuck up what we already got, from the bar."

They both suddenly go quiet, basking in the ever suspense of what Hughie had to say. He himself was questioning it. He actually didn't have anything ready to tell him, he should of planned before hand. He looks at the bottle in his hand, taping it as the sound of Dean eating was barley audible to his ear. The low tempo of Poker Face still playing.

"I'm not mad... Dean." Hughie fortunately found the correct words. He sets the bottle down and turns his body to Dean. His right leg bending and resting on the couch while his left hangs loose off it. His right arm stretching all the way on top of the head rest, barley reaching Dean. His other, picking at the lint that lightly contaminates the couch. "It was a suprise obviously," He laughs unconsciously, trying to ease himself with the situation. "But we're good. Honestly, just give me a heads up next time, yeah?"

Did Hughie want a next time? Not necessarily, but he needed something to say to not feel horrible about it. Maybe there was a slight seriousness to his statement but he shrug it off.

Dean sits idling, consuming the information Hughie gave him. He nods and rubs his now noticeable beard coming through. "Don't think Annie will like that very much buddy." Dean humorously jokes.

"Well I don't care what Annie thinks about us." Hughie regrets saying that statement rather fast. It was like something he knew the answer to which he didn't really. He closes his eyes in embarrassment, afraid of what Dean had to say.

This was unexpected from Hughie, his honesty was not, for one. But rather his untimid response. Hughie's eyes gleam at him differently now, Dean just didn't know what it was.

He swallows the last piece of food in his mouth and sighs. He rest his hand on Hughie's shaking leg which stops automatically right when his hand lands. Dean stares at it for a few seconds as Hughie observes with confusion.

With one last squeeze on his leg, Dean stood up. "I'm gonna get a refill on the beer, need another?"

"Uh- no, no. Im good." As he walks off, Hughie places his head in the crook of the couch. Cursing at himself on what the hell he just said. "Stupid, stupid..." He mumbles.

His sudden ring of hid phone halts his embarrassment. He takes it out and sees it's Butcher. He sighs with annoyance and answers. "Uh yeah?"

"Oi, Hughie! Where are you?"

Hughie turns off the music, to which Dean raises his eyebrows and looks in the living room. He gestures to his phone and Dean nods. He goes to the window looking out to the neighborhood. "I'm at Dean's just- yeah hanging out, talking."

"Finally wanking eachother off now are yah? Well, that's gonna have to wait. Need you here now Hugh, and bring your fuck buddy if ya want."

Hughie groans and shifts on his feet. "I told you, it's not like-"

Hughie stands flustered as Dean hears from the Kitchen, smiling. Hughie honestly forgot Dean had powers at the moment which helps his embarrassment from going haywire.

"Hughie, lad- I'm just twisting your balls. Just get over here alright? We ain't got time bickering around."

At the sound of the the phone hanging up, Hughie continues looking out the window. Dean came around and sat in front of Hughie's view, he has a chair the sat right beside the window. "Butcher?" He asks, knowing the face Hughie gave off.

"You heard that?" Hughie asks. He scratches his head as he scrunches his face.

"Duh," Dean points to his ears. "Advance hearing, remember?"

He laughs and looks down. "Right, forgot." He shook his head and hugs himself. "He needs us, was hoping I had a little more time."

"Dude," Dean stands up and places a hand on his shoulder. "After whatever the shit we got goin' on with Butcher, we can hang out as much as you want. It's not the end of the world."

Hughie nods in understandment. He then looks at Dean. "Hey, uh don't you got to back to vought or something?"

Dean nods and crosses his arms, letting go of Hughie's small shoulder. "Yeah, overstayed my vacation I guess. I'll go soon, don't worry about man," Dean walks to the front door and opens it for Hughie. "Let's go see what the hell this wannabe brit needs."

Hughie laughs and heads out the door. "So am I gonna get to ride in your car or we getting an urber like always?"

Dean locks his door, and smacks his lips. "Ain't nobody getting in my baby, not even you Hughie. I've kept her safe for years."

Hughie raises an eyebrow and flings his fingers between them. "Aren't I the human here? I can't even dent a wall if you paid me."

A contagious laugh came from Dean and he walks down the steps of his porch with Hughie. "Well thanks for letting me know how strong you are. Not many guys confess that."

"Guys confess to you?" Hughie asks, with interest.

Dean does a dramatic zyzz pose. "Have you looked at me lately? I'm practically dripping with hotness. Men and women always want me."

Hughie shakes his head and gets his phone out to get an urber. "Glad to know your ego knows no bounds."

With a fling at Hughies shoulder, Dean stood closer to him. "That's why they call me Rebound, cause I always bounce back."

Hughie gives him a face full of annoyance. "You can't be serious."

Dean playfully grabs a strand of Hughie's slightly curly hair, liking how it flows effortlessly. "Im full on serious bruv."

They both didn't know it but something changed between them that day. It might be miniscule but it was enough to reverse the waters...