Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

How you turned my world, you precious thing

You starve and near exhaust me

Everything I've done, I've done for you

I move the stars for no one

 - David Bowie

Excited squeals and yells echo through the hall, coming closer more quickly than he can process them. Before Castiel is ready, two young boys almost knock him over, slipping on their socks and gripping onto his arms and torso to keep their balance.

"Easy, you two," Castiel laughs softly and holds them up. "Don't fall."

"We won't, I'm Superman!" Alfie grins and sprints away.

"I'm Batman! He never falls, ever." Alfie’s friend yells, and hurries after him.

Castiel shakes his head, smiling, and walks into the kitchen to make a pot of tea. His father always likes to drink tea around four with whichever child is at home. It’s a habit they picked up from Castiel’s brother Balthazar who has been living in London for almost a year now. Today it's just Castiel and Alfie—Gabriel is hanging out with his friends somewhere.

Castiel pours boiling water into the large pot and throws in a teabag. After he sets the table, he walks to the hall and softly knocks on the door of his father's study.

"Dad?" He opens the door. Chuck looks up from his desk, glasses balancing on the tip of his nose, his short, curly hair a fluffy mess. "There's tea."

"Oh, yes. Thanks, Castiel—just a sec…"

Castiel closes the door again. When his father says 'just a sec,' he means five to ten minutes, so Castiel doesn't bother waiting.

He sits at the table with the two younger superheroes, both blowing on their tea and nibbling on their cookies.

"So have Superman and Batman already saved the world?" Castiel asks seriously.

"I'm Spiderman now," Alfie says.

"But the world is saved." Sam nods and takes another bite of his cookie. "Batman can save everyone."

Castiel hides his grin in his cup. "Is Batman your favorite?" he asks.

"Yeah. My brother has all the comics and I can read them if I'm careful. He never lets anyone else read them but me." Sam smiles proudly. Whenever he talks about his brother, he looks proud.

Castiel doesn't know why, but he loves hearing Sam talk about his brother. Sam has the most amazing stories about him saving cats out of trees and teaching Sam how to ride a bike. Sam once said his brother got them out of a dark forest in the middle of the night when it was storming and had made sure Sam didn't get cold. Castiel can't help but believe that Sam's brother is some kind of real superhero, always taking care of Sam, saving strangers from getting hit by a car, tending to Sam's bruises and tears and school grades.

Castiel could only hope to be such a brother to Alfie.

By the time Chuck sits down with Castiel, Alfie and Sam already finished their cookies and tea and gotten back to playing superhero. Castiel talks with his father about his latest book and how Chuck doesn't know whether to kill off a character or not. They talk about school and how Castiel is almost sure he got an A+ on his test today, even though the annoying guy who sits next to him came in late and interrupted his thoughts, ruining his concentration entirely.

"And he just didn't even care, he just… walked in like it was nothing. The teacher didn't even say anything about it, she just nodded at him and said—" Castiel imitates the teacher's high, soft voice. "Oh, Dean honey, take a test with you, alright? You can stay until you're finished. As if it wasn't his fault he was late. He's such an ass…" He sees his father’s look and quickly coughs. "…Butt." He takes a sip of his second cup of tea. "He is, dad, I swear. Plus he dresses like he's some rocker—all leather and smudged eyeliner and band shirts no one’s ever heard of. I mean, Metallica, really?"

Ever since his first year of high school Castiel has disliked Dean, to put it mildly. He has his reasons, but he never told his dad, he never wanted to have all that drama. Now everything Dean Winchester does is annoying, working under Castiel's skin. He can't stand the fact that teachers are as kind to him as they are to Cas, even though Castiel works hard to be good and Dean just… exists, without doing much, and is still liked.

Chuck smiles. Castiel doesn't rant that often, but he does about this guy. Chuck just sits there when Castiel vents, smiling faintly as if he knows more than Castiel.

"Just know that not every eyeliner-wearing teenage guy is immediately wrong, son." Chuck hums.

Castiel quickly shakes his head. "No, dad, I know. I'd dislike him even without the makeup."

Chuck just nods. He looks thoughtful, like he always does when he’s thinking on top speed. As a kid it always made Castiel feel like he did something wrong, now he knows that Chuck is just thinking about how to form his sentences as if he’s writing one of his books.

“Never let yourself be fooled by your own feelings, Castiel, especially since they’re your own.”

Castiel looks at his father as Chuck leaves the room, wondering what he meant by that.

When it's time for Sam to leave, Castiel helps him to his bike.

"Hey," he says suddenly, just before Sam’s about to leave. "Sam, if… next time you come have dinner here, y'know… bring your brother. If he wants to. We all wanna meet the superhero."

Sam nods, smiling with that same proud shimmer in his eyes.

"I will."

Castiel doesn't want to admit it, especially not to himself, but he looks forward to that dinner. He keeps asking Alfie, though pretending to be casual about it, when Sam's coming over again. It takes too long, in his opinion, more than a week. But then, finally, on a Monday night, Sam says his brother will come after his work, and Castiel feels the nerves rising. Why is he so nervous? He doesn't even know what this guy looks like. Sam said he's around Castiel's age, but Cas doesn't dare to ask more. Even though that's about everything he knows, he can't help but think this guy must be stunning, an Apollo, charming smile and polite manners. Everything Sam has said about his brother is that he’s beautiful, good, the perfect guy. As embarrassing as it is, Castiel has a hard time choosing his outfit.

When he is semi-content with his clothes, he goes downstairs to make dinner. His father is away at some kind of interview so it's just Castiel, Alfie, and Gabriel, who is (surprisingly) home for a whole evening.

Castiel has never been jealous of Gabriel’s lifestyle; he gets drunk and stumbles home on Sunday morning, he fails more classes than any of his three older brothers, Michael, Lucius, and Balthazar together, and he doesn’t seem to care either. But he’s loyal to his family, too. He never actually gets into trouble, makes sure he’s home when needed, and is a better brother than Castiel could've hoped for.

"What's cooking, good-looking?" Gabriel suddenly appears behind him as he's busy stirring tomato sauce. "What are you're all dressed up for?" Gabriel puts his arm around his shoulder and he plucks at Cas's shirt. Cas glares at him, looks down at his clothes and acts surprised.

"This? It's nothing."

"You never wear this shirt. The last time you did was when Balthazar's friends stayed over for a week. What were their names again? McFlirty, Mr. Sexypants, Handsome O'Dreamboat…"

"Shut up, Gabriel."

Gabriel playfully ruffles Cas' hair and dances off to set the table.

"Add two extra plates, Sam and his brother are coming over," he calls. Gabriel whistles.

It's annoying because Gabriel is right. This shirt is only for special occasions. It brightens the blue in his eyes, shows his biceps and the slender curve of his hips, especially when he tucks it in like he did now. He'd wanted to wear it every day those guys stayed over, just to impress them. They weren’t impressed, at least not that he knew, but unfortunately Gabriel and Balthazar had noticed and had constantly teased him about it afterwards.

He just really hopes this amazing brother of Sam’s is into guys.

When the doorbell rings, Cas almost drops the spoon in the sauce. He quickly leaves it on the counter and hurries to the hall. He stops at the mirror. With an agitated huff, he fixes his hair which Gabriel just messed up. As he walks over to the door, he double-checks it in the mirror in the hall.

After a deep breath, he opens it, trying to look casual. In front of him is a too-familiar face, the last person he is expecting to see. For a moment, he wants to shut the door and walk away. Cas is staring from Sam to the guy who is supposed to be Sam’s brother and back. He wonders if this is some lame joke, because he can’t believe this guy would even be a relative of Sam’s.

"You?" Castiel says and his eyes squint dangerously.

“Sam!” Alfie doesn’t notice Castiel’s surprise. He rushes past Castiel and jumps up and down around Sam. “Hey, Dean,” Alfie grins at Dean Winchester before grabbing Sam’s arm and hurrying inside.

Dean seems almost as surprised to see Castiel, though it's hard to tell with the eyeliner darkening his expression.

"I thought you knew that Sam's my brother." Dean’s voice is calm.

The corner of Castiel’s mouth twitches.

"No, I did not, or I would have never invited you, Winchester."

Something breaks in Dean's face. Maybe he thought Castiel forgot about their first year, and that he could keep on pretending nothing happened. Maybe he even thought Castiel was scared of him and wouldn't stand up for himself. Maybe he thought he’d won.

Well, he’d been wrong.

"I'll—I'll go." Dean chokes, cheeks suddenly burning red. "I'm picking up Sammy at eight." He stomps away to the low, black car Castiel knows all too well. The rumbling motor is still audible when the car is out of sight.

Cas finally gets to slam the door and he leans his back against the wall. Fuck. How didn't he know? Only now he realizes Sam never mentioned his brother’s name. Even if Cas had known Sam’s brother was called Dean, he would probably not think that Sam's ‘amazing brother’ would be the same person as that asshole Dean Winchester. Cas doesn't believe it. Sam must be wrong; Dean can't be the lifesaving, almighty gentleman that he always raves about. Dean can’t be the real life superhero, the guy with a heart of gold. Not after what happened in their first year.

Shy and nervous, Cas stands against the lockers. He's alone, there's no one here to see him fidget with his phone. He has no idea how this thing works. Maybe someone can help him, but he doesn't dare to ask. It's stupid if you don't know how a phone works when you're fourteen years old. He'll ask Balthazar when he's home. Balthazar never laughs at him. Plus this is Balthazar's old one, so he probably wouldn’t mind helping Castiel out.

With the thought of Balthazar helping him, Cas feels a little better. He still doesn't feel great, though. High school is scary. There’s so many people, and he feels like he doesn't fit in. Most of those people look way older than him, louder and stronger. He still looks like a child, while a few of his classmates look seventeen already, even though they're maybe one year older than him.

He barely says anything in class, quiet and alone. Is this how the rest of his time in high school is going to be? Why does everyone always say that high school is so amazing? They were probably popular, like Michael, Lucius, Balthazar, Gabriel… Cas is going to be the first Shurley who is a lonely, pathetic nerd with books as friends and people laughing when he gets another A+. He’d hoped that high school would be better than middle school.

A sound makes him startle. He quickly puts away his phone and opens his locker, acting as if he's putting stuff inside. It's a guy from his class. One of those guys who look older than fifteen. His hair is blonde and his clothes are dark, ripped jeans and a band shirt with the sleeves cut off.

Castiel can't help but look up when he passes. Instead of ignoring him though, Dean Winchester turns around and looks back. Cas stares. He can't help but stare at the earring on top of Dean’s left ear, the fraying tank top, the hint of daring eyeliner framing Dean's eyes.

Later, his appearance would only get bolder and more punk-rock. Castiel will watch it happen over time. As soon as Dean is old enough, he’ll get tattoos and piercings not only on his ears. He'll wear more band shirts and even more heavily ripped jeans, leather jackets, spiked boots, and sometimes a neon color in the tips of his hair. He will be impossible not to notice.

But now, as a fourteen-year-old, this ear piercing and hint of eyeliner is enough to stare.

"You got a problem?" Dean huffs roughly. A vague scent of alcohol reaches Castiel’s nose. God, does this guy drink? How did he even get that stuff? Is he drunk? He seems sober. Angry, dangerous… but sober. Cas watches Dean rip his locker open and throw its contents into his old bag. The bang of his locker door slamming shut echoes through the empty hallway.

When he looks up, Castiel is still staring, too scared and shocked to look away.

"Fuck off, Shurley." Dean stalks up to Cas and before he knows it, Dean's hand is gripping his arm, rage flaming in his eyes like a storm. "Don't fucking mess with me." He pulls Castiel closer, those eyes sparkling with something Castiel is unfamiliar with, then Dean throws him back against the lockers.

Castiel hits them with an echoing bang. The cold metal collides hard with Castiel’s head, making him dizzy and disorientated. Pain oozes into his body, starting at his scalp. His vision gets blurry and something hot begins to drip from his nose. Castiel vaguely remembers wondering how in the world someone his own age can be so strong as he slumps down onto the floor. His nose is bleeding and his head is pounding. When he moves, he realizes not just his head hurts; there’ll be a bruise on his arm from where Dean grabbed him. His hair feels sticky too, but he doesn’t know if it’s from blood or sweat. When he looks up, Dean has already left.

Castiel doesn't know what he did wrong. Why had Dean done that? Cas knows that for some people, there doesn’t have to be a reason. Dean had acted just like any bully, an arrogant asshole who wanted to show off his strength. To gain respect and power over this small, nerdy boy. But Castiel knew one thing when he came home that day, hiding the dried blood on his shirt from his brothers and father. He's not giving in to this. He's not giving in to bullies again.

And that's what he did. After that day, he changed himself. He started to talk more and reach out, make friends. It was terrifying at first, but when he realized people were accepting him, it got easier. He got better around people, but never abandoned his will to study hard and get good grades. He slowly grew into the person he is today, by staying true to himself. He doesn't want to be fake.

He doesn’t throw large drunken parties and he doesn’t act like a jerk. People know him, wave at him as he passes in the hallway. He gets flirted with but he doesn’t go on a lot of dates, preferring to spend his evenings with a book or with one or two friends. He makes an effort to be kind and he doesn’t quite realize just how handsome he is. And of course he always finishes his homework, because the part of him that wants to succeed never left. His reputation is important to him, he doesn’t want to be like he was in middle school, peculiar and alone.

He doesn't look up to Dean anymore. The punk doesn’t scare him, he just irritates Castiel. Everything he does is annoying, the way he raises his hand lazily in class, as if he doesn’t care that his answers are always right. The way he doesn’t look at anyone when he speaks, or the way he shifts and never stops tugging at his ripped clothes during a presentation, goading Castiel into saying something about it. He thinks he’s so cool, yet tries to get attention by acting… different. Cas can’t quite put his finger on it, but he can’t stand it. Sometimes he even feels like Dean is making fun of him in particular, but he knows that doesn’t make sense. He saw Dean standing with Benny and Crowley and some other guys of the elite ‘gang’ that hangs out at the side of the school and smokes cigarettes. Castiel knows those people. They laugh behind your back and judge you to your face, they use everything they know about you against you when they need it, and trick you into believing they’re good of heart. But Castiel has met enough of them to know what kind of people they really are.

And now… Now this… These stories of Sam about his brother seem so heroic, so entirely not Dean Winchester. It's messing with Cas' brain. He can't link the superhero brother that Sam has been describing over and over again to Dean Winchester. It doesn't work, it cannot be true. Castiel wolfs down his food during dinner, with a confused Sam and Alfie at the other side of the table. Gabriel just lets him be, for which Cas is grateful. He doesn't want to explain. The anger is heavier than the embarrassment that he'd been sure Sam's mysterious brother was some fairytale prince, that he'd imagined a handsome guy pinning Cas against the wall and kissing him breathless at the end of the evening. He'd been so stupid.

It doesn't let him go and he falls asleep late, ire keeping him awake. It’s been a while since he actually thought about that one day specifically. He’d become so used to disliking Dean that he’d forgotten where it all started. But tonight he keeps thinking about Dean throwing him against the lockers, over and over again.

Chapter Text

When he wakes up, he still feels the anger rushing through his blood. He seriously needs to calm down, this won’t do him any good. If he keeps thinking back to something that happened years ago, he might lose some of the things he’s built up over time. Confidence, for example.

He turns his shower extra cold, as if it will stop his blood from boiling. As he dries himself off, he looks into the mirror, the muscles on his arms and the lines of abs on his stomach. This one moment shouldn’t change how he feels about himself. Within a few minutes, he’s dressed into a simple grey sweater and black jeans—he doesn’t even try to fix his hair—and he goes to make breakfast.

As he walks past the bookcase, he stops to look at an old picture of him and his brothers.

He now looks most like Michael did, back then. They have the same dark hair, the same smile. The Castiel in this picture still wears glasses, has shorter hair, and wears an odd combination of clothes. His face is younger and his body scrawny. It’s obvious that he barely did sports when the picture was taken. Castiel smiles faintly, despite himself. He’s glad he isn’t that person anymore.

It’s difficult not to think about Dean when he’s in school, until he finds Charlie. She is able to get it off his mind for a while, as they joke around in class and do some work together. Charlie has been his best friend ever since she transferred to this school in their sophomore year. They clicked right away; she was wearing a Star Wars shirt and somehow sensed that Castiel was as much of a nerd as she was.

New people always made Cas a little awkward, especially back then, but he started a conversation by complimenting her shirt, and ever since that day they’d been friends. He didn’t have to be someone else around her, and neither did she. He was the first one who knew she was gay and the first to hear about her dates with Dorothy, who is now her girlfriend. She was the first to hear about Castiel’s attraction to men, she’d helped him pick clothes, they joked around about how they were probably the gayest best friends in the world, and stood up for each other when they needed to.

She keeps Castiel’s mind off of yesterday. It works until they’re at lunch, when Castiel sees Dean pass through the hall, alone, focused on his phone. He looks up for one second and their eyes meet accidentally. Dean quickly looks back at his phone, but Castiel’s mind is back at yesterday.

"Hey, Charlie,” he says as lightly as possible. “What do you, uh, think about Dean?"

"Dean Winchester?"

He nods. To his surprise, she smiles affectionately and lays down her sandwich.

"He's so kind, even though you wouldn't assume so, based on his looks. But honestly, once you get through that, you'll find an amazing friend. Oh, and he's more talkative than he looks. He's so gentle and sweet, takes amazing care of his brother, too."

"How do you know?" Castiel asks through gritted teeth. He tries not to glare at Charlie, but she doesn't even notice. She smiles brightly and picks up her sandwich again.

"Worked on a project with him once in junior year. He helped me with several things even though he didn't need to. He's so smart, you know."

"I probably could've helped you, too," Cas blurts out. It's too frustrating to hear Charlie talk about someone he dislikes so much in such a sweet manner, and he closes the book he’d been reading.

"What's your problem, Cas?" she asks. She's slowly starting to realize Castiel looks angry, so he tries to calm down.

"Nothing." He playfully kicks her under the table. "If I didn't know you're gay, I'd think you were in love with him."

She giggles, though still looking a little suspicious.

"Nah, he's more like the older brother I never wanted."

Cas had hoped that being able to talk about it with Charlie would help. But it only made him feel worse.

Once home, he’s once again alone with his thoughts. After staring at his books for an hour, he puts down his homework with a sigh. He can't concentrate anyway. He has to figure this out; why does everyone love Dean Winchester?

It sort of sinks to the back of his mind as the week continues. Homework and his presentation on Friday keep him from thinking too much about other things. It also helps that Sam doesn’t come over that week. He can’t help but wonder if that’s because of what happened, but he doesn’t give it too much thought.

Castiel used to hate presentations. They still worry him even though the people in his class like him now. He knows a lot about his subject and spent several days preparing, but it’s an important grade. Although he mostly aces presentations, he can’t help but be nervous that Friday morning. The only positive thing about it is that he doesn’t even need to try and ignore the punk in the back of the class, it just happens.

Of course his worrying had been useless. He gets an A+ without a doubt, accompanied by high-fives from several people including Charlie, and he leaves the class with a hint of a smile on his face.

His happiness doesn't last very long. He's about to say something to Charlie, when someone behind them calls his name. He turns around and finds Dean looking at them. He's wearing leather, fingerless gloves on his hands, gripping on the shoulder straps of his backpack. After seeing Castiel's glare, he takes a little step away from them.

"What?" Cas snaps. Dean startles, and so does Charlie.

"I… I—Your… your bag is still open." Cas can't help but look. Dean is right, his bag is still open and his books nearly fall out.

He zips it closed and looks back up, not sure what to say, but Dean has already left.

"Did you really have to be so rude? He was just—" Charlie begins.

"Are you defending him?" Cas squints.

"I was just asking why you were so mean—he was trying to be nice, Cas, and you snapped at him for no reason! It's weird, all right?" Her red hair dances around her face as she turns to look at him, confused, a bit angry, even.

Castiel sighs. He’d been so happy a few moments ago, and now even Charlie is defending Dean, while Cas is her best friend.

"You're so defending him, Charlie.” He glares. “You know what? Forget it. Go—go talk with Dean if you like him so much."

He storms away, ignoring Charlie calling his name. Why is she so keen on Dean while he… Doesn't anyone see how annoying he is in class? Everyone just seems to love him and Dean… He acts like it's nothing, as if their adoration for him isn't good enough—as if he's better than them.

The rest of his day is spent without Charlie. They sit on their standard places in class but Charlie doesn't say anything, and neither does Cas. He doesn’t want her to win this and he can’t bend now, it’s something he feels so passionately angry about.

At home, all that passion is gone. He feels weirdly empty, his last few hours had been empty. He doesn't like fighting with Charlie. They actually never fight, not at all. Today was twice as boring and long as normal. Plus, he feels guilt. Charlie has nothing to do with Dean. All she did was what she always does—be nice to everyone who happens to cross her path.

Apparently he isn't the only one who doesn't like the fight. After a while, his phone buzzes.

“Hey, you still mad? I didn't mean to offend you. You probably have your reasons to dislike him, I just didn't understand. Sorry, Cas <3”

Cas swallows. Castiel might be a jock and probably the most popular guy in school, but that doesn't mean he has to act like a jerk. Charlie didn't really do anything wrong and thinking back about it, he doesn't like the way he snapped at her at all.

“No, I'm sorry Charlie. I know you were just being nice. I really don't like him, that's all. Sorry, Char. You're allowed to hate me, and all that.”

“Don't call me Char, I'll kill you. Xx”

Cas grins, sends a 'sure thing' back and starts on his homework.

It's good to not fight with Charlie. They're not ones to get angry easily—not at each other. They're good at complaining about others—together. Teachers who are rude or students that don't know how to behave, those are good targets during lunch. But it seems that Castiel is going to have to fight his anti-Dean war alone.

Wherever he goes, with whomever he talks, no one seems to dislike Dean Winchester. He feels like it's coincidence at first, karma or fate playing tricks on him. But it's getting more annoying with each and every person he loosely interrogates.

Most people say they don't really know him, but hear he's a great guy. Others light up when Dean is mentioned, smile, nod excitedly when he mentions him. No one ever talks about bullying.

There's one thing, though. One thing that gives him a weird kind of hope, a hope that Castiel is right and all those others are not. Before Castiel got on the baseball team, Dean was an important team member. Until he got kicked out for fighting Gordon.

The day it happened the entire school was talking about it. Dean Winchester with the tank top and the ripped jeans had fought Gordon Walker, the dark-skinned kid who always smokes in front of the principal's office to make them chase him.

The only problem is that Castiel dislikes Gordon, too. Cas is always getting in between him and whoever he's trying to beat up that day. He's one of Castiel's biggest problems and Castiel is glad he isn't on the team anymore, either. But still, it's Castiel's proof that Dean isn't the innocent, kind of shy guy everyone talks about. But whenever he brings up the fight between Gordon and Dean, people say Dean was so brave and heroic. It doesn't help.

Bit by bit, Cas starts getting more vexed. It's stressing him out and he realizes that Dean's presence in class is making him even more annoyed than before. But he doesn't want to make it worse, so he begins to push himself away from it. He tries to sit at the other side of the classroom and stops talking or asking about Dean. He doesn't want to get mad, and it works, on the surface.

A week has passed in which Castiel hasn't brought up the subject 'Dean.' He's been working hard on a project with Charlie, helping Gabriel with a birthday present for Balthazar, and training with the baseball team. It's good to have trainings to get his energy out. He never used to be the kid who was good at sports. His coordination wasn't great and neither was his condition, but he saw strategy. The other two, he could learn. It was an opportunity he'd seen as his shy, nervous fourteen-year-old self, an opportunity to become a different person. He trained with Balthazar and Gabriel whenever he could and he made the team. Once in, he gained strength and speed, put more effort in training than most of the others. He’s gotten more muscular, his legs have gotten stronger, his build tougher. The hard work paid off and soon, everyone recognized him as the captain of the team.

Especially during trainings, it's easy for him to escape from Dean's presence. It almost feels like he's able to not care, forget about it entirely and just dislike Dean like he did before. But he isn't that lucky.

"Cas, wait!" A soft, female voice sounds from behind him. He turns around, knowing it's Jo before seeing her running down the hall.

"Hello." He smiles. "How are you? How are your mother and Bobby?"

"Excellent," she says. "We're doing great. The other day there were some issues with a customer, but Dean fixed it all on his own, and he had dinner with us last night to celebrate."

"Dean?" Castiel asks. A frown returns on his face. "Dean Winchester… works for Bobby?"

"Didn't you know?" Jo twirls a strand of hair around her finger, looking a little dreamy. "He's a gentleman, you know. Mom loves him, always wants him to stay over after his shift. I don't really mind, if you know what I mean." She winks, reaches for her bag and grabs a package of gum. She doesn't notice the frown on Castiel's face and the agitated look in his eyes. "Mom was asking if you wanna come over this afternoon, she keeps asking me how you've been. Y'know, the usual. Since your dad never has time." She pops in a piece of gum and holds the package out to him.

"I'll come over," he says, shaking his head at the gum. Now he knows that Dean comes over there, too, he's sure to show up. "And you know my father does have time, but then Bobby is always working. It's not only his fault."

Jo puts her hair up in a ponytail, checking the clock at the same time.

"I know, my mom just worries that he's overworking himself. You know how she is. Well, I gotta go. See ya." She pats him on his shoulder and hurries away to her next class.

It's nice to see the Harvelles again, but the idea of Dean going over there too doesn't leave his mind. He tries not to imagine Ellen cupping Dean’s cheeks like she does with Castiel, checking on him, telling him to make sure he eats.

He feels stupid for being so jealous.

Balthazar doesn’t come home often since he studies in London and he doesn’t have much free time. But sometimes he gets a few days off and always comes to visit his family. Castiel loves those days Balthazar is back. It feels right, just like old times, when Gabriel and Balthazar were the oldest ones at home.

There once was a time when Michael and Lucius were the two oldest, but that was even longer ago. A lot of that, Castiel can’t even remember. They don’t come over except for the special occasions like birthdays and Christmas. Cas loves them, but the bond between him, Balthazar, and Gabriel has always been stronger.

At home, Castiel doesn’t have to worry about being different or keeping up a reputation. His father is a successful writer and earns plenty to take care of himself and the three kids still living at home. Gabriel is annoying but has a heart of gold, and he keeps an eye on Cas. He knows, but won’t let Gabriel know that he does. Alfie is dedicated to becoming as ‘cool as his brothers’ and loves following Castiel around the house, asking him about everything he does and trying to help him with his homework. It mostly ends up in a mess.

Castiel barely knows anything about his mother. She disappeared with a rich businessman and left all six children behind with Chuck when Castiel was six years old, never to be heard from again. He doesn't need her, either; he loves his father twice as much to make up for it. His three older brothers have already left home; Balthazar did just last year and Cas still misses him every day. He acted a lot like Gabriel in high school but Cas always trusted him most. He talked to him about everything, except for the bullies like Dean Winchester. He helped Cas with anything, helped him study, taught him how to cook and even how to flirt, even though Cas never asked for it.

The large kitchen table seems loaded, despite Gabriel not being there. Castiel and Balthazar sit next to each other, with Alfie and Sam at the other side. Chuck is next to the two young friends, pouring tea for his sons.

“I’m delighted to hear your classes are going well, Balthazar,” Chuck says as he gives Balthazar one of the cups.

Balthazar takes it with a graceful flair. It’s one of those quirky little things Castiel misses when his older brother isn’t around, and he can see his father smile as well.

“It’s absolutely marvelous, father.” He takes a sip of his tea, winking at Sam who’s staring at his necklaces.

“What is that?” Sam asks, pointing at one that’s low to the edge of his V-neck.

“That’s protection from evil spirits,” Balthazar says, his fingers curling around the cup. “If you believe in that sort of thing, obviously. I think it looks cool.”

“It does. My brother has all kinds of necklaces for evil spirits.”

Cas can just stop himself from rolling his eyes. He doesn’t like the attention Balthazar is giving Sam’s brother. Castiel only vaguely listens to Balthazar explaining more of his necklaces and asking which ones Dean has. Castiel’s frown is deep and he sighs several times, actually relieved when Sam and Alfie go back to playing again.

“So, Cassie,” Balthazar asks when Chuck leaves the table as well, mumbling into his beard, probably about his book. Balthazar lazily wraps an arm around Castiel, who reluctantly leans into the hug. “What’s wrong with Sam’s brother?” He grins when he sees Castiel’s confused face. “Deary me, Cas, I’ve practically raised you, I know my little brother. I saw your face when Sam mentioned… Dean, right? So what, is he your ex or something?”

Castiel pulls a face. “No, I just uh… I don’t like him.”

Balthazar raises his eyebrow. He puts down his tea, settles into his chair and observes Castiel. It doesn’t feel annoying, it’s a protective, in a concerned kind of way, like Balthazar wonders if he should be worried.

Suddenly, Castiel knows he has to tell Balthazar. He has to tell him what happened. He starts talking, telling his older brother that all those years ago, Dean slammed him against the lockers, making his nose and head bleed, and that ever since, Castiel can’t stand him.

At first, Balthazar just listens. His face doesn’t show any kind of expression, like he’s processing things way faster than his face can show. Once Castiel is done, Balthazar slowly gets up and starts bringing the tea cups to the kitchen.

“Do you think I’m a bad person?” Balthazar asks him, his bracelets ticking against each other as he turns back to Cas.

“No,” Castiel says immediately. “Of course I don’t.”

“What if… what if I told you I hit someone before? I mean, with him ending up with blood and ripped clothes and everything?”

“You seriously did that?” Castiel gets up, staring at his older brother completely baffled. “But… Why? Who? When?”

“This dick was being rude about dad’s books.” Balthazar shrugs. He sits down on the edge of the table, looking at Castiel thoughtfully. “I could handle it, until he started about dad’s personality. I flipped, hit him, we fought… We ended up on the floor and I uh, let myself go. Not for too long, I—I got pulled away.”

Cas tries to imagine Balthazar beating someone up. This was something Lucius would do, maybe Michael, but Balthazar was always more a prank kind of guy, a jokester like Gabriel. He charmed his way through with sarcasm and wit, not with his fists.

“When was this?” Cas asks, and he can’t help but feel a little proud of Balthazar. He stood up for his father, and Castiel wonders if he would’ve been as brave.

“In sophomore year.” Balthazar scratches the light stubble on his cheek and doesn’t look away from Cas. “I’m not saying that what this Dean did was good, obviously he was a jerk, I’m just saying… What Sam says doesn’t have to be wrong.” He slides off the table, pats Castiel’s shoulder and turns around, making his way to the door. “Sometimes good people do bad things.”

He walks away, leaving Castiel alone, confused, his brain even fuzzier than before.

Chapter Text

The next few weeks, Castiel continues to work on projects, he writes essays, he trains, does everything he's supposed to do. He also tries to focus on anything besides Dean Winchester, but it seems to follow him around. He overhears two teachers talk about "oh so kind Dean Winchester" in the hallway, sees Jo jump on his back in the cafeteria, and wonders why everyone is so extremely patient as Dean stutters and drops his papers during presentations. He still seems to be the only one who gets annoyed, but he doesn’t talk about it and focuses on other things as much as possible. He loves going outside in between classes to study, which is exactly what he does on one of his Tuesdays.

It's sunny and way too warm to sit inside with all the other students. Charlie has drama class, and even though there's plenty of others who'd love to have him around, he decides to sit alone and work on his Literature homework.

He finds a place against a tree at the end of the school's property, the shadow of its leaves covering him from the burning sun. He uses his jacket to sit on and has his bag at his side. Soon, he's focused on the Literature book, trying to find the symbolism they're supposed to analyze.

More than fifteen minutes pass without any distractions. Then, suddenly, he hears a teacher's voice, answered by a calm, younger one. He recognizes both. Mr. Cain, a heavily bearded man who teaches Mythology and Religion, followed by none other than Dean Winchester.

Castiel groans to himself. The more he forces himself not to get distracted, the more distracting the pair become.

They walk over to Mr. Cain's car, and Castiel watches them from his place under the tree. He can't hear exactly what they're saying, but he can see them clearly. Mr. Cain lifts the hood of his car, says a few things. Dean nods and reaches inside for a while. Castiel tries to get back on his book, but the fact that they're there is way too distracting.

After they talk for a while, Mr. Cain pats Dean's shoulder and walks back into school. Now, Dean seems to be completely at ease. He doesn't look around like he does at school, as if he's waiting for something bad to happen. But now Dean is busy working on the car, Castiel reads not even half as fast as before. He looks up every once in a while, as Dean fixes things inside the front of the car.

Ten minutes pass, then Dean wipes his forehead. There's stuff lying around the car, things Castiel doesn't recognize or understand. Dean, on the other hand, seems to know exactly what he's doing. Before Castiel realizes what's happening, Dean grabs the bottom of his shirt and pulls it off, laying it on the hood of the car. Castiel can't look away.

He's seen tattoos before, he's seen Dean's tattoos before. The ones on his arms, the roses on his left and the fox on his right, but now he realizes that he never saw Dean's bare torso or back. Black perfectly balanced with colors. Cas can see purples and blues between the black on Dean’s chest and stomach when he turns around for some parts. When he turns, Cas sees a green pattern trailing over his hip and disappearing under the waist of his jeans.

Dean starts working again and Castiel has a perfect view of his back. Next to the tattoos on Dean’s shoulder, his back is clean from any ink, maybe to be decorated once, maybe to stay like this.

Castiel catches himself thinking about it, wants to hit himself with his book, and tries to get back to work again. It's hard, but trying to hate what he'd just seen is even harder.

Dean Winchester is attractive. His body is built and shaped perfectly. A muscled back Cas is a little jealous of, toned biceps, but nothing too extreme. Secondly, Castiel never thought he'd like the look of tattoos so much. There aren’t too many tattoos like Cas had seen with some of Lucius’ friends before. It’s the perfect amount, just enough to grab his attentions and leave him with a burning curiosity. He doesn’t like it. Dean might be handsome and his tattoos mysterious, but that doesn't mean that he suddenly likes Dean, now. Handsome guys can be dicks, too.

Cas can’t help but think about Balthazar’s story. How he punched someone in the face because they insulted Chuck. Before that, Castiel had never thought that Balthazar would ever hit anyone in the face. Like Balthazar said though, good people sometimes do stupid things. But Dean isn’t the same as Balthazar; Castiel hadn’t insulted him, he didn’t do anything wrong. He just existed and that had been enough for Dean to throw him against the lockers and leave him behind, bleeding.

Of course, he knows that Balthazar meant it well when he said Dean might not be so bad, but right now Castiel can’t believe in that, he won’t. Fixing a car for a teacher and being attractive doesn’t change that.

Science is one of those classes that Castiel loves, but also hates. It’s difficult because he has to be aware of everything that happens all the time. He can’t just tune out for a moment, especially not with experiments. On top of that, he’s often paired up with Garth. He’s a good guy and one of Castiel’s closer friends, but he’s so excitable and makes such big hand gestures that it’s almost inevitable that at least one thing gets knocked over during class.

They do have fun together, but Castiel always has to calm Garth down a little and keep him away from anything that includes fire.

Today, they’re paired up together again. The first ten minutes are going great, until someone raises their voice.

“Anyone seen Dean?”

Cas closes his eyes for a moment. Keep it together, it’s not worth it. People look around, shake their head, and Castiel can’t help but turn around to look at everyone else.

“I really hope he’s okay,” Lisa whispers to Meg. They stare at the empty place. “I know how rough things can be for him.” Lisa used to date Dean—one of the most surprising couples Cas had seen in their school. Even after they broke up, Lisa has kept a soft spot for Dean that was obvious in the way she talked about him or how she sometimes sat with him in class, as if she felt sorry for him.

Cas rolls his eyes and turns back around, just as Garth tries to look at Dean’s empty space. He bumps against Cas, yelps, knocks over two test tubes and spills several liquids and mixtures over Castiel’s books and arm.

“Oh, I’m so sorry!” Garth gasps, trying to save Castiel’s books as Cas quickly takes off his shirt, trying to prevent touching more acid. He’s cursing under his breath as he feels a burning heat on his arm, quickly stinging everything it touches.

The teacher is with him immediately.

“Come here, we’ve got to rinse that quickly.” They hurry to the back of the room and get Cas’ arm under the ice cold water. They stand there for a minute until the teacher turns off the tap.

“You okay?” he asks, checking Castiel’s face. Cas nods. It doesn’t hurt, he’s just angry.

“You should rinse it with a more gentle spray of water for a while in the bathroom. Should someone go with you?”

“I’ll be fine.” Cas shakes his head and walks back to his place to get his shirt. Now the first shock is over, some girls look at each other knowingly, eyeing Castiel’s bare chest more than the burn on his arm. They giggle as he walks by, but he ignores them. The stinging sensation gets worse, which makes him even angrier. Walking through the hall bare-chested isn’t very comfortable either, but as soon as he gets into the bathroom and starts rinsing the burn, he calms down again. The water is cooling and softens the pressing burn on his skin.

As he stands there, inspecting his arm, he hears a sound from behind one of the doors. It isn’t very loud, but it’s there. Even over the sound of the water, he can hear that it’s someone crying, paired with soft hisses.

He frowns, looking at the locked door via the mirror and wondering who is there and what’s going on. He’s about to say something, when he hears a voice.

“Fucking son of a bitch.” It hisses, and Castiel freezes. Dean. There’s no doubt, he’s sure that it’s Dean Winchester, crying and cursing behind that door. Quickly, he turns the water up a little more and starts making a bit more noise. He doesn’t know why, but he wants to make sure Dean knows he’s there, that he isn’t alone anymore.

A few moments later, the door opens and Dean walks out, eyeliner smudged a bit more than usual, school bag loose on his arm and his shirt tugged only partly in his jeans. He looks at Castiel for a moment, then moves to the tap next to Cas. Castiel looks in the mirror as Dean puts something in his bag. He’s pretty sure it’s a needle or a pin or something. Then, Dean starts washing his hands. It takes Castiel a second to realize the water is turning slightly red and that Dean is rinsing off blood.

He stares, forgetting his own arm. Dean is looking at Castiel’s arm, as if there isn’t blood coming from his hands.

“Keep it under,” Dean says all of a sudden, nodding at Cas’ arm which is hanging useless next to the water. “Ten minutes.”

“Don’t you have your own problems?” He chokes, feeling caught. It’s Dean’s fault that he got this burn anyway.

Dean turns around. He dries off his hands, grabs his backpack, and walks off, ignoring Castiel’s words completely.

By the time they have baseball practice, Castiel’s arm feels a little better. It’s still a bit sensitive, but he can swing the bat just as hard as always. Aside from that, training isn’t going well. Castiel isn’t the problem, it’s the rest of the team getting distracted by, well, anything.

The warm weather makes them lazy, not focusing on the training but just sitting down in the grass, chatting and ignoring their captain’s annoyed sighs. Until Castiel raises his voice and tells them to get up if they don’t want to get kicked out of the team, all of them. They suddenly listen and get up, but they bicker over the teams they’re making, complain about the sun burning in their neck, don’t run as fast as normal.

Just when Castiel wants to give another speech, Kevin seems to forget about the game.

“Dean!” He drops the ball he was holding and hurries over to the stands, where Dean just appeared.

Castiel wonders if his day could get any worse. The others follow Kevin’s lead and run over to the guy, all talking in excited voices. Blood is rushing through his ears by the time he reaches the group.

“Listen—”

“Dean, we miss you so much, man, why aren’t you coming back?”

“Yeah, Dean-o, we miss your speed.”

“Damn, you’d make such a great captain.”

That’s the last straw. Castiel snaps, his anger reaches a peak. He barely ever loses control over himself. Not at home, not at school, not during practice. But he does now.

“All right, practice is over!” He roars, startling everyone with his sudden outburst. He doesn’t care anymore. All he can think of is to get away from here, get away from Dean… “Everyone can do whatever the hell they think is more important, forget training, just go!”

Before anyone can say a word, he runs away. He puts the bat back where it belongs, grabs his bag and storms out without changing out of his baseball clothes. His ears are still whizzing dangerously.

He doesn’t calm down when he leaves the school property, running past the bus station, past the forest he sometimes likes to walk through, especially on a day like this. He runs through a street, another one, stops halfway through the third where he bends over, hands on his knees, panting. His heart is pounding in his chest and he’s probably red-faced and sweaty, but he’s too angry to care.

Running footsteps sound from behind him, heavy breathing, and a voice.

“Castiel! Castiel, wait!”

It’s the last voice Castiel expects and wants to hear. He starts walking fast, too tired to run.

“Cas.” Dean’s voice is coming closer, “Castiel, wait!”

Finally, Castiel turns around, anger flaming in his normally so tranquil eyes. He’s standing right in front of Dean, who’s panting as he stops.

“Wait,” he repeats, catching his breath, sweat glistening on the piercing in his left eyebrow. Dean blinks, innocent green eyes framed with dark lashes and smudged eyeliner. “About freshman year, listen to me—”

Castiel is way too angry. His ears are still pounding with blind rage, adrenaline quickly filling him up again.

“Listen to you?” he thunders. He grabs Dean’s arm and pulls him into the alley next to them. Without a second thought he pushes Dean against the brick wall and holds him there, elbow pressing onto his shoulder as his hand grips tight on Dean’s Led Zeppelin tank top.

There’s no defense, no reaction from Dean’s side, but Cas doesn’t notice. It feels good to be in control. The power he didn’t have in freshman year, it’s there now. He’s ready for a fight for once, ready to defend himself like he couldn’t years ago.

“Why, Dean, why?” He pushes him harder against the wall and lets go, staring furiously. Dean stumbles, trips and falls down onto the dirty ground. Skin scrapes rough against the pavement. He doesn’t even try to get up, breathing in rough, irregular heaves.

“Why did you do that to me? What had I done wrong?!” Castiel furiously grabs his shoulder. He’s ready to pull him up and slam him back against the wall, force an answer out of Dean. And then he sees Dean’s face.

Blood and dirt are mixed with eyeliner and silent tears. He looks nothing but weak like this, his green eyes not angry like Castiel’s but ashamed.

“Do it.” Dean coughs, breath sharp. “… I deserve it.”

Suddenly, Castiel’s mind seems to stagger. Thoughts begin to crumble, as if Dean’s tears are the water that Castiel’s dam of hate can’t hold. He doesn’t want it to break, he needs to stay angry, angry about what Dean did… but he can’t.

“Come on!” Dean chokes, almost panicking.

“N—no,” Cas hears himself stutter and his hands drops to his side, unfurling. He sinks down to his knees, onto the filthy floor.

“I’m—I’m so sorry,” Dean says, breath hitching. “I’m so sorry…”

Cas is staring. He doesn’t know what to do, whether to reach out and help Dean, or to not fall for the emotions. He’s quiet as Dean curls into himself next to him. His shoulders tremble with the rhythm of his sobbing, slowly calming, but not stopping. He looks weak, innocent, and for the first time in all those years, Castiel can see what others see, even though it clashes with the anger that’s still within him. His dirty, scraped up hands are trembling. Dean doesn’t do anything to wipe the blood from his face, he doesn’t tilt his head up to slow down the trail of blood coming from his nose. He just lets it happen.

“But… Why?” Cas’ voice is hoarse from screaming. It’s weirdly quiet. “What had I done wrong, why… why did you… do that?”

Dean looks up, eyes red from tears, face a dirty mess, and Cas suddenly realizes it’s because of him. He feels a pang of guilt, but Dean looks away. His lips quiver as he shakes his head.

“Because you were there… just because.” Dean turns away. “I couldn’t feel vulnerable anymore… And you… you staring at me… I was exposed, and I didn’t… I couldn’t be weak like that.” He stares at Castiel for a moment, then takes a deep, shivering breath. “You deserve to know.”

Chapter Text

November 2nd, three years ago.

The second of November has always been Dean’s least favorite day. On this date, when Dean had been six years old, his mother died. There had been a fire, a fire Dean saved his little brother from, a fire that made his father into an abusive, depressed alcoholic. A fire that scarred Dean for life. This particular day, nine years after that terrible night, wasn’t going that great either.

It all started with Sam that morning.

“Dean, can we talk about it?”

“About what?” Dean frowns. He’s folding laundry and eating his breakfast at the same time, with Sam sitting opposite him.

“Mom.”

Dean doesn’t look at his nine year old brother but continues to fold.

“No, actually not.” He pushes aside his food, suddenly not hungry anymore.

“But Dean, I miss her.” Sam looks at his older brother. Dean’s always there for him, always, and he doesn’t understand why Dean suddenly doesn’t want to talk.

“I miss her too, okay?” Dean snaps. “But talking about her ain’t gonna make it simple, Sam, so shut up about it!”

He never told Sam to shut up before. There’s instant regret in his eyes, but Sam already got up.

“Sammy—”

“I hate you, Dean, I hate you!” Sam storms away. A moment later, the door slams. He’s off to school.

Dean should know that Sam doesn’t actually hate him, but it still hurts. Sam is always at his side, at least, he should be. Dean wishes he didn’t snap at him. Now, his only hope, the only person he could always hold onto, is angry at him.

“Fuck.” He folds the rest of the laundry with tears in his eyes and brings the clothes to his and Sam’s rooms. With the last few clothes, he walks to John’s room hesitantly.

He knocks.

“Dad?”

There’s no response. Dean opens the door carefully, wondering if his father is sleeping. But John is sitting on the side of the bed, obviously drunk with bottles of beer and whisky spread around him, one of them half-empty in his hand. He can tell John had been crying.

Dean puts the clothes in their place and looks at his father in silence. He doesn’t know how to help him, what to say, but he wants to make his father feel better despite…

“You,” John suddenly says. He gets up, dangerously swaying, waving his bottle of whisky around. “You are the problem of this all, boy,” he slurs. He simply grabs Dean’s shirt and yanks him aside, throws him on the floor like it’s nothing, taking a swig of his drink in the meantime. “You think it’s easy, having a son like this? Well, it ain’t, lemme tell you that. You’re a waste, can’t be manly for shit.” John gives a few kicks to Dean’s stomach, but they’re not as hard as normal.

It seems like he doesn’t really want to put in any more effort. He drops the bottle of whisky on the floor; glass explodes around Dean, but thankfully his face had been turned the other way. He can feel glass piercing through his jeans into his leg, feels hot blood starting to run a little bit, and the contents of the whisky bottle soaking into his clothes.

John mutters something and sways into the hall, leaving Dean on the floor. After a while, Dean hears the door close again. He’s alone.

With pain in his chest at every move, he collects the glass, trying not to cut himself. He throws it away, cleans the floor of whisky and limps to the bathroom, finally able to look at his leg.

At school, Dean stays away from everyone. Even Benny, with whom he normally feels comfortable. He thinks that if he stays away from everyone, things can’t really get worse. But he is mistaken.

When his phone buzzes, he doesn’t think about the damage it can cause. He doesn’t hesitate when he sees that it’s from his girlfriend, Lisa. He opens the message.

Dean, it reads, and as he continues to scan the words, a fog of tears blurs the last few sentences. His throat shuts tight, fingers clutching onto his phone and his mind tries everything to make him believe this isn’t true. It’s a dream, a nightmare, this cannot be happening, not today of all days. I’m sorry but I don’t think I can be with you anymore. You’re a sweet, kind person, but the way we’ve been drifting apart scares me. I wish it was different, but you just don’t make me happy anymore. I don’t think I’d be able to break up with you face to face, so that’s why I’m sending a text, like a coward. But it’s for the best. I’m sure you’ll find someone who fits you better than me, but we won’t work out. I can feel that and I think you can, too. Maybe we have known since the beginning. I’ll be here for you if you need me, though. I promise. Love, Lisa.

His phone clatters on the floor of the cafeteria. Everyone around turns to look at him. He doesn’t want their eyes, their judgemental, hateful eyes. He grabs his phone, throws his bag over his shoulder, and runs away to the closest bathroom, where he locks himself in and slides down against the door. He breaks.

When he finally gets himself back together, only as much as needed to walk through the hall, he goes to the lockers. He’ll get his jacket and books so he can just go home. He didn’t expect anybody to be at the lockers, but there is someone. It’s a guy from his class, Castiel Shurley.

He’s staring right through Dean’s walls. It’s as if he sees all the flaws and cracks, all the pain and tears that had been piling up on Dean’s face all day long. Maybe he can even smell the scent of his father’s whisky that Dean had barely been able to get off his clothes, too little time to change into something else.

“You got a problem?” He hears himself huff. The pain in his chest gets worse, but it’s better than bursting into tears right in front of this guy. There’s no answer as Dean grabs his stuff. He has to get home quick, or he’ll go crazy.

Castiel is still staring. Dean feels as if he’s breaking down everything that Dean had been trying to build up, and it’s more than he can take right now. Today.

“Fuck off, Shurley.” He walks up to him. Castiel doesn’t know him, he doesn’t know what’s going on with him, he sees only the weakness. Dean has to show, to Castiel or to himself, that he isn’t just that. He’s more, more than just that broken shell.

He grabs his arm, not sure what he’s doing. His eyes are filling with tears. “Don’t fucking mess with me.”

Dean doesn’t know what he wants, it’s not this, he just wants someone who cares, but since that’s something he gave up ages ago…

As soon as Castiel hits the lockers, Dean knows he messed up. He’s way stronger than he anticipated, even his own hands hurt, his fingers tingle. Fuck. He stares in panic as Castiel slumps against the lockers. For a moment he’s afraid Castiel won’t move, but then he opens his eyes, he groans, and Dean can’t do anything. He has to leave, now, before he makes things worse. He runs away, blindly skipping past people, hurrying outside school. He doesn’t care about the lessons he’ll miss, he needs to get out of here. Fast.

Dean is talking. It’s slow and interrupted by his shivery breath. He told Cas about it being an extremely difficult day, about the fight with his little brother, the breakup with Lisa, the people staring and the feeling of weakness. Castiel feels like he’s leaving things out, but this is enough to leave him dazed.

Cas is dizzy with thoughts. He leans back against the wall, the brick cold against his neck. He’s still panting, staring at Dean in amazement.

Is this the truth? he thinks. It has to be, no one can lie like that. Dean seems way too ashamed for it to be a lie, too. Slowly, Castiel begins to realize that all those years, both of them had been afraid for the same thing. But Dean, Dean had it worse and Castiel never knew.

“I never should’ve… You weren’t—you weren’t the problem.” Dean wipes at his eyes. The black eyeliner is everywhere now. His hands, his cheeks, it even dripped down to his chin.

“Dean, I’m sorry, I didn’t know about any of that. I never knew…”

“Don’t apologize.” Dean shakes his head. “You couldn’t have known, and even if you did… You had every right to be mad. None of it was your fault. You were just… in the wrong place at the wrong time.”

Cas stares at his feet. Sitting here, in a small alley, with Dean Winchester. The person he dislikes most.

No. The person he used to dislike most.

Dean seems different now. Everything seems different now and it’s an odd feeling, as if he’s been living towards a moment that passed without him noticing. It feels empty. But it’s an emptiness that can be filled again.

Dean doesn’t want to go to Castiel’s like Castiel suggested. He has the urge to make up for what he has done but Dean says he just wants to go home. Castiel understands and goes home alone, thoughts still storming through his mind and trying to find a place. He promises himself that he will make up to Dean, bit by bit. He’ll make up for the times he spent creating a demon out of Dean, a menace out of someone who made one mistake. Castiel had only made matters worse until Dean finally had the opportunity to explain.

Class the next day feels different. No one acts differently, but Castiel can feel it. It’s got to do with Dean, who’s sitting behind him and Charlie. The teacher is handing out information about the project they have to work on and Cas tries to focus on her.

“Make pairs of two, everyone. No one should be left out. You can start working this hour and finish at home. It should be handed in next Friday so you have an entire week to work on this. Minimum of five hundred words, which is totally doable so I don’t want to hear any excuses!”

Some people groan, but Castiel doesn’t see a problem. He automatically turns to Charlie, but she shakes her head.

“I’m sorry sweetie, but I kinda promised Dorothy…”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Castiel gives her an understanding smile. For a moment, he wonders who he should ask. It’s not as if no one would want to do an essay with him. He can almost feel the eyes of several girls burning on his skin. But he knows someone else.

Castiel turns around in his chair. Dean is reading the paper, his pen tapping softly against his lower lip in a steady rhythm.

“Dean?” Castiel says gently. Dean startles and looks up at him, almost shocked. He isn’t wearing any eyeliner today, but there’s a piercing in his lower lip and a stud in his right nostril. A beanie covers his hair and around his neck are the usual couple of necklaces. Castiel pays more attention to the exotic looking beads and pendants than ever before, suddenly curious as to why Dean is wearing them. A few days ago, he would’ve thought it was a fashion statement. But ever since yesterday, Dean doesn’t seem like the person to wear things like this as a rebellious act.

“Yeah?” Dean asks and pulls Castiel from his thoughts.

“Do you, uh… Shall we do the essay together? I mean, if you don’t want to it’s fine, it’s cool if you already—”

“Oh, no, that’s okay.” Dean sits up in his chair a bit more, lowering his pen. “We can do it together.”

“Good.”

Castiel turns back around to write Dean’s name on the paper. He catches Charlie’s glance. “What?” he asks, defiantly.

She leans closer and whispers so Dean won’t hear her.

“Since when do you talk to Dean? I mean without yelling at him. I thought you hated him.”

Cas flinches and feels a blush creeping up on his cheeks as he scribbles down Dean’s name, next to his.

“I’ll tell you at lunch, okay?” He shifts, grabs his books, and goes to sit down next to Dean.

Dean had already put away the unnecessary books and opened a notebook by the time Castiel sits down. Now that he’s here, Cas realizes how little he knows about Dean. The black notebook is filled with lists, notes, scribbles, small drawings.

He doesn’t want to look at it too much as Dean skims through the book trying to find an empty spot.

“Do you know the story?” Dean asks at him and nods at the paper. “It’s on the back. Read it and I’ll write down some ideas.”

Castiel looks. ‘What Happened During the Ice Storm.’ He begins to read, though aware of Dean sitting next to him and writing things down, looking at him every once in a while. Castiel pretends not to notice.

The story is short, about farmer boys finding a few pheasants in an ice storm. At first the boys just stand there, not sure what to do. But instead of leaving them there, they take off their jackets to keep the birds warm, not caring that they get cold and soaked with ice themselves.

Once Castiel is finished reading, Dean shows him what he wrote down.

“We have to discuss how the author sees humanity and our way of responding in difficult situations. I think the author wants to show the good side of humanity, the one that fables often forget about.”

Cas nods. His eyes meet Dean’s for a moment. Neither of them show a sign of awkwardness because of yesterday, because of the past few years. It’s there, just invisible and thin.

“I think you’re right.” Castiel grabs his own pen and starts to write.

When the class ends, Dean and Castiel have come pretty far. Weirdly enough, they work together quite well and even the teacher gave them a compliment for ‘switching up their work partners.’ Dean said something about change being a good thing sometimes, and the smile he’d given Castiel showed he meant more than just your essay partner. Castiel is still thinking about it as he sits at his regular lunch table. Dean had meant that he was okay with Cas talking to him and obviously trying to change things up between them. When Charlie appears with her food, Cas shifts so she can sit next to him.

“So, Cas,” she says and takes a bite of her sandwich. “Tell me the story of Dean Winchester.”

He secretly hoped that she would forget it but he should’ve known that Charlie never forgets things like this. After eating some of his own food he begins to talk. He quickly explains why he disliked Dean at first and, a little embarrassed, explains what happened yesterday. Charlie put her food down after the first few sentences, totally forgetting she was eating.

“Wow.” She frowns. “That’s… I didn’t know, Cas. If I knew I would never have been mad at you for—”

“Charlie.” Castiel points his plastic fork at her. “It’s okay now. I misjudged Dean and that is my fault. You did nothing wrong. Pretty sure you saw Dean right all the time while I was stuck with my tunnel vision. Now eat, we’ve got class in five minutes.”

When the last bell of the day rings, Castiel catches himself looking for Dean to ask when to finish the essay, but he doesn’t see Dean around. He walks to his locker to get his jacket and books, and Dean is there at his own locker just down the hall.

Dean looks up when Castiel walks up to him, his leather jacket only half on.

“Hey,” Dean says. “I… guess we should finish that essay sometime?” He zips up his jacket. It’s the same color as his fingerless gloves.

“I think so, too. That would be a good idea.” Castiel smiles to show that he’s teasing Dean. “Anytime this week is fine.”

“Very funny.” Dean laughs and tries to balance his bag on his knee as he fills it with books. “I—I work today but we could do it tomorrow. I mean, I know where you live so I could…” He shrugs, in total contrast with the careful way he closes his locker. “I mean, I could come over if that’s okay.”

“Deal.” Castiel feels himself looking at Dean’s necklaces again, but he looks away before he can get caught staring. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

It’s the second time Castiel opens the door for Dean, but this time he knows Dean will be on the other side and he doesn’t tell him to leave. Instead, he smiles when he sees Dean and Sam.

Sam says a quick, “hey, Cas!” and then hurries inside to find Alfie. Dean enters slowly, as if he’s afraid to touch something.

“You, uh, you can put your jacket and whatever you don’t need here.” Cas says as he points at the coat rack. Dean takes his jacket off and puts it on one of the hooks as Castiel stands, a little uneasy, at the side and watches.

“I really hope it’s okay I brought Sammy with me; I couldn’t leave him alone.” Dean says as he takes off his old, worn sneakers and puts them aside.

“Honestly, Dean, it’s fine, I told you.” Castiel smiles and Dean’s lips curve lightly.

Dean had texted him yesterday to ask if he might be able to bring Sam along, to which Castiel had replied he could always bring Sam over, but Dean still seemed to feel like it’s bringing them trouble. Castiel wonders what makes him think that way.

Dean follows Castiel to his room, which Cas had cleaned as much as possible. Dean puts his bag down, just looking around without saying anything. Castiel feels even more uncomfortable than downstairs because Dean, ripped jeans and cut-off sleeves, looks as if he stepped into a museum full of art. Cas can’t help but follow his gaze. His king size bed is made for once, with black and dark blue pillows scattered on it in a hopeless attempt to make it look nice. The dark wood of the bed matches the nightstands and the frames of the pictures on them. One is of Castiel and Balthazar both looking seriously into the camera. A second one is with Charlie, both laughing so hard they had no idea Chuck took that picture. Next to Castiel’s bed is his desk on which several school books lay open, their English essay on top.

The wooden drawers at the side aren’t that impressive but Dean still looks at them for a while, he gently touches the side and then probably realizes what he’s doing, pulling his hand back. On the wall above is Castiel’s rack with his collection of CD’s, which immediately pulls Dean’s attention.

“May I?” he asks, looking around at Castiel.

“Sure.”

Dean glides his finger over the titles, muttering gently. He hums and turns around, eyes shifting to the posters on the wall where Castiel’s bed is at. There’s a ‘Backyard Bees of North America’ poster on the right and next to that a large poster of David Bowie.

Dean looks at that poster for a while, his back turned to Castiel.

"I wouldn't take you for a Bowie fan," he says eventually and turns around.

Castiel chuckles and walks over to him slowly.

"It's part of being a Shurley, I think." He looks at the poster as well as he can feel Dean's eyes on him, just like in class yesterday.

"People often don't look like the person they are, don't you think?" Dean asks.

Cas looks at him. Neither of them looks away and Castiel feels a blush creeping onto his cheeks. He even thinks Dean's cheeks start to color as well.

"Yeah, I, uh… I think you're right."

Castiel is the first to look away, suddenly intimidated by Dean's eyes. "We should continue working on the essay."

"You're right." Dean steps away from the posters and rubs his neck. "I brought what we did yesterday."

They sit on Cas' bed as they work, both soon dragged into the assignment. Dean is a hard worker, apparently. He seems as dedicated as Castiel to get a good grade for this. Castiel doesn't mind working with him. He's intelligent, though he doesn't brag about it. It's just there, information spilling out of him like it's nothing. Cas knows he needs to stop feeling bad about disliking Dean, but it's too fresh. Their essay turns out twice as long as assigned and Cas reads it aloud once they're finished.

"Awesome." Dean grins as they're done, and Castiel smiles, nodding.

"Nothing Mrs. Costello can complain about." He closes his book with a sigh and leans against the headboard, mind drifting off. Dean is folding his notes together and tucks them away. As he reaches down, his necklaces tinkle against each other and get Castiel's attention once more.

"What are they for?" he says without thinking. "I mean, the necklaces."

Dean looks down and his hands glide to them automatically.

"Warding off evil spirits," he says, just like Balthazar said to Sam. "I got them from a friend of Bobby’s. You know Bobby, right?"

"Yeah, I do." Castiel says. "Jo said you work for him?”

“For a while now—it’s a nice place.”

Dean glides his fingers over the necklaces, lost in his thoughts.

“Do you… think they work?" Cas says quietly.

"I have no idea." Dean shrugs and scoffs. He traces one of the necklaces with his fingers, his eyes hazy. He is thinking about something and Castiel is quiet. "But it doesn't hurt to be protected, does it?" Dean says after a pause.

"I guess not," Castiel agrees and Dean scoffs again, stretching his leg out onto the bed. He seems to be more comfortable now. Cas wants him to be, he doesn't want him to think he's a burden, like he acted when he came in and brought Sammy along. “So… you like Bowie, too?”

Dean grins. He looks at Cas, who gestures at the amount of room next to him and the pillows Dean could sit against.

Dean hesitates for a moment. He fails at hiding his surprise as he settles next to Castiel, head leaning against the plush pillows, but his expression softens when he starts talking again.

“Bowie is awesome. His music changed so much; he’s one of the best artists ever. He did things no one ever thought of and dared to just… go crazy, ya know? Right on top there with Jimmy Page, John Lennon… they’re legends.”

Castiel soon finds out that he shares the same music taste, though he never thought he would. He always knew Dean was into bands like Metallica or Black Sabbath because of his many band shirts, but along with Bowie they both love The Beatles, and Castiel would never have thought Dean liked The Doors or The Police.

He realizes that Charlie was right all those weeks back, when she said Dean was more talkative than he looked. Castiel forgets feeling uncomfortable and Dean forgets to be shy. They talk about music and movies and comics. Dean loves Star Wars, but Castiel is deeply offended when he finds out Dean never saw a single Harry Potter movie. He does love Lord of the Rings though, and they lose track of time talking about which movie was the best.

When they hear Chuck coming home, Castiel suddenly realizes how late it is.

“It’s almost seven, Dean, don’t you need to go home?”

Dean shrugs and he pulls his knees to his chest again, suddenly looking less comfortable and free.

“Nah, I’m… home alone with Sam today,” he says, looking at Castiel’s feet instead of his face. “But if you want me to…”

“Oh, no, you can stay over for dinner if you want.” Castiel suggests, already getting off the bed. “I’ll go ask my dad, it’s fine.”

“You don’t have to—” Dean begins, but Castiel holds up his hand and hurries downstairs.

Chuck takes off his glasses when Castiel asks him, cleaning them carefully as he thinks.

“Dean Winchester? The… assbutt?”

Castiel shuffles his feet, avoiding his father’s eyes.

“Yes, dad. That Dean Winchester. Sam’s brother.”

“I thought you didn’t like him.” Chuck frowns. Castiel can’t tell if he’s honestly confused or teasing him. Chuck puts his glasses back on with his eyebrows still raised.

“Well… we had our differences,” Cas stammers. “But they’re… they’re all cleared now. We were working on an essay and I’d like it if he stayed for dinner.”

“Very well, that’s all right. We’ll have dinner in half an hour. And Castiel,” he holds Castiel back before he can turn around. “I’m glad to hear you made up with Dean. I’m proud of you.”

Chapter Text

"Are you sure it's okay?" Dean asks for the second time as they walk downstairs half an hour later.

"Yes, Dean." Castiel turns around on the stairs, raising his eyebrows. "Sam has stayed over many times, and so can you. We enjoy the company." Dean nods but doesn't seem very convinced. They sit down just as Chuck puts the last things on the table. Sam grins widely at Dean and goes to sit next to his brother. Gabriel hops down next to Castiel and wraps an arm around him.

"So, how's my little brother doing?"

"Better before you started choking me," Castiel says as he rolls his eyes.

"You just don't accept my brotherly love." Gabriel sighs dramatically and winks when he sees Sam stare at them.

Sam relaxes and gives his own brother another grin when Chuck sits down.

"Guests first." Chuck nods at Dean and Sam with a smile, handing them the spoon. Dean seems almost frozen, nothing of his talkative attitude from before is left. He looks way more like the guy Castiel knows from school. Quiet, attentive, looking for danger like a deer looking for its hunter.

Sam takes the spoon instead and starts putting food on Dean's plate first. Gabriel, who didn't notice the sudden silence, asks his father about his current work. Castiel is grateful for it, because now the focus isn't on Dean he seems to relax a bit. He still looks confused when Sam puts the plate in front of him.

"Are you sure?" he says softly, only Sam and Castiel hearing him.

"There's enough." Sam answers. The look he gives Dean is one of someone way older than eleven, someone equal to Dean. It catches Cas off guard for just a moment, but then Dean looks his way and Castiel stares at his plate, ashamed, as if he’s intruding upon something private. In some way, he actually did.

Castiel tries not to look Dean's way too often, but he ends up doing it anyways. At first, Dean just sits, looking at the others, at Sam and Castiel mostly. When Alfie and Sam are focused on each other and Chuck and Gabriel are still wrapped up in their conversation, Dean starts eating as well.

He eats fast and though he tries to keep it neat, Castiel can see how difficult it is for Dean to contain himself. He works down his food in the fastest way possible without being impolite and when he thinks no one is looking, he closes his eyes with content. It hits Castiel that for him to be this hungry, Dean probably had no food at all today. Castiel doesn’t notice he puts an empty fork into his own mouth, focused on Dean. He stares until Dean looks up and their eyes meet a second time. Castiel shamefully breaks their eye contact.

When they finish dinner, Dean and Sam get ready to go home. Castiel walks towards the Impala with them.

"Dean," Castiel says when Sam's already inside. He doesn't know what exactly he wants to say. He wants to address what he saw during dinner, Dean's hunger, but he doesn't want to make him uncomfortable. But Castiel feels like there's something wrong.

"Come over any time you want. Sam, too. Know you're always welcome here."

Dean grips the handle of the door and nods. He quickly looks up at Cas. "Yeah, okay. Thanks for dinner and… everything."

"No problem." Castiel says as Dean opens the door. "See you at school."

"See ya, Cas." Dean slams the door and starts the engine.

As he drives off, he holds up his hand and Sam waves from the back. Castiel watches the car drive off and disappear behind the corner.

He does see Dean at school on Monday, but it isn't in their first period. Castiel notices the empty seat next to him right away. At first, he thinks Dean is just late, but the seat remains empty for the rest of the hour. He wonders if it would be weird to text Dean to ask where he is. But when he gets to History, Dean is already there. He’s in the back of the class, his eyeliner bold, the piercing in his lip glistening provocatively in the strong, fluorescent light.

Cas sees Charlie sit down at the table next to Dorothy, so he walks over to Dean and puts his bag on the desk next to him.

"Hey, where were you?" Castiel asks as he gets his books out of his bag.

"Oh, hey." Dean says and his frown softens into a genuine smile. But he doesn't answer Castiel's question.

"Is everything okay?" Cas asks, not sure if he should just leave Dean alone or try to help him. He can see Dean is bothered with something, despite that smile, despite the fact that he seems to get more energetic now that there's someone talking to him.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Nothing I can't handle," Dean says and though he sounds honest, Castiel isn't content with the answer.

Dean seems fine during the rest of the class, he even laughs when Cas mutters something about people being blind to think that Alexander the Great wasn't having an affair with Hephaestion. But Castiel doesn’t forget the way Dean had looked when he’d walked in.

Castiel meets up with Charlie and Dorothy at lunch a few hours later. He finds himself looking for Dean in the cafeteria. At last, he notices Dean as he passes their table, focused more on his phone than the people around him.

"Hey, Dean!" Charlie calls, kicking Castiel under the table. Cas blushes. Dean looks up and wanders over to them, hesitant as always, as if he doesn’t want to interrupt them.

"Hey," he says, mindlessly running his tongue over the piercing in his lower lip and puts his phone away.

"Do you wanna sit with us?" Charlie asks, looking at Cas for a moment. She looks like she’s testing Castiel out, but he tries to ignore her. Dean seems to think for a moment, then nods and sits down at the empty place next to Cas.

"Didn't you get any food?" Castiel asks when Dean leans back against the wall.

"No, I, uh, forgot my money." Dean shrugs.

"Here," Cas pushes his plate in front of Dean. "I had enough, there's plenty."

Dean almost glares at him, his necklaces jangling together with his sudden movement. But Castiel doesn’t feel the need to defend himself. The way Dean had been gulping down his food that weekend, as if it'd be the only thing he'd have in a long time (and the best food he ever tasted), Castiel can somehow not quite believe that Dean just 'forgot' his money. Dean obviously needs, and wants, the food more than Cas does.

"Cas, dude, I can't just—"

"You can. Eat." Castiel puts the fork in one of the cubes of fruit and pushes it closer to Dean.

Dean looks at him as if he wants to refuse again, but Castiel looks back, determined. He's not going to let him get away with this.

"I'll pay you back," he mutters as he pulls the food closer and starts to eat. It's not the most delicious thing in the world, but Dean eats everything with remarkable speed. Charlie gives Cas a silent, questioning look, but Castiel just shakes his head. He watches Dean eat with an almost proud smile on his face as Charlie and Dorothy talk about their drama class. Dean looks at them, listening but not saying a word as he eats the rests of Castiel's lunch.

That isn't the last time Dean sits with them during lunch. At first, Castiel or Charlie have to ask him to sit with them, but eventually he takes the initiative himself and after a few weeks, it feels like it's always been that way. They soon find out that Dean never brings money for lunch, and never packs food with him either. Sometimes he has half of a sandwich, but that's all he takes. So Castiel keeps sharing his food with him. Dean keeps trying to say no, until Castiel threatens with buying a full meal for Dean next to his own. Dean keeps muttering something about Castiel being 'crazy' and promising to pay him back, but Castiel shrugs it off every time. Dean starts coming over more often as well. At first, it's just when they have to do homework together. After the A+ they got on their essay, they're sure to work together more often.

But Dean starts staying after they’ve finished their homework and they spend hours just talking or playing a game on Balthazar’s old PS4. It’s almost as if they have always been friends. Soon, Dean is at the Shurley’s nearly as much as Sam. He changes when he’s there. He smiles more than he does at school and he looks almost entirely comfortable around Cas. Almost.

Castiel can’t put his finger on it. He can’t name it, but Dean sometimes looks unsure. One Friday evening after they had dinner, it gets too apparent to ignore.

Dean and Sam already stayed late. It’s almost 9:00 p.m. but Alfie and Sam are still watching a movie. Dean had grown more quiet after dinner and now he’s throwing glances at Sam every once in a while. It looks like he doesn’t want to tell Sam they should go. Castiel can’t help but feel bad for them. He sees the way they grow quiet whenever they get ready to go home, too.

“Dean,” Cas says promptly. “You two can stay the night, if you want.”

Dean looks at him. “What?” he asks. “Cas, you don’t have to—. We’re fine, you know.”

“I know I don’t have to, but I can. We have enough room.”

Dean turns away from Sam and tries to avoid Castiel’s glance.

“Listen,” he mutters so the younger boys don’t hear him. “If you’re doing this, all of this, giving me your food, having me stay over, just because… Because you feel like you have to make up to me or somethin’, you don’t have to, okay?” He brushes past Castiel towards the hall. Cas can’t think for a moment, confused by what Dean just said. Then Cas hastens after him.

“Dean, wait—” he begins. Dean is grabbing his jacket, but Cas pushes himself in between the coat rack and Dean. “You think I’m doing this to say sorry? All this time? Dean, I like it when you’re over and when you spend time here and I want to share my food with you because—because you’re… my friend.”

“I’m your—? Oh.” Dean swallows and quiets down. They look at each other in silence and the low light of the hall.

Castiel suddenly realizes Dean is taller than him now they’re standing so close together.

“I mean—” Dean begins again. “You’re my… friend, too, but you don’t have to try and help me. We can manage. I can.”

“I know,” Castiel says. “Nothing you can’t handle, huh?”

Dean smiles down at his feet. “Yeah.” He snorts. “Something like that.”

Cas hesitates before gently putting his hand on Dean’s upper arm.

“Stay.” Dean had stirred when Cas touched him, but now he looks up. “Of course you can manage on your own, but that doesn’t mean we can’t have a… sleepover.” Castiel smiles at him.

Dean chuckles and looks down. He nods in the dim light.

“You have a point, Shurley.”

Cas brushes past Dean’s shoulder, back to the living room.

“Let’s go tell Sam and Alfie.”

The faces of the two young friends light up when Dean tells them, kneeling down in between them.

Sam wraps his arms around his older brother and beams at him brightly.

“But,” Sam says as his smile fades slightly. “What about dad?”

Dean’s face hardens.

“Don’t worry ‘bout him, Sammy.” Dean ruffles the boy’s hair as he gets up. He gives Cas a quick look that seems almost on accident. “Dad doesn’t need us home tonight.”

He walks over to Cas as the boys focus back on the movie. They figure Dean can sleep in Balthazar’s old room. Sam and Alfie insisted they want to sleep on the couches. They drag blankets and pillows over to the living room with Chuck’s help, who tells Dean and Cas to go upstairs.

They both end up on Balthazar’s bed, playing one of Balthazar’s old PlayStation games. Castiel can’t help looking at Dean every once in a while. It takes him a while to realize why he looks… different. But all the pieces fall in place when Dean looks back at him. He just easily slayed Castiel’s character and he snickers at him, punching his shoulder playfully.

After Cas told Dean that he’s his friend, Dean’s discreet insecurity has gone. Castiel smiles. Sitting here with Dean suddenly feels like the best thing ever; this is the best place to be. He wouldn’t want anything else in the world.

When they’re both too lazy to brutally murder each other, Cas looks up the Lord of the Rings movie they decided to watch as Dean takes off his piercings, carefully placing them on the night stand. Suddenly feeling a little awkward, Cas turns around to look at him.

“Do you, uh, need like pajamas or something? I’m sure you could borrow some.”

“Nah, I’m fine.” Dean shakes his head. “Do you maybe have, like, a spare toothbrush or something?”

Cas finds one for Dean and goes back upstairs, feeling gawky in the bathroom at the same time as Dean, invading somehow.

He goes to his own room and changes into sweatpants. When he gets back into Balthazar’s room, Dean’s already there and he turns to face Cas. Whenever Castiel is shirtless around girls (only after baseball games or that one accident with Garth during science for example), Castiel hates their eyes burning on his skin. But now Dean’s looking at him, eyes lingering at his bare chest, and Castiel doesn’t mind it at all. There’s a bit of toothpaste at the side of Dean’s mouth and his flannel is only partially unbuttoned.

“Do you mind if I—?” Dean breaks the silence moving his shirt a little.

“No, of course,” Cas says with a breathless laugh. He doesn’t know what to do or where to look, so after a few moments he goes downstairs to brush his teeth as well.

Dean is on the bed when Cas gets back, his bare chest decorated with black and colored ink. He doesn’t seem to mind that Castiel is looking as he sits down on his knees next to him, and Dean follows his glance.

“They’re beautiful,” Cas says softly, in awe of the colorful art.

“You think?” Dean sounds surprised. “I mean, hardly anyone is positive about them. It’s as if I insult them by having these on my skin.”

Now that Cas is this close, he can’t believe anyone would be insulted by such works of art, such beauty. He stares at the tattoo on Dean’s right shoulder which extends down his chest: a raven in black, dark blues, and soft greens and purples. He now realizes that’s the tattoo he sometimes saw parts of when Dean was wearing tank tops. On his left chest is a symbol, something Castiel doesn’t recognize. He’s already seen the red and orange fox on Dean’s right bicep plenty of times, just like the tree on the inside of his left forearm.

Castiel’s eyes glide down to Dean’s stomach. He still stands by what he thought weeks ago: Dean is handsome, even more now that he’s so close. There’s a water lily in purple and pink on the left side of his stomach, the colors almost magical, and a pattern of green leaves on his right hip, following the curve.

“Dean,” Cas mutters after a long silence. “Do you… want to tell me what they mean?”

He looks up. Dean stares back at Cas before answering.

“Yeah, sure.” Dean sits up. “This—” He places his hand on the fox. “—is the second one I got. A fox is intelligent and cunning. A quick thinker. It reminds me of Sammy.” He laughs softly. “Helps me remember to use my brain sometimes.” He slides his hand over to the raven on his shoulder and chest. “Ravens are always seen as a sign of death and bad fortune, but they were also messengers of Apollo. They got punished and painted black because they were chatterboxes. My raven got colors because judging can lead to bad things. They’re dark creatures maybe, but there’s always some color left in them.”

Cas has shifted closer, his knees touching Dean’s leg. Neither of them seems to mind.

“And that one?” he asks curiously, pointing at the symbol on Dean’s chest.

“It’s uh—” Dean chuckles. “Kind of a family tradition, actually. Everyone in my family has one, Sammy will too when he’s old enough.” Dean looks up at Cas. “My family believed it holds away evil, demons, y’know. When I was little, my parents always told me the same story. My ancestors were… notorious, ill-famed. To show the other people in town that they weren’t demons, they carved this sign into their chests and spoke an exorcism. The people believed that that would kill a demon and send them back to hell. But my ancestors lived, which was proof for the other people in town that they weren’t possessed. It’s how they gained respect and friendships. Ever since, our family used this sign as an honor, precaution, and tradition.”

“Wow,” Castiel whispers. He reaches out as if to touch it, then pulls away, blushing.

“I don’t bite.” Dean grins.

Cas carefully brushes his finger over the ink, following the symbol. Dean’s skin is warm and there’s a few freckles on his chest. He traces the lines of ink with his fingers, not sure why, but he trails the entire tattoo.

“I never knew—. That’s so…” He searches for the right word. “Fascinating.” He pulls his hand away. “And the lily?”

Dean lightly touches the purple flower on his stomach.

“Actually Sam’s idea, to be completely honest. It stands for purity and faith. I don’t have a lot of faith, so Sam suggested I should get this tattoo as a reminder.” He shifts so Cas can see the leaves on his hip. “Life’s cycle,” Dean says simply and leans back down, and stretching out his lower left arm to show the tree. He doesn’t say anything.

“What does it mean?” Cas asks hesitantly. “You don’t have to say if you don’t want to.”

They sit together in silence as Dean stares at the menu screen of Lord of the Rings, which they didn’t even put on yet. Castiel wants to change the subject, but Dean suddenly speaks.

“Where… Where is your mom, Cas?”

It seems like an entire different subject, but Dean’s arm is still outstretched. He doesn’t look at Cas.

“She—” Cas swallows. “She left us when Alfie was just a baby for a rich businessman. Haven’t heard from her since. I barely remember her.”

Dean nods and swallows, too.

“My mom died when I was six,” he says as if it’s nothing, short and rough, but his eyes are filled unmistakably with sorrow. “I do remember her. But for a while all I remembered was her taking us, me and Sammy, into the forest in the winter. She showed us the snow on the trees and told us about how in spring the snow would melt and new leaves would grow. As a kid I always hoped that her death was the same. I’d only have to wait until the snow melted and she’d come back, just like those leaves. But all that stayed was a bare tree.”

Castiel doesn’t know what to say. Saying he’s sorry sounds so empty, useless. Dean doesn’t seem to expect him to talk either, so Cas looks at the tree on Dean’s arm. It suddenly means so much more than just some ink on skin.

“Do you miss her a lot?” Cas shifts and leans back against the pillows, next to Dean. The skin that had been touching Dean’s feels cold now.

Dean hums and nods. “Every day.” He looks at Cas. “You?”

Castiel shrugs and looks at the raven tattoo.

“Not really, I think. There isn’t much to miss. I don’t know if she actually cared about me at all.” He laughs softly. “But I’ve got my dad and my brothers.”

“Yeah, I got Sammy.” Dean reaches over for the remote, they still haven’t put on the movie and it’s already late. “I’m happy to have him.”

Cas feels like it’s better not to ask about Dean’s father. He obviously doesn’t mention him on purpose and their conversation has already been quite deep.

“Sam’s happy to have you too, Dean.”

Dean bites away a smile and hands Cas the remote.

“Let’s watch.”

Chapter Text

When Castiel wakes up the next morning, he doesn’t know where he is at first. It’s not his bedroom, the light’s coming from a different angle and this ceiling isn’t his. After a few moments he realizes it’s Balthazar’s room. Apparently, he fell asleep here yesterday. He’s still on top of the sheets and he hears soft buzzing from the TV they left on. A steady, deep breathing sounds from next to him. Dean is asleep, face slightly turned away from Castiel. His hand, however, lays next to Castiel, fingers against his waist.

It tingles. Cas holds his breath without noticing and Dean shifts in his sleep, his hand brushing up Castiel’s waist. It’s barely a real touch but it leaves goosebumps on Cas’ skin. Dean’s hair is a mess around his face, his lips are parted slightly and he doesn’t seem like the mysterious punk anymore. Cas watches him sleep, thinking about their conversation yesterday.

How could he ever hate this guy? He looks so quiet, peaceful, and… vulnerable. There’s something he isn’t telling Cas but Castiel knows that, if he needs to know, Dean will tell him in time.

Dean shifts again and Cas looks away, embarrassed that he was staring, embarrassed that he feels this way.

It’s nothing. It’s because Dean is his friend and Cas can’t deny that he’s an attractive guy. But that’s everything, there’s nothing more than that. Just… attractive.

He slowly shifts away from Dean and gets up from the bed, his skin still tingling.

From his own room, he gets a sweater and a pair of jeans, sees on the clock that it’s 9:00 a.m. and decides to go downstairs.

Alfie and Sam are still in their pajamas at the table, working down their breakfast. Chuck is in a long, dark blue bathrobe on the other side of the table, reading the newspaper.

“Good morning, Castiel,” his father says from behind his paper. “Did you two boys sleep well?”

“Yeah, I hope it’s okay we borrowed Balthazar’s bed.” Castiel gets out two coffee cups, wonders when Dean will get up, and decides to not pour in coffee yet.

“As long as you change the sheets.” Chuck takes a sip of his drink. Castiel catches a glimpse of his knowing, significant glance Castiel’s way.

Castiel’s ears turn red.

“Oh, I—. That might not… We didn’t—I don’t think that’s necessary,” he stutters, spilling a bit of coffee over his mug.

“All right then. Just make sure you do if Balthazar decides to come over. You know how he is.” Chuck flips a page in the newspaper and Cas turns his back to him, shamefaced.

Does his father really think that they…? Or didn’t he mean anything with…?

“Morning.” Cas almost drops his mug when Dean walks in.

“Hey,” he says, trying very hard to not look at his father. “You slept well?”

Dean is in his shirt from yesterday and his boxershorts, and Cas suddenly spots the little Batman logo on the band. He smiles.

“Like a rock.” Dean stifles a yawn. “Hey, Sammy, don’t play with your food.”

Cas fills another mug for Dean who takes it with care. They lean against the counter together, talking quietly as they sip their steaming caffeine.

It feels like Chuck is constantly watching them but whenever Castiel dares to look his way, his father is reading his newspaper.

The way Dean and Cas get closer every day is so noticeable to not only Castiel but also to others. No one is surprised anymore when they sit next to each other in class or do a project together. They hang out almost every day if Dean doesn’t have to work, do homework at Castiel’s, and text each other until either of them falls asleep.

Castiel is aware of how his own thoughts change, too. Whenever Dean is around, he can’t stop looking at him, can’t stop laughing at every joke he makes. He feels so lucky to be friends with Dean, to see him every day. When his phone buzzes and it’s a text from Dean, Castiel can’t wait to answer but holds himself back to not look too eager. He worries about his own looks more than before, spending an extra few minutes on his hair every morning. When Dean isn’t at school, Castiel worries. Dean often messages him that he’s fine, but Castiel can’t always believe him. He comes to school with bruises some day, says that it’s no big deal and that he’s fine, but Castiel doesn’t miss the expression filled with pain when Dean accidentally bumps his bruised side against a table or his distant, glazed eyes during history class.

When Dean is okay, he laughs and jokes and teases Castiel and then it feels like there’s nothing wrong at all. Dean is going through something heavy, and yet he is bright, gracious, and unselfish. And sometimes, when Dean can’t control his laughter or when he looks at Castiel a little too long, smiling, Castiel has a quiet hope that he is part of that joy.

When they sit together in the cafeteria one day, doing homework, Dean’s leg brushes against Castiel’s. Cas doesn’t know if it’s intentional, but a shiver runs over his spine and his heart starts beating faster. He acts as if nothing’s going on and presses his knee against Dean’s, so gentle it could be an accident. Dean, still focused on the book they’re sharing, seems to have no idea that their knees are pressed together now. Castiel doesn’t change his comfortable position and neither does Dean. They sit like that for the rest of the hour, pretending not to notice how close they are.

There are more moments where Castiel seems to get lost in Dean, or moments where Dean does something and Castiel wonders if he does it on purpose or not. He never seems to notice and never tries to do more, but there’s certainly something. Dean’s hand is often on Cas’ shoulder while it doesn’t have to be. When Cas makes a joke, he sometimes rests his forehead on Castiel’s shoulder, body shaking with laughter. He never does that with other people. He teases Cas and whenever he can, Dean watches his baseball games and then waits for him so they can go home together. He doesn’t have to, but he does, and Castiel isn’t complaining.

Dean watches practice one day. Sam is away on a field trip and Dean has to wait until he’s back, so once Castiel is done they lay on the grass behind school, using their bags as pillows.

“Kevin almost got you, man,” Dean grins. “Your hit wasn’t that strong.”

“Shut up.” Castiel had been looking at Dean sitting on the bench and had almost missed the ball; he only just made it to the second base. “Are you implying I’m losing strength?”

“I might.” Dean smirks, his eyes closed with his face turned to the sun.

“You want to test that?” Cas asks, and Dean looks at him, hand over his eyes. “I don’t think you could beat me.” It’s an excuse for Cas to touch Dean, but before he is ready, Dean has tumbled over him. They roll around in the grass, laughing as they try to get each other down. Castiel feels every brush of skin as fire through his body, he drags it out until Dean almost wins, but Cas rolls him around one last time. Straddling him, he chuckles and holds Dean’s hands down. “You were saying?”

“All right, Mufasa, you win.” Dean smiles up at him, out of breath. Castiel lingers in his position, then slowly moves and lays down next to Dean, closer than before. “Wait,” Dean says as he takes out his phone. “We gotta take a picture.”

“Why?” Castiel frowns, turning his head to Dean. His nose almost touches Dean’s hair when Dean looks at him as well, their faces only a few inches apart.

“All friends need a photo, right?” Castiel doesn’t want to complain, so he shifts closer to fit in the frame. Dean has an old phone, the camera isn’t great but neither of them minds. The picture turns out to be beautiful.

“I’ll send it to you tonight,” Dean says. He jumps up, brushes the dirt from his shirt, and stretches his hand out to Cas. “It’s time to get Sammy. You coming?” Castiel grabs his hand and pulls himself up, holding Dean’s hand a bit too long. They don’t say anything about it.

It’s days later and Cas still looks at the picture on the background of his phone all the time. Their hair is messy and their cheeks flushed, but Dean’s smile is turned toward Cas in the picture, and it’s hard for him not to look at it. Castiel is alone, late at night, trying to read, but he keeps picking up his phone.

But now, he puts his phone away, determined to focus on his book. Before he can even finish his page, though, his phone starts ringing. His confusion turns into worry when he sees that it’s Dean.

“Hello, Dean.” He gets up, suddenly restless with concern. Dean never calls, he always texts, and it alarms Cas.

“Um, hey.” Dean’s voice is shaking. “Cas, can I… could I maybe—” Dean takes a deep breath. “Can I bring Sammy over there for the night? I kinda need a—a good place for him ‘cos I don’t want to… bother my dad.”

Cas can hear Dean is on the verge of tears; his breathing is shivery and fast as he stammers out his words.

“Of course,” Cas says immediately. He doesn’t know what exactly is going on but Dean’s voice says enough. “You and Sam are always welcome. Where are you gonna stay?” Something told him that home wasn’t an option.

“Thanks, Cas, I—thank you.” There’s a silence. “I uh… I can find a place, no big deal, I don’t want to bother—”

“No, Dean. You’re staying here, too. No excuses, there’s enough room. Shall we pick you up?”

Cas looks at the clock. It’s a little after 11:00 p.m. and despite not knowing what exactly was going on, he hopes Dean and Sam are at least safe.

“No, Cas, we’re in the car already. Thanks, man, I don’t know what I’d…” He stops his own sentence. “We’ll be there in five if… if that’s okay.”

“Of course.” Castiel hesitates. “Be safe, Dean.”

He hangs up and bites his lip, looking outside into the dark night. He stays at the window until he can see the familiar black Impala drive onto his street. Relieved, he hurries outside and goes over to the car as Dean and Sam get out with two old duffel bags.

“Hey,” Dean says as he closes the trunk and looks up at Cas.

Even in the dark, Cas can see that there’s blood on his face. There’s a cut on his forehead and there’s blood on his cheek and lips as well. Partly dried, partly fresh.

“Jesus, Dean, what happened?” Castiel blurts. “You—you’re… Are you all right? What—who…?”

“Please.” Dean walks towards the door with Sam and Cas follows, noticing Dean’s heavy limp. “I want Sam to go to bed quickly, if that’s okay.”

Castiel nods, too overwhelmed to protest. Once they’re inside the warm house, he closes the door. In this light, Dean’s face looks even worse. The blood is smeared over the side of his head as well, over his ear, his neck and his clothes are bloody and ripped.

Dean kneels down in front of Sam and helps him get his jacket off. Sam’s hand glides over Dean’s clean cheek. This tired little boy sniffles and wraps his arms around his older brother’s neck, hiding his face in Dean’s shoulder.

He mutters something and Dean holds him, eyes closing.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” he whispers and presses a kiss into the boy’s hair. “We’re okay. We’re with the Shurleys now, yeah?”

Sam pulls away and nods, rubbing his nose. He looks at Cas and tries to blink away his tears.

“It’s okay,” Castiel says though he doesn’t feel okay at all. The brothers look more tired than ever and God, Dean’s face…“Let’s get you into Balthazar’s bed, okay? Alfie’s already asleep, but you can see him tomorrow.”

The three go upstairs and Cas and Dean help Sam into bed. He looks even smaller in the queen sized bed, surrounded by pillows and blankets.

“Go to my room when you’re done,” Cas tells Dean when Dean sits down with Sam.

Back downstairs, Castiel bumbles around in the kitchen until he finds a bowl and the first aid kit. He clumsily fills the bowl with water, grabs fresh, clean towels from the bathroom, and, as he passes the fridge, he remembers there’s some leftover chicken. Dean looked like he could use some food, as always.

Of course, Castiel really should wake up his father, but Castiel feels like Dean wouldn’t appreciate that.

When he reaches his bedroom, Dean is sitting on Castiel’s bed. He already took off his shoes and dirty shirt. He looks up when Cas walks in, surprised at the amount of things in Castiel’s arms.

“Cas, what are you—?”

“Sit back,” Castiel orders. “Sit back against the pillows and tell me what hurts most. You looked hungry so I brought you food as well.”

Dean does as Castiel says, a little surprised still. Cas climbs on the bed. He hands Dean the leftovers, places the bowl of water in front of him, takes the towel in his hand, and opens the first aid kit next to him. He dips the towel in the warm water and starts to gently pat on Dean’s bloodied forehead.

“My… forehead is the worst.” Dean says quietly. He gestures at the wound. “My leg hurts too but it’ll be fine.” Castiel knows Dean is tired when he doesn’t even hesitate grabbing the food closer and starts working it down quickly, trying not to move his head.

“Dean, please—tell me what happened? Who did this to you?” Cas stops cleaning for a moment and looks at him, trying to be angry and stern. But Dean just shakes his head, mouth filled with chicken.

“Sorry,” he mumbles and looks at Castiel, tired but pleading. “I—I just… got into something stupid. I’ll tell you later—just… not now, okay?”

“Was it… your father?”

“No, Cas, I said not now! Shut it, okay?”

Dean doesn’t meet his eyes; his sudden outburst surprised them both.

Cas just nods. “Sorry.” He continues cleaning, his fingers gentle but quick. Soon, all of the blood is cleaned from Dean’s face and neck and Cas reaches for the first aid kit. He finds gauze and tape. “Here—” Cas takes Dean’s non-greasy hand and guides it to press the gauze gently on the wound. “Careful.” He cuts off the tape with precision. “Just… promise me,” he says as he carefully puts the tape over the gauze. “Don’t get into fights anymore, Dean.”

Dean stays quiet. He holds the gauze until Castiel finished, following Castiel’s actions with his tired eyes.

“Seems like you know what you’re doing,” he says, surprised. “You secretly a nurse?” Dean grins at Cas and despite the situation, Castiel smiles back.

“My older brother Lucius used to get into a lot of fights when he was younger,” Castiel admits. “Balthazar taught me how to clean and tend to wounds, just in case he wasn’t there.”

Dean nods and lowers his hand. “Thanks, Cas.”

Castiel sighs as he looks at Dean. There’s a sudden image in his head of leaning forward and kissing him right here, but he pushes it away. Thoughts like that don’t belong in situations like this.

“Let me see your leg.”

Dean hesitates, then seems to decide to stay where he is. Cas doesn’t know why, maybe because it hurts too much to move, but Dean eventually unbuckles his belt and unzips his fly.

Cas watches, ashamed but unable to look away. Dean’s legs are those of a grown man, muscled and tough. Thick thighs and hips that have Castiel distracted.

He doesn’t want to feel this way, especially not right now when Dean needs his help and not his teenage hormones. But it’s extremely difficult to ignore the fact that Dean is in his bed, almost naked, and that Cas is sitting there with him.

“Man, I feel underdressed,” Dean jokes as if he can hear his thoughts, and Cas blushes, trying not to look too much when Dean throws his jeans down with his bloodied shirt on the floor.

“Is that the line you use to get all the girls out of their clothes, Winchester?” he jokes, but there’s a little tension in his shoulders.

“Well, does it work?”

They look at each other, examining. Castiel tries to read Dean, to read what he means with this. Is he just joking or is it more? It shouldn’t be of import right now, but Cas’ heart is hammering in his chest anyways.

“Well, I’m not a girl.” Cas points out. Before he can change his mind, he grabs the hem of his shirt and lifts it, sliding the shirt off and throws it down on the floor. “But yes, it works. Now let me see that leg.”

Dean chuckles and turns his leg so Castiel can see the swollen part. There’s no blood, just an obvious spot that’ll turn into all sorts of colors in the next few days. His ankle is the same, swollen and a little red.

“There’s not much we can do,” Cas explains. “Except for putting ice on it and giving it a little rest.”

Dean shakes his head. “Nah, I’m fine, no need for that.” He checks out the bruise himself and shrugs. “Could’ve been worse.”

Castiel knows protesting is not an option. Besides, he’s glad he was allowed to take care of Dean’s forehead.

“All right,” he says softly. He gets up and starts gathering the things he used to bring them back downstairs. Dean is leaning back into the pillows more now, his eyes closed.

“Sorry I’m stealin’ your bed,” Dean slurs with closed eyes. “It’s very nice.”

Cas smiles. “No need to apologize. I’ll bring this downstairs.”

He locks up once he put everything back and goes back upstairs. When he checks Balthazar’s room, Sam is sound asleep, his arm wrapped around a stuffed animal in the shape of a moose.

Castiel is suddenly overwhelmed by a nostalgia he can’t place. It’s not his own, it’s that of the Winchester brothers. A moment in their life where they didn’t have any troubles or pain, in which they are as peaceful as Sam is right here.

He gently closes the door.

Back in his room, Dean makes a soft noise when Castiel comes in. Cas hesitates in the doorway, wondering what to do.

“C’mere,” Dean mutters. “Bed’s big enough.”

Cas closes his door, shuts off the light, and makes his way to the bed. He slips out of his sweatpants and sits down next to Dean in the dark. Dean’s silhouette shifts and he whispers something that sounds like an apology.

“It’s okay,” Castiel answers just as quietly. “Goodnight, Dean.”

“Night, Cas.”

Dean falls asleep quickly, tired from his injuries. Castiel lays awake for a while and listens to the calming sound of Dean’s breathing. How good would it be to fall asleep to this every night, to feel his warmth and hear his gentle snoring every night?

With this moony image settled into his brain, Castiel eventually falls asleep.

Chapter Text

It feels like the morning comes faster than normal. Castiel doesn’t want to admit to it yet, unaware of what time or day it is and unable to care. Despite it only being a few hours, Cas slept better than ever. He wakes up with his blankets pushed away to the side, his head resting against Dean’s shoulder. Dean’s hand is on Castiel’s stomach and Dean is still asleep, his fingers ghosting over Cas’ bare skin at the rise of his breath.

For now, Cas is too tired to be ashamed, to roll away. It’s too early to wonder if this is wrong. It feels too good for any of that. Castiel stays where he is, enjoying the way it feels to rest on Dean’s shoulder and look at his gentle expression. It doesn’t take long before he dozes off again, giving in to the peaceful silence.

When he wakes up again, Dean is gone. Castiel sits up and stretches, rubbing a hand over his face and through his hair. Just when he wonders where Dean has gone, the door opens and Dean comes in with two mugs of coffee.

“Morning, Cas.” Dean sits down at the side of the bed and hands him one. “Here.”

“Thanks,” Cas says, his voice still filled with sleep. “Why did you—?”

“To thank you for being an excellent doctor yesterday. And letting me steal your bed.”

Cas actually wants to thank Dean for sleeping in his bed, but he just smiles and takes a sip; Dean had remembered he drinks it black.

“How do you feel?” Castiel asks and shifts so he can sit cross-legged.

“Better.” Dean nods and looks at him. Castiel wonders how Dean woke up and how he had felt finding Castiel so close to him. He doesn’t seem uneasy.

“Good,” Cas says as his eyes shift over the tattoos on Dean’s chest. “We should check your head tonight, maybe put on a fresh bandage.”

Dean lowers his mug. “Shouldn’t we, y’know, leave today?” His fingers glide into the handle and he picks his coffee up again, taking a sip.

“Not if you don’t want to,” Cas says. “Not if you’re not… safe.”

“We will be, tomorrow morning.” He doesn’t say anything for a while, in deep thought. “I—I’ll explain everything when I can, okay?”

Cas nods. He sits with Dean and they drink their coffee, talk about school and Sam. Soon Cas can ignore that Dean is hiding something and that he can’t stop staring at the way Dean’s hair curls, the freckles on his nose and cheeks, the green of his eyes, and the beginning of a stubble on his strong jaw. A few days without shaving, and Dean would look years older. Maybe Cas himself should grow a stronger stubble as well. Castiel imagines Dean with a darker stubble and he smiles, unable to hold it in.

“What?” Dean asks. “Why are you smiling?”

“Oh, nothing.” Castiel shrugs. “Have you ever considered a scruff?”

Dean brushes his hand over his jaw and frowns, as if he’s thinking about it.

“Not really, why?” He raises his eyebrows.

“Just curious.” Castiel finishes his coffee and gets up from the bed. “Let’s go get breakfast.”

Downstairs, Alfie and Sam are already at the table with Gabriel working on breakfast.

“Hey,” Dean huffs and goes over to Sam who immediately turns around to look at Dean’s forehead. He touches the gauze as if to approve and looks at Castiel.

“Thank you.” Sam says, and once more, he seems so much older than eleven.

“That’s some nice ink you got there.” Gabriel points out. “Where’d you get it?”

Dean seems surprised by Gabriel’s sudden question, his eyes shifting to Cas before answering.

“Uh, just… just a friend,” he says. “Professional tattoo shops are so expensive and his dad’s a tattoo artist and he learned from him, so…”

“They did an awesome job,” Gabriel smiles, then looks directly at Castiel. “Pretty nice, right?” His eyes say that he means more than just the tattoos.

“Yeah, they’re awesome.” Cas says and looks at Dean. He’s way more surprised by what Dean just said to really bother with Gabriel because he knows who Dean is talking about. There’s only one guy whose father is a tattoo artist.

When they’re alone in the kitchen making breakfast, Castiel turns to Dean.

“Did Crowley really do your tattoos?”

Dean turns red.

“Yes.” He pulls Castiel’s plate closer and slides a pancake onto it, already busy making a second. “He, uh… insists that I don’t pay. Just fix his car if it breaks or something.”

“I never thought Crowley…” Cas bites his lip. “He just doesn’t seem like the person to do that. But, as you know, my first opinion on people isn’t always the right one.”

Dean gives Castiel a playful smile. When their eyes meet and Cas’ eyes are serious, Dean’s smile turns into a sudden outburst of laughter. Dean’s entire body moves with the laugh, head thrown back, shoulders shaking. Castiel can’t help but laugh as well now, captivated by Dean’s joy. Dean playfully hits Cas’ bare arm and continues making the pancakes.

After finishing their breakfast, Cas decides they can’t walk around in their boxers all day. He doesn’t add that he wouldn’t be so opposed to it, though.

Dean’s clothes from yesterday are bloodied and dirty and Cas keeps Dean from putting them back on.

“We have some old clothes from my brothers lying around. I think Lucifer’s style will fit yours pretty well.”

“Lucifer?” Dean asks with a little laugh. Castiel doesn’t understand why at first, trying to get his jeans on, clumsy because Dean is watching.

“Oh—” Cas laughs, grabbing a shirt from his closet. “I mean Lucius. He gave himself the nickname Lucifer when he was just a teen, thinking it was cool. We thought it’d stay for a year or so, but he’s in his twenties now and still uses it.”

“That’s… pretty crazy,” Dean admits as he follows Cas to Lucius’ old bedroom.

‘’He is pretty crazy,” Cas says and opens the closet, rummaging through the small piles of clothing. “Even more so than Gabriel.” He picks out a shirt and holds it out to Dean. “Here. Black Sabbath.”

Dean takes the shirt, still a bit surprised, but he puts it on anyways. It isn’t a perfect fit, but it will do.

“Thanks,” Dean says as Cas hands him one of Lucifer’s old jeans. “I’ll give ‘em back soon.”

They spend the rest of the day outside, with Alfie and Sam who are playing in the garden. Cas and Dean run around with them for a while until Cas sees Dean starts limping again, and they settle down in the grass. Cas remembers they have an essay to finish and promises Dean they can work on it together. As Dean lets his leg rest, Cas goes inside and grabs his books, together with some food and an old blanket they use for picnics.

“Damn, Cas,” Dean says when Cas is back and helps him spread the blanket out. “You keep surprising me with amazing ideas.”

Castiel smiles, opening the book in between them and he grabs a pen. Dean’s compliment stays with him for the rest of the day.

David Bowie’s voice fills Castiel’s bedroom. Dean and Cas are laying on Cas’ bed, Dean staring up at the ceiling and Cas on his stomach, flipping through his math book but not really reading. He’d rather listen to Dean’s soft voice singing along.

“Planet Earth is blue, and there’s nothing I can do…” Dean’s fingers tap along to the music on his legs, and Cas hides his smile. He hums softly and catches Dean’s eyes, who just grins at him.

When the CD ends, Cas throws his math book on the floor. Dean gets up to the radio and changes the CD. Cas looks at his back, Lucius’ old shirt loose around his shoulders. Dean turns up the volume but doesn’t sit back down. He sways softly, his hips slowly picking up the slow rhythm of the song.

“There’s such a sad love, deep in your eyes…”

Castiel watches and Dean looks back but continues, as if Cas isn’t watching, or because he is.

“I'll place the moon, within your heart...”

Slowly, Dean makes his way to the bed and sits back down against the pillows. “Must be one of my favorite songs. And movies.”

“I’ve never seen it,” Cas admits. Dean’s eyebrows rise. “I never got the chance.”

Dean smiles. “You should. It’s a good movie.” He shifts closer, maybe on purpose, maybe without noticing, but Cas feels the heat of his body all of a sudden.

Feeling like he has to do something, he reaches out and touches the gauze on Dean’s forehead.

“Does it still hurt?”

Dean shakes his head. “You’ve taken good care of me.” He smiles. “Thank you.”

“Don’t mention it.” Cas’ cheeks flush a sudden, deep red. Dean is definitely closer now, his eyes gliding down to Castiel’s lips. Cas isn’t imagining this, he’s sure. Dean repositions himself and shifts forward, eyes gliding over Castiel’s face as if all he has to do is to remember it.

“All right,” Dean mutters. His hand reaches up and brushes a hair from Castiel’s forehead. Dean’s fingers glide down Castiel’s cheek and stay there. “Then I won’t.”

He reaches forward. Castiel can’t seem to move or think about what is happening, but his eyelids flutter close in expectation.

The door opens with a loud bang and Dean’s hand drops from Cas’ cheek.

“We got pie!” Alfie pants, Sam following close behind him. They don’t seem to notice the two boys shifting away from each other, their faces red and not looking at each other. “Dad wants you two to get downstairs to come take some, too.” Alfie turns back around.

“It’s pecan pie, Dean,” Sam adds before following his friend. “Your favorite.”

Castiel doesn’t know what would’ve happened if Dean kissed him that night. If Alfie and Sam hadn’t walked in, Cas wouldn’t have felt so wrong laying in bed with Dean later, afraid to touch him and scared he’d wake up curled up to him again. They don’t talk about it and both silently agree to act like nothing happened. Dean seems to act so normal Cas wonders if he really didn’t just made it up himself. But he knows that it’s true; Dean Winchester almost kissed him. A week has passed and he still thinks about it. Nights he lays awake and tries to recall that image of Dean leaning in, the way his green eyes had wandered over Castiel’s face and his hand softly brushing over his cheek. He listens to ‘As The World Falls Down’ over and over again until he knows every second by heart and it’s stuck in his head constantly, with the image of Dean swaying around glued to his closed eyelids.

He hasn’t told Charlie, though she notices his mind wanders off more than usual. He wants to tell her, but he can’t seem to find the right moment. They’re never alone, or when they are, Castiel suddenly can’t find the way to start. But he can’t keep this to himself forever.

“Charlie,” he says almost two weeks later as they sit together in the grass. She looks up from her book.

“Sup Casanova?”

He smiles nervously. “I—I gotta tell you something and you can’t laugh at me, okay?” Charlie nods. “I…” He looks around to make sure no one can hear him, then leans in. “I like Dean. As in… really like.”

Charlie looks puzzled.

“I know.” She says slowly. “That’s… You’re not that good at hiding, Cas, I can see that you like him.”

“Oh.” Castiel bites his lip. He feels his cheeks grow warm. All this time he felt like he was doing a good job at keeping it a secret, but apparently, Charlie saw everything. “But what I wanted to say…” He plucks grass from around him thoughtlessly. “Remember when he was with me that weekend? We—. He had this injury and I was taking care of him and he… I felt like he was flirting with me. And then the next evening, we were listening to Bowie and he was suddenly really close and I… I’m sure he was going to kiss me, Charlie, I know it, but then Alfie and Sam walked in.”

Charlie, who’d been listening with growing excitement, groaned softly.

“Damn it,” she mutters. “But didn’t you talk about it afterward? You have to have talked about it.”

Cas avoids her angry glare.

“We just kind of pretended it didn’t happen.”

“Ugh, boys!” Charlie exclaims and rubs her hands over her face. “When Dorothy and I…”

“Hey you two, what’s up?” Dean’s voice sounds from behind Cas. He turns around to see Dean, sporting sunglasses and messy hair, flop down next to them. He’s wearing shorts, a long-sleeved flannel, and a large amount of piercings, rings, and necklaces.

“Hello, Dean.” Castiel says slightly embarrassed when their bare legs touch. “Just… school.”

“Well, that’s boring.” Dean groans and lays down on the grass, kicking off his shoes. “You got somethin’ to do after school?”

“Not really.” Castiel tries to ignore Charlie smirking and mouthing ‘it’s a date’ at him. Dean’s face is turned to the sun and he doesn’t notice.

“Good, ‘cos I fixed Baby after she broke down yesterday and I thought we could take a test drive.”

“Sure.” Cas says and kicks at Charlie. “I’m in.”

“Of course you are.” Charlie giggles, which results in another kick from Cas.

After school, Dean is waiting at the Impala. When he sees Castiel he grins and waves and Cas feels like he’s in a movie. He has to pull himself out of that image and tries to act like any friend would do.

Soon they’re on the road, one Castiel doesn’t know but Dean seems to be familiar with it. He’s driving fast, but not too fast, with his fingerless gloves gliding over the steering wheel.

Led Zeppelin is on but the volume is turned down. Dean looks comfortable, with his head resting against the chair and his hands tapping along on the rhythm. His window is down and wind ruffles his messy hair. Cas can’t see his expression behind the sunglasses, but his lips are curved into a smile.

“She sounds perfect,” Castiel says. “You fixed her up pretty good.”

“I know, right? Thanks, man.” Dean pats the wheel affectionately. They drive for a few more minutes until they get onto an old-looking dirt road. Dean seems to notice Castiel’s curiosity. As he closes the window, he seems to get more serious.

“I didn’t just want to take a test drive,” Dean admits. He starts slowing down. “I actually want to show you something. Or tell.” Dean stops the car at the side of the road, though Cas doesn’t think anyone will pass them. He watches as Dean slides off his sunglasses and fiddles with them, suddenly nervous. “I…” he begins again. “I want to tell you how I got hurt two weekends ago.”

Castiel watches him with concern and sits up. Dean puts his sunglasses away, now playing with his fingerless gloves.

“Okay,” Castiel says gently. “You can tell me.”

“I lied,” Dean blurts, as if it’s easier to say if he keeps on talking. “I lied, it was my father… It’s always my father.”

Castiel feels the heavy lump in his throat, unable to swallow it away. He’s been afraid of this; of course he’d been thinking that something was wrong at the Winchester’s home, but for his worst fears to be real… Dean continues, his eyes fixed on the steering wheel.

“He only hits me when he’s drunk. When he’s not drunk, he’s just… strict. He’s often gone, which is fine, but when he’s home…” Dean swallows. “I just don’t want him to touch Sammy.” He finally looks at Castiel and tears glisten in his eyes. Dean clears his throat and his hands shake. “He can’t hurt Sam, ever.”

Cas reaches out and takes Dean’s hand, keeping it from shaking.

“Dean…”

Dean looks away, toward the corn field outside. “He changed when my mom died. He was a good man, I remember loving him… I remember him loving us. But now—now he only drinks.”

Castiel has no words for this situation. There’s nothing to say.

“I can manage, though, I always have. But I wanted you to know because—because it’s something you need to know.” Dean gives him a hesitant look. Castiel just looks at him. Dean’s eyes are filled with tears that aren’t falling yet and the frown on his face is that of an adult, worrying over things he shouldn’t have to worry about, not at his age.

“That day I pushed you against the lockers, it… It had been eleven years since my mother died.” It’s the first time either of them has mentioned it again and Dean shivers. But he continues to talk about what happened with his father that morning. A tear slips down Dean’s cheeks halfway through, and when Cas reaches to wipe it away, Dean looks at him again.

“I felt like my father that day. As if I was turning into a second version of him, but worse. I yelled at Sam, I smelled like liquor, and then I hit you, someone who’d done nothing wrong, pushed against the lockers, and I…” He bites his lip. “I didn’t feel like I deserved this anti possession tattoo. Still don’t, really.” He laughs humorlessly. “There could be a demon in me, who knows.”

Castiel is quiet as Dean talks, but he breaks his own silence to interrupt Dean.

“No.” He says firmly. “You’re not a bad person, Dean. The fact that you worry about that says enough. It’s your father who doesn’t deserve that tattoo.” Cas rests his hand on Dean’s shoulder and rubs it slowly. “Don’t think about yourself like that. I’ve seen your worst, and I’m convinced that you’re not a bad person.”

Dean is quietly staring at the steering wheel, his eyes still blurred.

“Here.” Castiel continues. When he takes Dean’s hand, Dean looks startled but lets Castiel tug at his fingerless gloves. “Get them off, Dean, come on.” He slides the leather off Dean’s fingers.

“What are you—?”

“Look.” Cas takes his hands and turns them around to show Dean’s clean knuckles, rough only from hard work, freckled from being out in the sun. “These aren’t the hands of a bad person. I bet your father’s knuckles are bruised and roughened from punching and being careless. You don’t use your hands for that.”

“Cas—”

“You’re not a bad person, Dean. Don’t forget.”

Dean nods quietly. Cas lets his fingers go and Dean curls them into fists.

“Does it happen often?” Castiel asks in a quiet voice. Dean shrugs.

“Depends.” He swallows. “It’s more knowing that he’s capable of doing such a thing that freaks me out. I can’t have Sam be alone with him, even though he’s always nice to Sam. And sometimes all he does is yell. But when he gets drunk he just… One time, I was—” Dean’s fists tighten. “I was so scared, man. He was raging and throwing things around the room, and I don’t know how it happened but suddenly he got a knife, and—and I was afraid he was gonna kill me, right in front of Sammy.” Dean’s voice is shaking again.

“Jesus, Dean,” Cas whispers. “What happened?”

“I told Sam to go play outside. He didn’t want to, but I asked him so he went. My dad was so far gone, he had no idea what he was doing, he wasn’t himself, Cas. I was trying to calm him down, and the next thing I know is I’m on the floor with this cut on my stomach. I just… I got up and put a bandage on it, got Sammy to school, and went to school myself. I was stitching it up, angry at my dad, angry at how unfair life was, and then you came in and even though we had never been nice to each other, I was glad there was someone distracting me.”

Castiel remembers how angry he’d been at Dean that day in the bathroom, snapping at him when Dean had been trying to help. He’d had no idea what Dean had been through back then.

“I’m so sorry.” Cas’ whisper is barely audible. “Dean, you are strong, you hear me? You’re strong and brave, and you did nothing to deserve this.”

He wraps his arm around Dean’s shoulder and pulls him close. The hug is as comfortable as it gets in the front seats of a car, but Cas holds Dean tight, and Dean seems to want to hide in his arms. Castiel lets him. When they pull away, Dean angrily dries his eyes.

“Will you promise me something?” He gives Cas a thoughtful glance as he sits back in his seat. “Don’t tell anyone about this, about my father.”

Castiel frowns. He doesn’t know if he can promise Dean this, practically allowing John to continue with his abuse and knowing that Dean can get hurt every moment he isn’t with Castiel.

“But Dean, you have to do something, you can’t just—”

“Listen.” Dean raises his voice a little. “I’ve been handling this ever since I can remember and I’ve never failed. I’ve taught myself to stitch my wounds and make sure they don’t get infected, I’ve made sure Sammy never got hurt once, I’ve learned about which injuries are dangerous and which need more tending, I’ll be fine. But if you tell anyone about this, if you… if you report my father, I lose everything. If they believe it, and I’m not sure if they will, hell, I’ll lose Sam. They’ll take him away to some foster home and I can’t—I…” Dean’s voice starts shaking again.

“I promise,” Castiel says, though it hurts. “I won’t tell anyone.” He chews on his bottom lip and stares outside, following a raven with his eyes. It reminds him of Dean’s tattoo and its meaning. Despite the raven being black, there was still some color left in him if the sunlight hit it in a good angle. He wonders if there’s any color left in John Winchester.

“Thanks.” Dean lays his hand on Cas’ back and pats it softly. “For everything.”

“Just know I’ll ask you to stay over even more.”

Dean scoffs. “Even more?”

Castiel smiles when Dean grabs the gloves, then puts them away and grabs his sunglasses again.

“I guess that means your place is our next stop?” Dean asks as he turns the engine back on. His hand rests on the back of Castiel’s chair as he drives back to turn the car. Castiel watches, gold rimming Dean’s dark blonde hair.

“Definitely.”

Chapter Text

Being in love with Dean Winchester is something exciting, Castiel soon realizes. There’s always something to think about and classes are never boring if you can look at the freckles on Dean’s face. He loves the way his heart leaps when Dean laughs or stands close to him, and Dean’s eyes sparkle with gold in the sun. Somehow he feels that there is something, more than just their friendship, a bond that can’t seem to break. Of course by now he knows how much Dean means to him, but Dean sometimes looks at him in a way that makes Cas think Dean feels the same.

Cas doesn’t dare to test it out, afraid to kill the warmth pooling in his stomach or the good tension that lays in between them when they’re alone. Almost a week has passed since Dean told him about John. There’s a weight on Castiel’s shoulders that he doesn’t mind carrying, a secret that is safe with him.

The day starts off well, because Dean is wearing shorts. Not the normal shorts most guys wear, but cut-off jeans, ripped at the bottom. They’re long enough to look good, short enough to be different. Cas loves them in silence. He stares at the muscles in Dean’s legs and the way the jeans curve around his hips, but makes sure not to look obvious. Charlie notices, but she’s like a hawk when Dean and Cas are around.

She reported several times how she’s sure Dean was staring at Castiel’s ass or how he looks at Cas when he doesn’t notice. Castiel isn’t sure if he should believe her.

He’s sitting with her in class while she is on one of her whispered ‘You gotta ask him out’ rants and tries not to stare when Dean walks in. His bowlegs stand out in the frayed shorts and Cas shifts uncomfortably. Just as he wants to look away, Dean sits down next to Lisa.

It only bothers Cas a bit. Dean sits with many different people in class and he sits with Lisa most often. But when Lisa puts her hand on his shoulder and leans in, whispering in his ear, Cas’ good mood slips away instantly.

Charlie follows his glare.

“Oh,” she mutters. “It’s nothing Cas.” She raises her eyebrows when Dean leans back and whispers in Lisa’s ear, making her giggle. “…Probably.” She quickly turns Castiel back in his seat. “Ignore it, better help me with this math problem.”

Castiel keeps turning around during class until it’s annoying Charlie. Dean and Lisa are sitting close to each other. Too close. Lisa is writing in Dean’s notebook with her hand resting on Dean’s shoulder and class seems to last forever. Lunch turns out to be even worse when Dean doesn’t even show up. Cas later sees him and Lisa get back inside, seemingly in a very serious discussion.

He barely sees Dean without Lisa that day until they’re at English, where Dean and Cas always sit together. Dean is talking about something Sam did, but Cas can barely focus. Though Dean’s bare leg pressing against his makes it difficult, he is angry. It feels wrong to show it, now he finally got what he wanted: Dean’s attention. So he swallows it away and forces a smile.

It crumbles down when at the end of class, Dean’s phone buzzes and Cas sees the message.

LISA: Still think about it the same way? I certainly do. x

Cas can’t seem to leave class fast enough, suddenly wanting to be anywhere but close to Dean.

Though he doesn’t see Dean and Lisa together as often as the week passes, Castiel is still tense. The daydreaming about Dean now gets interrupted by devilish voices in the back of his mind reminding him of Lisa and how pretty she is and how much Dean obviously wants her back.

The only thing that keeps him distracted is the baseball game that Friday afternoon. Dean promised Cas he’d come watch, so Cas automatically looks for him as he gets on the field. He sees Dean sitting on their side in the first row of seats. Next to him is Lisa.

Dean waves at him, but Castiel ignores it and looks away. He can’t stand to see them sitting together. Feeling so envious isn’t something he’s used to, and he feels gross. But concentrating isn’t easy anymore. He talks to his team, gives a few standard tips, and they get to their places.

As Castiel’s fingers grip on the bat, his knuckles turn white. He flexes his fingers and rolls his shoulders, trying to look extra strong. There’s only one person he’s trying to impress, and that person is sitting next to his ex-girlfriend.

Cas can’t help but look at them. Dean is looking back at him and Cas holds his gaze for a moment. Then, he shuffles his feet on their place, fixes the position of his helmet, and focuses on the ball.

They win with a flair of drama, Cas sliding down to make their last, winning point. He gets lifted onto Kevin’s shoulders but he doesn’t cheer as loud as the others. He’s searching for Dean in the crowd, but not to go to him. He wants to avoid him as much as he can. He knows that he can’t do that forever but he needs these feelings to calm down, or for Lisa to leave. Castiel hugs his teammates, promises Kevin he’ll come over to celebrate later and slips away into the changing room as soon as he can.

He is the first to go in, and is still there when the last guy leaves. Everyone’s cheerful and loud, except for Cas, who can’t escape his own annoying thoughts.

Dean doesn’t like you. Dean doesn’t want you. Dean wants Lisa. Dean isn’t into you. He never was, you’ve been making things up.

Rain starts falling outside. Cas can hear it hammer down on the asphalt and he shivers at the thought of walking home in that. He pulls his sweatshirt’s hood over his head, slips his hands into the sleeves and curls himself up on the bench, knees to his chest. He sits and wonders how long he’ll stay here until he feels like leaving. It’s quiet outside, but he doesn’t want to go yet.

It hurts. He groans and rests his forehead against his knees. He never meant to fall in love with Dean. He just wanted to be his friend and their friendship was better than Castiel could’ve hoped for. Cas should’ve seen it coming, but even then he probably couldn’t help it. Any moment would have been too late. Right now, despite winning the game, he feels like crying.

He hears footsteps on the gravel outside and gets up quickly. He grabs a shoe to pretend like he is busy changing just when Dean walks in. Cas’ shoulders tense.

“Hey,” Dean says and his voice echoes softly in the empty room. Cas feels his eyes burning on his neck. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh.” Castiel doesn’t say anything else, he can’t find the words.

“You played well.”

Cas turns around, putting his baseball clothes into his bag and doesn’t reply. He doesn’t know if he can even speak properly now if he tried to.

“Cas, why—?” Dean exhales audibly and Castiel’s shoulders stiffen even more. “Why are you ignoring me?”

“I’m not.” Cas rasps and clears his throat. “I was waiting for the rain to stop.”

“You’ve been ignoring me all week. It’s not just today. You tried to hide it but I can feel it, man. What’s going on?”

“Why do you care?” Cas snaps. He can’t stop himself. With an angry swing he snatches his bag from the bench and turns around, facing Dean. He looks up at him slightly and even now, Cas gets distracted by the eyes, green like emeralds, without makeup but a piercing in his left eyebrow.

“Why I—? Cas, what the hell? Of course I care about you!”

“Oh, well—” Cas chokes on his words as tears start to blur his vision and his voice hitches. “You—you seem to care a lot more about Lisa.”

He regrets it immediately. With a last hopeless look at Dean’s shocked face, Cas turns around and runs out into the rain, knowing he has to leave or he’ll mess up more.

“Cas, wait—!” He hears Dean’s following him but he doesn’t want to look around. Charlie already left so he’ll have to walk home but it isn’t far. He runs across the field toward the parking lot. It’s empty except for Dean’s car, but Cas is only focused on getting away.

Just as he passes the Impala, he feels a hand on his arm.

“Hey, I said wait.” Dean pants. Cas turns around, his eyes burning with anger.

“Leave me alone.” Cas’ voice breaks. He suddenly feels tears instead of just rain, not sure when he started crying.

“Talk to me. What the hell is going on, Cas?” Dean’s voice is hard and Cas feel a pang of guilt realizing he made Dean angry.

“What is going on?” Castiel can’t believe how much it hurts to confess, to finally confess after promising himself he’d let this pass. But it pours out of him like the rain now hammering down on them, soaking their clothes and hair. Castiel doesn’t feel it.

"I can't do this anymore Dean, I tried to but I just can’t. I know you meant nothing by it and—and it's my fault for thinking I had any chance but I just—I thought—" "Cas, come on. What are you talking about?" The initial anger has gone from Dean's voice, right now he sounds more worried than anything. His hand is still on Castiel's shoulder, his soft but insistent grip preventing Cas from fleeing. Cas lets out a sad chuckle before daring to look Dean in the eye. "Seeing you with Lisa… It hurts because I played myself by imagining you were mine ever since you—you almost kissed me, even though you'll never be mine and every time you put your arm around her I feel like I'm suffocating because I stupidly fell in love with you and I…” Castiel steps away, withdrawing himself from Dean. He steps away, the rain rolling in beads along Dean’s face. Castiel turns away from it, afraid. “It was an accident.”

“Cas—”

He turns around, he’s ready to leave. At home, he’ll be able to lock himself away from everything and hide from how much this hurts. Nothing has ever hurt like this before.

When he starts to walk away, just before he starts to run, Dean’s fingers lock around his arm.

“What—?” Cas begins as Dean turns him back around. The next thing Castiel knows, Dean has crashed their lips together.

Cas is unprepared for it; he doesn’t know what to do so he does nothing. Dean is leaning in, almost desperately, pulling Cas close against him. Dean’s lips are plump and cold from the rain, and taste sweet from whatever he ate before. The kiss is a bit too hard and messy to be passionate but when Dean lets go, it’s still too short. Realization begins to dawn on Dean’s face as he backs away slightly.

“Oh god, Cas, I’m so sorry, I shouldn’t have…” he stammers, seeming to mistake Castiel’s surprise as some sort of stilled anger. “I thought you meant, and I… fuck, I know I—”

Cas steps back into Dean’s personal space, glides his thumb over Dean’s chin. How does he only now see the slight peach fuzz? Had Dean purposely kept it? This time, he is more careful of where he places his lips.

Dean seems to melt into it, and with that Castiel’s shoulders lose their tension.

They stumble back until Cas is pressed up against the Impala, and he lets his hands explore. He runs his fingers through Dean’s wet hair, down to his neck. The skin under his leather jacket is warm. Cas’ hands stay there as Dean’s roam over his arms, his chest, his neck. Castiel loves those hands.

They gasp against each other’s lips with Dean’s nose pressed against the side of Castiel’s, his breath warm and heavy. It’s more than just a kiss, it’s filling up the empty places words don’t fit into.

Dean’s smile is nervous, his chuckle nothing but a quick breath, a question. Castiel’s grin is his answer.

Dean fingers brush over Castiel’s lips as if to secure their kiss on them.

“Should’ve done that ages ago.” Dean mutters.

Cas tries to remember why they didn’t, what held them back, but now he has Dean pressed up against him, he can’t seem to find a reason.

“We should have,” he agrees, and he’s already leaning back in. “You’re keeping a stubble.”

“You said I should,” Dean says. “It’s not going too well, though.”

Cas grins. He captures Dean’s lower lip, unable to stop smiling.

Dean takes his hand before kissing back.

Rain doesn’t feel like an issue anymore, the door handle pressing into Castiel’s back doesn’t hurt, and time passes without them realizing how long they stand there. They look at each other in silence, steal kisses, and test their tongues against each other’s lips.

Castiel’s phone rings. The magic wall around them falls and Dean, whose hand is still in Cas’, slips away.

“Maybe you should take that,” he says, rain still pouring down on them. Cas gets away from the car as Dean unlocks it and fishes his phone from his pocket.

“Charlie, what’s up?” he asks. Dean is holding the car door open for him and Cas gets inside. It’s only now that he realizes how through and thoroughly soaked they are.

“Cas, where the hell are you? Party at Kevin’s, remember?”

“Shit.”

Dean gets behind the wheel, their eyes locking together.

“Yeah, you ass, we can’t celebrate without our captain. Is Dean with you? He’s not here either.”

“He is.” Castiel smiles. “We’re on our way.”

“All right, make it quick. See ya, bitches.”

It’s difficult to not be alone with Dean. The people around don’t know how desperate they are to get away and be alone, let it be for only a few minutes. There wasn’t time enough to say everything they wanted to in the car.

Dean did tell Cas why he’d been around Lisa so much.

“It all had to do with you,” he’d admitted, and despite the kiss they just shared, he looks shy about it. “I was nervous about telling anyone that I liked you… I knew for a long time, and I thought about telling Benny at first. But I realized I wanted to know if you liked me too, and since girls are a little better at that…” He’d given Cas a quick smile. “She’s the only girl I really trust, besides Charlie of course. But I felt like she wouldn’t tell me if she knew, just to protect you.”

“What did Lisa say?” Cas had asked, curious. It felt weird realizing people had talked about him, especially Dean and Lisa.

“That you were jealous,” Dean said as they’d driven onto the driveway of Kevin’s home. “But I couldn’t believe her, not really. So she told me that if she would see you and me sitting in class together, she’d know for sure. I don’t know how, but she did. She texted me she was still convinced that you… you liked me.”

Still think about it the same way? I do. Cas kept smiling when he realized all his fears had been unnecessary.

But now they’re inside, surrounded by unknowing people and they can’t do anything about it. They steal glances and smiles, but hide it when others join in on the conversation.

When Castiel is getting a drink, Dean’s suddenly behind him. His hand presses on the small of Castiel’s back, his body is shielding them from other’s eyes.

“Hey,” he says in his low voice, and his breath tickles Castiel’s neck. “I have a question.”

“And that is?” Cas asks. His breath hitches when Dean reaches for a drink and his chest presses against Cas’s back.

“Do you like the, uh, peach fuzz?”

Castiel turns his head to look at Dean. Dean’s looking back, his hair still a bit damp and wild from the rain. Cas looks at the soft hairs on Dean’s chin, the lips he now knows the taste of, the freckles scattered across his face.

“I like it a lot.”

“Good,” Dean gives him his glass and takes another one for himself. “One day, it’ll be a beard like Bobby’s.”

“Oh, please, no.” Cas laughs, wrinkling his nose. “I’ll shave it off in your sleep.”

Dean grins and opens his mouth to say something, but then sees Benny coming over to them. His hand quickly slips from Castiel’s back.

It doesn’t upset Cas; he doesn’t know whether he wants people to know yet, neither do they know what exactly they have going on, but he misses Dean’s hand as soon as he can’t feel it anymore. The party seems out of place, the game seems like it was ages ago. When an excited Garth comes to congratulate him on the win, he first manages to spill his drink over Castiel’s shirt. It isn’t of import, not now.

Castiel makes up an excuse to leave early and says goodbye to Charlie and Kevin. He gives Dean a meaningful look, who seems to understand just fine.

Cas waits for him at the hall, looking at the paintings that hang there. Large and impressive, with landscapes that remind Castiel of fantasy games.

Suddenly two bare arms carefully slide around his waist.

“Do you like them? The paintings,” Dean murmurs.

“I don’t know.” Castiel leans into the hug. It’s so different, this new reality they stepped into only a few hours ago. But it feels right, Dean’s arms are strong, the hug comfortable. “They’re a bit… too much. I prefer things like Van Gogh, Monet…”

“God, you’re a nerd," Dean says softly. "I like it, though.”

Cas smiles with Dean’s chin pressed against his shoulder.

“I was wondering if you would like to come over tonight,” Cas says and turns around.

Dean looks around quickly to make sure no one is in the hall. His hand finds a path over Castiel’s chest, along his shoulder and neck.

“I wish I could,” Dean says with honesty. “But I have to work, I’m sorry. I can come over on the weekend, if that’s okay. I’ll bring Sam, too.”

Castiel nods, wondering why Dean’s eyes seem even greener now. He smiles again, already looking forward to the weekend. Two days with Dean is so much more valuable than a baseball trophy.

“Deal.”

“I’ll drop you off.” Dean’s kiss is light, just enough to make Castiel’s skin chill and his lips warm with the taste of the soda Dean had been drinking. They don’t talk much on their way to Castiel’s, just look at each other every other moment and smile until their cheeks hurt.

Chapter Text

During the next week, Castiel wonders if he’ll ever get used to being with Dean. It’s as if a world has opened, filled with new experiences for him to discover. Cas has never felt like this before. It’s difficult to keep it hidden at school when they’re longing for another touch, another smile, another soft kiss. But everything is worth the wait, Castiel knows.

When they’re at Castiel’s, alone, they don’t have to worry anymore. They are still the same, in a way, but less reserved. Cas doesn’t have to feel wrong for falling asleep in Dean’s arms, and Dean teaches him how to dance to Bowie songs. Being with Dean isn’t something Cas takes for granted and he cherishes every moment of it. He enjoys being alone or with Sam and Alfie, and he enjoys being at school and stealing quick kisses in empty hallways or Dean carefully massaging his neck when they sit in the back of the classroom where no one can see.

Castiel tries to find a moment to tell Charlie. They’re keeping it a secret from everyone else but her and Lisa, for now. For Castiel it isn’t, in fact, fear of the reactions, it’s discomfort with any additional attention. He just wants to be with Dean, but as the captain of the baseball team, his relationship status is a topic people like to discuss. And Dean has never been one for drawing all the attention on him when it comes to larger groups of people.

They eventually tell Charlie when they’re the only three people in the library, their books spread out over the table. Dean looked tired; Cas had known yesterday had been a long shift at work and his father had been home. It still bothers him to know that Dean is around him at times and whenever there is even a single bruise on him, Castiel’s jaw will clench, his fingers curl into fists. He wishes he could do more than just tend to Dean’s wounds. Dean tries to comfort him every time and say that it’s nothing, but Cas can’t stop himself. He fears Dean’s father without ever having met him. But that day at the library was calm and John Winchester-free, and Dean was leaning against Castiel a little. It felt like the right time to tell Charlie, so they did. Charlie’s smile had spoken volumes.

Castiel is losing himself in Dean’s voice. It’s soft and deep and close to his ear whispering that Dean loved Cas’ outfit today. Dean trails kisses over his neck and presses him a little deeper into the pillows of Castiel’s bed.

“But then again, anything looks good on you.” Dean’s tongue darts out, teeth teasing the soft skin. Cas’ breath quickens.

“You,” he mutters. “... you look good on me.”

Dean looks up at him, his lip piercing shimmers as he smirks. “Do I?” he asks. His hand glides down, tugs at the hem of Castiel’s shirt. “Guess you don’t need this, then.”

He lifts it from Cas’ torso slowly, kissing anywhere skin gets exposed. Goosebumps appear where Dean’s hand or lips ghosts over. It takes more than a minute, but Dean finally slides Castiel’s shirt completely off and throws it on a floor in a messy heap. Neither of them notice, because Dean’s lips are rough on Castiel’s mouth and he kisses Cas breathless, pushing him down into the pillows again. There’s nothing else to think of when Cas’ arms wrap around Dean’s back, pulling him in. Dean bites his bottom lip, drawing a soft whine from Castiel’s throat.

As Dean blinks at him, catching his breath, Cas follows the curl of Dean’s lashes with his eyes, over to the bumpy jut of his nose, that one little freckle that’s darker than the others. His eyes trail down to Dean’s shirt, and he smiles.

“Man, I feel underdressed.”

“Is that the line you use to get girls out of their clothes, Shurley?” Dean jokes back, and his head tilts. Cas thinks of all those weeks ago when he’d wanted to kiss Dean so badly, but thought he never could. Now there’s a soft bruise on his neck and Dean’s hands on his bare chest.

“No. Just you,” Castiel manages, his throat suddenly tight with something, and he isn’t sure whether it’s emotion or lust or something else.

Dean doesn’t hesitate. He slides the flannel off his shoulders and throws it down with Castiel’s, followed by his undershirt.

“It works.”

He presses his lips to Castiel’s chest. Dean looks up to watch his reaction, hands gently gliding, feeling, discovering the way Castiel’s waist curves and hipbones create their strong angle.

Castiel moans quietly, arching into his hands. Dean kisses down his sternum, making Cas gasp for air. It’s chilly against his skin where Dean has just kissed him. Dean’s hands trail down, lingering at Cas’ hips, and then hesitantly glide over Castiel’s crotch.

They’ve never done this before and Dean is quiet, waiting. Castiel presses up into his palm slightly, enjoying the pressure of Dean’s hand. It’s the permission Dean was waiting for and he rubs against Cas a little more, drawing out another moan. Dean kisses his way up Cas’ torso and by the time he reaches Castiel’s slightly parted lips, his fingers are trying at Castiel’s fly.

Cas kisses him, flushed and excited and scared but not enough to stop him; His nerves make him hyper-aware of every little sound Dean makes, the sweet and musky taste of his tongue, and the way his shoulders feel under his hands. His nails scratch over the skin of Dean’s back, but then he worries that maybe it’s a bit too much.

“Sorry,” Cas breathes, embarrassed.

“… s’all right, baby,” Dean hums against his lips. His eyes observe Cas’ flushed face with concern. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah.” Cas nods. “Very okay.”

Dean hums again, pleased, and presses a small kiss to his lips. He grinds his palm again against Castiel’s crotch, who bucks his hips up, shuddering.

“Cas,” Dean moans, running his tongue along Castiel’s jaw. “Cas.”

Castiel is lost in Dean’s kisses, his hand, the weight of Dean’s knees pressing against his, the blur of tattoos and clean skin and freckles, all he wants to do is feel them and touch and kiss and—

Footsteps sound hard on the stairs. They startle and sit upright—having completely forgotten that people were downstairs—and Dean moves away by rolling onto his back.

“Boys!” Chuck knocks on the door. “Dinner in five!”

They hear him go down again, and look at each other in a mix of embarrassment and affection.

“I guess,” Dean mutters. “… we have a habit of getting interrupted.”

“Apparently.” Cas breathes deeply and runs a hand through his messy hair.

“I—I need a moment.” Dean gets up and stretches slowly. Cas looks at his back and sees the tiny marks from where his nails had been.

“Yeah.” He watches Dean get his shirt from the floor, and moves up himself, closing his fly and trying to calm his breath. “Me too.”

They get downstairs a few minutes later and despite no one looking at them in particular, Cas feels exposed.

But he can’t stop smiling at Dean across the table. Dean smiles back at him.

Dean is barely able to come over the following week, and most of their time together is spent with others around as well. When Dean isn’t working, Cas is training until late or they’re too busy with school to ignore the world and take some time off.

But at the end of the week, on Friday, when Cas is standing with Charlie at the lockers, Dean sneaks up from behind him.

“Hey,” he says and wraps an arm around Castiel’s shoulders. Instinctively he wants to turn around to check for people, but he holds himself from it and leans into Dean’s embrace. That currently feels more important than others maybe seeing them. “So, Cas, whatever you do, you gotta keep tonight free ‘cos I got a plan for you and I ain’t gonna let anything keep us from going.”

Cas feels his cheeks flush.

“A date?” he asks softly, tilting his head. “Really?”

“Don’t act so surprised,” Dean demands as if offended, but he presses a fleeting kiss on Cas’ temple. “Benny needs my help with science, so I’ll see you tonight?”

Castiel nods and watches him walk away, wondering what Dean is up to. Charlie squeals excitedly and hugs him close.

“Are you really not gonna tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

“But Dean—”

“That’s the idea of a surprise, Cas, you shouldn’t know what it is.”

Cas looks at Dean, his forehead screwed up in a frown, and Dean laughs when he sees it.

“You’re cute when you pout.”

Castiel bites away his smile and licks his lips. “I still want to know.”

“You will when we’re there, Cas.” Dean looks excited, his fingers tapping on the wheel. “I’m sure we’ll have a good time, angel, trust me a little here.”

“I do,” Cas says, smiling at the nickname. “I’m just… curious.”

“We’re almost there.”

Cas looks outside. They drove out of town a few minutes ago and all he sees are farms and fields and he stares at them, wondering what they’re doing here.

When Dean drives into a small dirt road, lined with oak trees and covering everything in large shadow, only broken by sunlight fighting its way through the leaves, Castiel spots a sign: Heaven’s Drive-In, Theater As You Remember It.

“Dean,” Cas says. He can’t actually believe that he saw it right. “This is a drive in cinema?”

“You betcha.” Dean smiles and looks at him. There’s something so captivating in that expression, Castiel can’t seem to speak for a moment. He doesn’t know why it hits him so suddenly, maybe it’s the light, or the atmosphere, but Dean looks more beautiful than ever.

“You’re the best.” Castiel says with more of a serious undertone in it than he anticipated. “I… wow.”

Dean shrugs, a bit shy, and nods at the parking lot ahead of them, several of the same oaks spread around it to shield the place from the surrounding area just a bit.

“I’ve never come to see a film myself, but I used to work here before I got a job at Bobby’s. I loved it here but… Bobby’s paid better and I could do something, help people, not just hand out popcorn and watch people make out and feel lonely.” Dean’s chuckle is soft, almost dry, but his hand reaching Castiel’s is warm. “But coming back with you seemed like the only good thing to spend my paycheck on.”

“Dean, you shouldn’t have—. I can—” But Dean holds up his hand and slows down the car as they drive up to the booth.

“It’s my money, Cas, I know how to spend it wisely. And tonight I’m spending it on a date with my boyfriend.”

They never said that before, never called each other ‘boyfriend,’ and for a moment neither of them says anything. Then Cas smiles and leans in; he presses a featherlight kiss on Dean’s now slightly stubbly jaw.

“And I’m glad I’m spending this night with mine.”

It isn’t crowded and Castiel isn’t surprised. He wonders how many people know of this place and realizes that when Dean had been working here, he must’ve been short on money. Dean is recalling memories; Cas sees them dance in his eyes as he looks around and greets the guy at the booth, a frowning older man named Frank, who grumps, “So could it have taken you longer to get back to us?”

Then he gives Dean a bit too much change back and when Dean wants to say something, Frank waves his hand wildly.

“Move on, move on, I don’t have all day! Make sure to get a place up front, where I can’t see you.”

Dean drives over to the front with a soft smile on his face. Cas smiles as well. He doesn’t know what movie is playing and he doesn’t even care. When Dean is parked. he reaches behind them and grabs a large plaid blanket and two pillows. Castiel’s smile seems to be permanent; Dean obviously thought this through.

“Come on, Baby’s roof is the best place to be, if you’re careful.”

They get out and Dean lifts himself onto the roof easily. Cas hesitates, not because he isn’t sure if he can do it but because he doesn’t want to damage the Impala.

Dean reaches over the edge and holds out his hand. “Here,” he says as their fingers interlock. “If you step on there you can lift yourself up.” Cas does as he says and Dean pulls him up, catching him into his arms. “Good.”

Dean gives Castiel one of the pillows and wraps the blanket around them. It feels like school and everything else is miles away, in another time, another world. Here, it’s just them. It’s chilly outside but Dean and the blanket are warm and Castiel finds a place on Dean’s shoulder where he can rest his head. “What movie’s playing?” he asks, though he’d be okay with any.

“Star Wars,” Dean says, his smile audible. “Episode three. I picked out this Friday because they only had crap movies on all the others.”

Fifteen minutes into the movie they’re just sitting and watching, enjoying each other’s company and the very few others sitting in or on their cars, not watching them. Dean’s hand eventually starts drawing careful circles over Castiel’s back. Dean looks at him and smiles.

“It’s only been a week and I already missed having time together.”

“Me too,” Cas admits, gladly leaning into the touch. “I… wondered what’d happen if we just… didn’t hide it. At school, home.”

“I don’t know,” Dean says after a pause. “You have a good reputation, don’t want that to get ruined.”

Cas moves his head to face Dean, startled. “What? Why would being with you ruin my reputation? And even if it did, you’re more important than that.”

Dean inhales slowly as if thinking about the words carefully.

“I… It’s just—. This all feels so surreal, you know? Us being together, it just feels as if I’m too lucky—. Like, you’re too good for me.”

“I’m not.” Cas’ hand glides over Dean’s face. There’s an obvious stubble now, dark and rough and it makes Dean look older; Cas had been right, it looks very good on him. “I feel the same, Dean, as if you’re too good for me. And because we both feel like that, I think we fit together perfectly.”

Dean leans in, kissing away the silence he can’t seem to fill with words. Cas leans in eagerly, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck, holding close.

“We do.” Dean hums, wrapping the blanket around their shoulders a bit tighter. “And if you… y’know, want to show people in school, stop hiding, we can.”

“Yes, we could, though you know there will always be some people judging us.” Cas kisses the corner of his lips, it wouldn’t be a problem to him, but Dean has enough problems already and he doesn’t want to add to those. But Dean just nods.

“I don’t care about them. Not more than I care about you. And guess what?” Dean’s fingers trail over Castiel’s chin, lifting his face up. His eyes shimmer with utter certainty. “We’ll make them all jealous.”

Chapter Text

Wednesday is a good day for a Biology class outside. Castiel doesn’t really see the importance of this specific lesson, but he isn’t complaining. Laying outside in the grass, drawing trees and the way their leaves are formed isn’t the worst way to spend two hours of school. Especially not if it’s with Dean.

They’re close together; they’ve been more openly affectionate ever since their conversation on their date, they’re not keeping it a secret anymore. Not that people pay a lot of attention to them: some are focused on their drawings, some girls gossip about who is going to prom with whom and what kind of dress they’ll buy. Prom is in less than two weeks and Castiel already heard people talk about who his date is going to be. He doesn’t tell them that he already knows. Cas loves the way Dean’s feet brush over his as they lay in the grass. After sketching the leaves, which remind him of the tattoo on Dean’s side, he leans over to look at Dean’s sketches.

“Dean, drawing me isn’t the exercise. Though I feel flattered.” He smiles and Dean looks up, one eye closed against the sun.

“But I think you’re prettier than the trees.”

“You’d better,” Cas hums, though the smile on his face betrays him. “Or else I’d have to get jealous.”

“Don’t worry, angel, no need to get jealous of anything.” Dean purses his lips and grins at Castiel. He looks up as he repositions, probably to start on sketching the tree, but he stops halfway through. His grin fades instantly. Cas notices almost immediately and frowns.

“Dean?” he asks, but Dean doesn’t seem to hear him. Castiel follows his glance, over to the lake just off school property.

There’s a man standing on the wooden pier, fishing. From this distance, all Cas can make out of his features is that he’s big, tough, and that a couple of cans or bottles lay scattered at his feet. Cas wouldn’t have spared him a second glance if Dean didn’t seem to be so… frightened.

And suddenly, he knows exactly who this man is.

“That’s your father.”

Cas’ words pull Dean back from his stare and he swallows, lowering himself again. He starts chewing his lip.

“I don’t want him to notice me.”

Castiel hesitates for a moment. Maybe he shouldn’t do anything. But all of Dean’s peace, all of his happiness and brightness seems to have disappeared as soon as he saw John. Cas throws his pencil in the grass and starts getting on his feet.

“What are you—?”

Cas doesn’t listen, and starts walking in between other students’ legs. Most of them ignore him, until Dean gets up as well.

“Cas, no.” Dean grabs his forearm, his eyes as pleading as his voice. “Please, he isn’t—”

“He hurt you, Dean. He’s hurt you over and over again, while he should be the one keeping you from getting hurt. I’ve seen the things he caused, it is nothing but wrong, and I can’t just watch him stand there.” Cas is trying to keep his voice down but several people look up anyway.

“Don’t go to him, Cas, I’m begging you, please, I don’t want you to get hurt—”

“I don’t want you to get hurt either, but look at what he did! Dean, I—I’m sorry. I have to.”

He twists out of Dean’s grasp and maneuvers around their classmates. As soon as he’s past everyone, he starts walking faster.

“Cas, he’s dangerous, wait!”

Dean’s voice breaks, and Cas feels it deep inside his chest. But his mind blurs everything around him, focusing straight on John Winchester.

Dean crying in the bathroom and rinsing off blood. Dean calling Castiel late at night, almost in tears because he had nowhere to keep his brother safe—his brother who means everything to him, his brother who was more important than Dean’s injuries. The cuts and marks and bruises Castiel saw come and go as time passed, unable to do anything about it. The fear in Dean’s eyes when he had to take Sam home. His self-doubt, thinking he’d turn into this man, thinking he was the demon, while all that time it was this man…

Cas starts running.

Sometimes good people do bad things.

“Hey!” he yells when he’s close to the pier. John turns, confused by the stranger running up to him.

“Can’t I fish here?” he asks, and that dark voice so sly snaps something in Castiel’s brain.

“You.” He snatches the fishing rod out of John’s hand and throws it into the lake “Can’t do anything.” He yanks on John’s shirt, but he’s heavy and is already defending himself by pushing back. Cas stumbles and is surprised for a moment, but he’s so angry he doesn’t stop. He lashes out without thinking, his fist meets John’s jaw with a crack. He can feel blood rushing and his fingers tingle, but he has no time to think about it. John is stronger than that.

Maybe he saw Dean, maybe he is too drunk to care why he’s fighting, but he slams his knee up into Cas’ stomach, grabs him by his collar and throws him down onto the pier.

“Think you can handle me, little boy?” John slurs as Cas gets up. He tastes blood and the world sways around him, but he stumbles forward, ready to kick and hit and scratch this poor example of a man. Cas lunges for him, but John is faster, way more experienced in fights. He grabs at Castiel with one hand and punches him in the stomach with the other. His knee follows, two times, three, and Cas gasps for air. But John doesn’t stop. It’s almost automatic, the way he yanks Cas back onto his feet only to kick him back down.

Castiel’s head hits the wood again. Lights explode behind his eyes, his limbs and body hurt but he’s getting back up again, thinking about Dean. Dean.

John isn’t fighting for anything. It isn’t clear if he’s even thinking. It only happens in a matter of seconds as Cas is trying to get up. John lifts him, but not to his feet; he lifts Cas from the ground and, without any effort, throws him into the water.

If Cas hadn’t been injured, he might have been able to swim back up. But Cas’ head is light and everything turns, the water swirling around him is cold as ice. He can’t think clearly about getting up or needing air. There’s only water. An empty, neverending darkness surrounding him until that is all he feels.

Dean isn’t fast enough. He tries to run after Castiel right away, but people hold him back to ask what’s going on. He shrugs them off without answering, pushes himself through people and runs, yelling.

“Cas, get away from him!” He stumbles, almost falls but storms on as he sees how his father lifts Castiel up. “Dad, let him—” A loud splash silences him as Cas hits the water. Dean’s panic rises. He wants to jump after Cas, but John notices him.

“Boy, what are you doing here, why—?”

Dean is disgusted by his slurring. He’s never hit his father, never even stood up against him, but this is different.

“Keep your hands off him, you asshole.” Dean catches hold of John’s collar and pushes him aside. John loses his balance and falls without having a chance to lash out at Dean. For the first time in his life, he’s glad his father is drunk. He runs past his father over the dock, already stripping off his jacket. Cas is still underwater. He hears someone else yell his name, but he doesn’t listen and dives. As soon as he hits the water, the sound of voices disappear. The cold encloses Dean. It’s as if he’s pushed into a tight room with walls crushing on him from all sides, a box that’s freezing him. He can barely move, but he forces himself up for air. Gasping, he comes back to reality but only for a moment until he dives under again, thinking about Cas. Cas.

It’s dark. The sunlight is blocked by lily pads. Other plants brush past his legs as he kicks and tries to see anything, but the water is dirty and turbid and it stings his eyes. As he gets up, gasping for air, he hears someone calling his name again.

“Dean, get outta there!”

He doesn’t listen to Charlie, he can’t afford to spend any more time above the water when Cas is still down there somewhere. He dives under again. All he can see is shadows and plants and mud, his eyes are burning. He kicks through the plants and just when he’s about to go back up, he sees a large shadow on his right. He doesn’t think about getting air himself. As soon as his fingers grip on Castiel’s arm, he tightens them and swims up, holding Cas up before he himself gets out of the water. Castiel isn’t awake.

“Come on, angel, come on…” Dean gasps. “It’s gonna be o—okay, you’re gonna be—be fine…” Castiel’s face is cold and pale with spots of red around his nose. Dean holds him in one arm, Castiel’s head on his shoulder and he tries to swim toward the dock. “Help!” He chokes, his fear is changing his voice. “Somebody help, come on!” He doesn’t know how or when he reached the dock.

“You can’t leave me like this, Cas, come on, stay—stay up for me, please, will ya?” He’s blabbering, maybe just to calm himself down, but his voice is trembling. Once he reaches the dock, Crowley and Charlie are kneeling at the end. Dean’s shaking arms lift Cas so they can pull him on the dock. Crowley takes Dean’s arm and pulls him up as well, helping him get on solid ground, panting and coughing.

“Call an ambulance!” Charlie yells to the group of people standing nearby. Dean doesn’t care about them.

“Cas—” He drags himself towards Castiel’s body. Cas’ lips are slightly parted and his eyes are closed. “He’s not breathing.” Dean suddenly, fully realizes. “Oh God he isn’t—. Fuck, no he is—he’s not breathing, he isn’t—”

“Dean, move.” Crowley pushes him aside, roughly but still careful. Crowley tilts Castiel’s head back slightly and he checks for a breath. After a few seconds without seeing anything, he places his hands on Castiel’s chest and starts pushing, quick and hard. Crowley counts to himself with full concentration and Dean can only stare. He shifts closer, his numb fingers holding onto Castiel’s hand for no reason at all but the fact that Dean doesn’t want to let him go.

Crowley tilts Cas’ head back more, pinches his nose and hovers his mouth over Castiel’s. Once, twice, then he starts pushing again. Dean has no idea what else is going on behind them. Crowley tilts Cas’ head back another time and brings their mouths together. Castiel suddenly gets up gasping, coughing up water, and heaving for all the air his body needs.

Though Dean reaches for him and catches him, Castiel doesn’t seem to realize where he is. He stares at them blankly, his blue eyes empty and his skin still cold and pale. Dean keeps his head stable, like Crowley ordered. Then Crowley takes off his jacket and covers Cas with it.

“The ambulance should be faster, we can’t do anything more for him,” Crowley complains. He helps Dean stabilize Castiel, who looks dazed.

“Charlie, give—give my jacket.”

She does, but instead of putting it on himself, Dean covers Cas. Although his own body is trembling uncontrollably right now, he doesn’t care.

The ambulance arrives less than a minute later, but it still took too long for Dean.

The fact that they take Cas away from him is the last straw. His exhausted, cold body, still shaking from exhaustion and fear, collapses. Two arms catch him, and Dean starts crying into Charlie’s shoulder.

“Charlie, I can’t…” Dean chokes, gripping onto her as she finally lifts him.

“Come on, honey.” She swallows. “You’re shaking, we needda get you warm.” Her voice is as unstable as Dean feels, on the point of crumbling and falling apart. He realizes how scared she is and looks at her. Tears glisten in her eyes and she smiles at him, but he pulls her into a hug. He’s cold and dripping wet, he can’t feel his fingers as he buries them into her hair, but Charlie hugs back tightly.

“It’s gonna be okay,” he whispers, to her and to himself, and presses his lips into her hair. She sniffles a laugh as she pulls away and wraps an arm around him.

“Come on,” she repeats and holds him as they walk. People stare at them and quickly step aside, muttering and too shocked to talk to them. Dean is glad they don’t.

“Dean.” Crowley is at his side suddenly. He has two blankets and throws them around Dean’s trembling shoulders.

“Cas—?” Dean begins, but Crowley holds up a hand.

“They said he’ll be okay, with enough rest and warmth. You got him out in time, Dean, but now I got to take you to the hospital or you’ll get pneumonia.”

“You—you saved him.”

Crowley rubs at Dean’s back and covers him with the second blanket.

“Shut up, Winchester, you can thank me by letting me take you to the hospital, ‘right? Bradbury, the principal asked for someone who saw what happened, can you—?”

“Yeah.” Charlie nods. She and Crowley never really talked, but Dean gives her an encouraging smile. “Take care. I’ll call you later. I wanna see Cas, too.”

Dean goes willingly with Crowley, too tired to stop the guy’s fussing over him, too desperate to go to the hospital to worry about getting Crowley’s shotgun seat wet. As he’s sitting in the car, silence overwhelming them, Crowley keeps throwing glances a him while he speeds down the road.

“What happened to my dad?” Dean suddenly asks.

“What?” Crowley frowns at him.

“The—the man,” Dean stutters, turning red. “That—that was my dad.”

Crowley whistles through his teeth and stares at the road in front of him.

“Damn,” he mutters. “Well, some teachers got him and took him inside, he was too wasted to fight properly… They were calling the police when I passed them, so I think he’s taken care of.”

Dean had never wanted to report his father, the idea of police getting involved never sounded good to him. But with Cas, everything was different.

“Good.” Dean swallows. “Asshole.”

Crowley is quiet, but keeps checking on Dean. When Dean accidentally catches his glance, he suddenly understands. He understands why Crowley saved Cas. It wasn’t, in fact, for Cas…

“Crow.”

Crowley laughs softly. Dean hadn’t used that nickname in ages. As kids, they were Dean-o and The Crow, superheroes fighting crime. It was years ago, when John was still a good father and Mary was alive. After her death, Dean barely ever came out to play, and when he did, his mood was bad and they often just sat and talked.

It’s weird to be reminded of those happier moments, when everything was still good. Crowley was his friend, not the guy who did his tattoos and piercings. He got it now: the free tattoos, the looks, the compliments he always took as friendly guy-to-guy jokes. He blushes and stares at the road.

“Thanks.” Dean mutters softly. “For Cas. For everything.”

“Anytime.” Crowley says with an emotionless expression on his face. But Dean knows better, now.

“You—” he starts. “Are you… I mean, are you mad?”

Crowley chuckles again.

“Oh, Dean, mad? Me?” He shakes his head. “You’re… happy with Castiel, right?”

“Yeah.” Dean says immediately. He doesn’t want to make it any worse for Crowley, but he can’t help it. “Yeah, I am.”

Crowley nods as he drives into the hospital’s parking lot surrounded by large trees and benches. He shuts off the engine and turns to Dean.

“It sounds like some crappy chick flick, which you love very much, but… that’s all I want you to be. Now, get your ass inside.”

Hospitals have never been Dean’s favorite place. He hasn’t been in them often, once with his mother, then because of his mother, then once with Sammy when he fell out of a tree. Bobby had brought them, and all Dean can remember is that Sam was actually fine and that they both got a piece of chocolate. That had been a nice experience, but his father yelling at them afterward hadn’t been. He never told Bobby that John had been angry. Dean still doesn’t know why his father had been so mad, but that had been the last time Dean’d gone to the hospital. And now he sits here, staring at Castiel’s peaceful face. He looks calm, no scary tubes connected to him, nothing weird. Just Castiel in hospital pajamas and his hair combed wrong. Dean wants to redo his hair, swipe it the right way, but just when he’s gotten the courage to do so, Chuck comes in.

Dean had been waiting for him. When Dean arrived at the hospital, he’d immediately asked for Castiel but he couldn’t see him yet. Crowley wanted the nurse to first check Dean over and get him some warm clothes. Dean just let it happen, knowing that refusing would only take time. He doesn’t know how long it took or what exactly happened. He just stood there, his thoughts with Castiel. He vaguely remembers asking if Chuck had been called and the nurse saying Castiel’s father was on his way. Dean barely remembers Crowley leaving. He doesn’t know how long it took until he could see Cas, he just knows that it felt like ages.

When Chuck arrives he looks at Dean and then at Castiel , and reaches to cup his son’s cheek.

“Thank you,” Chuck says and walks around to hug Dean. Dean is surprised but hugs back, Chuck’s small body solid and strong. It feels as if his energy moves through Dean as well. “Thank you for saving him. I heard what happened, well, as much as the principal and doctors knew…”

Dean explains with few words, and Chuck understands Dean doesn’t want to talk about John too much. They sit together in silence, Castiel’s slow breath calming them both.

“Sammy.” Dean suddenly looks up at Chuck, surprised by himself. “Fuck, I can’t pick him up, he doesn’t even know where I am—”

“It’s all right.” Chuck gives him a gentle, reassuring smile. “Gabriel picked up Alfie and Sam from school and he’s bringing them here. I figured you had other things on your mind.”

Dean nods thankfully; he feels stupid for only thinking about it now but with everything happening, he hadn’t realized Sam’s school already ended.

Gabriel arrives ten minutes later, with two quiet boys on either side.

Sam immediately hurries over to Dean and jumps into his arms, hugging him tight.

“Hey, Sammy,” Dean picks him up and puts him on his lap, holding him close so he won’t fall. “It’s gonna be okay, yeah? He just needs some sleep.”

Sam nods and leans heavily on Dean. Dean’s body is sore but he lets it happen, glad to feel his little brother warm and alive with him. Alfie is standing at Castiel’s bed, his little fingers gliding over the blanket softly.

“Why is he laying here?” he asks and turns to his father.

“He needs to have a little rest and help from the nurses, that’s all.” Chuck assures his son.

Gabriel is standing behind his father’s chair, hands on Chuck’s shoulders. Dean looks at them and catches Gabriel’s glance, who nods at him.

“You okay, Dean-o?”

“Yeah.” Dean smiles tiredly, his eyes gliding to Cas. “I’m okay.”

Chapter Text

Castiel awakens to soft sheets, a strange room, and the soft ticking of a clock. It takes him a while to realize where he is, but he understands suddenly when he sees all the white and the different bed. He moves his head, still a bit disoriented, and finds someone sitting in a chair next to him. At first he doesn’t believe that it’s actually true and he wonders if he’s hallucinating, but the person reacts to his movement.

Castiel frowns, rubbing his eyes to get used to the light from the lamp on the nightstands as he sits up against the pillows.

“Balthazar?”

His brother smiles at him so gently that Castiel knows he isn’t hallucinating. Balthazar looks tired but happy to see Cas awake.

“Hey, Cassie.” Balthazar sits upright and shifts closer. His standard v-neck is covered by a vest, his hair a little messy and the bags under his eyes dark. Yet he looks at Cas thoughtfully, bright and awake, peering into his eyes as if to check for any injuries.

Castiel feels unbalanced, as if he’d fallen asleep in the middle of the day and is waking up hours later wondering how he ever got so tired. Other than that, his body is sore and bruised on several places. Despite all this, he feels fine now he’s awake and safe and sitting next to his older brother. He tries to remember everything, but his memories are currently a messy ball of wool which he has to untangle slowly.

“What exactly happened?” Cas asks, frowning. “Where is Dean, where’s dad, where is—?”

“Easy there, Cassie, don’t go too hard on yourself. Sit back. You want some water?” Balthazar reaches for the glass of water on a bedside table and Castiel suddenly notices his dry throat. He drinks the water down eagerly as his older brother watches, satisfied.

“Just because I hit people in the face doesn’t mean you should, too, you know.” Balthazar’s lips curve into a smile, but his voice is genuine. “I was worried. We all were.”

Castiel swallows and turns the glass in his hands. He remembers what happened now, more clearly than before. He doesn’t regret it, he’d do it again, for Dean.

“Where’s Dean? Is he okay?”

Balthazar chuckles softly. He points at the other side of the room, and as Castiel follows his glance he sees Dean, curled up on a small couch, fast asleep, wrapped in a blanket and a hoodie. Castiel’s heart skips a beat and he sits up more. The warmth he suddenly felt coursing through him makes him want to get out of bed and go to Dean right away, but Balthazar puts his hand on Castiel’s arm.

“Wait,” he says. “Let him sleep for a bit longer. He wouldn’t leave you; father had to force him to get some rest. He’s only been asleep less than an hour.”

Castiel nods. As much as he wants Dean to be with him right now, he wants him to get some rest, too. “Can you tell me what happened exactly? I just remember punching John in the face and… water.”

“Dean said he got you out of the lake, someone did CPR, and then the ambulance came. You got into the hospital on time. Later, the doctor said he wanted to keep you asleep to make sure there wouldn’t be any swelling in your brain, since you’d hit your head pretty hard. Father and Dean were here when I arrived and you were sleeping; Gabriel went home to watch over Alfie and Sam. Father is talking to the police now, he’ll be back soon.”

Castiel just nods, trying to take everything in. He’s a little overwhelmed; he doesn’t know how he should feel. Glad, because he hopes that from now on John won’t hurt Dean or Sam anymore? Sorry, because Dean made him promise not to include the police? Scared, because everything is a mess now and he doesn’t know what is going to happen to Dean and Sam, he doesn’t even know what’s going to happen to him…

“Cas?” Dean’s groggy voice pulls him from his swirling thoughts. He turns his head to see Dean jumping up from the couch. The hood from his sweatshirt slips from his head as he hurries over to Cas’ bed, almost stumbling over his own feet. Balthazar gets up to make place for him, and smiles at them.

“I’ll get some coffee and see where father’s at.” As soon as they’re alone, Dean grabs Castiel’s hands and shifts closer to the bed.

“Hello, Dean.” Cas smiles, despite Dean’s worried look he can only be extremely relieved to see him. Dean scoffs and smiles back, though he shakes his head.

“Never do that again, Cas. You had me worried like hell.”

“I can’t promise that,” he says, sitting up some more as his thumb glides over Dean’s hand. “If I see him again, I’d do the same thing.”

“Cas.” Dean swallows, biting his lip. “Don’t—don’t say that, you… you could’ve drowned.”

“After everything he did to you, to Sam, I couldn’t just let him stand there. Think about it, would you?” Castiel says, voice hardening. “Besides, I didn’t drown.”

Dean swallows. He doesn’t look pleased, but Castiel knows he understands. It’s obvious that Dean would’ve done the same.

“Thank you,” Cas murmurs and gently squeezes Dean’s hand. “For being here. For saving me.”

“Crowley did.” Dean clears his throat and avoids Castiel’s glance. “When I got you out of the water, you weren’t… you weren’t breathing and I… I didn’t know what to do, I was freaking out, but Crowley… He resuscitated you, not me.” Dean shakes his head. “Fuck, what if—?”

“Dean.” Castiel’s fingers tighten around Dean’s again. Though it feels weird to know that he owes his life to Crowley, Castiel doesn’t think about it for too long. “You got me out, remember?” Castiel guides Dean’s hand towards his lips and kisses them, lips touching rough, chapped skin. He looks at the scraped open knuckles and his eyes widen. “You used them?”

“Must have scratched them getting you out of the water. I didn’t even notice.” They sit together in silence, smiling at each other. Cas wonders what’s going to happen with Dean and Sam now, will John go to jail? Just when he opens his mouth, the door opens and his father, Balthazar, and a doctor come in, and Castiel’s hand slips out of Dean’s.

The doctors say Castiel doesn’t have to stay long. They will keep him in the hospital for the rest of the day, and he can go home in the evening. Castiel doesn’t really mind, he’s glad to see his father, his brothers, and Dean safe and happy, and he’s feeling fine. His head hurts only a little, and his body just feels as if he’s done a four hour baseball game on full energy. He feels drained but he’s mostly tired, not hurt. He tries not to think about what will happen too much, though he isn’t able to completely ignore the voices in his head. All he can calm himself with is the thought that nothing will be as bad as Dean and Sam living with John Winchester.

Dean is with him constantly. Chuck and Balthazar seem to understand and, after they sat with Castiel for over an hour and Castiel’s eyelids got heavy, they left them alone. Dean lays with him, uneasy on the awkward hospital bed, but warm and solid against Castiel. They end up falling asleep pressed up against each other, and at that moment, no other place would’ve been better.

They wake up in the late in the afternoon when the nurse comes in. Dean starts an apology about his shoes as he quickly gets off the bed, but the nurse smiles at him.

“It’s nothing, sweetheart, you both needed some sleep.” She checks the papers she’s holding, then presses her hand on Castiel’s forehead to feel his temperature and nods approvingly.

“Good,” she says, scribbling something down. “Any problems? Breathing, headache?”

“Slight headache, but it’s nothing major.” Cas answers as he sits up. He feels cold now Dean is sitting on the chair again, but the sleep helped. “I’m feeling pretty good.”

The nurse smiles. “That’s excellent, honey, I’ll let the doctors know. You’ll have dinner here and can go home afterwards, all right? Your dad would like to see you, too.”

“Sure.” Castiel nods, just as they hear a loud, female voice from the hall.

“You’re gonna let me see him!” Castiel immediately knows who it is. “If you don’t—if you don’t let me in, I’m hacking all your systems, and don’t you think I’m bluffing, because I will—”

“Charlie.” Chuck’s voice suddenly interrupts. “It’s all right, doctor, she’s with me. She’s his best friend, excuse her, please.”

Dean and Castiel share a smile just when Charlie comes bursting in.

“They only just told me you were awake, those assholes!” she says, her hair bouncing around her face wildly.

“Hey, Char.” Castiel smiles. She points at him and shakes her head.

“Don’t you think you can call me that now.” Then, her face breaks into a smile. “Hey, Casanova.” She leans over to give him a hug and pulls him close to her. “It’s good to see you awake.”

She sits down on the side of his bed after giving Dean a hug as well, and Chuck pulls up an extra chair.

“Oh, by the way, that tux place called when I was on my way here so I’ll pick it up tomorrow if that’s okay?” Charlie asks, and nudges Castiel impatiently when he frowns. “Your suit? Prom?”

“I—I forgot about prom,” Cas scoffs, suddenly remembering that would be next week. It feels so unimportant now, though he looks forward to going there with Dean as well. He’d never seen why it would be exciting, but now he’s with Dean, it suddenly makes sense.

Chuck cuts in with a story about his prom. They talk and laugh together, keeping away the underlying tension they’re all feeling, but none want to think about. Now is not the time.

Castiel is glad to be going home. It’s already dark outside and it’s raining. Talking and dinner exhausted him, but the car is warm. Dean has his arm wrapped around his shoulder, and Castiel has curled himself up against Dean’s side. Dean is resting his head on Castiel’s hair. He’s close, alive, safe, and happy and it’s as if Castiel can finally fully relax. He falls asleep to the soft music on the radio, the calm voices of Balthazar and his father in the front, and Dean’s warm hand on his leg, stroking gently. When he wakes up, Dean is loosening his seatbelt.

“Come on, angel, gotta get you inside.”

It’s only a bit embarrassing to not be able to walk alone. Dean’s solid grip keeps him from falling and they make it inside. Before Castiel can even take off his jacket, Gabriel comes hurrying through the hall and embraces him tightly.

“Jesus, little brother.”

Castiel hugs back, surprised. Gabriel checks him when he pulls away and seems satisfied.

“You’re gonna tell me everything tomorrow, but I think you could use your rest now.” His voice is soft. “Alfie and Sam are sleeping in the living room,” he explains.

After Cas reassures his father he’ll be okay, Dean helps him get upstairs. Once they’re in Castiel’s room and Dean closes the door, they’re finally alone.

Castiel doesn’t know who took the initiative, but suddenly his lips are on Dean’s and his hands are in that wild dirty blond hair. Dean is holding him close; Cas hums into Dean’s mouth with a soft nudge of his nose on Dean’s cheek. It’s dark, but Cas can feel his lips curve.

“You need sleep,” Dean whispers as he slides off Castiel’s jacket, throws it on the floor and unbuttons his shirt. He presses slow, lingering kisses on Castiel’s lips as he talks and slowly undresses Cas. “I’ll be there, and we’ll sleep, and we’ll wake up together,” he murmurs. Without a warning, he lifts Cas like he weighs nothing, his strong hands on Castiel’s hips, but not tight enough to hurt him. Castiel laughs, surprised, and lets Dean guide him to the bed. He pulls Dean down with him into the soft pillows, while Dean is unbuttoning Castiel’s fly and sliding his jeans down with ease. Castiel is too tired to think too much as Dean undresses himself in the dark. A moment later, Dean’s lips find his again. “Tomorrow, we’ll see,” Dean hums as they get under the sheets. “Whatever happens, I’ll be right here.” He pulls Cas closer. Castiel blindly finds the tattoo on Dean’s chest and traces it with his fingertips.

“I’ll be with you.” Castiel replies. He presses his head against Dean’s shoulder and relaxes. “Dean?” he eventually whispers.

“Hmm?”

“Are you… afraid?” he asks, suddenly nervous. Dean doesn’t tense, his fingers wandering over Castiel’s side.

“Yeah, of course. But I think—” He hesitates. His lips press into Castiel’s hair, and Cas answers with a soft kiss on Dean’s jaw. “I think whatever happens,” Dean continues, his voice soft and deep. “In the end, everything is going to be okay.”

It is already light outside when Castiel wakes up. He is pressed up against Dean, afraid to lose him in his sleep, his arms wrapped around Dean’s waist. Dean stirs when Castiel moves and tiredly pulls Cas closer.

“Hey…” he mutters, still half asleep.

“Morning, Dean.” It’s weird, how relaxed he feels despite everything that happened. He feels more comfortable than he felt in a long time. Maybe that’s why he slept so long. He lays like that for a while and lets his eyes get used to the light. They enjoy each other’s presence without saying a word, the only sounds are those from the birds outside. Cas wonders if the others are awake yet or if they’ve left the house, then decides he doesn’t care. Not yet. Dean’s body is warm. Cas’ eyes are now adjusted to the light and he can look at the messy dark locks of hair on the pillow, Dean’s long lashes, the freckles almost golden in the warm glow of sunlight from the window. Suddenly Castiel wants to kiss him, the manly scruff, the dimples in his cheeks, the plump, soft lips. He does, without hesitating, and drags himself up and over Dean’s body.

Dean answers with a surprised sound, but pulls Cas on top with gentle hands. Dean’s hands are warm and smooth as they wander on his back, his shoulders, his cheek. Dean rolls them around, guiding Cas back into the pillows. It feels easy, the way Dean is holding him and letting his lips wander over Cas’ skin but when their eyes meet, Castiel sees that Dean is nervous. He smiles affectionately and lays a hand on his cheek.

“It’s okay,” he whispers. “You’re beautiful.” Saying it is so simple because it’s true, Dean is glowing. His body, broad and sturdy, the tattoos, his smiles, Dean is beautiful.

“Tell me if I go too far.”

Cas nods, but knows he won’t need to. Dean wouldn’t go too far, he wouldn’t be able to. He kisses Castiel’s neck and soon finds a rhythm, his hands always roaming an undiscovered place. When his hand reaches Castiel’s boxers, Dean doesn’t hesitate. His hands are tender though, fingers following the bulge under the fabric between them. Castiel can only moan in reply, a sound from deep down his throat that makes Dean smile.

“Easy angel, easy…” he whispers, kissing down Cas’ neck as Cas tries to pull him closer. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Soon Dean’s touches become heavier, more steady. He squeezes the inside of Castiel’s thighs, pushing his legs apart. Even those soft touches are enough to make Castiel shiver with anticipation. He pulls Dean down onto him, his arms aching slightly but not enough to keep him from wrapping them around Dean’s neck. They find each other’s lips again, with Dean’s hands still between Cas’ legs, gliding their way back up. Cas rocks his hips into them; their kisses become more feverish and rough. Dean’s hands reach the waistband of Cas’ boxershorts. He hesitates.

“Dean…” Cas mutters. “Don’t stop.”

“Are you sure—? You don’t have to, I don’t want you to…”

“Please…” Cas looks at him, Dean’s lips are parted and he’s panting softly. “I want this—I want you, Dean.” He reaches down, and pushes Dean’s hand holding his boxers down, eyes fixed on Dean’s face.

Dean breathes out a nervous chuckle and takes the gesture as his sign to pull the clothing down. It ends up somewhere on the floor, but Castiel is busy kissing Dean’s jaw, a blush suddenly heating his skin when he realizes he’s entirely naked.

When Dean’s hand ever so carefully wraps around Castiel’s length, Castiel moans loud into his shoulder. His lips press onto Dean’s neck, his tongue darts and tastes salt. He feels the thrum of Dean’s heart beating rapidly under his skin, then Dean continues to stroke his cock, and it doesn’t take long until he finds a rhythm, more confident now. Heavy and strong, just like Dean’s breathing. Castiel falls apart under him, never having felt something so overwhelming with heat pooling in his stomach.

“Dean…” he gasps, digging his nails into his shoulders. “If you don’t stop I’ll—”

“Wait.” Dean demands as he suddenly stops moving, then he hastily pushes his own straining boxers down. Castiel feels Dean’s thick, heavy length press against his leg and pulls Dean closer.

He can barely breathe when Dean kisses along his neck, sucking the soft skin into his mouth. One of Cas’ arms slips from Dean’s back. Dean grabs his wrist, pushes it into the mattress, and looks at Cas. His green eyes are dark, beautiful, and wild. Then he leans in for another kiss and wraps his hand around Castiel’s throbbing cock.

Cas is lost again, Dean rocking his hips in the same rhythm as his hand around Cas. Dean’s sounds, rough and deep, are all Cas can hear, his flushed cheeks, closed eyes, and parted lips all he can see.

“Oh, fuck, Cas…” He groans. “Cas—”

The noise Dean makes when he comes is enough to send Cas over the edge. He buries his groan into Dean’s warm neck, gasping as his hips thrust up into Dean’s hand, the two of them falling apart into each other.

Dean falls back into the mattress next to him, their bodies pressed against each other, heavy and warm. Cas’ lungs are filled with the musky cinnamon scent of Dean, and he can think of nothing but Dean. Their breathing stays irregular for a while, slowly coming back to reality.

Then Dean’s lips are pressing messily against his neck, sending a shiver down Cas’ spine.

“You’re stunning.”

Despite that they’re dirty and they might have been a bit too loud, Castiel’s cheeks turn dark now.

“Dean…” They look at each other, as if examining each other’s thoughts. In Dean’s eyes there is nothing but happiness.

“Was that okay?” Dean asks softly, his fingers gliding up into Castiel’s.

“Very much so,” Cas whispers. He smiles affectionately, and Dean smiles back. “Was that okay for you?”

“Very much so,” Dean replies, and Cas chuckles, shifting on the bed.

“We’re dirty. We should get cleaned up.”

“Yeah,” Dean says, kissing the bruise on Castiel’s neck. “Five more minutes.”

Chapter Text

They go back to school a few days afterward. It feels odd to be back in the hassle of students freaking out over a test, hurrying through the halls only focused on finding their class on time. It feels so unimportant, and in fact, it is. Dean and Cas need to talk to the counselor first, later with the principal. When they’re not talking to them, their classmates keep on asking questions. Dean tells them all to leave Cas alone, Cas tells them to stop asking Dean what happened. Dean and Sam had stayed over at the Shurleys for the first few days. Child services want them, especially Sam, to go to family, but Dean and Sam have no other family. Eventually, Bobby and Ellen are recognized as the closest to family and became the designated parents instead of taking Sam to a foster home.

John’s trial is in fall. It’s far away, yet Cas knows Dean is already nervous about it. But he promised Cas to not think about it too much, not until their school and summer vacation are over.

The worst thing Castiel ever decided to do is hang out with Charlie the day of prom. First of all, she’d made a list of the things they would do, and secondly, she decided that they’re going to prom together and meeting Dean and Dorothy there, and she won’t budge.

“It’s like marriage!” she says as she tries to put on her shoe without looking away from Cas.

“What?” Cas knits his eyebrows, half-amused as Charlie tries to get her hair in a ponytail while grabbing her jacket.

“You know what I mean, Cas!” She doesn’t see his teasing smile, too busy grabbing her bags. “You can’t sleep in the same bed the night before your marriage, can’t have sex, so…”

“Oh, well, that’s a problem because…”

“Gross!” Charlie pushes against his shoulder, ushering him to the hall. “I don’t need to know what you were doing with Dean yesterday.” She can’t help but grin as they walk out of the door. “So before going to your place I was wondering if I should get you a haircut because…” She gives him a glance, “I wanted to do that with you a week ago but you were still recovering and I’m afraid if we go now, your hair might end up bad and we don’t have time because-”

“Charlie,” Cas grabs her arm as they walk towards the bus. “Listen, we’re gonna be fine. And I don’t need a haircut.”

They didn’t make any plans before prom because Charlie and Dean were afraid Cas wouldn't be well on time, despite his promises that he would be.

Instead, they go to Castiel’s house to have lunch, but Charlie is way too nervous to sit down for too long and drags him upstairs to get changed before he can finish.

While he’s putting his suit on, feeling way too formal, Dean calls.

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel says while Charlie tries to snatch his phone out of his hands. “Charlie doesn’t want us to talk.”

“It’s important,” Dean says with a chuckle. “I miss you. How’re you holding up?”

“I miss you too,” Cas answers and Charlie finally gives up. “But it’s only an hour left, so…”

“I can’t wait to see you. I was thinking… We could just ditch prom and go somewhere together.”

“Charlie will murder me,” Cas laughs. “I’ll see you there, honey.”

“Ugh, fine. See you then, angel.”

It’s crowded, even more so than Castiel expected. He’s standing in the hall together with Charlie, who’s trying to look over people’s heads to find Dorothy.

“It was your idea to go separate,” Castiel says as they walk towards the side of the dance floor to get a drink. “I told you it would be difficult.” People are already dancing on the loud music, but Castiel and Charlie stand aside and watch. Some students greet them as they pass, until a group of girls, including Dorothy, approach them.

As Charlie is dragged to the dancefloor by her girlfriend, the other girls look at Castiel expectantly.

“Where’s your date, Cas?” Meg asks with a lift of her eyebrow.

“I’m not sure,” Castiel says with a smile as he looks around again. “Might be here any moment.”

The girls look at each other and two of them start whispering but Cas acts as if he doesn’t notice.

From behind him, a sudden voice makes him startle.

“You were looking for a date?”

Castiel turns around, standing face to face with Dean. He isn’t wearing any of his piercings or makeup, his hair is its messy self, but his suit is a dark burgundy color and Castiel can only stare.

“I was.” He smiles, touching Dean’s suit. “You look very handsome, Dean.”

“You do, too,” Dean whispers. Cas can tell that he’s nervous; he’s shielding himself from the people by turning around, looking only at Cas.

“You want a drink?” Castiel asks, he’d rather kiss Dean right here and now but he knows there are at least five girls around them, probably watching the two of them with great interest.

They get a drink first, and Castiel suddenly realizes how many people actually look at him, more than normal. It takes him a while to understand. Then he remembers it’s not even a week ago he returned to school and people have barely seen him. All they know is that something happened that one Wednesday, there were cops and an ambulance and that Castiel didn’t come to school for a few days, even missing a baseball game.

It makes him a little uncomfortable, and he turns to Dean.

“They’re all looking at us because… because of what happened,” he mutters. Dean’s arm slides around his waist to pull him closer.

“It’s okay.” Dean gives him a smile. “Remember what I said a while ago? People will look at you no matter what. But I don’t care about them, not more than I care about you. And guess what?” Dean takes Castiel’s glass and puts it aside. He takes Castiel’s hand. “We’ll make them all jealous.”

When they reach the dancefloor and another song starts, both of them start laughing.

“We have a terrible timing.” Dean grins, pulling Castiel close, locking their hands together and resting his other hand on Castiel’s waist.

“Shut up, Winchester.” Cas smiles. “Dance with me.”

Maybe people make way because Castiel is the captain of the baseball team. Maybe people make way because they’re two guys. Castiel doesn’t care. Dean is leading him; his smile mesmerizing when Castiel twirls under his arm.

“I’ve been waiting for so long, now I’ve finally found someone to stand by me.” Castiel never liked this song particularly, but right now it’s the best song ever made. It could’ve been anything; Dean’s laugh is carefree and loud, his hand strong in Castiel’s, and their worries disappeared.

“So I’ll tell you something… This could be love,” Dean whispers, and Cas feels his cheeks burn.

When the music slows down, Dean pulls Castiel closer. Only now Cas realizes people are actually watching them. They’re chanting something, but Castiel doesn’t hear what they’re saying. Dean apparently does.

He lets go of Castiel’s waist and rests his hand on Cas’ cheek, leaning in. It’s their first real kiss in public, and despite his heart beating high in his throat, Castiel smiles when his lips find Dean’s.

They almost stop dancing, Dean leaning in more and kissing him a second time. Cas’ hand on Dean’s shoulder glides down his back. He holds onto him tightly; Dean smells like the familiar cinnamon and leather, his lips taste sweet.

The music pulls them back to reality. Their foreheads pressed together, they laugh and keep on dancing until the music fades and people start clapping. Castiel looks aside, unable to stop grinning and feels Dean press his forehead into Castiel’s shoulder.

“You wanna get outta here for a sec?” He hears Dean whisper.

“Yeah.”

The wind is cold and refreshing on Castiel’s warm cheeks. He leans against Dean’s body as they listen to the music from inside and watch the people who apparently felt like it was too crowded inside as well.

“You okay with… everyone knowing?” Dean asks. His fingers ghost over Cas’ arm. They had stopped hiding a while ago, but there’d still been plenty of people unaware.

“If you are.”

“Yeah,” Dean says immediately and pulls him close against him. “They better know you’re mine.”

Cas chuckles and pulls Dean’s arm over his shoulder. He breathes in deeply.

“Then it’s okay.”

They go back inside after a while, dancing together, dancing with Charlie and Dorothy, and laughing until their throats are sore.

When taking pictures, Cas’ arm around Dean’s shoulder and Dean resting his head on Castiel, smiling, Castiel pulls him closer and presses a kiss in Dean’s hair, forgetting the photographer.

The picture turns out to be beautiful.