SPN, The one where Dean confesses, 1/1, PG13, Dean/Castiel, 2233
Title: The one where Dean confesses, part of the Take a Deep Breath ‘verse
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Castiel, Michael, Gabriel, Claire Novak, Anna Milton
Warning(s): HS!AU, direct references to partner betrayal
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): hs_bingo, “break up,” table
Word Count: 2,223
Master List: Here
Rants: Ughhh. When I originally wrote the Dean/Gabriel scene, it seemed like a good idea. That was before I sorta broke down and started avoiding angst at all costs. I made this bed though, and I am going to lay in it. So, here is the start of the “making things better” because, ya know, things have to get worse first.
Summary: It takes three days for Dean to break down and tell Castiel what happened at Crowley’s on New Year’s Eve.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural and I very likely never will. Next question.
Crossposted to: Every five updates, see master list.
It only takes Dean three days to break down and tell Castiel the truth. It’s the absolute last thing he wants to do, but Castiel is so sweet and honest, and he looks at Dean like Dean is his everything and Dean - Dean doesn’t deserve that. New Year’s Eve was evidence enough of that.
The problem is, is that once Dean decides he needs to tell Castiel the truth because he’s done lying (’lying by omission isn’t the same as flat out lying’, his brain says, but it doesn’t make him feel any better), it becomes almost impossible to get a moment alone with him.
Michael is in town, visiting for the holidays. He’s an ass, as per usual, but everyone is just so damn glad that he came home for once that they seem to be overlooking it. He’s pretentious, going on and on about how Harvard Law is everything he’s ever wanted and how he and Lisa are talking about getting married and how his life is so fucking perfect. He acts like he achieved everything on his own, like he earned it.
Still, if there is one person Castiel hero worships more than he does Dean, its Michael.
That’s the only reason Dean bites his tongue when Michael is around. There is a giddy-gleeful part of him that always thinks ‘I slept with Lisa first, asshole, those are my sloppy seconds’ but it’s not something he ever voices. It’s stupid and childish, Dean knows that, but it still makes him grin to think about when Michael is on a tangent. Also, he likes Lisa and Ben. She’s one of the best friend’s he’s ever had and she always smiles when Dean sings Ben to sleep with Led Zeppelin.
Ever since Michael came into town three weeks ago, he and Dean have been fighting for Castiel’s attentions. Whether Michael actually cares to spend time with his youngest brother or not is hard to tell, because it’s always about him, but Castiel will never say “no” to an outing with his oldest brother.
It’s exactly how Dean ended up at Italian restaurant with a name he couldn’t even begin to pronounce. He’s smooshed between Castiel and Claire, and it wouldn’t be so bad, but both of them are shooting him lovesick looks.
Claire at least looks away when she’s caught staring.
Castiel just stares harder. He’s taken to resting his hand on Dean’s thigh innocently, too, and it just makes Dean feel worse.
Dinner is terrible. Well, no. The food is amazing and Dean scarfs his down like there is no tomorrow as civilized as he can possibly manage. He can feel the look of fond exasperation that Castiel sends him. He ignores the dark looks Michael sends him.
Michael, as predicted, talks about himself for most of the night. When he’s done preening his own feathers, he starts accusing Gabriel of slacking off and praises Anna and Claire for doing well in school. When it comes to Castiel, Michael keeps his mouth shut. The glares he sends Dean’s way are more than clue enough to how he feels about his youngest brother’s life.
Afterwards, when Michael is paying the bill (because he’s such a kind, generous brother who likes to spoil his siblings), Dean leans over to whisper in Castiel’s ear.
”There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he murmurs. He has to fight the urge to press his lips against Castiel’s skin. “Tell Michael I’ll give you a ride home.”
Castiel cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed in confusion. “Dean?”
”Just - “ Dean starts. He shakes his head, and sighs heavily. “It’s important, Cas.”
Castiel nods his head solemnly. He waits until they’re outside, watching his sisters climb into the backseat of Michael’s fancy black car, before he mentions it though. “I am getting a ride home with Dean.”
A look of annoyance crosses Michael’s face, and he places his elbows on the snow covered hood of his car. “We’re going to the same place, Castiel. Father expects me to bring you home in half an hour.”
”Relax,” Dean says, scoffing. “I live right down the street from you. It’s hardly like he’s going to be late.”
”Castiel - “ Michael starts.
”I have made up my mind,” Castiel says. He rests his cheek against Dean’s shoulder and entwines their fingers together. He smiles up at Dean, shyly and sweetly.
Dean just stares at the front passenger side tire of Michael’s car. “I’ve driven in snow way worse than this, Michael. He’ll be fine.”
After a moment of silent glaring between Dean and Michael, and silent determination from Castiel, Michael relents. “No back roads. You will come home.
”Of course,” Castiel says. Once again, he’s the perfect picture of obedience. He has to duck his head to hide his smile before he tugs Dean in the direction of the Impala. Once they make it to the classic car, Castiel forces himself onto his tiptoes to kiss Dean. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
Dean shrugs his shoulders as casually as he can manage and tries to ignore the hurt look Castiel sends him when Dean makes no effort to return the kiss. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and like I said, we need to talk.”
”Oh,” Castiel says simply. “What about?”
”Get in,” Dean says instead, stepping around Castiel to unlock the freshman’s door before he makes his way around to climb into the driver’s side. The Impala roars to life when Dean turns the ignition, and he has to force himself to turn the music down.
Castiel is watching him expectantly, but Dean doesn’t know how to voice the words that need to be spoken. It’s even worse when dark blue eyes are focused on him intently as Dean pulls out of the parking lot. “Dean…”
Gritting his teeth, Dean curls his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. “I did something bad, Cas.”
”How bad?” Castiel asks. He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow again, but it does nothing to lessen the intensity of his gaze.
”Really bad,” Dean says, fighting back a bad laugh. “Like, bad enough that we really shouldn’t talk about it while I’m trying to drive over snow and ice.”
Castiel gets a deeply contemplative look on his face and makes a thoughtful sound. Dean would almost find it cute or funny, but Castiel has always seen Dean through rose colored glasses. He’s never been capable of faulting Dean or seeing the bad side of him.
It’s why Dean is such a terrible person. Castiel used to hero worship him. Now Dean’s going to break his heart.
”Did you get in another fight with Sam?” Castiel asks.
”No, but I imagine he’s going to yell at me when we get back,” Dean mutters. At Castiel’s blank stare, Dean clears his throat. “No, Cas, that ain’t it.”
”Your father? Your step mother? Adam?”
”There wasn’t any fighting involved,” Dean sighs. “There wasn’t really any talking involved. Listen, seriously, can we not talk about this right now?”
Castiel manages to bite his tongue for a few minutes, and he seems almost fixated by the rear lights of Michael’s shiny black car. It’s too dark to make out anyone inside beyond a blurry shadow, and for a while, Dean thinks Castiel has dropped the subject. “You didn’t punch anybody again, did you?”
Sighing heavily, Dean asks, ”are we really going to play the guessing game all the way back?”
”If you told me, I would not be forced to guess,” Castiel says casually. Instead of looking at Dean, he looks out his own window, and he brings a finger up to trace letters on the chilled glass.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see ‘D E A N’ written in Castiel’s impossibly perfect handwriting, with ‘C A S T I E L’ written neatly beneath it. It makes something clench inside of Dean tightly, and there’s a wave of nauseous guilt that floods through his system. “God, I love you, Cas,” Dean breaths. He curls his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He has to force himself to pay attention to the road.
”I love you,” Castiel replies. His tone is so sure, so determined, but when he reaches out to touch Dean’s elbow, it’s hesitant. “Dean, what happened?”
”I cheated on you.” The words are out of Dean’s mouth before he can stop them and he’s actually kind of grateful. He’s spent the last three days trying to figure out how to say this, how to broach this subject. In the end, it’s probably for the best. He’s dodged along the topic for too long already.
”Oh,” Castiel says. He pulls his hand away from Dean, and folds it on his lap with his other hand, fingers curling and twisting together. He stares down at his hands, and even out of the corner of his eyes, Dean can see Castiel’s face is blank. “Did you - did you sleep with them?”
Dean has to fight the urge to hang his head in shame. “Yeah.”
”Who was it?”
”Jesus fucking Christ, Cas,” Dean says. He has to grit his teeth for a second to bite back the litany of curses on the tip of his tongue, but when they pass, he casts a glance over at Castiel. “I tell you I cheated on you and you want to know with who?”
”I think I at least have the right to know who you favor over me,” Castiel replies coldly. When he glances over at Dean, he’s glaring out of the corner of his eyes, fingers curled tightly into his own thighs. “Was it Lisa? Cassie? Kali? Meg or Becky or Risa?”
”No,” Dean says vehemently. “It wasn’t like that! Cas, you know I would never - “
”Apparently I don’t, Dean,” Castiel says darkly. “So who was it? When?”
”I was drunk!” Dean snaps. It takes all his concentration to keep the car on the road and this is exactly why he didn’t want to have this conversation before they made it back home. The driveway wasn’t necessarily private, but at least Dean didn’t run the risk of killing them both. “It was Crowley’s New Year’s Eve party and I was drunk and - and it seemed like a good idea at the time!”
Castiel is nearly trembling in rage. He glowers at Dean again before turning his attention back to his window. Almost absentmindedly, he brings up a hand to smear away both of their names. “Who?” he repeats, his voice low and dark.
Dean thinks he might be scared of Castiel right now, never mind that he’s fifteen and positively tiny. “Cas,” Dean says, pleading. “Believe when I say you don’t want to know. You really don’t want to know.”
”Please don’t make me beg, Dean,” Castiel breathes, his voice trembling.
Against his better judgment, Dean spares Castiel a look. Even through the darkened reflection, he can see the tears spilling down Castiel’s face while he tries to wipe them away casually. “Cas…”
”Dean.”
For a moment, Dean has no idea what to say or do. If he tells the truth, he’ll completely ruin Castiel’s and Gabriel’s relationship. He might not get along with Gabriel more often than not, but Castiel loves his brothers, all of his brothers, with a frightening dedication. Castiel loves his brothers as much as Dean loves Sam. If Dean doesn’t tell Castiel, though, then it’s only Dean who has to suffer. Castiel may well never trust him again, but it’s what Dean deserves. The problem is, Dean can’t lie to Castiel. He’s never been able to. “Don’t ask me that, Cas. Please, don’t ask me that.”
Castiel makes a choked sound and scrubs at his eyes furiously. “Gabriel?” he asks, his voice weak. He looks at Dean then, silently pleading for Dean to correct him, to tell him “no.”
Dean bites his lip, but doesn’t speak.
It’s answer enough.
They don’t talk for the rest of the ride home, but it’s far from silent. Beneath the rhythmic swoosh-swoosh of the windshield wipers brushing away drifting snow at regular intervals and the low hum of ‘Hotel California’ from the stereo, Castiel sniffles pathetically. Occasionally, he lets out a low whimper or whine, and Dean has to steel his jaw and force his attention onto the road. He is the absolute last person Castiel wants to comfort him right now.
When their houses are near, visible through the lazy blanket of snow, Dean opens his mouth to speak. At first, his voice cracks, and he has to swallow and lick his lips nervously. “Listen, Cas - “ The words die on his tongue. Dean has no idea what to say, besides “I’m sorry” and judging from Castiel’s snort, it means nothing.
The minute Dean pulls into the driveway, Castiel is unbuckled and out of the car, slamming his door behind him. By the time Dean slips it into park and kills the ignition, Castiel is gone.
Dean doesn’t bother to get out of the car. He curls in upon himself as much as he can manage, forehead resting against the steering wheel, clutching it until his knuckles are white once more. Against his will, a low moan escapes his lips, and he can feel tears prickle at the back of his eyes. All he can think is, ‘how can I be so stupid?
Author: sephirothflame
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: PG13
Character(s)/Pairing(s): Dean Winchester x Castiel, Michael, Gabriel, Claire Novak, Anna Milton
Warning(s): HS!AU, direct references to partner betrayal
Spoiler(s): None
Prompt(s): hs_bingo, “break up,” table
Word Count: 2,223
Master List: Here
Rants: Ughhh. When I originally wrote the Dean/Gabriel scene, it seemed like a good idea. That was before I sorta broke down and started avoiding angst at all costs. I made this bed though, and I am going to lay in it. So, here is the start of the “making things better” because, ya know, things have to get worse first.
Summary: It takes three days for Dean to break down and tell Castiel what happened at Crowley’s on New Year’s Eve.
Disclaimer: I don’t own Supernatural and I very likely never will. Next question.
Crossposted to: Every five updates, see master list.
It only takes Dean three days to break down and tell Castiel the truth. It’s the absolute last thing he wants to do, but Castiel is so sweet and honest, and he looks at Dean like Dean is his everything and Dean - Dean doesn’t deserve that. New Year’s Eve was evidence enough of that.
The problem is, is that once Dean decides he needs to tell Castiel the truth because he’s done lying (’lying by omission isn’t the same as flat out lying’, his brain says, but it doesn’t make him feel any better), it becomes almost impossible to get a moment alone with him.
Michael is in town, visiting for the holidays. He’s an ass, as per usual, but everyone is just so damn glad that he came home for once that they seem to be overlooking it. He’s pretentious, going on and on about how Harvard Law is everything he’s ever wanted and how he and Lisa are talking about getting married and how his life is so fucking perfect. He acts like he achieved everything on his own, like he earned it.
Still, if there is one person Castiel hero worships more than he does Dean, its Michael.
That’s the only reason Dean bites his tongue when Michael is around. There is a giddy-gleeful part of him that always thinks ‘I slept with Lisa first, asshole, those are my sloppy seconds’ but it’s not something he ever voices. It’s stupid and childish, Dean knows that, but it still makes him grin to think about when Michael is on a tangent. Also, he likes Lisa and Ben. She’s one of the best friend’s he’s ever had and she always smiles when Dean sings Ben to sleep with Led Zeppelin.
Ever since Michael came into town three weeks ago, he and Dean have been fighting for Castiel’s attentions. Whether Michael actually cares to spend time with his youngest brother or not is hard to tell, because it’s always about him, but Castiel will never say “no” to an outing with his oldest brother.
It’s exactly how Dean ended up at Italian restaurant with a name he couldn’t even begin to pronounce. He’s smooshed between Castiel and Claire, and it wouldn’t be so bad, but both of them are shooting him lovesick looks.
Claire at least looks away when she’s caught staring.
Castiel just stares harder. He’s taken to resting his hand on Dean’s thigh innocently, too, and it just makes Dean feel worse.
Dinner is terrible. Well, no. The food is amazing and Dean scarfs his down like there is no tomorrow as civilized as he can possibly manage. He can feel the look of fond exasperation that Castiel sends him. He ignores the dark looks Michael sends him.
Michael, as predicted, talks about himself for most of the night. When he’s done preening his own feathers, he starts accusing Gabriel of slacking off and praises Anna and Claire for doing well in school. When it comes to Castiel, Michael keeps his mouth shut. The glares he sends Dean’s way are more than clue enough to how he feels about his youngest brother’s life.
Afterwards, when Michael is paying the bill (because he’s such a kind, generous brother who likes to spoil his siblings), Dean leans over to whisper in Castiel’s ear.
”There’s something I need to talk to you about,” he murmurs. He has to fight the urge to press his lips against Castiel’s skin. “Tell Michael I’ll give you a ride home.”
Castiel cocks his head to the side, brow furrowed in confusion. “Dean?”
”Just - “ Dean starts. He shakes his head, and sighs heavily. “It’s important, Cas.”
Castiel nods his head solemnly. He waits until they’re outside, watching his sisters climb into the backseat of Michael’s fancy black car, before he mentions it though. “I am getting a ride home with Dean.”
A look of annoyance crosses Michael’s face, and he places his elbows on the snow covered hood of his car. “We’re going to the same place, Castiel. Father expects me to bring you home in half an hour.”
”Relax,” Dean says, scoffing. “I live right down the street from you. It’s hardly like he’s going to be late.”
”Castiel - “ Michael starts.
”I have made up my mind,” Castiel says. He rests his cheek against Dean’s shoulder and entwines their fingers together. He smiles up at Dean, shyly and sweetly.
Dean just stares at the front passenger side tire of Michael’s car. “I’ve driven in snow way worse than this, Michael. He’ll be fine.”
After a moment of silent glaring between Dean and Michael, and silent determination from Castiel, Michael relents. “No back roads. You will come home.
”Of course,” Castiel says. Once again, he’s the perfect picture of obedience. He has to duck his head to hide his smile before he tugs Dean in the direction of the Impala. Once they make it to the classic car, Castiel forces himself onto his tiptoes to kiss Dean. “Thank you for coming tonight.”
Dean shrugs his shoulders as casually as he can manage and tries to ignore the hurt look Castiel sends him when Dean makes no effort to return the kiss. “I haven’t seen you in a while, and like I said, we need to talk.”
”Oh,” Castiel says simply. “What about?”
”Get in,” Dean says instead, stepping around Castiel to unlock the freshman’s door before he makes his way around to climb into the driver’s side. The Impala roars to life when Dean turns the ignition, and he has to force himself to turn the music down.
Castiel is watching him expectantly, but Dean doesn’t know how to voice the words that need to be spoken. It’s even worse when dark blue eyes are focused on him intently as Dean pulls out of the parking lot. “Dean…”
Gritting his teeth, Dean curls his fingers tightly around the steering wheel. “I did something bad, Cas.”
”How bad?” Castiel asks. He cocks his head to the side and furrows his brow again, but it does nothing to lessen the intensity of his gaze.
”Really bad,” Dean says, fighting back a bad laugh. “Like, bad enough that we really shouldn’t talk about it while I’m trying to drive over snow and ice.”
Castiel gets a deeply contemplative look on his face and makes a thoughtful sound. Dean would almost find it cute or funny, but Castiel has always seen Dean through rose colored glasses. He’s never been capable of faulting Dean or seeing the bad side of him.
It’s why Dean is such a terrible person. Castiel used to hero worship him. Now Dean’s going to break his heart.
”Did you get in another fight with Sam?” Castiel asks.
”No, but I imagine he’s going to yell at me when we get back,” Dean mutters. At Castiel’s blank stare, Dean clears his throat. “No, Cas, that ain’t it.”
”Your father? Your step mother? Adam?”
”There wasn’t any fighting involved,” Dean sighs. “There wasn’t really any talking involved. Listen, seriously, can we not talk about this right now?”
Castiel manages to bite his tongue for a few minutes, and he seems almost fixated by the rear lights of Michael’s shiny black car. It’s too dark to make out anyone inside beyond a blurry shadow, and for a while, Dean thinks Castiel has dropped the subject. “You didn’t punch anybody again, did you?”
Sighing heavily, Dean asks, ”are we really going to play the guessing game all the way back?”
”If you told me, I would not be forced to guess,” Castiel says casually. Instead of looking at Dean, he looks out his own window, and he brings a finger up to trace letters on the chilled glass.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean can see ‘D E A N’ written in Castiel’s impossibly perfect handwriting, with ‘C A S T I E L’ written neatly beneath it. It makes something clench inside of Dean tightly, and there’s a wave of nauseous guilt that floods through his system. “God, I love you, Cas,” Dean breaths. He curls his fingers around the steering wheel until his knuckles turn white. He has to force himself to pay attention to the road.
”I love you,” Castiel replies. His tone is so sure, so determined, but when he reaches out to touch Dean’s elbow, it’s hesitant. “Dean, what happened?”
”I cheated on you.” The words are out of Dean’s mouth before he can stop them and he’s actually kind of grateful. He’s spent the last three days trying to figure out how to say this, how to broach this subject. In the end, it’s probably for the best. He’s dodged along the topic for too long already.
”Oh,” Castiel says. He pulls his hand away from Dean, and folds it on his lap with his other hand, fingers curling and twisting together. He stares down at his hands, and even out of the corner of his eyes, Dean can see Castiel’s face is blank. “Did you - did you sleep with them?”
Dean has to fight the urge to hang his head in shame. “Yeah.”
”Who was it?”
”Jesus fucking Christ, Cas,” Dean says. He has to grit his teeth for a second to bite back the litany of curses on the tip of his tongue, but when they pass, he casts a glance over at Castiel. “I tell you I cheated on you and you want to know with who?”
”I think I at least have the right to know who you favor over me,” Castiel replies coldly. When he glances over at Dean, he’s glaring out of the corner of his eyes, fingers curled tightly into his own thighs. “Was it Lisa? Cassie? Kali? Meg or Becky or Risa?”
”No,” Dean says vehemently. “It wasn’t like that! Cas, you know I would never - “
”Apparently I don’t, Dean,” Castiel says darkly. “So who was it? When?”
”I was drunk!” Dean snaps. It takes all his concentration to keep the car on the road and this is exactly why he didn’t want to have this conversation before they made it back home. The driveway wasn’t necessarily private, but at least Dean didn’t run the risk of killing them both. “It was Crowley’s New Year’s Eve party and I was drunk and - and it seemed like a good idea at the time!”
Castiel is nearly trembling in rage. He glowers at Dean again before turning his attention back to his window. Almost absentmindedly, he brings up a hand to smear away both of their names. “Who?” he repeats, his voice low and dark.
Dean thinks he might be scared of Castiel right now, never mind that he’s fifteen and positively tiny. “Cas,” Dean says, pleading. “Believe when I say you don’t want to know. You really don’t want to know.”
”Please don’t make me beg, Dean,” Castiel breathes, his voice trembling.
Against his better judgment, Dean spares Castiel a look. Even through the darkened reflection, he can see the tears spilling down Castiel’s face while he tries to wipe them away casually. “Cas…”
”Dean.”
For a moment, Dean has no idea what to say or do. If he tells the truth, he’ll completely ruin Castiel’s and Gabriel’s relationship. He might not get along with Gabriel more often than not, but Castiel loves his brothers, all of his brothers, with a frightening dedication. Castiel loves his brothers as much as Dean loves Sam. If Dean doesn’t tell Castiel, though, then it’s only Dean who has to suffer. Castiel may well never trust him again, but it’s what Dean deserves. The problem is, Dean can’t lie to Castiel. He’s never been able to. “Don’t ask me that, Cas. Please, don’t ask me that.”
Castiel makes a choked sound and scrubs at his eyes furiously. “Gabriel?” he asks, his voice weak. He looks at Dean then, silently pleading for Dean to correct him, to tell him “no.”
Dean bites his lip, but doesn’t speak.
It’s answer enough.
They don’t talk for the rest of the ride home, but it’s far from silent. Beneath the rhythmic swoosh-swoosh of the windshield wipers brushing away drifting snow at regular intervals and the low hum of ‘Hotel California’ from the stereo, Castiel sniffles pathetically. Occasionally, he lets out a low whimper or whine, and Dean has to steel his jaw and force his attention onto the road. He is the absolute last person Castiel wants to comfort him right now.
When their houses are near, visible through the lazy blanket of snow, Dean opens his mouth to speak. At first, his voice cracks, and he has to swallow and lick his lips nervously. “Listen, Cas - “ The words die on his tongue. Dean has no idea what to say, besides “I’m sorry” and judging from Castiel’s snort, it means nothing.
The minute Dean pulls into the driveway, Castiel is unbuckled and out of the car, slamming his door behind him. By the time Dean slips it into park and kills the ignition, Castiel is gone.
Dean doesn’t bother to get out of the car. He curls in upon himself as much as he can manage, forehead resting against the steering wheel, clutching it until his knuckles are white once more. Against his will, a low moan escapes his lips, and he can feel tears prickle at the back of his eyes. All he can think is, ‘how can I be so stupid?