Fic: Don't Ever Look Back 3/9 (Supernatural; Dean/Castiel, HS AU, Explicit)
Title: Don't Ever Look Back
Author: misachan
Artist: slinkymilinky (Link to Art Master Post)
Word Count: 3150
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Anna, Sam, Uriel, Zachariah
Warnings: Violence (including violence between family members), drug use (nothing stronger than pot), underage drinking (nothing harder than beer), sex between an 18 and 17-year-old, sexuality angst
Summary: Another day, another town; when their bounty hunter father enrolls he and Sam in yet another school Dean thinks this will just be another town he'll forget five minutes after he leaves it. Things get more interesting when Sam befriends a classmate of Dean's and the lonely boy with the strange name and stranger family slowly gets under Dean's skin. Their new friendship gets complicated when it becomes clear that Castiel's brothers aren't just strange, they're dangerous, and the secrets they keep and the sins they bury have a lot to do with Dean. It would all be bad enough even without Dean starting to worry that maybe friendship isn't all he wants.
A Dean/Castiel high school love story with fist fights, movie nights, make outs, broken hearts, hospital vigils and a steamed up hotel shower.
So Dean wasn't sure how it had come about, but it seemed like Cas and the history teacher had come to some kind of an accord: he agreed to stop embarrassing her by pointing out her...questionable historical knowledge in front of the class, and she would quietly mark him as in when he decided to cut. Dean didn't know when he'd been grandfathered into this arrangement, but whenever he cut too she just pretended not to notice the two empty seats. Dean wished all of his teachers could be so accommodating.
Usually they spent the free period behind the school, sometimes with Cas doing Dean's homework and sometimes with the two of them smoking, sharing a joint they passed back and forth. It really wasn't enough to get either of them anywhere but Dean had to admit, it made dealing with the next period's geometry ordeal a thousand times easier.
"How did you manage to get the formulas right but put them on the wrong problems?" Cas marveled, erasing Dean's half-hearted attempt and correcting it.
"It's a special talent I have," Dean said. The only use he had for geometry was to help him win at pool, and he didn't need to know how many digits were in pi for that. "How do you know this stuff?"
"I pay more attention to what the teacher's saying than to her hemline," Cas countered, his lips curling up.
"Hey, that's not my fault. A math teacher has no right being that hot." He glanced at his watch and jumped up. "Shit, Cas, we got, like, five minutes."
Castiel gathered up his books and notes, stuffing them into his backpack. Dean saw something drift down from one book and bent down to pick it up. "Hey, Cas, you dropped this."
Cas rushed forward when he saw what was in Dean's hand; at a glance Dean had been able to tell it was a photograph, and from the way Castiel reacted a pretty important one. "Thank you," he breathed, sinking back down against the wall. "It would be horrible to lose this."
Dean sat down beside him. It wasn't like he wasn't failing geometry anyway. "Can I take a look?" he said; when Cas nodded he took the picture like it was delicate parchment, making sure Cas could see how careful he was being.
Now that he could take a good look Dean could see it was a group shot, one a few years old; he guessed that Cas was maybe twelve in the picture. Dean could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Castiel smile the way he was in that snapshot. "So, this is the bunch of you, huh?"
Castiel nodded. "This is the last picture we took with all of us together," he said, a wistful edge to his voice.
There were seven in the picture all together, a subtle but clear divide between the older brothers and the younger kids; Dean made out Uriel right away, standing behind Castiel and already bigger and more hulking than a thirteen-year-old had any right to be, that mocking smile Dean saw every day in the hallways firmly in place. Leaning against Castiel with one arm on his shoulder was an older boy in an ROTC uniform, one Dean guessed was around the age Cas was now. He had a smirking kind of smile with sharp features and deepset eyes. "Who's this guy? I don't recognize him."
Castiel eyes brightened. "That's my brother Balthazar."
"Yeah? He doesn't seem that bad, why isn't he around?"
Cas' expression faltered. "He died," Castiel whispered, sounding as distraught as if it had happened the day before. "In the war."
"Shit. Cas, I'm sorry."
Castiel shook his head. "It's all right." He touched the picture, tracing it gently. "I miss him a great deal."
Dean examined the older brothers. Standing all the way on the left was a blond man dressed in an army uniform with captain's stripes Dean immediately guessed had to be Michael; even though he was standing with the rest he still seemed apart as he stared into the camera at full military attention, a prideful look in his blue eyes. Next to him was a shorter man, dark-skinned like Uriel but slimmer, eyes cold like black pits. Dean knew that was Raphael; Castiel had told him once Raphael was in charge of "discipline." He'd come to the school once when Cas' weed turned up in a random locker check. Dean had thrown himself on that grenade and claimed the pot as his the second he'd seen the panic on Castiel's face (it wasn't as if Dean cared about his permanent record) and after the principal wore himself out yelling at Dean Cas had still been so scared he'd thrown up. Uriel had actually managed to be decent to Dean for two whole days after that instead of treating him like some annoying bug his brother insisted on wasting time on.
There was Zachariah, standing next to Michael and smarmy as ever; seated in front on the ground like he was making a point of standing out was a young blond man with close-set eyes and lips curled up in a smirk Dean had a feeling was permanent. "Who's this guy?" Dean asked, tapping the picture. "I don't recognize him."
Castiel's mouth twisted into a scowl. "Gabriel."
God, the names on these people. "Sounds like you two are close."
Cas shook his head. "He left shortly after this was taken. No one knows what's become of him."
"I'm guessing you two weren't all that tight before that anyway."
He just sighed. "Gabriel could be...difficult," he said. "I never cared for his humor."
"Dude, you think Uriel's hilarious, I'm not trusting your judgment on anyone's sense of humor."
"Uriel is funny," he insisted. "Gabriel only cared if he was laughing, not anyone else."
"Yeah, still not seeing the big difference there." Cas glared at him and Dean decided to let things drop. The right side of the picture was torn; Dean could just make out a slim, pale arm threaded through Cas' and didn't need three guesses at who this was. "Dude, you were seriously pissed at your sis, huh?"
Castiel nodded, tracing one finger down the torn edge. "I did that to all the pictures of her I could find," he admitted. "I regret that now."
Dean knew his own family experience was pretty skewed, but he was pretty sure a simple family picture shouldn't be enough to make someone look as sad as Cas did now. "Hey," Dean said, tapping Castiel on the shoulder to snap him out of it. "What do you say we skip the rest of the day, huh? I know the chick who works the ticket booth at the movie theater, she can get us in for free."
Cas nodded again, sliding the picture back into his notebook. "I think I like that idea."
***
Dean passed three hours after school watching the cheerleaders practice and came away with two cell numbers and an invitation to meet back up with the head of the squad at a private party at her house later that night, time well spent as far as he was concerned. He whistled as he cut through the hallway to get back to the car, pulling up short when he spotted Castiel alone in the computer lab, his face a mask of concentration. "Cas, you know school's over, right?"
"Hello, Dean," he said, not even looking up. "I'm engaged in a flame war."
"You're...." Dean trailed off. "O-kay." He walked in, unable to resist whatever this was, and leaned against the wall as he watched Castiel type. "So, who's wrong on the internet?" he said, hearing the instant message alarm ping.
Castiel shook his head. "I've never encountered someone with a more wrong-headed view of the Apocrapha."
Dean knew that being able to interpret that meant he and Cas hung out way too much. "Dude," he said, rubbing his forehead, "please tell me you're not sitting here after school having a flame war about the Bible."
The IM alert pinged again. "No, that just started over the instant messaging. And I believe I'm being trolled anyway, because no one who types like this could possibly have the literacy necessary to even have these ridiculous opinions."
"Not everyone grammar checks their IMs they way you do, Cas - wait, so who's the flame war with?"
"That's on the forum. I'm trying to point out how the Vatican II reforms need to be taken in historical context."
"You're...." Okay, Dean had to put a stop to this. "C'mon, get up," Dean said, hauling Cas up by his collar.
"Dean, leave me alone, I'm busy."
"No way, I'm de-nerdifying you." He pulled Castiel out of the chair and started dragging him away. "I'm doing this as a friend, Cas."
"What? No, Dean, let me go, I didn't hit post. Dean, I swear, five minutes...."
Castiel kept arguing right up until Dean parked him in the passenger seat. "I was winning," he sulked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It actually scares me how invested you are in this." He reached under the seat and tossed a handful of cassettes into Castiel's lap. "Here, just this once I'll let you pick the music. What's it gonna be, Led Zep, Dylan, Metallica, pick your poison."
"I...." he said, picking through the tapes. "I don't really...."
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. "Tell me your stupid family doesn't just let you listen to classical crap."
Cas wilted. "I liked the chord progression of the song that was playing last time."
"Zepplin it is," Dean said, snatching one of the tapes and putting into the player. "At least you've got taste." He swung by the Redbox as Robert Plant really got into a good wail and picked out a stack of movies, then made one more stop for snacks and a couple six packs of beer.
Castiel raised one eyebrow at him as he slid back behind the steering wheel. "How are you always able to just walk in and buy alcohol?"
"Cas, God gave me a winning smile and a fake ID," he said, pulling out of the lot. By the time Dean backed the car into its usual spot in front of the motel he thought Cas had almost completely forgiven him. "Okay, Sam's off at a buddy's doing some science thing so we've got the place to ourselves 'till later, and he's getting dropped off so I don't have to waste half my night chauffeuring him around for once." Castiel sat on the floor in front of the sofa and Dean threw him a beer.
"What exactly are we doing, again?" Castiel asked, cracking open the beer and helping himself to the chips Dean opened up.
"We're gonna watch Jason Statham punch dudes in the face until we badass the geek out of you, Cas." He looked over the movie selection. "Might be some Vin Diesel in here too." He dropped the bag of movies into Cas' lap. "Here, you can pick the first one," he said, stretching out on the couch.
Castiel shrugged and picked one seemingly at random, pushing it into the player and settling back against the couch. After about twenty minutes Dean could almost hear his brow furrow. "Have we seen this before?"
"Don't think so," Dean said, looking at the case. "Wait, no, we saw the sequel."
"I...How many times can someone's heart almost explode?"
Dean grinned. "Two so far, at least until they make the sequel." He grabbed the bag of chips from Cas and opened up a second beer. "Don't think about it too hard, Cas. Just enjoy the explosions."
And he did, for a solid two movies and a half. "Wait, we have seen this one, right?"
Dean let out a pfff sound. "C'mon, Cas, this is a totally different franchise."
Castiel had the loudest frown of anyone Dean had ever met. "So...does this actor just keep making the same movie?"
Dean just scoffed again. "Man, you're such a snob. And he does not."
Halfway through the next one Castiel nodded. "You're right, Dean. He makes two, one where he drives things and one where he's an English gangster."
Obviously the only response to that was for Dean to throw the empty popcorn bag at his head. Cas dodged it, grinning back and Dean cracked open his last beer. He'd say he wished he'd grabbed more, but if he was out that was his own fault; Cas was only on his third. Maybe he'd share if Dean asked nicely.
Sam came in just as the credits started to roll, shaking water off his jacket. "Hey, Sam," Dean said. "It's raining?"
"Just started. Hey, Cas," he said, waving.
"Hello, Sam," was all Castiel replied, squinting at the screen as if deciphering the action required all his concentration. "I can't state how many laws of physics this sequence is breaking."
"How's the project going?"
Sam shrugged. "Better if me and Trevor weren't the only ones in the group doing any work. We're meeting up tomorrow again to finish things up."
"This is why you should get someone to do your homework for you like I did."
Sam just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're a great role model there."
Dean let that slide. "Hey, Sam, tell Cas that Jason Statham makes more than one movie."
"Sure he does. There's the one where he drives stuff and the one where he's English gangster guy."
Dean didn't miss the little sideways look of victory Cas gave Sam. "Great," Dean said with an exaggerated, tragic sigh. "Now I'm being double teamed."
"Hey, Dean," Sam said after grabbing a towel from the bathroom to dry off his hair. "Were you...um, supposed to hang out with Trevor's sister tonight or something? She kept checking her phone and asking about you, and she um, was kinda dressed like you two were hanging out."
Dean frowned, running through his mental rolodex to see if he could remember if any of the girls he knew had brothers Sam's age. "Don't know. What's her name?"
"Amanda. Mandy."
Dean shook his head. "Nah, that doesn't help," he said, although he was starting to get a bad feeling. "She a cheerleader?"
"Yep. Head of the squad, actually."
Dean winced. So that's what all those texts he'd put off checking had been about. "Then yeah, technically. Got distracted."
Sam just shook his head at him again. "Yeah, well, she is really pissed. You'd better make it up to her on Monday or she's gonna have the whole squad in revenge mode, and I gotta go to that school too."
"Yeah, I'll deal with it. Nothing I haven't had to do before." He passed the next movie to Cas. "You wanna join in for the next one? There's room on the couch."
"Dean, it's like midnight."
"It is?"
"Yeah," Sam said, giving him a seriously, where have you been? look. "It's seriously late."
"But, I mean, it's Friday, who cares?"
"I gotta get up early, I told you. And I've seen this one."
"Yes?" Cas said. "Which of the two is it?"
"English gangster."
Castiel grinned. "Good. I prefer those."
Dean stole one of his beers. "Philistine."
"I fail to see how my movie preferences have anything to do with a Canaanite Iron Age culture."
"You tell him, Cas," Sam said, yawning. "You crashing again?"
Castiel nodded. "If I may."
"You can always crash here, you know that." Dean studied Castiel as the movie started and Sam wandered off to bed, worry curdling in his stomach. He really hadn't realized how late it was, but what had his attention now was how the entire time they'd been hanging out Castiel's phone hadn't rung once. "So, when should I expect your idiot brother to come around looking for you?"
Cas scowled. "You shouldn't. I'm not."
Dean drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch. Castiel had never invited him to hang back at his place, not even for appearances sake (not that Dean could really blame him, considering the sheer density of jerks who lived there.) Cas was crashing with him and Sam more often than not lately, five times in the past week, and even the nights he did go home he was over late. And those nights were hard, Dean up late wondering if Cas got home okay, wondering that and trying not to think about how outright scared Cas had been when Raphael had shown up at school that day or him going to attention with his eyes on the ground when Zachariah got in his face. Dean had never spotted any bruises on him (and Dean didn't know what he'd do if he ever did, his chest went weird and tight just thinking about it) but he knew that didn't always mean anything. Dean liked to gloss over the rough patches in his life, but there'd been enough of them for him to recognize the look of someone who didn't want to go home. "Cas. Is everything okay?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"Haven't seen Uriel around much lately, at school or otherwise. Used to be the two of you were joined at the hip. A month or so ago he would've been around bitching about me keeping you out late."
Cas scowled. "Uriel has been busy with his own concerns. He's made it very clear they don't involve me."
"That my fault?" Dean asked. "He's never been much of a fan of mine."
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"So you don't have to check in?"
Dean hadn't thought it was possible, but Castiel's scowl deepened. "My elder brothers don't concern themselves with my comings and goings."
"That dick Zachariah seemed pretty concerned."
"I haven't given them any reason to suspect me. If I'm not making trouble they don't take notice of me."
Dean tried to imagine what he would do if Sam ever decided to not come home for days on end. "That sucks, Cas."
Castiel turned to look at him, seeming to be confused that Dean was bothered. "It's not anything new."
Dean settled back against the couch. "Still sucks," he muttered. He turned his attention back to the movie and focused on figuring out who was shotgunning who.
"Dean?" Cas said after a few minutes.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really break a date to hang out with me tonight?"
"Yeah, seems like."
Cas was quiet for a few moments. "Thank you."
Dean shrugged that off, suddenly uncomfortable. "No big deal. Probably had a better time here anyway."
"Thank you anyway."
"You're welcome, buddy. Watch the movie."
***
Dean woke to the DVD menu screen playing on repeat; the clock on the player read 3:05 and Dean rolled over, his neck stiff from sleeping against the arm of the couch. Castiel was asleep too, curled up on the floor, and Dean gave his shoulder a quick shake. "Hey, Cas," he said, shaking him again when he didn't wake up right away. "Cas, you can't stay there all night." Cas nodded and muttered something Dean was pretty sure was supposed to be "Okay, I'll get up," but mostly came out as "mrmhmm." When he still didn't move, Dean dragged him to the couch by one arm. "See? Better, right?"
Cas nodded again but instead of waking up he sort of flopped over against Dean as he curled up again. "Dude," Dean said. "C'mon. Get up and go to bed."
"Good here," he said, outright using Dean as a pillow now. Dean shook his head and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, trying to drag him up to his feet. Dean's plan was to get Cas more or less vertical, drag him back to the bedroom, drop him on his mattress then pass out again himself.
Dean lost his grip and Cas settled against him again like he'd lost all his bones. "C'mon, Cas," Dean sighed, prodding him again.
The plan was to get them both to bed. It just wasn't what happened.
Castiel finally managed to get himself to somewhere around half-awake and pushed himself off of Dean. Dean thought that maybe it was the way he blushed when he realized that he was on top of Dean. Whatever it was, something made Dean lean up and kiss him then, made him curl one hand around the back of his head and pull him back down. Dean heard Castiel murmur "Dean?" against his lips, awake now and sounding surprised but not pulling back.
"This okay?" Dean whispered back, his fingers trailing through Cas' hair. Instead of answering Castiel just kissed him back, a rough, messy kiss, Cas pressing against him and Dean had never realized until that moment how much he'd wanted that. Dean knew full well Cas had never kissed anyone before and it showed but that just made it even hotter. They shifted around on the couch until Cas wound up under him, his head thrown back as Dean kissed down his neck. This was why it had never worked all those times Dean had pushed Cas at girls; the girls were interested but Cas never looked at girls, not like that. He only looked at Dean like that.
Dean slipped his hands under Cas' shirt and Cas moaned, those blue eyes of his so wide Dean couldn't stop looking at them. Dean had never met a girl who had eyes like Castiel's. Dean had tried so hard not to think about it, not to think about Cas when he met a girl with blue eyes and not to think about Cas' full lips when he kissed someone else. He could kiss those lips as much as he wanted now, though, and he took every advantage, kissing Cas until they were both breathless with it. "Dean," Cas murmured in that whiskey soaked voice of his, the one that made him sound so much older. Dean loved the way Cas said his name. He realized in that second he always had, maybe even from that first day. Cas pressed up against him again, whimpering now, clutching hard onto Dean. Dean realized he'd never wanted anything the way he wanted to make Cas come then, to feel him arch under him as those eyes got even wider.
Cas let out a soft, shuddery moan that told Dean he was already so close, his fingers digging into Dean's arm. "Dean," he whispered again and Dean couldn't help moaning at the need he heard there. "Dean."
Dean startled awake to a quiet room, the DVD menu playing in a loop on the TV. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he lay there on the couch, What the hell was that? the only thought in his head. He looked around and saw Cas curled up asleep just the way he had been in the dream, but this time instead of waking him up Dean crept off the couch and stumbled backward toward the shower. He turned up the hot water as high as it could go to try to scald the dream away. Every time he thought about the way Cas' eyes had looked in the dream or the way his voice had rasped on Dean's name he felt himself start to get hard again and he strangled those thoughts down. Dean Winchester didn't have thoughts like that. And he sure as hell didn't have those kind of thoughts about friends of his, Jesus Christ.
By the time he felt like it was safe again the hot water had long since run out. He turned off the tap and dried himself off before venturing back outside to his relief fining Castiel still fast asleep. Dean shook him awake, making sure to be rougher than he had in the dream. "Cas. C'mon, get up. You can't sleep down there."
Castiel's bleary eyes blinked open and for one terrifying second Dean thought he'd be able to look into Dean's head and know what he'd been dreaming about. The instant passed though, and Dean didn't see anything on Castiel's face aside from ordinary, sleepy confusion. "Dean? Is it morning already?"
"Nah," Dean said, hoping he sounded smoother than he felt. "Still middle of the night, but you're gonna get one hell of a crick in your neck if you sleep there all night."
Cas' brow furrowed. "But then why did you shower?"
Sheer panic shut down Dean's brain for a second. "Spilled some beer on myself. Felt sticky," he said, and was that ever the wrong thing to blurt out.
Fortunately, though, Cas was Cas and didn't seem to think anything of it. "Should we go to bed, then?"
"No!" Dean felt guilty as hell, but he couldn't deal with Cas sleeping so close. Not tonight. "No, dude, crash on the couch. It's gotta be more comfortable than that crappy air mattress, anyway."
"But I thought you said you'd get in trouble?"
"The manager's away for the weekend," Dean said, which at least was true. "It's cool this once."
Castiel just shrugged and stretched out on the couch, clearly too tired to question it. "'Kay. 'Night, Dean."
"Yeah. Yeah, 'night, Cas."
Dean didn't get any sleep that night.
That Monday at school Dean tracked down Mandy the head cheerleader even before first bell rang; it only took a few well-chosen, apologetic words to get her to drag him into the AV club supply closet and man, Dean really did love those little cheerleader skirts.
And if he had to close his eyes when he realized hers were blue, he refused to think about it.
-On to Part 4-
-Back to Masterpost-
-Back to Part 2
Author: misachan
Artist: slinkymilinky (Link to Art Master Post)
Word Count: 3150
Characters/Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Anna, Sam, Uriel, Zachariah
Warnings: Violence (including violence between family members), drug use (nothing stronger than pot), underage drinking (nothing harder than beer), sex between an 18 and 17-year-old, sexuality angst
Summary: Another day, another town; when their bounty hunter father enrolls he and Sam in yet another school Dean thinks this will just be another town he'll forget five minutes after he leaves it. Things get more interesting when Sam befriends a classmate of Dean's and the lonely boy with the strange name and stranger family slowly gets under Dean's skin. Their new friendship gets complicated when it becomes clear that Castiel's brothers aren't just strange, they're dangerous, and the secrets they keep and the sins they bury have a lot to do with Dean. It would all be bad enough even without Dean starting to worry that maybe friendship isn't all he wants.
A Dean/Castiel high school love story with fist fights, movie nights, make outs, broken hearts, hospital vigils and a steamed up hotel shower.
So Dean wasn't sure how it had come about, but it seemed like Cas and the history teacher had come to some kind of an accord: he agreed to stop embarrassing her by pointing out her...questionable historical knowledge in front of the class, and she would quietly mark him as in when he decided to cut. Dean didn't know when he'd been grandfathered into this arrangement, but whenever he cut too she just pretended not to notice the two empty seats. Dean wished all of his teachers could be so accommodating.
Usually they spent the free period behind the school, sometimes with Cas doing Dean's homework and sometimes with the two of them smoking, sharing a joint they passed back and forth. It really wasn't enough to get either of them anywhere but Dean had to admit, it made dealing with the next period's geometry ordeal a thousand times easier.
"How did you manage to get the formulas right but put them on the wrong problems?" Cas marveled, erasing Dean's half-hearted attempt and correcting it.
"It's a special talent I have," Dean said. The only use he had for geometry was to help him win at pool, and he didn't need to know how many digits were in pi for that. "How do you know this stuff?"
"I pay more attention to what the teacher's saying than to her hemline," Cas countered, his lips curling up.
"Hey, that's not my fault. A math teacher has no right being that hot." He glanced at his watch and jumped up. "Shit, Cas, we got, like, five minutes."
Castiel gathered up his books and notes, stuffing them into his backpack. Dean saw something drift down from one book and bent down to pick it up. "Hey, Cas, you dropped this."
Cas rushed forward when he saw what was in Dean's hand; at a glance Dean had been able to tell it was a photograph, and from the way Castiel reacted a pretty important one. "Thank you," he breathed, sinking back down against the wall. "It would be horrible to lose this."
Dean sat down beside him. It wasn't like he wasn't failing geometry anyway. "Can I take a look?" he said; when Cas nodded he took the picture like it was delicate parchment, making sure Cas could see how careful he was being.
Now that he could take a good look Dean could see it was a group shot, one a few years old; he guessed that Cas was maybe twelve in the picture. Dean could count on one hand the number of times he'd seen Castiel smile the way he was in that snapshot. "So, this is the bunch of you, huh?"
Castiel nodded. "This is the last picture we took with all of us together," he said, a wistful edge to his voice.
There were seven in the picture all together, a subtle but clear divide between the older brothers and the younger kids; Dean made out Uriel right away, standing behind Castiel and already bigger and more hulking than a thirteen-year-old had any right to be, that mocking smile Dean saw every day in the hallways firmly in place. Leaning against Castiel with one arm on his shoulder was an older boy in an ROTC uniform, one Dean guessed was around the age Cas was now. He had a smirking kind of smile with sharp features and deepset eyes. "Who's this guy? I don't recognize him."
Castiel eyes brightened. "That's my brother Balthazar."
"Yeah? He doesn't seem that bad, why isn't he around?"
Cas' expression faltered. "He died," Castiel whispered, sounding as distraught as if it had happened the day before. "In the war."
"Shit. Cas, I'm sorry."
Castiel shook his head. "It's all right." He touched the picture, tracing it gently. "I miss him a great deal."
Dean examined the older brothers. Standing all the way on the left was a blond man dressed in an army uniform with captain's stripes Dean immediately guessed had to be Michael; even though he was standing with the rest he still seemed apart as he stared into the camera at full military attention, a prideful look in his blue eyes. Next to him was a shorter man, dark-skinned like Uriel but slimmer, eyes cold like black pits. Dean knew that was Raphael; Castiel had told him once Raphael was in charge of "discipline." He'd come to the school once when Cas' weed turned up in a random locker check. Dean had thrown himself on that grenade and claimed the pot as his the second he'd seen the panic on Castiel's face (it wasn't as if Dean cared about his permanent record) and after the principal wore himself out yelling at Dean Cas had still been so scared he'd thrown up. Uriel had actually managed to be decent to Dean for two whole days after that instead of treating him like some annoying bug his brother insisted on wasting time on.
There was Zachariah, standing next to Michael and smarmy as ever; seated in front on the ground like he was making a point of standing out was a young blond man with close-set eyes and lips curled up in a smirk Dean had a feeling was permanent. "Who's this guy?" Dean asked, tapping the picture. "I don't recognize him."
Castiel's mouth twisted into a scowl. "Gabriel."
God, the names on these people. "Sounds like you two are close."
Cas shook his head. "He left shortly after this was taken. No one knows what's become of him."
"I'm guessing you two weren't all that tight before that anyway."
He just sighed. "Gabriel could be...difficult," he said. "I never cared for his humor."
"Dude, you think Uriel's hilarious, I'm not trusting your judgment on anyone's sense of humor."
"Uriel is funny," he insisted. "Gabriel only cared if he was laughing, not anyone else."
"Yeah, still not seeing the big difference there." Cas glared at him and Dean decided to let things drop. The right side of the picture was torn; Dean could just make out a slim, pale arm threaded through Cas' and didn't need three guesses at who this was. "Dude, you were seriously pissed at your sis, huh?"
Castiel nodded, tracing one finger down the torn edge. "I did that to all the pictures of her I could find," he admitted. "I regret that now."
Dean knew his own family experience was pretty skewed, but he was pretty sure a simple family picture shouldn't be enough to make someone look as sad as Cas did now. "Hey," Dean said, tapping Castiel on the shoulder to snap him out of it. "What do you say we skip the rest of the day, huh? I know the chick who works the ticket booth at the movie theater, she can get us in for free."
Cas nodded again, sliding the picture back into his notebook. "I think I like that idea."
***
Dean passed three hours after school watching the cheerleaders practice and came away with two cell numbers and an invitation to meet back up with the head of the squad at a private party at her house later that night, time well spent as far as he was concerned. He whistled as he cut through the hallway to get back to the car, pulling up short when he spotted Castiel alone in the computer lab, his face a mask of concentration. "Cas, you know school's over, right?"
"Hello, Dean," he said, not even looking up. "I'm engaged in a flame war."
"You're...." Dean trailed off. "O-kay." He walked in, unable to resist whatever this was, and leaned against the wall as he watched Castiel type. "So, who's wrong on the internet?" he said, hearing the instant message alarm ping.
Castiel shook his head. "I've never encountered someone with a more wrong-headed view of the Apocrapha."
Dean knew that being able to interpret that meant he and Cas hung out way too much. "Dude," he said, rubbing his forehead, "please tell me you're not sitting here after school having a flame war about the Bible."
The IM alert pinged again. "No, that just started over the instant messaging. And I believe I'm being trolled anyway, because no one who types like this could possibly have the literacy necessary to even have these ridiculous opinions."
"Not everyone grammar checks their IMs they way you do, Cas - wait, so who's the flame war with?"
"That's on the forum. I'm trying to point out how the Vatican II reforms need to be taken in historical context."
"You're...." Okay, Dean had to put a stop to this. "C'mon, get up," Dean said, hauling Cas up by his collar.
"Dean, leave me alone, I'm busy."
"No way, I'm de-nerdifying you." He pulled Castiel out of the chair and started dragging him away. "I'm doing this as a friend, Cas."
"What? No, Dean, let me go, I didn't hit post. Dean, I swear, five minutes...."
Castiel kept arguing right up until Dean parked him in the passenger seat. "I was winning," he sulked, crossing his arms over his chest.
"It actually scares me how invested you are in this." He reached under the seat and tossed a handful of cassettes into Castiel's lap. "Here, just this once I'll let you pick the music. What's it gonna be, Led Zep, Dylan, Metallica, pick your poison."
"I...." he said, picking through the tapes. "I don't really...."
Dean squeezed his eyes shut. "Tell me your stupid family doesn't just let you listen to classical crap."
Cas wilted. "I liked the chord progression of the song that was playing last time."
"Zepplin it is," Dean said, snatching one of the tapes and putting into the player. "At least you've got taste." He swung by the Redbox as Robert Plant really got into a good wail and picked out a stack of movies, then made one more stop for snacks and a couple six packs of beer.
Castiel raised one eyebrow at him as he slid back behind the steering wheel. "How are you always able to just walk in and buy alcohol?"
"Cas, God gave me a winning smile and a fake ID," he said, pulling out of the lot. By the time Dean backed the car into its usual spot in front of the motel he thought Cas had almost completely forgiven him. "Okay, Sam's off at a buddy's doing some science thing so we've got the place to ourselves 'till later, and he's getting dropped off so I don't have to waste half my night chauffeuring him around for once." Castiel sat on the floor in front of the sofa and Dean threw him a beer.
"What exactly are we doing, again?" Castiel asked, cracking open the beer and helping himself to the chips Dean opened up.
"We're gonna watch Jason Statham punch dudes in the face until we badass the geek out of you, Cas." He looked over the movie selection. "Might be some Vin Diesel in here too." He dropped the bag of movies into Cas' lap. "Here, you can pick the first one," he said, stretching out on the couch.
Castiel shrugged and picked one seemingly at random, pushing it into the player and settling back against the couch. After about twenty minutes Dean could almost hear his brow furrow. "Have we seen this before?"
"Don't think so," Dean said, looking at the case. "Wait, no, we saw the sequel."
"I...How many times can someone's heart almost explode?"
Dean grinned. "Two so far, at least until they make the sequel." He grabbed the bag of chips from Cas and opened up a second beer. "Don't think about it too hard, Cas. Just enjoy the explosions."
And he did, for a solid two movies and a half. "Wait, we have seen this one, right?"
Dean let out a pfff sound. "C'mon, Cas, this is a totally different franchise."
Castiel had the loudest frown of anyone Dean had ever met. "So...does this actor just keep making the same movie?"
Dean just scoffed again. "Man, you're such a snob. And he does not."
Halfway through the next one Castiel nodded. "You're right, Dean. He makes two, one where he drives things and one where he's an English gangster."
Obviously the only response to that was for Dean to throw the empty popcorn bag at his head. Cas dodged it, grinning back and Dean cracked open his last beer. He'd say he wished he'd grabbed more, but if he was out that was his own fault; Cas was only on his third. Maybe he'd share if Dean asked nicely.
Sam came in just as the credits started to roll, shaking water off his jacket. "Hey, Sam," Dean said. "It's raining?"
"Just started. Hey, Cas," he said, waving.
"Hello, Sam," was all Castiel replied, squinting at the screen as if deciphering the action required all his concentration. "I can't state how many laws of physics this sequence is breaking."
"How's the project going?"
Sam shrugged. "Better if me and Trevor weren't the only ones in the group doing any work. We're meeting up tomorrow again to finish things up."
"This is why you should get someone to do your homework for you like I did."
Sam just rolled his eyes. "Yeah, you're a great role model there."
Dean let that slide. "Hey, Sam, tell Cas that Jason Statham makes more than one movie."
"Sure he does. There's the one where he drives stuff and the one where he's English gangster guy."
Dean didn't miss the little sideways look of victory Cas gave Sam. "Great," Dean said with an exaggerated, tragic sigh. "Now I'm being double teamed."
"Hey, Dean," Sam said after grabbing a towel from the bathroom to dry off his hair. "Were you...um, supposed to hang out with Trevor's sister tonight or something? She kept checking her phone and asking about you, and she um, was kinda dressed like you two were hanging out."
Dean frowned, running through his mental rolodex to see if he could remember if any of the girls he knew had brothers Sam's age. "Don't know. What's her name?"
"Amanda. Mandy."
Dean shook his head. "Nah, that doesn't help," he said, although he was starting to get a bad feeling. "She a cheerleader?"
"Yep. Head of the squad, actually."
Dean winced. So that's what all those texts he'd put off checking had been about. "Then yeah, technically. Got distracted."
Sam just shook his head at him again. "Yeah, well, she is really pissed. You'd better make it up to her on Monday or she's gonna have the whole squad in revenge mode, and I gotta go to that school too."
"Yeah, I'll deal with it. Nothing I haven't had to do before." He passed the next movie to Cas. "You wanna join in for the next one? There's room on the couch."
"Dean, it's like midnight."
"It is?"
"Yeah," Sam said, giving him a seriously, where have you been? look. "It's seriously late."
"But, I mean, it's Friday, who cares?"
"I gotta get up early, I told you. And I've seen this one."
"Yes?" Cas said. "Which of the two is it?"
"English gangster."
Castiel grinned. "Good. I prefer those."
Dean stole one of his beers. "Philistine."
"I fail to see how my movie preferences have anything to do with a Canaanite Iron Age culture."
"You tell him, Cas," Sam said, yawning. "You crashing again?"
Castiel nodded. "If I may."
"You can always crash here, you know that." Dean studied Castiel as the movie started and Sam wandered off to bed, worry curdling in his stomach. He really hadn't realized how late it was, but what had his attention now was how the entire time they'd been hanging out Castiel's phone hadn't rung once. "So, when should I expect your idiot brother to come around looking for you?"
Cas scowled. "You shouldn't. I'm not."
Dean drummed his fingers against the arm of the couch. Castiel had never invited him to hang back at his place, not even for appearances sake (not that Dean could really blame him, considering the sheer density of jerks who lived there.) Cas was crashing with him and Sam more often than not lately, five times in the past week, and even the nights he did go home he was over late. And those nights were hard, Dean up late wondering if Cas got home okay, wondering that and trying not to think about how outright scared Cas had been when Raphael had shown up at school that day or him going to attention with his eyes on the ground when Zachariah got in his face. Dean had never spotted any bruises on him (and Dean didn't know what he'd do if he ever did, his chest went weird and tight just thinking about it) but he knew that didn't always mean anything. Dean liked to gloss over the rough patches in his life, but there'd been enough of them for him to recognize the look of someone who didn't want to go home. "Cas. Is everything okay?"
"Of course. Why do you ask?"
"Haven't seen Uriel around much lately, at school or otherwise. Used to be the two of you were joined at the hip. A month or so ago he would've been around bitching about me keeping you out late."
Cas scowled. "Uriel has been busy with his own concerns. He's made it very clear they don't involve me."
"That my fault?" Dean asked. "He's never been much of a fan of mine."
"I don't know. I don't think so."
"So you don't have to check in?"
Dean hadn't thought it was possible, but Castiel's scowl deepened. "My elder brothers don't concern themselves with my comings and goings."
"That dick Zachariah seemed pretty concerned."
"I haven't given them any reason to suspect me. If I'm not making trouble they don't take notice of me."
Dean tried to imagine what he would do if Sam ever decided to not come home for days on end. "That sucks, Cas."
Castiel turned to look at him, seeming to be confused that Dean was bothered. "It's not anything new."
Dean settled back against the couch. "Still sucks," he muttered. He turned his attention back to the movie and focused on figuring out who was shotgunning who.
"Dean?" Cas said after a few minutes.
"Yeah?"
"Did you really break a date to hang out with me tonight?"
"Yeah, seems like."
Cas was quiet for a few moments. "Thank you."
Dean shrugged that off, suddenly uncomfortable. "No big deal. Probably had a better time here anyway."
"Thank you anyway."
"You're welcome, buddy. Watch the movie."
***
Dean woke to the DVD menu screen playing on repeat; the clock on the player read 3:05 and Dean rolled over, his neck stiff from sleeping against the arm of the couch. Castiel was asleep too, curled up on the floor, and Dean gave his shoulder a quick shake. "Hey, Cas," he said, shaking him again when he didn't wake up right away. "Cas, you can't stay there all night." Cas nodded and muttered something Dean was pretty sure was supposed to be "Okay, I'll get up," but mostly came out as "mrmhmm." When he still didn't move, Dean dragged him to the couch by one arm. "See? Better, right?"
Cas nodded again but instead of waking up he sort of flopped over against Dean as he curled up again. "Dude," Dean said. "C'mon. Get up and go to bed."
"Good here," he said, outright using Dean as a pillow now. Dean shook his head and wrapped one arm around his shoulders, trying to drag him up to his feet. Dean's plan was to get Cas more or less vertical, drag him back to the bedroom, drop him on his mattress then pass out again himself.
Dean lost his grip and Cas settled against him again like he'd lost all his bones. "C'mon, Cas," Dean sighed, prodding him again.
The plan was to get them both to bed. It just wasn't what happened.
Castiel finally managed to get himself to somewhere around half-awake and pushed himself off of Dean. Dean thought that maybe it was the way he blushed when he realized that he was on top of Dean. Whatever it was, something made Dean lean up and kiss him then, made him curl one hand around the back of his head and pull him back down. Dean heard Castiel murmur "Dean?" against his lips, awake now and sounding surprised but not pulling back.
"This okay?" Dean whispered back, his fingers trailing through Cas' hair. Instead of answering Castiel just kissed him back, a rough, messy kiss, Cas pressing against him and Dean had never realized until that moment how much he'd wanted that. Dean knew full well Cas had never kissed anyone before and it showed but that just made it even hotter. They shifted around on the couch until Cas wound up under him, his head thrown back as Dean kissed down his neck. This was why it had never worked all those times Dean had pushed Cas at girls; the girls were interested but Cas never looked at girls, not like that. He only looked at Dean like that.
Dean slipped his hands under Cas' shirt and Cas moaned, those blue eyes of his so wide Dean couldn't stop looking at them. Dean had never met a girl who had eyes like Castiel's. Dean had tried so hard not to think about it, not to think about Cas when he met a girl with blue eyes and not to think about Cas' full lips when he kissed someone else. He could kiss those lips as much as he wanted now, though, and he took every advantage, kissing Cas until they were both breathless with it. "Dean," Cas murmured in that whiskey soaked voice of his, the one that made him sound so much older. Dean loved the way Cas said his name. He realized in that second he always had, maybe even from that first day. Cas pressed up against him again, whimpering now, clutching hard onto Dean. Dean realized he'd never wanted anything the way he wanted to make Cas come then, to feel him arch under him as those eyes got even wider.
Cas let out a soft, shuddery moan that told Dean he was already so close, his fingers digging into Dean's arm. "Dean," he whispered again and Dean couldn't help moaning at the need he heard there. "Dean."
Dean startled awake to a quiet room, the DVD menu playing in a loop on the TV. His heart jackhammered in his chest as he lay there on the couch, What the hell was that? the only thought in his head. He looked around and saw Cas curled up asleep just the way he had been in the dream, but this time instead of waking him up Dean crept off the couch and stumbled backward toward the shower. He turned up the hot water as high as it could go to try to scald the dream away. Every time he thought about the way Cas' eyes had looked in the dream or the way his voice had rasped on Dean's name he felt himself start to get hard again and he strangled those thoughts down. Dean Winchester didn't have thoughts like that. And he sure as hell didn't have those kind of thoughts about friends of his, Jesus Christ.
By the time he felt like it was safe again the hot water had long since run out. He turned off the tap and dried himself off before venturing back outside to his relief fining Castiel still fast asleep. Dean shook him awake, making sure to be rougher than he had in the dream. "Cas. C'mon, get up. You can't sleep down there."
Castiel's bleary eyes blinked open and for one terrifying second Dean thought he'd be able to look into Dean's head and know what he'd been dreaming about. The instant passed though, and Dean didn't see anything on Castiel's face aside from ordinary, sleepy confusion. "Dean? Is it morning already?"
"Nah," Dean said, hoping he sounded smoother than he felt. "Still middle of the night, but you're gonna get one hell of a crick in your neck if you sleep there all night."
Cas' brow furrowed. "But then why did you shower?"
Sheer panic shut down Dean's brain for a second. "Spilled some beer on myself. Felt sticky," he said, and was that ever the wrong thing to blurt out.
Fortunately, though, Cas was Cas and didn't seem to think anything of it. "Should we go to bed, then?"
"No!" Dean felt guilty as hell, but he couldn't deal with Cas sleeping so close. Not tonight. "No, dude, crash on the couch. It's gotta be more comfortable than that crappy air mattress, anyway."
"But I thought you said you'd get in trouble?"
"The manager's away for the weekend," Dean said, which at least was true. "It's cool this once."
Castiel just shrugged and stretched out on the couch, clearly too tired to question it. "'Kay. 'Night, Dean."
"Yeah. Yeah, 'night, Cas."
Dean didn't get any sleep that night.
That Monday at school Dean tracked down Mandy the head cheerleader even before first bell rang; it only took a few well-chosen, apologetic words to get her to drag him into the AV club supply closet and man, Dean really did love those little cheerleader skirts.
And if he had to close his eyes when he realized hers were blue, he refused to think about it.
-On to Part 4-
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-Back to Part 2