Trying my hand at some Destiel for a change. Hoping I can update this story as often as possible but just depends. Got some big plans for this however!
Hot summer sun sparkled down on the body of the Impala when Dean pulled up outside the building. Metallica was thumping through his veins after the long ride and he was still mid jam when he cut the motor. Whistling a tune he curiously peered out the window to double check the address he had scribbled down when Sammy called. Seemed right. He knew it must be one of the rooms up that path.
Confidently Dean slipped out of the car, swinging a black hold-all bag over his shoulder and locked her up, patting his hand on the hood of his precious baby. He nodded proudly to himself and began striding up the path towards the red brick dorm in the distance, his bag swinging under his arm.
It sure had been a long time since he'd last heard from Sam. They tried to call each other at least once a week but understandably lessons and finals were taking priority and they hadn't managed to talk properly in nearly a month. He was thrilled when Sam had rung and invited him to come stay for the weekend. More so for an excuse to get away from Dad.
Dean skimmed a look around the campus while he walked and breathed deeply. Sam leaving for college had impacted hard on him, though he wouldn't admit it to anyone. The past year had been a learning curve for sure. For the first time in his life, since he was a four year old boy, Dean had been alone. Completely. He knew he would always have his Dad around somewhere or other and Sammy was a mere phone call away, but for months Dean spent his nights chugging beer in cheap motels and driving the highways with his cassettes for company.
Sam seemed to be doing well from what Dean could gather and despite how lonely he felt, he was still incredibly proud that his brother had managed to successfully escape the hunting lifestyle. It sure was tough now though. Especially going at it as a lone ranger. For the next few days however Dean just wanted to put hunting to the back of his mind and enjoy the college experience.
Sun rays scattered through the green treetops down onto the cobbled path, highlighting on Dean's dark blonde hair as he walked on. A lady on a bike whizzed by and two joggers bounced past him. Followed by a group of girls carrying travel coffee cups wandering in Deans direction, smiling and giggling when they caught his gaze. Dean was used to this kind of attention. Females seemed to fawn over him. He dug his hands into his jeans pockets and winked at the women for fun.
Still focused on the skirt tails of the girls Dean stumbled right into a bustling body. A stack of leather bound books tumbled to the ground and a pair of glasses fell onto the stones. A smartly dressed man lowered down immediately to collect up his belongings, dark locks tumbling over his brow. Dean turned wide eyed, arms up, peering down at the black haired stranger.
"Oh shit, sorry dude," Dean apologised, kneeling down to help the student, his bag slipping off slightly at the shoulder.
Dean picked up the black specs, using his sleeve to wipe at the glass before he handed them over to the man. The mans nimble hands stuffed the glasses into a trench coat pocket and he scooped up the papers and novels, dusting the covers.
Dean looked up at the tanned faced guy, smoothing a hand over his jaw, "I hope they aren't cracked." The man shook his head dismissively, mumbling agitatedly away to himself. Dean rose to his feet, readjusting his bag comfortably onto his shoulder and the man quickly got up too, a jumble of folders hanging precariously out of his satchel before he tucked them safely back in.
Dean reached out a hand, "I'm Dean." The man smoothed a hand through his hair, pushing it up and out of his face. Dean couldn't help but stare at the bright, cobalt eyes that gazed back at him.
"You should look where you're going," the man replied, awkwardly shaking Dean's hand. Dean blinked and looked down at his palms; this guys hands were so soft, like weirdly smooth.
"Yeh I know I'm sorry, I'm kinda lost," Dean explained with a goofy grin.
"I can tell," replied the man sharply.
Dean slumped and rolled his eyes. This guy clearly wasn't having any of his charm. His voice was cold and monotone. An unimpressed expression painted on his face. Then to Dean's surprise the man just started to stride away without a word.
"Well could you maybe give me some directions?" Dean shouted after him, hands on his hips irritated.
"I haven't got the time. I'm late," the student called back as he rushed off.
Dean shook his head annoyed, "Asshole." He turned and strode off, hands thrust back into his pockets and frustration creasing his brow.
Kicking some pebbles along the cobbles with his boots Dean marched up to the dorm building entrance. The door swung open with a whine. Dean winced. Those kinds of high-pitched screeches and creaks really made his skin crawl. Gave him terrible flashbacks to former hunting trips; blood-curdling Banshee shrieks in particular. He rubbed his forehead, metaphorically shaking away those memories, reminding himself that for the foreseeable future hunting was not in his job description.
Dean scanned the corridors, eyes flicking up from the scrap of paper to the door numbers till finally he came to the right room. He rattled his knuckles loudly on the wood panels. The door flung open and he was greeted by a bear hug; two long arms wrapping round his body, hands patting his back.
"Hiya Sammy!" Dean managed to say as his brother embraced him. Sam was as tall as ever. Dean just came up to his shoulders. He grumbled at the height difference.
"You need to stop growing so much dude," Dean said, poking two fingers into Sams ribs. His brother released him from his hold and fitted away with a jump.
"Hey! None of that you jerk," Sam laughed. Dean looked him up and down. He certainly had changed a lot. A messy mop of hair curled down his clean shaven face and toppled onto his hoodie which he had half zipped up. A pair of sneakers were tucked under some tight, black jeans with rips in them. Casually Sam stuck his hands in his hoodie pockets.
"You part of a boy band now or something?" Dean raised his eyebrow questioningly at Sams new style.
Sam shook his head chuckling and moving over towards a bed by the window, "Shuddup you ass. Did you find the room alright?"
Dean closed the room door behind him and walked over toward Sam dropping his hold-all on the wooden floor by the bed. Sams duvet was piled in a heap and he collapsed into the bed lazily. Half of the room, clearly Sams side, was a mess. A bookshelf on the wall beside Sams bed was cluttered with dusty books and folders and pencils. On the wall was an array of band posters and magazine cut outs all tacked on in a wild collage. Hangers and t-shirts scattered the floor. Yet on the other side of the room there wasn't a thing out of place. A sleek black bookshelf housed alphabetised collections and paper weights and a thriving fern plant. The bed was made with completely white sheets and on the wall was a calendar, a whiteboard and a notice board.
Dean kicked at a pair of jeans on the floor, "Yeah I found the place okay in the end. Looks like you have a WILD roommate. How come your sides such a bloody mess?"
"Yeah my roommate, Cas, is pretty well organised. The room is like this after most weekends. Jess likes to go out and we always end up getting way too drunk. I was just gonna give a quick tidy when you arrived," Sam explained, sitting up and stuffing some clothes into drawers.
"Oh, Jess huh? I remember you mentioning something 'bout a girl last time we talked. This the same girl?" Dean asked.
Sam messed a hand through his head embarrassed, "Yeah, it is. Jess is great Dean, you'll really like her. She's really down to earth and funny. Plus she's hot as hell. I was actually going to meet her in a little while. I wasn't expecting you to get here so quickly. Maybe you could come along and meet her?"
"I drove straight here. Thought about stopping for something to eat but in the end I just drove all the way. I don't wanna get in the way of you two Sammy, if you've got plans. I could just chill. It's no biggy."
"You wouldn't be getting in the way. Come with," Sam insisted.
"Nah, honestly Sammy, I'm good. I was hoping to catch a shower anyway. Why don't I freshen up, let you see Jess and maybe you could bring her back here and we could all go out for food?" Dean suggested. Sam stood up grinning.
"Sounds great. I'll text you when we're on our way back. There are towels and stuff in the bathroom just there," Sam indicated to a door next to the black bookshelf, on the other side of the room. Dean nodded and Sam playfully punched his shoulder before waving and walking out of the door.
Dean exhaled loudly and fell back onto the bed rubbing his head. His mind was buzzing with thoughts. Sam had transformed. He was like a different person. Same skin. Same crazy hairstyle. But a stranger behind the eyes. There was a new twinkle, a sparkle of hope, glinting in the corner of Sams hazel gaze. Dean hadn't seen that look before. True happiness.
There was an ache in his chest. Like a tear in the seam of his heart. Sam had finally found joy. He had made it. Although Dean was ecstatic for his brother he was partly devastated. There was no way Sam could come back to him now. It wasn't fair. Where was his chance to escape? Why had he never broke free? Sammy. That's why. Dean had raised a child. From bottle to a rowdy teenager. Another person that depended on him to house and educate and feed. There hadn't been time to pack up and go to college. The apple pie life was getting further and further away. Like the string of a balloon drifting up into the clouds, fingertips apart. Dean wiped his fingers over his weary eyes. Already, at just 26, he was getting ageing creases at the corners of his eyelids and bags were forming under his lashes.
Dean felt like he had been brought up tired. Never a chance to rest. Always moving. Always working. He drifted back to many memories when he was a boy; clambering out of bed in the dead of night to rock crying Sammy to sleep; sitting at a motel table reading through Sams English homework; training everyday at the crack of dawn in preparation for hunting trips. He was constantly on the go. An endless list of things to do. When he'd had a chance to unwind he only spent a short time at a local bar drinking whisky because he knew in his heart that Sam would be waiting in their motel room.
Dean swung his body up off the bed and walked forward into the bathroom. Enough feeling sorry for himself. For the next few days he was going to chill. Starting with a hot shower. He sourced out the towels and set them on the counter. Swiftly he unbuttoned his plaid shirt and folded it up on the floor, followed by a grey t-shirt. He put an arm into the shower cubicle and flicked the water switch, a drumming spray of water shooting out of the shower head into the drain. Holding onto the hem of his jeans and boxers Dean dropped down the last of his clothes till he stood bare naked in the bathroom. He waited a moment so that steam rose up and fogged up the glass of the shower walls before he slipped inside and closed the door behind him.
The water slashed down onto Dean's body. He was pleasantly surprised at how strong the jet of water was against his skin considering he was in a college dorm. The drumming liquid ran over his shoulders and down the indent in his back, trailing down till it sloshed off the curve of his ass. He hung his head under the shower head till wet strands of hair were stuck to his forehead. The constant thrum into his skull releasing his animosity and sadness. Like a detox. All the jealous thoughts washing away like dirt down the drain. Slowly Dean stepped away from the spray, poured some shower gel into his palms and massaged the gel in circles till it transitioned into a foamy lather. Then he began running his hand softly over his chest and forearms. The bubbles floated down his biceps. He clapped his hands together, rubbing his fingers into each other and gathering more soap. Next Dean cleansed his cheeks with the mixture, washing his face and the black circles under his eyes. He inched his palms down his jawline over his stubble. Once the water had washed away all the suds Dean turned the shower off and stepped out onto a bathmat dripping.
He quickly whipped the towel from the counter round his head and shook his hair through the softness of the fabric till he had a messy, half-dry hairdo. He then rubbed the towel down his chest to his junk, letting the towel drop around his thighs. Shifting the towel around his waist Dean tucked in the edge of the fabric tightly so that the towel was tied round around his hips and walked out of the bathroom.
A light steam followed him out into the airy bedroom and he was fumbling with his hair, eyes skimming across the ground. When he looked up Dean's heart stammered, in a split second his focus cleared on the shape of a man rummaging through the black bookshelf, much smaller than Sammy for sure and his body jumped into reflex fight position.
"Who the fuck are you!" Dean exclaimed, fists ready to swing. The man spun round in shock. Dean recognised him immediately. The same douchebag he'd bumped into earlier in the street. Exact trench coat, bag and books still equipped on his body but his expression was contorted. Blue eyes bulging. His cheeks burning deep red. Mouth hanging open in surprise.
"What are you doing in my room?" The man stuttered, body quivering on the spot. His white shirt was hanging out at the sides and his blue tie dangled loosely. There was a slight gleam of sweat across his brow and Dean could sense the panic and confusion mixing behind his stare.
Dean relaxed his fists by his side, "Your room? Your Sammy's roommate? Cas, is it?"
"Castiel. Only my friends call me Cas. This is our room yes. Who on earth are you? Why are you here.. Using our shower?" The man asked angrily, stumbling back slightly.
"Dean. We met earlier out on the street. I walked into you," Dean explained itching his damp scalp with his hand, "I'm Sam's brother."
"Oh right, Dean. You scared the shit out of me," Castiel said frustrated, eyes wandering back to the bookshelf. The sun broke through the window and rays landed over his toned torso. Dean was sure he saw the man gulp.
"Sorry. I was just freshening up," Dean walked over to his hold-all and dug out some new clothes, keeping one hand holding onto the bath robe, "I'll just change and get out of your way."
"It's fine I'm just getting this book. I'm late for class. No thanks to you," Cas snapped back, stuffing a book into his already full bag.
"Hey dude, it's not my fault you left your book, I apologised for bumping into you," Dean replied.
"Yeah well it didn't exactly help when I was in a rush. You bashed one of my textbooks too. Do you know how expensive those things are? I work two jobs. I have bills to pay. I don't have the funds to be buying new books every time some jerk isn't paying attention when they walk," Castiel ranted, "And your dripping on the floor. It's going to be me having to wipe that all up no doubt."
Dean gritted his teeth agitatedly, gripped his clean underwear and jeans and stomped into the bathroom, closing the door slightly. He undid his towel and hung it round his neck. Then he jumped into the boxers and yanked the jeans up swiftly in one move from ankles to waist. Castiel was shifting books around in his bag when Dean marched out of the bathroom shirtless, took the towel from his neck and started clearing up the water on the floor.
"Happy now princess?" Dean asked, looking up from a crouched position on the floor. His bright eyes begged for Castiel to bark back. Hungry for a fight. Although he was slim Dean could tell that this guy could still throw a decent punch. There was just something about him that aggravated Dean to the point where he could feel his blood boiling and his throat tightening. Everything Castiel said seemed to grind under Dean's skin like sandpaper.
However Castiel simply narrowed his eyes and shook his head tutting. He buckled up his satchel and scooted past Dean to the door.
"Nice to meet you," He said sarcastically, glaring at Dean with venom circulating on his tongue. Dean stood up and started using his foot to drag the towel around the floor.
"I'll make sure the place is cleaned to your standards for when you get back," Dean snarked, mimicking a curtsy. Castiel sighed heavily and stormed out the door with a bang.
To be continued...