The first time Dean had Castiel over to his house was the first time he'd ever invited anyone over without the intentions of sex. So it made sense that it was also the first time he'd ever had a boy over. Apart from his closest childhood friends who all lived out of town, he'd never had anyone from school over before. So inviting Castiel, the strange boy he'd known for less than 2 weeks over was a very very big deal for him.
It was a Friday night in late November and his father was out on a hunt, not expected back until the following Sunday so Dean had no need to worry about being caught. But he still did, and rightfully so.
Racing home after school that day, butterflies in his stomach, he struggled to control the urge to panic and call the whole thing off. Castiel was supposed to arrive at 6 o'clock which gave him an hour and a half to get ready after he showered. He grabbed his backpack from the passenger seat of his car once he pulled into the driveway, flying out of the car. The house key shook in his hands as he struggled to unlock it, completely forgetting to do the checks he was supposed to do every day before entering the house after school. He bounded up the stairs towards the bathroom when he stopped short in his bedroom doorway. His closet was spewing out its contents onto his floor from his lack of care for his clothes, and he realised he had nothing to wear. He'd been on plenty of dates before and had never been nervous before, had hardly even thought about what he should wear. But now, he was way out of his depth; he'd never felt like this about someone before and it'd never been another boy.
His heart rate picked up and his palms began to sweat as he decided to shower first. He turned the water on as hot as he dared and scrubbed himself, using about half his bottle of body wash, trying to get all the sweat and dirt off him from a day at school. He wanted Castiel to think he was attractive, not a dirty slob. Once the burning heat of the water became too much on his skin, he climbed out and wrapped a towel around his waist, staring at his reflection in the mirror. He knew he was attractive, and he had never really doubted that nor had to, because there was always a girl or two happy to remind him. But somehow, tonight of all nights, he began to. Were his eyes nice enough for Castiel? Was his hair too long, too short? Was his nose too small, his ears too big? Scrubbing a hand over his face, he sighed. These were things he had no power over and couldn't change so he should stop worrying about them. Dean felt the stubble around his chin and realised it'd been 3 days since he'd last shaved. He began to wonder if Castiel would like him better clean shaven or not, so he decided he would shave just to be on the safe side. Applying aftershave and deodorant once he had finished in the bathroom, he hurried back to his bedroom in search of something to wear, eyes purposefully avoiding the closed bedroom door opposite his.
It was getting close to 5pm as he stood in the centre of his room, looking for something to wear. He had an hour and he still needed to prepare for dinner, and get up the courage to go into Sa—into the other bedroom and get the DVD's. Looking around, he spotted his good black jeans sticking out from under his bed and nearly whooped with joy when he realised they were clean and unworn. He slipped his favourite Pink Floyd t-shirt over his head and a blue check shirt unbuttoned over the top. He spent ten minutes trying to decide if he should wear shoes or not before coming to the conclusion that a pair of clean white socks was just fine.
Dean hurried into the kitchen, cleaning things up and putting things away as he went. He didn't want him to think his house was dirty and that his family was bad because of it; they were bad for other reasons. He made sure the kitchen and living room were spotless and neat, the DVD's on a pile on the coffee table (getting them had been painful and he was lucky he hadn't started crying again), furniture all straight and all rubbish disposed of because this would be where they spent their time tonight.
The clock ticked just passed 5:30pm as he finally made his way to the kitchen to start dinner. He had promised Castiel his famous homemade hamburgers and was suddenly so glad that they were simple and he knew the recipe off by heart, because he didn't have the focus to make something any more complicated than burgers.
Dean got out the mince, dicing some carrots and onions to mix into it with the sauce before kneading it all together, rolling in into small patties. He sliced up onions, tomatoes, cheese, washed some lettuce, got out the bottles of sauce before putting it all on the table which he had set nicely with plates, napkins, knives and forks. It was probably the first time in 15 years that it had been set like that. Cooking had always been a secret hobby of Dean's that could always calm him when he needed it. The rhythmic movements of chopping vegetables and kneading the mince had distracted him and time and flown for half an hour until there was a knock at the front door.
Dropping everything in his heads, which was luckily only a tea towel, he glanced quickly at the clock and realised it was indeed 6 o'clock. 6:04pm to be exact. He hastily washed his hands to get rid of any food and ran a shaky hand through his hair, checking himself over in the mirror in the entryway before pulling open the front door.
Castiel stood on the doorstep of the house, looking up at Dean with huge round eyes. Dean's breath caught in his throat as he drank in the sight before him. He knew Castiel looked good, really good, all the time but this…this was something different. His eyes looked bluer than usual in the dim light coming from the doorway, making him look even more pure. It appeared as though he had tried to comb his hair, but it just made it stick up even more in the most adorable way. By the way his jaw fell open slightly and his eyes opened even wider, it was obvious he wasn't the only one shocked at what they saw. Dean blushed furiously and stepped aside, holding open the door.
"Come…come on in," he stuttered nervously, fiddling with the hem of his shirt. Castiel stood staring at him for a moment before walking carefully into the house. They were both as nervous as each other by the way they stood awkwardly in the entryway, facing each other. Castiel kept glancing up at him and then blushing before averting his gaze again.
"Hi Dean…" he murmured quietly. That was enough to break Dean out of his nerves and he took a hesitant stepped forward before wrapping his arms around Castiel's shoulders, hugging him to his chest.
"Hey Cas," He felt the angel relax into his grip, arms sliding around his waist and hugging him back. Dean took hold of his hand when Castiel pulled away, leading him down the hallway and through the living room to the kitchen/dining room. Dean had plugged his iPod dock into the kitchen and it was playing quietly in the background- he had downloaded a whole lot of Florence and the Machine, Led Zeppelin and any other related bands onto his iPod because he knew those were Castiel's favourite bands. Castiel looked around the kitchen at the set dining table, the few candles he'd found under the bathroom sink that had belonged to him mother scattered around, making the room smell lovely. Small bowls of burger fillings sat on the table and the meat in a pan ready to be cooked. Dean watched him take it all in, palms sweating nervously before Cas turned to him and smiled hugely.
"Dean, this is perfect." He whispered, walking over to him and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. Dean relaxed, all of the tension bleeding out of him as he leant into the kiss, humming quietly. He ran his hand down Castiel's arm and took hold of his hand, intertwining their fingers.
Dean dragged him over to the table and pushed him down into his seat before heading over to where the meat sat, ready to be cooked. He could feel Castiel's blue eyes watching him as he lit the stove and put some garlic oil in the pan, flattening the burgers down with a satisfying sizzle. Led Zeppelin's 'Stairway to Heaven' was playing quietly in the background and Dean hummed along, swaying absentmindedly to the rhythm as he flipped the patties with professional skill.
Dean didn't feel the need to break the comfortable silence between them as he cooked the meat, not saying anything until he slipped the food onto a plate and placing it on the table.
"Did you want something to drink, Cas? Water, milk, coke, beer?" he asked, turning to face him with a fond smile on his face.
"Can I have a coke please, Dean?" he replied quietly, eyes still watching him as he walked around the room. Dean grabbed two of the glass bottles out of the fridge and walked over to Castiel, standing behind his chair. He placed the bottles on the table and rested his hands on his shoulders, pressing a kiss to his hair.
"Thank you for coming tonight, Castiel. It really means a lot that I'm not alone, especially while dads on a job and—
Dean cut himself off when he realised they weren't alone. He looked up from Castiel to find his father standing in the doorway of the kitchen, a look of such disappointment on his face that Dean's knees nearly buckled underneath him. His father just shook his head and turned to leave, but before he did, he couldn't help but crush Dean even further.
"And you wondered why I always loved your brother more."
And just like that, all the happiness that had begun to fill him and help him over his pain was gone. All it took was 10 words from the one person who was supposed to love him unconditionally for Dean to go back to the way he was before- nothing but pain and anger, self-hatred and the desire to die at his own hands. That emptiness in his eyes replaced what had been happiness moments before. His shoulders slumped and he stepped away from Castiel, everything about him looking drained, even the colour of his clothes.
Dean couldn't even find enough anger in him to fight his father because he was right. He was always right. Dean was a failure and would be in every aspect of his life. He could never change that. Closing his eyes, he turned away unable to bare the look of shame and disappointment that was surely on Castiel's face.
"…Dean?" Castiel reached out and laid a careful hand on his shoulder, but Dean just shook it off.
"Cas, just….please."
Castiel didn't say anything else or try and comfort him for which he was glad. He turned around but didn't look up at him, instead grabbing his jacket off the back of his chair.
"You should leave now; I'll drop you home." He said, voice empty of any emotion, which was far scarier than an angry or a sobbing Dean. A robot Dean was scarier than anything. He slipped on his jacket and pulled his keys from his pocket, walking out of the room without waiting for Castiel. His father sat on the couch in the living room, passed out drunk. Dean couldn't help but wish for a moment that he would never wake up but then kicked himself mentally. He couldn't afford to think like that.
Stopping only to shove his feet into his boots, Dean walked silently out to his car, slipping into the driver's seat and waiting for Castiel. His face showed no emotion as he stared straight ahead, but his knuckles were white from how tightly he was holding the steering wheel and his shoulders were tense. There was an aching inside his chest that he hadn't felt since Sam—since That Day. He wouldn't have been surprised if he looked down to find a gaping bloody hole in his chest where his heart had once been, blood soaking through and leading a trail to where a beating heart lay bloody on the kitchen floor.
Dean could see Castiel leave the house out of the corner of his eye, looking sad and small. He didn't turn to the angel when he silently slid into the car, just started the engine and began the short drive to Castiel's house. The silence between them was deafening and the tension was suffocating. Castiel opened his mouth more than once to try and say something but always stopped himself. Dean just stared straight ahead, not even turning when he pulled up out the front of his house. Dean had only ever been here once after dropping Castiel off after school, though never going inside. It was a large white house; full of expensive furniture that made Castiel seem so out of place. When Dean didn't say anything, Cas sighed sadly and opened the door. He glanced briefly at Dean before climbing out. If he had been human, he wouldn't have heard it but his angel senses caught Dean's very faint, very quiet whisper.
"I'm so sorry, Cas."
Dean didn't wait to see if he heard, driving off as soon as the door was closed. He couldn't resist the urge to look in the rear view mirror as he drove off, and immediately regretted it. Castiel was standing on the curb staring after him, looking completely broken and helpless. The hole in Dean's chest was ripped even bigger as he desperately wanted to turn around and take Castiel into his arms, holding him tight. But he couldn't. So, doing what the Winchester boys were known to do, he ran away from his problems. Literally.