A/N: the title is a quote by Muhammad Ali. This is a slow-build story, so Destiel comes in later chapters. The first chapter serves almost as a prologue, back when they were kids. Rated M for drug and alcohol abuse, swearing, and sexual content in later chapters.
Disclaimer: If I owned Supernatural, do you think I would be writing this?
Reviews are wonderful, especially criticism. Anything to make my writing better. Enjoy :)
The two boys sat out on the lawn, the dark grass swishing lazily against their bare feet. The night was young, the moon barely peaking over the roof of the house before them. It was a wonderful late summer night, with fireflies glowing dimly, tiny yellow spotlights against the sea of moderate darkness. The ancient wind chime on the black porch clanged repeating melodies as the soft breeze picked up. The sky was clear, and the first few stars were beginning to come out.
One of the little elementary-aged boys sighed contentedly, and moved to put his arms behind his head, golden hair against dark grass. He was quite the adorable child, with delicate facial features and dopey emerald eyes. His plush lips were pulled into a natural smirk, making him look slightly mischievous even when he wasn't getting into trouble. Right now though, he was relaxed, bow legs lying out in front of him on the ground, facing up.
His friend parroted his movements, slightly smaller limbs stiffly maneuvering to newly position themselves identically. Innocent sapphire eyes looked back over, making sure he did it correctly. Blowing his dark hair out of his face, he frowned slightly, subconsciously squaring his jaw. Unlike the Green-Eyed Wonder beside him, this child didn't have the same air of confidence about him. But his eyes, however naïve, were also intelligent, and sparkled with curiosity.
"Hey Dean?" the smaller of the two asked in a light whisper.
"Mmm?" Dean asked, closing his eyes.
"Are we gonna get in trouble?"
"Naw, Cas, it'll be fine," Dean reassured his best friend in a light tone. They had no need to be loud, and talked just above a hushed whisper.
Castiel, trusting Dean, nodded. He didn't want to get in trouble with his parents, but if his best friend said it was okay, then it must be okay.
They sat in companionable silence, the fireflies venturing back over to where the boys were. One landed on the side of Cas's face, and crawled up the pale flesh to the tip of the nose. Castiel's mouth pulled up at the corners, but he didn't do anything to deter the bug from it's important mission.
Dean raised himself up on his right elbow, leaning towards Castiel. "What d'you wanna be when you grow up?"
"I dunno," he responded automatically. The insect took off from the bridge of his nose, flying away towards Dean's porch. "Wait, I wanna be a scientist. A biologist."
"Biologist, huh?" Dean mused, turning the idea around in his mind. His face broke out into a grin, as he said, "So you can study bees, right?"
Castiel blushed, and countered, "Bees are interesting. They act as a single unit, thinking only for the good of the hive." Worried about boring his friend, Castiel quickly turned the question around. "What d'you wanna do?"
"Me?" the elder Winchester brother thought aloud. "I guess it would be cool to work with my dad, y'know?"
Cas gave a noncommittal grunt in response.
"Oh c'mon, it's not all bad!" Dean said defensively. He began again, in a more thoughtful tone, "it's not just about shooting bad guys. You gotta solve the crime, and save the people. Dad's boss was telling me about it. 'You gotta figure out who you're dealing with, first. It's like a puzzle, you gotta solve it before you can do anything else."
"I wouldn't want to work with your father," Castiel said unsmiling. "He's scary."
"Yeah, well maybe I could be a detective instead. Solving crimes, catching killers, saving babes," they both giggled at the last comment.
"I can see it now," Dean continued, waving his hand through the air for dramatic effect. "Dean Winchester: Expert Detective, and his nerdy sidekick, Castiel Novak: Lame Scientist."
"Scientists are not lame!" his friend pouted.
"Oooh, a shooting star!" Dean cried, pointing towards the night sky.
"It's a plane, stupid."
"Yeah, well, I was just kidding. I know it was a plane."
Castiel smirked, but didn't press the issue further.
...
And here the two best friends sat again, fifteen years later. Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak, twenty-four and twenty-five respectfully, sprawled out on the grass, gazing up at the stars.
"Look, a comet! Or a shooting star!" Dean exclaimed, waving a cheese-covered hand up towards the starry expanse.
Cas groaned. "First of all, it's a satellite. Secondly, you just knocked over the bowl of chips."
"So? They're still edible!"
"That's disgusting."
"Suit yourself, you stiff." Dean grabbed a handful of chips from the ground, taking a few blades of grass with him, and stuffed them all into his mouth. He smirked over at his cringing friend, and turned back to watch the stars come out with his companion.