The soccer ball flew through the air, hundreds of pairs of eyes watching it as it sailed in the direction of the net. Victor Henrikson jumped and tried to stop the black and white object, but his hands missed it by inches. It hit the net, and cheers filled the area, the loudest one being from Dean Winchester.
"That was my boyfriend," he called out, standing on his seat and looking at the other people seated on the bleachers. "My boyfriend did that."
"Sit down, boy," Bobby Singer said to him, tugging on the teenager's letterman jacket, which actually belonged to aforementioned boyfriend. "You'll embarrass him."
Dean rolled his eyes and sat back down. "Your son doesn't get embarrassed by me," he said, "Cas knows I'm his personal cheerleader, and he loves it."
"You already have the skirt for it," Dean's brother Sam muttered from his place next to him, earning him a glare from the older boy.
Their cousin, Jo, seated on Sam's right, giggled and said, "We should get him matching pom poms."
"Stay out of my stuff," Dean hissed at them, as the referee blew the whistle.
"I don't need to know what you two do," Bobby murmured.
"I know," Bobby's youngest child, Ash, said from his seat to the left of him, "I've heard them."
"No, you haven't," Bobby said. "Twelve year olds don't hear those things."
"But-"
"Quiet time," he said, and shot Dean an angry look. The boy smiled sheepishly and turned his attention back to the game.
Castiel was dribbling the ball down the field, maneuvering his way gracefully around the opposing players. He passed it over to Balthazar Freely, who kicked it into the net, and more cheers erupted from the Elliot Ness High School side of bleachers.
Again, Dean stood up, and yelled, "Assist! My boyfriend did that assist!"
"Shut the fuck up!" someone from behind him screamed.
Dean turned around and scanned the top bleachers, looking for the source of the noise. His eyes fell on Meg Rachels, a dark haired senior who was in Castiel's gym class. Dean did not like her. When she noticed Dean looking at her, she flipped him off.
Dean smirked in response and mouthed, He's mine, bitch. He turned back around and sat down, attention back on the game. He clapped his hands and yelled, "Cas, Cas, Cas!"
Bobby flicked his ear.
Dean sighed when he saw his broken lock on the floor. He dropped his backpack next to him and kicked the lock down the hallway. He pulled open his locker, not reacting when he saw "Fat Faggot" written in black marker on the inside of the door. Somebody was always breaking into his locker and writing stuff inside it, putting bugs in his lunch, or ripping pages out of his books. It had happened so many times that he was no longer surprised.
"Of course this happened on a Monday," he muttered to himself, as he cleaned the door with the little spray bottle of water and the washcloth he kept in his locker. "The one good day of the week."
It was hard for Dean and Castiel to spend time together: Castiel had soccer on Sundays and Tuesdays, hockey on Wednesdays and Thursdays, and swimming on Fridays and Saturdays. Dean had Video Game Club on Wednesdays, Myths and Legends Club on Thursdays, and Friday was Dungeons & Dragons night.
They had decided in the beginning of the year that they would go on a date every Monday, and Dean looked forward to it every week. Sometimes they would go see a movie and fuck in the bathroom, eat in Dean's treehouse and fuck on a pile of blankets and pillows, or drive to the park and fuck against a tree.
Dean grinned when he remembered what he had planned for them that night: pizza, pie, and a horror movie.
As soon as Dean finished cleaning, arms circled around his waist. He felt a warm feeling in his chest, and tossed the bottle and cloth into the locker.
"You smell nice, today," said the person hugging him, and it was clearly not Castiel.
Dean pulled the arms off of him and turned around. He knew just by the voice it was Alastair Corture, a creepy senior who was constantly hitting on Dean. He had tried getting the eighteen year old expelled, but he never had any proof of harassment.
Alastair was giving the younger teen a smile that was probably supposed to be charming, but it just made Dean uncomfortable.
"What did I say about touching me?" Dean snapped, backing into the lockers.
"Aww, c'mon sweetheart," Alastair said, taking a few step towards him, "don't pretend you don't love it."
"Why can't you get it through your thick skull that I have a boyfriend?" Dean said, trying to sound confident and crossing his arms.
"What he doesn't know," Alastair lifted his hand and gripped Dean's chin hard, "won't hurt him."
A hand wrapped around the senior's wrist. "Off," said a deep voice, "or I kick you so hard you won't ever have children." Alastair rolled his eyes but did as commanded, shaking off Castiel's hand. He gave Dean a wink before walking away.
"Are you alright?" Castiel asked as he wrapped his arms around Dean.
"Now I am," Dean responded, giving the older boy a kiss on the cheek, "with my knight in shining armor."
Castiel smiled at him and said, "I'm sorry about yesterday." After the game Castiel had immediately gone home to study for a calculus test.
"It's fine," Dean responded, turning around in Castiel's arms to face his locker. He started moving his books around, looking for his english notebook. "'The Hills Have Eyes 2' arrived yesterday, so we can watch it and have some pizza. My mom bought apple pie for us, too," Castiel let go of Dean, but the the junior didn't acknowledge it. "Oh, and after school today, Sam and Jo want to go the park, you should bring your baseball glove. Ash can come if he wants."
"I, uh, can't," Castiel said nervously, "I am going somewhere after school." Dean turned around and stared at Castiel, an angry expression on his face. "I'll be back during fourth period tomorrow."
"Are you fucking serious?" Dean said, "Why didn't you tell me before? Where are you going that so damn important anyway?"
"Calm down, Dean," Castiel replied, putting his hand on the younger boy's shoulder. Dean shook him off and looked away. "My parents want to take Ash and I skeet shooting." Dean let out a scoff and looked back at Castiel, eyes narrowed. "I can ask if they'll let you come."
"I-," Dean started to say, but he stopped when he noticed Daphne Allen and Meg standing in front of their lockers on the other side of hallway, watching them. Meg had her arms crossed and was smirking, and Daphne was clutching the cross she always carried with her. Dean pulled Castiel towards him and kissed him, looking at Daphne and Meg as he did so. When he pulled away, he gave the two of them a condescending grin.
"Just go be with your family," Dean said, looking back at his boyfriend. "I'll be fine by myself."
Castiel smiled. "We can hang out after my practice tomorrow, okay?" Dean nodded in response and smiled. Castiel kissed his nose and said, "I have to go to my locker, I'll be back in a few minutes ."
Dean watched him walk away, eyes focused on the senior's ass.
"You're both going to hell," Dean heard Daphne say. He turned to her and rolled his eyes. She had said that to him almost every day since him and Castiel got together.
"Don't you have to go pray or something?" He really wanted to say something insulting to her, but Castiel had asked him to be civil with her. Daphne went to Castiel's church, and he thought if they were nice to her, she would stop the whole homophobia nonsense.
"Yes," she responded, slamming her locker closed and snapping the lock on. "I'll pray that Castiel will come to his senses, and be with who he belongs with." She shook her head at Dean and walked off.
Meg started chuckling, an irritating noise that made Dean's blood boil. He turned to her, anger obvious in his eyes. "What's so funny?"
"You are, fairy," she responded, pointing at him. "You are quite amusing."
"And why is that?" he asked, raising an eyebrow.
"You are so upset about Cas being gone for a few hours, you're gonna lose it when he dumps you for me," she pulled a flask out of her locker and opened it. "You're probably gonna bawl your faggy little eyes out."
"Okay," Dean said calmly, "I know your tiny mind will find this task difficult, but I think it is important you do this; go get a dictionary and look up the word 'gay'."
She rolled her eyes and said, "That's just a phase."
Dean shook his head in disbelief. "Even if he liked girls, he wouldn't like you."
"No, he would and he does," she said, and took a sip. Her eyes widened and she spat out the liquid. Dean started laughing. "This isn't my whiskey."
"Nope," Dean said, smiling, "it's iced tea and cinnamon. I know you're the one who keeps breaking into my locker. Also, leave my Cas alone."
She strutted over to him, nostrils flaring, and pulled her fist back. Dean backed up and shut his eyes, anticipating pain. He was surprised when he felt a warm substance on his shoulder. He opened his eyes and saw that Meg had dumped the contents of her flask onto him, and it was running down his shirt.
"If I hit you, I'll probably get expelled."
"What is wrong with you?" Meg and Dean turned and saw Castiel standing a foot away, fists clenched and a pissed off expression on his face.
"Oh, hey Cas," Meg said, hiding her flask behind her, "I was just-"
"Shush," Castiel interrupted, "Do not speak with Dean again, you greasy haired nuisance. Come, Dean," he held out his hand, "I believe Benny is your size."
Dean shut his locker, picked up his bag, and took the senior's hand. As Castiel led him away, he looked back at Meg and stuck his to tongue out at her. She stared back at him, a furious look on her face.
As the first warning bell for homeroom rang, Meg took out her phone and sent out a mass text to three people.
I think Dean Fagchester needs to be taught a lesson, she texted.
All three responded, saying they were game for anything.
Meg smirked.