A/N: I don't really know why I wrote this, just that I felt I needed to. I was feeling anxious, so I wrote a version of Cas who was anxious. Anyway, hope it's alright
I own nothing.
Castiel Novak sighed as he reached his locker. He rolled his eyes as he saw the word "fag" written on there in red spray paint. Castiel opened his locker and got his books, without paying much mind to the offensive slur.
Last weekended, Castiel had been at a party with some of his fellow high school students, and some local college kids, where he'd gotten a little too drunk. He made out with a boy from the college, and someone had gotten video of him in the act, and sent it around to the whole school. While Castiel had previously thought those kinds of things only happened in movies, the endless torment and damage to his reputation since that fatal day proved him wrong.
But it wasn't like Castiel had much of a reputation to tarnish before hand; he had few friends, and was in all advanced classes, deeming him a nerd. He wasn't in the running for valedictorian, either, so he was the kind of nerd who flew below the radar. And he liked it that way; he disliked any social interactions that weren't strictly necessary, unless they were with one of his inner circle. This small town scandal that he found himself in, did nothing to prevent these unnecessary anxiety producing situations.
Castiel walked to class with his head down, painfully aware of the number of eyes that were following him. It made his skin crawl, and he held his books to his chest as though he were using a shield. He finally made it to class, and took his usual seat, which was upsettingly close to the door. This meant that everyone who walked in the room would glance his way, and send a loud whisper to their friend about him, before they took their own seat. Castiel sighed again.
He pulled out two notebooks; one with his notes for history, and one that he used for doodling. Castiel hated history class, he found it boring and it did not challenge him, so history became his art class. Castiel wasn't good at drawing, and he could really only copy what other people had done, but he found that it calmed his nerves. And boy, did his nerves need to be calmed today.
He found that he'd been drawing a man's back, with wings sprouting from his shoulder blades, so he continued that. Castiel knew that, should his notebook be found, the image of a man with no shirt on would not help him fight the, very true, rumors about his sexuality, but he continued anyway.
Castiel continued going from class to class, spending more time on his drawings than he normally would, before he finally heard the lunch bell ring. He practically jumped out of his seat, and scrambled to get his stuff together so that he could throw it in his locker. When he got to the dreadful place, he saw that the spray paint had not been removed, but he tried not to care. He unceremoniously threw everything in his locker and grabbed his brown paper bag that was his lunch. He then put his earbuds in and turned on his music.
When he could, Castiel would eat lunch with his friends Ash, Kevin, and Rachel, but Kevin and Rachel were very involved in the school and thus were often busy, and Ash didn't bother to show up half the time, so it was never guaranteed that there'd be anyone to sit with. Luckily for him, Castiel saw that his usual table in the back corner of the cafeteria was full of familiar faces. Castiel shuffled over to the table with his head down as always so as to not attract attention, and took his seat between Rachel and Kevin. Ash was busy excitedly talking about some new computer program that he'd developed, but he was using so much hacker jargon, that Castiel had no hope of following the conversation. So instead, he put an earbud in his left ear, and happily listened to the beautiful voice of Matthew Healy.
Castiel was finally broken out of his guitar-solo-induced haze when Rachel tapped him on his shoulder. Castiel noticed that Kevin was asking Ash about the program, so he took his earbud out and turned his shoulders to face her.
"How are you doing?" She asked in that special voice that means I feel really bad for everything that you are going through but I don't want you to think that I pity you so I'm just going to ask a question that seems nonchalant.
Castiel shrugged "I don't know. I'm just trying to ignore everything."
She nodded, and picked at the skin around her fingers, before saying "I saw your locker. I'm sorry." She pressed her lips together and looked up at him through her eyelashes.
Castiel shrugged again, "Its fine." He turned and started eating his sandwich again, signaling that he was done with this topic of conversation. Rachel looked at him for a moment longer, before she, too, turned her attention back to her lunch.
The rest of lunch passed with Castiel saying little, which was not unusual, and everyone else discussing Ash's program. When the bell that signaled that end of lunch sounded, Castiel grudgingly packed his lunch up and went back to his dreaded locker. He put his lunch away, and grabbed his books for the rest of his classes, when he felt hands shove him into his locker.
He turned, only to see Lisa Braeden staring at him. "Fuck you, Castiel Novak! Fuck. You." She walked away, looking hurt, leaving Castiel stunned into paralysis. He finally shook himself out of his shock, and shuffled to his next class.
What the hell? Sure, people had whispered about him and vandalized his things, but outright insulted him? That was uncalled for. And she sounded like Castiel had personally insulted her, when in reality he'd never spoken two words to her.
Castiel know of her, as she was head cheerleader and easily the most popular girl in school, but Castiel had never had occasion to interact with her. So why would she feel the need to call me out?
Castiel spent the rest of the day thinking about the encounter. And, as his luck would have it, many people heard about the fiasco as well, and were beginning to speculate what the newly outed gay kid could have done to poor old Lisa Braeden.
Castiel was at his locker again at the end of the day, when he heard a deep voice calling his name. He turned, only to see Dean Winchester, boyfriend of Lisa Braeden, walking towards him. He was well-known throughout the school and was fairly well-liked, but he was not a typical jock. That wasn't to say he was in bad shape; he was far from it, with sculpted arms, shoulders and torso, and well muscled legs. Dean wore a leather jacket, worn out jeans, and a toothy smile.
Dean Winchester became a high school legend for beating up a sixth grader on the first day of tenth grade because the younger boy had made a mean comment about Dean's younger brother. Dean had sought the boy, Luc, out and nearly gave him a concussion. Since then, Dean had not managed to stay out of the limelight. His resume included things like having the longest suspension, filling in for the guitarist of the local band, and singlehandedly organizing the town cleanup, just to name a few. If Dean Winchester was anything, it was hard to label. So it was safe to say that when Castiel saw that shit-eating grin walking towards him, he was more than a little nervous.
"Hey," Dean said once he was close enough to Castiel.
"Hello Dean."
"Listen," Dean began to rub his neck nervously, "I want to talk about what Lisa said."
Castiel's stomach started to turn as he grew more anxious "o-okay."
"I'm really sorry."
Castiel blinked. "You're, what?"
"I'm sorry," Dean replied, more earnestly this time, "she shouldn't have done that. She was angry at me and she decided to take it out on you. So, I'm sorry."
"Thanks. Um, why would she decide to yell at me, of all people?" Castiel raised an eyebrow, locking his blue eyes with Dean's brilliant green ones.
"That's, that's not important." Dean stammered and looked at the ground, "And anyway, I broke up with her, so..."
Dean trailed off, and Castiel gaped in surprise. He opened his mouth to reply, but whatever he might've said died in his throat, as someone roughly shoved at him, causing him to fall against Dean's chest. Dean stumbled, trying to regain his balance, but ended up falling on his back, bringing Castiel down on top of him.
Castiel put his hands on Dean's chest, and began to push himself off, saying "oh, Dean, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to, I just-" he stopped short, as he felt something firm pressing against his thy. He looked at Dean, who looked away as a deep blush started crawling up his neck. Castiel roughly pushed himself off of Dean, and scurried away, leaving that goddamned school as fast as he could.
Castiel sat in his room that Saturday morning, with his psychology textbook laid on his bed in front of him, listening to Prince on vinyl. Castiel wasn't really reading his text book anymore, as he'd gotten bored after an hour or so; he was more scrolling through his phone, singing along to Prince, and feeling just a little sorry for himself.
He heard the doorbell ring, and then he heard his brother yell, "Cassie! Will you get that?"
Castiel groaned and rolled his eyes, and he lifted the needle off of the record, before bounding down the stairs. He opened the door, only to be greeted by a pair of piercing green eyes.
"Hey Cas."
"What are you doing here?" Castiel asked gruffly, crossing his arms over his chest.
"I wanted to talk."
"Dean, I don't know what you have to say, but I really don't appreciate being made fun of."
"No, Cas," Dean sighed, "I would never make fun of you. I wanted to talk about, you know, what happened?" He phrased it as a question, as though he wanted to make sure Castiel knew what he was talking about.
Castiel let his arms fall to his sides, and he looked up at Dean.
"I won't tell anyone, if that's what you're worried about."
Dean chuckled lightly, and he brought his hand up to his chin as his tongue flicked out to wet his bottom lip.
"I'm not really worried about that, either," Dean replied. "Do you think I could come in?"
"Oh yeah, sure, sorry," Castiel said as he opened the door to let Dean in, and he lead the way upstairs to his room. Once there, he sat on his bed, and Dean sat in a desk chair that he pulled so that it was in front of Castiel. Dean ran his hands down his tight, black shirt, seemingly preparing himself for what he was about to say.
"I want to tell you why I broke up with Lisa," he began.
Castiel felt uneasy. "Okay, Dean."
Dean took a deep breath. "Well, I broke up with her because I like someone else."
Castiel stared at Dean blankly, not sure how that had anything to do with him. When Dean made no move to say any more, Castiel replied "Um, good for you?"
Dean rolled his eyes, smirking. He looked like he was mulling over what he would say next, but Castiel beet him to it.
"Dean, look," he began, "while I appreciate you trying to talk to me or get to know me or whatever this is, you really don't need-" Castiel was cut off by a pair of warm, slightly chapped lips crushing against his own. He was taken by surprise, but his brain finally caught up and he began to kiss back. Dean's lips were soft and every bit made for kissing as they looked. Castiel hesitantly licked against Dean's bottom lip, asking for entrence, and was pleased when Dean readily complied. Their tongues battled for dominance briefly, before Castiel won out.
Castiel was nibbling at Dean's bottom lip when he felt his belt buckle being undone. Castiel felt panicked for a moment, having never gone that far before. What if Dean wants me to bottom? What if I'm no good? What if this is just some quick fuck so that he can get his taste for guys out of his system? He was torn away from his thoughts when he found that Dean had unzipped his pants and was now pulling him out.
Dean pulled his lips away from Castiel's, and went to kneel in front of his throbbing erection. He slowly took Castiel into his mouth, almost experimentally, until his nose was nuzzling Castiel's pubic hairs. Once he was fully deep throating Castiel, Dean flicked his eyes up to meet blue ones. He maintained eye contact as he hollowed out his cheeks and moved up Castiel's shaft until just the head was sheathed in those sinful, kiss-swollen lips.
Castiel groaned as Dean set a rhythm, bobbing his head up and down, his tongue dancing across the sensitive skin. Dean would lick up the vein on the underside, and as he got to the head, he would lick the slit, poking his tongue in just a tiny amount. Then, Dean would move back down the shaft, and when Castiel's dick was as far down his throat as he could take it, Dean would begin to hum.
As much as Castiel loved watching Dean's lust blown eyes gazing up at him oh-so innocently through thick lashes, Castiel closed his eyes and threw his head back.
"Hnng, Dean, I-I'm ... hmm, gonna come. Oh, Dean!" Castiel could barely keep his voice below a scream as he came into the wet heat of Dean's mouth. Castiel let his back fall onto his bed.
When Castiel came back to reality, he found Dean laid next to him, with his head on his chest. Castiel glanced down as he stroked Dean's hair, and noticed a wet spot on the front of Dean's jeans. I wonder what sent him over the edge, Castiel thought absentmindedly.
They sat together trying to regain their breath while Castiel continued to stroke Dean's hair. Castiel never would have taken Dean for a cuddler, but maybe the nerves from performing this act had made him act unusually. But Dean had his arms wrapped around Castiel's waist nevertheless.
Eventually, Castiel sighed, "Dean?"
"Yeah Cas?" He asked, moving to rest his chin on Castiel's chest so he could look him in the eye.
"What was this?"
"Um, I'm not completely sure. But I do like you, Cas, I really do," Dean seemed almost embarrassed to admit the fact.
Castiel's brother, Gabriel, decided that would be a good time to ask, "Cassie, who was at the door?"
Castiel groaned and turned to Dean, saying, "You should probably get going." With that, Dean nodded and made his way downstairs, where Castiel let him out and watched him drive away in that beautiful car of his. He shut the door with a sigh and tried to figure out what he'd do after that whole encounter.
Castiel found himself at his locker on Monday morning feeling no better than he had the rest of the weekend. He was discouraged because he didn't want to be fuck buddies or friends with benefits or whatever else, and there was no way that Dean was going to be ready to be in a gay relationship with the social outcast of the school. Well, at least the spray paint is mostly gone, Castiel thought almost sarcastically.
Just then, a hand with long, slender fingers, was slammed into the adjoining locker right next to Castiel's head. Castiel braced himself for the worst, as he turned to face the owner of the hand. To his surprise, he saw Dean grinning down at him fondly.
"Hey beautiful," Dean said.
"Dean? What are you doing?" Castiel was too stunned to think straight.
"What do you mean? I came to ask you something."
Castiel saw that people were starting to take notice of their current positions, and that many eyes on him made his chest tighten uncomfortably. He kept looking around, taking in every face that was turned his way, and he kept telling himself how much they all hated him, or were disgusted with him, no matter how illogical that may have been.
"Cas?"
He barely heard Dean, and his vision became blurred and his breathing became ragged. He felt very hot all of the sudden, uncomfortably so, and he hated that the hall was so crowded. Had it always been this crowded? Castiel couldn't breathe, and his chest hurt really badly.
He felt Dean's hand on his chin as though in a dream, and he looked up at him with panic in his eyes.
"Cas? What's wrong?" He seemed genuinely concerned.
"Every-everybody's w-w-watching," he managed to shake out.
Understanding seemed to draw on Dean's face as he grabbed Castiel's wrist and dragged him through the halls. Castiel watched the faces that rushed by him, horrified that they were witnessing this act of physical contact.
Castiel found that Dean had pulled them into an empty classroom, and was shutting the door behind them while Castiel stood paralyzed and hyperventilating in the center of the room. Dean came over to Castiel and wrapped his arms around the shorter boy. The hug would have been uncomfortably tight, were it not for the relief it provided for his strained breaths.
Dean whispered soothing nonsense into Castiel's ear as he held him close, saying "Shh, Cas, it's okay, you're okay, you're safe, I'm here, it's all okay." Dean held Castiel close, letting his shirt get soaked with tears, until Castiel was ready to let go.
It was about ten minutes until Castiel's breathing became normal again. When it did, Castiel bagan to feel uneasy about Dean witnessing that.
"I'm sorry, Dean," he said sadly.
"It's okay, Cas, really. My brother gets panic attacks too, so I'm used to it. Do you know what caused it?" Dean's voice was soft and gentile, like he was speaking to a spooked animal.
"I just don't like having attention drawn to me. And we were talking, and everyone was looking at us, and I thought they were judging us, and I didn't want them to be rude to me, but more importantly I didn't want anyone to think differently of you, and there were just so many people and-"
"Hey," Dean cut him off, making him realize he was rambling.
"I'm sorry," Castiel sighed.
"It's okay. Just listen to me for a second," Dean put his hand under Castiel's chin so they made eye contact. "I really like you. Okay? And I don't give a fuck what anyone here thinks of me. And if anyone gives you any shit for being who you are then I'll deal with them, okay?"
"Really? You mean that?" Castiel asked, showing a nervous smile.
"Of course!" Dean chuckled, as though he could not believe that Castiel was really asking. But then his expression changed, and he looked nervous. "In fact, I came up to you in the first place to ask if you wanted to go on a date. Like a real one, with dinner and a movie and then maybe making out in my car, but nothing more than that because I feel like I messed it up at your house and I don't want you to get the wrong idea and oh god now I'm rambling. I just think you're a really great guy and I'd really love-"
"Dean," Castiel said harshly, making Dean shut up.
"Yeah?"
"I'd love to go on a date with you." They both smiled, and Dean leaned in for a quick peck on the lips.
"Thank god! I was so worried you'd say no," Dean admitted.
"How could I say no? You're the most gorgeous guy in school, and after that whole ordeal just now, I can tell you're not a douche like I first thought."
"Well clearly I'm not the most gorgeous guy in school," Castiel furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head, "as that title belongs to you."
Castiel blushed, and Dean took his hand, leading him out into the hallway. As they left the empty classroom, Dean demanded "And what do you mean you thought I was a douche?"
Castiel chuckled lightly, "You just give off that vibe."
"I give off a 'vibe'?" Dean pretended to be offended.
"Yeah!"
"Well ... you give off a stuck-up vibe."
"I do not!"
Dean laughed, leaning his head back a bit as he did so "Whatever. Hey! Can I have your number real quick? I figure if we do this we'd better go all out." Castiel put his number in Dean's phone as they they stood outside his history class.
"Thanks," Dean said as he turned to leave. He hesitated, then turned back to Castiel and gave him another chaste peck on the lips before heading off to his own first period.
As soon as Castiel took his usual seat, he got a text from Dean, and he was too busy responding and being down right giddy to notice the whispers and lingering stares.
The day progressed, but the extacy that Castiel felt from having Dean Winchester officially ask him out, soon wore off, and he was back to being his usual anxious self. He wasn't so much anxious about what people thought of him, at least, that's what he told himself, but he was more worried about what people would think of Dean, and how Dean would handle everything.
By the end of fourth period, Castiel was about ready to puke his guts out, and was so relieved to go to lunch. Castiel put his earbuds in and pressed play on his favorite playlist that had just the right amount of angst. The opening chords to his favorite song was playing, and he felt some tension bleed out of his shoulders. She came to me in rows of white, in the corner of my room...
Castiel felt better and better as the music allowed him to drown out the sounds and general feeling of the school. By the time Castiel reached his usual table, the sounds of Green Day filling his ears, he was much more relaxed.
He slid into his chair quietly, his friends chattering excitedly about something or other, allowing him to go mostly unnoticed. Castiel loved his friends, but that did not mean he was ready to explain to them everything that had happened that morning.
Castiel focused intently on his music and lunch, so he failed to notice when Kevin's excited babble stopped short as someone approached the table. His three friends turned to look, Castiel still oblivious, as Dean came up behind Castiel quietly. Before Castiel had time to react, Dean slid his arms around his waist and placed a kiss of the side of the other boy's neck.
Castiel jumped, both from being brought back to reality, and from the unexpected contact. He turned around to see Dean, who was hooking his foot around a chair and pulling it up to the table.
"Hey, Cas, how's it going?" Dean asked, smiling.
"Um, fine. How are you?" Castiel nervously flicked his eves between his clasped hands in his lap and Dean's face. Dean's happy expression faltered just a bit, as he read the discomfort that Castiel was obviously feeling.
"Hey, what's wrong? I thought we were good after this morning." Dean furrowed his brows while he waited for Castiel's answer.
"Yeah, I don't know. I guess I just got myself worked up again. People were talking about us, and I thought that maybe you would get freaked out and then not want to be together anymore, and I don't actually know if we are together, because we hadn't really talked about that and-" he was cut off by Dean's soft laughter. "What?"
"You do that a lot, don't you?" Dean responded with a fond smile.
"Do what?"
"Ramble," Dean answered as though it was the most obvious thing in the world.
Rachel chose this moment to pipe up, "Yes, he does, but only when he's anxious." Dean looked a little startled at the realization that other people were there, and that they were hearing the conversation, but he quickly recovered and twisted his mouth into a lopsided grin.
"Well," Dean began, "I don't know what I need to do to get it into that thick skull of yours that I really do like you, a lot, but if you can think of something, let me know."
Castiel has no idea how to respond to such a declaration, even though this was not the first time Dean had said it. For some reason, it just felt more real this time.
At a loss for what else to do, Castiel smiled shyly and patted Dean's leg awkwardly. Dean pretended that he didn't feel the awkwardness, and took Castiel's hand in his own, scooting his chair over more so that the boys' shoulders were brushing. Castiel's smile deepened and he closed his eyes, leaning into Dean's touch.
Castiel's friends stared in awe of the scene in front of them for a few moments before starting the conversation up again. Castiel listened without really paying attention. He was a little surprised to find that Dean could contribute to some topic that Castiel himself didn't understand, but was happy nonetheless.
After Dean being silent for several minutes, he leaned over to Castiel's ear and whispered, "Will you come over to my house after school? No funny business; we'll just hang out, watch some movies or something."
Castiel's stomach tightened just a little from nerves, but he smiled and nodded all the same. Dean's face practically lit up, and he gave Castiel's hand a little squeeze before he dropped it to wrap his arm around the smaller boy's shoulders instead. Castiel nuzzled closer to Dean, feeling genuinely happy.
The bell signaling the end of lunch sounded all too soon, and Castiel left with Dean's arm still tightly around his shoulders. They walked to Castiel's now mostly clean locker without saying much. When they got there, Castiel opened his locker and grabbed his books, before turning to face Dean shyly.
"Okay so I'll meet you here after school. We'll go to my car, then go pick up my brother, then go back to my house. Sound good?" Dean asked.
"Yes, Dean." Castiel bit his lip.
"Alright. See you in a couple hours." Dean kissed Catstiel quickly, before turning in the opposite direction.
Castiel went through the rest of the day in a haze of nerves and excitement, but mostly excitement. Castiel had never been one to fantasize about having a relationship in high school, but when he had, his fantasies were never about blowjobs or fucking each other's brains out, but about cuddling, and absentminded touches, and a boy who really liked him. And it looked like he was about to get that.
Not nearly soon enough, the day was over and Castiel was practically running to his locker to put his things away. When he got there, he saw Dean was already there, waiting.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel said as he neared the other boy.
"Hey Cas. You ready to go?" Dean looked very excited.
"Let me put a few things away and then I will be ready." Dean moved out of the way and Castiel practically threw his books in. "Okay, I am ready." They both grinned, and Dean grabbed Castiel's hand.
The two boys walked out of the school together, hands clasped, towards Dean's car. Castiel usually took the bus, so he rarely found himself in the parking lot. When they came within view of a beautiful black '67 Chevy Impala, Dean dropped Castiel's hand and jogged ahead. He opened the passenger side door, like a true gentleman, and held it open for the other boy. Castiel walked to the door, with a blush creeping up his neck and his head down, mumbled "Thank you," and crawled in the car. Dean shut the door behind Castiel and ran over to the driver's side and got in, himself.
He started the car, and immediately, AC/DC started blasting through the speaker. Dean blushed and Castiel laughed to himself. They both reached for the volume dial, but Castiel beat Dean to it, turning it up and making "Shook Me All Night Long" scream a little louder. Castiel sat back against his seat, letting the familiar chord progression settle into the pit of his stomach. He was about to close his eyes when, through his peripheral, he saw Dean gazing at him, mouth agape.
"What?" Castiel asked, suddenly self-conscious.
"Nothing," Dean smiled, "just never would have pegged you for an AC/DC fan. You're just full of surprises, aren't you, Cas?"
Castiel adopted an uneven grin in that moment, "I guess so. I assumed you'd be into this kind of stuff; you have the whole grunge, angsty look down perfectly."
Dean huffed a laugh, and backed out of the parking space. Slowly, Dean began to tap along to the rhythm of the song on the steering wheel. After a few moments, Dean was humming, then singing quietly, and soon, he was belting out the lyrics and pretending to play the guitar as well.
Castiel couldn't help but admit that Dean had a nice voice; it was deep, but he tried to hit the high notes anyway, and he was so enthusiastic that Castiel found himself singing along, too, albeit quietly. By the time that they pulled up to the middle school parking lot, the music was as loud as it could go, and both boys were singing into their clenched fists like they were microphones.
The tape ended, and they both laughed at themselves and each other. Castiel laid his hand over Dean's subconsciously, both still laughing. When they settled down, neither boy moved to separate themselves from one another. Dean took his free hand to put a Led Zeppelin tape in, and Castiel unbuckled his seat belt to scoot closer to Dean on the bench seat, and leaned his head against the taller boy's shoulder.
Castiel looked up at Dean, "Tell me if anything I do is annoying you."
"Cas there's nothing you cou-" Dean was cut off with his own gasp as Castiel began to place gentile kisses along his jaw line. Castiel reveled in the way that Dean's barely-there stubble felt against his lips.
Castiel worked along Dean's jaw, from lips to ear. He moved to the sensitive spot right below Dean's ear, running his teeth along it before sucking it. He continued to place open mouth kisses all down the neck, stopping to pay extra attention to the pulse point, loving the feeling of pure life that he felt under there.
"Cas" Dean whispered, sounding overwhelmed in the best possible way. Castiel made his way down to the hollow between Dean's collar bones. He licked the light perspiration that had gathered there, moving his hands to Dean's collar to begin undoing his buttons.
Castiel jumped away from Dean when they heard the bell sound inside the school. They both sat, startled, for a moment, before Castiel smiled shyly up at Dean.
Dean grinned, like, absolutely beamed at Castiel, and took the other boy's hand. They sat there, in comfortable silence, save the sweet sounds of Robert Plant's voice, waiting for Dean's kid brother to come out.
When he finally did, the youngest Winchester looked a little taken aback by the sight of someone in, what was presumably, his seat. He made his way to the back passenger side door, threw his backpack in, and slid in after.
"Hey Sammy," Dean said cheerfully, "this is Cas."
Sam's eyes widened. "Cas? The Cas?" Castiel nodded, confused and failing to notice the blush creeping up Dean's neck, before Sam continued, "Well, nice to meet you, man! You're all Dean has been talking about for the past week. So glad he finally got up the balls to talk to you. Did he ask you out? Cuz if not then, Dean, now's your cue."
Castiel's face broke into a huge, and rare, grin, and he began laughing when he saw how red Dean's ears were.
"Yes, Sam, Dean asked me out," Castiel responded.
"Well thank God! I don't think I could have taken his bitching much longer. I mean, it was all 'Cas this' and 'Cas that' and 'Why doesn't Cas love me' and 'have you seen Cas' a-'" Sam's rant was interrupted as Dean threw a pack of gum in Sam's face. Dean grumbled something about "screw little brothers" and drove away from the school. Castiel, on the other hand, could not for the life of him stop laughing.
The three boys sat in the car, just listening to music, as they made their way to the Winchester residence. When they pulled up in the driveway, Castiel gathered his things from where they sat at his feet, only to look up and see Dean opening his door for him, again.
"Thank you," Castiel smiled, feeling bashful all of the sudden. Dean smiled right back, and lead the way inside the house. He opened the door for Castiel, and Castiel followed Sam into the house.
The first thing that Castiel noticed when he stepped in was that, for two teenage boys, it was very nice. Clean. It could be considered modest, but it was still decent sized. As Castiel walked in through the front door, he saw that five steps lead down to a common area. The living room, dining room and kitchen were all in the same general area. The dining room and living area had simple hardwood floors, but the living room had an area rug. The small kitchen area was tiled, darker than the hardwood. There was very little dust on the shelves, the counter top in the kitchen was clean, the entryway had no mud, it looked like everything was in its place. Castiel was very impressed.
Sam set his backpack down on a chair close to the dining room table. Sam then walked into the kitchen, opened the fridge, and grabbed a soda. Castiel followed, pulling out a stool from the kitchen counter and taking a seat. Suddenly, Castiel remembered that he was in Dean Winchester's house and he could not figure out what to do with his hands. In the back of his mind, Castiel noticed his shoulders slowly tense and creep up towards his ears as Dean shut the door and joined them in the kitchen.
"Can I get you anything to drink Cas?" Dean asked, and his voice seemed nervous, too.
"Um, water please?" Castiel replied quietly. Dean seemed to relax at the thought of having something to do. Sam then cleared his throat.
"Dean? I'm gonna go to my room and do homework. Call me for dinner?"
"Okay, Sammy," Dean replied.
"Okay, thanks. Cas, it was really nice to meet you." Sam finished.
"It was nice to meet you as well, Sam," Castiel replied as Sam made his way up the stairs. And then it was just the two boys. Dean slid Castiel's water across the counter to the other boy, and then looked down at his hands. Castiel nodded and took a small sip. He was not actually thirsty, but he felt that he had needed to ask Dean to get him something. Castiel bit his lower lip and wrung his hands.
"So, Cas, do you like popcorn?" Dean asked suddenly.
Castiel furrowed his eyebrows and tilted his head to the side, perplexed by Dean's question, "Um, sure. Why do you ask?"
Dean smiled, and started rummaging through the cabinets. He came away with a package of microwave popcorn. He tore off the plastic wrapping, stuck the bag in the microwave, and pressed a button before turning to Castiel again.
"Well," Dean began, rubbing his neck, "I was thinking that maybe we could go watch a movie in my room."
Castiel smiled through his nerves, "That sounds fine, Dean."
Dean looked very relieved that Castiel agreed to this. Dean walked over to where he had put his backpack. He rummaged around for a moment, before pulling out a nice Mac Book. He brought the computer over to the counter, and then crouched down, moving things around in the cabinet. He reappeared holding a white, plastic bowl.
By the time that Dean had gathered all these items, the microwave sounded, signaling that the popcorn was done. Dean grabbed the bag out of the microwave, and dumped its contents into the plastic bowl. He passed the bowl to Castiel.
Castiel picked up the bowl and went to stand beside Dean. Dean slid his arm around Castiel's waist, smiled nervously, and then led him upstairs. Dean opened the door to what was, presumably, his room, holding it open for Castiel to go in ahead.
Dean's room was just like the rest of the house; surprisingly pristine. His bed was wedged into a corner in the back left corner of the room. Next to the bed, was a tall wooden dresser. The wall that was opposite the bed was taken up mostly by a window, looking over the neighborhood. There were no spare things lying round on the floor, but even so, Dean found things to put away, self consciously.
While Dean busied himself trying to make the room more perfect than it was already, Castiel found himself feeling awkward. He didn't know where he should stand, or what he should do with himself. Castiel decided that he looked super awkward standing in the middle of the room, so he made the decision to sit on Dean's bed.
Dean kept moving things around the room, and Castiel kept trying to figure out the best way to sit without looking weird. He sat so his back was against the headboard, and moved his hands to rest on his thighs, then at his sides, then he crossed them over his chest.
Dean stopped his own fidgeting, and picked up his laptop from where he'd placed it on the floor, and set it at Castiel's feet. Castiel moved so that his knees were bent, and there was about a foot and a half of space between his feet. Dean sat sideways on the bed, and he opened the sleek laptop.
"What do you want to watch?" Dean asked.
"Pick one of your favorites," Castiel replied, smiling. Dean thought for a moment, but then his eyes lit up with excitement. He began clicking away on his keyboard, and Castiel watched him absentmindedly. This felt good; Castiel was here with a boy he liked, who was sweet enough to create Castiel's perfect afternoon.
Dean clicked on one of the titles in his Netflix account, and then he clicked the button to enlarge the screen. Dean got off the bed to turn off the lights and shut the blinds, and Castiel saw the title "Silver Linings Playbook" flash across the screen. Dean sat on the bed in between Castiel's feet, and laid his head on Castiel's chest.
For a moment, Castiel panicked. He, once again, did not know what to do with his hands, and he was worried that any move he would make would be wrong. Castiel tried infinitely hard to focus on the music that was coming from the computer, instead of his own racing heart. Dean reached for Castiel's hand, clasping it in his own.
"Is this okay, Cas?" Dean asked, and he looked genuinely concerned.
Castiel took a deep breath, and closed his eyes. He took his free hand and ran it through Dean's hair. He focused on the way the soft locks felt in between his fingers. He focused on the way that Dean's head pressed against his chest, and the way that Dean's fingers felt in between his own. Slowly, Castiel began to feel better.
"Yes, Dean. This is good." Castiel opened his eyes to see Dean's emerald ones looking up at him, and smiling.
"Okay, Cas. Let me know if that changes.
"I will."
Both boys turned back to the computer screen, and watched Bradly Cooper appear and make some reference about football. Castiel smiled to himself, and remembered that everything would be okay.
He was with a sweet boy who did everything he could to make Castiel feel safe. This boy would calm Castiel down, reassure him constantly, because this boy liked Castiel just as much as Castiel liked him. Castiel never was comfortable with physical contact, but with Dean, Castiel knew even that was okay.
