Warnings for this chapter: homophobic language, swearing, bullying.
* xxx xxx (double divider) means flashback/end flashback
"Boy! You need to go to school!" Bobby called from the room downstairs. Dean cracked an eye open due to the extreme shrill in his ears. He lifted up his hand and turned his head. Was it Wednesday yet?
His eyes opened up again. His body was warm and sore. When Dean actually was able to feel things again, his arm was underneath something soft and hot. Tilting his chin so that he could get a look at whatever it was, he paused and smirked.
There was a girl sleeping soundly half on top of his chest with a soft expression on her face; make up slightly smeared, bedhead hair. She was cute, but fuck… What was her name again?
He shifted his weight to get her attention. She opened her light chocolaty brown eyes and smiled. The brunette boy smiled at her; she was a cute girl, so why couldn't he put a name on the face?
"Hey Dean," she said and lifted herself up, exposing her naked chest to Dean's hungry eyes and pressed her plump lips to the boy's.
"Morning," he responded. He made a pause as if to insert her name after, but he couldn't find it in him, so he decided on a pet name instead. "Sweetheart. How was your sleep?"
"Perfect," she responded with a cute smile on her cupid bow shaped lips. "And yours?"
"Awesome," he responded with excited eyes. She bit her lip and eyed him seductively, and she essentially gave him the okay to fuck her again, if it weren't for the angry old coot downstairs shouting for him to get his lazy ass out of bed.
Dean gave her one last once over before he scratched the back of his neck and got out of the bed. Yeah, so maybe now wasn't the best of times for thank kind of thing.
"Fuck…" he muttered. "What day is it?" Perhaps had he not gotten so hammered last night and picked up the first girl he saw at a friend of his back to school party, he wouldn't have such a pounding headache or, I don't know, possibly know what day of the week it was.
"Tuesday. Second week of school," she responded with a quirky laugh as she got out of the bed. She was tall with a supermodel thin body. She slid on her panties and short jean skirt and then her bra.
As she was buttoning up her blouse, Dean had to ask, "What's your name again?"
Bad move. Her whole face fell and she looked on the verge of crying. "Tessa Rhea. We're in the same fourth period class… Remember?" She looked incredibly hurt. It occurred to Dean that it was a little strange he didn't recognize her—he notices a nice rack when he sees one.
But then again, yeah, uh, Dean doesn't exactly remember yesterday, no less over a week ago. Oh, so this was the chick that got made fun of for her creepy last name.
On the first day of school, some thugs had been fucking around with his little brother and although Dean knew for a fact that Sam could hold his own, he didn't like the disrespect they were showing him and started throwing punches. Eventually teachers had gotten involved, and in the heat of the moment, Dean had accidentally punched Mr. Lee, the vice-principal.
So, yeah, suspended for five days. Technically he was allowed to go back to school, like, yesterday, but Dean had lied to Bobby and told him he got another day off so he stayed home and nursed his Sunday night hangover.
This hangover was nothing like the worst ones he'd ever had—trust him on that. Dean was a full-fledged alcoholic and he wasn't even eighteen until last month. He didn't really care about anything that included his health; he smokes daily and fucks women and the occasional male, although rare, (is much more pleasurable). When Dean thought about it, he accepted himself being bisexual and could even go as far as calling himself gay. But when other people brought it up… That was a different story.
There was just something that Dean found so fucking sexy in guys rather than girls. A typical girl (that Dean goes for anyway): blonde or brunette, occasionally Asian, tits, ass, pussy. But with guys, there was just something about seeing them writhe beneath him and allow their masculinity to be ripped from them. Especially fucking a virgin homo—those assholes were absolutely to die for.
"Alright, well, I have to take a shower," Dean said, realizing he was the only naked one in the room. Tessa looked ashamed of herself and picked up her bag, not making eye contact, and left, muttering a 'See you around' line and dipping out the door right as Bobby was walking down the hall.
"What the fuck's her issue?" he asked and turned his head to look inside to see Dean still completely undressed and not even embarrassed. "Son of a—Dean! Cover your damn junk when I'm around!" he cried.
Dean held his hands up in protest. "Shut up, Bobby. You think I'm hot."
"No I don't, yah prick!"
"Not his fault he has no idea when you're planning to prowl around and check in on him," said Sam who just exited the bathroom along with a big puff of steam from the shower and a white towel tied around his waist. Dean smiled widely at his little brother from down the hall.
The two brothers were closer than anyone, but they couldn't sleep together—rather, in the same room. Though they loved each other more than anything, they argued like an old married couple when held in close quarters for more than an hour. So they had worked out that the boys would get the two rooms upstairs while Bobby gets the master bedroom downstairs away from the bickering boys (and closer to the kitchen).
"You want to get dressed so we can actually get to school on time for once?" Sam asked in that bitchy tone that he had picked up from God-knows-where.
"Hey Sammy, calm your tits. I have to take a shower."
"Hey Dean, I don't actually have tits, I'm a male. So hurry the fuck up."
"Oh, sure you are. I believe you." That earned Dean a bitchface.
Bobby shook his head and walked down the stairs. "Alright princesses, Dean if you aren't out of bed by seven thirty and down by seven forty-five in the mornings, you don't get to take your car. And Sam stop nagging him, makin' my head hurt."
Dean was about to complain but Bobby turned and looked at him, pointing a finger at him.
"Yeah, fine Bobby."
Dean spanked Sam's towel clad ass as he walked past his little brothers room and entered the bathroom with his teal blue towel in hand. Before Sam could scream at him, Dean turned the lock and turned the shower on. He smirked triumphantly.
Exiting the shower, Dean looked at himself in the mirror when he returned into his own room. His hair was dripping still, but he had a military cut, meaning extremely short on the sides and longer on the top. It was short so it would dry quickly. Over his chest he had one tattoo. Of course, he had more but only one was special enough to put over his chest. His buddy Garth had done it for him when he was sixteen (making him possibly the coolest boy at his school for having one so early) after his adoptive mother, Karen, had died. It was a symbol of a star inside a sun and it had been Karen's family crest from Scotland or something from way back when, but his brother also had a matching one.
He pulled a navy tee over and slid on a pair of worn jeans that he would soon need to replace, but for now were in the sweet spot between totally new and totally ratty. Tight enough to make his ass look sweet and long enough to roll them up a bit at the bottom. Dean slid on a black leather belt and grabbed his cell phone from the charger by his bed, hoping the maid was coming today to clean his shithole room.
The blond haired boy arrived downstairs and grabbed some toast that Sam had made for him and swiped his keys from the kitchen counter before grabbing his leather jacket and throwing it in the back seat of his baby, his one and only—his 1967 Chevy Impala—the one that would always be there for him. Sam took a second, gathering his stuff and sticking it into his backpack and pushing it into the foot space by the passenger seat.
Dean turned her on and revved the engine, pulling out of Bobby's driveway with ease and roaring down the street towards their school. It was bright outside, looking up to be a hot day. His signature leather jacket would probably have to stay in the backseat for the day.
xxx xxx
Dean was four and Sam three when their mother Mary died in a tragic house fire. It was honestly a one in eight million of a chance, but it happened to them, and they knew they needed to move on. Shortly after this happened, as Dean can hardly remember it, their father, John Winchester, had resorted to drinking and taking advantage of drugs. Dean was almost five when the man had pushed a half-awake Dean and carried a nearly four-year-old Sam into the car.
Dean stared at the back of his father's dark head from the backseat, holding his arms tightly and possessively around his baby brother who was beginning to stir and cry.
"Where are we going? Daddy, I'm 'cared."
John thrust open the door and all but scooped Dean out of the car in front of an orphanage just three miles out of town. The strangest part, however, was when he got back in and drove off. Dean remembered feeling the prickly feeling of tears welling up behind his eyes but held strong as he cooed to his little brother. A door slammed open behind them and Dean made eye contact with a matronly woman who stood in the doorway with a knowing—although crestfallen—look on her face.
Although the feeling was bursting inside of him, Dean would not cry. The skinny blond boy only held his little brother tighter to his chest and glared at the woman.
In truth, the experience at the orphanage hadn't been so terrible. There was good food, warm beds, plenty of play time with his little brother—and that was probably the reason that Dean was so protective of Sam, they had gone through so much together what with a drug abusing father and then living for almost a year in an orphanage, keeping to their selves and not making any other friends.
They were lucky, though. Small, cute, charismatic boys were popular. Couples wanted a young boy, (as creepy as that sounds), but when they found out that there was another one in the family, they didn't have it in them to pick and leave the other alone, but couldn't afford to adopt two at once. In spite of that, once Karen and Bobby Singer came around, the two boys saw a light at the end of the tunnel.
Karen was unable to conceive and Bobby had always wanted little boys. They were older at the time, in their early forties when they realized it was too late to have their own, they resorted to adoption.
The four of them lived ten years together—it had been hard at first adjusting to the small things at their house. Things like sitting down to pee, use manners when eating, no roughhousing inside, etc. But ten years had gone by fast and Karen had gotten sick; she went to the doctors one day to return with the news that she had lung cancer. Just like that.
It was quick after that, and she died within the year. Bobby had been terrible with the loss of his wife; after all they had been married happily for almost thirty-five years. More than anything the Winchester boys, who had kept their last names despite their adoption papers, were fearful that the same thing would happen to Bobby that happened to their own dad.
To some degree, Bobby was alike him. But he had typically already been a drunk. Just at this point, he would be a drunk outside, too. He was arrested many times after she died, but the local police department would usually turn a blind eye and take him home because everyone in town had loved Karen Singer and her famous apple pies.
And—don't even get Dean started on those.
xxx xxx
Why were there so many hot chicks at his school but his stupid brain refused to remember any of their names?
Gabe was practically waiting for Sam when Dean parked in the teachers' parking lot, ignoring the many complaints he got from the principal. The golden-brown haired boy was laughing and stuttering, trying to tell something to Sam but tripping over himself as he was talking.
"Spit it out, Gabe," Sam demanded.
"D—dude! I'm trying! I just—fuck—can't! It's about Castiel!"
"Who is that?" Dean asked. Perhaps one of these nameless girls—or maybe that name belonged to a new female student? God, he could never get over new girls fawning over him. He was a scumbag for treating them with so much attention and love for about a week or maybe if they're interesting a month, it varies, and once he gets it in, he's done.
"Uh, just this new guy—"
"Let me meet him," Dean demanded, pulling a pack of Marlboro Red out of his back pocket and sliding a cigarette out. He lit it and in inhaled deeply, ignoring the annoyed look he got from his little brother as he leaned against the hood of his baby. Gabe was light enough where he could just take a seat on her hood and not put a dent in it. Sam, on the other hand, was not allowed anywhere near his baby's bonnet.
"Sure, he's really cool—hey let me get some you fuckin' hog," Gabriel said, snapping the cigarette out of Dean's mouth and taking a hit. "Guess who is interested in him?"
"Who?" Sam asked, leaning against some teacher's car, careful to not let the alarm go off.
"Anna Milton." The Gabe burst out laughing and Sam's jaw dropped.
Dean groaned. "Are you fucking around? 'Cause so help me God, Gabe—"
"Calm down, cocksucker. I'm telling the truth." Gabe's eyes turned excited again and he looked at Sam. "Dude, she wants the dick so bad."
"Have they met?" Sam inquired.
Anna Milton was pretty much the Regina George of their school. She was smart, athletic, charismatic, had the best fucking body a girl could ask for. Dean and Anna had fucked on more than one occasion, the first time in the backseat of his Impala. And sue him if he was wrong, but she was one of his best lays.
When they had dated for almost three months last year, Dean had been king of the school, and Anna his queen. But their mutual attraction had faded and they good naturedly agreed to still be friends. Like that ever works. She got popular fast when she started dishing out shit about Dean. When word got around that Dean had a baby dick, he was furious with her.
"Damn, she could get anyone she wanted. Cas is pretty good looking, though," Sam admitted.
"Yeah, if I wasn't as straight as a ruler he would be the first guy I'd fuck," Gabe agreed. Dean laughed and Sam hit him with the back of his hand on Gabriel's stomach.
Okay—butseriously—who the fuck was this Cas—Castiel guy? New student and hot were the only details he had acquired so far, and he was hungry for more.
"We all know you would do anything to suck cock," Sam said, and Dean agreed with his little brother as Gabe glared at the two of them hatefully. Glancing at his watch, Sam groaned. "We're going to be late. We should go."
Dean finished his cigarette and stamped it out, heading into the school.
They headed in through the huge black iron gates, but a hand stopped Dean on his chest. He looked down beside him and saw vice principal Mr. Lee and rolled his eyes.
"Mr. Winchester? Is that smoke I smell?" the man asked. He was in his mid thirties and had a plaid button down and black slacks.
"Of course that's what you smell. Why even give me the benefit of the doubt? I'm eighteen," Dean spoke in a cynical tone then proceeded to continue on his way as Mr. Lee started shouting that there was an absolutely no tolerance smoking rule at the school, but honestly what school didn't have that rule?
Dean was on his way to his locker to get out a notebook or maybe just a pencil, he never had the chance to even put his textbooks in there so he doubted Sammy had magically dropped off some school supplies. He was in the industrial building and kids were scurrying to their classes before their teachers could mark them absent, so Dean had to wind his way through clumsy students.
Some redheaded girl bumped into Dean's chest after turning a hard corner and let out a loud squeak.
"Ex-fucking-scuse you?" Dean asked angrily and shot her a harsh glare before continuing on his way down the hall she muttered a quick sorry and then grabbed his wrist. Dean hadn't been expecting this, but when her (surprisingly) strong grip caused the brunette boy to whirl around in the grip and meet eyes with strong azure blue ones, he was momentarily confused. "Who are you?"
"Apologize to her." The two of them stood there for a beat, the boy glaring mercilessly and Dean caught almost completely off guard. "You were the one that ran into her, do it," the dark haired boy demanded. But fuck, Dean was in a daze. This kid was fucking gorgeous. Dark and messy sex hair, deep azure glaring eyes at Dean. He didn't exactly get a chance to completely check the boy out, but Dean was satisfied with the face.
"Apologize—what? Hell no. Fuck off, brat, you're going to be late," Dean said and rolled his eyes, turning away when he still felt that tight grip on his wrist. God, how did this thin boy have such a grasp? "Get the fuck off!"
"Boys? Is there a problem?" An older woman who appeared to be some teacher asked, approaching them.
The redhead girl gripped the blue-eyed boy's bicep and tried to pull him away. "Come on, forget him. We are going to be late."
"No," Dean responded to her and hastily yanked the boy's hand off of his wrist. The teacher continued on, nodding as she passed them and went into her own classroom. The two boys continued their staring match before Dean spoke again. "I asked you a question."
"It's none of your business," the unruly haired boy responded, realigning his shoulders and turning to the girl. He shot Dean one last glare before he turned the corner and disappeared.
Dean was utterly shocked when he felt like he wanted to run after the guy and simultaneously make out with him and punch him in the face.
xXx
Arriving in his first period math class just two minutes late, Dean sat down next to his friends Benny, Victor, and just after he entered, so did Ruby. She smirked when she saw her friend Dean sitting in his usual spot (they both had the same teacher the prior year but were in a different class) in the room.
She smiled deviously and slid into the seat next to Dean, exclaiming, "You're back, asshole!" in which made Dean chuckle and punch her on the arm.
"Fuck off, slut. You missed the shit out of me," Dean said, smirking and pulling his phone out of his butt pocket.
"Yeah, it was boring terrorizing this school with the fat pussy behind you," Ruby joked, popping a piece of gum into her mouth and winking at Benny who just glared at her.
"Seriously? I mean—yeah, fucking thanks for taking your time coming back, you ass. I had to deal with the bitch of the year when you were gone!" Benny cried in his southern accent. It was funny how all of them lived in the south, Louisiana for Christ's sake, and hardly any of them had as thick of an accent as Benny, although that doesn't mean that it's not there. If Dean or Ruby wanted to, they could drawl all sorts of different accents.
Dean and Victor laughed. Victor was the quiet of the four, but he was the one who always was there to guide the four of them out of trouble. Although he was a smoker and underage drinker, he was a straight-A student and aspired to be a cop or special agent detective when he grew up.
"What about Vicky?" Dean asked, gesturing to Victor who rolled his eyes at the childish nickname.
"He left me high and dry with her. Hung out with Raphael and Gordon to get away from her!" Benny added.
"Hey! We had fun," Ruby persisted, crossing her arms over her chest, pouting now.
Ruby was a really pretty girl… in a dark way, Dean supposed. He had originally been attracted to her when she first transferred schools late last year, but he got to know her and wow did that ware off fast. Kidding. Mostly.
A bond grew between them, both being orphaned—her parents had given her up when she was two and she lived with her aunt now—and once they figured out that they were a lot alike, they grew to become closer. All summer they hung out, but they didn't like to bring up their pasts much. There was kind of a mutual silent agreement that it was to be kept hidden and act like it really wasn't even there, their memories.
The door opened and most everyone who didn't have headphones on craned their neck so that they could get a look at the last to arrive—Anna Milton. Of course there were her friends who followed after her like little hungry puppies; Joanna Harvelle—hot, blonde, throws the best parties since she has pretty much an endless supply of alcohol because her mom runs a bar downtown—and Bela Talbot. Bela was something all together. She had originally had the hots for Dean's little brother, but after Dean and her had hooked up one night at a party (probably Jo's) Sam was out of the picture. And ever since that night, like, half a year ago in January, she's been on Dean's dick.
Not literally, because Dean likes to take pride in girls who he fucks.
Bela Talbot was nothing short of beautiful what with her long brown hair and big brown eyes. She had a sexy body, too, and a full ride scholarship to one of those ivy-league universities that her daddy was happy so proud of her for.
She was (and is) just not really Dean's cup of tea.
But Anna Milton was… What adjective would be appropriate for this context? She was saintly, meritorious. Whiter than white. Long red hair—not wiry orange or red like that weird girl Dean had bumped into earlier that clearly dyed hers—and almond shaped green eyes behind long dark lashes and high cheekbones.
And the fact that he had dated her just a year ago and things had gone stale was no reason to feel jealous that she had a little baby crush on some new prick. Dean wasn't jealous, though. He hadn't even met the guy. Anna had extremely high standards, so maybe he was worth more than a glare or a glance over.
Plus, what with Dean's relatively new sexual preferences, maybe this could get a little interesting.
Like they always seemed to, Anna and Dean made eye contact upon her entrance. Not as awkward as it seemed, they watched each other as Anna made her way over to her seat in the front, the front of all they eyes. Their eye contact finally broke when she sat down and Jo brought up some conversation with her.
Dean snapped out of it and turned back to Ruby who looked annoyed. Yeah, he got caught checking out his hot ex-girlfriend again. Sue him.
xXx
"You are the coolest guy I know, Cas," Charlie gushed as we passed the corner and entered our first period art class. I rolled my eyes.
"Your sarcasm does not impress me, Charlie," I said tiredly. We sat down and she looked at me with a serious face.
"Castiel… I'm not fucking around. At this school, my friends and I are all pretty much known as, well, band geeks—not that we even are involved in band at all—and people like Dean Winchester don't give us a second glance, not giving a rat's ass if we collide or get tripped or… Castiel, you don't understand how much I admire you."
I shot her a sidelong glance. "Oh stop. You're making me blush," I said and chuckled, opening that still empty notebook I had and picked up a pencil that I found off the floor and began to draw.
A sudden hand lay down on my wrist. "I know we just met like one day ago, but…" she bit her lip, her cheeks flaming red like her eclectic hair. "I really envy you, you know."
Her eyes became glossy and my breathing slowed down considerably.
"You're everything I want to be. Independent, strong-willed, down-to-earth… I mean like, I'm fine with being who I am, it's just homophobic parents and all make me kinda wish that things were a little different."
This definitely caught my attention and I swallowed slowly. "You're lesbian?"
"Flamingly so, I'm afraid," she said with a small smile.
I furrowed my brows and finally just shrugged. "Well why then don't you have a girlfriend? You're cool and artistic and funny… There should be chicks lining down the block for you."
"That's the thing, Cas. I'm not like you. I'm shy and I have low self-esteem and I'm socially retarded. I've never even met another lesbian before," she bit her lip, looking up at me with big watery eyes.
"Maybe you should just hang out with me more and you might be able to pick up some tips," I said with an over exaggerated wink. "Shut up. Don't cry. You're awesome and eventually your boobs will grow larger and bitches will be dying to fuck you."
Charlie laughed and hit my arm. "Fuck off, you ass!"
"Ow, get your man hands off of me!" I screamed until the creepy art teacher walked up to us and asked us to use our indoor voices or we would have to sit in the closet. It's safe to say we hardly spoke the rest of the period.
xXx
Nancy didn't make that big of an effort to get my attention today in statistics, but she did try to strike up conversations with me occasionally which I usually just pretended that I couldn't hear her, explaining that I had gotten into a car accident when I was younger and my hearing has never been the same since. It was absolute bullshit but she seemed to fall for it easily so I went with it until she began screaming her conversations to me and I burst out laughing.
Russian Honors four was fun again with Gabriel and Sam, and they asked if I was free for lunch again, which I was—and actually grateful that they brought it up—except Sam had plans with someone else so Gabe and I would get some alone time to get to know each other better or something.
At once point Mrs. Karolina called on me and asked me to bring a stack of papers over to Ms. Oskova' classroom in which forced me to begrudgingly accept. Sam and Gabriel burst out laughing and told me good luck as I was getting out of my seat and leaving the room. The woman's classroom was downstairs so I didn't have to walk very far, thankfully.
Ms. Oskova was in the middle of the lesson but stopped abruptly when her eyes caught sight of me standing in the doorway with the papers in hand.
"Privet, molodoy chelovek!" she cried, exclaiming 'hello, young man!' All eyes were on me suddenly and I decided I didn't like it, so I hurriedly approached her and handed over the papers and turned to leave when she stopped me and asked me a question in Russian.
One question turned into four, and then seven. What's your name, young man? Wow, your accent is perfect, how long have you been learning Russian? Oh, born in Russia? How profound! Do you tutor? Some of my students could really use a fluent tutor because… So lazy! When did you move…? She went on.
At on point during the interrogation, I moved the focus of my eyes from her young face to someone who looked like they were having a good time in the front row. And I'll be damned… It was the boy Charlie ran into earlier and I demanded his apology, but then that piece of shit teacher came over and the prick never did.
A name came to mind… Charlie had mentioned a name—I knew it, just couldn't remember it. D—Dane? Yeah, that was definitely it.
Dane winked at me and held a smug grin. His beefy arms were crossed over the desk and that navy blue tee he was wearing left absolutely nothing to the imagination. I guessed that was the idea.
I shot him a disgusted glare and turned back to the teacher who was staring at me expectantly.
"Izvinite—chto?" I asked, apologizing and asking her to repeat the question.
She just chuckled and waved her hand, explaining that she knew I had to get back to my class so she shouldn't bother me any more. Without another glance at the Dane boy, I nodded and walked out of the classroom.
Upon entrance, Sam and Gabe laughed. "Did she fucking talk your ear off?" Gabriel asked and I shot my eyes open and sighed dramatically.
"Yeah, it was torturous. I didn't know it was possible to talk so much," I admitted jokingly. Another question rolled around in my mouth and I was slightly nervous to ask. "Do either of you know of this guy called Dane? Tall, douche-y, looks like straight off the front page of GQ?"
Sam's brows furrowed and he lolled his tongue around in his mouth. "Dane?"
Gabriel smiled. "I know plenty of Danes, but none fitting that last description."
"What colour eyes did he have?" Sam asked suddenly and both of us turned to face him.
I searched back in my memory to when he pushed Charlie out of the way and, fuck it was hard but… I grabbed his wrist and twirled him around like a little ballet dancer and we were face to face… There were freckles, straight teeth, and emerald green eyes.
"Green."
Sam slapped the desk. "Aha. You mean Dean. As in, Dean Winchester."
Gabe laughed. "And here's the great part!"
"That would be my tall, douche-y, GQ brother."
Castiel's jaw dropped in shock. "Fuck, you're joking. How can you be related to such a Neanderthal?" I asked, suddenly remembering that this was his brother I was talking to. Sam cocked his head to the side and Gabe continued to laugh. "I mean, you're like, I dunno, a decent human being? And Dean just doesn't give a flying fuck about anyone. As far as I know," I quickly added at the end.
"Don't judge a book by its cover, Cassie," Gabe warned, pointing a finger at me as he pulled a workbook out of his book bag.
"I'm not, I'm judging him by how he treated my friend like shit this morning when he bumped into her and acted like we were both garbage," I argued. I sighed. "Look, I'm sorry Sam. I know we just met and this is probably me putting my worst foot forward right now but I met him this morning and he…" I drifted off, not wanting to offend Sam any more.
Sam shrugged. "I mean, he's a little rough around the edges, but Cas, mark my words—Dean will surprise you in ways you have no idea. You may just think I'm saying that to stand up for my juvenile brother but seriously? Dean can be your best friend or your worst nightmare."
"As cliché as that sounds," Gabriel added, knocking Sam in the shoulder. The bell rung and we all got up. Sam smiled and told me he would see me sixth period before he left. I turned to Gabriel who just shook his head. "Those Winchesters… They look out for each other."
xXx
I didn't see Gabe until lunch, a whole hour later. We headed to a small sandwich shop and sat down by the window where there weren't too many people walking by.
"So Cassie. What's up?" Gabriel asked as he bit into his sandwich.
A million different sarcastic or frankly asshole-y comments spurred in my mind in under one second, but I ignored everyone of them and settled on, "Not much."
It was quiet then because I hadn't reciprocated the question and I took another bite. "Hey, between you and me, tell me. You into Sam?" Gabriel asked suddenly and I choked on my Dr. Pepper.
"Ah, fuck!" I shouted, jumping out of my seat as I coughed and choked. Gabriel just sat there like the sack of shit he was and laughed his ass off at my hacking form. "Yeah, don't help me," I coughed some more, "don't worry yourself, you cunt."
"My bad man;" Gabriel still had tears in his eyes. "I was kind of worried I might pee if I stood up, no lie."
I rolled my eyes at this and sat back down in my seat to finish my sandwich. Unfortunately I had spilled Dr. Pepper over my sandwich and chips so everything was soggy and shitty.
"Answer the question—don't think your little fiasco won't distract me!" he cried. Wow, I looked around, surveying he area. We must be really obnoxious right now.
"Um, no. I'm not secretly thinking of five ways to fuck him every second," I told him, using a napkin to wipe some soda off my jeans. "Why? Are you on that?" I asked, looking up at him.
Gabriel began laughing. "I love him," he responded, a far off look in his golden eyes. "I wouldn't want to spend my life with him, though. I've known him since we were kids so if I was ever pining over him, it would've gotten out by now," he explained. "Doesn't mean I won't pretend occasionally that we're secret gay lovers to freak people out on the street."
I chuckled, nodding and took another bite. "What about his older brother?" I suggested, suddenly interested in learning more about the douche Dane-Dean from earlier.
"Dean's a homie. Honestly? I would die for that guy. But I may be biased because I grew up with him and Sam. If he were a girl I'd fuck him for sure but he's not; I don't swing that way and I actually have this life long dream to carry on my bloodline," Gabe smiled and ate more.
I swallowed a heavy lump in my throat. "Right. What's he like?"
"Interested?" he asked, cocking an arched brow.
"Wouldn't you like to know," I stated. "What, are you like the town match maker or something? Do I need to transfer to get away from you?"
"No, no. I'm just joking. I mean Sam and I hung out after school. You're bi right? Or completely gay?"
I sucked in a deep breath. "I'm whatever. I'm a man of pleasure," I said sarcastically.
Gabriel chortled. "Yeah, well. To be entirely honest, Dean's not the straightest guy around. Of course, Sam lives with the guy and he doesn't only bring chicks home. That is, when homophobic Bobby ain't around," Gabriel said with both brows raised.
"Bobby?"
"Their mom died when they were small and their dad dropped 'em off at an orphanage where they lived for like, I don't know, couple years until Bobby and Karen Singer adopted them—which was around when I met them because we lived in the same neighborhood. Then, as it worsens, Karen died two years ago and Bobby's been having a hard time. He's made it clear on many occasions that it's not okay for me to provoke Sam and Dean." He rolled his eyes.
"Provoke?" I asked for clarification.
"I make a lot of unnecessary sexual innuendos that Bobby dislikes, you know, 'cause we're all dudes. I've been thrown out of there like at least seven times." He leaned back in his chair now and stretched. "I mean honestly it's all good and fun but he just is really touchy with homosexual things. Pisses me off but he's had a shitty life so I can't really do anything.
"So Sam says he only brings dudes over when Bobby is out for the night," Gabriel says, leaning in and pushing his trash to the side as we got up.
"Does he have some super straight guy appearances he keeps up?" I asked now, curious of what would break his reputation and excited to be able to know it.
Gabriel screwed up his face and shrugged, reaching forward and drinking some of my soda before we left the establishment. "Dean? I wouldn't say so. He's popular, I mean he's up there on that ladder, but he's not exactly notorious for being the high school football star."
I stared at him blankly. We were outside now. "Go on…"
Gabe's face stilled before it relaxed and he smiled. "I dunno, why don't you ask him yourself?"
A sleek old car drove up beside us and I turned around in a one eighty to watch the window roll down.
"Get in losers, we're going shopping!" a girly voice shouted from the backseat, a quote I knew quite well from the movie Mean Girls.
A face appeared in the driver's seat and I'll be goddamned. It was Dean fucking Winchester.
"Is that little Ruby?" Gabe asked, placing his hands on his flanks with a wide smile. He approached the car and leaned over so that his head was inside the open window. "Hey, Deano, how's it goin'?"
He reached in and they both clasped hands and shook.
"Just talking about you," he added with a cheeky grin. Fuck me. Thanks a lot.
"Oh yeah? You and the Russian bitch?" he asked nodding past Gabe to where I stood, withdrawn from the conversation with my arms crossed pressed tightly to my chest and a look of utter annoyance on my face.
"That's Cas, man. Just moved here."
A look of confusion and then sudden realization dawned on Dean's scarily perfectly proportioned face (not like I wasn't going to notice something like that) and he looked straight at me. He whispered something to Gabe that I couldn't hear and the golden haired boy chuckled and nodded.
"Haven't even met yet," Gabriel said, shrugging. I looked from Gabriel's face that was now facing me too to Dean's. And fuck, I would be lying if every time I looked at the guy I didn't have a flare of white hot want coil in my belly and I had to remind myself not to stare.
"That case," Dean said, reaching over and opening the door. "Wanna ride?"
I smiled cruelly. "The school is about three blocks away. I think I can manage it," I offered.
Dean's brows rose and he laughed, "Oh, an attitude too, this just gets better by the second."
I rolled my eyes. Gabriel looked at me and then back at Dean. "Maybe another time. Cassie's right. Gotta work off that sub," he said, rubbing his stomach and closing the door. He shot Dean a cute little salute and then walked over to my side. "Seeya sixth period, you ass."
Dean put his beautiful car in gear and the two people in the back started talking loudly when Dean pulled out of the space in front of Gabe and me and drove off—not without shooting me with a hot glare before leaving.
I glared back, but the car was quickly roaring down the street and out of our sight.
"Seems like some tension has formed…?" Gabe observed.
"Do you really want to go right now, Gabe?" I asked, shuffling my shoulders and walking back towards school.
"Jeez, you're touchy. My bad." Gabriel was right behind me then, hurrying to catch up to my fast pace. It was odd how much Dean was reminding me of someone I knew. Someone I was close with for years, yet I couldn't put my finger on it. For fucking sure I knew I would remember a face like his, but I just couldn't.
We headed back to the school and right before the campus grounds began but were stopped by two guys. Both tall, one African American and the other very pale with a menacing grin.
Gabriel groaned loudly. "Zach, Raphael. Can you not today?"
"Not what, Gabriel?" Raphael responded icily.
"Just wanted to meet the new kid," Zach added, crossing his arms over his broad chest, successfully stopping Gabe and me. Gabriel momentarily looked a little worried at two big guys intimidating him. It was really only then that I realized how small he was compared to me. He was by no means tiny, but probably below average five-six.
"Alright," I said, stepping in now. "Nice to meet you both, I'm Castiel Novak. This all cleared up? We're going to be late to class now if you would both excuse us, we'd better get going—"
"Such spunk," Zach commented, crossing his arms. "In a hurry to go suck someone's cock?"
"Yeah," I responded, stepping into his personal space. We were around the same height although his bulk was considerably larger than mine. "In fact, I've got a whole line of dudes waiting for me to suck them off, and I hate to disappoint."
"Ah, funny man. Listen, fag—"
"That's enough, guys," Gabriel stepped in but Raphael walked up to him and broke his personal bubble.
"Nah, I'm not ashamed. It's these cocksuckers who are embarrassed of what they are." The boys glared harder, their fists tensing by their sides. "Maybe if you cut this all out, you'll get your cocks sucked by a dude, too," I said and winked, their totally flabbergasted faces unmoving.
"Shut up, slut!" one demanded. I knew I had the upper hand of this immediately.
"Oh you've never seen a slut until you've seen me," I said, closing in on their personal space now, making them extremely uncomfortable.
"Ugh! Fuck off, faggot!" the pale one said and stepped away due to the raising amounts of testosterone I was emitting. "Gross!"
"Shouldn't piss us off, you faggy piece of shit," Raphael said and they both walked off in the opposite direction of Gabe and me.
I shrugged and crossed my arms over my chest and turned to Gabe who looked shell-shocked. "Holy fucking shit, man."
"We fight fear with fear," I said and walked on towards school. In truth, it hurt when people called me a fag. And people say sticks and stones may break my bones but your words can't hurt me, but it's really overrated and sometimes words hurt like a bitch.
But I've learned to hold my own and ignore assholes like them. "Keep calm and carry on, then," Gabriel said as he skipped to meet my longer strides. "I really like you, you know."
"It's mutual," I said, turning to look down slightly at him. Gabriel seemed like he had serious height issues and his face got red when I hovered over him.
"Don't look down at me ever again or you'll have more bullies on your ass."
"My bad, Captain," I said sarcastically and we entered the main building.
xXx
It was my second day of current life. Except today, an office aide walked in with a purple slip of paper that had my name on it. I had to contain my excitement at getting a slip to leave this shitty class. Unfortunately, the office aide had to guide me to the office and bring me into my councilor's office since I had never met her before. She was middle aged and Indian.
"Hello, James," she said with a slight Indian accent. "Please take a seat."
I did as told and sat down when she turned to her computer and pulled up a screen. I put my head in my hands when she had mentioned my first name. It usually went like people assumed my name was Castiel because that was what I told them. But when they had my social security information and my class schedule in front of them, they don't generally know to use my middle name.
"I looked at your old transcript and it said you had already accomplished your half semester of current life. You could, if you chose, to continue with a second semester, but I did some more research. You have yet to complete your two semesters of PE."
"I have asthma—" I began.
"James, I've heard many excuses before, but listen to me. I know you don't want to participate, hardly anyone does—PE shouldn't really be required as I agree with you—but if you want to go to a four year college, it's the better choice."
I pursed my lips in thought. I really should be getting in shape, but fuck, it's so hard…
"So I'm going to go ahead and switch your schedule so that you have PE fifth period. You have Mr. Richard. Now if you would get along so you don't disturb the class too much…" she said.
"Alright. Thanks, then," I said a little sarcastically. I thought coming to a new school would allow me to escape from the dread of having to work out everyday. I got out of the seat and left the small room and headed towards the old PE building. As I was heading over to the near deserted area of the school, the more there were people in work out clothing. I gulped.
"New?" Mr. Richard asked as he eyed me. He was tall and slim with a bald head and dark eyes.
"Yeah," I muttered. I was standing in front of his class of seniors and juniors.
"Sucks," he mentioned. "Hope you don't still have a full stomach because it's two mile running day." He chewed on a piece of gum. "But you don't have clothes so I guess you'll have to sit this one out today." I shrugged.
Thank God he didn't make me do it in my clothes—well, not that I cared that much but it would still be a shame. Because, yet again, I had left the shower this morning to see another box placed neatly on my bed. Today it was a pair of gray slim khakis with a brown leather belt and a denim button down from Armani. Fucking Armani. It had come with a cardigan but I refused to wear that. An expensive pair of boat shoes that looked fit for a fifty-year-old man came along with the first box but I disregarded them and put on the converse from yesterday. So, yeah, not really work out clothing.
A door slammed and Mr. Richard looked past me. "For fuck's sake, Winchester! Could you take longer looking at yourself in the mirror?"
The whole class shook with laughter and I turned to see Dean leave the boy's locker room, glaring at the teacher. "Your call, Paul," Dean responded rudely and then caught my eye. "We-he-hell if it isn't the little Russian bitch!"
"No derogatory terms, Winchester. Don't make me give you extra laps," the teacher said with a hard glare. "His name's Ja—"
"Castiel," I cut him off. Okay, I wasn't exactly embarrassed of my first name. People used to call me Jimmy in middle school but then I guess people also used that name/word for a dick and then things started getting really messy.
"That's right, Cas." He fixed me with a hard glare. "Couldn't get enough of me at lunch?"
"That's enough. Get in line, Winchester, before I give you a referral for harassing my other students."
"Oh, you're in this class now?" Dean called out, the glare intensifying. He went to the very end of the line and crossed his arms. A short girl—the girl from the backseat of his car earlier, distracted him easily. I immediately wondered who she was and what relation she had to this prick.
He called roll and then they all had to line up for running. There was a track and apparently the boys ran first so the girls headed for the bleachers to sit and I followed behind them and took a seat in the second row. There was a football or soccer field inside of the track and I distantly wondered if Dean played either sport.
Someone sat down next to me and I jumped. "Shit, hello," I said when she looked at me curiously.
"Hey, you're that Castiel guy, right?"
I furrowed my brows at her. "Yes, my name is Castiel," I confirmed.
She giggled and I smiled a little. She was really pretty with her long blonde hair and big brown eyes. "I'm Jo Harvelle. You're new from Florida, right?"
"Uh, yeah. How did you know that?" I asked curiously.
"I have my sources," she giggled. "I'm a friend of Sam Winchester. He told me," she explained.
"Oh." I didn't exactly know how to continue this conversation.
"So have you made any friends yet?" she asked curiously. I crossed my arms over my knees and smirked.
"Yeah," I spoke softly. "I have."
"That's good to hear. I've lived here all my life so I pretty much know everyone around here," she said, flipping her hair, biting her lip. She looked like she had something to say, but I didn't honestly care enough what it was to provoke her to speak more. "Listen… You shouldn't really hang out with Dean Winchester."
I cocked a brow and turned to see her again. She was blushing heavily and not meeting his eyes. "Why?"
"I mean like he's not exactly good news. I saw you talking earlier and well, I guess, his little brother is great—Sam—but Dean took the wrong road in life."
I chewed on my lower lip, soaking this all in. "You're not one of those super religious catholic people?" I asked.
"Oh, no! My mom and I own a bar and we don't exactly follow many morals," she said, raising both brows.
I looked out onto the track and saw one particular person running furiously. His hair was stuck to his face, a dark brown rather than its usual dirty blond. He was wearing a gray tee and black shorts and the sweat was noticeable. He ran past the finishing line and paused to raise his arms over his head. Jo followed my stare.
"See why he is having a hard time getting air? He smokes too much."
"Alright, Negative Nancy. Move over," came a voice behind Jo and me. We both turned at the same time and saw the short black haired girl with an angry look on her face. "That means move, bitch!"
Jo scoffed and got up, turning back to me. "Talk to me anytime!" she called after her. I gave her a half assed wave and then looked back at angry-girl.
"Hey. Sorry, just hate dumb cunts like her spreading bullshit gossip like that; couldn't help but overhear that entire conversation," she said, sitting down next to me. She was wearing a white jersey and a pair of black shorts that looked almost too big for her skinny legs. "Ruby. Nice to meet you, Cas."
"Hi," I responded. I didn't know if I particularly liked her yet.
"Could you not stare at Dean like that?" she asked absentmindedly. I turned and glared at her.
Mr. Richard blew his whistle when the last boy finished and called for the girls to line up. Most of them groaned in protest and the teacher sarcastically mimicked them.
"Ruby! Why do you even come to my class if you don't want to participate?" he shouted to Ruby who didn't move from her spot next to me.
"Because I don't like giving you the satisfaction of watching me suffer while I'm running!" she yelled back.
"Alright, zero then!"
"Fine! Why don't you call my mom while you're at it!" Ruby pressed and Mr. Richard waved his hand at her. "What a pervert," she groaned.
"Yeah, he's such a pervert. Wants you to get exercise and a good grade. What an ass."
A very sarcastic new person joined Ruby and me. We both turned at the same time to see a sweaty Dean Winchester. "Do you want to die?" Ruby asked, getting up and landing a hard punch on Dean's pectoral.
"Only by your hands, baby," Dean said seductively and sat down on the other side of me.
"Oh, fuck off. Hey, guess who was talking shit about you?" Dean cocked a brow and leaned over, still breathing a little heavily. "Jo Harvelle."
I was curious to know what their relationship was like suddenly, Jo's and Dean's, but I knew it wasn't the time.
"Why are you sitting so close to me?" I asked.
He turned to me and cocked a sweaty brow and looked into my eyes. His eyes were bright with flecks of yellow in the emerald irises. His pupils were small as to show off more of his beautiful green orbs to me.
"Don't get your panties in a knot, Cas," he teased and stood up to lean against a bar that held this section of the bleachers up. "I'm fuckin' wet."
"Maybe you should cut down on the burgers and fries, Tubby," Ruby joked.
"I'm not fat, you slut," he said and pulled his tee all at once over his head. His chest had that same Italian olive colour to it that he shared with his younger brother Sam. No, he was not fat at all, but all lean muscles and lightly visible four pack. He was actually quite glorious as he wasn't extremely bulky and crazy muscled, but toned in a really hot manner.
She reached forward and squeezed his sides and yanked. "Nice love handles."
"I'm so fuckin' done with you, Rubes," he said and shook his head.
"Good. Why don't you take a shower while you're at it, yeah, Stinky?" she asked.
Were these two… Going out?
I hadn't realized I said that out loud.
Ruby laughed loudly and very unfeminine like. "Nooooo, I'd—uhh, nooooo."
"Yeah, I don't date ugly, brain dead whores," Dean said with a little purse of his lips, putting his hands on his still naked hips.
"Oh, fuck off!" she cried, slapping his chest.
oke enter dean! don`t worry, just 18 more chapters until they have sex! kidding kidding.
please let me know how you like this so far! you can also pm me; help is very much appreciated here! & i will probably need a beta soon; someone to keep me on track. c: