Across the track, Castiel is making his way over to the soccer field where the team is running drills. Cas doesn't even know if half of the team is scoring shots against the goalie or not because he's too focused on the way Sam's hair bounces around from trotting back and forth. He catches Sam's eye when he nears the sidelines and the tallest Winchester gives him a dimpled smile.
Castiel felt weak in the knees by that smile alone and it seriously surprised him when he didn't crumble to the ground right then and there. Castiel halted to a stop when a few of the other boys ran past him, barking out things like outta the way and get lost. He'd been too wrapped up in watching Sam to notice he had stepped over the sideline.
Sam caught his gaze again and held up a finger as if to say give me a minute and Cas nods his head diligently, taking a step back over the sideline so as not to disturb any of the players again. Castiel lets his eyes drift across the field casually, trying to be subtle, until his line of vision inevitably flicks back over towards the object of his affection.
He doesn't know what it is about Sam that makes his stomach twist into knots. It's true that Sam wasn't anything like his older brother Dean and maybe that served as the vessel for Castiel's unrequited crush. Sam was a good guy and he was friendly to anyone who was kind to him in return, making both girls and boys alike swoon at his feet.
Castiel feels awkward and stupid as he waits patiently for Sam to finish up, knowing full well that he was just getting his hopes up. Sam could have anyone in the school, and not just because he was related to Dean, and he was still only a junior. Sam didn't need the help of Dean's reputation to boost his charisma because the kid could charm a freshman out of their underwear. Not that he'd do that. Sam was a true gentleman if Cas ever saw one.
He's grown up around Sam long enough to know what kind of person the Winchester is. He could say the same for Adam and Dean as well. It was blatantly obvious that Sam was the angel and an all round perfect athlete as well as star pupil. Even if Sam isn't interested in Cas, he knows the tall Winchester would let him down easy.
But even with this knowledge, Castiel was suddenly hesitant at the thought of talking to Sam. The last thing he needed was Dean finding out that he was gay and had a crush on Sam, then Cas really would be at the bottom of the food chain. Castiel thinks idly that maybe if he cuts his losses now it will spare him the inevitable humiliation he's about to put himself through. Then again, Cas is masochist.
He's still sweating profusely from his run and it takes Castiel a few swipes with the back of his wrist to make himself remotely presentable for Sam. He usually didn't care about his appearance, but this was for Sam after all. He even tries to smoothe out his mussed hair the best he can but Cas is taken out of his habitual musings when he hears the soccer coach blow his whistle loudly, signaling the end of practice.
Coach Singer rounded up the boys for one final huddle, Does soccer even have huddles? Castiel ponders bemusedly, and congratulates the whole team about having good hustle. Coach Singer even goes out of his way to praise the golden boy Sam Winchester while, in turn, chastising Chuck for not being all he can be. Castiel can see the way Chuck hangs his head like he's let the team down, but coach Singer assures that he just needs to work a little harder.
Castiel wishes he had a coach like Mr. Singer. Instead, he was left with Mr. Turner, who wasn't such a mean man but just a little short tempered and overly ambitious. He expected too much from his runners, like giving a hundred and ten percent, which is why Cas thought so little about his abilities on the track. He knew Mr. Turner meant well, but it wouldn't hurt him to be a bit less demanding.
Still, it didn't compare to the senior's football coach. Cas really dodged a bullet with coach Crowley.
Mr. Singer dismissed the team and the majority of them starts trotting off towards the locker room to change and clean up. A shower doesn't sound too bad right about now and maybe, if Castiel uses his puppy eyes just right, he might be able to sneak in for one himself. A few juniors stay behind to ask the coach a few questions.
Sam waves goodbye to some of his friends before turning towards Castiel finally, flashing his dimpled smile like a charm. Castiel returns it with his own, raising his hand in a brief sweaty-palmed greeting before his nerves can get the better of him. Sam approaches him in long strides, wiping his face off on his shirt, and promptly rests a hand on his hip.
"Hey, Cas. What are you up to?" Sam asks, out of breath. His hair is sticking to his face but he makes move to fix it.
"I just finished up a run," he replies, gesturing towards the track with a thumb. "Adam was helping me train for Sunday."
"Right. You have a meet this weekend," Sam recalls, wagging a finger at Castiel. "Adam was telling me about it yesterday. Twisted my arm about showing up as well. Speaking of which, where is Adam?"
"Oh, he left already," Cas says and Sam quirks his eyebrow. "Where's little Deanna?"
A few weeks ago, in a drunken stupor, Adam had gushed about how Dean was named after their grandmother and ever since then Castiel has been exploiting it to his heart's content, making Sam shake his head ruefully.
"I still can't believe Adam told you about that," Sam says in reply rather than answering Cas' question.
"Adam tells me everything when he's drunk," Castiel simply shrugs.
"Obviously not..." Sam mutters under his breath.
"What?" Castiel asks curiously.
"Nothing..." Sam dismisses with a wave of his hand.
If only Castiel knew how many secrets Adam kept from him, such as his ability to run faster or the fact that he was in love with Cas. But Castiel didn't need to know that. Not yet. Before this silence can stretch into awkward territory Sam changes the subject.
"So, what brings you to my neck of the woods then? Not scoping out talent for the track team, are you?" Sam jokes, squinting his eyes suspiciously.
"Why? Have you seen any?" Castiel rebuttals with a dumbfounded look as he surveys the field incredulously.
This makes Sam bark out a good-natured look that sends Castiel's heart into a thrumming mess. Christ, Sam was gorgeous when he smiled and laughed. He lets himself enjoy the moment. Good, I've broken the ice a little, Cas thinks proactively. I can do this.
"You're a sassy little thing, you know that?" Sam chuckles rhetorically, looking Castiel up and down in wonder.
Sam finds it hard to believe why anyone would pick on someone like Cas. He was soft spoken, punctual, and quite funny when given the chance, not to mention very easy on the eyes. It's true that Sam has always had a guilty crush on Castiel, especially now that Cas is maturing and getting some muscle on him from running. His voice even deepened a little more during the summer.
"Maybe you should try out for soccer next year," Sam offers just then when the tense atmosphere shifts around them. "You'd certainly leave everyone else in the dust."
"Yeah, well, believe it or not I'm actually not that very coordinated with my feet," Castiel admits, blushing much to his chagrin. "You, on the other hand, should join the junior's track team. God knows they could use your speed and stamina."
Especially with long legs like that, Castiel wants to add, but keeps the comment to himself.
"You think?" Sam inquires, pondering it for a moment. He sighs with resignation then, smirking slightly. "Thanks, but I don't see the point in running around with nothing to keep my feet and mind busy... No offense."
"You clearly underestimate the fine art of track. And for that I do pity you, Sam," Cas admonishes in faux hurt, coaxing Sam to smile once again.
"What? Like the fine art of running in a circle?" Sam mocks playfully and the exchange is so smooth that it feels like they've been friends for years.
"Riiight... Because kicking a ball back and forth is so much fun," Castiel shoots back with sarcasm, biting his lip,with a satisfied smirk on on his face.
"You just haven't found the right person to teach you yet," Sam says with a wink.
"And I suppose you're the one to do it?" Castiel inquires.
"Well, I am the captain of the soccer team," Sam responds with a simple shrug. "I'm sure I could arrange a private one on one, if you're up to it."
"Are you hitting on me, Sam Winchester?" Castiel inquires incredulously, though not accusing.
"And if I am? What then?"
Castiel can't respond. Doesn't know how to.
Somehow, without even realizing it, Sam and Castiel have inched closer to each other to the point where Castiel can feel the heat radiating off of Sam in overwhelming waves. Sam's light blue soccer jersey clings to his body with his sweat stains outlining the contours of his well-built abdomen. Castiel can't fight the urge to tear his eyes away from Sam as he rakes his blue irises along the length of him.
The jersey isn't sheer enough to see through, but Castiel notices that Sam's nipples are hard from the slight breeze teasing his sweat slick skin. What Cas wouldn't give to lick, suck, and bite them right now just to hear the noises Sam might make. He knows his gaze lingers for too long when Sam clears his throat to drag his attention back up to his face.
"It's getting pretty cold out here, isn't it?" Sam asks with a cocky lilt, resisting the wide grin threatening to break out across his face. Castiel breaks out in a blush at this, feeling vaguely ashamed. "How about we hit the showers? You look like you could use a nice hot one right about now."
"I don't think I'm allowed," Castiel excuses, finding any reason to say no. "I'm not on the soccer team."
"You're a student at this school. You're more than allowed into the locker room just as much as the next guy," Sam reminds. Castiel fidgets slightly and Sam's lips curl into a devious grin. "You're not bashful, are you?"
"If I say no you won't believe me and if I say yes you'll only tease me about it. Either way there's no winning," Castiel deduces, surprising Sam with how sharp he is.
After all, this isn't Castiel's first rodeo. He's been teased all his life. Sam's cheeks burn with the shame that for a second he almost pulled a Dean and made fun of Cas. Sam's shoulders slump in sympathy and his voice takes on a softer tone.
"I would never do that to you," Sam vows with promise, making sure Castiel knows he's serious. "Not all Winchesters are dicks, ya know. Adam is proof of that."
"To be fair, Adam is your half-brother," Castiel quips, biting his lips to keep from smiling.
Sam shoves at Castiel's shoulder playfully, laughing despite himself.
"You're a punk," Sam reprimands softly, but there's no animosity behind it. "So, are you gonna shower with me or what?"
Yes, Castiel wants to say. I would like that very much, as a matter of fact.
It's only when Sam starts to guide him to the locker room by his wrist does he realize he's said this out loud. The color drains from Castiel's otherwise fair complexion as he lets himself follow Sam wordlessly. By the time they get to the locker room most of the soccer team has cleared out, with the exception of a few stranglers taking their time.
Castiel stares dumbfounded at Sam as the taller boy strips out of his soccer uniform, starting with his shirt. Sam shucks it over his head and hangs it over his opened locker door, shaking his hair freely as if to straighten it out. And, Christ almighty, does he look absolutely flawless doing it. Like a model really. Castiel gawks at Sam's exposed torso, drinking in the perfection he always knew Sam possessed.
Sam looks at expectantly and Castiel gets this as a hint to start undressing as well. Castiel plops down on the bench and starts with his shoes, after all he wasn't precisely eager to bare himself in front of Sam. Especially not now. He's not ashamed of his body or anything, Castiel's just afraid of certain body parts betraying him for all to see. Which is why he opts to leave his briefs on when he's finished undressing.
Castiel stands up, folding his track uniform neatly to nestle it in a small corner of Sam's locker. Sam looks up at Castiel with a quirked brow as he's taking off his cleats. He pauses in his motions to study the awkward sophomore more thoroughly. When Castiel makes no move to rid himself of his underwear, Sam presses the matter subtly.
"Do you always shower with your underwear on?" Sam implores, bemused.
"Perhaps," is all Castiel has to say to that.
"Look, you could've just told me you were bashful..." Sam starts to say.
"I'm not bashful. Just killing two birds with one stone," Castiel covers lamely, knowing his excuse is asinine.
"What? So, you're washing your underwear in the shower?" Sam inquires with an amused chuckle.
"You know my father isn't as financially endowed as yours, Sam. We can't always afford the expenses of laundry," Castiel lectures, playing off his lie almost flawlessly.
"You and I both know that Adam is the one who washes your clothes when Gabriel can't afford it." Castiel spares him a guilty look. "Not that we mind," Sam adds quickly. "I'm just saying you don't have to feel insecure around me, Cas."
Sam gives him this look as if he can see right through Castiel's lie and the brunette almost feels bad for lying to someone as sweet as and selfless as Sam. He deserves better than that.
"Thank you, Sam, but if it's all the same to you I'm much more comfortable like this," Castiel admits in a defeated tone. Voice small, barely above a whisper.
"Okay," Sam says, nodding twice before dropping the subject.
Sam straightens up just then and proceeds to pull down his shorts, giving Castiel a better view of his long limbs. Sam's soccer shorts were slightly longer than Castiel's track shorts and revealed a lot less than desired, so this was also a new sight for him. If only this could have prepared him for the next big reveal.
Before Castiel can even process just how muscled and powerful looking Sam's legs are, his underwear was coming off without a moment's notice. Castiel catches a glimpse of Sam's bared groin before he looks away out of shame, but it's enough. He feels like if he stares for too long that he'll offend Sam's sensibilities. Not that there was anything Sam needed to be remotely embarrassed about. He was definitely in proportion with the rest of his gigantic form.
Awkwardly, Castiel hurries past Sam to get to the showers first so he doesn't get the much sought after sight of Sam's ass. Castiel latches the shower stall door behind him and turns on the shower head to find the water already heated from a previous use. Sam sidles into the stall next to Cas' and does the same. He squeezes a handful of shampoo into one big palm before offering the bottle to Castiel.
The brunette accepts it without protest and they both proceed to run their sweat drenched head underneath the spray so they can lather up their hair. Castiel closes his eyes, so as not to get shampoo in them, and massages the suds into his scalp. The spray of the hot water beaming down on him mixed with the ministrations of his own fingers feels relaxing enough to make him forget where he was for a second.
He can feel all of the weary aches from his run dissolving away instantly and tips his head back. He can feel eyes on him, but Castiel is too afraid to peek and see to confirm this. Castiel is half expecting Sam to say something, like a witty comment to break the tension in the air, but it never comes. Instead, they enjoy their respective showers in silence.
Castiel eventually loses himself and lets out a soft moan of delight, relishing in the feel of actual hot water a little too much. He only had cold water at home, so he let himself get carried away for a moment before he realized Sam was standing right next to him. Luckily for Castiel, Sam hadn't heard him from under the cascade of the shower head.
This goes on for a few minutes more simply because Castiel can't get enough of it. After Castiel rinses out his hair he starts to rub a generous supply of soap all over his body, imagining that it was Sam caressing him with those big hands of his. Castiel's just glad he can't see Sam's body in all of it's nude glory right now or else he'd be in real trouble. So Castiel promptly keeps his eyes closed throughout the whole shower to avoid this and blatantly ignores his erection straining against his sodden underwear.
Content in the knowledge that this barrier was keeping Castiel from humiliating himself in front of his crush.