Chapter : 12
Castiel was having trouble breathing as he stared at himself in the mirror, smoothing down the creases in his dress shirt for what felt like the millionth time that evening. The white material cut off abruptly where it was tucked into his black slacks, and his dress shoes reflected the light in the bedroom dimly. His tie, a dark blue to match his attire, covered the buttons of his shirt and his blazer was open – for the time being – in hopes of keeping him from sweating in the heated room.
Perhaps the most interesting part of his attire was the mask, held in place with an elastic band around his head. It was a black number, simple as far as shape went and complicated in the painted design; thinly painted lines shot out from the corners and edges of the mask, wrapping around the holes that exposed Castiel's eyes in delicate swirls of blue and silver, highlighting the color of Castiel's eyes and making his eyelashes look surprisingly long.
Castiel's stomach was going through nervous rotations as he turned away from the mirror and wandered absentmindedly on to his balcony, inhaling a soothing breath of the frigid January air. It was odd for him to be nervous about a school dance, because it was odd for him to attend one.
Most evenings when the student body was attending a formal, Castiel would hide himself away and spend the night reading a book and silently pitying himself; Dean forbid it this year.
The mere thought of his date for the evening had Castiel's stomach doing another series of flips, his grip on the railing white-knuckled as he stared out at the calm scene that was his front yard. This was the evening of January twenty-fourth; not only was it the night of the winter formal, but it was also Dean's nineteenth birthday.
Castiel had his boyfriends present tucked safely into the duffel bag lying beside his bedroom door; it was an overnight bag that he'd kept packed since Christmas, when he had awkwardly had to lie his way through a tale of falling in to a pond while ice-skating when his mother asked why he came home wearing someone else's clothes; telling her that his clothing was lying in a soiled pile in the trunk of his boyfriends car was not an option.
Thinking about his mother, Castiel glanced back into the house with a scowl. The woman had been sniffing around him like a blood hound since Christmas, waiting for Castiel to slip up and give her a reason to explode; Castiel had been extra careful about hiding his relationship, and even gone as far as to stage a female date for this evening. One of Dean's friends from out of town had offered to take the job, and Castiel had pounced on the opportunity; going to the formal was the only thing Dean had asked to do for his birthday, an odd request from Dean Winchester, so Castiel was determined to make it happen.
Castiel nearly jumped out of his skin when a honk sounded in the distance and a pair of headlights suddenly illuminated the front lawn, the Impala rolling down the drive with a slow crunch of gravel and snow. Castiel smiled, squinting to see the faint outline of Dean in the driver's seat before his ducked back into his bedroom, closing and locking the balcony door behind himself and grabbing his duffel before he took the stairs two at a time.
"Castiel, your date should not have to pick you up! If you were a proper man, you would have picked her up from her house!" His mother squawked as he reached the foyer, but not even the King James that thumped against his temple could ruin his mood.
"Joanna is from out of town, mother." He explained for possibly the fourth time that week as he set the duffle bag down only long enough to button his blazer before picking it up once more. "The boy she's staying with is a friend of mine, and he offered to drive us both,"
"I just hope you don't ruin the evening for this poor girl," Ms. Novak sighed, peeking through the curtains. Castiel heard the slam of two separate car doors and tried not to tap his foot as he impatiently awaited the doorbell.
"Mother, I assure you that I will be a perfect gentleman." He sighed, knowing his assurances would do nothing to affect her view of him. She was still convinced that he would leave Joanna alone to tempt the boys at the dance- granted that's what he was going to do, he wasn't going to leave Joanna on her own; the girl wasn't even going to attend the dance, she was going to take Sam into town for a movie while Castiel and Dean had an evening to themselves.
"Do not smear this family name any further, Jonathon." His mother growled as a soft knock on the door drew their attention. Castiel nodded obediently, biting his tongue as he opened the door and almost fainted at the sight before him.
Dean was standing on the doorstep, his jacket open to reveal a gold vest and tie over a white dress shirt. One hand was tucked into the pocket of his tuxedo jacket, the other poised to knock. His mask was shaped quite similarly to Castiel's, but it was decorated quite differently; it was solid gold, although stylish scrapes revealed a hint of silver underneath, and the designs all branched from the bottom and curled upwards in risen lines around his eyes. The gold flecks that had always been present in Dean's green irises seemed alarmingly bright, undoubtedly a fault of the masks color.
Those eyes, beautiful and familiar, looked anywhere but at Castiel.
"Hello, Ms. Novak," Dean greeted stiffly, extending a hand. Castiel's mother shook the offered limb with disdain before letting it fall and staring evenly at the boy on the doorstep.
"I suppose you'll be the driver?" She questioned.
"Yes ma'am." He nodded. "Joanna is in the car- she's injured her leg, and getting out just to say hello would be quite a hassle. If you'd like to go meet her, please feel free."
"No, that will be fine. I do expect photos from the evening, though." She shot Castiel a dangerous look and the boy flinched without his permission.
"Yes, mother." He promised quietly, edging towards the door. When his mother made no move to stop him, he was quick to brush past Dean and climb in the Impala. He expected Joanna to be sitting in the back as Dean had said but as he tossed his duffel into the backseat he found it empty. Though it had been a risky move on Dean's part, Castiel was glad they would be alone on the drive.
A few moments later, Dean slid into the driver's seat and slammed the door closed behind himself. Castiel reached for his boyfriends hand felt his heart give a nervous tug when Dean pulled his hand out reach.
That was very unlike Dean.
Castiel's worries were quickly soothed when they reached the end of the drive way and Dean put the car in park, reaching out for Castiel and dragging the smaller boy across the seat. Castiel went without argument, swinging one knee over Dean's legs so he could comfortably straddle the older boys lap. He rested his hands on Dean's shoulders and smiled as the older boy looked him over with obvious approval.
"Do you know how hard it was not to grope you in front of your mother?" Dean chuckled, tilting his head up for a kiss. Castiel obliged, their masks knocking noisily against each other but neither boy caring.
"That's statutory rape, you pedophile." Castiel mumbled teasingly into the other boy's mouth, laughing as Dean gave his calves a solid squeeze and bit his bottom lip.
"It's not rape if you like it, darling," Dean drawled as he pulled away, winking and combing his fingers gently through Castiel's hair. He made a face as he quickly pulled his hands away, looking at his splayed fingers as if they'd personally offended him.
"Did you put gel in your hair?" He demanded and Castiel nodded with a chuckle. His hair had always been an animal to tame, and the only way he could get it to lay flat and out of his face for this evening was from a handful of hair-gel from his mother's collection.
"I hate gel," Dean groaned, resting his forehead against Castiel's shoulder in a surprisingly childish manner. Castiel chuckled, picking a piece of lint off the shoulder of Dean's jacket and smoothing a hand down the older boys back.
"Are you sure you're nineteen?" He asked cautiously, and Dean's shoulder shook as he chuckled and pressed a kiss to the fabric of Castiel's blazer.
"Yes," Dean smiled as he looked up at the boy sitting in his lap, his head falling back to rest against the seat as Castiel's fingers slowly traced over the lines of his face; the curve of his lips, the bones of his cheeks, his eyelids…
"Cas, what're you doing?" Dean chuckled as he let his eyes fall closed and his boyfriends thumbs brushed gently over his eyelashes.
"Memorizing," Castiel answered quietly. Four and a half months into their relationship and Castiel had finally become entirely comfortable with touching Dean, and telling the other boy his thoughts without worry of being scolded or teased.
"Planning on forgetting me sometime soon?" Dean smiled, puckering lips in attempt to kiss the pad of Castiel's thumb as the digit dragged softly over his lips and smoothed over the dip in his chin.
"Never," Castiel replied, his expression focused despite the fact Dean could not see him, and Dean smiled as he felt a slightly chapped pair of lips ghost over his own.
"You are such a dork," Dean murmured affectionately as Castiel's lips brushed over each of his eyelids; both boys were whispering, despite the empty car. They seemed to have come to a silent consensus that such a tender moment couldn't be ruined with their usual volumes of speech.
Sam, however, had every intention of ruining the moment; he seemed to be quite good at that.
A sharp rap against the window had Castiel scrambling to climb out of Dean's lap, and Dean yelping in pain as he received a sharp knee to the groin. Castiel wheeled around, his mask knocked sideways as Dean curled in on himself and cupped the crotch of his pants tenderly, his forehead pressed to the steering wheel as he released a high keening noise. Castiel brushed a gentle hand over his boyfriend's lower back, shooting Sam a dark look as the freshman threw open the driver-side door and tried to stifle his laughter.
"That's what you get for making me stand in the snow for twenty minutes while you two make out," Sam said, as if his brother taking a hit to the groin was a just punishment. Dean simply shook his head, his jaw ticking as he finally recovered enough to sit up; his hands remained protectively cupped in his lap and Castiel pressed tightly against his side in a clear statement of apology.
"Did you bring the camera?" Dean grated out, and his younger brother held up a small device that Castiel guessed was a camera. "Good- where's Jo?"
"She's sitting in the car," Sam answered, tucking the camera back in the pocket of his coat. "She didn't want to see the two of you sucking face,"
"Shut up and bring her over here, bitch," Dean rolled his eyes, motioning Sam to go away. Sam rolled his eyes but crunched away towards a car Castiel hadn't seen sitting a few yards down the road.
"Why is Sam here?" Castiel asked, fingering the hairs at the base of Dean's neck thoughtfully as the older man sighed.
"Your mom needs pictures of you and Jo- and I wanted a picture of us," Dean explained, pressing a kiss to Castiel's temple before slipping out of the car and standing with a long sigh. Castiel followed, pushing the door closed behind him and smiling as Dean draped a possessive arm over his shoulders and rested his chin atop the shorter man's head. Together the two of them leaned back against the still-warm hood of the Impala, and Castiel smiled as Dean made a comment about the fruity smell of his hair gel.
"You are the gay stereotype, Cas, all the way down to the fruity smells and the sweater-vests," Dean laughed, leaning away just enough to look Castiel in the eyes as the younger boy looked up and stuck his tongue out in retaliation before a flash in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He turned to see Sam standing a few feet away, grinning like a fool as he waved the camera victoriously through the air.
"I'm so framing this one," Sam announced, bringing the camera back to his eyes. "Now do a nice pose,"
So, for the next twenty minutes Castiel and Dean were subject to Sam's photographic vision; there was several shots of the two of them propped against the Impala side by side, a few of each one of them by themselves; Sam even managed to catch a shot of the two of them kissing when they thought he wasn't looking. Dean soon got irritable though, and to Castiel's relief, a new voice entered the mix.
"Sam, give Dean a break before he bites your head off." Castiel looked to the side and frowned when he saw the long-legged blonde striding towards him in a blue cocktail dress; her mask was solid blue like her dress, no design, and her brown eyes were warm and friendly as she threw an arm around Castiel's waist and motioned Dean to go away.
"Jo, you know my policy as far as hitting girls goes," Dean warned as he hesitantly moved away, leaving a panicky Castiel standing stiffly next to Jo. Sam snapped a few pictures as Jo winked at Dean and pressed a sloppy kiss to Castiel's cheek.
"I won't get too handsy, Dean." This news was anything but comforting to Castiel as he let his arm hesitantly encircle the girls waist; everything about it was wrong- there was curves where the sharp bones of a man's hip should have been, and the hand resting against his opposite side was much too small and soft.
"Jo Harvell," The blonde girl smiled at Castiel, squeezing his waist in a warm display of friendship; little did she know that Castiel was ten seconds from scrambling his way back into Dean's arms, where he belonged. Dean didn't seem too pleased with the situation either, his eyes glue to Jo's hand where it was moving and down Castiel's side.
"Castiel Novak," Castiel managed to reply with a weak smile, glancing towards the camera in enough time for Sam to catch a photo with both parties smiling. Whether he noticed Castiel's discomfort or was satisfied with his own work, Sam announced the shoot to be over and Castiel all but sprung away from Jo.
Dean was waiting only a few steps away, arms crushing Castiel possessively close as soon as he was within reach. Castiel inhaled the strong scent of generic soap and a faint hint of cologne; something masculine and Dean. He realized with some humor that he had absolutely no hope of being what his mother wanted; simply being touched by a woman, or touching one, seemed wrong to Castiel.
Jo placed a hand on her hip, arching a brow.
"Am I really that repulsive in a dress?" She demanded.
"Hideous," Dean winked, blowing her a kiss which she pretended to catch before throwing it in the dirt and crushing it under her heel.
"Cas just has some… Trust issues," Sam rolled his eyes.
"Sam," Dean growled in warning as Castiel tensed in his arms, flinching against the suggestion; granted he did have a hard time growing close to people, he didn't want that news spread to every stranger on the side of the road.
"Relax, Dean. I'm not going to give away his life story," Sam assured, shaking his head as he glanced at his watch and cursed. "C'mon, Jo- if we don't hurry up, we're gonna miss the movie."
"Alright, alright," Jo made to follow Sam as the freshman moved towards the car parked further down the road, but she paused when Dean called out after her.
"Thanks," Castiel laid his head on Dean's chest, listening to the words vibrate through him. "For doing this, I mean- taking the pictures, and watching Sammy for the night. I owe you one,"
"Don't think I won't collect, Dean-O," She warned before turning on her heel and hiking her dress up in a very un-lady like fashion as she jogged towards the car and slid into the driver's seat.
Only a few minutes later she and Sam were a good mile down the road, only their taillights visible to the couple still standing in the drive way.
XxXxXxX
The dance turned out to be a bust. Dean and Castiel stayed long enough to receive a few rude comments, but when someone pulled out their phone and attempted to take a photo bound for Castiel's mother, they quickly left. Dean was nothing but apologetic, but Castiel assured him that he would rather spend the evening alone together than in a room full of crowded people.
That was how they ended up lying on the small twin-sized bed in Dean's bedroom, a mess of tangled limbs and headphones. They were listening to Castiel's mp3 rather than the Walkman for once, and Dean kept making faces at the different songs playing. Though Castiel was offended by his lack of respect for Mumford & Sons, he was quite entertained by the faces his boyfriend was making.
"Dean, they are not that bad." Castiel laughed as he played with the fabric of Dean's tie where it was still hanging loosely around the older boy's neck.
"I don't like them," Dean decided, taking the mp3 out of Castiel's hands and scrolling through the artists until he found one fitting of his approval. "Led Zeppelin? You're not entirely hopeless, Cas." He smiled as Stairway to Heaven poured through the couples ears.
Castiel nodded, using Dean's arm as a pillow as he rolled on to his back and stared absentmindedly at a pile of boxes in the corner across the room. Sam's books, once piled neatly at the foot of his bed, were now in a box.
"It's been six months," Castiel turned his head to look pointedly at the boy beside him and Dean quirked an eyebrow.
"We've only been dating four and a half months, Cas," Dean corrected.
"No- it's been six months since you got here." Castiel rolled his eyes, shifting his legs where they were tangled with Dean's. "And your stuff is still in boxes."
"Yeah, and?" Dean asked, something flashing behind his eyes before it disappeared.
"Why haven't you settled in yet?" Castiel wondered, picking at a string on the blankets beneath them as Dean shrugged, shifting Castiel's head where it was propped against his arm.
"Haven't had the time or the urge, I guess." Dean drug his foot gently over Castiel's shin before settling his heel in the bend of Castiel's left ankle. Castiel wiggled his toes experimentally, smiling faintly as Dean's foot shifted along with the tendons in his ankle.
"I could help you unpack one day, if you want." Castiel offered through a yawn, laying one hand flat over Dean's stomach and watching as it rose and fell with the older boy's breath.
"We'll make it a date," Dean said after a long moment, his voice quiet and somber. Castiel glanced up at his face, expecting to find something sad, but there was only a gentle smile.
"So where's my birthday present, huh, Mr. Romantic?" He teased, obviously changing the subjects, and Castiel chuckled as Dean nuzzled his neck expectantly, pulling his headphone out in the process.
"It's in my pocket," He answered, and Dean looked up in surprise.
"You actually got me something?" He asked, seemingly surprised.
"Of course I did," Castiel rolled his eyes, reaching into the pocket of his blazer and retrieving the small package. Dean took it and studied the comic-strip wrapping for a long moment before he turned to Castiel and pressed a soft kiss to the younger boy's lips.
"You are an angel, Cas." He praised and Castiel blushed as he moved closer and watched Dean carefully peel away the comics to reveal a small leather wallet; Dean had been complaining that his wallet was near the end of its life less than a week ago, and Castiel had happened to stumble upon the small black billfold when he was out shopping a few days after that. Dean grinned as he flipped the small wallet open, and the grin melted into a stunned frown.
Castiel's heart skipped nervously as he waited for Dean's reaction to the picture tucked into the slot where ones ID was meant to go. Dean had never been aware of the pictures existence since he was asleep in the image, but Castiel had wanted to give him some kind of image to show people if they were to ask about his relationship. The image was quite silly, in all honesty, Castiel's forehead pressed to Dean's as the older boy slept on obliviously. Castiel's eyes were wide open, staring at the relaxed expression on his boyfriends face, smiling all the while.
Dean made a soft sound in the back of his throat, looking between Castiel and the image several times before he broke into a smile and set the wallet on his bedside table.
"An angel," Dean repeated to Castiel's relief, pressing a tender kiss to the younger boy's lips. "Been my angel since the day it started snowing, and you said you'd look out for Sammy and I at school while we were gone … I guess you're some kind of winter angel, huh, Cas? Wings only work when it's snowing outside,"
"I guess so…" Castiel chuckled at Dean's nonsensical analogy, knowing he'd care for the Winchester boys long after it stopped snowing. "And I suppose this is just a very Winchester winter,"
xXxXxXxXx
And so we finally find the title somewhere in the story! Woo!
Getting closer to the end /3
-CCW
