When your boyfriend avoided you, there was only one thing you could do: work. Dean was done begging. He had to remember that his entire life's existence didn't depend on a blue-eyed boy with ridiculously smooth hair.
He talked to Bobby about working full time, and even staying extra hours to learn from the master. Dean decided becoming a mechanic was the most sensible career choice he could make. For one, it didn't require any math knowledge. And he had a job lined up for him once he learned enough.
It wasn't just the need for money. Dean liked working with cars. It was a new form of entertainment he recently discovered. He helped Bobby change the radiator in a baby blue '73 Chevy Corvette, and the thing was a beauty.
Bobby had agreed to teach Dean everything he knew, to pass on the knowledge. Sometimes Dean didn't come home until nine o'clock, and when he checked his phone, he'd have no missed calls or text messages. Castiel was ignoring him. But that was okay. He'd give him time. He'd give him space. Whatever had him so upset would pass, and they would go back to normal.
Dean had to learn about cars. He had to make something of himself. Maybe that's why Castiel decided to push him aside. Maybe he finally realized how worthless Dean was.
"Go on home, boy," Bobby said, wiping his sweaty forehead with an old rag. "It's late. You've been working all day long."
Dean slid from under the car he'd been working on. Even though it was late, the garage had a great big lamp to illuminate under the hood as he worked. Dean was sweaty, even though it was winter and outside it was cold and windy. He liked being there, in Bobby's garage, it kept him busy.
"Are you sick of me already?" Dean caught the clean rag that Bobby tossed him and cleaned his face and hands. He sat up on the cemented ground and glanced up at his uncle.
"Don't you have anywhere else to be? Hell, when I was about your age, the last thing I wanted to do was work overtime."
Dean shrugged, rolling up the rag in his hands. "I don't really have anywhere else to be, Bobby. I like it here."
"Yeah, yeah, sure you do. Why don't you head on home before your momma gets worried sick about you."
Reluctantly, Dean stood up. "I should probably check on Sam."
Bobby frowned, even more than usual. "What's wrong with your brother? He doing okay?"
"He's hanging in there," Dean said, hoping that was the truth. "I just need to be there in case he gets out of line."
"Did you ever find out what was up with him?"
"I'm working on it." He needed to find out about the weed himself before he told anybody.
Bobby nodded, looking a little suspicious, but not enough to press on the issue.
"I'll be here early tomorrow," Dean promised.
"Wish I had your youth and strength, son. I don't know how you're still standing on your feet."
"Neither do I."
Classes were scheduled to start the next day, and Dean was officially sick and tired of his winter break. He wanted to start the next semester, which was a highly unusual feeling. He was holding onto the hope that maybe things would clear up this year.
New year, new you.
Of course, everybody knew that was bullshit.
At least not all had been wasted. He'd made progress with Castiel. They had a date tonight, and Dean had taken off work for the day (Bobby nearly shoved him out of the shop).
Cas was waiting for him on the sidewalk by the time Dean pulled up. He was wearing a leather jacket and black combat boots, Dean hardly recognized him. He got in the car as soon as it came to a full stop.
"Hi, Cas."
"Hello, Dean." Castiel's voice seemed gruffer today. Even his stubble had grown and he had a five o'clock shadow. "What?" he asked, when he noticed Dean staring at him.
"New look?" Dean asked. Underneath his jacket, Cas was wearing an AC/DC t-shirt. This was definitely a new version of Castiel. "What's with the beard? Not that I'm opposed to it."
Cas laughed, buckling his seatbelt. "You like?"
"I absolutely like." Dean leaned in for a kiss, and Cas returned it, almost reflectively. When he pulled away, he saw a hint of vulnerability in Castiel that he quickly covered with a smirk.
"I'm glad you like it. I did it for you. I want you to like me."
Confused, Dean took a deep breath. "Is this the problem, then? You're still not sure about my feelings?"
"There's no problem, Dean. I'm here. I love you."
Despite the sharp tone in Castiel's voice, hearing those last three words boosted up Dean's confidence. There was still something there. Dean still hadn't completely lost Cas. He had a chance to figure this out and fix it. Cas looked away, glancing out his window for a moment.
"Hey." Dean reached for his chin and pulled his face towards him. It was too dark inside the car to read his eyes, but Dean knew they were different, lighter, guarded somehow. "I love you, too."
Surprised, Castiel raised his eyebrows. "Have you been practicing this line for tonight?"
"What? No, I said it because it's true. Cas, baby, please tell me you believe me. I'm not sure what to do. I'm not even sure why you've been pretending I don't exist for the past week."
"I've been busy. I have projects and responsibilities. And I've been hanging out with Chuck. We're painting a mural in my room."
"Really? What's the mural about?"
"The ocean," Cas said, looking ahead. "It's nothing close to a Bob Ross painting, but I think we're decent artists. And we work really well together."
"Yeah? I didn't know the two of you were so close." Dean was not going to let any of this bother him. He had to give Cas some space. He had to trust him.
Cas turned to him. "We are. We're very close."
"Good," Dean said, casually.
"So, are we going to go or are you going to keep me waiting? It's fucking cold."
Dean chuckled. "Yeah, let's go."
They listened to music in mutual silence on the way to Olive Garden. Cas had once told Dean he loved Italian food, but Dean didn't have a job at the time.
As they walked up to the door, Dean reached for Cas' hand and he didn't refuse, which was a good sign. A great sign.
They were given a table in a windowless corner and they sat across from each other. The air smelled of garlic butter, breadsticks and tomato sauce. It was dark and gloomy, but Dean focused on the positive. Cas was there.
"What are you going to order? I think I'm going to go with something safe, like lasagna."
Cas was hiding behind his menu and he peeked over it for a second. "I'm still looking."
"Okay. Sorry." Dean sighed. Space. Give him space and time.
A familiar ringtone started ringing, and Dean pulled out his cell phone. It was still off. Castiel answered his call, and Dean watched him blankly.
"Hi, Chuck," Cas said, smiling wider than ever. "Sure, what time do you want me to be there? Alright. Love you, too. Bye."
Dean gaped at him. He didn't realize his hands were now fists on the table. "Do you have other plans?"
"Yeah." Cas kept his eyes on the menu, studying it intently.
"With your dear friend Chuck?" Who apparently you love.
"Yeah."
"Is he…I mean, even if he was I know you wouldn't…"
Cas looked up. He looked annoyed. "What are you mumbling about?"
"Nothing." Dean shook his head in an attempt to clear his thoughts. "So, when are you going to see him?"
"Tonight. I'm sleeping over."
"Why?"
Cas set down his menu and blinked at Dean. "Why are you interrogating me, Dean? Don't you trust me?"
"I trust you." He did, didn't he?
"Oh, I'm sorry," Cas said, somehow his tone was mocking. "I didn't realizing it would wound your ego knowing I made plans on the same night of our date. I thought you were more secure when it came to our relationship."
Dean frowned. "I am secure. I just don't understand what's happening with us anymore. I'm confused, I guess."
"Nothing's happening. I'm ready to order. I don't want to get to Chuck's too late."
They stared at each other as they waited for their waitress. They had run out of things to say.
Sam's eyes were red and puffy on the ride to their first day back at school. Dean wondered if he got high every morning.
"Have you been sleeping right, Sammy?"
Sam shrugged. "Yeah. The usual."
"Hey, where do you go during lunch? Why don't we eat together today?"
"Dean, no. Are you kidding? "
"Why not?" Dean demanded.
"Because I have my group of friends and you have yours and we should not ruin that peace. It's what keeps us from killing each other, remember?"
Dean rolled his eyes. "Okay, but you still haven't answered my first question. Where do you go during lunch?"
"I don't know. Places."
"Who do you eat lunch with?" Dean hoped his series of questions weren't as obvious as they had been with Cas. Being subtle was definitely not his forte.
Seemingly annoyed, Sam groaned. "Dean, I eat lunch with friends. I don't know. Jake, Brenda, whatever. It's too early to be arguing. Drive a little faster, I want to get out of this car."
"Sammy, come on, I'm not that bad."
"Aren't you?" Sam turned to him, arching an eyebrow. Did he know something? "You're Dean the Saint, aren't you? Never-do-wrong Dean."
"I think you're confusing me with you." Dean frowned at the old idea he had of his brother. Dean had always thought of Sam as the perfect brother. While Dean was making bets and befriending the school bullies, Sam was joining study groups and after school activities. All of that—the perfect image of his little brother—had been stained when Dean found him smoking marihuana outside of their home. Now, he had no idea who Sammy was anymore.
"Oh, but I'm different," Sam said, his red rimmed eyes focused hard on Dean. It was like he'd read his mind. "And you're different, too. You're just as screwed up as I am. You just can't see it."
Pulling up to the school parking lot, Dean parked the Impala and shut the engine. "How am I different?"
Sam grinned, showing his long pearly whites. "I'm not going to give up the one piece of information I could use against you."
Dean swallowed, fearing asking the question stuck in his throat. His first thought was Cas and The Bet. "Sammy, what do you know?"
"I am going to be late for class. Glad we had this talk, Dean." He opened the door and he was gone.
His table was full when he walked into Algebra class. On their table where Chuck and Cas, whispering secretively to one another. Dean scanned the nearly empty room and found Benny's table, which was empty. He'd come exceptionally early to class so he could have a little extra time to talk to Cas.
Fisting his hands (he did that often now, when Chuck was ever involved), Dean approached his and Cas' table. There was a notebook between them and they were both sharing it. Dean gave it a quick glance and found that they were both sketching something on it. Together, of course.
Dean cleared his throat and let his backpack hang loose on his shoulder. "Hey, you're in my seat."
Unfazed, Chuck looked at Dean. "We're working on something. I don't think Benny will mind having you back at his table." Chuck pulled the notebook away from Cas, making Cas drown in laughter. "Give it here, it's my turn."
Dean didn't move. His eyes focused on Castiel and his stupid laughter and his eyes and his stubble and his leather jacket. Was this a look he was going to keep?
"Don't worry, Benny doesn't bite," Chuck told Dean, sending him a wink.
"I'm sure he doesn't," Dean said, keeping his eyes on Cas. "How's it going?" he asked to his direction, but the blue-eyed boy had taken the notebook back and was focused on the sketch. "Cas?" Dean repeated, opening his fists and spreading his fingers wide.
Sliding the notebook closer to Chuck, Cas finally glanced up at Dean. "You're talking to me? Isn't it weird talking to your ex, Dean?"
Oh right. At school, Dean and Cas were no longer a thing. A thing. As if that truly summarized them. No. Dean and Cas were in a relationship. Secret, as it were, but a relationship as real as the two of them. How long was Dean going to keep this going? How long was he going to pretend for the sake of his popularity?
"Yeah, it is," Dean said, rubbing the back of his neck. It felt hot. Cas went back to his notebook and Dean headed to his old desk. He pulled out a notebook of his own and didn't look up from its blank page until Benny sat beside him.
"It was about time you traded seats with Scrawny Boy again," Benny said, dropping his backpack on their shared desk. "He was no easy target."
"What do you mean?" Dean asked, facing Benny. His friend, who regularly had more of a beard than most teachers at school, was clean-shaven. Dean couldn't help but glance back at Castiel's table, noting his light darkness covering his jaw, chin and upper lip. It was as if the entire world had flipped a switch, and Dean was caught in the middle, frozen.
Benny had been staring at the same direction. "Just saying he's not as easy to mess with. He's kinda feisty, that little shit."
Dean looked confused. "Chuck? The guy whose seat I stole and did absolutely nothing about it?"
"That same one." Benny nodded. "I hear he's your baby's new lover boy."
Hearing that entire sentence made Dean choke on his spit. Benny patted his back and chuckled.
"You okay there, brother?"
"Are you sure about that?" Dean asked, trying his best to sound unaffected. "I think they're just friends. Chuck isn't into dudes." Although he wasn't entirely certain, Dean somewhat recalled Jo telling him that she'd hooked up with Chuck once before. It came up a few days after they broke up because Dean had already moved on, and Jo had taken it personally. He never did find out whether she'd been lying or not.
Either way, it wouldn't be hard for anybody to fall for Castiel. Who wouldn't fall for that endearing son of a bitch? Dean smiled fondly at the sight of Cas, and frowned when he met Benny's curious glance.
"I can't believe I'm saying this, but I think you might still have something going on with that nerd." Benny narrowed his eyes on Dean.
Dean shook his head. "I don't give a fuck if they're together." Even saying it made bile rise in his throat.
"If you say so." Benny didn't look all that convinced, but Dean had no energy to stay on the subject.
A few rows behind him, Dean heard them laugh and continue whispering. Almost in secret. Almost intimately.
Finding Sam in a crowded hallway full of hungry teenagers was no easy task, but Dean had one advantage. His brother was the size of a skyscraper, and Dean managed to spot him turning down a corner and exiting through the doors on the side.
He tried to keep his pace, and still not be seen. Wherever Sam was going, whoever he was meeting with, Dean would find out.
As Dean continued following Sam's trail, he spotted Castiel and Chuck sitting across from each other on a brown bench outside of their school building. They were eating lunch together, no big deal. At one point, Cas turned to Dean and a frown appeared on his lips as well as a crease on his brow. Did the sight of Dean really make him that unhappy? He waved away his thoughts. This wasn't the time to worry about Castiel.
Sam continued walking by himself, crossing the busy street. Dean tried to be sneaky, keeping a safe distance between them, and thankfully, Sam never turned around. He rounded the empty building where Dean always ate with his friends, and entered an alley. Dean squatted down and hid behind a large green dumpster as Sam continued forward.
He would have to be careful whenever he stuck his head to the side to follow Sam with his eyes. That's when he felt a hand on his shoulder, starling him. He jerked around and found Castiel bending low behind him, hiding with him.
"Were you following me?" Dean asked, as his heart lost control in his chest. He didn't know if it was because Castiel was there or because Castiel had scared him. Perhaps it was a mixture of both.
Castiel didn't reply, instead he peeked his head beside the dumpster, and hid quickly again. "He's just standing there," Cas said, his eyes never looking at Dean. He kept his vision lowered down, like he was a little boy who'd been yelled at.
"Is he alone?" Dean didn't wait for an answer, he took a look himself.
Reclined against a wired fence, Sammy had pulled out what looked like a cigarette and was lighting it up. It wasn't a simple cigarette. The smell proved it.
"Maybe his drug dealer doesn't go to our school," Cas muttered, chewing on the side of his lip.
Dean tried to lock eyes with Castiel, and he forced himself in his line of vision so the other boy had no other choice but to look at him. And when he did, Dean saw the same vulnerability he'd seen after he kissed him on their last date.
"How did you know I was spying on my brother?" Dean asked. He had a thousand other questions, but something told him Cas wouldn't answer any of them. At least not honestly. Cas had grown fond of sarcasm as of late.
Cas blinked, releasing his lip. He'd chewed on it for a long time and it was now pink and glossy, and Dean's eyes fell on them, craving them. "I don't think you realize the way you were walking."
"What do you mean?"
A faint, amused smile appeared on Castiel's lips. "You were stepping on your toes the whole time, watching your surroundings. It was pretty obvious, Pink Panther."
Dean squinted at Castiel. "I was not."
Castiel's eyes went wide, and then he looked away again. The moment was over.
"I could call the cops, take a picture, or just walk out there and catch him in the act," Dean said, thinking out loud.
"Are you hoping that you'll shame your brother enough so that he stops smoking?" Cas asked slowly. "I thought you knew how to handle it."
"I do," Dean said defensively. "I'm just taking it one step at a time."
"Then handle it," Cas pushed.
"Look, if I tell him I know what he's doing, he's never going to come clean. I need to find out who's selling him that stuff. My brother didn't just stumble upon it."
Cas sighed. "Dean, if I were you, I'd just tell Mary."
Dean rolled his eyes. "Nobody likes a tattletale."
"Fine, I can see my help isn't wanted here. I'm leaving." Cas unfolded his knees and started walking away. Dean glanced from Sam to Cas, and decided to follow after the latter. When he rounded the corner out of the alley, Dean tangled an arm around Castiel's waist and pulled him close before he got away. Unnecessarily rough, Dean pressed Castiel's back against the brick wall. "Let me go," Cas urged, although he didn't struggle when Dean pinned his wrists above his head.
"I need you to answer me one thing," Dean murmured close to his ear. "Why do you insist on making me so angry?" Dean pulled back and stared into Castiel's eyes.
Breathing in sharply, Castiel formed a solid scowl. "I'm not doing anything, Dean. You might just be going insane."
"Chuck?" Dean asked, leaning in closer, until they bumped their noses. "Cas, I don't think you know me that well." He nosed at Cas' jaw, nibbled a line all the way to his earlobe. His stubble tickled Dean's lips in the best way. "I won't be replaced. Not by Chuck or by anyone else." Cas swallowed, and Dean admired the way his Adam's apple bobbed in his throat. Dean kissed it.
"If you think you're being replaced," Cas said, panting. "Then why are you wasting your time with me?"
Dean grinned, pressing his torso to Castiel's, their chests heaving. "It's not time wasted when I am fighting for you." Dean was serious when he spoke the next sentence. "I'm in love with you, and I don't intend to lose you."
Castiel's mouth was slightly open, and Dean pressed his lips softly against his, letting a quiet moan surface from his throat. He pressed himself closer to Castiel's body against the wall, and grinned a victory smile as he felt Cas' fingers tangling in his hair.
It wasn't until the other boy shoved him away that Dean saw the tears that were rolling down Castiel's flushed cheeks. Castiel wiped his tears away with his the back of his hands and stared at Dean for a long moment before he stomped away.