The next morning, Castiel is dragging his feet. He comes to a stop in front of his locker and just slumps against it instead of messing with the hanging lock. The time had flown the previous night at Charlie's and he stayed much later than he intended. Dean drove him home, still making jokes about pretty boy vampires and everything appeared to be once again right with them. Unfortunately, he had Trig and English homework for both him and his ex-crush to do before he could sleep. It had been a very long night.
"Hey Cas."
He immediately lifts his head, turning to see Dean right next to him.
"Nice peach fuzz."
He surprises him by brushing a fingertip along his cheek and Castiel has to clear his throat to cover the silly gasp. He hadn't bothered to mess with shaving this morning and apparently it showed.
"You alright?" Dean has on a satisfied smile that might have annoyed him before they became friends.
"Me? Fine. I'm- I'm fine."
Dean looks past him, calling out a greeting to Charlie and he can breathe again. Castiel turns his back to begin twisting the lock and surreptitiously scratches his cheek to get rid of the feeling of Dean's touch. It was just the dream. Eventually it would fade and he wouldn't be so awkward around him. Hopefully.
"No way! Mages out DPS a warlock any day of the week! And their robes are cuter!"
"Keep dreamin', Red. Warlocks eat Mages for breakfast and then ask for seconds."
Sighing, Castiel tunes them out in favor of focusing on Dean's mouth as he talks and wondering what kind of kisser he is. He lips look very full for a boy's. He notices them twist and looks up to see Dean cocking his eyebrow at him. Embarrassed at being caught, he glances away trying to make it seem smooth instead of jerking his head in the opposite direction.
The warning bell rings and thankfully they start moving. As usual, Michael is waiting outside his class for his daily homework exchange. When Castiel mutters a quick bye, Dean catches his shoulder and turns him back towards him.
"When are you gonna tell that dickbag to take a hike? Or let me do it."
"Dean…"
"I'm not gonna let someone treat you like shit, Cas."
"I told you, its fine. I don't need you making a big deal out of this."
"But-"
"Goodbye, Dean," he raises his eyebrows, waiting.
Dean frowns at him and when it becomes apparent he isn't going to give in, he growls, "Dammit, Cas."
"I appreciate your concern."
"Yeah well I'd appreciate it if you'd let me go slug the sonofabitch."
Castiel ducks his head so Dean doesn't see the smile that causes. Dean bumps him under the chin with a knuckle to make him look back up and says, "later," before turning to walk away.
Seeing him alone, Michael starts coming towards him. As they pass, Dean steps close at the last minute and rams his shoulder into the jock's, spinning him to the side with the force of it.
Michael eyes him up and down. "You got a problem, bitch?"
Dean just keeps walking without looking back. Snorting to himself, Michael shakes his head but doesn't seem in a rush to go after him for a fight. Even though he's the Senior, Dean's built bigger.
As Castiel finds the necessary papers in his bag, for once he doesn't feel bitter or anxious. In fact, right at this moment, he feels positively warm and fuzzy.
Stepping up to him, Michael only gets as far as, "Hey you got-" before Castiel smacks the papers to his chest and keeps on walking towards the doorway to Trig. The other boy has to scramble to catch them and Castiel doesn't look back.
The beginning of lunch is a very distracting time. He barely responds to Charlie's running commentary of Dory's funny texts claiming her History teacher is literally boring her peers to death. Instead he spends it worrying Dean might not come over and then sneaking glances at his group only to be nervous when he sees him kick up his skateboard and walk their way.
Castiel quickly turns to pretend to be engrossed in a conversation with Charlie but of course she's not talking. She raises her eyebrows at him in question.
"Say something."
"Something."
"You are spectacularly unhelpful sometimes," Castiel huffs, abruptly having to cover his mouth for an oncoming yawn.
"Gotta stop staying up so late droolin' over vampires, man." Dean snarks while he straddles the bench next to him. If only it had been fictional vampires that had him salivating.
"It would have been fine if I hadn't had English homework."
Dean's expression sours. "Homework huh?" He looks past him at Charlie and then back to meet Castiel's eyes. "Maybe it's 'cause you got too much, huh?"
Castiel raises an eyebrow in an unspoken sign to change the subject. He didn't need Charlie catching on. "It's fine."
"Unrequited vampy love is worth losing sleep over," Charlie declares, missing what they were actually talking about.
Dean sighs through his nose and lets the subject drop."Anyway, what were we talking about earlier? How much more awesome Warlocks are than Mages?"
Charlie makes an indignant squeak.
"C'mon, Cas. Deciding vote. Warlocks, right? Waaay better?" Dean throws an arm over his shoulder.
"Well, um.. I guess-."
"No! He was my friend first! He picks Mages!"Charlie grabs his hands, like she'll tug him away from Dean and thus sway his decision.
Eyes wide, Castiel tries to remain impartial through the human tug of war they somehow roped him into. "Um... I really don't think-"
"Well he's fair game, now!" Dean laughs. His arm slips over his shoulder, curving around his chest to pull him back against him and reaching around his body to bat away Charlie's grip with his other hand. Castiel almost shivers when Dean turns his head close to his ear and stage-whispers, "Say Warlocks. Come on, man. Guys stick together."
Breathing a little unsteadily, he finally manages to get out the diplomatic answer. "Uh, I'm sure both are equally powerful in different ways."
"Dude." Letting go, Dean sighs like he's disappointed but there's still a grin on his face.
"Aw, weaksauce," Charlie agrees throwing her hands up. "Where's your loyalty?"
Castiel only shrugs, meticulously fixing his shirt and tie until he can handle looking at Dean again.
Another week passes like that, Castiel trying to ignore the way he felt whenever Dean got too close or touched him some innocent way. He invited him back to the skatepark and Charlie wanted him to come over for more marathoning but he had to decline both offers. His nights were occupied with his increased homework load. Thankfully, Friday finally rolls around and he doesn't have to worry about staying up to do homework. Or anyone else's homework.
"So boys, you got plans tonight?" Charlie asks that morning, leaning against his locker as she tosses gummy bears in the air to catch in her mouth.
Dean swipes the bag while she's preoccupied, making her miss and cause a gummy bear casualty. "Gotta work after school."
"You have a job?" Castiel turns to him.
"Yeah. kinda. Singer's Body Shop off of Sheldon Ave belongs to my uncle. Bobby gives me cash under the table sometimes to help out. Not like all the time but ya know when I need it."
Castiel tries to imagine his own uncle as a mechanic and almost laughs out loud. Zachariah probably never had oil under his manicured nails in his life.
"Its how I fixed up dad's car. Sweet '67 Chevy just rusting in the backyard until I got to her. Now she's mine."
He hums noncommittally, getting a little lost in the thought of a sweaty, dirty Dean working under a car. It should be a repulsive image but it was definitely having the opposite effect.
After Charlie snags back her gummy bears, Dean eyes him up and down. "Come by sometime. I'll give you a tune up on the house."
Shaking his head to clear his thoughts, Castiel says, "Oh I don't drive."
"Like you don't have a car or…"
"Well, I um haven't learned yet."
His mother worked too many hours to find extra time to teach him and if he really wanted he could always just sign up for Driver's Ed. Not that the idea of people watching and scrutinizing as he learned a new skill had him jumping to sign up. One day he'd learn but it wouldn't be with thirty of his peers cracking jokes.
"Everywhere I want to go is within walking distance anyway."
"Okay…" Dean rubs his fingertip along his eyebrow like he does when he's thinking. "Well, we'll have to fix that huh?"
Forehead creasing, Castiel asks, "You want to teach me to drive?"
"Sure. If you want."
"Aww," Charlie makes a little noise that he doesn't acknowledge.
"Why?"
"I need a reason?"
The first bell rings and Charlie heads off without waiting for them with a quick, "Welp, I've definitely gotta be early today. So, uh, later!"
Castiel frowns after her, then looks back at Dean as he leisurely busies himself with pulling on his backpack. "Tell you what, Saturday Sam's got this math brainiac competition thing but maybe Sunday? You come over and I could show you a few things?"
He almost says yes but the thought of his uncle's long lecture at missing yet another church service has him wincing in regret.
"Or not. It was just an idea," Dean starts walking.
Falling in beside him, Castiel quickly says, "No it's just… I might have to go to church."
"Oh."
Castiel bites his lip, hating the words as soon as they were out of his mouth. Not that he was ashamed of going exactly but Dean probably thought it was weird. Or uncool. Or whatever.
"Well… that's cool," Dean finally says. "Maybe after?"
Smiling in relief, Castiel considers. If he got out by noon he would have until almost 6 before his uncle showed up.
"Yes, I think I'd like that very much, Dean."
"So..?"
"So, what?" he asks as he sits beside Charlie on their bench later. Today's lunch was tater tots and chicken nuggets. Everything looked about the same size and shape, tasteless orange cubes.
"What happened after I left?"
"Nothing."
"What do you mean nothing?"
"Exactly what I said. Dean offered to give me a driving lesson Sunday, which you would know if you stayed. Why did you leave anyway?"
She looks up about to say something but closes her mouth when she sees Dean walking over. He hadn't even stopped at his other friends today.
"Shh, it's nothing. Like you said. Nothing nothing nothing."
He promptly forgets Charlie's weird question once Dean sits down next to him.
"You're early," he notes, eyes on his uneaten tray of food.
"Hmm, you are early, Dean," Charlie smirks with her head tilted. "Eager to see us or something?"
Taking out his packaged sticky bun, Dean shrugs. "Christ, I can go and come back in ten minutes if you guys want."
"It was just an observation." Castiel says, examining his food. He nibbles his tater tots, letting Dean steal one or two without much of a fight. They only have a few minutes before Dean's friends start wandering over as they sometimes do now. It was annoying but short of telling Dean not to come over, he didn't know how to stop it
"And here they come," he grumbles. "Can they not survive one day without you?"
Dean smirks and leans closer to ask, "Want me all to yourself, huh?"
Castiel rolls his eyes at Dean's following wink.
Pamela is one such new-comer he could do without. She's practically licking her lips at Dean while he's relaying some feat of Ash's at the skatepark yesterday. If it wasn't Jo being cute and sweet, it was this intimidating creature in a pyramid-studded belt, black tank top and black jeans oozing confidence in all the ways he doesn't.
Castiel watches Dean's profile, not really listening. Suddenly, he feels lonely in this small group of people hanging on Dean's every word. Charlie is friends with most of these people too. He preferred when it was just them. He ducks his head, wondering how long until the bell.
Dean uses both hands to imitate a swooping motion as he laughingly describes this "awesome" stunt. When he drops his hand by his side, the tips of his fingers touch the top of Castiel's. Instantly, all of his focus goes to that one spot. Casually as possible, he glances up but Dean just continues the story. He looks over towards Charlie but of course even if he could catch her eye, she can't see what he's trying not to freak out over. Their hands are blocked from sight by Dean's knee.
Swallowing, Castiel wills his fingers not to twitch. Should he just move his hand away? Maybe he doesn't realize it's there. Castiel covertly looks at Dean's face again then back to where their fingers are touching. Mid-sentence, Dean meets his eyes for a brief second before smiling around the next few words. His hand shifts a little more over top his. Castiel's heart beats a mile a minute while he pretends to listen to the rest of the story instead of counting Dean's freckles.
The rest of the day was devoted to re-examining that small touch from every possible angle. He doesn't know what happened. Why it happened. What it meant or how to take it. They'd parted when the bell rang and went to class like nothing had happened and he was left internally panicking. Dean seemed to be a touchy person. He'd gotten used to it, as much as he could but that didn't mean it didn't affect him. Right now this was definitely doing awful amazing things for his imagination.
Alternating between nervous excitement and anxiety, Castiel heads to his locker at the end of the day to drop off his books. It's hard to concentrate on his locker combination when he can't stop smiling. And he still has Sunday to look forward to when a familiar voice interrupts his thoughts.
"Glad to see me?"
Castiel's expression immediately goes blank. Michael grins next to him, obviously catching him smiling to himself like a crazy person.
"What are you doing here?" Castiel all but tosses the books in his locker without looking at the other boy. In all the time he'd spent obsessing over him, he'd never seen Michael this much. Now it seemed he was everywhere.
"Just wonderin' if maybe you reconsidered."
Castiel folds his arms and gives him a level look. "You can't be serious."
"C'mon, I know you want me. All that time, I saw you lookin' and your cheeks would go all pink like a girl's…"
He caresses a path down his cheek. Castiel clenches his jaw and closes his eyes. He would not let this get to him. "That was before."
"Before what?" He glances around for onlookers then leans against the locker next to play with his tie. It reminded him of the way Dean tugged on it sometimes.
"Don't do that."
Michael sighs in annoyance. "Are you seriously this much of a freaking tease? What's the point of playing it up like this?"
Slamming his locker, Castiel starts walking away, deciding ignoring him was the best option. A hand hooked at his elbow pulls him up short.
"Look-"
Castiel jerks his arm out of Michael's grip and turns back. "Careful. Someone might see and think you're gay."
Narrowing his eyes, Michael says, "I'm not gay."
Castiel rolls his eyes.
Michael fists a hand in his shirt and slams him back against a nearby glass case with dozens of shining trophies. "I'm. Not. Gay. If some little twink wants to suck me off or take it… then a hole's a hole. I'm not bending over like some bitch. I'm not fucking gay."
The flickers of fear seep away as Castiel shoves with every bit of anger in him. Michael actually steps back several feet and hits the opposite line of lockers.
"What you are is pathetic."
Michael seems lost for a moment on what to do. A click click of heels has him focusing on a teacher walking their way from the end of the hall.
Castiel sees her too and takes the opportunity to step close to growl, "Do your own damn homework from now on."
He quickly walks away without looking back and hurries across the school to make it to the buses. Only when he's in his seat, staring out the window can he breathe easy and even smile to himself over what he'd just done. Today had been a terrifying, but liberating day.
Dean reaches for the keys at the same time he does and their hands bump.
"Sorry," he blushes and jerks his hand away.
"No it was me," Dean answers. He waits and when Castiel doesn't move to touch them again, Dean turns the key for him from the passenger seat.
He sat through service that morning barely hearing the words of the preacher and the well wishes of people he knew. His mother said all the right things while he impatiently tapped his foot half the time. When the final hymn was sung, he had ducked out through the crowd the first chance he got, avoiding his uncle completely. Now here he was, behind the wheel of Dean's precious, very loud car and practically shaking.
"Now this is my baby. You hurt my baby, we're gonna have issues."
"You're not doing anything to alleviate my nerves. Just so you know." He grips the steering wheel harder, hands at precisely 10 and 2.
"Alright. So left pedal brake. Right, Gas. Put her in gear and let's try it out."
"That's it?" He gasps in disbelief
"You gotta learn by trying, man. Don't worry no one's around."
"You're around."
Dean smiles at that. "Hey, no judging here. Judge-free zone."
They were in a huge empty parking lot of a closed down K-Mart. At least he couldn't hit anything. Castiel turns the key and the loud growl startles him. The car practically vibrates with the engine. Castiel breathes out, breathes in, closing his eyes until Dean covers his hand on the steering wheel.
"You can do this. I promise."
Opening his eyes, he darts a nervous glance at Dean's hand then his face. Dean clears his throat and moves his hand to gesture out to the windshield.
"Ready when you are."
Inhaling deeply one last time, Castiel puts the car in gear while pressing down on left pedal as hard as he can.
"Now take your foot off the brake and put it down- lightly- on the gas."
They lurch forward and Castiel stomps on the brake. Bracing a hand on the dashboard, Dean winces at their abrupt stop.
"Okay try not doing that."
"What?"
"Don't mash the brakes. Just slowly push it down."
"Okay..."
He let's go and rolls a distance before trying it slower and they ease to a stop instead.
"See? Easy. Keep going."
He creeps forward and tries not to jump when the engine revs loudly. "This is anything but easy," Castiel says, body stiff as a board. Knowing Dean is carefully watching him, makes it very hard to stay focused on driving and not self-consciously glance to his right. He successfully completes several tense circuits around the parking lot before pulling to another slow stop where he started.
"Good." Dean cups his neck and squeezes. "You're doing real good, Cas."
He smiles and while turning to Dean accidentally lifts his foot from the brake so they start rolling. He panics and stomps it again. They heave forward in their seats like before.
Instead of scolding him, Dean laughs and tells him to try backing up now.
After an hour of practicing, Dean asks if he's ready for the open road. He doesn't feel ready but then he probably never would. They creep along back streets of quiet neighborhoods, never getting faster than 20 miles an hour. Dean jokes about him, as he puts it, driving like a turtle and Castiel informs him that the speed limit is 25. He doesn't want to accidentally go over it. Dean just chuckles and shakes his head. There's hardly any traffic so it isn't half as scary as he anticipated and with Dean talking to him, he slowly finds himself relaxing. That's when an elderly woman honks excessively from behind them until she finally careens around the Impala. Dean reaches in front of him to lay on the horn at her.
"It's a residential zone, lady!" he yells even though she has no chance of hearing him. "Ah, don't worry about her. You're doin' great, Cas."
He smiles with strain, eyes wide at the road.
After another ten or so minutes, Dean directs him back to his house. He only breathes easy when the engine is off and the car cool ticks.
"Look at you, made it through your first driving lesson."
Castiel puffs out a breath, laughing in relief. "Apparently."
"We'll practice some more another day but you were looking a little green around the gills."
"Yes." He finally uncurls his stiff fingers from the steering wheel. "Thank you."
"So uh, you got time or need to head home?"
Castiel pretends to consider and checks his phone for the time but he already knows the answer.
"I have time."
"Cool.. wanna come in?"
Biting his lip, Castiel nods.
They walk through the quiet house to Dean's room. He crosses his legs on the floor without prompting and Dean joins him, sitting a few feet away. He hooks an arm around a bent knee, without going for the Xbox console and they just sit in awkward silence for a moment.
Dean frowns at the carpet, chewing on the corner of his lower lip then shifts to lean back on his arms.
It's too quiet. Castiel can hear himself breathing and then worries he's breathing too loud. Why isn't Dean saying anything? Nervously, Castiel asks, "Is your dad here?"
"No."
Dean doesn't elaborate so he doesn't ask.
"Um where's Sam?"
Dean seems on edge when he asks, "What are you worried about, man? They're not here."
"Nothing. I was just... nevermind."
Sighing, Dean looks away. "Sorry. He's at Jess's."
"Oh." Seeing an opportunity to naturally work it into the conversation, Castiel asks, "Do you have a girlfriend?"
Dean turns back to stare at him hard. "No, Cas. I don't have a girlfriend."
The silence stretches again, suffocating.
"Why, would you care if I did?"
"What? No. Why would I care?" Castiel's eyes lower as he picks at the carpet.
Dean gets up abruptly. He only has a second to stare in confusion at the empty doorway before he comes back with a beer and a coke for him.
"You mind?" he asks, already popping the tab.
"No."
Castiel doesn't open his, just traces the rim with a finger and rubbing away the condensation. It feels like Dean is mad at him, the way he takes a deep swallow and then glares at the beer in his hand. After noticing him looking at it, Dean wordlessly offers him the can. As if he had something to prove, Castiel takes it and takes a quick sip, grimacing at the taste.
"Yeah takes some getting used to."
"I wouldn't know."
Castiel takes another larger sip and hands it back, mind reeling at the fact that Dean could just go get a beer from what he assumes was his father's supply, anytime he wants. "Where's your mom?"
He didn't think, it just popped out of his nervous mouth. Dean frowns, flicking the tab of the can instead of answering.
"Nevermind. You don't have to answer that."
"No it's cool. She's, ya know, gone."
"Oh, I'm sorry. I really didn't mean to ask."
Dean stares at the beer in his hand, shrugging. "Happened a long time ago." After a minute, he asks, "Don't suppose you'd wanna talk about that thing we're not supposed to talk about?"
Castiel tenses, barely resisting looking at his arms but they were covered. "Dean..."
"How 'bout a scar for a scar."
He didn't want to say some scrape he got from a skateboarding mishap didn't exactly compare. It didn't come with intimate exposed feelings.
"Forget it. Stupid idea."
Reluctantly Castiel says, "No. It's okay. Just this once." He had brought up Dean's mom after all. Maybe this would make them even.
Dean lifts up his jeans leg to his knee and pushes down his sock to show a nasty burn taking up about half of his calf on one side. Castiel tilts his head to see all of it. It's an old scar, the skin light and shiny in spots, puckered and rough in others. It must have been excruciating.
"Fire," Dean says eying it too. "I was like 4, almost 5. Got caught on the way out." He presses his lips hard and finishes, " Mom didn't make it."
Dean covers it back up. He doesn't know what to say except, "I'm so sorry, Dean." It seemed so insufficient.
Nodding, he says, "yeah, me too."
After several long silent moments, Dean looks up at him and clearly it's time.
Blowing out a heavy breath, Castiel considers before lifting his own pant leg revealing a collection of long scars down by his ankle all in a row like tallies.
"It was the first week my brother left for college. He lives on campus."
Even though he knew Gabriel would be back, he had felt abandoned. At the moment he'd done them, he'd never felt so alone. A few years old, they were faded but still very obvious because of their uniformity.
Dean traces one with a finger. "What's your mom say."
"She doesn't." He tries not to shiver from Dean touching him.
"C'mon, Cas," he says like he doesn't believe him.
"No I mean..." He squirms a little at having to put all of this into words. "She doesn't like conflict. She wants to believe I fell or tripped or got scratched by a cat. I think it's easier to believe whatever excuse I tell her."
He had a feeling his mother was happy to think she never had to worry about him. Gabriel had always been the troublemaker. The prankster. The one she got phone calls from the principle about him starting a fire in chem class. Castiel was supposed to be her angel. He got good grades and if he wasn't at home he was at Charlie's.
Dean's eyebrows stay together in disapproval.
"Your pop?"
Castiel shakes his head. "He left when my mother was pregnant with me." He picks at that same spot at the carpet, not really seeing it.
They never heard from him and his mom doesn't talk about him. He begged Gabriel to tell him what he remembered of their father when he was young but it was precious little, some of which he's sure now his brother made up. The chances were low that his father was an astronaut.
"Don't misunderstand me, she works really hard. And me and Gabe couldn't have been easy to raise alone. It's just… we don't talk about the hard stuff. I could never talk to her about…" he gestures to his leg. "We're just not close like that."
Dean doesn't answer. He hasn't been brave enough to look up from the scar to see Dean's face and it's too quiet.
"And it doesn't happen very often," he adds in a small voice.
"Don't feed me that. If you have to lie, don't say anything."
Castiel purses his lips but doesn't leap to assure him anymore.
Dean reaches forward and covers the marks on his leg with his hand. Castiel finally looks up at him, feeling the warmth of his palm there was some kind of acceptance. Dean sees him and doesn't think he was some kind of freak.
Their gazes travel over each other's face until Castiel feels his eyes sting as he has to look away.
"Can I have a beer, please?"
Dean gets up and seems to take extra long, allowing Castiel to compose himself. He comes back with a laptop he assumes is Sam's after hitting a few buttons music starts up, languid and rhythmic. "This is Pink Floyd. Learn it. Love it."
Dean pops his beer tab and hands it over. He smiles over the rim of his own drink while he watches Castiel take his third ever sip of beer. He still grimaces around the swallow but tries not to let Dean see it. After a few more tries, he realizes the quicker he gulps it, the less he tastes.
Dean raises an eyebrow in apparent admiration at how quickly he's done.
"Damn dude, I feel like I'm corrupting you or something," he says tipping his own can up to finish it.
Castiel leans back with his arms behind him, stretching like he's seen Dean do. Dean's eyes do a little sideways tour of him before he smirks and shakes his head.
"I believe corruption would take more than one beer."
Dean scrunches his face up like he's debating a bad idea before nodding once. "Think you're right. Anyway it's a celebration, right? First time driving and all."
Castiel tilts his head to openly watch his butt when Dean gets up to leave. How had he never noticed Dean had such a lovely butt? He wonders absently if people ever wrote poems about butts. Probably the Greeks. They were very much into the human form.
"Whatcha thinkin' about so serious?" Dean asks when he sits beside him and hands him another can.
"The Greeks." He innocently says, popping his own tab this time.
It doesn't even taste that bad anymore. The music is mellow, flowing around them hypnotically and he sways to it unconsciously after a few more swallows. His muscles are starting to relax and there's this curious burning in his stomach that is not at all unpleasant.
"Yo, maybe you should slow down some..."
Castiel turns to him and shakes his can to show it's empty. "How can I slow down when there's nothing left?"
"Or not."
"Maybe you should speed up." Without asking, he swipes Dean's can for a few more sips before he manages to wrestle it back.
"Jesus, I've created a monster.".
"Growl," he deadpans without inflection and Dean tips his head back to laugh.
He stretches out even further, crossing his feet at the ankle. Seeing his socks, he frowns.
"Where are my shoes?"
"You took 'em off like literally a minute ago."
"Oh, did I?" He smirks at Dean for no good reason and Dean smiles back.
"Feeling good?"
"Mmm." Castiel tries to stop smiling only to ruin it by laughing. "Exceptionally good."
Dean snorts. "Figures you'd be a wordy drunk. And to think your butt was in a pew singin' Hallelujah this morning."
"Stop trying to talk about my butt."
Castiel's proud when Dean almost chokes on his mouthful of drink. He nods to himself. He was funnier with beer. Why had he not done this before? Talking to Dean like this was almost effortless. He doesn't feel any of the awkwardness that he always carries with him like a second passenger. Everything just seems… easier.
Dean licks his thumb clean of the dripping beer and wow that is suddenly very fascinating. "So since you're feelin' so good and all, tell me something."
"Like what?"
"Anything. People tend to be all kinds of honest when they're buzzed."
"Hmm, that doesn't seem very fair."
"Hey you asked me for the beer."
"True." Castiel blows out a breath, swaying his head a little from side to side while he thinks. "I…"
I want to feel how scratchy your cheeks are.
I've only kissed one person but I would like you to be my second.
I sometimes imagine you naked on top of me.
"I don't loathe you anymore." That was definitely honest.
"Oh well that's nice," Dean chuckles, finishing his can and putting it behind him.
"Your turn."
"We're taking turns huh? Okay... I never loathed you."
Castiel grins. "I suppose you're just too nice to loathe anyone."
Dean rolls his eyes. "I'm not that nice, Cas."
"Oh wait no!" Castiel lurches towards him and Dean has to catch his shoulder to keep him from face planting. "No you really loathe Michael. And jocks. And Godfather 3."
"I don't got a problem with jocks. Usually."
"Right. Benny. He wears a hat."
Dean cuffs the back of his neck and leans closer to whisper conspiratorially, "I think two beers is your limit, lightweight."
Castiel grins and gets up on his knees, putting both hands on his friend's shoulders. They were such nice shoulders. "Dean."
He forgets whatever he meant to say and instead stares at his mouth. Licking out over his own bottom lip, he raises his gaze to see Dean's eyes go wide. He blinks hard to try and focus but he's tipping forward losing his balance. Castiel drops his head to burrow into the warmth of Dean's neck. God, he smells so good.
Dean's arm tentatively comes up behind his back to steady him. It's almost like they're hugging and it feels wonderful. Later this will probably be embarrassing but right now he can't think of a reason why.
"I still have your shirt," he says out of nowhere.
Dean pulse beats fast under his cheek and he nuzzles against it.
"Yeah, I know."
"I don't want to give it back."
Dean laughs a little shakily and he feels it in the chest he's lying against. He's so comfortable… Dean is like the most comfortable pillow, smells so good.
"I'm sorry," he mumbles, not sure what he's apologizing for.
Next to his ear, he hears Dean's gruff voice. "Don't ever be sorry, man."
Castiel wakes in a haze, blinking to figure out where he is. Rubbing his eyes, he sees the over-lapping posters covering the wall to his right and sinks further into the pillow under his head. He's in a bed. He's in Dean's bed. He's in Dean's bed?
Castiel looks up to see he had been curled around Dean leg while he was playing video games on mute. Glancing down, Dean hits pause and tosses the controller down.
"Hey sleepyhead, you want-"
"What time is it?!"
He shoots up in a sudden panic, knocking Dean's chin painfully. They both groan and Castiel holds his head. His eyes are dry and he has an awful headache.
"Uh I dunno like 5?"
"Damnit. I have to go! Now, right now."
"Okay, Okay."
Castiel braces on the edge of the bed and then gets up with a small grunt.
"You're not dizzy or anything right? You didn't have that much."
"No just my head…"
"Alright," Dean grabs him by the shoulders from behind and steers him into a small connecting bathroom.
"Splash water on your face. Rinse your mouth out with the blue stuff there. I'll get some Tylenol."
Dean leaves for a second while he does what he's told. The cold water helps clear his head and he feels a little less groggy. Dean returns with a cup that filled with water and sets it next to his elbow, then brushes past him in the tight space to open the medicine cabinet. He throws down a towel down at the corner of the sink.
After gulping down the entire glass with the two pills, he starts to rush towards the door but Dean yells that he needs his shoes.
Looking down, he sighs.
"You're gonna be okay, alright?" Dean says, checking him between watching the road. "Try to eat something when you get home."
"That shouldn't be a problem," Castiel mumbles with his eyes closed and head resting against the window.
Sunday Dinner. Anything sounded better than Sunday dinner right now. Going back to Dean's sounded fantastic. Did he really sleep in Dean's bed? How'd he get there? Dean had to have moved him. How embarrassing.
The car stops.
"We're here. How ya feelin'?"
Castiel didn't know if he should apologize or just leave. He was slowly picking through the memories that were coming back to him.
"Cas?"
Castiel quickly straightens when he sees his mom coming outside. "Do I look… okay?"
Dean fixes his collar for a second then pats his cheek lightly. "You're fine."
He gets out, as does Dean does, folding his arms on top of the car to watch him.
"Introduce me to your friend, Cassie."
His mother is smiling with raised eyebrows at Dean. Dean whose bed he'd just slept in. Dean who gave him beer. Dean who he sometimes had embarrassingly hot daydreams about. Castiel chews his bottom lip, anxiety quietly spiking. "Um, well this is Dean."
His mom smiles and waves. Dean smoothly says, "Nice to meet you Ms. Novak," looking natural and positively chipper.
"Please, call me Sarah. Would you like to join us for dinner, Dean? I made a ham."
Dean's mouth falls open. He's practically licking his lips and Castiel panics that he might accept. Too many awful scenarios play out in flashes and it must show on his face because after Dean glances at him, he shakes his head.
"Thanks but my dad has dinner waiting for me at home."
He knows Dean is lying and yes he feels that much more awful about it but really, he was doing him a favor. No one deserved to be subjected to his uncle.
"Oh well next time then."
"Sure," he smiles and says, "Later, Cas."
Zachariah is inside folding his arms. "And just where have you-"
He holds up a hand. "Please stop yelling."
"I suppose you're sick again."
He doesn't answer, just makes a beeline to the table. "We started without you. If you think you're just going to swan in here whenever you feel like it.."
Castiel grabs a roll, turns and walks into his room, closing the door behind him.
"Castiel!"
He doesn't listen to the voices outside his bedroom. He eats the roll because Dean said to eat and then lies face down on the bed. His headache is mostly gone but sleep still sounded like a great idea. He's just about to drift off when suddenly, Castiel pushes up on his arms.
"Oh god," he groans aloud.
He fell asleep on Dean. Wrapped around him like a spider monkey. Just now when he really takes the time to remember it all, he recalls rubbing against his neck like an affectionate cat, oh god.
Beer was evil. Never never again.