A/N: Alright- so I decided to just go through with this and see where it leads. :P That prolly sounds real reassuring, but oh wells. It's just how I work. Herp derp.
Please lemme know what you're thinking of this! I kinda have no idea what I'm doing so all comments/criticisms/suggestions are welcome.
The next time you see your mystery boy, you are reluctantly walking towards the entrance to the miniscule high school just on the outskirts of town. He is sitting on the low brick wall that separates the outside eating area from the sidewalk, a cigarette cradled in his fingers and smoke curling around his tongue. The grey sweater he is wearing is about two sizes too big and the sleeves keep falling down no matter how many times he shoves them past the crook of his elbow. The collar of it hangs low enough to prominently display the love bite from earlier and for a moment you find yourself inexplicably pleased. But as you continue to look you can see other bruises blooming across his skin that weren't there this morning and these definitely aren't the loving kind.
Without asking for any permission from your mind, your legs carry you to him as fast as possible and once you are there you hold onto his knees and try to catch his gaze. When you finally do it takes him a second to come back from wherever he had gotten lost within his thoughts. "Oh, hey Dean." His voice, his smile, his trembling hands all make him suddenly seem so fragile and he is completely different than the boy from before. It hurts you to see the change in him and you pay no mind to all the looks that are being shot in your direction. You may have only met him just a day before, but you feel something with this boy so real you can't turn your back on it.
You don't ask him if he's okay, you don't ask if he wants company, you don't ask what happened, you just take his hand and drag him off the wall and away from all the stares. "C'mon, I'm gonna take you somewhere." is all you offer him as you walk, still holding his hand, off of school grounds. This seems to be enough for him as he picks up the pace so that you are walking side by side and offers a drag off of his cigarette. You take a drag and give him a disapproving head-shake as spiced smoke fills your lungs. "Whatever happened to good ol' menthols? No one smokes menthols anymore- it's all about weed and cloves and shit." You get a chuckle out of him at that and he moves more into your personal space so he can steal the smoke back, but doesn't move back once he has it.
"Where are we going?"
He whispers, for what reason you don't know, but you find yourself whispering back just for kicks, "It's a secret- patience!" He flicks the butt out into the street before you cross into a field that seems as though it just might stretch on forever. He doesn't ask any more questions as the two of you just walk. You walk, and walk, and the silence is never uncomfortable and your hands never get sweaty and your limbs never get tired. For a while you think that if he would let you, you would keep on walking until your legs gave out, but your second "date" of sorts might be a bit early for running away together. So instead you walk until you reach the first dilapidated fence and just drop to the ground. He looks down at you for a few seconds before shrugging and falling down beside you.
Once he does you prop yourself up on an elbow and reach for the collar of his shirt. He catches your eyes and doesn't look anywhere else as you slide it over and down his shoulder to reveal the pale skin covered in dark splotches. He still doesn't move as you lean forward and begin laying soft kisses on each spot of damaged skin you can reach. He says nothing, does nothing as you continue on and for a while it is just this. And it's enough. As you nuzzle into the crook of his neck he finally lets out an exaggerated sigh, "Alright! Fine, you win." He smirks at your confusion before kissing you between the brows and whispering into your ear, "You can call me Cas."