The whir of projectiles around his head, the rush of the hunt, the blood pounding in his ears; Dean dove behind another obstacle and spun onto his knee, sliding in the leaves as he picked up his gun and mercilessly fired shots at a moving figure a few yards off. A cry met each shot and he grinned darkly as he got to his feet with triumph. "That's the last one," He called, and threw down his plastic mask. "Game!" At the sound of him breaking cover, all the exposed players lifted their guns and pelted him with what was left in their paintball cartridges. He yelped and held up his hands but they were no defense. He was laughing by the time it was over, and laughter met him, warm hands grabbing his shoulders and arms.

"Nice going, Winchester," Benny said, stoic but smiling by his side, and the rest of the rugby team continued to congratulate and tease him. They tossed their paintball guns into the pile and began to count shots. Teasing Dean for being covered in points, they pushed each other around and joked until it was four 'o clock. Time to head back. Their early paintball match had been called hastily when their English class cancelled. They'd grabbed as many of the rugby team as possible and Dean and run to get a game in before sunset.

"See you next Tuesday, Dean," the team captain called, leading the others off down the mountain path to campus. It was thick with foliage and there were plenty of places to slip and fall if you weren't careful, but they would have it no other way.

Benny hung back and crossed the paintball field to Dean as he fumbled with his vest. "Good job out there, man." He smirked. "When will we be able to shoot up that roommate of yours? The way you rant about him is like you two are married."

Dean laughed a bit sarcastically, rubbing blue paint from his chin. "Well, not exactly. But we're damn close. He doesn't like this kinda stuff though – he's artsy, not really sportsy."

Benny bobbed his head. "Ok, ok. Doesn't mean he can't come by sometime, meet the boys." He glanced Dean over. "You look better, brother."

"I feel better. Bobby talked me out of a tight corner; I guess I just needed somebody to bust my balls, you know?"

"I hear you there. I heard from him that you had a rough time. He didn't tell me much, but…" The shuffle of equipment and the zip of Dean's bag filled an awkward silence between them. Taking a deep breath, Benny sighed, glancing around. "Can I ask you something, Dean?"

Dean nodded nervously, glancing at Benny as he slung his duffel bag over his shoulder and shook out his jeans. "Yeah, shoot, man."

Benny's blue eyes were like needles piercing his façade. He stared right into Dean, who wilted. "I've mowed through three girls already, and you talked nothing but tail 'til a week before your crash. For all your words you ain't touched a single one this year." His tone was so careful that it killed Dean. "Not to be judgmental – I'm not – but… Are you... you know… bumpin' uglies with Cas, by chance?" He asked hesitantly.

Shock hit Dean like a freight train. Over their passed few get-togethers, Dean had been changing. He'd been less sexual about girls consciously – thinking and talking mostly about Cas – although they still appealed to him. A pair of legs in daisy dukes still turned him on. It just less about them and more about how they looked, rather than wanting one. He was happy now. Like a married man, actually. So he'd talk to the boys about them, but not about regular sex slandering them.

He'd thought he did it pretty smoothly, too. Guess not. Benny had noticed. Shit, what now?

Blinking, Dean swallowed, tilting his head to the side a bit as he glanced away. "That's a way to put it." His gut was roiling with anxiety suddenly, his heart kicking into overdrive.

"I'm sorry, brother, I don't mean to pry – you know me," Benny pressed, "I figured I'd make damn sure before I made any assumptions, you know?" He shrugged and pushed his hands into his coat pockets, motioning for Dean to walk with him. "I just wanted to be straight with you." Obliging, Dean watched him carefully as he studied the gravel. The rugby man just shook his head. "You, though. I'd have never guessed."

"Me either, Benny, trust me," Dean replied, still tense. "Are we going to have a problem with it? Here, around, in general? I'm not up for causing any trouble – you know that." He added quickly.

Benny shook his head again, squinting over at Dean as they walked down the jagged path, sunlight dappling over their heads. "No, man. There's no problem. You don't treat us different, why should we treat you different?"

Dean's tension melted. He nodded in relief, finding a smile on his lips.

Benny thought a minute. "If the boys ask, what do you want me to tell them?"

"Tell them whatever you want, brother, I don't have anything to hide," Dean said honestly. "I'm not out to get anybody and I haven't changed. I'm still the same guy you met this year. Just… different. A little." Benny nodded in agreement, and nudged his shoulder before bidding him good-bye and taking a separate path to the bottom of campus, where his dorm building was. He vanished through the trees as Dean began to head down to the road. It was a long walk back to his own building.

So Benny had been entirely cool with it. Dean buzzed with happiness, each spring in his step reloaded with elation as he strode along the asphalt. He had an ally. Another ally. Bobby, and now Benny… probably Garth soon, and even Samandriel, although he wasn't as close. Who else? He racked his brain. Maybe he'd find out sooner than later.

Climbing the steps to his building, he unlocked the door and pushed his way inside and headed to his dorm room. The halls weren't as empty as they usually were. A few kids floated here and there, laughing and talking, or on the phone. Dean nodded to them as he passed and got weird looks, which wasn't unusual. A few jocks were laughing when he passed but he didn't assume it was about anyone he knew.

He was about to turn a corner when a hand grabbed his elbow. Turning in alarm, Dean saw it was just Samandriel, hovering like a ghost behind a crowd of kids. "What's up, Sam?" Dean questioned curiously.

"It's Castiel," Samandriel replied quickly, glancing Dean up and down. "He got into it with a kid in his art class today. They fought over Cas being gay. This kid just exploded all over him, and Cas got him back, but Castiel ran off – and he wasn't in any of his other classes." He clenched his jaw. "The news spread like wildfire. It's all over the school. Everybody knows about it, Dean. Everybody."

Dean stared at him. "What?" He blurted.

"Everybody knows you two are gay," Samandriel hissed, whispering now.

All the blood drained from Dean's face. "Oh." He wheezed.

Teachers. Girls. Other guys… all of the other guys. It was like the floor opened up beneath him and flung him through a portal into space. His lungs were squeezed. His entire body felt lighter, and empty, like he was drifting. Dizziness washed over him and at once his heart cried out for him to bolt. "Thanks, Sam. K-Keep an eye out, ok?" He managed, and shook Sam's arm gratefully before turning to walk as quickly as possible to his room. The pity in the other boy's eyes was genuine as he melted back into the crowd.

Fumbling with the keycard, Dean pushed the gently buzzing door open and threw his stuff aside, shutting the door carefully behind him. He went right to Cas's bed, where his roommate was sitting with his forehead against the wall and his legs crossed, blankets and pillows mounded around him. "Cas," he voiced with gentle worry. "I'm so sorry, buddy."

"You heard?" Came the deep monotone.

Biting his lip, Dean sat beside him on the bed, legs dangling off the side. Then he reached over the blankets and put his warm hand on Cas's thigh. "I heard." He replied quietly. "I wish I coulda been there for you."

"It's fine. I'm fine." Castiel sat back and rubbed his face wearily. "Everyone knows?"

Dean nodded hesitantly. "Yes."

"God," Cas choked unexpectedly, and for the first time Dean looked over, and could see the roughness of his eyes and nose, the blotchy white and red patches on his cheeks. He'd been killing himself over this since this morning.

Dean's heart throbbed. "Cas," he whispered, moving his hand to Cas's other shoulder and pulling him in. Like a crumbling building Castiel crumpled into his lap, and they sat in silence, Dean's paint stained fingers running through Cas's soft black hair and the gravity of the situation sinking into both of them… slowly but surely.

The site is not allowing me to enter new chapters into the Doc Manager. I am currently resolving that problem, but until then bear with me patiently.