Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/2512823.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Sam_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel, Sam_Winchester, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Soulmates, Alternate_Universe_-_High_School, Falling_In_Love, Hand_Jobs,
      Making_Out, Come_Shot, Tooth-Rotting_Fluff, Fluff_and_Smut, Virgin
      Castiel, Virgin_Sam, 30_Day_Cheesy_Tropes_Challenge
  Series:
      Part 25 of 30_Day_Cheesy_Tropes_Challenge
  Stats:
      Published: 2014-10-26 Words: 1946
****** Day Twenty Five: High School ******
by Invictusimpala
Summary
     Castiel will only ever see in black and white until he meets his soul
     mate. When he meets him, it's better than he could have ever
     imagined.
Notes
     Day twenty five! I like playing with colors in my fics, so this was
     extremely fun. I don't ever specify who Dean's soul mate is, no
     gender or age or anything, so read it as you please. It's marked
     underage because they're in high school, uh, yeah. Thank you so much
     for reading, enjoy :)
See the end of the work for more notes
Castiel is sick of seeing in black and white. He absolutely loathes it. With
Dean, though, it’s sort of better.
When they touch their fingertips together, he can see some reds, maybe a blue
or two, but never more than that. It’s better than different shades of grey,
however, and for that he’ll be forever thankful.
Dean says he sees the grass but that’s it.
He doesn't love Dean in the right way for them to work out, he thinks. It’s not
romantic, it’s just purely platonic, and the amount of times they've had to
explain that to people is innumerable.
The sky is a bright white today, and Castiel stares up at it for some time.
It’s a thing within society to not tell people what colors things are so as not
to spoil the surprise.
He doesn't know what color the sky is, but it looks like a light color. Maybe a
pink or a soft orange.
The trees are darker this time of year, and he would guess the leaves are a
purple color or a dark blue as their life fades with the cold.
Everything else is just dark.
Castiel likes to take walks through nature. Sometimes if he touches a tree or a
leaf, he thinks that he can see the color, just a shadow of it, and it makes
him feel better about being blind to it.
He hopes that maybe one day he can find his soul mate. It would make life a lot
easier.
When you find your soul mate, when you touch them, the world bursts into a
colorful place like it’s supposed to be.
When you meet someone who is the opposite of you, you see colors reverted.
Although, that’s a rumor he’s not sure is true. He hopes he never runs into his
opposite. He wants to see the world as it is, not a blurred perception,
censored and masked like this way.
He knows even dogs have a better color spectrum going for them, and it makes
him almost angry.
Dean finds his soul mate a year later, as they’re entering junior year, and he
says the world is beautiful. Just stunning.
Castiel is so jealous he cuts off ties with Dean for a long time. When he
realizes he’s being ridiculous, he moves on. He calls Dean back and they hang
out for a long time, watch a movie and eat popcorn even though Dean can see
what it really looks like and he can’t.
The people dancing on the screen are dark blurs, and the background is a
mixture of that and a paler grey.
He huffs a frustrated sigh.
“Hey, Dean, you home?” He hears a voice call. It must be Sam.
Cas has never met Sam because he’s busy working through school and over at
friend’s houses whenever Cas goes over to their house.
Sam is tall and lanky, not quite grown into his body yet, and his hair is long,
almost to his shoulders. Castiel has the sudden urge to run his fingers through
it.
He wishes Dean would touch him, let him see Sam a little better, but ever since
meeting his soul mate, he’s refrained from touching Castiel altogether.
Sam smiles at him, a wide thing that makes it impossible to return. He sticks
his hand out to shake his own outstretched one, beaming back.
“I’m Castiel.”
“Sam. I've heard a lot about yo -- holy shit.”
As their skin meets, Castiel is blinded. He has to blink a few times to get his
eyes to adjust.
Dean is looking at them dumbly, smiling and gazing between the two of them, but
Castiel can only see the faint outline of him doing it.
His pupils contract and dilate, trying to find the right way to see things.
When he finally can see, there are a million little colors everywhere. It’s
like a whole new world.
Dean is tan, muscular, although he already knew that. His eyes are a bright
green, and his hair is not quite blond, but not brown, sandy.
Sam is tanner, and his eyes are hazel, a deeper shade of green around the
outer-ring of his iris. His hair is a dark brown, and he’s rubbing at his eyes,
blinking comically. There are red chairs in Dean's kitchen he thought were
yellow, and the floors are white like he guessed. He runs to get outside,
whipping open the door as he looks up at the sky.
Blue.
The trees -- green, red, yellowing at the tips.
There are clouds in the sky he couldn't see before because of how white the sky
seemed, and they’re gorgeous.
When he turns, Sam is standing next to him, jaw dropping as he looks around.
He looks tired, bags under his eyes. Castiel can see more defined lines in his
face, Sam's lips a pale pink, his ears red and cheeks flushing.
Sam turns to Castiel and studies him much the same.
Dean is leaving them alone, thank god, it gives him time to just look without
being teased.
Sam reaches for Castiel’s palms, holding them in his own and looking them over,
front and back.
His veins are blue underneath his skin, and the skin of his wrist is paler than
the rest of him. His hair is a dark brown, almost black.
“What color are my eyes?” Castiel asks quietly.
“Blue.” Sam presses a kiss to his wrist, and his breath catches. “What color
are mine? What do I look like?”
“Your eyes are a dark green, almost hazel. You are very handsome, Sam. Your
hair is a dark brown, your skin is red on your cheeks and ears. You look
kindhearted. Your lips are pink and so is your nose. It’s cold, let’s go
inside.”
“No, I don’t want to talk to Dean right now, just you.”
“What do I look like?” Sam pulls him closer, looking closely.
“Your lips are really pale, you need some chap-stick. Your eyes are so bright .
. . I wish mine were like that. You’re . . . you’re gorgeous.” Sam breathes.
They are so close together now, mouths only inches apart. Cas closes that
distance until it’s nothing, their lips pressed together.
Sam makes a happy noise in the back of his throat as he cups Castiel’s jaw in
his palm. His hands are warm and rough, his skin calloused.
His lips are wet and he licks into Castiel’s mouth, arm around his waist to
pull their hips together. Everything is so intense. He didn't realize it would
be.
With Sam . . . finally everything is perfect.
“Need you.” Sam gasps, and Castiel nods, breaking away to breathe. He closes
his eyes, tilting his head back so Sam can continue kissing his skin.
The sky is so bright, so blue, it’s mesmerizing to watch the clouds float away.
He hears the roar of the impala, and Dean waves out the window, yelling at Sam
to keep the volume down for the night, he’s staying with his soul mate until
they calm down.
Sam tugs him up the stairs, opening a door labeled ‘Sam’ respectively, and then
he’s meeting Sam’s mattress.
Sam follows him there, pulling him down so he can reach Cas’ mouth, pulling
layers of clothing off. Sam’s shirts are easy enough, just unbuttoning things,
but Castiel has to move away from Sam’s eager mouth to pull his tee over his
head.
Sam grunts, irritated as he throws it to the side.
“Good riddance.” Cas laughs, and it’s cut off by Sam, along with his reply.
Cas fumbles for the button on Sam’s jeans, his soul mate panting into his mouth
as he rubs at his hard cock through the fabric.
Cas pulls them off, and Sam kicks them the rest of the way. He helps Castiel
get his pants and boxers off, and then Sam is naked against him too, boxers
lost sometime between kissing and fumbling to get all the way on the bed.
Sam moans and ducks his head as Cas takes him in hand, experimenting with how
to hold his arm so it’s best for the both of them.
“How f-far are we goin’ here, Cas?”
“This is good.” Sam nods into the crook of his neck, pressing wet lips there,
breath hot as Cas jacks him off.
Sam is flushed from his toes to the top of his head, cock swollen in Castiel’s
hand, bucking his hips which are bruised from his hands. His cock is red,
flushed and leaking as Cas twists his hand this way and that, tightening and
loosening his grip as needed.
Sam comes with a whine, staring at Castiel as he does. His eyes roll back in
his head as Cas strokes him through it, thumbing at the head.
Sam flails as he gets his arms under him, his hand shaking as he grips
Castiel’s cock a little too hard. Cas grunts.
“Sorry, sorry.” Sam sounds breathless, and it sends a zing of pleasure down
Castiel’s spine. He made Sam sound like that, all him.
Castiel moans loudly when Sam finds a rhythm. He’s never done this with anyone,
only himself, and it feels amazing. The color, the sound, Sam, all of it is too
much and not enough at the same time.
Castiel’s back bows, arching into Sam’s touch as his come streaks up his chest,
past his shoulders, obscenely white as it splatters between their bellies.
He’ll have to help Sam clean up after this, but he’s too focused on how good he
feels.
He can feel it start in his toes, flooding up through the fire in his gut, up
the burning of his spine, settling as a fog in his brain as he orgasms so hard
he sees stars, and this time, they’re in color. That makes him call out.
“Sam!” He cries, and Sam’s breath hitches. “Sam, oh god, don’t stop, don’t
stop, please.”
Sam keeps up the flick of his wrist, the tightness of his palm as Castiel
thrashes.
His come is all over Sam’s chest, or maybe that is Sam’s, he’s not sure, and he
whimpers as he comes down, slumping in the wet spot.
He closes his eyes, but he knows Sam is watching him.
“Sam,” he rasps, and Sam gathers Castiel’s limp body into his arms, rolling
them over.
“Cas, Cas.”
“M’right here.”
“Closer.”
They lay like that for a while until the drying come on their skin becomes
uncomfortable.
Sam takes a shower first, a quick one at that, and then it’s Castiel’s turn. He
washes his body, foaming the soap up, and he can hear Sam changing the sheets
and the pillow cases.
He gets out, and on the bed is a fresh change of clothes which are just light
grey sweats with a drawstring.
He slips them on and falls into the bed. Sam comes in a few minutes later,
looking even more beat, eyes about to slip closed where he stands. Cas opens
his arms as an invitation that Sam accepts.
Sam snuggles into Cas, head on his chest, and it’s amusing because Sam is so
tall, but it works.
“We should do that again before Dean comes back and then we can talk about what
we’re gonna do about all this.” He waves a hand in the air and lets it fall
back against Cas, the sound of slapping skin echoing in the room as Sam smacks
Cas' side.
Cas hums.
“I need a nap first.”
“M’k.”
Sam snores in his ear the entire time, but it’s still the best sleep he’s ever
had, and this time, his dreams are filled with color, bright and alive just
like how he feels now.
End Notes
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