Posted originally on the Archive_of_Our_Own at https://archiveofourown.org/
works/748074.
  Rating:
      Explicit
  Archive Warning:
      Choose_Not_To_Use_Archive_Warnings, Underage
  Category:
      M/M
  Fandom:
      Supernatural
  Relationship:
      Castiel/Dean_Winchester
  Character:
      Castiel, Dean_Winchester
  Additional Tags:
      Underage_Sex, Underage_Drinking, First_Time
  Stats:
      Published: 2013-04-04 Words: 5332
****** Fragmentary Light ******
by Narcissistic_Ninny
Summary
     Cas is about to admit something to Dean that will drive him away from
     his life.
                                      **
 
 
“You don’t have friends, do you?” Dean asked.
Cas sat quietly, hating Dean for asking that question. “No, I don’t,” he said.
Dean smirked at his response.
 
 
                                      **
 
 
The thick covers were up to his ear. He lay on his side, his back to the open
window, a gentle breeze blowing inside the stillness of the room. He could hear
the leaves from the maple tree right out his window rustling together, stray
crunchy leaves scraping along the street. There were crickets outside as well;
he could hear a couple of them, in a chorus of croons echoing all around.
He tapped his cell phone that lay next to his head on his fluffed pillow, and
immediately, blue light illuminated his bedroom, bleeding onto the walls in a
pale cerulean glow. The bold white letters on the screen of his phone read 2:13
am.
Dean would stop by soon, sneak in after he climbed the tree and stepped in
through the window that Castiel left open for him. Or he would send Cas a text
message, one that he sent every time he wanted to go out and take a drive in
his Impala, their destination always unknown, even to Dean. The message always
simply reading, ‘come outside.’
Not long after, there was a familiar even humming of a motor that his ears had
grown accustomed to, and he heard the muscle car park on the street outside his
house, and the powerful engine turn off, sending the neighbourhood into a still
and quietness again. His fingers twitched, curling around the pillowcase,
counting down the seconds before Dean would show up inside his room.
He listened carefully to the sound of dexterous hands climbing the sturdy maple
tree outside, heard the sound of a branch snapping, and smiled when he heard a
low grunt and muttered curses. Soon after, he heard his guest sprightly settle
on his windowsill before a heavy boot stepped down, creaking on the wood
panelled floor of Castiel’s bedroom.
When tapped his cell phone, the clock read 2:19 am. There was a dip on the
mattress, and he heard the whisper of Dean’s voice behind him. “Hey Cas.”
Cas turned over to lie on his back, looking up at Dean. “Hello Dean.”
In the dark, he could see Dean flash a smile; his teeth white like his eyes
were green. The grin, he could tell, meant he was excited about something. Dean
lay on the bed next to Cas after he kicked off his boots, pillowing his head on
his hands, crossed them behind his skull. His feet crossed at the ankles,
lolling his head to the side to grin at Castiel.
“I found an awesome diner in the outskirts of town, it has the best pie, the
burgers are awesome too. I say we ditch last period and go there for lunch. I
got some beers too, so we can go to the arcade and shoot some zombies while
we’re buzzed, what do you think?”
If there was anything Dean loved, it was shooting things and drinking. Cas had
started growing a fondness for such activities since the day he met Dean. He
had met Dean months ago just blocks from his high school. Castiel and his
brothers went to a private school, and Dean attended a public high school along
with his younger brother. Cas was from a life of privilege; Dean was not.
Really, they were never supposed to meet.
But they did.
It was a day in spring, and school had been out a full thirty minutes, and Cas
hadn’t started making his way home yet, as he usually did. He was standing
outside of the school building, watching some of his classmates cross the
street and walk the three blocks it took to get to Bobby’s Diner, a usual hang
out spot afterschool.
Never once had he gone in there. He had always wanted to go, heard from his
brothers that they had the best burgers and ice cream, but he had always been
too awkward to go in by himself. His brothers didn’t want to go with him, but
that day, Cas took his first step towards the diner, intending on trying a
burger, regardless if he ate alone. His homework could wait, after all.
Inside, the place was styled like any diner from the 1950’s, large shiny
velvet-red plastic booths, a jukebox in the back near the restrooms, black and
white photos from famous celebrities of the time, and illustrations of happy
children sipping on a glass bottled Coca-Cola through a straw. He took a seat
on a stool near the cashier, and the waitress handed him a large plastic menu,
pictures of sizzled ground meat settled in between two buns, golden brown
French fries, and a glass of perspiring Coca Cola all over the sides.
He ordered a cheeseburger and a coke, handing back the menu with a polite
smile. Cas mostly avoided looking at his classmates, and he looked ahead,
seeing his own reflection on the mirror behind the makeshift bar, and stared at
himself. He felt someone’s eyes on him, and turned his head to the right, and
saw there reflected on the glass, someone staring at him, a grin on his
handsome face. He looked over, seeing a boy his age, possibly younger, staring
right at him.
His hair was soft brown, freckles painted on his cheeks and nose, bright green
eyes, wearing a black t-shirt, worn jeans, and scuffed boots. Not from his
school. He was from the public high school four blocks down. He introduced
himself as Dean Winchester, and the younger boy with shaggy brown hair sitting
next to was introduced as Sammy. He quickly learned the younger Winchester
didn’t like the nickname Sammy, nor did he appreciate Castiel addressing him as
Samuel, so Castiel stuck to referring to him as Sam.
They talked, well, Dean mostly asked him questions, and Cas offered short,
brief replies, wondering why Dean was talking to him of all people. Their food
came out, and Sam had a salad while Dean had an apple pie, and they sat there
waiting until Cas finished his burger. Dean offered to drive him home in his
black Impala, and Cas accepted.
It wasn’t long before Dean starting climbing the tree out his window, sitting
there as he tapped on the glass and asked to be let inside. Then it became
routine for them to sneak away from their homes just to see each other. Dean
taught him how to lie convincingly, so he could get out of the house to be out
with Dean. It was Dean who taught Cas how to flip a butterfly knife and how to
pop open a beer bottle with his hands and how to smoke without coughing up a
lung.
Cas didn’t have a license, but Dean was the one who let Cas drive the Impala at
night sometimes, and they went on Willow Drive, where there were never any cars
after ten. Cas sped up to 100 miles an hour, both of them laughing, and with
the wind blowing through his hair, Cas felt alive.
He had changed. His family noticed a change in him, though they weren’t sure
what was happening. Castiel wasn’t like that, not before. Before he met Dean,
he would be in bed by ten and would do all his homework on time. He never
sneaked out, he never once lied to his father, he never had to spray cologne on
himself to cover up the smell of weed and cigarettes, never had to do any of
that.  
Castiel Novak never broke the rules, much less did anything unexpected. Castiel
always did what his father wanted, never fought with his brothers, and most
certainly didn’t fall for the town’s stud and hell raiser, Dean Winchester.
Cas should have seen it coming, should have stopped himself from having those
feelings for his best friend. Castiel never should have talked to Dean in that
diner, never should have gotten in his charcoal black Impala, and never should
have grown feelings for him. Those kinds of feelings. He had heard the lectures
in church, the teachings of old pastors, quoting lines from the bible, all of
them saying the same old thing, that it was unnatural for man to lie with
another man, that it was a shameful act. Castiel could even flip a bible open
and place his finger on the scripture in Romans, having heard it so many times.
Yet, Cas couldn’t help it. He even started to ditch Sunday school just to be
with Dean. And it wasn’t just the thrill of doing something he never did that
attracted him to Dean. It was more. He saw Dean, probably in a way that only
Sam and Bobby and a handful of other people saw him.
He saw a good man; despite all the rules and hearts he broke. Cas saw someone
who would do anything for his younger brother, cared for him with such love and
devotion that Cas rarely saw in other siblings. He saw fierce loyalty,
playfulness, and strength. He even loved Dean for all his flaws. His sense of
self-loathing, his tendency to avoid talking about his feelings, his annoying
habit of singing badly along to the same five CD’s he had in the car, and his
love for irritating Cas.
All of that –as infuriating as it was- Cas loved every single part of him. It
wasn’t enough that Cas noticed everything about him. He knew Dean loved pies,
but not sugar free ones. He would never wear less than two shirts at a time.
And, when Dean didn’t think he was looking, Cas had seen Dean pull out a small
picture of him and his mother, back when she was still alive, and he would run
his fingers over her picture, the photo faded in color and wrinkled from being
in his pocket. Dean would stare at it with a warm smile that Cas had never seen
directed at anyone, and he would fold it back and stuff it in his pocket, then
go back to teasing Sam or Cas, like nothing had happened.
Those moments when he made Dean smile, Cas felt so pleased with him, and he
always smiled in return whenever he was able to get Dean to laugh –it was never
done purposefully, but a laugh was a laugh. He hung onto the nickname Dean had
given him, and smiled when he spoke it, because Dean was the only one who ever
referred to Castiel as simply Cas.
Castiel shifted closer on the bed towards Dean, tentatively reaching out,
placing a hand flat on the surface of Dean’s stomach. Under his fingers,
through the cotton fabric of the shirt, he could feel toned abs underneath. His
body was like a furnace, so hot and tempting. Dean raised an eyebrow at the
hand that was placed on him, but it didn’t stop Cas from lifting his shirt
higher on his stomach, and Cas shivered as his fingers travelled under Dean’s
T-shirt, over his smooth stomach and firm chest.
“Groping my non-existent tits?” Dean chuckled.
Cas didn’t answer, his hands gingerly running over Dean’s chest, feeling his
nipple between his index and middle finger. Little buds, perky and warm. Cas
always wondered what his skin would feel like against Dean’s own. He sprays his
fingers out, feeling the rhythmic beat of Dean’s heart underneath. Dean’s eyes
flash worry, and he’s looking at Cas like he might have lost it. Cas thinks
Dean might be right. Cas starts to breathe hard through his nostrils, keeping
his thin lips in a firm line to keep from saying something stupid.
“Hey, Cas,” Dean said, and this time, he isn’t smiling. He looks worried.
He wanted him so badly, wanted to have Dean to himself. The problem was, of
course, Dean.
“Hey, are you dreaming or something?” Dean kept staring at him. “Look at me.”
Cas didn’t answer, Dean grabs his wrist, pulling his hand out from under his
shirt and sat upright in one move. He looked down at Cas, concern quickly
spreading on his face. “Cas, what’s wrong?”
Mouth dry all of sudden, Cas swallowed, staring at Dean’s face, hoping he would
be able to read his expression so he wouldn’t have to say anything out loud.
Dean still looked confused, so he muttered under his breath, “Me.”
“What?”
“Dean, I,” he started to speak, then stopped. Shaking his head for his loss of
words, he sat upright in bed, leaning back against the headboard. He took in a
deep breath, anxiousness tying a terrible knot in his stomach, and he’s about
to admit something to Dean that will drive him away from his life.
When he gets his thoughts together, figuring out what he’s going to say, he
looks up and sees Dean’s eyes on his bare chest, and his lips are parted just
the slightest. He notices the dark glimmer in his eyes, like his green eyes
have suddenly turned all black, and Cas doesn’t understand why. He spoke
quietly, muttering his confession under his breath.
“I, I’ve been having feelings for you, Dean.”
Dean’s eyes stayed on his chest, and Dean seems frozen in place, then he blinks
his thick lashes and his head snaps up in a delayed reaction, looking at Cas’
face. “What?”
“I have feelings for you, Dean,” he said, throat and mouth feeling even drier.
“I want you.” He took in a sharp breath, chest feeling tight under the weight
of hic confession. “I want you, the same way you long for women, it’s the same
with me, except, it’s for you. I..,” he let himself drift, his sentence
finished, letting words get unsaid.
Dean stayed silent, and he just stared at Cas, eyes a glimmering pool of green,
searching Cas’ face, and Cas thought; this is the moment when I lose the
closest friend I’ve ever had. Dean shifted on the bed, and Cas instinctively
reached out, fear controlling his body. “Don’t leave,” he whispered. “Please.”
His arm was rigid under his hand, body still, eyes fixed on Cas, but he didn’t
move off the bed and away from Cas. “I’m not going anywhere Cas,” he said. His
hands suddenly clapped around Cas’ face, his palms sweaty against his cheek,
green eyes on alarmed blue ones.
Then, Dean’s mouth is on him, clamping down in firm pressure, capturing Cas’
lips in a needy kiss. Cas couldn’t even react, he sat, stiff against his
headboard, breath caught in his chest, arms too heavy to lift and touch him
back, do anything except stay unbending by his side. Dean broke the kiss,
nuzzling his nose in Cas’ neck, and groaned against the skin there, soft huffs
of breath making Cas shiver. “I need you, Cas.”
Cas’ jaw fell, and his eyes went wide because he was having trouble processing
Dean’s words. A wet tongue lapped at his neck and throat, gentle press of teeth
nipping at his jaw line. His breath hitched, and the flesh on his arms broke
into Goosebumps. He couldn’t stop himself from shivering. One of Dean’s hands
went to his hip, palm curving on his hipbone, and the other moved to the back
of his head, his fingers on the short hairs there.
Then Dean’s lips were on him again, his lips soft and warm and wet. He slowly
parted his mouth, coaxing Cas to do the same, and Cas followed. His mouth fell
open, and Dean’s mouth led the way, angling his head and deepening the kiss.
Cas’ hands reached and gripped Dean’s arms in a clumsy hold.
Dean’s tongue licked his lips, and he at least knew to part his mouth to allow
Dean’s tongue to slide into his mouth, teasing and sp delicious. Cas can’t help
but lean forward, wanting to get more of the kiss, and Dean hums, apparently
liking that. His tongue licks at the roof at his mouth, and it felt weird. It
made Cas shiver, and he couldn’t figure out of if it was because he felt
ticklish or because it felt good. He doesn’t have much time to ponder on it,
Dean started to suck on his tongue, curling his tongue around his, and Cas
feels dizzy and lightheaded. He feels his face start to heat up, and his lower
half is starting to heat up too, something in him starting to burn with need.
They break the kiss slowly, gradually kissing leisurely, both breathing
heavily. Dean’s hand lowers to his neck, his thumb rubbing circles against his
pulse, and Cas feels elated from the kiss. ”I’ve always wanted you Cas,” Dean
said a breathless sort of way. “I’ve wanted you, wanted to have you, fuck,
every time you got in my car I wanted to reach over and just,” he panted, like
the confession was knocking the very wind from his chest.
Cas grinned, knowing exactly what that felt like. He let his head fall forward
to lightly knock their foreheads together. “What else?”
“I always wanted to fuck you. I secretly wanted to be your first, well,
everything.”
“You already are my first kiss,” he said. Cas leaned in, kissing his lips
gently, his hand cupping Dean’s face, his cheek soft and warm. “Make love to
me,” he whispered. “Right here, right now.”
“R-really?” Dean asked.
Cas fought down an arrogant grin. “I thought you were used to such requests.
Why the sudden bashfulness?”
A smirk curled on Dean’s lips, and then he was leaning in, licking Cas’ throat,
peppering little feather-light kisses on his neck, nibbling on the curve of his
ear. Cas wanted to moan sensually, wanted to make a moan that would make Dean
groan in return, but he knows he can’t, not when his father and his brothers
are sleeping just rooms away. Dean’s hand fell on his shoulder, and with a
gentle light press, pushed him back on the bed. Cas rearranged himself on the
mattress and leaned back until his back was on the soft mattress again. Dean
crawled over his body, rolling and sliding his body over him with heavy
breaths, supporting his weight on his hands and knees, mouth never once leaving
Cas’ skin to suck and kiss and bite.
His mouth lowered, licking at the hollow of Cas’ throat, then down his chest,
ghosting light presses of his mouth, dragging his full lips down his skin,
leaving tingling sensations in their wake. Cas’ toes curl, and his hands fists
in the sheets, just to have something to grip onto, and he’s grinding his teeth
down so hard Cas thinks he might wear away his teeth.
It’s when Dean takes a nipple in his mouth that a little gasp escapes him, and
his hands fly to his mouth, eyes wide with panic, and he strains his ears to
listen but no one is rushing to his door to check on him, so it’s alright.
Dean’s eyes look up at him, mouth still sucking on his nipple. He lets it go,
lapping lightly, whispering, “You have to be quiet.”
He nodded, and tried to relax, melt into the soft, warm embrace of his bed, and
just concentrate on Dean’s touches, his mouth, while trying not to make a
sound. He hadn’t even known nipple play turned him on until Dean touched him
there. Dean’s mouth was on him again, sucking lightly on small buds.
Nimble fingers pinched and tweaked his hardened nipples. His mouth remained on
his nipple, sucking and lapping, making hungry noises like he was thoroughly
enjoying himself. He tugged slightly to make Cas wince, but not enough to hurt.
Just leave him panting. Those soft lips lower again, down to Cas’ flat stomach,
and Dean’s hands languidly slid down, gently gripping his hip as he kissed
around his navel. With his mouth travelling lower and lower, sexual temptation
rose in Cas.
Heat pooled in his groin when Dean’s lips were on him, mouthing him through his
underwear, open-mouthed kisses being placed on the swell of hardness against
his underwear. He rubbed his face against his erection, breathing in the scent
of his arousal, sighing like Dean had been given something so special, the hand
on his hip trembling. Or was it Cas that was trembling?
“Dean,” he said, panting.
Dean lifted his head, pausing from nuzzling into Cas’ cock, sitting back on his
haunches, looking down at Cas with lustful eyes. His hands tugged at the
waistband of his boxers, “Get out of these,” he said, hurriedly, breath shaky.
Cas nodded, and Dean’s hands gripped the waistband of his boxers and started to
ease them lower on his hips. Cas lifted off the bed, as Dean pulled them down
his thighs, until Cas kicked them off himself, sending them to the corner of
his room. He becomes painfully aware that his lower half is completely naked,
and Dean still has clothes on, his green eyes focused on Cas’ flushed erection.
“Dean,” he begins to say, wanting him to snap him out of whatever thoughts he
was having and just touch him again.
His eyes slowly slid up his body, and when he reached Cas’ face, the smirk on
Dean’s face was sultry. “Just admiring the view sweetheart.” His head lowered
to kiss his neck. Cas arched his neck to fit Dean’s head, letting his head sink
more into his pillow. “Fuck, Cas,” he groaned in his ear.
The weight previously settled over Cas left, and Dean goes down on him. Cas’
breaths become erratic and needy when Dean’s mouth is on him, licking his
flushed, aching cock. Parting his lips, Dean swallows him whole, to the root;
drool escaping the corners of his mouth. He hits the back of his throat, and
Cas thinks that has to hurt, but Dean only hums while he sucks him, lips
tightly wrapped around his cock.
Tight knuckles gripped the sheets, Cas’ hands shaking. The noises Dean made
while he sucked him were wet and noisy, and it was really getting to Cas. Blue
eyes were transfixed on the mesmerizing way Dean’s cheeks hallowed around him.
Cas wants to buck his hips into his mouth, the hot and wet feeling of his mouth
encasing him, wants to fuck his face until he comes spilling down Dean’s
throat, but he stops himself, gritting his teeth down again.
Dean let him go, slipping his cock free with the wettest of noises. A pink
tongue darted out, licking the thick vein under his cock, breaking Cas’ body
into shivers. Dean got off the bed, the sound of his zipper being lowered
echoed in Cas’ head, the sound so enticingly loud, and he was suddenly nervous
that someone might hear. He watched as Dean kicked his jeans off his legs, then
lowered his boxers and took off his shirt so he was naked as well. The bed
dipped when Dean’s knees settled on again, and he crawled over Cas, the smile
on his lips sultry and all kinds of sin.
As soon as he got settled on top of him, Dean rolled his hips down, brushing
their erections together. Cas gasped, fingernails digging into Dean’s arms.
Dean cursed under his breath, and palm flattened on the mattress for leverage,
using that leverage to roll his hips onto him, grinding down harder. Cas’
breaths come in short, ragged pants, and his entire body sensitive and
overwhelmed. His cock was aching for release, wetness where he leaked pre-cum
on his stomach.
White teeth sunk into his lower lip, quiet whines escaping him, low and
throaty, and he fought to not make a sound beyond the low noises he was already
making. Dean was panting in his ear, could see sweat forming small beads on his
skin, travelling down his temples. His hands went to Dean’s back, sinking him
lower on his body, to feel his chest heaving against his, feeling cool sweat on
his fingertips.
His cock was hard against his, and every slide of his body sent spikes of
pleasure through Cas, made his hips twitch and rise up, trying to get enough
friction between them to make his legs quiver. It was enough. His toes curled
in and he held onto Dean tighter, letting wave after wave of pleasurable spasms
wash over him.
It was hard to care about his brothers, or even his father waking up and
finding them when Dean was grinding his hips down on Cas like that, he just
kept thinking it would be worth it if they did get caught. He pressed his
shoulders further into the mattress and lifted his hips, thrusting up into
Dean’s weight, his cock spurting a little more semen. His hips meet, their
cocks touching with enough force to make Cas’ head spin, and it feels like
there’s less oxygen in his lungs because he can’t breathe.
The movement of Dean’s hips increase in pace, coming in offbeat rhythms,
sinking Cas further into the mattress. Thick black lashes fluttered, and their
skin was sticky, and he was dripping pre-cum like crazy. He made a low whiney
noise that he couldn’t bring himself to care about. 
Though his black lashes, he could see Dean’s face, scarlet and flushed, those
pink pouty lips looking moist, glistening ever since he had his mouth on his
cock. A steady stream of quiet sounds pass through his parted lips, his hot
breath scorching on Castiel’s face. His hand reached between them, taking them
both in hand, jerking them off. His wrist slides up both their lengths in
urgent pumps, then slowed to one gentle glide along their shaft, and when he
ran his thumb over the slit of Castiel’s cock, Cas’ entire body lurched
forward, clinging to Dean with all his might.
Dean’s hand went to the back of his head, gently lifting him until his lips
touched Dean’s warm shoulder. “Bite down,” Dean whispered, voice absolutely
wrecked. Castiel did, biting down hard, sinking his teeth into that flesh, and
he heard Dean whisper, “Come.”
He lets go and he comes, pulsing in thick spurts, like he had been holding back
his entire life, his entire body breaking into violent tremors, and he squeezes
his shut, only faintly aware of the feeling of Dean hold him together. His
voice sounds far away, and he can barely hear Dean telling him it’s okay.
When Dean comes, he breaks apart, shoulders hunching before breaking into
jerks, and he lets out one choked, hushed broken groan escape him, and he
empties his load on Cas’ stomach, his hips, and on his chest, splashing enough
to make a mess.
Cas barely recovered, but he wrapped his arms around him, drawing him near,
bringing their lips together in a kiss that’s dizzying and leaves Cas
breathless. He loses track of time, not knowing how long it takes him to get
back to himself, and he doesn’t mind that the feeling lingers still as he
kisses Dean.
The kiss ends like the first one, slowly dying down until their lips are
lingering over the others. They lingered together before falling apart together
on the mattress, boneless and spent. They lay hip to hip, breathing the same
air, sharing the same bed, the room smelling of sex and of old books piled on
Cas’ shelf above his desk. With the window open, the cool breeze helped to cool
their heated and sweating bodies. Dean rolled towards him, curling on Cas’
side. Dean smiled against his neck, humming happily.
“Dean-”
“I’ll leave in the morning,” he murmured sleepily.
The steady rhythm of Dean’s breathing tickled his neck, and Dean’s hands
absentmindedly caressing his side. Cas carded his fingers through Dean’s hair,
feeling so amazing. It should be awkward, even embarrassing, lying there naked
next to Dean, his torso covered in both their semen, but it isn’t.
Instead all he feels is content. Dean nuzzles closer to him, nosing his way
along his sweaty throat and under his ear. He didn’t expect Dean to be the one
to cuddle, but somehow, it’s even better that he is. He wraps his arms around
him, and Dean makes a small groan in the back of his throat that Cas recognizes
as the sound he makes when he’s tired.
The last thing he remembered Dean saying was, “Awesome.”
Cas chuckled, thinking about how Dean used that word to describe anything from
a good slice of pie to amazing sex. He was glad he was in the awesome sex
category. With that, he went to sleep with a smile to match Dean’s.
 
 
                                      **
                                        
                                        
The night air was nice. The moon was out, a few speckled stars circled around
the round, full moon.
He sat in the car with Dean, sitting in silence. Dean had called his cell phone
and told him to come outside to join him for a ride. They stopped by a 7-11 and
bought two Arizona iced teas and a pack of Camels before Dean drove them to an
empty plaza parking lot, where they talked about school, how their day went,
and about fathers who didn’t care enough.
Dean was asking him about the classes he took and what he did with his friends.
Dean had already talked about his day, which consisted of ditching his first
period Chemistry class and then taking a girl to the janitor’s closet during
forth period.
Cas rubbed the back of his neck, feeling uneasy, and it wasn’t because it was
only his third time smoking a cigarette, and his lungs weren’t quite used to it
yet. “Uh, nothing,” he said.
“Come on, what’d you do with your friends today?”
“Nothing.”
Dean took a long drag of his cigarette, then let his hand hang loosely from the
open window of the Impala, whips of smoke slowly floating from behind the black
door. Cas could hear the way his hand thumped against the door, probably along
with the tune of some rock song Cas could never recognize, Dean’s head
absentmindedly nodding along. “You don’t have friends, do you?” Dean asked,
turning to face him.
Cas brought his hand to his lips, taking a deliberately slow drag from his
cigarette, then exhaled. “No, I don’t,” he finally admitted.
For some reason, most kids didn’t want to talk to him. He wasn’t sure if his
speech patterns cast out from the rest, it couldn’t be that he dressed oddly,
everyone in school worn the same uniform, and though he had been told that he
his tie was never straight, he doubted it was for that reason. At times he
wished he were like his brothers, who seemed to find friend making easy.
Dean smirked, and Cas thought he was going to make fun of him, just like the
other kids at his school did to him. Dean was going to be just like the rest of
them. That thought made it hard to breathe. “It’s okay,” Dean said. “I don’t
have friends either.”
Cas looked away. “Liar.”
“No, I’m serious. I don’t have any friends,” he said. “Not real ones anyways,”
he reflected with a shrug.
Castiel stayed quiet, watching the ember of the cigarette in his hand burn
closer to the filter, lips pursed as he considered Dean’s words. Come to think
of it, he thought, he always mentioned girls, never colleagues from his class.
“Cas.”
“Yes Dean?”
“Don’t worry,” His lips turned up into smile, “I’ll be your friend.”
Those words hit Cas like a punch to the face, mostly because he felt, sensed
that Dean was being honest. And while Cas wanted more than simple friendship
from Dean - wanted so much more -, he had wanted a friend for so much longer
than that. His chest swelled by Dean’s simple words, and the look on Dean’s
face seemed genuine, that endearing look being directed at him for the first
time.
Castiel smiled, and it felt true on and honest on his lips.
 
 
                                      **
                                        
                                        
                                        
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