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Castiel heard the shouting match before Mrs. Harvelle even opened the door. The social worker’s face darkened as she told them to wait on the porch. Castiel made to sit on one of the benches, but Gabriel was already sneaking inside and he’d be damned if he was going to be left out.
They followed the hallway toward the noise and Castiel resisted the urge to press closer to his older brother. He was 16 years old, dammit, but that didn’t make him want the comfort any less. He supposed he couldn’t really blame himself for being weary of conflict after what happened, but that was beside the point.
“I swear boy, of you're hiding something—”
“I ain’t hiding shit you geriatric old fuck!”
“Listen here you little maggot—”
Just as Castiel and Gabriel rounded the corner into what looked like a large living room, Mrs. Harvelle’s voice boomed out, cutting off the argument between a large balding man and a tall kid that had his back to Castiel, squarely between the man and another boy.
“ENOUGH! Dean, take Sam and head back to your room. Now. Zachariah, a word?”
Castiel watched as the balding man, Zachariah presumably, looked like he was going to keep on yelling but after shooting another glare at the boy he was yelling at, followed the social worker into another room. Dean, if Castiel guessed correctly, turned to grab Sam’s shoulder and push him toward the hall. He glanced at the new arrivals to the Sacred Heart Home for Boys and tripped a little before stomping up the stairs and slamming the door so hard Castiel could feel the floor vibrate.
Gabriel turned to Castiel with a grin. “Looks like we’ll fit right in, baby bro.”
After a few minutes of standing awkwardly in the empty living room waiting for their social worker to return, Gabriel got bored and wandered off.
“Exploring!” Gabriel corrected when Castiel accused him of being nosy.
With nothing better to do, Castiel followed Gabriel’s lead and took a look around. Gabriel let out an excited squeal when he found the kitchen, and Castiel shook his head as he started up the stairs.
Most of the doors were closed, and Castiel could see plaques on them. Upon closer inspection, he saw a set of names on each door. Benny and Garth, Crowley and Ash, and Adam and Andy were on one side of the hall. On the other side there was Sam and Dean, and on the last door, Gabriel and Castiel.
Castiel swallowed around the lump in his throat as he traced his name on the placard. He took a deep breath. On the other side of the door was what would presumably be his room for the next year and a half—he had no delusions of being adopted and he hoped beyond hope that they didn’t place him with a foster family.
He allowed himself to indulge in his homesickness for a moment, aching for his own room, with its carpeted floors and his window seat and the bookcase that spanned an entire wall that he had steadily added to over the years, all gone. He felt the prickling feeling of tears in the corners of his eyes but he blinked them back. He’d cried enough over what happened, what was still happening. It was time to be brave. He shook his head and turned the knob.
The room was nice enough. Definitely made up for two people with two twin beds, two small dressers, a desk in front of the window and another door to what Castiel could only assume was a closet. It was essentially bare. Sterile. All whites and beiges lacking any and all personality, giving no hint that anyone had lived there before. He thought of his old room again, wondering if whoever moved in would be able to see how much he cherished that space, the only refuge he had in the constant storm that was his life.
He was sinking under another wave of heartache when he heard them.
“Pot, Sammy? Really?” Dean’s unmistakable voice drifted through the wall, and for all Castiel teased Gabe for being nosy, he crept closer, straining to hear the conversation.
“I know, I know! It was really dumb, Dean, I get it.”
“Oh you get it? Well then do you wanna tell me why you were carrying it around with you?”
“I dunno… there’s this girl, Ruby. She offered it to me and she’s really pretty and popular and I just didn’t want her to think I was a loser or anything. I was gonna get rid of it before we came back here but I sorta forgot. I won’t do it again. I swear.”
“Damn straight you're not gonna do it again. You don’t want to know what they do to problem kids in the system, Sammy. Trust me, we only have room for one fuckup in the family and I’ve already filled it. Now gimme that and go hang out with Andy and Ash.”
Castiel heard the door open and shut, and then the scrape and squeal of what sounded like a window opening. Curiosity piqued, he moved to his own window only to jump back, startled, when Dean’s face popped up on the other side of the glass.
He pointed to the latch and Castiel hurried to unlock it, wrenching the window open. From this distance he could see that the other boy was kneeling on the roof of the porch that ran across the back of the house. Castiel knew Dean was attractive from the glimpse he got in the common room, but up close Dean was… Dean was beautiful. Castiel’s palms started to sweat.
“Coming out?” Dean smirked, slinking out of sight.
Castiel took a deep breath and spared a glance at the door. Mrs. Harvelle couldn’t possibly take too much longer and Gabriel would come looking for him soon, but curiosity got the better of him. He slid through the open window and crouched on the roof, plopping down less than gracefully next to the other boy.
“So which one are you?” Dean asked. The boy sat cross-legged with the bag of weed and a pack of rolling papers in his lap.
“Sorry?”
“Your name, genius. Cas-whatever or Gabriel?” Dean began breaking up the weed with his fingers; something Castiel had seen Gabriel do a time or ten in their old treehouse.
“Oh, right. I’m Castiel.” Castiel hoped the other boy wasn’t going to ask him why he and his brother were there. He didn’t want to talk about it, especially with a stranger. A weirdly friendly stranger, but a stranger nonetheless. He realized he was clenching his fists and forced himself to relax. If Dean noticed, he didn’t comment.
“Nice ta meetcha, Cas. Name’s Dean by the way.” The other boy started to roll a joint and then stopped, glancing up at Castiel through thick lashes. “You're not a nark, right?”
“N-no… I mean, I’ve never smoked before, but my brother always used to.”
Dean narrowed his eyes for a moment before grinning in an almost predatory way. “You gonna smoke with me Cas?”
Castiel could only nod, mesmerized by the slow drag of Dean’s tongue along the rolling paper. Stop it!
Dean lit the joint with a silver zippo and Castiel studied the grey-blue smoke as it floated heavy in the air between Dean’s parted lips. He realized he was staring and turned his head quickly, willing himself not to blush. That was the last thing he needed, a stupid crush on another boy in the system.
He felt a nudge on his shoulder and nearly jumped out of his skin, paranoid that he might’ve said his thoughts out loud, but it was only Dean trying to pass him the smoldering joint. He brought the end to his mouth and breathed in, choking on the smoke almost instantly.
Dean smirked and thumped him on the back. “You really never smoked before, have you?” Castiel shook his head, throat and eyes burning. “You can’t just suck the smoke right into your lungs. You gotta pull it into your mouth first, then breathe in. Watch me again.”
Castiel sat up and wiped the tears from his eyes and watched as Dean brought the joint to his lips again. He took a drag and Castiel tried not to notice the way Dean’s cheeks hollowed almost obscenely. The end glowed cherry red before he pulled it away, tapping the ash onto the rooftop next to them. Dean parted his lips to show the smoke still in his mouth before pulling in a breath, sucking the smoke into his lungs.
Castiel watched the whole thing, fascinated and more than a little turned on. He felt strange, almost floaty. He must’ve breathed in more smoke on that first hit than he thought. He tried again, imitating Dean’s technique. He would have pulled it off too, but just as he was inhaling Dean’s eyes dropped to his mouth and he licked his lips, sending Cas into another coughing fit.
“Jeeze, you really suck at this.” Dean winked as Castiel scowled at him. He must know what he was doing, Castiel was sure of it. “Alright, alright. No need to get pissy. Here, scoot closer and I’ll give you a shotty.”
Castiel had no clue what a ‘shotty’ was, and it must have showed because Dean barked a laugh. “Guess that answers that question.”
“What question?”
“I thought you might be faking it to get me to… nevermind. C’mere.” Before he could move on his own, he reached over to forcefully maneuver Castiel until he was seated almost in Dean’s lap, facing him.
“’Shotty’ is short for ‘shotgun.’ I’m gonna stick the lit end in my mouth and blow. You just breathe in the smoke. Easier on the lungs but you're gonna have to lean in real close, ‘kay?” Another wink, and Castiel was sure his face was on fire but he felt a little better when he realized that Dean seemed to be blushing too.
Dean braced a hand on Castiel’s thigh as he leaned forward and Cas mirrored the action. He was so close he could see the dusting of freckles across Dean’s cheeks.
Dean took the joint between his teeth before closing his lips around it and leaned even closer. He started to blow a steady stream of grey and Castiel inhaled, eyes flickering up to meet Dean’s. Suddenly Dean darted back and yelped, pulling the joint out of his mouth. Startled, Castiel started coughing yet again.
“Are you alright?” Castiel asked between fighting his contracting lungs.
“Burned my fucking tongue!” Dean griped. Castiel thought it was a fairly understandable outcome from having a smoldering tube of paper and dried plants in your mouth, but he refrained from pointing it out. Dean must’ve read the amusement on his face anyway, because it earned him a light punch to the shoulder. “Shaddup. ‘S never happened before.”
Dean took another drag and held it a moment before blowing the smoke over Castiel’s head. Castiel, for his part, had no idea how to proceed, but he found he actually didn’t mind. He felt lighter than he had in ages, and he wasn’t sure if it was the pot or Dean that had him feeling that way.
“Alright, Cas. I have one more idea before I chalk it up as a total loss and recommend we give up on your pothead career for good. This is a different kind of shotgun. I’m gonna take a hit and then blow the smoke at you. You just breathe in. Got it?” Castiel smiled and nodded.
Dean grinned and threw his legs over Castiel’s, scooting even closer. He turned his head to take a drag and then leaned in, cupping Castiel’s jaw with his free hand. Castiel opened his mouth and felt the barest hint of Dean’s top lip against his own as the other boy essentially breathed the smoke into him. He inhaled as much as he could and held it for a moment before letting it out, watching wispy grey-blue curl in the air.
“How’d I do that time?” He grinned, turning back to Dean. The other boy was still inches away, so close that he was almost blurry. Castiel realized the hand that he’d used to cradle Cas’s jaw had moved to his neck because Dean was pulling him in.
“Great, Cas. You did great.” Dean panted. He paused at the same distance as his last attempt to get Castiel high, giving him a way out if he wanted, but Cas leaned in the rest of the way.
The kiss was barely more than that first accidental touch of their mouths, just a soft press, a slow drag of dry lips. It was nice, but Castiel wanted more. He grabbed Dean around the waist and hauled him closer and Dean smirked. Castiel could feel it against his lips. He opened his mouth, possibly to complain, but Dean used the opportunity to slide his tongue in next to Castiel’s, and all rational thought devolved quite rapidly after that.
Less than a full minute of lazy face-sucking went by before they heard someone at the window. Castiel fully expected Dean to pull away, or at least try to hide the pot, but he just growled ‘Fuck off’ into the skin of Castiel’s neck, pulling him closer.
“Well what do we have here?”
Gabriel’s voice hit Castiel like a bucket of ice water. He wrenched himself away from Dean and turned to see his brother smirking at them from the window.
“I leave you alone for ten minutes and you’re already doing drugs and mackin’ on the Artful Dodger.”
“Gabriel, it isn’t—”
“No worries baby bro! I always knew you Lucifer was lying when he said they found you in a dumpster. Definitely one of us.” Castiel blushed furiously, sneaking furtive glances at Dean. He looked a bit confused but grinned when he caught Castiel staring.
“Hey you, Corruptor of the Innocent, if you're gonna deflower my baby brother the least you can do is puff-puff-pass.”
“Gabe!” Castiel groaned, covering his face. He felt Dean lean around him, presumably to pass Gabriel the joint, and then there was tugging on his wrists.
“No worries, Cas. Now I got both hands free.” He accentuated the statement by slipping his hands underneath Castiel’s shirt and Cas promptly forgot his embarrassment.
“Hey!” Gabriel choked, outraged, “Not in front of me!”
Dean chuckled against his neck and the sound rolled over him, sending shivers up his spine. “C’mon Cas, lets take this party to my room.”
“Use protect—,” Gabriel’s voice was cut off by Dean slamming the window closed.
“Now where were we?” Dean smirked, backing Castiel up to one of the beds.
“Before we were so rudely interrupted?” Castiel used confidence he didn’t know he had to pull Dean down on top of him, dragging him into another kiss.
Dean’s wandering hands were back under his shirt and he was palming the other boy’s rolling hips when the door flew open with a loud bang.
“Hey Dean did you meet—EW, DEAN! NOT ON MY BED!”
“Son of a bitch.”