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Dean ran upstairs and slammed the door behind him, the action so hard it caused some of his collectibles to fall from their careful placement on his shelf. For once, Dean didn’t care. His face burned blood red with embarrassment; and, the tears he so far successfully staved off were starting to fall from his reddened eyes. Of fucking course this was bound to happen, because the universe hated Dean Winchester. In all his seventeen years on the planet, he had never been able to catch a break – and still the streak continued.
Flinging himself – somewhat melodramatically, even he had to admit – onto his cramped twin bed, the teenager grabbed his pillow and pressed it over his face. Maybe he would succeed in asphyxiating himself, at least that would maybe buy him some sympathy…or at least give a nice Romeo and Juliet-ish flair to the debacle that happened at school today.
With that thought, Dean groaned deeply into his pillow and tried to will the world to open a hole and draw him into it. Or – better yet – let aliens come down and abduct him; at this point he would prefer their experiments with butt probes over going back to school and facing the fact that everyone now knew two long kept secrets: Dean Winchester was gay; and he had the world’s biggest crush on the most popular boy in school, Castiel Novak.
The whole thing never should have come to light. Dean had perfected the art of unobtrusive pining, which, according to his best friend Charlie Bradbury bordered on stalking. Until today, Charlie was the only person who knew of the green-eyed Winchester’s way-out-of-his-league crush. And in Dean’s defense, who wouldn’t have a crush on the older Novak?
At eighteen, Castiel Novak was practically a god among mere mortals. He was captain of the soccer, football, and baseball teams. At six-feet tall, he was one of the tallest boys in the senior class, although Dean, as a junior, was slightly taller than him, when Dean wasn’t slouching down trying to blend in with the lockers. Messy dark brown hair, big blue eyes that radiated warmth and mischief, and a well-toned physique just added to the over all package. However, though Dean was shallow enough to admit he was physically attracted to the older Novak, he could have overlooked all of those attributes. The fact that Castiel was just a genuinely nice guy and always had a kind word for everyone just sealed the deal for Dean. The day that Dean watched the uber-popular boy help a nerdy kid pick up his books after he had been harassed by one of the bullies, was the day that the younger Winchester waved goodbye to his heart.
Not that Dean ever dared to approach the other teen. There was an unwritten code of high school, nerds stayed with nerds and jocks tended to stay with jocks. And, even though Castiel had a unique personality that enabled him to blend in with different types of people, Dean knew better than to cross that line. So, he pined from afar and complained to his best friend, as was befitting a teenage rom-com (not that Dean ever watched those, mind you).
Even though Dean was careful not to get caught staring at Castiel, he found himself doing the girly thing by writing about the older boy in his notebook, which was bound to get him caught. He read young adult novels, he knew how this played out; he just never believed any of that could be true. But, that is how the world came crashing down for our hero.
The day started as an ordinary Friday. Charlie and Dean were sitting together in homeroom idly chatting about going to see the new Star Wars for the tenth time, and the upcoming Valentine’s Day dance, which they considered going to together as friends. Dean was only partially paying attention, as he was writing yet another love letter to his epic crush. Usually he was careful not to let his notebook be seen, but as he well knew; fate hated him.
He just had finished what he was writing when Alistair Cain, the meanest, most juvenile delinquent of their grade came up and ripped the precious pages from under Dean’s nose.
“What’re you always doing, Losechester?” Alistair jeered, thumbing through the pages, evil grin plastered on to his face, dark eyes sparkling with pure malice. “You trying to conjure up a real woman to keep you warm at night, instead of Lezzy Bradbury?”
“Give it back, Cain,” Dean sneered, trying to calm the frantic pounding of his heart. Yes, he was pissed that Alistair was insulting his friend, but he was terrified at what would happen if the bully would actually read what was written.
“Or what? Is baby Deanie going to cry? Gonna go home to Mommy,” Alistair sneered, face contorting into a menacing grimace. “Oh, that’s right…you don’t have a Mom to go home to, she was a smart one and decided to die rather than be faced with you.”
Dean knew the other boy was just throwing whatever he thought would hurt Dean most; problem was, each of his insults was finding their mark perfectly. Dean acutely felt his mother’s loss, and often blamed himself. Why did he live when she had to die? Distracted for the moment, Dean stopped fighting, which proved to be a critical error and gave Alistair enough time to focus on the notebook in his hand properly.
“Holy shit, Winchester,” Alistair exclaimed, voice dripping with derision, “I should’ve guessed it. You’re a fag! And not only a fag, but you have the lamest crush in the whole world. You want to get down with golden-boy Novak?”
Alistair’s words sent a fiery blush to Dean’s cheeks, and caused all the air to be squeezed from his lungs. Holy shit! Alistair just outed him in front of the whole school. Dazed by what had just happened, Dean stumbled backward, missed his chair, and fell straight on his ass. Charlie knelt beside him, trying to give him her support.
“This is just fuckin’ priceless,” Alistair continued, reading from the journal, while Dean prayed Ms. Teague, the homeroom teacher would show up quickly. “He has little love poems written to Novak. Like the little queer loser ever had a chance.
“Dear Castiel,” the bully read, “You don’t know me, but I know you, if ever we had a chance to meet I would like to tell you how I admire your kindness and grace. I would tell you how I think you are probably the best looking person I’ve ever seen – outside of Benedict Cumberbatch, but really who can compare with that? – and that if you can get past my awkwardness, I would love for us to catch a movie and chill.”
At this point, most of the class was snickering helplessly at Dean, although when he dared to glance up, he did see one of two pitying glances, which was even worse. Dean also thought he saw a couple of kids with their phones out recording his disgrace for all to see. Something flipped in Dean at that moment. He had heard before about people having out of body experiences, but he never thought there was any truth to it: Not until he found himself out of Charlie’s warm embrace and toe-to-toe with Alistair. Lying in bed remembering the event, Dean never remembered making the decision, but before he knew it, his hand balled into a fist, reared back, and punched the mocking teenager square in the nose. The sickening crunch under his knuckles led Dean to believe he broke the bully’s nose, and the blood subsequently pouring from said orifice confirmed it. Of course, it was at this moment that Ms. Teague walked in to the classroom. Dean was promptly escorted out of the room – despite Charlie’s pleas that Alistair had provoked the incident.
This was also how Dean found himself sitting in Principal Singer’s office, squirming under his surrogate uncle’s disapproving glare for rising to the bait. It probably was only because of his out-of-school relationship with the principal, and some outspoken words from Charlie who burst into the office like a tornado on crack, that gave Dean a three day out-of-school suspension. Three days to be at home and wallow in his own self-pity. Three days for Alistair to tell tales about him. Three days for all hell to break loose. Maybe he could drop out of school. Maybe he could just take online classes and not have to go back and suffer the indignity.
Dean sat up in his bed and angrily scrubbed his eyes with the back of his hand. He was pissed at Alistair for causing this to come to light; but, he was doubly pissed at himself. If he hadn’t been so careless. If he had done a better job of fighting back before Alistair read from his notebook. If he could just have had a more attainable crush, maybe none of this would have happened.
As Dean sat and pondered how he could go to Tibet to join a monastery so this could all blow over, he heard the doorbell ringing. Looking at the time, the freckled-Winchester realized school was already over. Charlie was probably at the door, with pints of Chubby Hubby and Dean’s homework so he could keep up, in case he couldn’t find a way to join the space program and be sent to Mars before his suspension was up.
Stomping down the stairs, Dean flung open the door expecting to see his petite, red-haired best friend; which is why he was completely flabbergasted to be confronted with the object of his affection…Castiel Novak was in his home. Had Dean died? Was his mortification so great that he expired in his sleep? Discretely, he pinched himself, and the sting from his fingernails convinced him he was very much awake, although he didn’t rule out hallucinations.
“Hello Dean,” Castiel greeted, his voice rumbly and dark, like malted milk balls. Dean imagined his voice would only get deeper as he got older.
Unable to move or reply, Dean just stood in the doorway and gaped, mouth wide enough to catch flies as his Aunt Ellen would say. As the teens stood in a bizarre frozen tableau, Dean started to notice that Castiel didn’t seem to have his normal aura of confidence about him. Although the darker haired boy never was cocky, he had a certain swagger about him that attracted attention from girls – and Deans – like moths to flame. Currently, that light was dimmed.
“May I come in?” Castiel asked somewhat uncertainly.
“Ummm, sure,” Dean responded, mentally kicking himself for not being more articulate. “Although if you are here to kick my ass, I would rather you did it here…I don’t want there to be any mess for my younger brother to clean up when he comes home.”
Castiel stared at Dean, blue eyes wide and curious, head tilted adorably to the side in obvious confusion. “Why would I want to injure you Dean?”
“Ummm, because you heard about what happened with me and Alistair,” Dean replied, again less than eloquently.
“Yes, I did hear about what that vile vermin did, but I have no wish to harm you. May I come in to talk? I promise no bodily injury,” Castiel said, voice warm like honey and dripping with sincerity. Dean melted at that tone, and stepped aside to let the other boy in.
“You want something to eat or drink?” Dean offered, trying to remember what his dad taught him about being a gentleman, while trying not to freak out too much. “I gotta start making dinner soon, but I’m making mac and cheese, from scratch, and it is pretty awesome, if I do say so myself.”
Castiel chuckled, the sound rich and pure, and soothing to Dean’s overwrought nerves.
“I’m afraid I’ll have to pass, this time,” Castiel said, true regret lacing his tone, and Dean didn’t fail to catch the this time in the sentence. “I only have a short amount of time before my parents are expecting me home, but I wanted to talk to you.”
“O-o-okay,” Dean stammered, leading Castiel in to the living room and sitting down across from his crush. His crush who obviously knew his name and was sitting with him, in his home.
“My sister is in your homeroom, I don’t know if you know her,” Castiel began, looking somewhat uneasy, and picking at invisible lint on his black skinny jeans. “Her name is Anna Milton, we have the same mother, but different fathers – long story for another time.”
Dean nodded absently. He knew who Anna was; she was a shy, but friendly, red-haired girl that sat across from him and Charlie. Also, someone who Charlie had an epic crush on, but was afraid to talk to.
“After homeroom, she sought me out and told me what happened this morning. What Alistair did and what was written in your notebook.”
Dean’s cheeks burned fire-engine red again, and he felt the air constricting in his lungs as a panic attack threatened to drag him under; but, he didn’t want to give in. He wanted to be strong and be able to face whatever Castiel would say, whether he would like it or not. Perhaps having the older teen shoot him down is exactly what Dean needed.
“I am so sorry Dean,” Castiel said, and with those words, the green-eyed Winchester felt his heart break in two. His fantasy was destroyed. Although even in rejection Castiel was kind, he came to see Dean and tell him in person; it was more than Dean could have hoped for.
“It’s all good, dude,” Dean tried to cut him off, hoping not to burst into tears and further humiliate himself. “I knew you were way outta my league when I started this, so water under the bridge, or over the dam or whatever.”
Hastily, the younger man tried to stand up to walk Castiel to the door, when a hand shot out and grabbed his wrist, the pressure gentle, but insistent.
“I don’t think you understand what I’m trying to say, Dean,” Castiel said, the nervous edge he had carried fading, and more of his confidence seeping into his voice.
Rooted to the spot and feeling sparks of pleasure from where Castiel was touching him, Dean once again was speechless – he really needed to start finding his voice around this boy.
“You aren’t the only one with a crush,” Castiel admitted, voice almost inaudible, despite the quiet room, a faint pink tinge staining his own tanned cheeks.
“I’m sorry what?” Dean squeaked, his voice overly loud after the whisper of the high school god.
Castiel looked up, his brilliant azure blue eyes locking on to Dean’s confused green. “I have a crush on you, too.”
With that, Dean yanked his wrist free, the skin feeling cold and missing the warmth provided by Castiel’s fingers. He felt his stomach roll with nausea, he was going to be sick.
“I think you need to leave, now,” Dean said, his voice flat and emotionless, posture stiff and unyielding.
“I don’t understand, from what Anna told me, this is what you wanted,” Castiel said, cocking his head to the side again in an imitation of a lost puppy. Any other time it would be cute, but now Dean saw it and wanted to scream.
“I guess I should thank you for humiliating me in my home and not at school like Alistair,” Dean said, trying not to let his anger or hurt color his tone. “However, I get the message, you don’t have to mess with me to get me to understand. I will stay away from you and you never have to worry about me and my silly little crush again.”
Castiel stood and walked until he was right in front of Dean, he reached out and cupped Dean’s face in his hands forcing the other teen to look him in the eyes.
“Did you ever ask why I knew your name? Why Anna would make sure to tell me what happened?” Castiel questioned.
“I figured you knew from gossip and that Anna told you because you said she was your sister. I would think my brother would tell me about someone’s epic fail of a crush on me; if someone had a crush on me.”
“I do.”
“You do what?”
“Have a crush on you. Have since your freshman year,” Castiel said, long, artistic fingers stroking over the freckles that were sprinkled liberally across Dean’s nose and cheeks. “I noticed you and your red-haired friend walking the halls. You were having the most animated debate about Star Wars and Star Trek, and she said something that I couldn’t hear, but it made you laugh, and you were the most gorgeous thing I had ever seen. Your whole body leaned in to her and shook with utter joy. I was gone from that moment. However, I thought for the longest time that you were straight, and that your friend was your girlfriend, so I never approached you. I figured I needed to get over my embarrassing crush and pine from afar.”
Castiel leaned in closer and Dean felt his breath stutter in his chest at what he was hearing. He didn’t know whether to believe what he was being told, or to think it was part of an elaborate hoax.
“Anna was too familiar with hearing me bemoan not having a chance with you,” Castiel said, warm breath now puffing against Dean’s ear. Who would have guessed that his ear would be such a sensitive area? The younger man was having a hard time keeping up with Castiel’s words and the sensations he was evoking. “She kept telling me to take a chance, but even though I have a reputation for being popular, I am actually rather shy by nature and I didn’t want to open myself up and risk being shot down.”
As he spoke, Castiel kept pulling Dean closer until the two teens were flush against each other in an odd embrace that was soothing, yet enervating to Dean.
“When Alistair revealed what was in your notebook, Anna could hardly contain her delight. Not at your suffering,” Castiel was quick to clarify, rubbing a soothing hand down Dean’s back, stopping just above the swell of his ass. “But to know that you felt the same and that I could take a chance. After she told me, I located your friend Charlie – who is quite protective of you, by the way – and explained the shortened version of what I just told you. Once she was convinced that my intentions were good, she gave me your address and told me to go get my man. So here I am. Please tell me that everyone didn’t have it all wrong.”
Castiel pulled back slightly, and Dean could see the hesitancy he noticed earlier had seeped back into Castiel’s tone, and his eyes darted across Dean’s face looking for whatever cues he could find.
Dean licked his lips nervously, watching as Castiel’s eyes darkened as they tracked the movement. Feeling bold, the young Winchester figured actions spoke louder than words, so he closed the small distance between them and gently kissed his crush squarely on the lips, swallowing up the other teen’s slight gasp of surprise.
Too soon, Dean pulled back and looked up at the boy he had been in love with for three years, and was met with dazed blue eyes and a hopeful smile.
“Does this mean I have to get Charlie a new date to the Valentine’s Day dance?” Dean asked with a lopsided grin.
Castiel returned the smile with a gummy one of his own, which was enough to stop Dean’s heart all over again. “I think I have the perfect candidate for her. My sister may have a little crush on her.”
Dean threw his head back and laughed at how oblivious they all had been, his face lit up with the magnitude of his joy. “Yeah, I think that might be awesome.” And he leaned in to steal on last kiss from his new boyfriend, thinking that maybe the universe didn’t hate Dean Winchester that much after all.