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Saturday, April 25, 2009
“I’ll be right beside you the whole time.”
A shaking hand curled around Dean’s arm, Castiel walked alongside the older boy, his eyes trained to the fake snow-covered gymnasium floor.
The “Winter Wonderland” theme (in April?), as chosen by the student body president, Lisa Braedan, made the normally smelly gym look magnificent, and no doubt went way over the school’s proposed budget.
Benefits of coming from a rich family.
The evening was already in full-swing, most of the seniors, and probably some juniors, already on the dance-floor. Petrified at the thought of having to go in and face everyone, Castiel had somehow managed to convince Dean to sit with him in the Impala a little longer.
It would be a full 45 minutes before he could work up the courage to step out of the car. Dean even got him to leave that old trenchcoat in the backseat:
“You look stunning, really – people should be able to see the hard work you put into making that outfit.”
“Really?”
“Hell yeah. And you deserve to feel like the most radiant person in that room.”
"I... think that part's... already taken."
Having had no money to rent a tux, Castiel instead wore one of the many slacks and white shirts he owned, and completed the ensemble with a vest and tie made from a set of green fabrics he purchased. Green seemed to be one of his latest obessions, he noted.
Of course, Zachariah disapproved, begging Castiel to stay at home.
His head snapped up as the two were flanked by, presumably, two of Dean’s friends. He silently thanked them, as it temporarily took him out of his dismal thoughts:
“That’s a great suit, where did you get it?”
“I made it.”
“No shit!”
“…”
“You really made that?”
“I—I like to sew.”
“It looks incredible on you, Cas.”
“Thank you.”
“Balthazar, if you’re done flirting with my date, I’d like to get to spend some time with him.”
“Possessive much?”
“Shut up, Benny.”
Dean lead Castiel over to one of the tables, and he watched him watch the rest of the students on the dance floor, nodding his head along to the upbeat music.
The boy was so bashful and Dean was two seconds from pulling him into his arms and reassuring him that everything would be okay. That he tried, and that’s all that mattered.
Dean was taken from his reverie when he felt a smaller hand grasp his. He looked up into blue eyes staring back at him, the hint of a smile gracing his face. The older boy scooted closer and wrapped an arm around Castiel’s chair while taking his hand with the other.
Yep. He was definitely buying Sammy that new laptop.
“Dean, we’re on here!”
“Oh, yeah…I noticed that.”
“I don’t understand.”
“The school votes for single candidates—the date normally gets roped into it. So, who should we vote for?”
“I don’t know, they’re more your crowd than mine…I don’t have a crowd.”
“Then let’s vote for ourselves.”
"N-no."
"Why?"
"Please don't vote for ourselves, Dean..."
Meg Masters would be smug enough to send him a text of what she had planned, and it didn’t take Sam Winchester long to figure out what was going on… what would happen …another cruel attempt to further humiliate Cas.
Dean, of course, left his cellphone at home.
Throwing on a pair of worn sneakers and one of his brother’s hoodies, Sam bolted out the door.
He had to get to the school. Fast.
“Listen, once the bucket tips, we leave.”
“I’ve got it.”
“I mean it; don’t stay to watch and see what happens. We can’t get caught.”
“Will you calm the fuck down? I said I’ve got it.”
“And if you tell anyone it was me… I’ll kill you.”
"Whatever."
"Don't test me, bitch."
“Asshole.”
“Cunt.”
"He's so fucking shy, Dean."
"I know."
"It's pretty adorable."
"Yeah."
"You think he'll dance?"
"I'm not going to force him to."
"Well, let me know if he gets bored of sitting here. Clearly, the wrong person asked him to prom."
"Seriously?"
"What? He's cute."
"Balthazar."
"Hmm?"
"Shut the fuck up."
"Don't blaspheme, Dean."
"You think Gabe spiked the punchbowl?"
Dean eventually coaxed Castiel into joining him on the dance floor. A slow song. That, he could work with. He brought the younger boy’s arms around his neck and placed his own on the other’s slim hips. Upon the strange contact, Castiel’s eyes darted up to Dean’s, unsure of whether or not this was okay.
People were watching.
What if they laughed at him? What if they tried to hurt him again? And even worse, what if they tried to hurt Dean because he was doing this?
The school-nobody wasn’t worth the possible damage to the town-hero’s reputation.
Dean pulled him closer and Castiel buried his face into the broad chest, allowing himself to smell the other boy’s cologne. Any thought of the other students, of God, of his father vanished.
He could stay like this forever.
“Counted all the ballots?”
“Yeah, but don’t forget these.”
“What are—did Meg—
“Never mind that.”
“All right.”
Dean placed two fingers beneath Castiel’s chin, tilting his face upwards. He placed a gentle kiss on the younger’s lips.
“Coach Uriel, you have to let me in there, something bad is going to—
“No ticket, no entrance, Mr. Winchester. Maybe next year.”
“Could you at least go get my brothe—
He turned pale as the announcement echoed from the gym.
“Your Prom King is…Dean Winchester!”
A deafening round of applause followed, as the elder Winchester took to the stage.
“Ladies and gentlemen, it looks like we have two kings. Your second Prom King is… Castiel Novak!”
Another round of polite applause echoed through the gym, though this time not as loud.
Castiel stood before the student body, his hand slowly going up to touch the crown, really a tiara meant for the Queen, placed on his head.
He grinned up at the older boy who reached out to take his hand and place a gentle kiss on each of his knuckles. Castiel turned back to the audience, his eyes getting wetter and his smile growing wider.
“You’ve messed with the wrong bitch, Clarence.”
Neither boy noticed the drop of blood fall from the ceiling and onto the stage.