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Everyone knew Dean Winchester. Absolutely everyone.
And then in a horrible turn of events, his world got turned upside down. His parents died on the same day, his father from injuries sustained in a burning building and his mother in a car wreck on the way to the hospital to see if her husband was okay.
Dean and Sam were sent to live with their pseudo-uncle, Bobby, when Dean was fourteen and Sam was eleven.
That felt like a long time ago.
Dean was now seventeen and in a new school. The only new student who’s come as a senior in over two decades. St. Christopher’s was an upscale boarding school, and somehow Bobby was able to afford both boys attendance there. Sammy excelled in everything, with no prompting. Dean was a different story.
He was better with his hands than his brain, or so he thought. He didn’t put a lot of effort into a lot of things, but what he loved he excelled at. Woodshop was where he put his heart and soul, and he had decided a long time ago that he wanted to be a carpenter. Building things with his hands, making things of value for the betterment of someone else.
What was weird at this new school, was not that it didn’t have a woodshop, because it did; it had the best shop Dean has ever laid eyes on. If he’s being perfectly honest with himself, he felt tears well up in his eyes the first time he walked in to it. No, that wasn’t it. What was weird was that no one knew that he loved shop, or that he loved math no matter what he said, or that he was a huge history nerd, or that he was brilliant at writing and put pop-culture references into everything he said.
What was weird, was that no one knew him.
It was lonely.
Until one lunch period when some weird-ass kid sat down next to him.
"Hello, Dean."
Dean looked up from his lunch which sat in front of him. He was kind of shocked, because he didn’t talk to anyone. He mostly kept his head down and did his work. Not having friends did wonders for his grades, but not for his self-esteem.
"What do you want?"
"May I sit by you?" the boy asked.
Dean shrugged. The boy sat.
"I’m not sure if you know my name, bu-"
"It’s Cas, right?" Dean certainly did know this boy. He was the one guy Dean noticed on his first day at this godforsaken school. He was the only guy Dean noticed at this school. Ever. He’ll be damned for saying it, but Dean is glad his homophobic father wasn’t alive to see that his eldest son is bisexual. Dean certainly loved his women, and feared many of them, including Bobby’s sheriff of a wife, but he had to say that this one boy, Castiel, took the cake from anyone in this entire school. Even that one really hot math teacher.
The boy nodded. ”Castiel is my full name.”
"Can I call you Cas?" Dean asked, excitement building in his stomach but not trying to let it show. He tried to be as laid-back as he could be, but to finally have this one guy he’s liked the entire four months he’s been at this school, to finally have him notice? It’s a little too much to not be excited over.
"I suppose so, yes," Cas replied.
They sat in silence as they ate.
They didn’t say goodbye as the bell rang and they parted.
But Cas did come back.
He came back day after day until it became simply routine.
Some days they talked. Others they didn’t. Some days they discussed classwork, others they discussed books. Science, religion, math even; Dean was actually excited about going to classes because they shared every class together.
They started sitting together in class. Talking, passing notes. Laughing about small things. Getting in trouble for not paying attention even though they had the best notes in the class despite it. They became best friends after only a few days, since apparently, gorgeous Castiel didn’t have friends, either. They would work together on everything, and maybe they sat a little closer than was really necessary but neither of them said anything. It was just understood.
After a month, people started whispering.
Dean noticed.
He talked to Castiel that day at lunch.
"All these people keep whispering. I hear your name in their words every now and then, but I have no idea what they’re saying," Dean let out exasperatedly as he sat down, waving his fork before stabbing it into some macaroni and cheese. He chewed for a minute and looked up at Cas.
Cas was bright red and looking down at his hands, fiddling as if to procrastinate saying something.
"Cas?"
"They think we’re dating," Castiel blurted out, loud enough for the tables near them to hear and look over.
Of course, Dean was sitting really close to Castiel, so it kind of hurt his ears, but it didn’t bother him.
His stomach was a big knot, adrenaline coursing through him. Of course, Dean thought, that’s what he’d wanted all along, 'come here and let me kiss you, damnit' running through his head.
He could usually read Castiel like an open book, but sometimes, like then, it was harder.
"What is it?" Dean asked softly.
"I just," Castiel looked away, but closed his eyes and looked back down. "I don’t know."
Dean reached over before he can stop himself and took Castiel’s hand in his. Instinctively he laced their fingers together. ”That’s okay. We can figure this out.” Before he knew it, he was kissing Cas’s knuckles and looking up at him with the most genuine smile he’d given anyone in a long time.
Cas turned to him, wide-eyed, something sparking in them.
Dean went to speak but was cut off by Castiel’s lips on his. They’re firm and a little chapped, but they’re soft and it’s electric. Better than he’d imagined, and it only got better when Cas’s hand tangled itself in the hair at the back of Dean’s neck. Cas deepened the kiss, parting his lips and teasing Dean with the tip of his tongue. Dean let Cas explore his mouth as he reached up to cup Cas’s face.
They broke apart, panting. Dean leaned his forehead against Cas’s as he breathed, “Yeah, we can figure this out.”
Castiel smiled and the room erupted into applause.