Chapter Text
It's been a long day of work at the hospital and Dean is absolutely shattered. He stumbles through the door into the small house that he shares with his younger brother, Sam and makes his way to the sofa, plonking himself unceremonously next to said brother, who was currenty reading Pride and Prejudice. Dean scoffs when he sees the book his brother is reading. "You're such a nerd."
Sam looks up at Dean, Bitchface #13 plastered on his face. "Says the Head of Paediatrics and Straight A student in both Middle School and High School." Sam deadpans, eyebrow raised. Dean flushes and looks down, hand rubbing the back of neck in embarrassment, knowing he walked straight into that one.
"Yeah, well, you're still a nerd." Dean mumbled into his lap. Sam just rolls his eyes and places his book down on the arm of the sofa, marking his page.
"How was work?" Sam asks, a hint of concern hiding in the neutral question. Dean knows why, of course, but it doesn't mean it doesn't irritate him sometimes. He's not a child who needs to be coddled every time something bad happens (though he does appreciate the concern, especially when he really needs it. Not that he would admit it, mind).
"It was fine." Dean answers. "Emily looks to be getting better, which is good, but only time will tell. Leukaemia is a bitch." Emily is a 4 year old girl who came into Dean's care a couple of months ago, after she was diagnosed with the early stages of Leukaemia. It's always heart breaking when its a young child that comes in. Dean had automatically taken her in and has grown quite attached to the girl. Sam nods sympathetically, having met Emily himself and knows how much she means to Dean despite not being there very long. To be fair, Dean always gets attached to the children that come into his care, even though he knows he shouldn't. Some make it, but some don't and its always heart breaking when they don't.
"That's good, Dean." Sam says, smiling a little. Then he pauses for a minute. "How are you doing, Dean? In general?"
"Me? I'm fine, why?" Dean answers, confused at the non-sequitur.
"Well, its just that... You've been pretty lonely, lately and-"
"No! We're not going there, Sam!" Dean interjects before Sam can get another word in. He knows exactly where this conversation is going, now. Sam had been bugging him for weeks about meeting someone and going on a date. Sam believes that he's "lonely" and that maybe him finding a "nice girl" will do him some good. Dean is perfectly fine and happy without anyone, thank you very much! Sure, he's 26 and he has only kissed one person in his life, but that doesn't mean that he isn't happy!
"Come on, Dean! I can see it in your eyes every time you see me and Jess together! You're lonely, I know it!" Sam says, his eyes pleading with Dean to admit it. "There's this girl, Maddison, who I think-"
"No, Sam!" Dean almost shouts, cutting his brother off, standing up from the sofa, the room swaying slightly but he ignores it for now. "I'm not doing this! I don't need you to set me up with someone! I don't need anyone. I have my friends and my family. I don't need anyone else."
"Dean, please-"
"I'm going to my room." Dean cuts Sam off again, storming up the stairs and goes into his room, slamming the door loudly behind himself. Once the door is closed, Dean leans against the door, eyes closed, taking a deep breath and releasing it slowly. Maybe Sam has a point. He is lonely. Exponentially so. There is a reason why Dean doesn't date and has never dated. One teeny, tiny, massive detail: He's Gay. Very Gay. And he's very closeted. No one knows, not even his red-headed best friend, Charlie Bradbury who is as gay as you can get, doesn't know. As far as anyone else is aware, he is straight. Dean knows the truth. And he hates himself for it.
Dean has known he was gay since he was 13 years old when he had a crush on a boy a couple of years above him, Jonah. Dean didn't realise it was crush until the boys in his class started to talk about girls. He found himself constantly thinking about Jonah and seeking him out unconsciously with his eyes. He couldn't help it, Jonah was beautiful and handsome, with chocolate coloured eyes and honey coloured-hair that seemed to shine in the sunlight. It all went wrong. He had left the school building on the way to meet Sam at his school one day that . Jonah cornered him in an alley and shoved him up against the wall.
"I've seen you watching me, Winchester." Jonah had hissed in his face. Dean remembers the pure and utter terror that ran through his veins when he realised that Jonah had noticed, had seen. "You've been staring at me, following me with those green eyes of yours." Dean had gulped, absolutely terrified. Jonah had leaned in close. "You're a fag, Winchester. A limp, wristed Fag." The word was spat like poison from his lips. Dean's eyes had flooded with tears as he realised how wrong it is to have a crush on a boy, how wrong he is. Jonah had barked a laugh, a harsh sound that had ripped Dean's fragile heart into pieces. "You gonna cry, Winchester? Cry like a little girl?" Tears had slipped down his cheeks, even as he struggled to reign them in. "Pathetic." Jonah had thrown him to the floor, which ended with Dean grazing his hand on the tarmac. Jonah had then leaned in close again, Dean turned away from him, trying to hide his tears from Jonah. "I'll keep your disgusting secret, Fag. I don't need you tarnishing my reputation like this. let this serve as a lesson to you to never look at me or talk to me, don't even think of me. Or the entire school will know what you are." An ugly sneer had crossed his face, then. "See you around, fag." With that, Jonah had walked off, leaving Dean huddled in the Alley, tears running down his cheeks and a heart shredded to pieces.
Jonah had kept his secret, just like he said he would and on Dean's part, he went out of his way to avoid Jonah at all costs. It was during that time that Dean devoted his time to studying and getting the best grades because it gave him the excuse to not talk to anybody. It was a few weeks later that Jonah was expelled for fighting in the school grounds and moved away with his family. To say that Dean breathed easier, was an understatement.
A tear slips down Dean's face as he remembers his reason for not dating. It was Jonah's reaction that had scarred him enough to never even try his hand at dating or to even come out. Not to mention, his father, John Winchester, the Chief of Surgery, is the biggest Homophobe you will ever meet, preaching to the church and to his sons what happens to gays and how it is wrong. Sam usually calls John out on his bullshit, but Dean always stays quiet in these situations, believing every horrid thing his father utters about people like him.
"Dean!" Sam calls from the other side of the door. "Dean, open up."
"Go away, Sam." Dean calls back, still leaning on the door, praying futilely that the crack in his voice is his imagination.
"Dean, please." Sam calls, voice worried. "Open the door."
Dean sighs, before he turns round and does as Sam requested. "What?" Dean snaps at his brother, who has Bitchface #2 showing on his features but isn't that effective due to the worry swimming in Sam's eyes.
"Dean, talk to me." Sam pleads. "You're lonely, I know you are, so don't bother denying it. I can see it in your face. You may be able to lie to everyone else and yourself, Dean, but you can't lie to me. I know you." Dean barely resists the urge to laugh. Sam doesn't know him, at all. "You don't want to go out with Maddison? Fine. But, Dean, you can't keep living like this. You're just going through the motions. All you do is work and when you're not working, you're sleeping or sitting in front of the TV with Charlie. Don't get me wrong, Charlie is great and all, but it's not the same. You need someone, Dean. In the way I need Jess!" Dean stays quiet. "Download Tinder. See if there is anyone you can meet in the area, around here. Please Dean." Sam practically begs him, puppy eyes coming into play.
Dean sighs, rubbing a hand down his face, knowing he's going to regret this. "Fine, whatever." Sam beams. "Only to get you to shut up about it." Dean points his finger towards Sam, who pays it no mind.
"I can help you set it up."
"No!" Dean almost shouts, taking Sam aback. "Uh, I mean, I can set it up myself." If Dean is going to do this, really do this, he wants to do it properly, being honest with who he is, even if it is online. He doesn't want Sam to find out. At least, not yet.
"Okay, that's fine." Sam beams, again. "This is great, Dean. I'm happy for you."
"I'm only doing this because you pressured me. There's no reason for you to be a girl about it." Dean says, without heat, a small reluctant smile on his face. Sam rolls his eyes, grin still in place.
"I'm proud of you."
"Hey. No chick flick moments."
"Jerk."
"Bitch." They stand there for a second, smiling before Dean breaks eye contact. "I'm gonna, uh... Yeah." And he turns around to go back into his room. Sam laughs at his embarrassment and walks away himself. "You tell Jess and you're dead." Dean calls after him, only half joking.
"Yeah, yeah." Sam calls back from the stairs.
With a shake of his head, Dean closes the door behind himself. He takes a deep breath. Is he really going to do this? Put himself out there? With his exhale, his mind was made up. Yes, yes he is. Dean gets his phone out of his trouser pocket and sits on the edge of his bed. He hesitates for a minute, before downloading Tinder.
Name: Dean Winchester
Age: 26 years old
D.O.B: 24/01/1993
Interested in: Men
He uploads a picture of himself with Baby, his beloved car, and his profile is created. Dean feels his heart racing when he reads what he has put for "interested in". He checks to see if his door is firmly shut before he breathes slightly easy. Adjusting the distance, Deans gets looking on the App. Unsurprisingly, there isn't many people on there. Trying not to be not to be disheartened, he continues swiping left on most of them, they all look like creeps, he comes across one that looks promising. Benny Lafitte the names reads, with a picture of a 28 year old male, with a short beard that suited him perfectly, a black cap on his and hazel eyes. He's very handsome, if Dean does say so. In a rare display of courage, he swipes right. His heart nearly explodes out of his chest when he sees they have matched. How is this possible? He's only been on here five minutes!
Calm down, Dean. You can do this, he says to himself, before clicking on "send message".
DW: Hey :) How are you?
Hoping he doesn't sound lame, he presses send on the message. He bites his thumbnail nervously as a speech bubble appears to be typing.
BL: Ima keep it real w u Chief. U look like a really nice person, but I accidently swiped right bc I was tryna get a pop tart crumb off my screen
Dean reads the response but it doesn't register in his brain, only feeling his heart sink into his stomach. Of course that's the reason, Dean thinks miserably. This was a horrible idea. Courage depleted, Dean responds to the message.
DW: Oh :( Its cool, man. I get it. Sorry, I wont bother u again :(
Dean goes to delete the app, it was a horrible idea, why did he have to agree to Sam? Why did he do that? Dean berates himself. Just then, he gets a notification that Benny has replied, He' very surprised by the response.
BL: Sorry chief. Didn't mean to hurt ur feelings or nothin. U seem like a really nice guy
DW: Its cool. dw bout it
BL: No its not. I realised I sounded a bit blunt. I can tell your new to this. Wanna talk?
DW: How'd you know?
BL: I get a vibe ;)
DW: What are you, psychic? :'-D
BL: You got me, chief. Now Ima tell your future ;)
Dean laughs out loud at that.
DW: Oh, wise and powerful Benny. What is my future? ;)
BL: We're gonna be good friends, chief
DW: I guess we will :)
They talk for the rest of the evening. Dean may not have used the app for what Sam had intended, but at least, it seems, he has found a friend.