If We Only Gave It A Chance

by shannonlynchlover

Summary:

Dean and Michael are roommates, friends, coworkers, and enemies, but deep down they've always longed to be more. Dean is scared of what their relationship would mean---but will Michael be able to convince him it's all worth it?

Notes:

Hey guys! This is my first ever piece, I hope you guys like it, I'm not the best writer and have only just started exploring writing. I hope this isn't too out of character for them, but I always wanted to see Michael and Dean get together. Hope you guys enjoy!

Chapter 1

It was a regular day in the FBI, with teenagers working on their cold cases for them.

Yes, that is correct. The FBI had actual teenagers working behind the scenes.

One may assume that these were diligent, hard-wired teenagers who had complete work ethics with no room for anything else.

One would be wrong.

The Naturals, as these teenagers were called, were currently sitting in their living room, eating pizza and playing a game of truth or dare.

Cassie Hobbes and Michael Townsend were sitting side by side on the couch, sharing the last slice of pizza. Dean Redding was in the chair across from them, Lia Zhang perched on the armrest. And Sloane Tavish was sitting cross legged on the floor, tapping her foot against the floor in a strange pattern of beats.

“Michael.” Lia’s attention honed in on the boy shoveling the crust of the pizza in his mouth, an entirely unappealing sight. “Do you currently like someone in this house?”

Her eyes flickered with mischief as she watched him for a response. She was a human lie detector, and all of the kids knew that playing this game with her was utterly dangerous - there was no room for secrets.

Michael shifted uncomfortably in his seat, a strange look coming over his face. “Yes.”

Lia clapped her hands together in glee. Dean inhaled sharply as he watched Michael and Sloane exchange a knowing look, before he looked away quickly.

“And would that person happen to be Cassie?” Lia asked, clearly amused.

Michael frowned. “You know I love a good secret, Lia, but that’s two questions.”

Lia rolled her eyes. “Come on, Michael. Pretty please?”

For once, Michael seemed uncomfortable. His eyes darted to Dean’s before he mumbled a quiet “yes”, slinking further into his seat. Cassie’s cheeks flushed pink and Lia grinned widely, although Sloane stood there with a confused expression on her face.

“Interesting,” Lia murmured.

Dean stood up, pressing his hands together. “Well, it’s been fun, but I’m going to bed.”

Michael beamed. “Wow, Redding, you admit you had fun with us? I’m touched.”

Dean pressed his fingers to his temple in frustration. “An over-exaggeration. My mistake.”

Cassie laughed softly from the other side of the room, and Dean turned away, eager to get back to sleep and away from everyone.

As he headed back out of his room and to the bathroom, though, he heard the sound of padded footsteps echoing through the hall. He paused, waiting to see who was there.

The footsteps came to a halt, Lia’s voice strangely quiet in the silence. “Michael,” she whispered.

There was a pause, probably filled by a nod on his end.

“You lied, earlier.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dean frowned, confused. He wasn’t one to eavesdrop, but he couldn’t exactly get himself out of this situation now. Plus, a niggling feeling deep down couldn’t help but be curious as to what they were discussing.

“About Cassie.”

There was a beat of silence, followed by a sigh.

“I know you don’t like her. The lie was clear on your face. You like someone, though, and I know it’s not Sloane either.”

Another painfully long silence.

While Dean tried not to involve himself in the relationship statuses of his fellow peers, even an idiot could tell that Lia and Michael had been messing around for as long as any of them could remember. Since before last winter, a small voice in the back of Dean’s head whispered, reminding him of the terrible decision he had made a year prior.

Messing around was all they did, though, and they had vowed to each other not to catch feelings. Dean realized then that the only girl who hadn’t been crossed off the list as someone Michael could have had feelings for was Lia.

Finally, Michael responded. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

The footsteps began again and Dean jumped in place, startled. As if on cue, Michael turned the corner, his face flushing in surprise once he saw Dean. He quickly recovered.

“Redding. Where are you going at this hour?” There was a hint of a smirk on his face.

“Just to the bathroom to wash up,” Dean stammered, caught off guard for once. A flash of concern passed over Michael’s face, but it was gone as quickly as it had arrived.

“Alright, well, don’t be back too late. A boy’s got to get his beauty sleep,” Michael grinned, thumping himself on the chest.

The two boys had been roommates for as long as they could remember, a situation they both opposed to. Their room was practically divided in half, with their beds pushed as far apart as possible.

Dean nodded slowly once, remembering a moment too late to walk away. He washed up quickly, not wanting to overhear any more conversations he couldn’t - rather, didn’t want to - make sense of.

When Dean returned to the boys’ shared room, Michael was already in bed, his face buried in his pillows as he snored lightly. Dean rolled his eyes, settling into his bed on the other side of the room and falling asleep quickly.

When Dean woke up with a start, he knew it was far too early to be morning. The room was still cloaked in darkness, his body still shivering in the nighttime air.

“Are you okay?” A voice cut through his thoughts, causing him to jump upwards.

Michael was staring at him from his end of the room, a look of concern on his face. It subsided quickly, his features melting back into their neutral expression.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” Dean asked, still slightly out of breath.

Michael shrugged. “You looked as if you were having a nightmare.”

Dean turned his head away, trying to conceal his face from Michael’s, the FBI’s own emotion reader. To be honest, Michael had been right on the money. Dean had been having a nightmare; one about his serial killer dad.

“I’m fine,” he muttered, although it didn’t take Lia to know that he was lying.

Without speaking, Michael stood up, crossing over to the other side of the room. Dean’s face contorted in confusion as Michael bent over to pick up his guitar, and then sat down at his desk chair.

“I’ve been working on something recently,” Michael admitted, oddly more vulnerable than he usually was with Dean.

Dean watched in silence as Michael tuned his guitar, an odd faraway look on his face. Once Michael had finished, he looked up towards where Dean was sitting, a nervous air settling around him.

“Can I play it for you?” he asked shyly.

Dean frowned, confused, but nodded nevertheless.

Michael turned back to his guitar, beginning to strum chords melodically. He hummed along to the tune, his voice soft and calming in the air. Dean felt his breathing slow, and yet his heart seemed to be beating faster than usual. He pegged it down to the aftermath of his nightmare.

Finally, Michael finished playing, letting the guitar slip out of his grasp and to the floor.

“Um, anyways…” Michael trailed off, his cheeks flushed in embarrassment. He ran a hand through his hair, avoiding Dean’s gaze.

Dean felt his cheeks burning too. “That was really good. Uh, thank you. For playing that for me.”

Michael shrugged. “It’s still nothing, really.”

The two sat there in the silence, the only sound the ticking of the clock on the wall. Finally, Michael cleared his throat.

“It’s late. We’ll need sleep before tomorrow, hm? Back to the work grind as always.” He chuckled softly to himself, making his way back to bed.

Dean nodded absently, lying back against his pillow, his thoughts scrambled in his head. For a while, they both laid there, staring at the ceiling.

“Goodnight Michael,” Dean finally murmured.

Michael’s eyes widened in surprise and he rolled over to stare at Dean, but Dean’s back was already to him.

Chapter 2

Dean and Michael were sitting in their room, each on their own sides. Dean was flipping through their recent case files, Michael on his phone.

“Could you turn that down?” Dean asked, rubbing his forehead in frustration. All he had been able to focus on in the past fifteen minutes was the loud sound of Michael’s tiktok for you page.

Michael rolled his eyes. “You’re too much of a workaholic. Let loose for once and let yourself relax.”

Dean glowered at his roommate. “Funny coming from you. I’ve never met a bigger slacker.”

“That’s not saying much, seeing as you know approximately three teenagers other than me.”

Dean’s glare deepened. “I know more people our age than those in the Naturals program.”

“Really? Name one.”

Dean sat there thinking for a moment and felt incredibly frustrated when no names came to mind. Michael laughed and laid back onto his pillow before inhaling sharply once.

“What?” Dean looked up once more from his book, finally deciding to just close it and set it aside.

Michael didn’t respond, only staring intently at his phone, his breathing accelerated.

Dean stood up and tentatively made his way over to Michael, who had dropped his phone onto the bed and was struggling to breathe.

“What’s wrong?” He repeated, his brows furrowed together in concern. Michael gestured wildly to his phone, his hands flailing around.

Slowly, as if he was scared he was being tested, Dean picked up Michael’s phone, glancing at the screen. It was an email from Agent Briggs, telling Michael about the winter break relocations. Dean immediately realized the cause for Michael’s worry when he saw that Michael was meant to go home over the break. Home to his father.

Usually Michael liked to seem strong when it came to his father, but in that moment, his guard was completely down.

Dean sat down on the edge of Michael’s bed, completely unsure as to what to do. When he saw Michael’s teeth clench together and his eyes pool with tears, he did the only thing he knew to do - he took Michael into his arms.

Michael froze for a moment before melting into Dean’s touch, wrapping his arms around him in an embrace so tight it almost hurt. His shoulders racked with silent sobs as he buried his face into Dean’s soft blue sweater—a gift from Michael the year prior.

“I’m sorry,” Michael managed to say through strangled gasps for air. Dean shook his head, running his hand softly up and down Michael’s back in a soothing manner. He kicked off his shoes before pivoting them so that they could lay down.

Dean shimmied under the covers, bringing Michael under with him. He held Michael to his body, his breaths coming out in muffled puffs of air as he let out hiccuping sobs. Dean ran his hand along Michael’s back, trying to comfort him and provide some sense of stability.

Gradually, Michael’s breathing began to slow, until their breaths had shifted into sync. They lay there silently, neither of them wanting to let go. Dean didn’t want to admit it to himself, but laying there with Michael, it felt like a weight had been lifted off of his shoulders. It felt like he was finally home.

“I don’t want to keep pretending like nothing happened last snowfall,” Michael whispered, burrowing in closer to Dean, his warmth radiating throughout the bed. Dean’s eyes shot open, startled at Michael’s statement.

“Just go to sleep,” Dean murmured, his lips brushing against the soft strands of Michael’s chocolate brown hair. If he leaned only an inch further, he’d be kissing Michael’s forehead. Instead, he refrained, keeping that inch between them.

“Okay,” Michael whispered in response, his eyes fluttering closed as his breathing slowed. Dean let himself drift off too, and they fell asleep like that, boy holding boy.

Notes:

Hopefully you guys liked this chapter---sorry it was so short! Don't worry, the flashback to which Michael is referencing will be posted soon ;)

Chapter 3

Summary:

The 'last snowfall' Michael mentioned in the last chapter and the start of anything that ever happened between them.

“Hey, Redding.” Michael’s voice appeared from behind, causing Dean to turn around slowly.

Dean flinched, a chink in his emotional armor revealed. “Please don’t call me that.”

A look of confusion and then understanding spread over Michael’s face. Redding was also Dean’s father’s last name, a well known serial killer who had stamped the letter R into his victims’ bodies. Obviously Dean wouldn’t want to be associated with him.

“Sorry,” Michael apologized meaningfully, for once in his life.

Dean shrugged, trying to seem nonchalant about the whole matter.

“You look cute in your winter clothes, Dean,” Michael grinned, leaning forwards to pull the front of Dean’s hat down.

It was true. Dean was looking unusually young in his winter coat and mittens, his black beanie pulled over his spiky blond hair, dusted with snow. His nose and cheeks were pink from the cold and whipping wind around them.

Dean’s nose scrunched up in a disgusted manner, but for once he didn’t retort.

“It’s nice to have everyone here for once and not be working,” Dean admitted. “We were lucky to get some snow before everyone left.”

Michael nodded, looking over at their friends who were out enjoying the weather. Lia and Cassie were sledding down the icy slopes while Sloane seemed to be calculating something about snowflakes off in the distance.

Dean leaned further back on the porch railing and Michael took a step towards him.

“I’m going to miss you when you’re gone,” Michael grinned at Dean, winking at him. “I’ll miss bantering with you and hearing you sleep talk from across the room.”

Dean scoffed, although he could feel a strange fluttering in his heart. “I do not sleep talk.”

Michael’s smile deepened. “Oh, yes you do. It’s all, Michael, how I love you, and Michael, how I wish you were here sleeping with me.”

 

Dean’s cheeks burned. “I have never once in my life uttered those words, and I intend never to.”

Michael laughed. “I’m just messing with you. Not about the sleep talking, though. And I intend to succeed in making you say those things.”

Dean rolled his eyes and a comfortable silence fell between the two as they stared at one another. Michael took another step closer, their faces only inches apart.

Both of their hearts were hammering against their chests, especially as Michael leaned even closer. Before he could think to do better, Dean closed the gap between them, pressing his lips to Michael’s.

Michael froze for a moment, before taking Dean’s face in his hands and gently pulling him closer. Dean’s arms moved to wrap around Michael’s waist, his hands slipping under Michael’s long sleeve. He shivered but leaned further into the touch.

The kiss was soft, slow, and gently hesitant. Neither of them knew where it had come from, but then again, neither of them wanted to pull away.

Dean made a low sound in the back of his throat as Michael pulled away from his lips and moved to kiss along the curve of his neck, his hands moving to the rails behind Dean, pinning him in place.

Anxiously, Dean tugged Michael’s face back up to his with one hand, their lips colliding once more. It was as if they both melted into the kiss, a kiss they needed like they needed air.

Michael nudged Dean’s lips open with a flick of his tongue, tasting him and feeling him for the first time. Bit by bit, Dean ventured out and traced his tongue against Michael’s–once, twice, until the two were kissing more passionately, their hearts thumping erratically.

A sharp intake of breath interrupted them. They sprang away from one another, breathing deeply. When they turned, they saw Cassie standing there, looking shocked.

“Sorry, I was just, um, going to get us some hot chocolate,” she stammered, wringing her hands together anxiously.

Dean closed his eyes, pressing his palm to his temple as was his nervous habit. “Cassie, this isn’t… we weren’t… just, this isn’t what it looks like, okay?”

Dean heard another sharp breath from his side, but chose to ignore it.

She nodded quickly. “Yep, sure, don’t worry, I won’t mention anything to the others. I was never even here.”

She backed away quickly, smiling one last time before running inside. The two boys released a breath of air.

Michael turned back to Dean, smiling softly. “As fun as getting caught was, would you like to come inside with me? I’m getting a little cold and could use someone to help warm me up.”

Dean stiffened. “I, uh, I actually think I’m going to head out to the slopes. I’ll catch you later.”

Michael frowned, but before he could respond, Dean was already bolting away from him.

 

A few hours later, Dean found himself wandering into the kitchen alone, looking for something to eat. He stood there in silence for a moment, taking a deep breath and trying not to think about what had happened.

As if on cue, a pair of arms came and circled his waist. Dean lurched away, startled by the sudden contact.

“Hey there, it’s only me,” Michael chuckled, his voice soft and gentle, yet still Dean flinched away. Michael’s smile faded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. I just need to get some sleep. I’m tired, and I need to be well rested so that I can get back to work in the morning. I’ve spent too much time pushing my priorities aside.”

“Oh, don’t be such a workaholic,” Michael teased. “Will you at least come upstairs and watch a movie with me? You can fall asleep in my arms if you’re really that tired,” he winked.

Dean tensed. “I don’t know if that’s such a good idea.”

Michael frowned, reaching forwards to cup the bottom of Dean’s face. Dean forced back the shiver threatening to run through his body and stepped away from the contact, Michael’s arm falling limply back to his side as confusion engulfed his face.

“Townsend, I don’t know what you think happened between us, but it was clearly a mistake. On both ends. I’m sure we can just get past it and move on, right?”

Michael’s entire body tensed as he stepped back. “Right. Of course. My mistake, Redding.” Dean cringed but didn’t respond.

“Well, glad we came to an understanding.” Dean forced the words out. They felt foreign and wrong on his tongue, because neither of them did particularly understand. But Dean knew deep in his heart that starting something between them would be wrong and something none of them could afford.

“Me too,” Michael gritted out, swiveling in the other direction and walking away. “Always a pleasure, Redding.”

Notes:

Hope you guys enjoyed, more chapters to come soon.

Chapter 4

Summary:

this is set the morning after chapter 2

Dean woke up first the next morning. They had forgotten to close the window shades, so the sunlight was filtered in through trickles of warm yellow. Michael’s bed was slightly more worn in than Dean’s, and for once Dean woke with relaxed muscles and a clear mind.

That clear mind was quickly forgotten when his eyes flicked downwards to the boy using his chest as a pillow.

Michael lay there, still sleeping, brown hair pillowed around him, as he snored lightly into Dean’s sweater. His arms were wrapped around Dean’s waist, their legs intertwined.

“Townsend,” Dean said, the word cutting through the silence of the room. When Michael didn’t so much as stir, he repeated himself, slightly harsher. “Townsend.”

“Morning,” Michael murmured, burying his face deeper into Dean’s sweater and effectively nuzzling his chest.

Dean let out a long sigh and got to work on releasing himself from Michael’s grasp, which took to be a much harder task than he expected.

“Will you just—let go—of me—!” Dean hissed, prying Michael’s arms off from around his waist. “You’re like a baby koala.”

“Did you just call me baby?” Michael mumbled, still making no effort to move.

Dean felt the rush of heat to his cheeks. “No I did not—just, get up, will you? I have things to do.”

With a final groan, Michael rolled off of Dean, flopping down onto his back, eyes still firmly shut. “It’s too early for this, Dean. Just go back to sleep for a bit…”

“Townsend, we have work to do. It’s late already. I forgot to set my alarms last night, and now everyone is going to be wondering where we are.”

“Let them wonder. Relax, for once, and come back to bed.”

Dean’s teeth gritted together. “Well, I’m going. You can stay here, if you want. It’s not like I care.”

Michael raised a brow. “You don’t?”

“No. I don’t.” Dean swiveled and walked out of the room, pulling off his sweater on the way and throwing it down onto his bed. His tongue felt heavy in his mouth, and he was sure that if Lia was there, she would’ve called him on his bluff, but she wasn’t there.

***

In the living room, the rest of the Naturals were already awake and working. There was no active case that they were privy to at the moment, so it was just cold cases for the meantime, something even Dean found to be a bore.

“You’re up late,” Lia remarked as Dean settled on his preferred armchair and opened up his binder of files.

Sloane looked up, eyes looking suspiciously wide. “That’s true. Dean, you have three alarms set every morning. One at six a.m., one at six fifteen, and one at six thirty. I am 100% sure this is the first time you have ever woken up after those alarms.” She cocked her head to the side. “In fact, this morning, your alarms didn’t even go off.”

“How do you even know all that?” Dean mumbled, wiping a hand over his face.

She smiled. “I can hear your alarms. I get up even earlier than you do. Did you know the first alarm clock was made in 1787, by Levi Hutchins? Although, it only went off at 4 a.m. My alarm clock is set for 4 a.m. too, to pay him a tribute!”

“Who let Sloane have coffee?” Dean asked, beady eyes settling first on Lia, then on Cassie.

Cassie shrugged. “You’re the one who usually wakes up early enough to stop her.”

Sloane smiled. “There is a 100% chance I made you some coffee too, Dean, if you want it. You only drink coffee about 48% of the time in the morning, but I figured you might want some after sleeping in.”

“Thanks, Sloane.”

“I would say no problem, but the coffee machine broke down while I was making it, and it took a bit to fix it. So, only a minor problem.”

Once Dean had retrieved his coffee and promptly then gone to secretly throw it down the drain (Sloane’s coffee making skills were atrocious), Michael had arrived. His hair was damp from showering and clung to his forehead, looking almost black.

“Goodmorning,” Michael sang out, dropping onto the couch beside Cassie. “How is everyone on this fine Thursday?”

“Buzzed,” Sloane grinned, and Michael groaned.

“Really? You guys let her have coffee?”

“Dean’s fault,” Lia quickly called out, jutting a thumb in the direction of the armchair.

“Yeah, seriously, how could you forget your alarms, Dean?” Cassie asked. “It’s one thing to sleep through them, but to forget them entirely?”

“My phone glitched,” Dean grumbled, slinking further into his chair and avoiding eye contact with Michael, whom he knew was staring straight at him.

Just then, a sly grin came over Lia’s face. “Dean, aren’t those the same pants you were wearing yesterday? I’ve never known you to rewear the same outfit two days in a row.”

Dean’s face lit on fire. “I fell asleep in them and didn’t have time to change this morning.”

Lia cocked a brow, looking extremely pleased with herself. “Oh, yeah? Too busy, huh? Busy with a girl?”

All eyes were on Dean. “No, not with a girl.”

Lia’s smile fell a little because she hadn’t been able to catch him in a lie. “Then with what?”

“I was just distracted, okay? Can everyone leave my personal life alone and get back to work? We have things to do before the holidays come up,” Dean snapped, regretting every single moment of the previous night. Even though nothing had happened, it had felt like something had.

Everyone’s eyes quickly turned away, and a slightly awkward silence fell over the usually upbeat room. Lia rose from her chair to come and perch on Dean’s armrest, leaning forward to whisper, “Whatever is going on with you, sort it out. You give us some sense of normality, Dean, and when you’re off, we all are.”

Dean looked away but nodded, because Lia was right. The Naturals came above his personal dealings, and it wasn’t fair of him to put strain on the group because of some silly childish feelings.

Lia ruffled his hair and stood up, before quickly leaning back. “Whatever it is, I do hope you’re okay though.”

Dean blinked up at her. “I’m fine, Lia.” Neither one of them acknowledged the blatant lie.

***

The day passed by slowly. Dean couldn’t seem to focus on his work, his mind drifting and his eyes glazing over. The other Naturals seemed restless too, all taking breaks for chatter and getting close to no work done.

“I think that’s a wrap,” Lia finally said, letting her binder drop to the ground. “Anyone interested in some rooftop ice cream with me?”

Her eyes cut to Michael’s, who closed his own binder and stood up. “Definitely. I’m not getting anywhere with this, and I’m always down for ice cream.”

Dean felt the hairs on the back of his neck stand up as Lia wrapped an arm around his and led Michael out of the room. You knew they were hooking up, Dean reminded himself. Stop being a wimp now. You knew what you were getting yourself into.

“Well, they’re definitely not going to eat ice cream,” Cassie giggled. Dean felt his stomach sink.

Sloane frowned. “I thought they just said that they were going to.”

“Oh, Sloane.”

Dean slumped further into his chair, trying to tune out the girls’ chatter. What he really wanted to do was to go workout to take his mind off of things, but Judd seemed to have other ideas.

“Dean?” Judd called out, beckoning him over to the kitchen. “Will you come here for a moment?”

Cassie made an “ooh” sound while Dean stood up and put his binder away, nerves spiked. He hadn’t done anything, had he?

Once Judd and Dean were alone in the kitchen, Judd’s face morphed into a sympathetic smile. “Dean, your father has written you a letter.”

Dean immediately tensed, his skin covered in goosebumps and the hair on the back of his neck sticking up. “What for?”

“Not sure. I didn’t read it. It felt too… personal.”

“Nothing between me and him is personal,” Dean mumbled, eyes dropping to his feet. He wanted no relationship with his father whatsoever.

Judd handed him the letter and patted him on the shoulder. “I’ll leave you to open that on your own time.”

Dean stood there, in silence, holding his letter in one hand, the rest of his body trembling. He wrote on this paper to you, he thought. He touched this sheet. He wrote these words. His terrible, guilty hands are now only one degree of separation from yours.

He slammed the letter down onto the kitchen counter and marched away, but something pulled him back. With a tremendous amount of guilt and a heavy heart, he snatched the letter up and shoved it into his pocket, making a beeline for his room.

***

After showering and changing into different clothes, the letter was still sitting ominously on his bedside table. There were no distractions left to keep him from opening it; he had already eaten dinner, said goodnight to Judd, and cleaned his room. Night was falling outside and the moon was already high in the sky alongside thousands of twinkling stars. The only light in the room was a blue lampshade Michael had insisted they buy the last time they had made a trip to Ikea.

Michael, please come back and distract me so I don’t have to open this letter, Dean silently pleaded, before hitting his head against the wall. He didn’t avoid his problems, and he certainly didn’t beg for anything from anyone. This letter had him going insane.

With twitching fingers, he reached towards the envelope, sitting down on the edge of his bed. His name was written across the front in big sprawling letters. His father had always liked dramatics.

It took him five minutes to actually open the envelope, and another two to read what it said inside. Finally, he managed to.

Dear Dean,

You only ever visit me for your silly little murder cases nowadays. Don’t you think your dear old dad deserves better? The last time I saw you was months ago, but boy you’re beginning to look like me. Makes me proud.
The holidays are coming up soon. Why don’t you come and visit me? I’ll even let it slide if you don’t bring me a present.
By the way, that wasn’t a request. Come and visit me. I need to talk to you. After all, what’s a boy with neither a mother nor a father?

See you soon,

Daniel Redding.

Dean slammed the letter to the floor, kicking it under his bed. He could feel the rage seeping through his bones. His nails dug into his palms, his breathing came in short gasps, and his heart pounded furiously against his chest.

There was absolutely no part of him that felt any love for his dad. His dad was a monster, a criminal, and a straight-out manipulator. He wanted nothing to do with that sorry excuse of a man, and there was certainly no part of him that contemplated the idea of seeing him. Absolutely not. Because that would be crazy. And wrong. Nope, Dean definitely wasn’t going to. Right?

Even questioning the idea of seeing his dad felt like a betrayal to all things he knew. It wasn’t that he didn’t know he was a horrible person, in fact, he knew that better than anyone. But there was some part deep down that thought that maybe, just maybe, he was just a dad who wanted to see his son again.

No, no, no. That was the manipulation. He just needed to snap out of it.

Dean glanced over at the clock. It was almost midnight. How long had he spent walking in angry circles around the room, practically pulling his hair out?

Well, seeing as Michael wasn’t back, that could only mean one thing. Dean’s eyes closed as he took a deep breath, desperately trying not to feel any sort of hurt over that.

He just needed to get out and away. Working out would be too loud, and Michael was the one with the car, but…

Half an hour later, Dean found himself in their outdoor pool. It was definitely too cold to be swimming, but he didn’t care. He swam laps and laps around, not stopping even as his muscles burned and his body begged for him to stop. But he couldn’t stop, not even for a moment. Stopping meant giving himself time to think.

He cut through the water gracefully, hair plastered against his forehead as he kept his face underwater, eyes open even with the chlorine. The lights on the pool weren’t turned on, so he found himself submerged in darkness.

Once he raised his face out of the water to catch a breath, he noticed he was no longer alone. Michael was on the other side of the pool, arms crossed over his chest as he stood in the waist-deep water.

Dean quickly averted his eyes but didn’t miss Michael’s deep blue swim shorts or the way his tan skin was pulled taught over his chest, muscles clearly visible at the surface. He hated the way his face warmed at the sight, hated the way his body ached to go to him.

Dean didn’t fully understand his pull to Michael. They had worked alongside each other for a couple years at that point, and yet his want for him felt stronger than ever. He had always recognized him as attractive, but it had been a bit before he started developing deeper feelings for him. Even then, he didn’t accept his feelings for Michael, brushing them off as a silly crush.

“Sorry to disturb your swimming.” Michael’s words were a shock in the still night air, cutting through Dean’s thoughts like ice.

“It’s fine,” Dean mumbled, glancing back at Michael, who had waded a little closer. “Busy night?” He added, then internally kicked himself for asking something like that. He certainly didn’t want Michael to know he cared. Think he cared. Because he didn’t care. Michael’s business was Michael’s business.

Michael smirked a little. “No, not really.”

“No?” Dean couldn’t help but ask.

Michael shook his head. “I was actually just telling Lia that what’s going on between me and her has to stop.”

Dean’s head snapped up, back towards where Michael was still slowly approaching. “What? Why would you do that?”

Michael rolled his eyes. “I think you know.”

“You shouldn’t have done that,” Dean spat out, feeling incredibly flustered. “There’s… there’s nothing going on here, between us. You and Lia have something. Don’t end that just because we made a couple of small mistakes.”

Usually, Michael would’ve flinched and left it alone, but he didn’t that night. “I know that’s what you think, Dean. But you’re wrong. There is something here, and I’ll be waiting for you to realize that.”

Michael was suddenly within touching distance, Dean realized, but he stayed still, frozen.

“Hey,” Michael murmured, voice dropping to a softer tone. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Dean quickly blinked and refocused.

“No, I can see something’s bothering you. I can read you, Dean, remember?”

Dean turned away, obscuring Michael’s view of his face. “It’s just… been a stressful night.”

He felt ripples of water lapping at his back as Michael moved a little closer. “Why’s that? Because of me? Or… something else?”

“Everything. But not just you.”

There was a beat of silence as Michael waited to see if Dean would share more or not. For a moment, Dean contemplated not telling him, but he knew he had to tell someone. And after all, Michael did have experience with pathetic dads.

As soon as Dean’s mouth opened, the words slipped from his tongue. He told Michael about the letter, reciting it word for word, and then told him about how he couldn’t decide whether or not to go. How he knew he shouldn’t want to, but some part of him wanted to see if his dad was trying to make a step towards being a good dad. And how he was scared of becoming like his dad.

Somewhere along the way, Michael’s arms wound up around Dean’s waist. When Dean was all out of words, he just breathed, his body shaking against Michael’s chest. He leaned his head back to rest against the hollow of Michael’s neck, Michael’s cheek pressed against his forehead.

“First of all, you are nothing like him,” Michael whispered, his arms tightening around Dean’s body. “And it’s okay to kind of want to see him. Even if he’s not a good guy. He’s still your dad. Just… I don’t want you to go to him and get hurt.”

Dean sighed. “I know. Trust me, I know.”

They stood like that for a long while, the moon lowering slightly in the sky. Finally, Michael stirred a little.

“I need to go and do something,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss to Dean’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, Dean.”

Dean shivered as Michael pulled away, the skin Michael had been touching covered in goosebumps.

“And Dean?” Michael turned back, eyes alight in the night. “Someday, all these moments between us are going to mean something.”

Notes:

a bit of a longer chapter since i haven't uploaded in a bit :) hope you guys enjoy! also hopefully i wrote sloane well i find her a little difficult but fun to write