Horror High: Chapter Two

[vanimadin]

Title: Horror High

Pairing: Destiel

Rating: NC-17 (in future chapters)

Warnings: Sex, Violence

Summary: John Winchester plants his eldest son at Caspar High in Jacksonville because weird things have been happening there: people disappearing. People reappearing only dead and drained of all their bodily fluids. Cocoons. It’s up to Dean to figure out what’s stalking Caspar’s halls and deal with it accordingly; but then he meets the New Kid—newer than him, even, the New-New Kid—Castiel Novak, and all his plans get severely derailed. Now Dean has to juggle the supernatural case—a really hungry jorogumo—and also the fact that he’s very quickly falling in love, something that is absolutely forbidden by his dad.

Meanwhile Castiel, shoved into the third new school in a year because his adoptive father—Chuck Shurley’s—job has them moving around a lot, struggles to fit in at Caspar High, not only because he’s the New Kid but because he’s the weird New Kid. Dean seems like a saving grace, a harbor in a storm, someone who doesn’t judge him—that is until Cas finds out about Dean’s night job. Cas’s life just got a whole lot stranger—but that doesn’t stop him from falling for Dean, regardless.

Notes: Can also be read HERE ON AO3. New chapter next Friday! :)
 

Dean ended up walking him all the way home after all. Neither of them said much. Dean’s thoughts were whirling, and Cas seemed a little in shock, but not so bad all things considered. When they arrived at Cas’s house, though, Dean declined to go inside, instead just checking over the other boy’s neck again, then instructing him to clean it and bandage it, and promising he would explain the next day.

Then he took off back to the motel.

Cas followed Dean’s orders, going inside and straight up to his room, where he dried off, changed his clothes, and then bandaged his neck to the best of his ability. He spent the rest of the night laying in bed staring at the ceiling, unable to sleep or even focus enough to do homework because vampires were real. Vampires. Were. Real.

 

The next day he was tired but felt well enough to go to school and like hell was he going to not go and miss Dean’s promised explanation. He looked for the other boy in the lobby before classes started in the morning but couldn’t spot him, and eventually the first bell rang. He would have to wait until lunch.

When lunch time arrived, he hurried down to the gym to wait anxiously for Dean to show up, half expecting him not to—and was relieved when Dean came around the corner, heading toward him but avoiding his eyes. Why, Cas didn’t know. It wasn’t like Dean had done anything wrong.

“Let me see your neck,” Was the first thing Dean said to him, and when Cas tilted his head to the side, the older teen checked over the bandage there quickly before nodding, “that’s good, it’s… it doesn’t hurt, does it?”

Cas shook his head. “No.”

“Good. Come on.” Dean headed into the gym and Cas followed, and together they climbed in behind the bleachers and settled in their usual spot. Cas fished out their lunches and handed Dean his, but Dean just set his sandwich aside for the time being, something serious obviously on his mind. “Cas, I… I’m sorry. That should never have happened to you.”

Cas was halfway to taking a bite of his sandwich but paused and made a confused noise, “why are you apologizing? You didn’t bite me.” Then he stopped, lowering his sandwich a little and said, vaguely, “vampires are real.” Before asking, “am I going to turn into a vampire now? That’s how it works, right? At least that’s how it works in books and movies, I don’t…” And then, again; “vampires are real.”

That finally seemed to break a little of the tension that had built up in Dean, and he laughed weakly. “You’re not going to turn into a vampire. You have to ingest their blood, or get it in an open wound or something. That’s how they turn people.”

“Vampires are real.” Cas repeated.

“Yes,” Dean confirmed, “and they’re not the only things that are real, there are…” Trailing off, he hesitated before pulling a battered notebook out of his jacket—the notebook he was always scribbling in—and holding it out. “This is my journal. It’s… all the things I’ve Hunted. All the stuff I know, about all the things that are out there. My Dad’s journal is—I mean, mine pales in comparison, but you’ll get the idea.”

“Hunted?”

“Yeah, I…” Another hesitation. This was clearly hard for Dean. “I’m not supposed to talk about this to anyone. It’s the Big Secret. But my family, me and my Dad mostly, we Hunt things. Evil things. Monsters. It’s why we travel around so much, we’re always tracking things down to kill them. My Dad’s in Utah right now taking care of a poltergeist situation.”

Cas set his food aside entirely and opened the notebook, flipping through the pages slowly, just skimming some of the handwritten text and drawings. “Monsters are real.” He amended, “and you… Hunt them?”

“Pretty much.”

That made Cas frown slightly, and he asked, “then why are you here, Dean?”

Dean winced at that. “Yeah, about that.” He rubbed a hand through his hair and heaved a sigh, “there’s something going on in this school. You’re new so you don’t know yet. But people keep vanishing, and turning up dead and dried up, like husks. Boys. And male teachers. It’s been happening for a while now. So… Dad dropped me and Sammy here to take care of it. It’s my first solo Hunt. I’ve only ever Hunted with him before.”

“Hm.” Cas hummed, still thumbling through the notebook. “Can I… hang onto this? Just for today? I’ll bring it back to you tomorrow, I promise, I just…”

“It’s a lot to take it at once.” Dean agreed, “just don’t lose it.”

“I promise.” Cas nodded, and carefully tucked the notebook into his backpack. Then he picked his lunch back up and began to eat, slowly and deliberately. “Hey Dean, tell me more about your family, your Dad and the Hunting stuff.”

More hesitation, but slowly Dean began to talk, laying everything out for him, giving Cas a clear picture of who his dad was as a person and as a Hunter, the way he had grown up, always on the road with his dad and Sam, the different Hunts he had been on, the different monster they had killed, the different people they had saved…

And once the floodgates opened, there seemed to be no closing them.

Dean continued to talk for a long time, about his dad, about his brother, about monsters that needed to be tracked down and eliminated, and Cas just focused on the movement of his mouth as it formed the words, unable to look away until, a few minutes later, he abruptly leaned over and kissed the other boy, effectively silencing him in an instant.

Dean froze—but then surged into movement again, grabbing hard at Cas’s shirt and shoving him back to arms’ length, green eyes darting over the younger’s face. For a moment, Cas worried that he had just bought himself a punch. Maybe two. Maybe more.

Instead, something seemed to click in Dean’s gaze, and he pulled Cas forward again, dragging him into another kiss, hard and deep. Cas made a little surprised sound in the back of his throat but—well—he wasn’t complaining, so he just went along with it, poured himself into the series of kisses that followed until they finally had to part to catch their breaths, Dean’s hands still fisted in the front of his shirt, holding him close the entire time.

“Well.” Cas managed finally, still breathing hard, “I mean. Sorry.”

Dean actually barked a laugh. Releasing Cas’s shirt, he leaned back against the brick wall behind them and shook his head. “My Dad is gonna kill me.”

“No boys?” Cas ventured.

“No relationships.” Dean corrected, “it’s one of the rules. I don’t think he’d care that you’re a boy.”

“Oh.”

“A relationship is a weakness that can be exploited. If I was just screwing you he wouldn’t care.” Dean heaved a sigh and turned his head to look at Cas, almost appraising. Finally, he cracked a little smile. “I think you might be worth it, though.”

Cas blinked in surprise and couldn’t help the small smile that crept across his own face. “So, this is a relationship, then?”

Dean reached with one hand to grab at the front of his shirt again, tugging gently until they were close once more, and leaned in for another kiss. “Yeah, I think. If you want.”

Cas most definitely wanted, not even the weird monster stuff could change that.

–
–

Though he hadn’t really had a chance to do much exploring of Jacksonville proper yet, and he wasn’t what you would call the Mall Type, Cas had discovered a couple of little stores nearby to where he lived that he rather liked shortly after moving there. They were located in a strip mall a couple blocks from his house.

The first was a pet store, Chicks Dig It, which specialized in birds but also sold things for other animals, including fish food, for his goldfish, and crickets that he could feed to his pet tarantula; the second was called Parchment Paper and was a second-hand bookstore, nothing more needed to be said there, and the third, Magickal Things, was a store catering to the local New Age and Pagan community.

He frequented all three, but that weekend he was in Magickal Things looking for talismans to ward off nightmares and coming up empty. He was also just poking around, because every time he went into Magickal Things they seemed to have a ton of new items that he had never seen before. The place was an absolute treasure trove.

Today, he found himself sorting through the gemstones and reading up on their uses, then admiring the suncatchers that were displayed prominently in the front window.

And then he spotted the little box of sew-on patches and a smile brightened his face immediately. He began digging through the box to see if any of them spoke to him, humming over a couple before choosing one that was a hand, palm out with the palmistry lines labelled on it. He kind of liked that one. Then he continued digging—until he found one that was round, just a simple pentagram. He pulled it out of the box, too.

People tended to associate pentagrams with Satanism, but Cas knew from talking with the shop owner that they were actually powerful protection sigils. This was perfect. Now he smiled down at the patch, pleased, and headed up to the front to pay.

–
–

Two days later found him under the bleachers with Dean again, and he handed the older boy his lunch but didn’t get into his own right away, instead digging out the pentagram patch and his needle and thread.

“Dean, take your jacket off.”

Dean looked up from taking a bite of his sandwich. He grinned. “If you want me out of my clothes you just have to ask, Cas.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Ever since they had upgraded their relationship from friends to boyfriends, Dean had been incorrigible, and while Cas actually found it weirdly charming, he refused to let that show. “I’m serious, Dean, I have something for your jacket, just hand it over.”

Dean sighed and wiggled out of his jacket, somehow without setting his sandwich down in the process, and held it out for Cas to take. Cas muttered a quiet thanks and carefully placed the patch on the right shoulder of the jacket before starting to sew. Dean went back to eating but watched him curiously.

“What is it?”

“Pentagram patch.” Cas continued sewing, “I found it at one of the stores that I go to. Pentagrams are supposed to be protection, right? So, I thought…”

Dean’s chewing slowed and he swallowed the bite of food in his mouth. “Cas…”

“I don’t want anything to happen to you.” Cas explained, as if it wasn’t obvious. Blue eyes were still on his work as he sewed, but he could feel Dean’s gaze on him. “I mean—it might not be much, but I’m not a witch or anything, I can’t cast protection spells, this is all I can do. I can sew. So, I…” There was silence from the other boy until Cas was finished and knotted the thread, snapping it off before returning his sewing supplies to his bag and holding the jacket back out for Dean, not quite meeting his eyes. “Here. I hope you don’t mind.”

Dean took the jacket, but just set it aside and reached to grasp Cas’s wrist, tugging him closer. He leaned in to bump their foreheads together gently, then gave Cas a kiss. “You care about me.” He accused, just teasing, then; “thank you.”

“Of course I care about you.” Cas offered a little smile, embarrassed. “You’re welcome.”

The rest of lunch hour was filled with soft murmurs and peanut butter and jelly flavored kisses, all under the protection of the bleachers and a freshly minted pentagram patch.

–
–

The following weekend, on the Saturday, Cas was invited to the motel for a Research Day. Which, admittedly, did not sound like all that much fun. But spending time with Dean was always nice, and maybe he could even get some kisses out of the deal, so Cas agreed and, with some trial and tribulation, found his way to the Seafoam Motel downtown on Saturday morning with some help from google.

He and Dean had exchanged phone numbers a few days before just in case he needed to call with help with directions. Cas had questioned Dean’s beat-up old flip phone—the thing had to be twenty years old—and Dean had gotten minorly defensive. It seemed he was a bit of a technophobe, at least to a certain extent. Cas actually found it endearing.

Now he was standing in front of the Seafoam Motel, a dingy building with everything painted an off-putting (of course) seafoam green, which had obviously seen better days. But from what Dean had told him, it was pretty normal for the motels they stayed at: nondescript, cheap, discrete, with good locks on the doors. It made sense, if half of what Dean had told him about a Hunter’s lifestyle was true.

Cas pulled out his cell and called Dean’s number. When Dean answered, he didn’t even bother with ‘hello’, just asked, “which room are you in?”

Dean laughed, “eleven,” and immediately hung up.

When he knocked on the door to the room he’d been directed to, there was a long pause before the locks all clicked open and Dean pulled the door inward with a grin. “Hey!” He stepped aside so Cas could come in, “Sammy’s at the library so it’s just us for now.”

“I brought my laptop.” Cas nodded to his backpack, where he had stuffed his laptop, along with the charger, a couple of notebooks and his pencil case. “I thought we might need it.”

“Yeah, Sammy took his with him, so that’s great.” Dean closed the door behind them and stood there for a minute before announcing, “and that concludes the tour!”

Cas chuckled softly.

The room wasn’t large, but it wasn’t exactly small, either. It had two double beds, a small dresser with a TV sitting on top of it, a kitchenette with a wobbly looking table and a couple of chairs, and another door which Cas assumed lead to the bathroom. It wasn’t much, but he figured it had everything they needed. Dean and Sam were probably stepping all over each other, though, cooped up in there as they were.

“Do you two actually cook in here?” Cas asked.

“Are you kidding? We live on take-out.” Dean scoffed, then, “do you cook?”

“I can burn water, according to my Father.” Cas blinked at him, “why do you think I always bring peanut butter and jelly for lunch? It’s the only thing I can make.”

Dean laughed while Cas shrugged out of his backpack and set it on the table (which only wobbled a little, to its’ credit), pulling his laptop out—and he was just setting it down next to the backpack when Dean’s arms slid around him from behind, winding around his waist and holding him tightly. Cas uttered a soft surprised noise, but Dean was already kissing at the crook of his neck and—oh. Yeah, that felt pretty nice, actually.

Dean let go of his waist to grab hold of one of his hands and tugged him over toward one of the beds—presumably Dean’s—where he sat down and patted the spot beside him until Cas muffled a laugh and sat as well. “You’re terrible.”

“And you’re really damn tempting.”

“Dean,” The other boy was already leaning to kiss by Cas’s jaw, and Cas sighed quietly. “we’ve been together for about ten minutes. You’re being ridiculous.” But Dean ignored him, continued kissing along Cas’s jaw until a smile began to tug at the younger boy’s lips… and he finally turned his head to meet the next kiss with one of his own. “I hate you.” He mumbled against Dean’s mouth.

“You do not.” Dean mumbled back, grinning, and kissed him again.

Ten minutes later and the next thing Cas knew he was on his back with Dean pressed down overtop of him and they were making out like it was the end of days and they would never get a chance to do it again. They had made out before a couple of times, under the bleachers at school, but this was different.

Dean was half-propped up on one arm against the mattress, kissing Cas deep and firm and hot, his knee pushed up between Cas’s legs and grinding there slightly—and Cas was just going with it, because it felt really freaking good, his entire body thrumming with electric pleasure as he dragged his hands along Dean’s back.

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to admit it or not, because Dean would probably think he was pathetic, being new to all this at his age, but he had never done anything like this before—but then again, it wasn’t like his reactions weren’t giving him away, anyway, squirming and rocking under the other boy like he was a virgin. Which he was, but still. And then Dean’s free hand slid up under his shirt, feeling along his side to his abdomen, making Cas arch into the feeling and—

“DEAN! Oh my God gross! You know Dad’s gonna murder you for bringing a girl here righ—”

Dean practically jerked away from him when the new voice piped up from the doorway, leaving Cas to collect himself before sitting up carefully, hair and clothes mussed, to look over. The door was open and a kid no older than twelve or thirteen was standing there, backpack slung over his shoulder and gaping at the sight in front of him. This had to be Sam. Couldn’t be anyone else. Cas swallowed and licked his lips before lifting a hand in a pathetic half-wave. “Uh. Hi.”

“You’re not a girl.” Sam stated, sounding a weird combination of baffled and impressed. He looked at Dean. “And before you try telling me you’re just friends, you should probably put your hard-on away, dude.”

Dean sputtered and demanded, “there is such a thing as liking both, you know!”

“Oh, I know that.” Sam shrugged, “just didn’t think you did.” Then; “Dad’s still gonna kill you.”

Dean ran a hand through his hair and gave a pointed glare. “Not if he doesn’t know about it, Sam.”

“Ooooh, do I have one over you, here?” The grin that split Sam’s face was downright diabolical. “You are going to owe me for this.”

Dean muttered under his breath but finally agreed. “Fine. Deal. Just keep your trap shut about it, okay?”

Sam shrugged again, a seeming acceptance of the terms, and flung his backpack onto the second bed, then plopped down next to it to look Cas over. He had the same kind of analytical way of looking through a person as his older brother did, and Cas found himself shifting uncomfortably after a minute. Dean, meanwhile, announced that he was going for sodas and left the room entirely, probably just to get some air. Finally, Cas cleared his throat and nodded toward Sam’s shirt, where one of the pockets of his flannel was torn.

“What happened there?”

Sam blinked, surprised, and glanced down at his shirt. “Oh. New Kid hazing. You know how it is.”

Cas nodded. He did know how it was; he remembered the basketball incident his first day, the one that had introduced him to Dean. “I can fix it for you.” He offered and reached for his own backpack where it had been tossed on the floor, then opened it to fish out a spool of thread and a needle. “I always have this stuff on me, just in case. Give me your shirt and I’ll sew it up.”

When Sam looked skeptical, Cas flipped his bag around to show off the collection of patches that were sewn across the front. “I did them all myself. I’m actually pretty good at sewing. This one is my favorite.” He tapped one finger against the pair of black wings in the top center of the backpack. “Like angel wings, right?”

After another moment of hesitation, Sam shrugged out of his flannel and handed it over. Cas smiled and immediately got to work. When Dean came back a few minutes later Cas was deep into sewing the tear in Sam’s shirt and barely acknowledged him when he came in the door. Dean tossed a can of soda over to his brother and nodded toward Cas, “what’s going on here?”

“He’s fixing my shirt.” Sam offered with a blink.

“Oh, yeah, he does that.” Dean set another soda down on the bed next to where Cas was just finishing tying the thread off and snapping it with his teeth, then crossed over to perch on the edge of the kitchenette table. When he was done, Cas smiled down at his work, then tossed the shirt back to Sam, who made a kind of hmm face at him before muttering a thanks around the rim of his drink. Cas sat back, hand bumping into the soda that was sitting next to him, and picked it up to open it with a little thanks of his own. Dean just smiled at him from his position safely behind Sam’s back.

“I have two questions.” Sam announced finally, as if he couldn’t stand the silence.

Cas’s eyebrows rose a little. “Mm?”

“Okay, first, what’s your freaking name, dude, I mean really? I walk in on you and my brother—uh. Doing things—I don’t even want to know what—and you never even introduced yourself?” The younger boy sounded exasperated.

“If by walked in on you mean interrupted.” Dean groused.

Cas nearly choked on his cola, but Sam had a point, there, so once he’d coughed a couple of times, he waved one hand placatingly. “Castiel. I’m Castiel. But just Cas for short is fine.”

“Nice to meet you, Cas.”

“Nice to meet you, too, Sam.” And then; “what’s your second question?”

Sam’s eyebrows lifted and his eyes flicked to Cas’s backpack. “Why are your angel wings black? Shouldn’t they be white?”

“That’s two questions.” Dean pointed out. Sam gave him a flat look.

That was actually a good question, though. Cas smiled to himself almost absently as he considered his answer, one finger tapping against the can in his hands. “I think… angels are God’s warriors, right? That’s how they’re portrayed in the bible a lot of the time. I mean they’re also portrayed as loving and forgiving and graceful, too, but… anyway. I think to be the kind of warrior that God calls upon you would need to get your hands dirty. I think angels probably aren’t the pure, sinless beings that everyone paints them to be. If that makes sense.” He tilted his head slightly, “hence the black wings.”

Sam frowned a little in thought before admitting, “that’s an interesting theory.”

Behind him, Dean just rolled his eyes. “It’s all bullshit. Angels aren’t real. Ghosts are real. Chupacabras are real. We Hunt all kinds of things. But angels? Not so much.”

Sam’s head whipped around, and he stared hard at his brother. “Dean, does he know?!”

“Uh.”

“You told him!”

“I—wh—I mea—” Dean hedged with half-words for a moment, then set his can of soda down and gave Sam a firm look; “we got ambushed by a vampire on the way home from school the other day and I just—what was I supposed to do? Cas saw everything and deserved answers!”

“It’s the big rule, Dean!”

“I know! You think I don’t know?!”

“Was this before or after you started making out with him?” Sam demanded, and when Dean gave him a look, he informed; “just trying to figure out your state of mind, that’s all!”

Dean grumbled but allowed it. “Before.”

Sam continued staring hard at Dean, Dean staring right back, neither of them blinking—until Cas interrupted their little stand off, shifting in his seat, to offer, “I understand how important what Dean told me is. Why it’s all a secret. Telling people could get you hurt, right? But I promise, Sam, I’ll never tell another soul. I care about your brother too much to put him—or you—in danger like that.”

Sam turned back around to face Cas again. “You care about him?”

“Yes. Of course.” Cas nodded, then added, “I don’t kiss people I don’t care for.”

Dean snorted softly and muttered, “oh, please, I was your first kiss and we both know it.”

“Is that a bad thing?” Cas asked with just the faintest flush.

A little, quirk of a smile tugged at Sam’s lips. He heaved a sigh. “Okay, I mean, the cat’s already out of the bag. All we can do is trust you, right?” He looked back at Dean again; “what are you going to tell Dad?”

“Nothing. For now, anyway. What he doesn’t know can’t hurt me.” Dean gestured toward Sam, “don’t you tell him.”

Sam held his hands up placatingly, “I already said I wouldn’t.” And then, “but you still owe me.”

“What does he owe you?” Cas questioned curiously.

“Mmm. A favor.” Sam’s reply was contemplative. “To be determined.”

“I hate this.” Dean muttered.

“You should.” Sam confirmed with a little grin. Then he turned his attention back to Cas to ask, “anyway, what are you even doing here? Aside from the obvious.” A quick glance toward the table, “you brought your laptop, so…”

Cas shifted slightly and ran a hand through his hair, trying to make sure it wasn’t still mussed all to hell. “Dean wanted me to come over and help with research, about whatever’s going on at the school.”

“Research…” The younger teen drawled, “riiiiight.”

Dean made the motion of smacking Sam up the back of the head but didn’t actually do it. Cas laughed. “You were at the library and things just… happened.” He, at least, had the decency to look embarrassed, “but now that you’re back we really can do some research if you want. Though honestly, I’m not really sure what I’m looking for. Dean said something about dried up bodies?”

Sam hesitated just slightly before nodding and adding, “and cocoons. We’ve had at least one cocoon.”

“Cocoon.” Cas stated almost blankly.

“Yeah, cocoon.” Dean sighed and set his can of soda down, heading over to sit down next to Cas again, “look, you don’t have to be here. You can just go. You don’t have to have anything to do with this.”

But Cas shook his head, “no, I…” He frowned. “I want to help. I can’t know about these things and just do nothing.” He wasn’t a Hunter himself, but the least he could do was help with a little research. That couldn’t hurt, right? He stood up and crossed the room to grab his laptop. “So, lets’ get started. What’s the wifi password here?”

Sam looked at Cas for a long moment before glancing toward Dean and saying, “I like him.”

Dean just regarded his new boyfriend fondly. “Yeah, so do I.”

–
–

The three of them hung out and did research for a couple of hours, then Dean left to go get lunch and bring it back. Lunch turned out to be cheeseburgers, which Sam did not seem surprised or particularly plussed by. He ate the food anyway with only the briefest of complaints about all the grease.

While they were eating they talked some more, just about school and other bland topics, and Cas and Sam exchanged phone numbers. Once they were done, they went back to work, until Cas had to pack up and leave around four to walk home—so he would be home in time for dinner and his father wouldn’t worry about him.

Dean pulled him into a couple of little, lingering kisses at the door before he disappeared, and Sam watched the whole display with sharp eyes, taking it all in. He had never seen his big brother act this way before. It was… different. Not bad, necessarily, just not the norm.

“What?” Dean demanded as he closed the door behind Cas and went about locking it. He could feel Sam’s eyes on him even with his back to the younger boy.

Sam looked back down at the book in his hands. “Nothing. I just like your boyfriend, that’s all.”

Dean sputtered and tried to protest, “no, it’s not like that, Sammy, Cas and I are just—”

“Fuck buddies?” Sam suggested without looking up from his book.

“Who taught you that?!” Dean demanded, then waved his hands dismissively and began pacing up and down the room restlessly, “we’re not having sex, Sam!”

“Sure looked like that was the direction you were headed earlier.”

“You are taking that completely out of context!”

“You were on top of him and had your hands up his shirt.” Sam glanced up with a raised eyebrow. “And then you made eyes at each other the entire rest of the time he was here. Like the whole time.”

“We did not!”

“Dude, seriously, Dad is going to murder you if he finds out.”

Dean stopped and pointed a finger at him. “You promised you wouldn’t tell him!”

“Oh, so now there’s something to tell?” Sam smirked—then finally took pity on his older brother. Sort of. He closed his book and chucked it at Dean, but at the same time informed him; “I won’t say anything. I did promise, and besides, I do like Cas. He’s nice. You could do worse.”

Dean swatted the book out of the air and flailed his hand a little before regarding Sam suspiciously. “Really?”

“Believe it or not, Dean, I do not thrive on your misery. Besides, you know how I feel about most of Dad’s rules.”

There was a brief pause before Dean said softly, “thanks, Sammy.”

Sam tilted his head a little, curiously, “you really like him, don’t you? I mean more than the girls you’ve been with before.”

“I… yeah.” Dean agreed, almost embarrassed now; “the girls were just sex. Cas is… different.”

“Well, he’s a dude, first off.”

“No! I mean—yeah, obviously, but that’s not what I mean, and you know it.”

Dean was standing there, so obviously flustered over the entire thing that Sam finally just sighed. “I get it.” He said softly, “you like him, capital L ‘like.’ It’s like your first real crush that isn’t on a celebrity, it’s a big deal.”

“It’s not a crush, it’s…”

“I know, I know. I told you, I get it, Dean. You’re allowed to like someone, and who cares if it’s a guy?”

Dean stared at him for a few seconds before dismissing embarrassedly, “you’re thirteen, what do you know?”

Sam gave him a knowing little smile. “Apparently more than you.”