Chapter Text
Castiel shrugged his black trench coat over a black long sleeved tee shirt, and shoved his feet in Doc Martens. He grabbed his backpack and slowly climbed the stairs where his beloved tea was being brewed.
The travel mug was placed in the sink from yesterday.He rinses it out and pours in fresh tea. Cas then looked at the clock and realized he had missed half of his first class. “Better late than never,” he mumbles to himself, before walking out the door.
The 1974 black Cadillac hearse was sitting in the driveway. He tossed his backpack into the back where a makeshift bed had been made out of a twin sized air mattress, a huge comforter, and four pillows. It was the best place to take naps during skipped classes and it was big enough to fit two people, if they squeezed. Cas pulled the mirror down, checked his smudged eyeliner, and straightened his septum ring.
***
The dingy halls of his school smelled like perspiration mixed with desperation. Class got out in twenty minutes and Cas didn’t feel like interrupting his street law class, which was really just a class about how to use common sense, so he headed to the corner near the library where he and his friends hung out. It was the one place without a security camera.
He took slow sips of tea while cursing the school’s wi-fi for blocking Tumblr, Instagram, Twitter, along with all other useful social medias. He put his headphones in before pressing play on his “Fuck This, That, and You” playlist turning it up to a dangerously loud volume. He picked at a thread in his jeans before becoming bored. He pulled a composition book out of the backpack on his right, along with some gel pens. He was sketching a pair of wings while he absentmindedly picked at the matte black polish on his nails.
He removed his headphones as a screeching noise, that sounded like a pterodactyl, came from down the stairs. “Castiel, you will not believe what this fuckwad said in photography!” Imogene says as she stomped up the stairs.
“Let me guess. They said something really offensive and you set them straight?” Cas said, as this was an almost daily occurrence. Imogene’s self assigned main role at school was to keep the assholes who thought that they could say anything and get away with it in line.
She slid down the wall onto the floor and rolled her eyes. Imogene grabbed the travel mug sitting on the floor and took a large gulp. “Fuck Cassie, how can you drink this? It’s boiling hot and tastes like shit.”
Cas shrugged, taking his mug back to take a sip as Imogene continued to complain about the fuckwad who thought it was funny to make sexist jokes in her presence.
A tall boy wearing a flannel and leather jacket, that was too big, came up to Imogene.“Okay, I’m sorry, Imogene. I shouldn’t have said that, it wasn’t funny.” The boy then dropped to one knee and said,, “Is there anyway you can ever find it in your heart to forgive me?”
Imogene rolled her eyes and pushes him. “Fuck you Dean.”
“Okay. I really am sorry. ” Dean said, with what sounded like true remorse in his voice. “Fine, whatever. You say anything like that again and I will rip your balls off, with my teeth.” Imogene smirked. “Dean this is Castiel. Castiel this is Dean.”
Dean looked over to the boy and wondered why he had never seen him before. His trenchcoat swallowed him whole but he could tell that the boy was thin. His black and blue overgrown mohawk stuck up in every direction, it was pure sex hair. Castiel looked up and piercing blue eyes met his. Dean was infatuated.
“Hey Cas.” Dean smiled as he said it.
“Too fuckin’ early.” Cas said, setting his sketch pad down. He crawled over Imogene to Dean.
“Castiel!” Imogene snapped.
Castiel flipped her off and murmured something that sounded like, “Smells good”, as he leaned against the wall next to Dean.
“Someone's a flirt.” Imogene smiled. Dean laughed. Cas just grinned and flipped him off. He leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder and began to fall asleep.
***
“Cas...” Imogene was two inches from his face, “CASTIEL NOVAK IT’S TIME FOR CLASS!”
Castiel bolted upright and punched Imogene square in the stomach. She fell backwards with a pained laugh. “Oh fuck you man.”
Cas stood up, grabbed his tattered backpack, and tea before he began to sulk away. He looked at Dean, who was trying to stifle his laughter.
“I love you Cassie.” Imogene yelled after him.
“Love ya too, I guess.” He yelled back over his shoulder.
Castiel got halfway to class before he decided that he didn’t want to put the effort into French class today. He turned around and headed back to where Dean was still sitting. Imogene didn’t like to be late so she was already on her way to Calculus, ten minutes before class actually started.“Hey, Bee, wanna skip class?” Cas was leaning against the wall and Dean looked up at him from his phone.
“I just met you.” Dean looked skeptical at the boy.
“I’m Castiel Novak and you’re cute. Now can we go, please?”
Dean rolled his eyes and stood up. “Fine, as long as we don’t do anything illegal.”
Cas threw his head back and let out a half yell, half groan and dragged his feet as he walked. “You’re such a buzzkill Deano!” He continued walking. “Come on buddy. Let’s go.”
Dean followed behind.
***
Cas led him to the far corner of the student parking lot to his hearse.
“What is that?” Dean looked disgusted.
“It’s my car dumbass” Castiel said as he opened the back. He stood there for a second, staring at the confused boy infront of him. He gestured into the car “You gonna get in or do you just want to stare at it?”
Dean just looked at him.
Cas rolled his eyes and crawled in, the air mattress dented under him. “I don’t bite.” He smiled.
Dean crawled in and shut the door behind him. Cas tossed his backpack and trench coat into the dip between the door and the mattress, Dean did the same with his bag and leather jacket. Castiel took out his phone and shuffled his “Breathe Smoke In, Breathe Smoke Out” chill playlist and set his phone down. He laid on his back with one arm under his head. “Make yourself comfortable, Bee.”
Dean leaned against the front seats. “Why do you call me Bee?”
Cas propped himself up on one elbow. “I don’t know, I like bees.”
That answer seemed to satisfy the boy. Cas reached down to the side of the makeshift bed and searched for a second until he found the cigarette carton and a lighter. He placed one of the cigarettes between his lips and held one towards Dean. “Cancer stick?”
Dean took it from the boy’s slender fingers. Dean noticed Cas had finger tattoos. There were four X’s across his knuckles and a small dot under each nail on his right hand. This was just another thing for Dean to be enamored with.
Cas lit his cigarette and handed the lighter to the other boy. He cranked the windows down halfway before grabbing one of the pillows and placing it on Dean’s lap. He laid back down but this time with his head on the pillow. Dean’s body stiffened. He had realized now that Cas was a touchy person. After a few minutes, he relaxed with the boy's head still on his lap.
“So, Bee, tell me a secret.” Cas took a drag from his cig blowing the smoke out.
Dean watched as it curled out of his lips. He looked up at Dean waiting for his answer. “Oh um, I don’t know. Like what?”
“You know... a secret. Something nobody knows about you.”
“My guilty pleasure is watching X Files.”
Cas laughed. “Seriously? That’s your secret?”
“What about you?” Dean asked, annoyed. He ashed his cigarette out the window.
“I’m an asshole.” Cas smirked. “I’m going nowhere in life and I’m generally boring.” Dean let out a sigh. “Seriously, Cas?”
The black haired boy rolled his eyes. “Fine. I want to be an artist, and I really am an asshole.” He flicked his cigarette butt out the window almost like he was making a point.
He rolled to one side, head still on Dean’s lap, and picked at the loose threads on his jeans. Dean disposed of his cigarette butt out the window.
The hearse was quiet except for Cas’ music playing softly and the two boys relaxed in content silence. Cas was distracted by the growing hole in his jeans and Dean was distracted by Cas. He counted his piercings, of which he had eight. He noticed the freckles trailing up his pale neck. He wanted to play with Cas’ hair. It was deep black at the roots and faded into a dark blue at the tips, like raven wings. Before he could stop himself, he ran his fingers through Cas’ hair. Dean began to pull back but Cas pushed his head into Dean’s hand and made a content, almost purring sound. “I’m a whore for people playing with my hair. So, don’t stop.”
Dean ran his fingers through Cas’ hair for three or four songs before Cas shoved his sleeves up his arms, revealing a couple of crude tattoos.
“What are those?” Dean pointed to a gravestone.
“They’re these really cool things called tattoos, Bee.” Sarcasm dripped from his voice.
Dean flicked Cas’ ear. “You know what I mean.”
“I did these ones myself.” Cas pointed to the dots on his fingers and the gravestone reading “RIP” on his forearm. “These,” he pointed to the X’s and the UFO on his upper arm, “are professional. The X’s and the dot’s look cool. I got the UFO because Imogene and I got high on my roof and we swear to this day that we saw a UFO. I could probably make up a story behind the gravestone, like how my youth is dead or a reminder that I’ll die someday. In reality, I thought it just looked cool.”
“Do you have any others?” Dean asked.
Cas looked up at him. “If you ever get my pants off, you’ll see.” He winked.
Dean looked a peculiar mix of confused and excited.
Cas grabbed his phone and checked the time. “Class is over in fifteen minutes. I actually want to go to art so, we should smoke one more cigarette then get going.”
“Unfortunately, I need to go to Cain’s class or he will have my head on a silver platter. He’s such a dick.” Dean leaned his head against the seat and sighed.
Cas laughed. “We should really do this again, Bee.” He smiled as he handed a cigarette to Dean, before he lit his own.
“Sounds like a plan.”