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Dean fell in love as soon as he opened his mouth.
They were so different from one another, practically complete opposites. If he loved winter, Dean would love summer. If he preferred coffee, Dean would prefer hot chocolate. Although they differed, they still liked each other a lot.
Probably the biggest thing that made them different was personality. Dean was considered, by stereotypic standards, a jock. And the only reason why he called it a stereotype was because people always thought of Dean as your average, every day douchebag. The kind of letterman-equipped asshole who bullies dorky guys for a living.
But Dean wasn't like that.
Dean played football and was on the track team, yeah, but he cared about his grades too. It was mostly his little brother Sam's fault he's like that. The kid was responsible and smart, and Dean wanted to impress him, to show him that he wasn't like the other guys on his teams. So he tried, and the lowest grade he had ever gotten in high school was a C+, which wasn't too bad. Algebra was just tough when he was a freshman. And so nowadays, he studies when he needs to, does his homework, and gets A's and B's, earning him a spot on the honor roll. Where does the word "douchebag" fit in to all of that?
But despite the academic accomplishments, he can never beat one person when it comes to being hilariously amazing.
Dean remembered how they met like it was just yesterday.
It was a beautiful day in November. The season was about coming to a close, and the football team was having their last practice. He and a friend, Benny, were messing around, throwing the ball weakly at each other. At one point, the ball managed to fly over Dean's head and landed somewhere near the bleachers next to the most attractive boy he had ever seen.
He watched as the boy picked it up. Dean would usually signal for the person to throw it back, but he was not missing an opportunity to meet sex hair and blue eyes over there.
"Hey there, you lurking?" was the first thing Dean asked him, and he mentally punched himself in the face.
The boy tilted his head with side eyes as he dropped the ball. He was confused at first, then when he got it, he rolled his eyes and smiled. "I'm pretty sure watching you guys practice and lurking are two different things..."
"Dean," he finished, extending his hand out.
The boy raised an eyebrow and shook his hand. "Castiel."
Dean smiled. "Nice name, Cas."
"Don't cyberbully me in real life, Dean."
"I'm kidding," Dean laughed, earning him a smile from Castiel. Dean liked this guy. He possessed a nice sense of humor, and also a nice face. He had messy brown hair and bright blue eyes that clearly became his new favorite color.
And although he kept wanting to stare, he had to keep talking because Castiel had a voice that was just as hot. "I've never seen you here before. What brings you here?"
"Actually, I'm looking for my glasses. I was hauling my instrument across the field because it was a shortcut, and they just fell from my face. I'm practically blind at the moment," Cas explained, embarrassed.
Dean gave him a reassuring smile. "Hey, nothing to be ashamed of. I'll help you look for it," he volunteered.
Cas looked past Dean's shoulder. "But your prac-"
"Practice?" Dean interrupted, picking up the ball and throwing it hard towards the direction of the team in one swift movement. "What practice?"
Cas laughed. "I may be blind, but I saw that. And I saw your shitty throwing too."
It was Dean's turn to roll his eyes. "Whatever. I'm just glad the season's over. Can't stand most of them," he admitted. "But enough about me. Let's look for those glasses. It shouldn't be too hard to look for."
"Thank you, Dean," Castiel said genuinely.
They searched for a few seconds in silence until Dean decided he couldn't stand not talking to the beautiful human being.
"So you were talking about an instrument?" he asked.
"Hm? Oh yeah," Cas confirmed.
"What instrument would be heavy enough to make your glasses fall?" Dean said jokingly.
"I play the cello," Cas answered, impressing Dean.
"Wow, that's cool," Dean said honestly. "I've always wanted to play a stringed instrument. Only managed to teach myself guitar. Do you play any other instruments?"
"Uh," Cas thought out loud, "piano. Oh, and the ukulele!"
"Man, you are amazing," Dean grinned.
Cas gave him a shy smile. "Don't butter me up here."
Dean laughed yet again. "You're real funny too."
"I aim to please."
Dean gave him a mischievous smile and decided to take a risk. "You've got a nice face as well."
Dean saw the instant blush that crept all over the boy's face. "Are you flirting with me, Dean..."
"-Winchester," he answered. "And yes, I am."
"You aren't allowed to do that," Cas scolded lightly.
"Why not?" Dean asked, tilting his head in the same manner as Castiel did before.
"Because you haven't asked me what kind of music I liked," he replied nonchalantly.
Dean shook his head in disbelief as he laughed. He was falling for him in a matter of minutes. "Okay then, Castiel..."
"Novak," Cas answered.
"Novak," Dean repeated. "What kind of music do you like?"
"I like the Beatles," he replied with the biggest, most adorable grin Dean has ever seen in his entire life. He felt himself swooning.
"You were just waiting for someone to ask you that, huh?" Dean asked him, smiling.
Cas rolled his eyes. "Well duh. People have bad taste in music nowadays. I can't stand it. Besides, I think it's pretty hard to look for someone young who still likes them, you know?"
"I know what you mean," Dean agreed. "You're one of a kind, Castiel Novak."
"Thanks. By the way, I don't have a favorite song from them. It's hard to choose," he said, purposely going off on a tangent from Dean's flirtatious advances just to annoy him.
"My mom likes 'Hey Jude', but I personally like 'I Saw Her Standing There'," Dean took a step closer towards him. "I mean, that's how I started talking to you."
"No way," Cas denied, but took a step forward as well. "I'm pretty sure I'm not a girl."
"Well, let's just change the 'her' to 'him' then."
"And we're not dancing."
"We could be."
"I don't do dancing."
"Jesus, Castiel," Dean said, chuckling. "You are stubborn as hell."
"Hell isn't something I would use for comparison. Since when did Hell have sentience?"
"And you think you're so smart too," Dean snaked his hands on Cas' waist and leaned in, staring into his eyes.
"Thank you. I do make sure the sleepless hours of studying every night are worth it," Cas replied as he put his arms around Dean's neck, leaning his forehead against his. There was a slight height difference between the two that made them fit perfectly into each other.
"How diligent of you," Dean said, sounding like the sarcastic tone Cas had been using the whole time.
"Hey, look at that. I'm rubbing off on you," Cas chuckled.
"Just kiss me, Novak."
"Say please."
"Uh, no."
They both leaned in until their lips touched, and they sighed in content. They didn't kiss for long. They made sure that it was sweet and short, but not abrupt or rushed.
But even if it was the first time, Dean felt like he'd been kissing Cas for years.
They stayed like that for a few more seconds before pulling away.
"How dare you," Cas said, keeping his arms around Dean. "You didn't say please."
"Please please me," Dean replied grinning. Cas groaned at the reference but didn't stop the smile forming on his face.
"Did you just-"
"I know a thing or two about the Beatles," Dean said cheekily.
"Well then," Cas breathed, "you are my new favorite person."
"Does that mean I get permission to date you now?" Dean asked.
Cas rolled his eyes. "Not until we find my glasses. Got that?"
"Fine," Dean sighed. He paused for a second until he started singing, "I'm in love with her, and I feel fine!"
"Stooooop."