Chapter Text
Lawrence, December 2001
No one remembered how Dean and Castiel became friends.
They met at school when they were 11, but the friendship came naturally.
It might have started with small talks in the classes they shared, which became more frequent, until Dean's birthday came up and he decided to invite Castiel to his party, who then returned the favour. At some point they'd sit together at lunch, and ask their parents if their friend could come over to play video games. They got comfortable enough to talk about deeper things than regular jokes, like their dreams, their fights with family members, frustration from school and not being taken seriously by grown ups.
They had almost nothing in common, but together they were able to have the best of time without anything or anyone else.
Dean liked cars, sports, comic books, pranking his brother, spending time with his mother.
Castiel liked books, movies, studying, swimming, hiking and nature in general.
Still, they'd hang out all the time; sometimes alone, sometimes with other friends, sometimes tired, other times making fun of each other. They grew together for three years and the intimacy that bonded them couldn't vanish from one day to another.
The problem came when those days became a lot. In high school, they didn't spend as much time together anymore: they found new friends, new hobbies filled their free time and less classes shared only helped the process. They'd still say hi to each other when they met in school, and sometimes even did some small talk, catching up, not ashamed to be seen together. That wasn't the problem. They both didn't give a fuck about their new friends' judgment against the other: they only didn't feel the need to hang out like they used to.
They both knew without saying that they could count on each other, come whatever; but right now they needed to grow apart, make new experiences. Freshman year passed like that.
During sophemore year they never sat together at lunch, nor bought presents for their birthdays.
That's why when Dean called on Christmas day in junior year, Castiel didn't expect anything besides a courtesy call.
Instead, they started to exchange their relatives stories, how Lucifer managed to come up with a primadonna scene at lunch, or the curious fact that Bobby brought someone called Ellen at Dean's.
The conversation went on, which meal was better, whose traditions were more fun, until they had nothing else to say and an awkward silence fell on the line. Castiel didn't want to hang up, but he honestly didn't know what to tell anymore: any fun story he heard from school wouldn't have the same effect on Dean, who would probably find it boring. It's like they didn't know how to talk anymore. Which was sad, and almost depressing if you thought about it too much, which Castiel was trying not to.
“So I guess... merry Christmas, Dean”
“Yeah, just, mh, actually I also called you to ask you something. I'm kind of embarassed, but I don't know what else to do, so...”
“What is it, Dean?”
“Well, I'm failing some classes. Most of them. Let's say I'm okay only with maths and physics. And I personally don't care very much, but I don't want to upset my mother, so I was wandering if we could... if you could help me out a little? In these last few days before Christmas break ends. I'm so sorry to ask you this, but you're the only one good at school that I know, so...”
Well, of course he was seeking help with his homework. Why did Castiel think he just wanted to see him? He sighed. That would mean working for free for the next month at least; if Dean was really failing all of his classes, a few days together wouldn't make much difference. And that would eat a lot of his own time, which was carefully organized and divided in activities.
Still, it was Dean asking. He couldn't say no, he'd never do that.
“Okay, Dean. Which subjects to you need help with?”
“Mh, mainly History and Biology. And I'm little behind with English and Spanish, but I can make it on my own with them. Could you come over the day after tomorrow? Around 3 pm”
“Okay.”
“Thank you so much, Cas, I owe you one”
“No problem. Bye, Dean.”
“Bye, see you.”
He hung up the phone and returned to the living room, where all of his siblings and cousins where exposing their fake smiles, while racing against each other about who was living or was going to live the most successful life: he was sick of seeing his home becoming a theatre during family occasion, but that was his normality. Anna, his sister, was reading a book alone, next to cousin Balthazar, who was using his charm to enchant Castiel's mother. He knew he'd hear “Your cousin is so great, you should learn something from him” pretty soon. He didn't mind anymore: you can't chose your family, right?
He excused himself, and went to his bedroom; he wasn't winning the 'best son of the year' award anyway.
Dean.
Dean was – obviously – in the football team, and by then, being juniors, he'd already got the attention of the whole female part o the school.
He used to make fun of him with his friends, Meg, Kevin and Charlie. They were the group of people who felt superior by being alternative and not following the mainstream rules; Meg was a little slutty, but proud of it, Charlie enjoyed boy's stuff and was a complete geek, while Kevin was the only asian kid in the school, and a fan of technology. Castiel, well, his rebellion was not being rebellious at all. He got all straight A's, and didn't feel the need to hide it. He was on top of every activity, and teachers loved him. Hated by most of his classmates, he didn't want to hide it or making it look like he didn't want to be the nerd. He liked studying, and he liked being praised. Nothing wrong with that.
So of course, spending time with Dean would mean spending time with another way of living, another universe. It would mean spending time with a person who had different priorities and who appreciated different things. It didn't use to be a problem when they were younger, but now that they were building their lives and their future, maybe it could become one.
Castiel laid on the bed and tried to distract himself by finishing the book he was reading.
He hoped things wouldn't get weird with Dean.
* * *
New York, September 2016
After leaving Castiel's apartment, Dean decided to go get some late lunch and walk around the city for the rest of the day. Sam was going to ask him what he'd done during the day, and he needed a plan. Mostly, he needed not to think.
He eventually got to Times Square and decided that would be it for the day. He didn't like it. Too many people, everyone minding their own buissness. And he was on his own too, but that didn't stop him from looking where he was going and avoiding to run into strangers.
He made his way back to Sam's place, took a shower and turned on the tv, waiting for his brother to come back home.
He hoped watching low quality shows would stop him from thinking about what he'd done, but he had no such luck.
He fucked Castiel. Made love with? He didn't know. Gosh, it felt so strange to even think about it. They were grown ups, yet they acted like two horny teenagers.
Which is what led you in this situation in the first place.
No, that wasn't right. He wasn't just horny when he'd dated Castiel. He was in love. But what was he that morning?
The image of Castiel's body crashed his thoughts, and for a second he was afraid he'd start to relive the whole scene. But then he thought of Lisa. Shit, he had forgotten her multiple times during the day.
His brain was in total confusion and he didn't know how to act and in what order.
He had to talk to Sam; tell him everything. He'd promised Castiel he would. But maybe he had to talk to Lisa first? Was he going to tell her any of this?
Maybe.
Maybe with everything out in the open, they could start fresh. Or maybe she'd move out and never see him again. Would it be that bad? Yes. No. Maybe.
Maybe Sam would understand him, or maybe he would leave too.
Fuck.
He should have asked Castiel's number.
No, it's better like this.
And now they're kissing again in his head.
Memories mixing with the ones from the past. Castiel's hands on his body.
Stop.
He had to talk to someone, or else he was going to explode. He unlocked his phone to call his brother and tell him to hurry up, but he found an unread text from Lisa.
“Got some news to celebrate, can't wait to see you! Love you.”
Shit.