The front door of the Winchester home opened with so much force it hit the doorstop with a bang, and Mary Winchester jumped where she was walking towards the kitchen.
Dean Winchester practically fell into the house, hauling both an overstuffed backpack and a heavy looking duffle bag with him. He almost tripped trying to get his shoes off as quickly as possible, and Mary put one hand on her hip.
"Robotics club went a bit late I take it?" she said pointedly.
Dean kicked his shoes roughly into line with the other shoes scattered in the entry way and said, "Yeah, it was a mess, I've got tons of homework, can't talk Ma, good night!"
She watched in only mild exasperation as he stumbled up the stairs as fast as he could. "You could've texted!" she called after him, but only rolled her eyes and continued into the kitchen without waiting for a reply.
Dean, safely in his room with the door locked, dropped his bags with a minimum of care for the delicate electrical parts they contained, and fell face down into his bed with a pained groan.
'A mess' was quite an understatement. But he wasn't totally ready to talk about this with his mother.
It wasn't like he thought she would be weird about it. And it wasn't that he was ashamed. It was just... well, while he hadn't had a specific person to apply it to, he could safely ignore it and pretend he wasn't in an underrepresented monitory that was widely discriminated against (Charlie's words). It was easier.
But then Cas had transferred to his school and forced him to confront his bisexuality in a much more definite way.
He was just so... God, Dean didn't know. He wasn't a poet. But Cas was nice, and funny in a quiet kinda way, and attractive, and really smart, and... Dean didn't know how to deal with it at all.
The only boy he'd ever had anything approaching romance with had been Benny, but they were really just bros, and Benny moving away last summer had put paid to any possibility of that changing.
This would be easier, he thought, if he knew whether Cas swung that way or not.
He pulled his pillow over his head and groaned loudly into his mattress again. He'd barely known the kid for a few months and he felt like his brain was gonna dribble out of his ears and his heart would beat out of his chest like he was a damn looney tunes character the next time he heard Cas's voice.
Today had been definite proof it was becoming a Problem. He'd talked Cas into going to robotics with him instead of his usual literature club, and subsequently spent the whole time flustered and maybe trying to show off a little, which then literally ended in flames. He knew he hadn't tested that catapult function enough but he'd wanted to show Cas anyways.
"Fuck," he said as feelingly as he could being muffled by his mattress.
He rolled over, but left the pillow over his face. He had to admit the only thing he could do about it (since waiting it out didn't seem likely to go very well for him) was to confront the problem head on. Well, confront Cas head on. Cas wasn't a problem. It was his problem. Or... oh, whatever.
Cas would probably know how to put it, the damn English nerd. But thinking that was really not helping him feel less nervous about this.
He could absolutely not set his school things on fire again though, so he'd just have to... tell him. Tomorrow.
God damn it.
The door to the Milton household opened soundlessly, and Castiel Milton's feet made no noise as he stepped onto the entry way carpet.
He slid his shoes off carefully and did his best to close the door as quietly as he'd opened it. It made only a slight click, but that was all it took - Gabriel swung around the corner like he'd been waiting there. He probably had actually.
"Home a little late aren't you?" Gabriel asked in his most stern voice.
"I went to robotics club with a friend and things got a little crazy. Is dad home yet?" Cas replied with as little inflection as possible. The trick with Gabriel was to not goad him at all.
Gabriel scoffed. "'Robotics club got crazy'. Cas, you are honestly the biggest nerd I've ever met. How are we related? It's a tragedy."
"Dad is working late. You still should've texted," Michael's voice called from the living room.
"Right. Well, I have homework," Cas said, and dodged around Gabe before he could react, hurrying up the stairs to his room.
He locked his door just in case, set his backpack by his desk, and sat down in his swivel chair. For a moment he just stared down at his closed laptop without really seeing it. Then he pulled his notebooks out of his bag, flipped open the top one.
The words on the page looked like gibberish.
He sat perfectly still for a moment more, then sighed forcefully and slumped down until his head rested on the notebook.
Today had been... confusing, mostly.
When he had first moved here, he'd been so grateful that the nice, attractive boy named Dean had befriended him so willingly. He was used to not making friends for ages, if ever, wherever his family ended up for a year or two.
Unfortunately, since friendship was so rare, crushes were even fewer and far between. Whenever he'd gotten one in the past, it was always easier to ignore it until they moved away. But Dean was... different.
It was a bigger crush than he was used to, for one. He had definitely never liked anyone as much as he liked Dean. But also, it had happened so quickly. And they weren't likely to move away for a while yet.
And, most importantly, he thought that just maybe, Dean might like him back.
He had never dared to imagine that a crush was reciprocated before. But Dean was so.. well, he was ridiculous, that's what he was. But he was always finding little excuses to touch him, and teasing him, but sweetly, and needling Cas into hanging out with him.
Still, he thought it had all been wishful thinking, that Dean was just really friendly, until today. Dean had told him about robotics club before, and it had sounded like an average high school club with electrical engineering jargon that went right over his head. But Dean had talked him into missing out on his lit club and going that afternoon, and he doubted what had happened was 'average'.
Dean had been... flustered, was his best guess. Or at least very distracted. But he had focused so much on making sure Cas was watching everything he did, and apparently not focused enough on what he was actually doing, and the fire had started...
Not that it was a big fire or anything. The alarms hadn't even gone off. But Dean had been so embarrassed, and hadn't said a word to Cas as he cleaned up, even after Cas said he had to go catch his ride.
The only logical explanation he could think of was that Dean had been trying to show off and it went very wrong. But what if that was just more wishful thinking?
Sighing heavily once more, he glanced at the clock, and realized he'd been doing nothing but sit there for twenty minutes already. That felt entirely ridiculous. He had to do... something about this. Most likely, he had to tell Dean how he felt.
That sounded like an honestly terrible idea. Normal teenagers don't feel like 'Your eyes are so warm when you look at me, it makes me feel like my blood is on fire'. Or, maybe they did, but they didn't just SAY that.
Sometimes being an English nerd was really terrible.
Dean spent the next day at school avoiding all the places he usually went to run into Cas between classes. If he saw him and didn't confess immediately, he was afraid he'd lose his nerve.
At lunch time, however, he knew he'd have enough time, and if he didn't do it then he never would.
He went to Cas's usual secluded lunch spot and sat waiting for him, lunch untouched. He hoped that wouldn't be too suspicious - all the butterflies were making him feel too nauseous to eat.
Cas rounded the corner and almost stopped short when he caught sight of Dean already there, but visibly forced himself to keep going.
"Hello, Dean," he said with forced casualness as he sat next to him on the bench.
"Hey, Cas," Dean replied, staring slightly over his shoulder.
Cas fiddled with his lunch bag without actually removing anything for a moment before saying, "I didn't think you were here today. I haven't seen you around."
Dean took a deep breath and gave himself a little mental slap. 'Don't be a damn coward,' he thought. 'Just look him in the eyes, and do it.'
Dean looked into Cas's eyes, and immediately turned to mush.
'Fuck, wrong, bad idea, abort mission, Jesus Christ,' he thought, feeling like deer in headlights.
Cas stared back into Dean's wide eyes, watching as his ears turned steadily from pink to bright red. He seemed incapable of speech, even though he'd just taken a breath like... like he had something very important to say.
As the silence stretched, Cas could only conclude that his suspicions were correct. Why else had Dean just exhaled so shakily? Why else couldn't either of them tear their eyes away?
He shushed the anxious part of his brain that insisted he was overlooking something, and took a deep breath of his own.
"Dean," he started, "I really hope I'm not misreading the situation." Which was so unromantic a thing to say he almost wished he'd gone the embarrassing poetry route, but he hoped his next move would make up for it.
Cas leaned forward and captured Dean's lips with his own.
Cas was putting firm pressure on Dean's lips with his own, but otherwise not moving them. Dean was definitely expecting the looney tunes heart thing to happen any second.
When it didn't, he decided he'd better start kissing back or Cas would think he had the wrong idea. And he definitely had the right idea.
The most perfect idea in history, Dean decided as he tilted his head a little more and felt Cas exhale against his face. He'd only pressed back a little bit when Cas pulled away again, blinking owlishly.
Dean could tell that his whole face was red now - damn his genes for making him a blusher - but Cas looked so dazed he only felt a small pang of embarrassment about it.
"Cas," he started, with no idea where he was going, "You're... you're probably the coolest person I know. Not literally because you're a huge nerd, but you know what I... Ah hell. Will-"
"Will you go out with me?" Cas blurted, eyes intense once more.
Dean felt himself going even redder, damn it all, but the increase in butterfly churning made it hard to concentrate on that.
"Yeah. Yes. Absolutely," he replied after a moment, still unable to look away from the other boy's eyes. "Uh, do you wanna go see a movie this weekend?"
Cas smiled, and Dean felt all the butterflies leave at once to be replaced with a pleasant weightless sensation.
"I'd like that, Dean."