Chapter Text
Castiel’s POV:
⋆.˚♬ I want it to be, like, messy! ♬⋆.˚
⋆.˚♬ DA-DUM-DA-DUM-!!! ♬⋆.˚
Loud punk rock music from Olivia Rodrigo’s song Brutal, startled the college kid out of his slumber. It was so loud, he thought he had fallen asleep in front of a freight train. He jumped up from drooling face down on the pillow and slipped off his bed, crashing ungracefully into the wooden floor, making him loudly groan. His hand reached up, patting for his black framed glasses on his side table, but found they weren’t where he thought he left them. He gave up when he turned, glaring towards his bedroom door, the smell of burning bacon welcoming him.
Out of all the fucking people he could give his spare key to, it was HIM?!
He was going to KILL him.
“Dean. ” He snarled, forcing himself up and storming down the house’s hall.
⋆.˚♬ I'm so insecure, I think, that I'll die before I drink! ♬⋆.˚
“Dean!” he called again, his voice rising in volume as his eyes scanned the kitchen. "DE—oh." His gaze landed on the bare, muscular back of his childhood best friend, Dean Winchester, who was focused on cooking bacon at the stove, happily making himself at home within Castiel’s home. His eyes lingered a bit too long to be casual, but he wasn’t caught yet. So…he allowed himself to look.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Dean Lawrence Winchester has been his best friend since second grade, when Castiel lost everything after a house fire. Their lives were chaotic as they tried to figure everything out. He was living temporarily with his grandparents, with his family sleeping on the floor of their living room. He had to move schools to be closer to his grandparents' house, and he ended up in Dean’s school.
You would think losing everything would be a traumatizing memory, even if it did happen while they were away on vacation.
However, it never was for him, all because a little boy sat next to him on the playground, shuffling Pokémon cards like they were playing cards.
His life changed forever when he was told to pick a card.
Intrigued, Castiel pulled a Snorlax.
The boy smiled and said Snorlax was his favorite, so they had to be best friends.
Little did Castiel know…he only collected Snorlaxs.
Any card he would have picked would have sealed his fate to that freckled little boy with the missing front tooth.
The red string of fate was hog-tied onto him by the starlight, bright-eyed boy.
A romantic would have said it was fate.
Dean picked him out of everyone and everything in that park.
Thinking back on it now, Castiel would say maybe it was.
The right place.
The right time.
The right two boys.
Dean’s green eyes met his as he tilted his head over his shoulder, giving him the biggest smile.
“Rise and shine, Cassie!” Dean spoke, taking a bite of the bacon already cooled on the table.
His voice seemed to knock him out of his trance. He fidgeted uncomfortably, opening and closing his fist, trying to snap out of it as Dean went back to focusing on the food.
“Come eat it while it’s hot!” Dean called, before he mumbled. “Made your favorite.”
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
If it wasn’t obvious…
Castiel might actually… well , be in love with him.
An unfortunate new update and predicament he found himself in.
Don’t feel bad for him.
He did this all to himself.
So he’s going to wallow in it.
Ba-dump.
Ba-dump.
Castiel shook his head, getting out of his head before he continued to angrily storm over to the stereo and hit the off button.
⋆.˚♬ And I'm so sick of 17, where's my fucking teenage dream—?! ♬⋆.˚
“What the fuck, Dean?” Castiel scoffed, throwing his hands up in the air. Dean, who had helped himself to some coffee, took a second to eye Castiel’s boxers and overlarge T-shirt, his eyes lingering a bit too long on the dinosaur boxers. Dean reached out lightly to hold them, studying the design in better detail.
“Cute,” Dean mumbled to himself, but Castiel quickly swatted his hand away and crossed his arms, leaning on his hip. Dean’s eyes moved from studying his appearance to focus on the music. “That’s what I said,” Dean grumbled, clearing his throat and gesturing vaguely to the music. “I just loaded what you had on. Where’s Metallica? Kansas? Where’s the real music?” Castiel raised an eyebrow, looking even more annoyed.
Dean ran a hand through his disheveled hair, a tell-tale sign of his late night. Castiel's gaze instinctively flickered away from the hickeys visible on Dean's neck.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it,” Castiel spat, annoyed.
Great.
He was irritated now, and he was taking it out on Dean.
Stop, Castiel.
You can’t be.
This is the bed YOU made.
Dean licked his lips before rubbing them together. He slowly batted his eyes at Castiel, giving him little, cute puppy dog eyes as he offered him a peace offering of bacon. Castiel sighed, unable to deny his puppy dog pout, and took the bacon, leaning against the half wall and quietly eating.
“You can’t just break into my apartment, blare my music, and eat my food,” Castiel mumbled. He tried to sound irritated, but his resolve had faded.
“I have a key so…” Dean retorted and held out a plate of food to Castiel, who took it, looking down at the Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes. “Technically not breaking in.”
“Is this—?” Castiel lit up. Dean turned, grabbing whipped cream and drawing eyes and a nose with a bacon smile onto the pancake.
“Chocolate chip, with whipped cream and…” Dean turned and grabbed sprinkles from the counter, sprinkling them onto the pancakes before he just smiled at Castiel. “Sprinkles.” Castiel blushed, slowly turning to eat at the table. Dean came over, giving him some coffee before he took a seat next to him, eating just plain pancakes with butter and syrup.
Dean knew exactly how he liked his pancakes.
He actually knew everything about Castiel.
Except that he loved him.
“Did you even go home last night?” Castiel mumbled.
“No, why would I?” Dean asked, like it was silly.
“You live there?” He retorted.
“I would live here, if you’d let me,” Dean commented, making Castiel pause. “Come on, think about it. I won’t have to live with my dad, and you get home-cooked breakfast every morning. I can’t afford much, but I’ll make up for it, I swear.”
Castiel’s eyes moved to Dean’s neck again before quickly moving away.
“Dean...I just think it’s better we have some space while we start off our college lives.” Castiel’s lie rolled off the tongue so easily, he almost started to believe it. The lie he gave time and time again. He knew he was pushing Dean away…but he couldn’t stomach the idea of Dean bringing people home. His jealousy made him sick, but what else could he do? “Come into our own, you know?”
“I just don’t understand why we can’t come into our own together,” Dean mumbled, but he didn’t fight it as he took a bite of his pancakes.
Dean felt like he was being punished…but in reality, it was Castiel.
Castiel’s eyes lingered on him, taking in the bright reddish purple hickie on his neck. Though he wasn’t completely marked up, there were obvious signs of Dean’s sex life. He hated the anger and jealousy that always seemed to bubble in his gut for a life he could never have.
“Whose house were you at last night?” Castiel asked curiously.
“Benny Lafitte’s.” Dean chewed lazily.
No.
This wasn't a love story where Castiel was in love with his straight best friend, who rejected him, and now he has to live with it.
“From English?” Castiel asked as Dean nodded. He wiped his mouth with a napkin, nodding before taking a sip.
“We’re partners, remember?” Dean stated simply. “We were doing our group assignment, and you know .” He shrugged. “One thing led to another.”
Dean played for any team.
He dated the girls, the theys, and the gays.
He went with the vibes, and normally those vibes left him waking up in a stranger's bed.
Though he wasn’t a revolving door, he did tend to sleep with the same couple of people he trusted casually, since it was easier to keep track for safe sex.
Always joked he was looking to get a little something…just not an STD.
He respected him for it.
Dean knew what he wanted and went for it.
…At one point, what Dean had wanted…was Castiel.
Unfortunately, this story was one of those stories where Dean Winchester falls in love with his straight best friend, and Castiel lives to be the one to regret it.
They were fourteen when Dean first confessed.
Castiel had asked if he was planning to go to the Sadie Hawkins dance while trading their candy from Halloween.
It would have been their first dance as freshmen.
Dean kept saying no, but Castiel knew he had been asked by a couple of girls, so he pried till Dean finally relented.
“I’m not going because it’s girls asking the boys, you know? I’m waiting till prom so I can actually…ask you.” Dean shyly shrugged, unable to look at him.
Castiel remembered how quiet it got, how Castiel quickly blubbered.
“O-Oh, I-I’m actually not…” His eyes met Dean as he pulled at his sweater shyly, not continuing.
He remembered the disappointment on Dean’s face, but Dean was a good sport about it. Apologized and they both laughed the awkwardness off, ending the night with Dean confessing that maybe he was bisexual. With Castiel’s full-hearted support as an ally, he hugged him.
If only that was the ONLY time he rejected him.
Dean tried one more time at sixteen, when they got drunk at their first block party.
They sat in one of the spare bedrooms, quietly tipsy and enjoying a bit of weed.
Castiel made eye contact with Dean for what felt like forever when Dean leaned in, cupped his face, and tenderly kissed him.
He could still feel the rings on his fingers, cold against his cheek.
He wished now that the kiss wasn’t a second long before Castiel yanked back, upset.
…That one caused a fight.
They didn’t speak for months after that.
Only having to come together during Dean’s brother Sam’s birthday party.
Castiel had to go; he couldn’t upset Sam.
So they eventually ended up talking.
Dean apologized, said he would never do it again, and that he would never think about him that way again.
He was drunk and high.
And if Dean was sober, that two-second loving pure kiss wouldn’t have escaped him.
Castiel agreed to forgive him.
Which he thought was what he wanted…
But now, at twenty-one…
His eyes met Dean’s, who smiled when their eyes met.
He fucking realized he loved him.
Castiel could kick himself for it.
It wasn’t anything Dean did.
During class, Castiel sprinted to the parking lot. He had forgotten something in his car and needed to retrieve it quickly, before the teacher, who was habitually fifteen minutes late, arrived and locked the door with the excuse that 'you shouldn’t be late to their class'. He heard Dean’s laughter outside the school building, his eyes falling on Dean pressing the girl he only knew as Lisa against the side of the school. Quietly whispered and made out during Dean’s free period after most likely hooking up or about to….
It shouldn’t have meant anything to him.
There was something about seeing Dean kissing her…
It was the same way he had kissed Castiel all those years ago.
Ain’t that some shit?
THAT’S when he realizes?!
Yeah.
So now, he just suffers in silence.
Castiel paused when he noticed the time, making a noise with his mouth full that sounded like a moan.
“Mmm, mate!” Castiel cursed, shoveling the food in his mouth like a hamster. “Mave you smee my mlas-” Dean quietly held out a pair of cleaned glasses, neatly folded and cared for. Which meant Dean most likely pulled them from wherever he left them and gave them some love and care. Castiel moaned, happily taking the glasses as he put them on before bolting towards his room. He dressed quickly in whatever smelled clean from his clean clothes pile. Grabbed his bag and headed towards the door. “Are you staying?”
“Yeah. I wanted to shower and get cleaned up before class.” Dean started drinking some coffee. “In payment for letting me stay till class, I’ll clean your house for your courtesy.”
Though he necessarily didn’t ask, Dean kept a small bit of personal stuff in his spare for pit stops like this.
“You really hate going home, don’t you?” Castiel commented as Dean wiggled his eyebrows in acknowledgement, making his answer obvious, annoyed, tightening his jaw. “Why?”
“Just do,” Dean stated dismissively. Castiel shook his head with a loving sigh. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“You have to go home sometime, Dean.” Castiel hummed, walking away. “Lock up when you leave. You have a home you live rent free in, why don’t you enjoy it?”
“I’ll cook you dinner?” Dean offered, still trying.
“Go. Home.” Castiel retorted playfully, leaving Dean pouting alone. “Say hi to your dad for me.” He waved, closing the door behind him.
_________________________________________________________________________________
Later that night:
⋆.˚♬ DA-DUM-DA-DUM!!! ♬⋆.˚
⋆.˚♬ —All I did was try my best! This the kind of thanks I get?!♬⋆.˚
Castiel jolted at the loud music, making him wipe his face mid-drool. He glanced up, expecting the sun to be spilling in from the curtains, but…it was pitched black outside. He grabbed for his alarm clock, yanking it to him.
⋆.˚♬ Unrelentlessly upset (ah, ah, ah)! ♬⋆.˚
What the fuck.
It was three AM.
⋆.˚♬ They say these are the golden years! ♬⋆.˚
He could hear the sound of bacon having been cooked, which made him realize it wasn’t a burglar.
The witching hour, his ass.
It was the Dean's hour.
⋆.˚♬ But I wish I could disappear! ♬⋆.˚
He yanked off his bed sheets, storming off to the living room where he saw Dean pacing in his living room just chewing on bacon and humming to the song. He was shirtless, facing him as he paced side to side, almost erratically.
⋆.˚♬ Ego crush is so severe! ♬⋆.˚
Was he drunk?
⋆.˚♬ God, it's brutal out here—! ♬⋆.˚
“What the fuck, Dean?!” He moved to his speaker, turning it off roughly. Despite the song cutting off, Dean kept chewing, rolling his wrist as though ushering the song to continue. “It’s THREE in the morning!” Castiel spat at Dean, who seemed to be in his own little world. His eyes slid over his form. He was shoeless, his feet covered in mud, which he trailed as he walked. His pants seemed dirty, caked with mud and something else he couldn’t make out. Castiel’s eyes fell onto what looked like wiped-up dried-up blood, making his anger deteriorate.
“I-I think I like this song,” Dean mumbled. “I-I didn’t know why you liked it.” He chewed on the last of his bacon. “B-But I-I-I’m starting to get it.” He nodded to himself.
He seemed so out of it.
Like his mind was racing.
“...Dean, are you okay?” He reached for Dean, tenderly touching his muscular arm, but he yanked away as though he burned. His eyes moved around the room as though he was unable to sit still.
“I-I um.” Dean paused. He swallowed, trying to either understand it himself or just figure it out. “I-I think.” He continued to rotate his hand as though trying to get himself to spit out the words. “I-I think.” He turned to Castiel, looking him in the eyes for the first time that night. Tears welled up in his eyes as he choked out a laugh of disbelief. “I-I think I died…?”
He didn’t continue as Castiel’s eyes searched his.
“Dean, you aren’t dead—” He tried to touch him, but Dean yanked away again. Castiel got the hint, slowly lowering his hand. “What happened?”
“I-I…There was a girl who’s been interested in me.” Dean breathed. “E-...Everyone else was busy tonight. I-I…I-I didn’t…” He choked again; he was shaking. “...I-I didn’t want to go home. I-I just didn’t want to go home.”
“Dean?” Castiel whispered tears in his eyes. “What did she do to you?”
“S-She hurt me r-really bad.” Dean moved to hold himself, looking panicked. “S-She ripped my chest open.” He shook, his eyes moving side to side frantically. “Sh-She wouldn’t s-stop hurting me, t-then she just buried me in some god damn field—” Castiel’s eyes took in his body. There were no signs of cuts or bruises besides him looking a little more ripped than usual, with the dirt he assumed highlighting his abs. He was fine.
“D-Dean…” Castiel breathed. “Y-You might have been drugged—”
“I’M NOT MAKING THIS UP!” Dean winced, hissing as Castiel reached out to comfort him. When Dean turned away, Castiel saw a horrific, large wound on his back shoulder.
“Oh my god. Your back!” He moved closer to inspect the wound.
It was a bite mark, unmistakably so, but…there was something off about it. While the overall shape and spacing of the teeth seemed human at first glance, a closer look revealed why Castiel felt uneasy. The individual tooth marks were elongated, almost like a wild animal's fangs, and disturbingly sharp, far exceeding typical human teeth. The skin around the bite was a sickly purplish-red, and the edges of the wounds were jagged and torn, not clean as one would expect from a standard bite. It looked like something primal… something with an unnatural set of jaws had clamped down with horrifying force.
He lightly touched the skin near the wound, taking in the side, but when he pushed a bit too hard. Black, almost purple pus seemed to spill from the wound along with blood. Dean winced, yanking away and moving from his touch.
“Were you bitten by an animal?” Castiel whispered.
“SHE did that!” Dean snapped, grabbing his face in frustration. Castiel paused for a second, rubbing his eyes. God, he must be tired...for a second there, he swore his eyes glowed amber.
“Okay,” Castiel breathed, realizing this was a lot for Dean. He moved to the living room, grabbed a blanket, and slid it around Dean’s shoulders, which made Dean melt into it. “Come on, Dean. Let’s put a bandage on it, and we can deal with this tomorrow, okay?”
“I-I don’t want to g-go home,” Dean sobbed, wiping at the tears that started to fall.
“You’ll sleep with me,” Castiel stated. “Come on.” Dean weakly relented, allowing Castiel to lead him into the room.