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Dean Winchester and his younger brother Sam always moved schools. Their father's job required moving from town to town, not allowing the boys to settle down and make friends. Dean hated constantly being the new kid. He never made any real friends. Neither did Sam, but he was sociable enough to last at each school. Dean, on the other hand, was shy and quiet. Making friends was difficult for him, considering he'd rather be reading a book or on his laptop than going to school. Not only that, but he wasn't straight. He hadn't told his dad; God only knows what John would have done to Dean if he came out. He tried going to support groups at school, but couldn't speak in front of a large mass of people. However one day, when the Winchesters arrived at Kelsey Allen High School, things changed for Dean.
"Bye Dean!" Sam said to his brother, closing the car door as Dean turned off the engine of the black Chevy Impala.
"See ya, Sammy," Dean replied, as his little brother rolled his eyes and eagerly ran off to his class. He hated being called "Sammy." Dean shut the car door, and locked it.
He enjoyed learning, but every school was learning different things, so he really didn't learn much. He learned much more from the internet, which he'd rather be doing. He pushed his glasses up, looking at his schedule and school map and walked to his first class, Government. It didn't take long for him to find it, the school wasn't too big or complicated. As he walked through the door, heads turned for a moment then back to the teacher.
"Ah, hello. You must be Dean Winchester. I'm Mr. Harrell. Say hello, to your new student, class." A short, brown-haired man warmly said.
The class said a monotonous "hello" in unison.
"Before you sit, Mr. Winchester, I'd like to invite you to say a few things about yourself to the class." The brown-haired teacher said.
Dean sighed, but he complied and stood before the class. "Um, well, my name's Dean. I guess I like reading," he said nervously. One kid snickered and called him a nerd, and Mr. Harrell shit him a look, causing the student to apologize. Dean said no more and quickly went to his seat. He just knew he'd be ridiculed. He tried to stay quiet for the rest of the period.
"Pst, Dean," a punk kid, wearing ripped blue jeans and a black shirt with a vest complete with band-patches and studs, whispered as Harrell was teaching.
Dean looked up from his note paper to see the boy. He was cute as hell, he thought. He tried not to stare. "What?" He answered, trying not to be too loud and continued to take notes.
"You wanna go to lunch with me?" He asked.
Dean looked back up from his paper and nodded, smiling at the punk kid. He smiled back.
"Alright. That's all the notes for today." The teacher said, kids sighing in relief. Just then, the bell rang and everyone packed their binders and pencils up and went to their next class.
Dean looked at his schedule to see that his next class was AP Biology. He was exceptionally good in that field, so Dean would usually be excited for it, but he wanted it to be lunch already. He looked forward to getting to know that cute, punk kid. He had never made a friend on the first day, let alone one as cute the punk boy.
Biology went well for Dean, as it was just another period of taking notes. This time though, he didn't have to introduce himself.
The rest of the day went by rather quickly and before he knew it, it was lunchtime. He waited for the boy near the front office, it couldn't be hard to spot him in the crowd of students. He scanned the crowd and saw him. Dean grinned, eyes lighting up. He didn't even know the kid's name, but he felt as if they already had something special.
"Hey, man!" the boy spoke with a gruff, but mesmerizing voice.
"Hey," Dean called back, hands in his pocket.
"Ready?"
"Um, yeah."
"Good. Hope you're not actually hungry though. I just wanted to show you something." The boy smirked and grabbed Dean's hand. "C'mon!" He took Dean off campus.
"Where are we going, exactly?" Dean asked.
"My house, of course," the boy replied, leading him down the street. "It's just right up the road if you're worried about not getting back to school in time for class."
"But I don't even know you're name." Dean retorted.
"Name's Castiel. I know, it's from the fuckin' bible. Whatever though, it's unique like me, my mom always tells me."
Dean smiled. "I like it."
The rest of the walk was quiet. Dean wanted to break the silence, but didn't know what to say. He seemed to have this problem a lot.
It didn't take long for the two to arrive at Castiel's house. It was a white, average-sized house. No one seemed to be home, so the couple went inside. Dean was impressed; he had never seen such a nice house.
"So, what is it you wanted to show me?" Dean asked.
"You'll see," Castiel replied. "Just you wait."
Cas led Dean into his room, with a "fuck the system" and an anarchy symbol carved into the door. Dean wondered where this punk boy was going with all of this. He went along with it anyway. The two went inside the room. His bedroom clearly hadn't been cleaned in quite some time, with posters covering the off-white walls. The bed was unkempt with presumably dirty laundry and school books.
"You wanted to show me your room?"
"No, you fuckhead. Just c'mere."
Dean brought his face closer to Castiel's, his breath heavy with anticipation. Without thought, Castiel brought his lips to meet Dean's. Dean closed his eyes and responded equally. He kissed him again and again, each kiss more intense than the last. Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean and pulled him against him. Castiel's heart raced wildly as he felt Dean press against him. Time was lost until Castiel heard his mother come home.
"Castiel, I'm home!" She called as she set her keys onto the table.