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He’d danced with her all night. She clung to him song after song. Who knew a someone this pretty could be this sweaty. If Cas were here he’d smile pretending to be half amused at that. But he wasn’t. Well he was here. He just wasn’t here. In his arms while Taylor Swift sings about her various love affairs. No, Cas was standing awkwardly behind the punch and trail mix darting his eyes around anxiously. He mused, or maybe even hoped that his eyes were searching for him in this crowd of sweaty teenagers dressed to the nines in the Lawrence High gym but something about the way his eyes shifted told him Cas wasn’t looking for anything. He was avoiding something. It wasn’t a slow dance but Lisa was still leaning her breast against his chest like she had had one too many vodka tonics. Unfortunately they were both very much sober. Why had Cas come? Did he think he was somehow gonna grow some balls and be good enough for him? Take his hand and dance with him in front of everyone he’s ever known, all he’s ever known.
“Are you okay?” Lisa asked, leaning back for the first time in 45 minutes. Oh so that’s what his body felt like by itself. She looked at him with real concern and he realized he had stopped dancing. She had felt his heart beat in his chest. Her hair had fallen a little since he picked her up, her make-up had smeared a little but Jesus she was cute. Her smile was really what made her a knock out, not that the rest of her wasn’t amazing either. And she wasn’t even annoying. He sort of wished she was annoying. So that when he found her tedious he could at least blame it on her personality.
“Sorry – I uh – gotta take a leak” he muttered, trying his best to slowly peal himself the rest of the way off in a way that made it seem like he just needed to pee. The bathroom was just off the gym and when he walked into the dark of the locker room to get to it. He found himself taking a seat where his football locker is. 83. It held no significance to him and yet it held every significance for him. He was not a number on a locker in a room and yet when people asked him what he did, who he was his answer was football. Fucking football. He could still hear the music, though now it was a slow dance, sounded sad. He was glad he wasn’t in there though he was still haunted by the echo of it as it filled the locker room. Through the silence he heard the click of shoes and anxiety pooled in his stomach. He didn’t want anyone to see him like this, whatever this is; some random guy passing through to the bathroom or worse Lisa growing impatient. They grew louder and then fell silent. Dean’s stomach lunged and he collected himself.
“You’re missing the dance” Dean’s eyes shut.
Cas
His heart soared in that way that demanded to be felt. He turned around on the bench to see Cas standing just outside the little section of lockers in his little black suit with his little black tie just like always. His hair was ruffled in an uncombed mess just like always. And his blue eyes were piercing a hole right through his soul just like always. In fact he wasn’t sure Cas has changed his outfit at all for the occasion. Dean smirked but it ended up falling away when Cas’ eyes flickered to his lips for a fraction of a second, lips falling open slightly as his eyes found their way to his again.
Dean stood, faking the composure he wished he felt, “It wasn’t much fun” without you, he finished wordlessly.
“I believe that was your argument against going in the first place” Cas retorted pointedly.
“And yet here we both are” Dean remarked, looking straight into his eyes.
“And yet here we both are” Cas repeated, eyes searching the dusty old locker room.
“They’re playing our song” Dean remarked with a smile as if taking a step towards him wasn’t murdering his heart. Cas’ head tilted minutely as his brow furrowed. “what?” Dean laughed, closing the gap between them. Okay maybe he did it for that face.
“I’ve heard you make fun of this song on more than one occasion – I thought with your snobbery for music you’d have made a very different selection” Dean rolled his eyes and laughed – trying to hide the nervous trimmer that ran through it.
“It’s a joke Cas – E.T. – no one gets you – alien speak. Come on dude, meet me halfway here” Cas seemed perturbed by that as he listened to the lyrics probably for the first time and Dean blushed. He hadn’t meant for this to become some ordeal. And the more Cas listened the more nervous Dean got. He handled chicks like a pro. He was sure fingered Winchester – best quarterback Lawrence has seen since his father for Christ sake he should not be shaking. But he was. The song ended thank God. But was replaced by something infinitely more terrifying; Pearl Jam.
A ghost of a smile danced across Cas’ lips as he met Dean eyes unwavering and held out his hand.
“Cas” Dean breathed. Mostly it came out tired; because he was tired. Tired of pretending he was something he was not. Tired of not knowing what he was without pretending. Tired of being scared. Tired of watching Cas’ face fall when he let him down. Because that’s what he does.
Cas took a hesitant step forward, “Be unafraid” Cas breathed, an edge of desperation bubbling deep below the surface, his reserved clearly wavering. This was probably all he’d been thinking about for days, and Dean was ruining it.
Nothing you would take. Everything you gave.
Dean took his hand and was surprised when Cas pulled him along behind him and soon they were running.
“Where are we going” Dean called in a harsh whisper as Cas pushed open the doors to the football field. “Cas!” but he could not be stopped. They stopped when Cas could see stars. The gym was on the other side of the wall where they now stood. He could hear, if anything, the music more clearly now. Cas pulled him in and Dean let himself be pulled, his eyes quickly scanning the area as he went. Cas wrapped his arm half awkwardly around his waist and Dean had no idea where to put his other hand now that Cas had rested his other hand firmly on his left shoulder, letting his arm be bent to rest on his bicep as Dean leaned into him. He ended up wrapping one arm around the swell of Cas back, and bringing the other around him to grip at the shoulder of Cas’ coat. He rested his chin softly on the tips of his own fingers as they swayed. There was no one around, of course. No one to be around, no door from the dance to here and yet Dean’s nerves skyrocketed from the danger of being outside. It was probably why Cas picked it. It felt open. Dangerous and intimate and yet they were so close. To everyone Dean knew. To the football field that, through everything, he still deeply loved. Two songs went by like this. He didn’t even notice the song changed until it changed again and the DJ came on and announced it was the last dance. Cas’ head was resting on his and when he pulled away Cas jerked like he’d be woken from a dream.
“Shit Cas I’ve been out here for thirty minutes Lisa’s gonna have a cow” Dean was already untangling their limbs as he spoke but as soon as the words came out of his mouth he was momentarily halted by the pure look of hurt in Cas’ eyes. “oh come on, you know I didn’t mean that I – Cas I came wi –” he could feel it all come out wrong so he surged and held Cas face, forcing his downtrodden eyes to meet his “shit Cas – you know I’d rather be here” the words breeze out of his lips and Cas’ eyes shoot up to meet his and just like that he’s pulling him by the lapels of his jacket and their lips are meeting. Dean gasps, both from the shock on being pulled in and the flare of his stomach when his lips brushed Cas’ chapped ones. It was like coming home and discovering himself for the first time. He had never experienced this kind of intensity before and the fact that Cas had no idea what he was doing somehow just made it hotter. He gripped at him like he was dying of thirst and Dean was the last glass of water and it just spurred him on more and more to feel Cas lose it. They broke part and came together more times than either could count. Dean’s hands had abandoned Cas face and were now gripping at fabric limply as Cas sucked on his bottom lip. How does someone even know how to do that? He seriously questioned Cas’ piety given the porno-esque tricks he was attempting. And when he says attempting he means succeeding. Clumsy and hesitant as they may be the emotion and pure desperation behind their maneuvering made them hot has fuck. When Cas shifted to his neck he almost lost it right then and there.
“Jesus Cas” Dean gasped as Cas backed him up against the wall of the gym.
“Dean” Cas warned. Blasphemy. Right.
“Right sorry” he mumbled apparently losing cognitive ability along with his pants in this interaction as Cas pushed his leg in between his thighs and it’s all he can do but to rub himself against it as he’s propped up against him.
“Fuck” he breathed, trying to hold on as Cas met his mouth again and again like he was going to disappear at any moment and he wanted to go between looking at him and kissing him as much as humanly possible. “C-Cas” he tried to interjected but Cas only moved to the side of his mouth, his chin, jaw and back down to the sensitive part of his neck.
“You’re so beautiful” Cas said in such soft earnest that it actually choked Dean up for a moment. Dean moved his hands down Cas’ torso to his hips to try to brace himself – get Cas to slow down but then Cas realized he had hands that could touch and Dean was a gonner. He looked down at Dean, leaning breathless up against the hall and his hands roamed over lightly over his chest as his eyes took him in like a miracle, in awe of him, if Dean dared to think such a thing.
“Cas the dance is over man– I–” he stuttered at his point because though Cas had not leaned back in his hand had drifted dangerously close to his groin and Dean was finding it hard to breathe. Not that Cas noticed, he was not trained on Dean’s eyes.
“I-gotta take L-Lisa home – she’s gonna come looking for me soon” Cas nodded, stepped away from the wall and taking Dean’s crutch with him. He found it a bit harder than he thought it would be to stand on his own for a moment but slowly straightened himself out, Cas doing the same. Though he thought Cas’ may have been more out of force of habit.
“Go” he said without malice – though a little breathless if he allowed himself.
“Do you – um – do you have like a ride home or something?” he asked stupidly, he was babbling to be honest.
“My – my brother Michael” Cas said, as if he momentarily forgot. Dean thought bitterly that maybe Cas thought Dean would be taking him home.
“I gotta –” Dean motioned, but didn’t move an inch.
“Yes of course” Cas said, overly polite per usual. Dean moved to go but hesitated.
“Cas I–” his hand twitched from the strain of not reaching out and touching “I gotta go. I’ll uh – see you tomorrow, same time?” he finished, hating the uncertainty in his voice.
“Yes of course” Cas repeated, his cheeks flush – his eyes only darting up between long glances at the ground. Dean wanted to say something, anything but his feet turn to go and he runs. He runs back into the emptying gym before he never leaves that spot ever again. Fuck, Dean thought, Fuck.