Chapter Text
One chilly October Saturday afternoon, seventeen year old Dean makes his way to a restaurant under the palette of browning fall leaves. There, he is served by a dark haired boy with sky blue eyes, who's name tag says, Castiel.
Castiel is gorgeous, and he flushes when Dean calls him 'Cas', fiddling with his pad of paper while he takes Dean's order, which is just a root beer float.
Cas is so bewitched by Dean, their eyes meeting each time Cas steps out of the kitchen, blue and green.
Several minutes later, when Cas brings Dean his root beer float, Dean thanks him with a wink. Cas, unprepared and flustered, accidentally spills Dean's root beer float he ordered onto Dean's lap.
"I-I apologize..." Cas rambles in mortification, his cheeks burning a bright pink as he wipes away the brown liquid and clumps of ice cream with a white rag off the table.
"It's fine." Dean laughed, patting himself dry with napkins.
Cas expected to never see Dean again, and although a part of him hoped he never would from his embarrassment, he still longed to see those apple green eyes again.
Much to Cas' surprise and chagrin, Dean came back the next afternoon, then the next, then the next.
Dean became a regular sight to see, ordering just a root beer float every time, sitting in the same booth so he'd be sure to get served by Cas, and Cas grew to look forward to their talks everyday. Sometimes, when things were slow, he would sit with Dean, laughing and learning little things about him, such as they went to the same school and Dean really liked cherry pie and had a little brother named Sam.
And sometimes, Dean would even reach across the table to touch his hand, and Cas' skin would tingle every time, and Dean's heart would always skip at the spark in Cas' eyes in response, although he would never tell him that.
A month later, Cas decided to take things into his own hands, fumbling with the edge of his red work shirt, staring down at his shoes.
"How does dinner with me here tonight at seven sound?" Cas asks shyly, a small smile and blush on his cheeks, lifting his eyes to meet green ones.
"That's fine." Dean agrees, and though he'd never admit it, he's blushing too.
A couple dinners and root beer floats later, Dean takes the next step.
"So, is it fine if I call you my boyfriend?" He grins coyly at Cas, who blushes, his hand warm and a bit clammy over Dean's.
"Of course Dean."
Dean sealed their relationship with a soft kiss that sent Cas' cheeks a flaming red, which Dean thought was the cutest thing.
Though he'd never admit that.
A few months together turn into years, and they graduate high school, still completely inseparable.
Cas' long nights of studies to follow his dream of becoming a veterinarian paid off with a full ride to college, while Dean talked about opening up his own garage to restore classic cars and going to a mechanic's school.
"We'll have to go to different colleges," Dean muses as they look over the college Cas got accepted into, scrolling through pictures on Dean's laptop.
"We'll stay together, won't we Dean?" Cas says worriedly, gazing at Dean, his grip on his arm tightening slightly.
Dean looks over at Cas away from the computer, smiling warmly and kissing him softly.
"We'll be just fine."
"You promise?" Cas whispers against Dean's lips, and Dean trails his hand under his AC/DC hoodie that Cas is wearing, letting his fingers caress his skin gently.
"I promise."
Dean puts aside the root beer him and Cas were sharing, intent on making Cas forget that their time together was fleeting.
Even if just for a night.
Two weeks later, they each go to their separate colleges after a tearful goodbye, though Dean claimed he wasn't crying and that something was in his eye. Cas knew better, though he'd never call Dean out on it; he didn't need to.
Cas flew to New York, while Dean drove to California a few days later, both arriving safely.
They called each other every single night, each looking forward to hear the other's voice after a long day.
Cas said his school was nice, studies hard, but worthwhile. Dean would tell Cas about the new engine part he learned how to make, Cas attentive and thoughtful even though he 'didn't know the oil from the gas', as Dean would say.
Cas spent quite a bit of time writing Dean love letters in his free time, sometimes pages long. Some were so full of ardent adoration, it would bring tears to Dean's eyes, while others were so amorously titillating, Dean would be left hot and vexed, a heat only Cas could sate.
Video chats could only douse the flame to a simmer, but nothing could kill the fire that green and blue eyes longed for. Whenever Cas asked what Dean did with his letters on the phone, Dean would roll his eyes and claim he threw them away, but in reality, he always kept them in a bundle with the rest of the letters under his bed, each and every single one, though he never told Cas that, but Cas knew Dean like the back of his own hand. He played along with Dean's gibes and scoffs, but he knew that Dean never threw the letters away and that he loved each and every one. He knew Dean was as soft as a woman, and though he'd never admit it and would always scoff and wave off romantic remarks, Cas knew.
Cas loved that he was the only one that knew that side of Dean, and although Dean would never tell Cas, he loved the things Cas did for him.
Winter came, and the time apart grew longer, and neither of them had the money to fly to see each other for Christmas like they had been talking about doing for weeks, since they hadn't seen each other since they both left for college.
"We'll see each other during spring break, right Dean?" Cas silently cried on the phone, curled in a ball on his bed, smelling the fading scent of Dean on his AC/DC hoodie he had packed away with him.
"Yes."
"How are you Dean?"
"I'm fine," Dean said shortly, and Cas swallows thickly at the loud party music sounds in the background. "I gotta go Cas."
"Okay, I love-" Dean hangs up, and Cas stares woefully at his phone, not liking the dark sinking of his stomach.
Dean had promised they would talk that night, since he was busy yesterday night, doing what, he hadn't said.
The promises to talk the next day continue, now from both parties, and calls stop becoming as long, neither wanting to talk to the other and hear the excuses; feel the pain of the lies.
Eventually, they stop calling everyday, because every time they call now, there is always a fight, but what is worse, is the quiet, 'how are you' calls, because they both remember how they used to talk.
Dean remembers the letters Cas used to send him, but stopped sending weeks ago, and Cas remembers the long speeches that Dean would give of his tribulations at school.
March comes, and they don't fly to see each other for spring break.
School ends, and neither calls the other to congratulate the other for graduating.
Dean makes strides to opening his dream garage, and buying a new phone, not bothering to put Cas' number in his new phone.
What was the point? They don't even talk anymore.
Cas studies over the summer in preparation for his second year at school, thinking of Dean often, and wondering how Dean's old AC/DC hoodie had gotten lost during his move into his own apartment over the last two months.
Two years pass, summer rolls in again, and Dean gets a call.
He didn't even know the number, and was trying to remember who'd he'd given his number to throughout the course of that day, but came up empty.
"Hello?" He says warily as he answers the phone.
"Dean?" It was Cas.
"Cas.." Dean rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, kicking up dust as he walks. "Been awhile."
"Yeah."
Dean kicks a rock into the pond he's passing by, taking a sip of his root beer.
"How'd you uh, get my number?" Dean queries, having just bought his fourth phone after his last one got smashed by his motorcycle falling over.
"I asked your assistant, Meg. Congratulations on opening your garage Dean."
"Thanks," Dean smiles a little, proudly thinking back to the day he first opened his doors for business a few months ago. "What about you? You patching up some animals?"
"Yes, I'm one of the top vets at my clinic."
"That's awesome Cas."
"Thank you."
There is is.
That awkward silence, and Dean is reminded of how he used to talk to Cas, how everyday he couldn't wait to tell him about something new he'd learned, or the way they wouldn't sleep some nights from their shared insatiable lusts.
Where had it all gone?
"Dean-" Cas says, but trails off.
"What," Dean says shortly, shoving the memories away.
"I just wanted to know.. If you're okay."
Dean is silent, and he looks at the setting sun, the bright pastel colors, the watered down, mirrored reflection of it in the pond he's standing on the shore of. He can faintly hear Cas breathing through the phone, can almost feel Cas' heart slowing as he waits for his reply.
Dean knows Cas isn't asking about his well being, but he doesn't care.
He hasn't cared for awhile.
"I'm fine."