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"I love you, Dean," Castiel said, letting his lips travel down his boyfriend's jaw lovingly. The after-sex haze still clouded their minds, bringing a comfortable calmness down on both of them.
"I love you, too," Dean responded, smiling, and pulled Castiel closer, their naked bodies fitting against each other perfectly. He received a soft kiss to his cheek before Castiel let his lips continue exploring Dean's still sweat-covered body.
Dean closed his eyes.
Castiel and him had been together for almost two months now, after having been best friends for about three years. It had taken them a long time of mutual pining to realize that they both felt the same about the other. It was all thanks to Castiel though that they'd gotten together, him being the one to finally take matters in his own hands. He'd kissed Dean after their school dance, which they'd officially gone to as friends. Both of them had hoped for a lot more than that though and they'd gotten exactly that.
Since that night, Dean and Castiel had been in a secret relationship, not yet wanting anybody to know about them. That was mostly due to Dean's father being a rather homophobic dick, having the pair decide to tell as few people as possible -preferably none- to make sure John didn't find out.
Until now, no one except the two knew.
Of course, keeping it all to themselves was frustrating, but since they met at each other's house almost every day, it was manageable. They'd seen each other just as often when they'd still been only friends, so it didn't raise any suspicions.
Seeing each other a lot though didn't change the fact that keeping their relationship secret was difficult and, honestly, nerve-wrecking. There'd been a few times they'd almost been caught making out in Dean's room and the initial shock still sat deep in their bones.
"We should get dressed," Dean forced out, not really wanting to destroy the quiet peacefulness of the moment. But it was necessary. "Dad's home and he might come to check on us soon. Clothes would be helpful."
Castiel sighed regretfully, slowly pushing himself up. He knew Dean was right but that didn't change the dampening effect it had on his mood. He slipped off the bed, quietly gathering Dean's and his stuff from the floor. He put it on the bed for Dean to easily reach it and before long, they were both dressed and ready.
"C'mere," Dean said, sensing Castiel's change of mood, and opened his arms for him. Reluctantly, Castiel gave in. Lying in Dean's arms was a thing he'd never get tired of, no matter how upset he felt.
"I promise I'll tell him soon," Dean mumbled into his ear, sounding determined, but Castiel could still hear the fear in his voice.
"No," Castiel interrupted before Dean could say more. "It's better if he doesn't know. We can't be sure of how he'd react and I don't want you getting hurt..." he added quietly and looked up into Dean's eyes. "I'm okay with keeping it a secret, really, I just... I'd like to show you off, you know? But if it keeps you safe, I'll manage without that."
Dean's gaze softened while looking down at his lover. The butterflies were still there, even after two months of being together. Dean had never regretted his decision and no matter how big the risk, he'd take it.
"You're the best boyfriend I could ever have," Dean muttered, pressing a kiss to Castiel's temple and holding him close. "And I promise you, one day, we're gonna live together in a big apartment and nobody's gonna care that we're together. Everyone will know about us and you'll be able to show me off as much as you want to because we'll be invited to all the grill parties. We could even be fucking married, Cas!"
Dean almost lost himself in the fantasy. He had it all in his head, everything planned out to the littlest detail. Castiel was the one for him, no doubt about that. He didn't ever want to leave him.
"Three more months and we'll be out of here," Castiel added, knowing that for Dean, graduation was the only real chance to escape his father's claws. "Three more months and we're leaving."
Dean was sitting at dinner. Castiel had left an hour ago and with him, part of Dean's heart went. Even though this house had technically been his home for a few years already, Dean never felt exceptionally at home in here. The only thing making him feel like home was Castiel. Once he was gone, Dean was left in a house full of strangers.
Next to him, his brother Sam poked a fork into his food repeatedly, not guiding it to his mouth but rather letting it drop back onto the plate. He seemed absent.
"Don't play with your food," John said sternly from across from them, not even looking in Sam's direction, and Sam's fork clattered against the plate loudly when he let it drop. Dean flinched slightly, not turning towards his younger brother because he knew exactly what he'd see on his face. Rage, burning anger at their father, and hurt. Dean didn't know what it had been this time, but John gave enough reasons to upset them both and generally had the tendency to piss Sam off with just a single word.
It was uncomfortably quiet for a few seconds before there was the sound of a chair being pushed back, and out of the corners of his eye, Dean saw Sam stomping up the stairs. He threw his door closed forcefully and immediately, it was quiet again. The sound of cutlery against porcelain was the only sound Dean was gonna hear for the rest of dinner.
He ate up quietly, setting his plate down at the counter when he was done.
Then he retreated to his room.
"Where's that best friend of yours?" John asked, sitting in front of the TV, nursing a beer. Castiel hadn't been over in almost four days. Dean was surprised John even noticed.
"He's sick," Dean replied, not elaborating. He didn't mention that he'd been staying with Castiel every day since, practically skipping school, and how he'd been worrying about him so much he could barely sleep. Castiel's fever had been dangerously high for two days straight, his anxious mother hovering above him like a helicopter. Dean was surprised she'd even let him inside the house. But then again, she'd always liked him.
"I'm going out," Dean announced, taking the keys to the Impala, and bend over to tie his shoes.
"Where are you going?" John grumbled. It was a Saturday.
"Visiting Cas," his son replied evenly.
"Don't you ever get tired of his stupid face?" John muttered to himself, not noticing the way Dean's shoulders stiffened.
"He's my best friend, and he's sick," Dean repeated sternly. "I am not gonna let him suffer alone."
John had no further comment and Dean took that as his cue, walking right out the front door and slamming it shut behind him.
In a few minutes, he'd feel better, he told himself. Seeing Castiel always made Dean forget about his worries at home. He'd be okay soon.
"Oh, Dean, it's good to see you! Cas has been asking about you already," Mrs. Novak greeted him with a happy smile.
"Hello, Mrs. Novak," Dean answered politely and smiled back. She let him in immediately.
Castiel's mother was a wonderful woman in her late forties, always wearing a friendly smile, never mind how hard of a time she was having. She was a single mom with an asshole of an ex-husband and even though she would never admit it, she was struggling to manage work, cooking and taking care of her son simultaneously, especially when said son was sick.
Dean was more than happy to help her out in any way he could.
"When are you off to work?" Dean asked, taking his shoes off and placing them neatly next to the door.
"I have to leave in a few minutes; you had excellent timing," Mrs. Novak said, seeming relieved. "Do you mind taking care of Cas again until I get back? I know it's a lot to ask, but I have no one else right now and I know Cas means a lot to you," she begged and Dean nodded without hesitating.
"I'll watch over him, don't worry," he promised, sincerity in his voice. Castiel's mom looked at him as if she was about to cry but held herself back with some effort.
"Thank you, sweetheart," she said and pulled him into a warm hug. "I'm glad Cas found someone like you," she muttered into his shirt and Dean's heart skipped a beat. "You're a great guy, Dean."
"Th-Thanks," he stuttered, not quite sure how to react to the compliment. John never said anything nice to him and the girls at school only talked about his good looks. He wasn't used to this kind of praise. "It's no problem... Cas is my... best friend," he added, voice breaking slightly at the end of the sentence, a conflicting look in his eyes. Mrs. Novak noticed but didn't comment.
She simply laid a hand on his shoulder and squeezed it once while smiling at him with a knowing expression.
It made Dean uneasy.
"Anyway, I really gotta get going. Thank you so much!" she said and caressed his arm one more time before leaving. The door snapped shut and promptly, Dean was alone.
"Cas?" he asked quietly when he knocked on Castiel's door. "Are you awake?"
"Dean," Castiel replied and Dean opened the door, smirking at him. "I was hoping you'd be my babysitter."
"Forever and always, darling," he replied and smirked cheekily. Then he sat down at the edge of Castiel's bed and got a little more serious. "How are you feeling?" he asked.
Castiel smiled at the concern in his boyfriend's voice and lifted himself up, so he was sitting as well. His hair was mussed from having stayed in bed for days and he was wearing the bee-pajamas his mom had gotten him a few months ago. He looked exhausted but much healthier than the day before.
"I'm feeling a lot better," Castiel replied. "The fever's gone completely, but I still have a headache. It's manageable though."
"I'll get you some medicine," Dean promised, ruffling Castiel's hair and messing it up even more. Castiel batted his hand away on instinct, making them both laugh, and they silently grinned at each other. Then Dean stood up and left for the bathroom. He knew where the Novaks' medicine cabinet was, so he quickly got Castiel his headache meds and returned to the room.
"You hungry?" Dean asked after Castiel had swallowed, and his boyfriend nodded quietly. "Let's get to the kitchen then."
Mrs. Novak was a smart woman. That much, Dean knew. What he didn't know though, was just how smart she was. He didn't realize that she'd had both the boys figured out from the very beginning. She'd known about their three-year-long mutual crush on each other and had even encouraged Castiel on several occasions to make a move on Dean, without either of them realizing. She'd also noticed the change in their relationship after the school dance immediately.
It was wonderful and heart-breaking at the same time to watch their innocent, genuine love for each other.
What Mrs. Novak didn't know though, was why Castiel hadn't told her about his relationship yet. He kept his mouth shut, no matter how often she hinted at them being unusually close. Her son didn't budge, ever. And it made her somewhat sad.
Had she not made sure to tell him she loved him no matter what? Was he afraid she'd be mad at him for being gay? If that was the case, she'd consider herself a disgrace of a mother.
She'd really tried getting her son to admit to his secret relationship, but it was hopeless. So she'd stopped hinting at it after a while and simply accepted that he didn't want her to know. He'd come around eventually... She hoped.
For now though, she was happy watching their love unfold. It showed in all their small smiles, their frequent touches, their lingering glances at each other. It was beautiful to observe.
"Mr. Winchester?" Mrs. Novak asked, smiling, when she noticed Dean's father in line in front of her. She'd been on her way home and had decided to stop at the local supermarket to buy some groceries for dinner. Dean had probably made Castiel lunch but there simply wasn't enough food in the fridge for another meal. So Mrs. Novak had parked her car and walked into the store.
"Mrs. Novak," John greeted back when he realized it was her, forcing himself to smile despite his horrible hangover. She was a nice woman after all. "How's your son? Dean said he was sick?"
"Oh, it's terrible, he has a horrible flu! But he's getting better and his fever's finally gone," she explained happily. She hadn't seen Mr. Winchester in a while. "It's really no surprise he got better this quickly though. Dean has been taking such good care of him. He's a wonderful boy," she said, praising the man's son, but the response she got was not what she'd expected.
John wore a confused frown and had an unreadable expression on his face. "Dean was with Castiel all week?" he then asked, making sure, and Mrs. Novak nodded enthusiastically.
"Of course! Cas and Dean can't go a single day without seeing each other, now can they?" she laughed. "Dean has been cooking for him whenever I wasn't home, and he looked after him while I was at work. It was a huge help."
"He's... he's been cooking for him?" John repeated, dumbfounded.
"Yeah, he's quite good," she told him, winking slightly. "And what's more romantic than a guy cooking for his boyfriend?"
"B--Boyfriend?" John suddenly spit out, taken aback, and his voice was laced with something dangerous. "What the fuck are you talking about?!" he exclaimed, raising his voice, and Mrs. Novak took a step back involuntarily. She didn't know what had happened just now, but it didn't feel good.
"That makes $12.50, please," the man at the register suddenly interrupted them, annoyance showing in his voice. "If you would please hurry up." John turned, pissed, and paid agitatedly, then left without saying goodbye to Castiel's mother.
He was brooding the whole way back home.
It didn't take John long to see it. Castiel eventually recovered from his flu and soon, Dean and him were back to the way they were. They hung out every day, mostly hiding away in Dean's room, so John never really saw them much. After what Mrs. Novak had said though, that thought filled him with dread. Her words couldn't be true, right?
His suspicion didn't leave John alone though. He spent the days spying after Dean and his supposed best friend whenever they were outside of Dean's room -- which wasn't often. He studied the way they behaved with each other, but didn't come to an immediate conclusion. They'd acted like that since forever... But then again, they could've been doing this since forever.
It was the third day of snooping around when John couldn't control his curiosity anymore.
He'd been wandering the hallway in front of Dean's door for a few minutes already, contemplating on whether to really take a look or not, but after some more indecisive pacing he decided to just go for it.
It couldn't be true anyway. There was nothing he'd see except two best friends talking. Right?
He walked over to Dean's door, hesitating for another moment, but then he opened the door quietly. Through the small gap, he couldn't see Castiel or Dean, but he really didn't need to. Because the sound of someone kissing and the single shirt lying on the floor was enough for John to shut the door quickly again.
His hands were trembling, heartbeat quickening in his chest. It couldn't be true. It couldn't! There was no way his own son was--
He balled his hands to fists. There was no other explanation though, was there?! Mrs. Novak had been right.
His son was a fag.
When Dean sat down at dinner, he immediately sensed something was wrong. The air was buzzing with a dangerous kind of electricity, leaving him feeling anxious and uncomfortable. His father was staring at him, cutting off a huge piece of his steak and chewing it almost aggressively. It wasn't very reassuring.
Dean looked to his left. Sam seemed to be almost as uncomfortable as him, getting the same weird vibe from their father, and he met Dean's gaze carefully, a question in his eyes.
Dean shrugged nervously but forced himself to ignore his uneasiness as best as he could and ate some of his steak. It didn't go down easily.
It was uncomfortably quiet. Not that that was unusual. But today, the silence was even heavier and eerie, and to be honest, it freaked Dean out a little. Or a lot...
"Could you pass me the salt, please?" he asked his younger brother, just to fill the silence with some words. Bad idea.
John stopped eating all of a sudden. His glare visibly intensified as he still kept looking at his oldest son and Dean felt his blood turn cold.
"A-Are you alright, Dad?" Sam asked from beside him, sounding scared, and Dean put his fork down carefully. John didn't avert his gaze, pure disgust filling his eyes, and Dean realized he was in big trouble.
"Go upstairs, Sammy," he ordered and Sam froze. He knew what those words usually meant. It was gonna get ugly soon.
"No," he decided, not wanting to leave Dean alone with their angry father.
"Sammy, plea--"
"Why, Dean, let him stay," John said, voice ice-cold and eyes still fixed on Dean. "I bet he'd be just as interested in what a filthy, cock-sucking whore you are."
Bam.
John's words hit Dean like a punch to the gut. He knew.
The very moment Dean realized, his stomach turned upside down, heart racing wildly. He barely managed not to lose his dinner, but he could still hear his blood pumping fast in his ears. Quickly, he opened his mouth to deny his father's words, but John cut him off angrily.
"Don't even try and lie to me!" he shouted, anger clear in his voice, and he stood up, making himself seem impossibly bigger. A vein was visible on his forehead. Dean could only stare. "You know, I saw you, with my own two eyes, shoving your filthy tongues down each other's throats. Did you think I wouldn't notice?!" he asked, looking at Dean, disgusted.
His words made Dean's eyes widen with fear. John had seen them. This was bad. This was really, really bad.
"Dad, I--" he started desperately but John interrupted him just like before.
"Did you like it, Dean?" he mocked, his words throwing invisible knives at Dean's heart. "Do you like sucking dick? Do you like having it up your filthy ass?" He was full on shouting now, getting angrier with every word he said, and Dean pushed his chair away from the table in an attempt to flee the room. Sam was already standing, hiding in the corner a few feet away.
"Don't you dare leave right now!" John rumbled, voice powerful like thunder, and he swept his arm over the table forcefully, taking everything with it. Food spilled out of the pot, making a mess on the tiles, and the plates broke rattling where they hit the floor. It made a truly awful noise.
Dean had just enough time to jump backwards before a shard could cut his face.
It was as if time slowed down all of a sudden. John shouting insults at him that he'd never wanted to hear. The panic in Sam's eyes when he turned towards him. His own shock, making him useless and unable to move, even when he saw his father stomping towards him with purpose.
"No son of mine will ever be a fag," he said, deadpan, and the only thing Dean would later remember was the fist crushing down upon him.
Dean awoke hours later, lying on the floor. His whole body hurt, not just his face, indicating a lot more taken blows than the one he remembered, and he took a few minutes for himself to let the pain subside.
His left eye was swollen and half-closed, his mind foggy, and he had a terrible headache. He couldn't focus on a single thought. The only thing he knew for sure, was that something horrible had happened that made his Dad go nuts, but for the life of him, he couldn't remember what.
He sat up slowly, groaning in pain, but still forced himself to get it together.
John had hit him on several occasions before but never had his beatings been this bad. Never had they been visible and right in Dean's face. What had he done this time that was so bad? The only thing Dean still remembered was Castiel leaving, and then sitting down at dinner, and the next memory he had was being screamed at.
Oh. Right. Castiel...
Fuck.
Dean pressed his eyes closed and put his head in his hands in desperation. His eyes were wet with unspilled tears, but fuck, he was not gonna cry over this! Just because John knew about Castiel and him now didn't mean it was over!
...Did it?
He wiped away a stray tear. He wasn't crying. He wasn't.
That'd be like admitting he was screwed.
"Fuck," he mumbled again, frustrated and upset about his situation, and he pushed himself off the floor with some effort. Everything was spinning for a moment and he had to hold on to a chair nearby, but it was nothing he couldn't deal with. He was gonna be fine... He hoped.
"Dean?" someone asked nervously and he turned around. It was Sam, standing in the doorway and looking at him with a worried expression on his face. "Are you okay?"
" 'M fine," Dean grumbled, ignoring the throbbing pain in his face, his headache and the sick feeling in his stomach; not to mention the stinging feeling of betrayal and disappointment when thinking of John's reaction. " 'S nothing that won't heal..."
"I'm so sorry, Dean," Sam whispered, coming closer carefully, but he didn't dare touch Dean. Of course he didn't. Sam was probably just as disgusted by him as their father...
To be honest, Dean couldn't even blame him for it because shit, they were both right. He was nothing more than a worthless fag, he realized. He didn't deserve any of their love...
"It's okay, Sammy, you don't have to do this," Dean muttered, turning away, but Sam didn't leave like he expected. "You can go."
"I won't leave, Dean. Forget it. I don't care about you and Cas," he said determinedly, and Dean threw him a quick glance. Was he messing with him? He had to be messing with him, right? That was about the only thing Dean was able to believe at the moment anyway...
But looking into Sam's eyes he saw the honesty in them. He saw that they spoke nothing but the truth and his worried expression was sincere and caring. Dean had to hold back a sob at the sight, because fuck, Sam was still with him. After everything.
Tears were suddenly blurring his vision again, some of them spilling unintentionally. He wiped them away quickly and averted his gaze. He couldn't look Sam in the eye like this.
"Dad is wrong and an asshole," Sam continued and this time, he did touch him. His hand was warm and steady on Dean's arm, reassuring him and calming him down slightly. "Don't listen to him, okay?"
Dean simply nodded. He still knew that Castiel was the best thing that had ever happened to him, John was not gonna destroy that for him. But that didn't help how worthless he felt and it certainly didn't mean John's words just vanished. They'd follow him around for a long time before they'd stop hurting...
"Where's the bastard anyway?" Dean changed the topic and winced at the weak sound of his voice. "And what time is it?"
"It's 4am... Middle of the night. Dad left right after he--" Sam stopped suddenly, not wanting to remind Dean of John beating him unconscious. "Dad left. He hasn't been home since."
"He's probably getting drunk off his ass," Dean commented bitterly. 'Trying to forget about his gross disappointment of a son,' Dean added quietly.
"I cleaned the floor," Sam mentioned hesitantly, gesturing in the direction of the former mess John had left. "I wasn't sure what to do about you because you were too heavy for me to carry, so I had to leave you lying on the floor... I'm sorry."
"Thanks, Sammy," he said genuinely and smiled at him weakly. "You did what you could." Ruffling Sam's hair, he added proudly, "You're an amazing brother..."
Dean dreaded school the next day. Well, actually, he dreaded Castiel seeing him like this, not school itself. His eye all blue and swollen, a light limp in his pace... Castiel would know right away who was responsible for it and he'd be furious.
When he got to school, he immediately noticed that all eyes were on him. Great. He knew there was gonna be talk.
Ignoring the stares and hiding his face as well as he could, he walked towards his locker like every day. He took his books out slowly, knowing that this was usually the time Castiel showed up, and he feared the moment more with every second.
"Hello, Dean," Castiel said, a happy little grin on his face like he always did when he saw Dean. The latter forced a smile back, not quite turning towards Castiel because his swollen eye was just out of his boyfriend's sight.
"Hey, Cas," he replied, trying to sound cheerful, but he didn't believe he succeeded. It was confirmed quickly when Castiel's brow furrowed in confusion, tilting his head slightly. Dean had always loved that gesture but right now, it made him queasy.
"Is everything alright, Dean?" he asked, touching his arm, and Dean turned his head away quickly. He stared inside of his locker, suppressing another wave of tears -- he'd already cried three times that night and that had to be more than enough.
"Sure, yeah, I'm fine," he pressed out between purposefully even breaths. "Everything's good..."
"Dean? Seriously, what's wrong? Talk to me," Castiel demanded, trying to catch his eye. "Please, at least look at me," he begged, hurt and worry in his voice, and Dean closed his eyes for a second, bracing himself, before he inevitably turned towards him.
Castiel gasped. "Oh my-- Oh my god," he uttered quietly, instinctively reaching out a hand towards Dean's swollen eye. He stopped himself inches before touching it. "What... what happened?" he whispered, disbelief clear in his voice, and he searched Dean's eyes for a response.
Dean turned his gaze elsewhere, blinking away the moisture in his eyes, and Castiel's jaw set.
"John," he concluded correctly.
Dean nodded, still not looking at his boyfriend. "He knows, Cas," was all he had to say for Castiel's eyes to widen in panic.
"What? How?" he asked but then corrected himself. "Wait, don't. It doesn't matter..."
They were silent for a few seconds, just looking into the other's eyes, a silent conversation in their gazes. Then Castiel slowly reached out his hand again and this time, he didn't stop himself from touching Dean's eye.
The contact was feather-light but still, Dean winced at the feeling. His eye was somewhat sensitive right now.
"Sorry," Cas mouthed. His look was full of disbelief and so full of worry, it almost broke Dean's heart. "I can't believe he did that to you," he whispered.
Dean shook his head quietly, not able to speak without breaking into sobs.
"Can I... kiss you?" Castiel asked quietly, aware of their surroundings and knowing that they'd agreed to keep it secret. The only reason for that had been John though and with him knowing...?
"Please," Dean whispered back and a moment later, Castiel leaned forward and kissed him passionately, the overwhelming feeling of Castiel's lips on his grounding Dean. He finally felt like he could breathe again.
Dean sighed into the kiss, completely unaware of their fellow students sending them surprised glances, but soon, they had to pull back. They both knew their school had rules against PDA and even though they didn't need to keep their relationship secret anymore, it didn't mean they had to get in trouble for it on their first official day.
Castiel smiled at Dean sadly and took his hand in his. "We're gonna deal with this," Castiel said. "We'll get through this together."
Dean's boyfriend was perfect.
Sam was still at school when Dean came home, having some after-school club, and the first thing Dean noticed when he entered the house, was the empty duffle bag lying on the floor in the middle of the room. John was nowhere to be seen, thankfully.
Bracing himself for the worst, Dean approached the duffle bag slowly, bowing down to pick up the note that was lying on top of it. It was John's handwriting, one word on it only.
'Leave.'
Dean crumbled the paper instinctively and closed his eyes to keep himself from growling. He'd known this was coming, so he wasn't particularly surprised. He just hadn't thought it was gonna happen this soon...
He sighed, silently accepting his fate, and went to his room to start packing. He was pretty sure -or at least very hopeful- that his surrogate uncle Bobby wouldn't mind taking him in if he explained what had happened. Preferably even without an explanation.
He'd only need a place to stay for three weeks anyway, he'd be out of there in a second once he graduated...
He finished gathering his most important stuff and then went over to Sam's room, grabbing another duffle bag for his things. Sam was gonna come with him, he'd decided; there was no way he'd leave his little brother alone with John.
Packing didn't take as much time as one would expect; they'd lived there for years but still, their rooms didn't feel very personal.
A few minutes later Dean was done, took the bags, walked them out the door and threw them in the Impala's trunk. Obviously, Baby was gonna be his as well.
He sat down in the driver's seat and started the engine, heading towards Sam's school. Distracted, he took his phone out on the way and dialed his brother's number, only for the phone to be answered a few seconds later.
"Dean?" Sam asked, surprised. Dean didn't usually call him in school -- or at all.
"Sammy. I'll be at your school in five minutes. Wait outside," he demanded shortly, ignoring Sam's confused, "What? Why?" and hung up. Sam was gonna be there.
He arrived at school soon, Sam waiting in front of the entrance, and he didn't hesitate to open the door for his brother. Sam got in quickly, an insecure look on his face but he didn't comment.
It was ten minutes later when he finally spoke.
"What's going on, Dean?" he asked, already suspecting something big.
"We'll be staying at Bobby's from now on," Dean answered, forcing a small smile for Sam's reassurance. "John wants us out. Well, he wants me out, but I ain't leaving you behind," he explained.
Sam stayed quiet but Dean heard him gulp hard. He knew it was sudden and uncomfortably new, and neither of them even knew if Bobby was really gonna let them stay. It all depended on how much they meant to Bobby...
The drive took almost thirty minutes. It wasn't too far, close enough to 'home' to still be able to go to their school (and spend time with Cas), but far enough for them to not run into John on accident. Because that was something either of them wanted to avoid at all costs.
"Dean," Sam muttered quietly when Bobby's house came in sight. "Will we be alright?"
"Of course we will," Dean assured him quietly and parked the car. He had no frigging idea, honestly, but he was in good hopes that their future would be better than their past.
After all, everything would be better than staying with John.
They got out of the car slowly, each of them taking a duffle bag and heading towards the door nervously.
"We'll be fine," Dean repeated, not knowing whether it was for Sam's sake or his own but it didn't really matter anyway.
He pressed the doorbell determinedly.
Silence surrounded them for a long few seconds, then they heard slow, heavy steps coming down the stairs and the door was opened slightly. Bobby was standing in front of them, a frown on his face when he realized who was on his doorstep and he looked them up and down quickly.
When his eyes fell on Dean's abused face, he grumbled something unintelligible and turned away, leaving the door open behind him. Not a single word passed between the three when the boys entered and closed the doors behind them, a silent understanding between them.
No words were necessary.
Except for maybe one thing.
"Thanks," Dean whispered.
It wasn't until hours later when Bobby asked about Dean's eye.
Sam and him had been unpacking their stuff earlier, not at all bothered by the fact that they'd have to share a room from now on. It would be rather comforting to have the other present, Dean had decided.
After putting their things in the small closet at the end of the room, Dean had taken out his phone and called his boyfriend to let him know about the recent events. Castiel certainly hadn't been happy to hear about John throwing them out of the house, but he'd been thankful that they had somewhere to stay. He'd said he'd come around later at night and Dean had only hummed in agreement. He was glad none of this changed anything between them...
They were sitting at dinner now. Bobby apologized grumpily for not having anything substantial to eat, but then again, "You could've warned me, you idjits!" So they sat there eating some supermarket-bought mac and cheese, and Dean still felt like it was the best meal he'd had in years. It was perfect, plain and simple.
"So, boy," Bobby then started. "Wanna tell me what made your asshole of a father go all loco on ya?"
Dean shifted in his seat slightly. He knew Bobby loved him like his own son, but if Bobby didn't approve of his sexuality -like his real father- and threw him out as well, Dean wouldn't have anywhere to go... But then again, Bobby would surely take care of Sam, Dean being gay or not, so was there really a risk in telling him? As long as Sam was fine, Dean was happy.
"He found out I had a boyfriend," Dean therefore said, holding Bobby's gaze determinedly, daring him to disapprove, and he saw the old guy's eyebrows raise slightly. Apart from that, he barely reacted at all, his eyebrows the only indication of his surprise. He didn't comment on Dean's words either, just grumbled a blank, "Hm," and continued eating.
Dean threw Sam a quick glance and his little brother only shrugged, nonchalant. He didn't seem too worried, so Dean decided to just wait for Bobby's eventual response, however positive or negative it might be.
Long minutes passed.
"So," Bobby said, looking at Dean expectantly. "Am I gonna meet the idjit or what?"
Dean was speechless for a second or two. Bobby was not mad at him. Really?
"Uh... If-- if you want to, sure," Dean replied, hope swelling within him, and he couldn't hold back the confused smile that spread on his face. Bobby, the second -and better- father in his life, wanted to meet his boyfriend, just because he was the one Dean cared about. Did John's opinion really count compared to that?
"Of course I do," Bobby said and he sounded almost insulted. "Wanna see what kind of guy has one of my boys taking hits for him. You must be completely love struck," he muttered and Dean blushed.
"I really do love him," Dean silently admitted and it felt weird but also wonderful to say it to someone other than Castiel. Bobby only snorted, which was his way of showing affection, and Dean visibly relaxed. He was safe and accepted and he still had Castiel. Everything was good now...
"What's the guy's name anyway?" Bobby suddenly asked, realizing he didn't even know his name, and Dean smiled like a fool.
"His name is Cas," he replied. "And he's awesome."