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Tonight was the night, Dean was sure of it. He and Castiel had been dancing around each other for weeks now, ever since Dean very publicly came out to the school and dared anyone to have a problem with it. Maybe even before that. It was hard to tell considering they’d known each other their whole lives.
All those lingering stares and breaches of personal space had to mean something. Sure Cas was a little weird anyways, but he was even weirder with Dean, and Dean liked it. A lot.
Ever since he came out of the proverbial closet he had been trying to drop hints to the other boy, but it seemed that Castiel was either clueless or uninterested and Dean refused to believe the latter. No one stares—fucking gazes—at someone they don’t like the way Cas stares at him. It makes something indescribably warm bubble up in Dean’s chest.
He had been with quite a few people, male and female, and never felt like this before. So he was officially done waiting around for Cas to make the first move. He had it from a very reliable source that Castiel was going to be at Meg’s party that night, so it was settled. Dean would go and tell Cas how he felt, maybe stake a public claim, he wasn’t sure. He’d figure it out when he got there.
Meg’s house was just as crowded and noisy as Dean expected it to be. Meg had thrown a party every couple weeks since the end of 7th grade and by now everyone knew there’d be free booze and no adult supervision, thus everyone who could pass Meg’s inspection showed up.
Dean scanned room after room, looking for a head of messy, dark hair. He grabbed a solo cup of whatever they were pumping from the keg as he passed through the kitchen and finally found who he was looking for in the dining room next to it.
Cas was sitting in a circle of about ten people, and they were playing spin the bottle of all things. Dean hadn’t played the stupid game for years, but he was down. Maybe he’d even get lucky and it’d land on Cas and then he wouldn’t have to wait to kiss the blue-eyed boy. He was already imagining how Castiel’s lips would feel when he squeezed in between Jo and Charlie.
“Winchester! I thought you weren’t gonna make it.” Victor called across the circle.
Dean didn’t bother to look away from Castiel when he answered. “Yeah, well… there’s someone here I wanted to see.” Castiel just looked back at him like he always did, and Dean’s grin turned feral.
The game started back up after Dean’s little interruption and soon everyone was kissing everyone else… except Dean and Cas. Dean had watched Castiel kiss Jo, Chuck and finally Meg before he started to get a little pissed. Meg practically stuck her tongue down Cas’s throat and he was so not ok with that. Dean, on the other hand, didn’t pay any attention at all to the people he was kissing. He only had eyes for Cas.
Cas, the quiet, thoughtful kid that everyone seemed to flock to. Cas, the kid that was never actually in the closet to begin with, because normal rules for teenage angst just didn’t apply to him. Cas, the glue that held their motley group of friends together. The one common denominator that had brought together kids from every different background and somehow made them feel like they belonged, from the loud, bratty punk kid Balthazar to spunky, peppy Charlie to quiet, twitchy Chuck. Cas was just that special.
Dean couldn’t keep his eyes off his friend. He was so angry with himself that it had taken till junior year to actually figure it out. He thought of all the time he could have spent with Castiel as more and wanted to scream. Each minute seemed to drag on indefinitely. He was ready now, goddammit. He was done waiting.
It was his turn again, and he spun it with a little more force than necessary. He had already made up his mind. When the bottle pointed to Garth, Dean was already launching himself across the circle and onto Castiel’s lap.
“Fuck this game!” he announced, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders.
“But Dean, the bottle pointed to—” Confusion was written plainly on his friend’s face, but Dean could see his pupils dilating nonetheless. Castiel’s hands pressed against Dean’s back.
“I know who it pointed to, Cas, but I don’t want to kiss anyone but you.” Dean ignored the chuckles and snickers and ‘finally’-s from his friends. Everyone knew how Dean felt—everyone but Cas anyway.
“Really?” Cas breathed, looking at Dean like he was giving him a gift. Like Dean was something special, something wanted—and god, Dean soaked it up like sunshine. Like water in the desert.
Dean moved his hands from Castiel’s shoulder blades to cradle the back of his friend’s skull, twining his fingers in Cas’s messy, sexy, perfect hair. “Really.” And then Castiel’s lips were pressed against his.
Dean could vaguely hear Charlie and Becky cheering and Victor groaning but all he could think about was that this was so much better than he had imagined. Cas’s lips were always so chapped, but they were softer than they looked and warm. So warm. Dean pulled one between his teeth to give it a gentle nip and Castiel’s mouth opened with a gasp. He chased Cas’s exhale to the source with his tongue, tasting cinnamon from the Altoids that Castiel was always chewing. He resolved not to bug his friend about the habit anymore. He tasted amazing.
“Guys, c’mon. Go make out somewhere else. Some of us are still trying to play.” Victor complained.
Dean pulled away from Cas’s mouth for a second and chuckled when Cas tried to chase his lips. “Oh just stop being such a chicken shit and go make out with Jo already.” He heard Victor let out an undignified squawk but didn’t wait to see how it all worked out because Cas was mouthing at his neck and if he didn’t stop, Dean was going to pop a very public boner.
“Cas. Cas, buddy, lets move this party elsewhere before I give the whole school a show.” He tugged insistently at Castiel’s hair, but the other boy refused to remove his mouth from Dean’s throat. Dean tugged again and moaned when Castiel bit down, sucking the skin between his teeth. “A—unnnhhh… a hickey, Cas, really?” He unconsciously started rolling his hips down to meet Castiel’s.
“Hey, you assholes! Get a room. And not one in my house either!” Meg’s lilting voice trickled through the haze of lust crowding Dean’s thoughts just long enough to help him realize that he was pretty much dry humping Cas in the middle of a room full of his friends.
He scrambled off Castiel’s lap and ignored the rather loud sound of protest he groaned out. “C’mon Cas, let’s get outta here. I drove the impala.” Castiel stood on wobbly legs, looking positively wrecked, and they hadn’t even removed clothing yet. Dean held out his hand and Cas twined their fingers together with a half-drugged looking smile.
They passed Jo and Victor, almost in the same predicament—Jo looking like she was about to eat Victor alive, and Dean grinned. He wouldn’t be the only one to finally step up to the plate tonight.
When they finally got to the impala, Dean peeled out of the driveway and drove to his house well over the speed limit. It was something Castiel normally had a problem with, but when Dean glanced at the passenger seat, Cas was just looking at him with that same dopey smile and Dean’s heart felt like it was going to fly up out of his throat and do a little dance on the dashboard like that frog from the old Bugs Bunny cartoons.
Reality didn’t sink in until he pulled into his driveway and saw Sam’s bedroom light on. Dad was off doing whatever the hell he did when he left for days on end, and Sammy had decided to stay home and study instead of going over a friend’s house, the little nerd. Dean was not about to fool around with his—friend? boyfriend?—with his little brother across the hall.
He didn’t have time to panic before Cas was pulling him across the seat and out the passenger door. He was about to tell him that they couldn’t do anything with Sam in the house when Castiel almost dragged him through the side gate and into Dean’s backyard. It was then he realized where Cas was leading him.
The treehouse. Their treehouse.
The treehouse that 10-year-old Dean and Cas had started with boards swiped from Uncle Bobby’s junkyard and tools borrowed from John’s garage. John himself had come home from work and found them out back, heads together over Cas’s crudely drawn blueprints and a bunch of water-warped boards nailed to the side of the old oak. He’d yelled at Dean for half an hour for stealing the wood (even though Dean had tried to tell him that the two-by-fours were already in the dumpster) and using his tools without permission, but ended up building it for them anyway.
Once they were both on the same page, they raced each other to the tree, fighting and wrestling each other to be the first up the ladder. Cas let Dean win, just like old times—only now Dean suspected it was for an entirely different reason when he felt Cas’s teeth against the back of his thigh as he climbed.
He pushed open the trap door and scooted over to give Cas room. It was smaller than he remembered, but just as sturdy, and no sooner had Cas swung the door back into place then Dean was on him, kissing him like the only oxygen left was in Castiel’s lungs.
Cas toppled backward with a grunt and pulled some of their old action figures out from under his spine.
“Cas,” Dean gasped when long-fingered hands slid down the back of his jeans to squeeze his ass, “I didn’t bring any lube.”
“It’s ok Dean, we have time for that later. We have all the time in the world.” He said it like a promise, like a vow, and that fluttery feeling was back in Dean’s chest. Less like butterflies and more like great big birds trying to flap their way out through his ribcage. Cas squeezed again and Dean rolled his hips down like he’d done at the party, only this time they were horizontal and the friction was delicious.
The carried on that way for minutes or hours, rubbing and grinding and kissing and giggling like the worst sort of teenaged cliché and Dean couldn’t imagine for the life of him why it had taken him so long to realize he could have this with his best friend. He was so happy he felt like he would burst from it.
Cas moaned so loud it sounded like thunder where Dean’s face was pressed against his neck and the sound was so hot it pushed Dean over the edge. He came so hard his ears rang and he couldn’t be bothered to feel ashamed when a minute later Cas followed, shaking and shuddering beneath him.
Dean pulled back to look Cas in the eye and they both burst into laughter.
“We have got to do that again.” Dean grinned, leaning down to press little kisses along Cas’s bottom lip.
“Definitely,” Cas agreed, “though maybe we should pick a different location next time. I think R2D2 is about to rupture my kidney.” He tilted his hip and grabbed the offending action figure, throwing it aside. Dean chuckled and nuzzled into Cas’s neck again.
After they lay there for a few minutes, a thought came unbidden to him. “Hey Cas?”
“Yes, Dean?”
“Sorry for making you wait so long. These past few weeks I thought you were just slow on the uptake but now I realize you were just waiting for me to get my head out of my ass.”
“You mean it’s not still up there?” Cas made an ‘oof’ sound when Dean elbowed him in the ribs. After a few more minutes of silence, he spoke up again. “I’ll always wait for you. You know that.”
And Dean did. From the time they were little and Cas learned how to ride his bike without training wheels, but still rode around with Dean on the sidewalk instead of going on the trails with the older kids, to now—waiting patiently for Dean to discover his sexuality, and furthermore, his attraction to his best friend. Cas was always there, just a step ahead but always reaching back, ready to help Dean catch up.
“Love you, Cas.” Dean sighed contentedly and felt his best friend’s arms tighten around him.
“I love you too. Get some rest before we go inside and tell your brother.”
They both jumped when they heard a voice call out from below them. “You two idiots don’t have to tell me anything!”
Dean blushed so hard his face felt like it was on fire. “What the hell are you doing down there you little creep?!”
“I thought a dying animal got stuck up in the treehouse. You two are so gross!”
“Go AWAY, Sammy!”
“Fine, jerk.”
“Bitch.”
They heard Sam stomp away and Cas chuckled, ruffling Dean’s hair. “That went well.”
“Yeah.” Dean’s smile returned as Cas traced random patterns onto his neck, “I don’t think anyone will be too surprised. The only one that didn’t see this coming was me.”