Suburban War - Chapter 5, Part 2

[squeemonster]

One evening about a few weeks before Thanksgiving, Sam joins Dean and Castiel in the treehouse after completing his homework. He’s become a fixture at their side lately as he’s grown older and matured a bit, seamlessly turning the duo into a trio whenever he and Jo decide they’ve had enough of each other for the day. It makes it easier that once Sam’s reading skills really started to improve he begins to turn into even more of a book geek than Castiel. Dean has found himself rolling his eyes more than once as his brother and Castiel spazz out over science and physics books. Dean prefers the pages of science fiction much more than theories and formulas, but he’s not one to tear his friend or his brother away from bonding over shared geekery.

Dean notices that Sammy seems quieter than usual, especially as he tends towards high-pitched squeaking and flailing when Cas breaks out the Stephen Hawking books. He watches as he and Castiel murmur over passages from the latest chapter they’re reading together. Sam’s not grown more than a few inches since they moved to Lawrence, a fact that is a definite sore spot with him, and one that Dean can’t resist poking more often than not. He’s wearing some of Dean’s hand-me-downs, a threadbare t-shirt and worn jeans, and he wears the cast-offs with a pride that makes Dean want to hug him, when he usually is more likely to give him a noogie.

“Dude, what’s up with you? You’re acting weird,” Dean accuses.

Both Sam and Castiel look up at Dean questioningly, and when Sam realizes he’s the one being addressed he scowls. “Nothin’.”

Dean snorts. “Yeah, somethin’s up. What, did Jo kick you in the ’nads again? I bet if you chop off that ponytail of hers, she’d stop with the ball-bustin’.”

“No, she hasn’t done that since Ellen found out and threatened to make her go out and break off a switch,” Sam grumbles.

“So what’s got you looking like a clown pissed in your Cheerios?” Dean chuckles.

“Dean, shut up about the clowns, already!”

Castiel’s eyes dart between the both of them. “What’s the deal about clowns?”

Dean begins to laugh at the same time Sam yells, “Don’t, Dean!”

Dodging a book thrown at his head, Dean teases, “Turns out, our little Sammy here has clown fear.”

Sam groans and hides his face behind his hands. “Dude, you swore you’d never tell anybody!”

“That’s because I was trying to get you to stop crying like a baby when you crawled into my bed after your nightmare that night,” Dean laughs. “Sammy, you know I can’t keep comedy gold like this a secret, that’s like asking me not to fart - if it doesn’t come out, eventually I’m gonna explode.”

Dean grins at Castiel, who is doing his best not to laugh along with him. Sometimes, Dean thinks Cas has way too much heart to be hanging out with the likes of him.

“Sam, I think clowns are pretty creepy, too,” Castiel says, rubbing Sam’s back.

Sam peeks between his fingers at Castiel. “You do?”

Castiel nods, his face even more serious than usual, which is saying something, for him. “In fact, I won’t ever go to Plucky Pennywhistle’s again because they freak me out too much.”

Sam removes his hands from his face and sits up straighter, side-eyeing Dean, his voice gone accusing. “Aren’t they awful? Dean made me feel like a baby for being scared of them.”

Castiel turns to Dean and smirks. “Yes, well, I think Dean likes to make others look silly because he’s embarrassed of how scared he is of dogs.”

“Hey! In case you forgot, I almost got eaten by a dog!” Dean protests, dismayed at how quickly his friend has turned against him.

Castiel rolls his eyes in exasperation. “Yeah, but it wasn’t a little Yorkie that almost attacked you, like the one you went running from last week.”

“It tried to bite me!”

“By licking your hand?”

“You don’t lick with teeth!” Dean retorts, bristling when he hears his little brother giggling. “Oh fine, laugh it up, fuzzball. But when you least expect it, you’re gonna be waking up with a Bozo the clown doll in your bed.”

“You wouldn’t dare!”

Dean grins. “Try me.”

Castiel sighs, shooting Dean a dirty look. “Anyways, is there something wrong, Sam? You do seem kinda down tonight.”

Sam fidgets in his seat, staring down at his hands twisting in his lap. “I dunno, I guess. It’s just…Mom asked me what I want for Christmas, and when I told her she said no way, and that I need to think of something else, but there’s not anything else I want.”

“What did you ask for? A new pair of diapers?” Dean says, then “Ow!” when Castiel kicks him in the shin.

“No,” Sam mumbles. “I was wanting fireworks.”

Both Dean and Castiel stare at him with identical looks of confusion on their faces. “Fireworks?” Dean exclaims. “Dude, it’s frikkin’ Christmas. Nobody shoots fireworks for Christmas.”

Sam grunts. “Yeah, but this kid Brady at school said his parents let him have fireworks for Christmas last year, and he kept bragging about it, and it sounds so cool.”

Shrugging, Dean shakes his head. “Sorry man, but there’s no way you could shoot fireworks without mom and dad hearing it. Besides, if we started shooting fireworks at Christmastime, the whole neighborhood would think we were at war.”

Dean watches his little brother as he starts to mope even more. “Think of something else.”

Sam looks up at him, pouting. “Like what?”

“I dunno, but I bet Mom’s feeling guilty for shooting you down. Hey, maybe you can use that to your advantage. Ask her for a puppy,” Dean suggests, watching Sam’s eyes light up.

“But what about your dog fear, Dean?” Castiel mocks.

Dean throws a shoe at him. “Maybe this is how I get over it. If I’m around a dog when it’s a defenseless little puppy, then it won’t be so scary when it’s grown up.”

“You really think she’d let me have a dog?” Sam wonders.

“Sure, buddy, milk that guilt for all it’s worth!”

Castiel snorts, meeting Dean’s grin with a smile of his own. “I’m sure your mother would be so pleased at your sneakiness,” he says.

“Hey, it takes all kinds of tricks to make it in the suburbs these days,” Dean explains, pleased with himself for cheering his brother up, dog fear or not.

********************

One night a month later, as soon as the clock strikes midnight, Dean slips on his shoes and jacket. He sneaks as stealthily as he can out of his room and towards Sam’s, doing his best to step over the spots on the floor that he knows from experience will creak and signal his presence. Every few steps he stops, listening for any sound of his parents still being awake, but he hears nothing aside from the house settling and the clock downstairs ticking.

He scrunches his face as he slowly pushes Sam’s bedroom door open, cursing himself as the door creaks for not thinking to grease the hinges beforehand. He tiptoes in as best he can in sneakers, and leans over his brother, sound asleep in his bed. The adorable little shit has the covers pulled up to his ears, and he's snoring softly. Dean grins to himself in anticipation of scaring the crap out of him, but also at the thought of the look on Sam’s face when he sees what he has planned.

Dean slides a hand over his brother’s mouth and squeezes his nostrils shut, cutting off his air supply. It takes a couple seconds, but Sam’s eyelids suddenly pop open, a look of terror in his eyes. He squirms, but Dean holds him down firmly, raising a finger to his mouth and whispering, “Sssshhhh. Don’t wanna wake Mom and Dad.”

Sam’s eyebrows scrunch together, and he stares up at his brother like he’s finally lost his mind. “Dean, what the heck is going on?”

“It’s a surprise, Sammy,” Dean whispers. “Now get out of bed and get some clothes on. We’ve got somewhere to be.”

“Dean, I don’t know if I want to be going anywhere with you if you’ve finally gone mental,” Sam mutters, but throws the covers back and climbs out of bed anyways.

“Just shut up and hurry up, okay? We ain’t got all night.”

Dean hands his brother some pants and a sweatshirt that are draped across his desk chair, doing his damnedest to keep from bouncing in place.

They carefully make their way down the stairs and outside, Dean patting his pockets to make sure he remembered his house key. It would suck if they successfully snuck out, only to come back and realize they couldn’t get back inside. Dean guides Sam over to the side of the house, motioning for him to climb onto his bike and follow him. Sam is still looking at Dean like he can’t decide if he should be scared for his life or not, but at least the kid goes along with him without too much fuss.

They ride their bikes along the silent streets, the darkness and the chill creeping around the edges of the sidewalks and beyond, in that way it always seems to do this late at night. Dean shivers against the moist night air, the breeze hitting his face as he cycles and making his eyes water. He slows down a bit so that it’s easier for Sam to keep up, feeling a surge of protectiveness.

The streets begin to narrow the further they go until they reach gravel, yet Dean continues on, Sam following ever closer behind. Gravel becomes dirt, and the glow of city lights recede as the moon and the stars become prominent. Dean doesn’t hesitate on his path, even though he’s only traveled this road in daylight. One of the perks of never staying in one place for long is knowing how to not get lost, and Dean’s navigational abilities have only improved as he’s gotten older.

Before long, they reach their destination, and Dean skids to a stop in front of the open, deserted field. But Dean knows it’s not as deserted as it first seems, and he’s unsurprised to see a shadow of movement coming from behind one of the large stacks of hay bales.

“Dean…” Sam begins, his voice hushed and alarmed.

“It’s okay, Sammy,” Dean says. “It’s just Cas.”

Castiel walks up to them, hands shoved into the pockets of his jacket. “I was starting to worry you got lost in the dark.”

Dean huffs, his breath forming a cloud between them in the chill evening air. “Dude, you should know me well enough by now to know I don’t get lost.”

“Whatever,” Castiel sighs. “Can we get started now? If Missouri finds me gone she’ll have my hide.”

“Guys, what the heck is going on? Where are we, and what are we doing here?” Sam moves to stand in front of them, and Dean can see he’s shivering in the cold. He probably should have made him put on an extra layer, but he was just too nervous about getting them out of the house to think about it.

Dean smiles down at his little brother. “You’re about to find out.” He looks to Castiel. “Is it set up already?”

Castiel nods. “Yep, I’ll go ahead and get it started.”

Dean turns to Sam. “You gotta close your eyes for this part.”

A look of disbelief crosses Sam’s face. “Dude, you expect me to close my eyes when you dragged me out here in the dead of night, in the middle of nowhere, and won’t even tell me what’s going on? You’re crazy.”

“Yeah, and you’re a doofus. Now shut up, and close your eyes,” Dean chides.

Sam stares at him for a second, shaking his head and rolling his eyes before finally closing them. Dean grabs onto the sleeve of his jacket, pulling him a few steps forward gently so as to keep him from stumbling over the clumps of dead grass. He keeps one eye on Sam to make sure he keeps his eyes closed, and the other eye on Cas, watching as his friend struggles with his task in the middle of the field.

“You need help?” Dean yells out to Castiel, impatient.

“Nope, I’ve got it under control,” Castiel calls back, his voice crisp in the silence.

Suddenly, Castiel straightens up, stepping backwards quickly before turning around and striding towards them. Dean can see the fire catching, sparks flying and sizzling, and he leans down to whisper in his little brother’s ear. “Merry Christmas, Sammy.”

There’s a sudden, deafening pop, followed by an explosion of colors in the night sky. Dean can feel his brother jump beside him, startled from the noise and sudden brightness. He looks down to see Sam’s eyes wide in wonder, the lights from the fireworks reflected in the glassiness of his pupils. There’s another explosion as Castiel lights a Roman candle, the sky above them suddenly so bright that they have to squint to watch. Finally, Castiel ignites one of the big finale kits, which sets off an explosion of all kinds of different fireworks, one after another. Sparks and fireballs are launched across the sky, as Castiel steps slowly backwards to stand next to Dean and Sam.

He lights a couple of sparklers as the explosions above them die down, handing one to Sam and the other to Dean. Sam laughs, eagerly taking it and jogging through the smoke from the firecrackers, watching the tracers from the sparks behind him. Cas lights another sparkler, and he and Dean use them as swords in a duel, sparks flashing and sizzling between them. Dean catches a glimpse of Castiel’s face between flashes of the sparklers, and notices that his friend looks sad.

“You okay, Cas?”

Castiel shoots him a quick smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. “Yes. I just…the fireworks kind of looked like shooting stars, and that reminded me of what Anna always said about shooting stars.”

Dean waits to see if Castiel will continue, but when he doesn’t he urges, “What did she say?”

Castiel stares back up at the night sky. “She says shooting stars are angels falling from grace.” He glances back at Dean before shrugging. “I know it's stupid. I just didn’t like feeling like the angels were falling because of me.”

Dean stares at his friend for several beats, not sure of what to say. Finally, he decides to just lighten the mood. “Dude, you shot off some fireworks, don’t go getting all dark and emo on me,” he jokes, knocking an elbow against Castiel’s side.

Castiel smiles and nods, but stays silent. They watch as Sam finishes off his sparkler, laughing as a spark catches his finger and stings.

“You know, I bet Sam never forgets this,” Cas says, keeping his voice low so Sam doesn’t hear him. “This was a great idea you had.”

Dean looks over at his little brother, grinning as the kid stumbles over a rock. “Yeah, well, it couldn’t have happened if you hadn’t thought to come out to Joshua’s cabin. This was the perfect place for it.”

Castiel snorts as Sam begins to jog back over to them. “I’m just glad it rained all day today, so we don’t have to worry about catching all this on fire.”

Dean lights three more sparklers for them, and they begin to have a swordfight between the three of them, laughing and screaming whenever one gets too close and burns the other. Once the last embers of their sparklers have died out, they stand around for a few seconds, staring at the low clouds of smoke left over from the display. All three of them are breathing heavily, trying to catch their breath after laughing so hard.

Dean turns to see the look on Sam’s face, and suddenly finds his arms full of little brother, Sammy having grabbed onto him and wrapped his arms around his waist, holding tight like the mini-octopus that he is.

“Thanks, Dean,” Sam says, his voice muffled in the fabric of Dean’s sweatshirt. “Mom and Dad wouldn’t have ever let me do this. This is the best Christmas ever.”

Dean looks down at the top of Sam’s head, and feels his eyes go misty. He’d blame it on the smoke, but when he catches Castiel staring at him and smiling, he knows there’s no way anyone would believe him.

He wraps his arms around Sammy’s shoulders, pulling him closer and squeezing him tight. “Anytime, pipsqueak. Anytime.”

********************

The summer before their freshman year of high school flies by in a frenzy of baseball and preparation for the coming school year. Dean and Castiel do their best to ignore it all and pretend that nothing’s changing. As exciting as the thought of growing up is, Dean can’t help but feel uneasy that things might change too much, especially in regards to his friendship with Castiel.

One afternoon the week before school starts, Castiel has to attend orientation at his school, leaving Dean alone for the day. Mary urges him to accompany her and Sam to visit a family that just moved into the neighborhood, and since he’s bored he agrees to go along. The family includes a teenage girl about a year older than Dean, named Casey, and she instantly makes Dean flustered, something that he’s never had a problem with before when it came to girls, not that he’s had much experience.

Casey leads Dean downstairs into their basement, which her parents had turned into a rec room with a pool table and dart board. She grabs a pool stick and motions for him to grab one for himself, and they play in silence for a couple minutes. He can feel his mouth go dry, watching her slink around the table, curves tight in a red tank top and shorts. He’s never hung out with a girl like her before, and he’s afraid it shows. She just seems so much more than a year older than him, and he’s almost grateful that he’s so out of his league here that there’s no point in even trying to flirt.

“So, uh, Dean, what kind of action do they have around here?” Casey asks, balls clacking against the edge of the table as she makes her shot.

Dean shifts nervously, watching as she leans over the table again. “Um, what do you mean?”

Casey stands up. “You know…where does everybody hang out? What kind of parties, where’s the stores that don’t card, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, uh…I don’t really know, I guess,” Dean mutters, staring down at his shoes. “I don’t really hang out with a lot of different people or go to a lot of places.”

He knows he sounds like the biggest dork, and his fears are confirmed when Casey walks up to him and smirks. “Why, you’re just a baby, aren’t you?” she murmurs, leaning over to whisper in his ear. “So sweet and so young, I bet you’ve never even made out with a girl yet, have you?”

Dean clears his throat and leans back. “Sure I have,” he replies, doing his damnedest to sound cocky.

Casey smiles slowly, her glance knowing. “Maybe I’ll have to test you on that some day. But not today,” she adds, dropping her pool cue and turning to walk up the stairs. “Because today I have places to be.”

Dean sighs in relief before following her up the stairs. He really did not want her to find out just how miserably he’d fail her test.

Later that afternoon finds Dean hanging out with Castiel in the treehouse, Castiel having returned from his school orientation and complaining about the kids he saw there.

“Aren’t they the same kids you were in junior high with?” Dean chuckles.

Castiel grunts, lying down on the sleeping bag they’d left pulled out from the night before. “Yes, and that’s the problem. I didn’t like them before, and I don’t like them now.”

Snorting, Dean lies down next to him. “Yeah, I bet I wouldn’t like those stuck up rich kids, either. But if it makes you feel any better, my school probably won’t be much better. Full of all these different cliques, and every one of them sucks.”

Castiel hums in agreement as they both stare up through the skylight at the fading light of the sky. There’s a slight breeze wafting in through the open window providing more comfort than is to be expected at this time of year, but it’s still too hot to be completely comfortable. Dean finds himself lulled into dozing off, listening to the wind in the leaves and the drone of a lawnmower a few houses down.

“So, what did you do today while I was gone?” Castiel asks, rousing Dean from his sleep.

Dean shifts, turning to lay on his side, and props his head up on his hand to look down at his friend. “My mom made me go with her to the new neighbor’s down the road. It was lame.”

Castiel opens his eyes and turns his head to look at Dean. “Oh? Do they have any kids?”

Dean groans. “Just one. A daughter. She’s about fifteen, I think.”

“Why do you say it like that?” Castiel prods. “What was she like?”

Dean gives a slight shrug and rolls his eyes. “I dunno. She seemed kinda like a jerk. But she was hot. And, uh… never mind.”

Castiel stares at him, brows knitted in confusion. “What were you going to say?”

Dean lets loose an exasperated sigh. “I don’t know, man. She was just…she seemed really… experienced. If you know what I mean.”

“Okay…” Castiel replies after a moment of hesitation.

Dean stares at his friend for a few moments, debating whether or not to say what’s bugging him, but in the end he can’t not share it with him. They tell each other everything, so it’d be weird to stop now.

“She said something that got me thinking,” he hedges. He chews on his lip, keeping his eyes focused on a thread on the sleeping bag that he’s busy pulling loose.

“…And are you planning on telling me what it was sometime in this century?” Castiel jokes.

Dean shoots him a glare. “Yeah, smart ass. She just…she said she bets I haven’t even made out with a girl yet.”

He tries to look at everything else in the treehouse but Castiel, feeling his face flush with embarrassment.

“Well, have you ever made out with a girl?” Castiel asks.

“No,” Dean mutters.

Castiel continues to stare at him. “Then what’s the big deal?”

Dean looks at his friend in disbelief. “‘What’s the big deal?’ Uh, the big deal is I’m about to be in high school, and I’ve never even made out with a girl yet, and everybody can tell.”

“I highly doubt everybody can tell, Dean,” Castiel replies. “Besides, who cares? I’ve never made out with anybody, either.”

“Yeah, but you never care what people think. I do,” Dean grumbles.

Castiel stares at him so quietly that it makes Dean fidgety and nervous. “Why do you care what others think?” he offers after a minute.

“I dunno…because it feels like I’m supposed to, I guess,” Dean replies, uncertainly. “Because if we don’t fit in, then we stick out, and sticking out gets you noticed, which in my experience, isn’t ever good.”

Castiel turns his head, staring through the skylight again. “You once told me that the only way to get anywhere is by breaking the rules, and making things up as you go. Maybe this is kinda the same thing. Maybe you just need new experiences, then.”

Dean huffs in response, but doesn’t say anything. He leans back and closes his eyes again, but instead of falling back to sleep his mind starts twisting in circles. He’ll never be any good at making out with a girl unless he gets practice, but he can’t get practice without making out with a girl. And if he sucks at it, he doesn’t want some chick going and blabbing about it to all her friends, because starting high school as the dude who kisses like a fish is not high on his list of awesome things.

But if he had someone to practice with that he trusted, then he wouldn’t have to worry. The only girl he knows that he could ask would be Jo, and she’s way too young to kiss. Plus, she’d probably bust his kneecaps for even asking. And really, the only person he’d ever trust enough not to laugh at him would be Cas, but he’s most definitely not a girl.

Then again, if it’s just for practice and not for reals, who says it has to be a girl?

Dean’s stomach flutters, his face flushing even hotter at the thought of kissing his friend. It doesn’t gross him out to consider kissing a guy, not like he thought it would. But that’s probably just because it’s Castiel he’s thinking about kissing, and not some random stranger. Castiel is like family to him, the best friend he’s ever had, and he’s never been this comfortable around anyone before. He’s not afraid to share anything with Cas, and the closeness that they feel with each other apparently extends to not having a problem with the thought of kissing him.

“What if…” Dean begins, but he stops himself because he’s not quite sure how to broach the subject.

“What?” Castiel asks, and Dean can see out of the corner of his eye that his friend is watching him.

He clears his throat, and tries again. “Well, if neither one of us has made out with a girl, but we want some experience with it before doing it for real…what if we tried it with each other?”

The sudden silence in the treehouse is overwhelming; it seems like even the birds have stopped singing, and that lawnmower down the road has chosen this moment to die on its owner, leaving a void of noise that is stifling. Dean feels like all the oxygen has been sucked out of the room just when he needs it most, and his skin goes clammy all over. He opens his mouth to say just forget he ever said anything when Castiel answers. “I guess we could.”

Dean glances quickly at his friend, eyes wide. “You don’t think I’m weird for saying that?”

Castiel squints at him, confusion written across his face. “Why would I think you’re weird?”

Dean really shouldn’t be surprised that Castiel doesn’t see the weirdness of this situation - he has never been one to be aware of or even care about societal norms. Even so, he finds himself giving his friend an out. “I don’t know…because we’re not gay, and we’re just friends, and friends don’t make out with each other, you know?”

Castiel looks away, staring again at the ceiling above him. “Who cares if friends don’t normally do that? Maybe we’re different. Besides, it’s not like it’d mean we’re dating. It’d just be practicing. I don’t see why it should be considered any weirder than anything else we do together, especially if it’s only this one time.”

And that attitude is so like Castiel that Dean can’t help but smile to himself. He wishes he can be so unaffected by what others think of him, but years of moving around and trying to blend in as best he could has left a need to fit in and be a part of the crowd that he can’t quite shake.

“Okay, well, if we do this, we have to promise not to tell anybody else about it,” he decides. “In fact, maybe we should promise not to ever even talk about it.”

Castiel stares at Dean, frowning. “Sure, if that’s what you want.”

“I mean, that way, we can keep it from being weird between us. Just pretend it never happened,” Dean continues.

Castiel nods slowly, his eyes widening comically when Dean scoots closer to him. “Wait, are you wanting to do this right now?”

Shrugging, Dean smiles hesitantly. “Sure. Why not?”

He watches as Castiel turns himself, so that he’s lying on his side, facing Dean, and there’s a second where his nose wrinkles up, and you’re sniffing my breath races through Dean’s mind. A nervous laugh bubbles up out of him, fading away as Castiel gazes intently at him. Dean stares back at his friend for several beats, wondering if he should be the one to initiate the kiss since it was his idea, but before he can kick himself to do it, Castiel leans in, placing a dry kiss on his lips.

Dean breathes in sharply, surprised at first. They both keep their eyes open, staring at each other with uncertainty, and just lie there with their mouths touching. It’s…an odd feeling, to say the least. Dean cautiously puckers his lips, returning Castiel’s kiss, and watches his friend’s eyes widen at the sensation. He turns his head a fraction to the right, slotting their lips together a bit better. Castiel parts his lips to the movement, and every nerve ending in Dean’s body zings when he feels the tip of Castiel’s tongue peek out of his mouth, tasting Dean’s bottom lip.

Dean parts his own lips, daring to lick across Castiel’s upper lip, and watches, rapt, as Castiel’s eyes flutter closed. The first touch of their tongues is the most incredible thing Dean has ever felt. It’s slick and wet, and messy and clumsy, and most likely the best thing ever. Each swipe of their tongues feels as though Castiel is climbing inside of him, and Dean licks further into his friend’s mouth because he wants inside of Castiel, too.

They both pull away at the same time, breathing heavily as they stare at each other, eyes wide and dark. Dean sees something in Castiel’s eyes that he’s never seen before, and he wonders if Castiel is seeing the same thing in his own. Castiel reaches out to him, grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling him closer as he leans in to kiss Dean again, and Dean can feel himself smiling against his friend’s mouth, laughing as he feels Castiel’s mouth open up to him again, tasting the cotton candy that Cas had been eating just a few minutes before, the sweetness making him ache.

Dean’s surprised when he realizes he has a hand fisted in the fabric of Castiel’s shirt, wrapping around his back and pulling him closer. He’s never known his body to do things without his awareness before, but everything about this moment has become so instinctual. It feels right to be pressed up against Castiel, right to be kissing him. In all the times he’s thought about kissing girls, he always knew it’d feel great. But he never knew it could feel like this.

“Hey, Dean! Mom said supper is almost ready!”

Both boys pull apart as if they’d been struck by lightning, and Dean pushes Castiel away, reaching down to straighten his shirt when he hears Sam start climbing the ladder. He notices Castiel wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, and does the same, hoping to God they don’t look as guilty as he so obviously feels.

Thankfully, his little brother is not the most observant of kids, especially when he sees Castiel. “Cas, I didn’t know you were here! Will you stay and show me some more constellations after supper? Dean won’t show me anymore.”

Dean chuckles and sits up, turning away so that Sam and Castiel can’t see how much he’s blushing. “I said I wouldn’t show you anymore because you kept correcting my pronunciation.”

“Hey, it’s not my fault you can’t pronounce Pleiades,” Sam snorts.

“Bite me, jerk,” Dean mutters. He dares a glance at Castiel over his shoulder, catching his friend staring at the interaction between him and Sammy with amusement in his eyes.

“Yes, Sam, I’ll stay and look through the telescope with you,” Castiel replies.

Sammy bounces in place for a second before climbing back down on the ladder. “Cool! I’ll go tell mom you’re staying for supper!”

Dean tenses in the silence after Sam leaves, and begins to wonder if maybe they made a huge mistake. What just happened between them…it’s big. He doesn’t really understand what it was or what it means, but it sure as hell didn’t go down the way he’d expected. He thought it’d be weird and awkward, something they’d be embarrassed of and laugh about later. But what he felt…it isn’t something he thinks he could ever laugh about.

He jumps when Castiel stands up, surprised by the sudden movement. Castiel eyes him warily, and Dean can feel his face turning red again. “So, uh, how’d I do?” Dean asks, trying his best to sound cocky and nonchalant.

Castiel narrows his eyes, staring at Dean and chewing on his lip. That same lip I was just sucking on, Dean thinks possessively, distracted by the thought. “I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Castiel answers with a faint smile. “What about me?”

Dean can’t help the sheepish grin on his face, as much as he tries to hold it back. “I think you’re good, man,” he replies, remembering the slide of Castiel’s tongue against his own.

They both remain still for several moments, Dean not sure of what to do next. They should probably head down for supper, but a part of him doesn’t want to leave the treehouse, because then the spell will be broken, and this will have never happened. It’s stupid to think that way, because before he had no problem with acting like this hadn’t happened, but now that it has, he kind of wants to cling to it for as long as he can.

“Dean, are we okay?” Castiel asks, and Dean meets his eyes to find a worried look on his face.

Dean shoots his friend a smile and nods, hoping he seems more confident than he feels. “Yeah, Cas. We’re good. Forgetting it ever happened, right?”

Dean isn’t sure why he holds his breath, waiting for his friend’s response, or why, when Castiel nods in agreement and says, “Yep, nothing ever happened,” his stomach twists and his chest hurts.

By the time they climb down the ladder from the treehouse and reach the ground, he’s managing to force a smile on his face when Castiel glances back at him, and he shoves all thoughts of what they did to the deepest corners of his mind.

********************

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