At Your Service (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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bakerstreet2015-11-12 09:03 pm
atyourservices) wrote in bakerstreet2015-11-12 09:03 pm
High School Never Ends
Mostly because I'm surprised we've never had this kind of meme before. We love high school AUs. We love romance. Why not combine those into a glorious mix?
Your teen years are important, formatively speaking. You're trying to find out just where you belong and what kind of person you're going to be. This already daunting task is complicated by the soul-sucking demon known as high school. If you weren't having a hard time before coming here, you certainly are now.
Add into this mixture raging hormones, and baby, you've got a misery stew cooking. But it's not all bad! Sometimes high school crushes can be sweet, and the occasional high school relationship lasts.
So whether you're too cool or distracted for romance or always on to the next good looking stud, come on down and try to navigate the romantic labyrinth that is the halls of The Love High.
HOW TO PLAY
- Comment with your character and preferences. Needless to say, aging down and AUing is welcomed and probably necessary. Have fun with it! Feel free to include a short blurb about your character's The Love High self. Are they popular? The class clown? A drifter? A band geek?
- Comment to others.
- Use the RNG. Or not.
PROMPTS
- childhood: You've known each other forever. Puberty has changed a couple of things, though.
- friends to more: Best buds, right? Can you let a little crush get between you?
- always there for you: You've seen the person you've liked for forever get hurt time and time again, always offering a shoulder to cry on. You should make your own move, unless you're content in the background forever.
- bad boy/good girl: Or bad girl/good boy, or bad boy/good boy...there's a certain appeal.
- the innocent: They're the delicate little pure flower of the school. Do you genuinely want to date them or is this a mission for corruption.
- smitten puppy: You know the type. Always following the object of their adoration around. Don't you want to sweep them off their feet and show them there's other fish in the sea?
- the ice queen/king: You have to defrost them.
- 10 things: You were challenged to ask them out or bed them, but shit got real.
- never noticed anyone before: You'll never be into all this love and sex stuff. Your classmates are crazy - wait, who's that? Your face is flushing. Why?
- never noticed: This person's always been there for you. You feel silly that you've never noticed.
- the unattainable: Is the school's hottest cheerleader or football player really all that high above you?
- follow you until you love me: It's not stalking! You just happen to be in the same place as them...all the time.
- hate at first sight: You hate their guts but you can't stay away.
- sudden hottie: Were they always so bangin', or did taking off their glasses or pulling down their ponytail do that much?
- too shy, too blind: you're too shy to tell them how you feel. you also don't see that they clearly feel the same.
- kindness counts: They were kind to you, which is a pretty big deal in high school especially if you're an outcast, and you can't help nursing an even bigger crush.
- sudden attraction: You're the kind who falls instantly and hard.
- always on the move: You change crushes or dates like underwear. Maybe this one is the one, though.
- nerd love: Both of you are social pariahs. At least you have each other.
- into older people: He or she is the kind of teen who's so mature and always dating college students or even real adults. But you can change their mind about their peers, right?
- differences in social classes: One of you is popular, the other so not. Can you make it work, or will the popular part be ashamed?
- opposites attract: Sometimes, the weirdos get the hottest babes.
- awkward confessions: You want to get your feelings out into the open - curse your voice cracking.
- asking you out: You'll totally borrow your dad's car to take them to the movies. Or here, here's your letterman jacket. Go steady?
- parents don't understand: Your parents want to keep you apart or are too tragically uncool.
- dates: If you have to go dutch at McDonald's, it's sad. Maybe stay-at-home dates are better.
- prom: Limos, tuxes, wasted money, oh my!
- slow dance: The DJ popped in that best of the 90s love songs megamix CD. Now's your chance.
- sadie hawkins: The Sadie Hawkins Dance. Get your khaki pants. Oh oh oh. Girls ask the guys. It's always a surprise.
- sneaking out: The most romantic times are past curfew.
- detention: As the Breakfast Club taught us, it's possible to find love in a hopeless place.
- experimentation: It doesn't count if it's above the belt, right? And finger definitely don't count.
- over the top: You're that couple that is always on the PDA or being schloopy and goopy romantic. Don't be that couple.
- first kiss: Pucker up.
- first time: Is it romantic and slow or in the back of someone's car?
- drunk: Drunk confessions and attempts to make passes are ill-advised.
- fight: High school couple fights can be deadly. Avoid at all costs
- the volatile couple: Speaking of, there's always a couple that seems to be fighting 24/7? When they're hot, they're hot, when they're cold, they're glacial.
- finally together: You're the will-they-won't-they of high school, and when you get together senior year, the whole class will give you a standing ovation because FINALLY.
- long term couple: When did you guys get together? Probably like middle school or something. You've always been together.
- hide who you are: Unfortunately, even these days some people make it necessary for those who don't conform to the "ideals" to hide their true selves.
- break up: Statistically, it was bound to fail.
- after graduation: Can you guys make it work after you lose the common ground of school? This can be challenging if you're going to be living in different places.
- WILDCARD
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Even the limitations don't bother him. Dean actually prefers quiet to rooms full of screaming people. (Blasting music doesn't count, totally counts as quiet.) No people would suck if Cas actually meant it. But just the two of them is people enough for him. Cas is good company, even if it takes some real pulling sometime to get the stick out of his ass. Just them is fine with Dean. And he's already got someplace in mind that he's been saving for an occasion just like this one. ]
No people. You got it. ...Ghosts don't count, right?
[ His grin turns a little wicked as he slaps Cas on the shoulder and stands. ]
Meet you out front.
[ Dean grabs his leather coat off the door and he's in the hall and heading downstairs before Cas can wise up and change his mind. Most of Dean's time is spent in the stadium or the gym, working off the extra calories from all the beer he drinks. It's pretty well known that the 18 year old football star drinks like a fountain, but hey, whatever keeps him winning games. His coach and his dad would never approve, but Dean keeps the beer in the locked trunk of his black '67 Impala, which was his birthday and Christmas presents for ages 12 through 21 according to his dad, even though he got it from him in March when he was 16. But it could be every present he gets for the rest of his life for how much he loves it.
When he pulls up in front of their dorm, rounding the corner from the parking lot a block down, CCR blasting, and he's glowing with pride the way he always is when he's in the driver's seat. At least he's a senior now and technically allowed to be driving her. When he was the only sophomore with a car, the senior class was downright vicious about it. Poor girl got egged or keyed every other week and Dean had to work extra hours at his dad's garage to make up for the cost of wax and paint and repairs. He's glad those days are long gone. It's good to be the top of the high school food chain at last. ]
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but what's done is done. castiel turns to watch dean tear out before he can object, then sighs through his nose and slips a bookmark between the pages where he's got his finger jammed. he takes his time stepping into his shoes and pulling on his jacket because dean's got to bring the car around anyway, so he straightens his desk too, and slides the chairs back into place before shutting out the lights and heading downstairs.
of course, dean's got the radio blasting deafeningly when he rolls up, and castiel winces but doesn't complain, because dean's all but beaming in the drivers' seat like he always is when he gets the excuse to take someone out in his car. and castiel's not particularly interested in cars, but the impala is sleek and attractive and smells like leather, smells like dean, and dean takes good care of it which is surprising, and nice, when it comes to high school guys. he'd rather spend a week driving in dean's impala than an hour in the back seat of some grody senior guy's pickup truck littered with trash. castiel slides into the passengers' seat comfortably, like he's done it a hundred times, ignoring the snide looks from a knot of juniors smoking at the bottom of the stairs. and he doesn't say anything, because the music is too loud, but he shoots dean a brief, soft smile while he buckles up all the same.
all right, fine, maybe he'll enjoy himself. ]
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Cas smiles at him and Dean winks back, fully in his element, and he starts singing along to the chorus of Fortunate Son hits and he ramps the car out of the school's winding driveway so fast that he's just short of burning rubber on the way. The school gets smaller and smaller in the distance behind them as they hit the winding, wooded roads that make up most of the North East. The seasons are changing and it's the perfect temperature for driving with the windows down and feeling the crisp Autumn wind and smelling the sweet earthy smell of decaying leaves that they go whipping past, all dyed red, brown, and gold this time of year.
It's not middle America where Dean grew up, not beautiful Kansas with its endless skies and miles of corn fields and one gray road going so far off into the distance that you can't see its end. But a Christian boarding school in Massachusetts had the best damn football team in the country when Dean was turning 12 and showing a talent for it beyond other kids his age, so that's where he and his dad wound up. It's not as bad as he was expecting. Dean's not into the whole faith thing, but the sisters have become some Dean's favorite cohorts for the most part, and the girls look damn good in knee socks and plaid skirts. The guys don't look bad either. Most of his classmates hate the uniforms, but Dean could wear pleated slacks and oxford shirts every day of his life and be fine with it. Probably because he wore the sleeves rolled up and never wore the tie, and besides a few grudging reminders about the dress code here and there, he got away with it. He got away with pretty much anything at school, which half the time he ate up and the other half drove him out of his mind.
Getting away from it all is a relief, once in a while. Honestly, Dean could drive through these twisting, forested back roads and just keep driving with no destination in mind and the dial set to his favorite classic rock station, and he'd be happy to do it. But it's frowned upon, you know, drinking and driving. And the cops don't go as easy on him as the school. Being 18 means actually bothering to try not getting arrested, so Dean's got a destination in mind, which he figures Cas will appreciate.
Well, maybe not when he sees where they're going. The landscape evens out from suburbia to deep, dark forest on either side. They drive about a half hour, and as it hits late afternoon, it turns even darker as the sun goes red and dips low behind the trees. Finally, Dean slows the car and turns them down an old crackling stone driveway, pulls them up into a huge empty parking lot out front of a towering victorian mansion. Its white paint is peeling, there are broken windows and overgrown ivy, and a sign on the front door says in clear red letters, "CONDEMNED" and right below it in equally violent orange, "NO TRESPASSING." Dean parks the car and grins over at Cas. ]
You ready to get scared?
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but then there was dean, and now he finds himself with a friend, a good friend, and that's a novel thing. would be easier if he weren't attractive, and charming, but castiel won't complain. it's.. nice to have someone to talk to, really, even if he never would have thought he'd have it, and he's not going to let anything get in the way of it.
at any rate, he watches the autumn scenery go by while dean's music and dean's voice ring in his ears, the impala smooth as butter beneath them, and it's nice. he'd still probably rather be studying, but it's nice. it's nice even though he doesn't know where they're going, even though it takes over a half hour to get there, and the sun is going down. it's nice up until the moment they pull up to the house, and castiel is squinting at the no trespassing sign, and that nice, red CONDEMNED notification on the door. he should have known. castiel doesn't bother to suppress his groan. ]
Dean.
[ he's got that tone, that mom voice, and his eyes are lidded when he shoots dean a withering stare, a fine crease between his dark brows. ]
Houses get condemned for a reason, you know.
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Like by teasing Cas ruthlessly, as he's doing now as he throws the Impala into park and kills the engine. ]
What, are you scared already? That's bad, man. We're not even inside yet.
[ He's not giving Cas the option anyway, because he knows breaking into a condemned house to do a little ghost hunting is far from where Cas draws the line of "Shit I Absolutely Will Not Do, Dean Winchester, No Matter How Expertly You Beg." Dean hasn't actually found that line yet, but he's still betting this is nowhere near it.
He climbs out of the car, shuts the door behind and leans into the window to give Cas one last taunt with a grin. ]
Don't worry, cupcake, I'll keep you safe.
[ And then he's rushing to the back of the car to duck behind the trunk, just in case Cas decides to throw something at him. Also to pull out his sports duffle, packed full of all kinds of useful ghost hunting tools. A canister of table salt, an iron crow bar, an EMF detector (Got it off eBay a couple years back. It's got blinking lights and everything. It's awesome.), a flashlight, a first-aid kit, a blanket. And he cracks open the cooler and adds two cases of beer. Survival pack complete. He slams the trunk and heads up to the house's front door with a smile back towards Cas and one last look around the property. There's not a neighbor for miles, not a cop (or anyone else) in sight, and probably about an hour left of fading daylight. Everything's good. ]
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castiel shuts his eyes and counts to five, sighs, then unbuckles his seatbelt and climbs from the car, shutting the door with a clap behind him just as dean is slamming the trunk closed and ambling bowlegged up toward the looming house, duffel bag in tow. and my god, that thing is huge - how much has he packed? how long has he been planning for this? he's really into this stuff, isn't he? he has to jog to catch up, but soon enough he's falling into step beside dean, and zipping up the front of both of his hoodie and jacket against the chill. he squints toward the bag. ]
How much did you pack? I thought you said three hours?
[ because it sure looks like he's packed for a week, but he has no idea what to expect of this, really, no idea what dean actually has planned aside from hanging out in a creepy house. thankfully, despite coming from a religious family, and attending a religious school, and having a good amount of faith himself, castiel does not consider something like this anywhere within the realm of 'devil worship', despite what the sisters might say, so dean is off the hook. ]
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Anyway, he's just glad Cas is willing to go along with it, even though he doesn't really know what he's in for. Dean peeks in through the window, tries the door. When he finds it locked, he drops the duffle and digs a lock picking kit out of his inside coat pocket. ]
Yeah, three hours.
[ That's what he said, and he's sticking to it. It takes him a few tries to pop the lock. He's been practicing for years, but it's not exactly easy as it looks on TV. Especially when you've got no one but youtube to teach you. ]
But this is a ghost hunt, Cas. You've got to be prepared. Never know what's going to happen. [ He says the last few words in his best Vincent Price voice for emphasis. Then it's right back to normal. ] Also I brought beer. Come on.
[ The door creeks as he pushes it open and takes the first slow steps on through. Inside, the place is still lit by the fading orange light filtering in through the windows. There are dead leaves, dirt and cobwebs everywhere, broken floorboards, cracked and hanging light fixtures. ]
Awesome.
[ Dean says looking around, because it is, but he looks over at Cas for confirmation anyway.
Come on, dude, tell him it's not awesome. ]
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really, it's a life lesson, he knows, to not judge a book by its cover, to remember that people are not two dimensional, that they are not stereotypes. still, dean really is a wonder, he thinks, and for all castiel thought him a little repulsive when they first met, he's very, very grateful that they did - even if it means he has to spend three hours in a chilly abandoned house on the outskirts of the middle of nowhere. castiel rolls his eyes. ]
.. of course it is, Dean.
[ he says, humoring him, even if it's clear enough that this is not castiel's idea of awesome. the place is a wreck, and his more fastidious tendencies are irked by the mess, the thick dust layered on every surface, the broken glass and splintered wood everywhere that's a sure hazard if he's ever seen one. but he isn't afraid. castiel is a spiritual young man, and he believes in the unknown, he's always thinking about the universe, about spirituality, life after death, things like that, but he's never been interested in this sort of thing. but dean is positively beaming and it's.. really nice to see, to be honest, it's always nice to be around dean when he's really enjoying himself. it's infectious. castiel chances a brief smile. ]
Suffice it to say, if the floorboards break beneath my feet and I die in a hole, I will haunt you until the day you die.
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Hey, if you do that, you can stay here. Who dies falling through a floor? You'll break a leg, at best.
[ Dean's an outdoor kid, always has been. He knows a few things about going places you shouldn't, and climbing things you shouldn't, and jumping off of things you shouldn't, and breaking bones. That's why he's got no problem exploring this place. He heads right up a winding staircase on the far side of the room, right over huge holes in them as they creak horribly, all with the added weight of the duffle thrown over his back. It's got a railing. He'll be fine. ]
Alright, we've got to find the room that feels the creepiest and hang out there until it gets dark.
[ Dean glances over his shoulder to make sure Cas is following. ]
You feeling cold at all?
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but castiel follows anyway, with a heavy sigh, and begins to climb the stairs. and he's not as spry about it as dean, but that's because he's being very careful, finding the spaces beneath his feet that feel the most secure, climbing over them with care - nevermind that his knuckles are white where he's grasping the dusty banister. ]
It's nearly December, Dean. Of course I'm feeling cold.
[ he says, dryly, exhaling in quiet relief once they've reached the landing. ]
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Thinking about it, maybe Cas having a broken leg wouldn't be so bad. Dean could go to the hospital with him, cheer him up, take care of him, help him around at school. ...Is it kind of weird to want your roommate to rely on you like that? Probably, Dean decides. But not like it matters anyway since Cas made it up the stairs just fine.
Dean feels cold too, which is why he'd asked. And the lower the sun goes, the colder it's getting. It's going to be freezing by the time it gets dark, but that's what the blanket's for. ]
Yeah, out there maybe. But in here? [ He leans over close to Cas to whisper conspiratorially. ] Ghosts. You always know there's ghosts around when it gets cold.
[ He's being a shit and he knows it, but it's fun. What's the point in breaking into haunted houses if you're not going to be a little theatrical about it? Truth is, most of the time, nothing happens, and these trips end up boring the hell out of him. But it's a completely different ballgame with someone else around, and Dean's going to make the most of it, at poor Cas's expense. He doesn't wait for the sass back before he's already moving on, ducking his head into each upstairs room, looking for whatever registers the highest on his creepiness scale. He doesn't have any kind of natural intuition or sixth sense for these things, not like Sammy does, but he still knows creepy when he sees it.
Around the corner and two rooms down the next hallway, he finds it. Most of the rooms are empty of everything, except an occasional bookcase or lamp or something. But the next room Dean leans his head into has dusty white sheets covering furniture all over the room. It's perfect. He grins and re-shoulders his duffle and heads inside, waving Cas after him. ]
Come on, this is it. Look at it. You could set a low budget flick in just this room, easy. We should've brought a camera.
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at any rate, he's glad to be over those godforsaken death trap stairs, the rest of this hallway seems safe enough, there aren't even any holes in the floor, so he tucks his hands under his arms for warmth and squints into the dimness, studying the dusty portraits on the walls. definitely creepy, but he's not entirely bothered by them. it's better to counter dean, and point out - ]
I'm pretty sure the central heating isn't on in here, you know. Ghosts or no ghosts.
[ castiel lags a little, clearly far more interested in the history of this house than the possibility of ghosts. he thumbs the dust off of the placard of a portrait and leans in to study the name and date, and he's blowing cobwebs off of the frame when dean calls out to him again, and waves him near. abandoning the portrait, he steps up behind dean to peer into the room, and yeah, sure, it looks creepy enough but that's just because there are sheets on the furniture, not because the room is any different. so he brushes past dean's shoulder and makes a beeline directly for the bookcase against the far wall. ]
You have a camera on your phone.
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I meant a real camera. You know, a movie camera.
[ But since Cas mentioned it... Dean digs his phone out of his pocket and starts the camera recording. And he frowns as he watches the screen and sees Cas heading towards the bookcase. ]
You're not going to read in here, are you? Man, I brought you here to get away from the books.
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A camera is a camera. I don't see the difference.
[ castiel brushes the dust off of the cover of the book with his hand to reveal the title, peeling gold leaf, and immediately gasps -- but no, dean, it's not a ghost, sorry. carefully, he sets the volume down onto a shelf so he can open up to the title page: gray's anatomy, descriptive and surgical. his index finger glides down to the date and publisher. ]
This is.. an original copy. I can't believe it.
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[ Dean dismisses, swinging the camera around the room to see if there's any ghost children or orbs or anything that show up on the screen. There's nothing, of course. It's empty, just like Cas's knack for subtlety and social awareness. Seriously, who doesn't know the difference between a crappy phone camera and the kind you shoot movies with? Cas is a living wonder. Like he was raised in box with no access to the outside world. Dean would think all rich kids are like this, but half the school comes from money. More, probably. And Cas is the only guy Dean knows who's just... inexplicably weird.
But that's what makes him interesting. Dean comes up behind him, looks over his shoulder at the book through the screen of his phone. It looks old, but he doesn't see the significance beyond that. ]
You think it's haunted?
[ He asks because really, that's all he cares about. Maybe it's worth a lot of money or something, but money's never been something Dean's worried about. His dad makes enough for them to live off of, he's got a free ride through high school, is pretty much guaranteed a scholarship through college. He's got all he needs. ]
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[ it's a book, after all. castiel is far more interested in the book itself than any possible ghost attachments, and as far as he's concerned that's perfectly fine. dean's here for ghosts, after all, castiel is here for.. moral support, or something. companionship. someone to talk to. who knows. but he's got his nose in this book for now.
it's got him wondering, though, what else could be in here. carefully, he shuts the book, then lifts his eyes to squint at the other volumes, gently rubbing the dust away with his fingers. ]
It's an antique, it's very old, and very rare.
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[ If Dean seems real uninterested, it's because he is. After turning the camera on himself and rolling his eyes for it, he stops the recording and pockets the phone again. The bookshelves don't interest him, so he starts pulling off the sheets around the room, one by one. He's hoping for a creepy rocking horse, or a blood-stained chair, or a glass case full of jarred body parts, but all they are is a a couch with some fancy embroidery and two really uncomfortable looking chairs that look the same. Dean sighs heavily. ]
Man. What a freaking waste.
[ He goes back to the duffle and pulls two beers, cracks open one and takes a sip. He doesn't even bother with the EMF. There's no point. Then he heads back over to the nerd at the bookcase and offers him the unopened beer. ]
You better at least drink with me, Cas. Don't make me regret dragging you out here.
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so he sticks to the bookcase, uncovering titles, and they're all medical journals and textbooks, some not so old, but some positively ancient, and he can't help but wonder why anyone would leave them behind, who owns this property, and why they're still here. when dean returns, castiel turns his face slightly toward him as if listening, but his eyes are still glued to the shelves. ]
Hm? Yes. Of course.
[ he's not listening. ]
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Whatever, poindexter.
[ He grumbles, dropping the can of beer loudly on the empty shelf in front of Cas before tromping back to the center of the room and throwing himself onto the couch, sucking at his beer sullenly. No ghosts, not even a creepy enough room to merit running through some tests, and now Cas was ignoring him, too. They really should just leave. Dean should drag him out. But he's too stubborn to call it quits. So he drinks his beer and stares out one window at the slowly setting sun, quietly hoping something freaky will happen and save him from complete boredom. This house actually is supposed to be haunted, after all. That's what the online article had said. But so far, Dean hasn't seen or heard anything. Not even a creak of floorboards out of place. It's looking to be just another fake lead, like all the rest. That, or maybe he's some kind of natural ghost repellant. ]
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because it only takes him a few moments to realize it's oddly silent in here. castiel glances away from the bookshelf to where dean is flopped on the sofa looking like he's feeling sorry for himself, and castiel sighs heavily, casts one last forlorn glance toward the shelves, then plucks up the beer and steps away from it and over to the sofa, nudging dean's feet aside so that he can sit at the opposite end. castiel takes a drink from the beer even though he doesn't particularly like beer, then sets it on the arm of the sofa and tucks his hands under his arms again. god, it's cold in here. he should've brought a scarf. ]
Don't you want to see the rest of the house?
[ he offers, gently. come on, dean, stop being a little punk. ]
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[ Screw you, Cas, he's not a punk and it's not teenage angst. It's disappointment which is a totally adult feeling to have. Everybody has it, and he'd be just as miserable about it if he was 28 instead of 18. ...Although he does feel pretty much instantly better about it once Cas is paying attention to him. But he tries not to show it, because then Cas'll think it's alright to go back to his books when the whole point of bringing him to a creepy old house was to get Cas away from books and doing something fun.
Not that this is turning out to be very fun, but at least it's better than sitting in the dorms all night.
Even with Cas sitting on one end, dean still takes up most of the rest of the couch, facing Cas with a leg tucked up under him. It's a little chilly, especially drinking an ice cold beer, but it's not that bad to Dean. He's got his leather jacket, and he's thicker than Cas all around. He does feel kind of bad watching him put the beer down just to curl up though. And it's slowly getting darker anyway, which means it'll just get colder from here if they stay. ]
You know, I really suck at this ghost hunting crap.
[ He admits, setting the beer on the ground and standing, walking back over to the duffle and digging out the flashlight and the blanket. ]
I watch all these TV shows, read all these articles about ghosts, demons... Been really into it, ever since I was a kid.
[ He doesn't say why, as he flips on the high-powered flashlight and sets it in the center of the room like a lamp, pointed at the ceiling. He doesn't really want to talk about why he's into this stuff. He tosses the blanket onto Cas's lap and flops down onto the couch facing him again, scooping his beer back up off the floor as he does. ]
But most of it's all fake. I do what they say, hang around places like this. [ He looks around, lips scrunching up. ] Nothing. None of it pans out. It's all a bunch of photoshop and camera tricks. [ He drinks from his beer, slow, before looking up at Cas and concluding his thought. ] Thanks for coming, anyway.
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but at least he seems to perk up a bit once castiel is sitting on the sofa with him, and he doesn't understand it, why dean even cares about his attention or his company. they're roommates, they see each other every day, probably more than anyone else does, and castiel supposes that he's.. well, still a little surprised that dean even enjoys hanging around him at all, especially now that he's gotten to know him well enough to figure out how weird he is. no one's stuck around him that long. even his brothers and sisters don't stick around him, he's the black sheep in just about every social plane he's involved in, really. but then there's dean, dragging him all over the place, always genuinely interested in him, always seeming to enjoy his company somehow. he's gotten used to it, but every once in awhile it strikes him that it's so strange, that he really doesn't understand it, has no idea what it is that dean sees in him.
regardless, dean is chatty again, and that's all he can really ask for. he watches dean while he climbs off of the sofa to dig through his duffel and set them up for the next few hours, he listens to him while he talks all about his ghost hunting, how much he likes it, and it's cute, castiel thinks, that he's really into it. ]
Oh, I don't know. Maybe you're simply hunting in the wrong places.
[ thank god for a blanket, though. castiel wasn't about to complain about the cold, but it's nearly winter now and he hadn't dressed to withstand hours in the cold, so once the blanket is dropped into his lap he's happy to unfold it, tossing it over himself and over dean's legs both. he takes another drink from his beer before pulling his hands into his long sleeves. ]
I think that if you truly want to communicate with spirits, you can't go chasing after them. You'd have to let them come to you. Things like that.. unusual things, they find you when you least expect them.
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[ Dean watches Cas as he explains how he feels about it, the whole ghost thing. It makes sense when he says it like that, given everything with Sammy, but it's not something Dean wants to admit. He just wants to protect people. Go out and save them. Stop anything bad from happening before it happens. He doesn't want to just hang around and wait for people he cares about to get hit with it, and by then, they're already in deep and there's nothing he can do about it.
But maybe Cas is right. He's smart about everything else. It would figure that he'd know about this, too. Dean'll have to come up with a new strategy after this, if there even is one. But that's not something to worry about right now, anyway. He's calling this one a bust. Might as well just enjoy the drinks and the company instead. He'd rather hang out with Cas than with some dead person or demon anyway. ]
Thanks, Cas.
[ He says anyway, even if it's not the answer he wants to hear, because it's nice for once that someone would take it seriously, without being freaked out, too serious about it. Cas is pretty perfect that way. And this is nice, being in the quiet middle of nowhere with Cas, drinking beers as the sun sets, sharing a blanket against the cold. Dean catches himself thinking that Cas tucking his hands in his sleeves like that is really cute, especially cute, like something a girl would do. But it's not... just something that a girl would do. Anyone would do it. And why did Dean think it was cute? It had to be just because it was Cas. Cas was cute, for a guy. For anybody. Dean never really used to think of Cas that way, but ever since they started getting closer, he's been having thoughts like that more and more often. It's seriously getting distracting. And he's seriously, definitely staring by now.
Dean clears his throat, looks over at the bookshelf across the room. ]
So what's the deal with those books, anyway? You recognize them?
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still, it's a good memory. certainly not one he will forget any time soon. it's special, because it's different, and because it's with dean. and dean's eyes are heavy on his profile, castiel can feel him staring, but that's not unusual; they do it often, which might be strange, but castiel finds that they're always catching each other's eyes, and maybe dean is just the sort of guy that likes to look at people. the attention is nice. whenever he's with dean, he almost always feels like dean is genuinely interested in his company, like castiel has his full, undivided attention and that's.. well, it's not something he ever really experiences, so it's a nice feeling.
castiel glances briefly back toward the bookcase, then turns back to dean, situating himself more comfortably on the sofa to tuck in for the long haul. he shifts so his side is more or less pressed to the back of the sofa, his long legs pulling up to fold against him beneath the blanket, his head resting on the cushion so he can look at dean properly. it's a tight fit, and they're a little tangled, with castiel's feet nudged under dean's thighs, but it works, at least for now. ]
Some of them. They're almost all old medical texts. My father owns a few of them. I suppose whoever owned this house must have been a doctor, or was studying to be one.
[ he shrugs, tugging the blanket higher on his shoulders. ]
I just think it's interesting that they're so old. I've seen those titles before, but finding original copies? First editions? They're rare, and valuable. Strange to see, that's all.
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But Cas doesn't seem too scared of the house, which admittedly is disappointing, if not really surprising. Cas is weird about... everything. Dean should've expected it. Cas is just making himself comfortable like they're not squatting in a haunted condemned old mansion, just hanging out in one of their parent's living rooms, or something. Still, hanging out with Cas is hanging out with him, and Dean is enjoying the creepy atmosphere, anyway, along with the company.
What he's not enjoying is Cas's pointy shoes digging right into his ass. And Cas probably doesn't appreciate the same treatment from his boots, either. So Dean buries his hands under the blanket and starts pulling shoes off and dropping them off the side of the couch: first his, then Cas's, whether he likes having Dean grab his feet and pull his shoes off or not, it's happening. And then Dean's shoving his feet more fully under Cas's ass and between his thighs because hey, he started this, and his crotch is the warmest part of him that Dean's socked feet can reach. Comfy, too.
And while that's going on, Dean still manages to sip at his beer and keep up the conversation, because he's a master at multitasking. ]
This place was owned by a doctor? Nice. No wonder this place is haunted. I bet he did all kinds of weird experiments down in the basement. Cutting people's body parts off and sewing them back together. Swapping brains between animals and people. Making three-headed dogs and human centipedes. What a sick freak.
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