bakerstreet | High School Never Ends

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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[ Already decided that this is the place, Dean drops the duffle against the closest wall, but doesn't bother with anything in it yet. ]

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.

[ castiel doesn't answer that, only shoots a quick, subtle smile over his shoulder before easing around the covered sofa to reach the bookcase. it's hung with cobwebs and thick with dust, and that's pretty gross, but he'll manage. castiel leans in to blow the dust away from some of the spines, and tugs out the nearest book. ]

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.

Of course you don't.

[ 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. ]

No, Dean, it's not haunted. [ a pause. ] At least, I'm sure it probably isn't.

[ 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.

Yeah, okay.

[ 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.

[ castiel hardly notices when dean rolls his eyes and skulks away. let him be disappointed, castiel never signed up to ghost hunt, anyway, he's just happy that this house is turning out to be very interesting, so it's giving him something to do aside from following dean around and complaining.

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. ]

[ You know, before right now, if you'd asked Dean "Is it possible to feel jealous of a book?" He would've told you no, that's stupid. Why would anyone anywhere ever be jealous of a book? But here he was. Dean Winchester. Right now, being jealous of some crusty old medical journal, because it's getting more attention from Cas than he is. ]

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. ]

[ oh please, dean, can the dramatics won't you, no one wants to deal with your teenage angst because there aren't any ghosts in your face and castiel wants to look at a book. what a brat. if you think acting broody is going to make castiel pay attention to you you are.. ugh, you are absolutely right.

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. ]

Nah.

[ 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.

[ you're a punk, dean, and you were pouting. accept the truth.

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.

You think so, huh?

[ 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?

[ it is nice, but as far as castiel is concerned, spending time with dean is always nice. would be nicer, maybe, if he weren't starting to freeze his ass off, if they were somewhere warm and comfortable like, oh i don't know, a dorm room, where they could be talking about all of this same stuff and hanging out together just like this, except not in this cold, dusty abandoned house.

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.

[ No way, even without any real ghosts, this place is still a million times better than the dorm room. Sure, the dorm has heat, and snacks, furniture that doesn't smell like dust, and a high speed internet connection with hook ups to a school-wide secret server full of completely free, completely illegal porn of all kinds. But Dean stands by his assessment that this house is still awesome. And as the sun gets lower and the room gets darker and the shadows from the flashlight get longer, it just gets creepier. Which is even more awesome.

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.

[ yes, dean, sure. this house is awesome. it's also not good for hanging out in, when it's freezing cold. dean probably didn't even bring any snacks, did he? just beer. which castiel twists around to grab and sip and set on the floor beside the sofa, where it's easier to reach.

he doesn't seem to mind when dean starts tugging off his shoes; at least he doesn't voice any complaints. it's certainly more comfortable. but when dean starts shoving his feet up between his thighs like it's no big deal, castiel is suddenly glad of the dimness of the room, because it hides the flush that is most certainly creeping up his neck and into his cheeks and ears right now. it's unfair, that dean has no idea, that he can't know what affect he has on castiel so easily, so naturally, because he's a boy, of course, and dean would never stop to think of him that way, would never consider that his easy, playful flirtation and casual touching would drive him nuts because he wants dean like every girl in the school does. and probably some of the guys, really, considering castiel's feelings. he'd tried to hold it off as long as he could, really he had, but dean has this way of.. worming into you, getting under your skin and sticking there, and castiel had fallen for him before he'd even been able to tell himself no.

so now here they are in this house, and cas feels like an idiot because he's blushing, and dean's got his feet shoved dangerously close to some sensitive parts and he's just got to deal with it. he himself, at least, tries to be a little more courteous, slipping his feet beneath dean's thighs instead of between them. ]

Human centipedes. [ he says, distastefully, leveling dean with a dry look across the sofa while he rucks the blanket up and over his shoulders again. ] Sure, maybe. If you really think so, we should explore the basement. ]

Man, I just took my shoes off.

[ That's Dean's excuse. Also it actually really warm under this blanket now. Cas is giving off heat like a radiator, and Dean's starting to get comfortable, and lazy. Ghost hunting just can't compete with a cold beer and a warm blanket with a personal heater. The ghosts didn't stand a chance. ]

Maybe later.

[ He decides. They can hit it in an hour or so on the way out, if Cas is feeling adventurous. Who knows if he'll still be willing after they brave that staircase in the dark. He's pretty surprised Cas even mentioned it now. He doesn't seem to believe the centipede line, or be interested in the possibility of ghosts or madman doctors or anything fun. What, is it some kind of dare? That's all Dean can figure, and he doesn't say no to a dare. ]

You think I won't?

Oh, I know you will.

[ castiel doesn't need to dare dean winchester to do anything, not when he's perfectly willing and happy to walk right into stupid situations all by himself. and now that it's getting dark, he's regretting those words, because that basement is probably a study in a hundred ways to kill yourself tripping over debris.

but dean isn't moving. if he were really interested, he'd be getting right up, so castiel figures he's safe from his own misstep. clearing his throat, he crosses both arms tight over his chest for warmth beneath the blanket, and settles down comfortably, wriggling against the cushions until he's tucked snugly, backed by the arm of the sofa, bolstered by the back. it's warm, and nice beneath the blanket, even if his ears and nose are still cold. ]

Maybe later.

[ Alright well, as long as that's clear. Dean drops it with a smug look (Because damn straight he will. He's not afraid of a haunted basement.), and he throws back the rest of his beer. With the sun gone, it's cold, crisp Fall weather, and it has been for a few minutes. But it's nothing a warm blanket can't combat. Dean feels toasty. Doesn't even notice if his cheeks feel a little cool. ]

I'm grabbing another beer.

[ He climbs out from under the blanket and doesn't bother asking if Cas needs a new one, considering his is still sitting on the floor abandoned. Dean takes his phone out to use the screen's glow to light the way as he fumbles over to the duffle, and as he's getting his hands on a cold new can, he gets a chill, and it suddenly gets even colder. Cold enough to see his breath.

Dean looks around, light of his phone acting as a flashlight, but there's nothing there. He stands, unopened beer in hand, when suddenly there's the sound of something heavy, like a body, hitting the floor a few rooms over. Dean's head turns in that direction, and then he looks back at the couch, and at Cas, eyes a little wider, breath puffing white. ]

You hear that?

[ His mouth curls up a little at the edge. Finally, things are getting interesting. Awesome. Slowly, like he's trying to be subtle and quiet about it (can't scare off the ghost after all.... or the burglar. Or the raccoon, whatever it is. ), he reaches in his duffle and grabs the crow bar. ]

I'm gonna go check it out.

[ it's all warm, and quiet, and comfortable, and castiel is just beginning to think that maybe this wasn't so terrible an idea after all, because he's lying crammed close with dean winchester on a sofa, and that's a plus - and then dean is up, pulling off the blanket, leaving a cold spot behind, and castiel is frowning into the darkness. great. well, that was short lived.

where he's still sitting, castiel doesn't feel a chill beyond the absence of dean's feet, but just after dean straightens he hears the noise. it's unexpected, like a clap to the ear, and all at once he sits straight, alert and alarmed, and it's probably just a beam cracking or something but he still doesn't like it. castiel isn't worried about ghosts or spirits, but what if it's another person? some homeless guy, or worse, a burglar? and dean's - god, he's got a crowbar and he's going to go check it out and castiel really has to wonder how he's still alive, how he's survived eighteen years of life running right into the jaws of danger. ]

Dean.

[ he warns, but dean is already moving. hissing under his breath, castiel throws off the blanket and grabs his shoes off of the floor, jamming his feet into them and standing up fast, moving quickly to the hallway, calling out in harsh whispers. ]

Dean, wait!

[ Dean didn't bother with his boots and he was closer to the door, which means he's got a head start. He's amped up, adrenaline rushing. Finally, something fun out of this complete waste of time. ...Not that hanging out with Cas is ever a waste, but just sitting on a couch talking about books isn't exactly his ideal way to spend a night with somebody. So he rushes off down the hall, ducks into a room two doors down.

There's nothing. No sight or sound of what could've made the noise, nothing broken, no more noises coming. It's all dark and cold, with only his camera's light and a pale square in the middle of the floor from the moon. Already, the cold is easing off, and it's still crisp and chilly, especially with no shoes, but Dean can't see his own breath anymore. His heart's still racing as he pockets his phone and presses back against the wall, melts into the shadows there. ]

Cas, in here!

[ He sets the crowbar down and he waits for the sound of Cas's footsteps, already grinning like a wolf. Ghost or not, this is already way more fun than doing nothing on the couch. ]

[ castiel's heart is pounding fast by the time he's in the hallway, but dean is already gone, moving off toward the sound, and castiel can hardly see anything in the blackness, there's nothing to light his way aside from the moonlight that filters through the windows, and that's not very much at all. damn dean for getting ahead of him, for plowing forward like an idiot with a death wish. if there's no hobo here waiting to stab him, he's going to trip over something in this darkness and break his neck, and it's going to be up to castiel to drag his broken body out of here and apologize to dean's family for their own kin's idiocy.

why did he agree to this? ]

Dean?

[ he calls, tentatively into the darkness, one hand touching the wall beside him to guide himself, and keep steady, the other put in front of him, searching empty air. in here dean had said, but that's not really very helpful at all, is it, when he can't see anything, not even the light of dean's phone. castiel's searching for his patience, but it's beginning to fray - this was such a stupid idea, and dean is a jerk for leaving him in the dust. his voice is still a low hiss. ]

Dean, where are you?

[ Yeah, Dean's totally a jerk. Because he doesn't answer when Cas is calling for him, just keeps quiet, barely even breathing while he struggles not to laugh. He waits, listening for Cas's voice and his footsteps to get closer and closer, hearing the unsteady scratch of Cas's hand reaching out, dragging along the cracking wallpapered walls...

And once he's just past the open doorway, Dean jumps out at him, wrapping his arms around when he figures Cas has got to be with a loud, "Boo!" all but throwing Cas into the opposite wall with the force of diving on him.

If Cas squeals like a girl, he's taking the win, and they can pack up and go home, because the only thing better would be if it was bright enough to record it on his phone. The pitfalls of pulling pranks in the dark, alas. ]

[ when dean doesn't answer, castiel feels his chest tighten uncomfortably. it should occur to him that dean is screwing with him, it really should, because dean's a notorious prankster, and more than once before castiel has fallen for it, to his everlasting shame. and now, he's falling for it again, because for all his smarts castiel is naive and trusting, and dean is a monster for preying on castiel's concern for his goddamned well-being, concern that tightens his voice when he calls out again. ]

Dean? This isn't funny, where are you? Dea-

[ dean hits him with all the force and elegance of a truck, and castiel yelps like a dog who's tail was stomped on, strong arms around his body, his back colliding hard with the dusty wall behind him. dean is so lucky (or smart) for pinning castiel's arms to his sides, because his initial gut reaction is to wind back and throw a brutal punch that definitely would have hurt, but he's pinned securely, can't even get a leg up to knee him in the crotch like he deserves. there's a quick two or three seconds where castiel really thinks some damned burglar has knocked out dean and come for him, but it evaporates the moment he hears dean's cackling, and catches a whiff of leather. castiel groans in open aggravation, his breath coming fast and his heart pounding like a fist. and he hates that it makes him less angry than it should, because dean winchester is so close, solid and warm, pinning him against the wall like some wet fantasy he has definitely never entertained; he likes it, and that's infuriating. ]

You're - you jackass -

[ Taking advantage yeah, but nobody got hurt and there's no lasting damage, which makes it hilarious. Jump scares are always the best. Dean's still cracking up as Cas is groaning and stuttering like a window in a breeze, the sound Cas made still playing back in his head. Dean buries his face in Ca's shoulder while his own shoulders are shaking and he struggles to get control of himself. ]

Got you good.

[ He finally ekes out and lifts his head. His eyes have started adjusting to the darkness somewhat, and he can just make out the lines of Cas's face and the shine of his eyes. They're close, probably closer than they've ever been, because Dean likes wrestling and grabbing his friends, but Cas is the delicate bookworm kind of guy that always goes stiff and awkward when Dean touches him, so aside from a clap on the shoulder or an arm around the neck, he keeps his distance... At least as much as Dean Winchester does with anyway.

Now though, they're close enough that Dean can feel the heat of Cas's body right through their oxford shirts, breathing heavy and hearts racing against one another. It's new and it's good, like something Dean didn't realize he was missing before now. But he's... He's holding on because he knows Cas wants to sock him, not for anything else. And because he knows, for all Cas looks like a huge nerdy, he's got one hell of a punch when he gets cornered, and he's not afraid to use it. ]

You gonna punch me?

[ Dean asks, still too close, still breathless, and he's kind of grateful for the dark right now, that makes it easier to keep pinning Cas like this without worrying about what Cas might see in his face, having to face him. Feeling's easier. ]

Come on. I'm sorry, Cas.

[ Dean says, and it's a huge lie. He's not sorry. Not even a little. He licks his dry lips and readjusts his hold, arms tight around Cas's, palms against the wall, a thigh shoved up between Cas's legs to keep from getting kicked. It's uh... Well, it's not cold anymore. It sure as hell's not boring. ]

Now, I'm not letting you go until you say you forgive me.

[ He leans in even closer, his cheek against Cas's cheek, voice right up against his ear in a whisper. He seriously... He doesn't have to do that. If it were anybody else, he wouldn't. But he pushes it because he can, because he wants to, because Cas is warm and he smells good. And it's dark and they're alone, who's going to know? And they're just playing around. That's what Dean tells himself, but his voice betrays him, going soft, all the joking gone. ]

Forgive me?

[ the fear has passed into aggravation, and castiel is scowling in the dark, breathing fast, waiting for the moment that dean lets him go because yeah, maybe he is going to punch him, and he would deserve it if he did, so castiel would have nothing to feel guilty about.

but dean isn't letting go. dean is holding fast and tight, and it's dawning on him just how close they are. they're pressed up tight, all but flush against one another, and dean's arms are solid at his sides, dean's knee and thigh pressed between his own, firmly, and it's.. this isn't normal, this isn't what normal guys do, and castiel is self aware enough to know that, to understand dean's body language and what it's saying, even if he's having a hard time believing it. dean has always been a touchy guy, finding excuses to clap his neck or elbow him or drag him around by an arm hooked around his neck, but castiel has never made it easy for him. he's stiffened and shied away, because really, it's better that way, better not to get his hopes up or give himself any more fantasy fodder than he already has.

but this is different. dean is leaning into him, he's looking into castiel's face, into his eyes in the dimness, and he's leaning in close, so close that castiel can smell the beer on his breath, he can smell that good leather smell, the scent of the impala clinging to him, and he can feel the heat of dean's body like a furnace and oh god, it's so good. ]

You're not sorry.

[ he says too quickly, breathlessly, and he hopes dean just thinks it's from residual fear and surprise, even when it definitely isn't, even when it's so obvious even to his own ears, his voice tinged with want, stupidly, embarrassingly desperate. god, he's got to think about other things, about cold things, ice and clouds and maybe his brothers naked, because if he gets turned on any more dean's surely going to feel it, but castiel's got a feeling it's too late. because dean is just making it worse, leaning in close to his ear, whispering warm against it and that's it, he's gone, his body tightens and his blood rushes south and his breath catches hard in his lungs, his beating heart in his throat. castiel tenses against the wall, his body straining forward, but it's not escape he's looking for, he's not struggling, he's slotting their bodies together, his hips shifting and his back arching, and they're all small, subtle movements but there's really no mistaking it.

this is terrible. dean's just screwing with him again, and castiel is so foolishly, horribly into it and it's so painfully obvious, any moment dean is going to jump away, punch him in the jaw, call him something terrible, something evil, regret ever doing this to begin with. he's waiting for the other shoe to drop. waiting for the blade to fall. but he still tilts his head enough to answer back, in one, short breath against dean's ear. ]

No.

[ Yeah, there is a line here between joking around and what they're doing, and Dean has definitely gone skidding across it. He's not thinking about how Cas should react, because Dean wasn't planning this, and never really plans anything. If he'd did, this would be the part where Cas says "What the hell, man?" and "Get off of me" and shoves him away, and Dean lets him, and then things get weird and the drive back and the rest of the school year becomes one long awkward trip through Hell. This is why Dean doesn't plan anything. Because if he did, he'd never do anything.

He didn't plan this, isn't thinking about where it's going. He's just thinking about right now. And right now, he's pushed up so close to Cas that he can feel him, all of him, right through that hoodie and dress slacks that might as well not even be there for how thin they are. And when Dean whispers against his ear and Cas inhales and arches against him, he can feel him even better. And Cas is saying no but it's obvious, from how he says it and from the tent in his slacks, heavy and obvious against Dean's thigh, that he's is so freaking into this. And that is so damn hot. It turns Dean on like crazy, and he pushes his jaw up against Cas's neck and grinds him harder into the wall, getting hard right along with him, and Dean forgets instantly where they are and what the hell they were even arguing about. What was it? Forgiving? Dean swallows hard but his voice is still rough. ]

Yeah, I'm not sorry.

[ He still keeps Cas pinned, but he gives up any pretenses because Cas's skin is warm and right there, Cas's pulse under his neck right there under his mouth, and Dean can't hold back from kissing it, kissing his neck right up under his ear, open-mouthed and wet, sucking just shy of leaving a bruise as he leans against Cas with the hard press of his thigh between Cas's legs and all the weight of his shoulders and chest right up against him.

Somewhere in him, Dean should be finding this weird and wrong, and maybe he does. But mostly it's just new, and exciting, and seriously, so damn hot. He's not used to pushing people against walls. No guy's been stupid enough to try anything on him to merit pushing back, Dean's never thought about doing it (not seriously, not like this) and girls just love to shove him around, jump all over him like they're desperate for it, and he's fine with that, he loves it. But he's never gone after anyone, never had to. And he's not really... He's not going after Cas, here. He's not. ...Even though Cas is the weirdest, smartest, most interesting person Dean's ever met, and his eyes are this amazing shade of blue, and he rolls out of bed with his hair a perfect mess, and his skin is perfect (which is just goddamn unfair when Dean's a mess of freckles everywhere), and Dean's maybe watched Cas undress - because you know, roommates, it happens, just... it just happens - and thought, damn, for a guy who doesn't lift or play sports and reads all the damn time... how does he look like that? Good. He looks good. And it's dark, but Dean knows what Cas looks like, spent months catching glances and pretending he wasn't. Now the door's kicked open wide, and Dean can't wait to touch him, get his hands under his shirt and all over him.

He exhales against Cas's neck, a pale echo of a laugh as his lips curl at the corner and he drags his teeth over Cas's ear. ]

You gonna let me make it up to you?

[ He offers because he wants it, wants Cas to stop saying "no" and let him touch him, and whatever the hell is happening right now, it all sounds way better than getting punched in the face, which Dean's still half-expecting, will still be mad about when it happens. ]

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