1996

Riverside

Dean smiled at Cas, unsure of where this sudden burst of confidence was coming from. Usually Dean had no issue being bold, but this wasn't like just any other crush. He wasn't even sure if the guys would be down for swimming today. He didn't know that him and Cas half naked and alone was the best call, either. The idea had just kind of slipped out, and it would be too weird now to take it back. Also, he wanted to see what Cas was like relaxed. For a teenager, the boy seemed awful stuck up.

      Dean was still pissed that Bobby benched him, but he was excited that he could spend some time with Cas. Even if his gut was churning with guilt over not being allowed to go get Sam and John, who knew when the next time Dean would get a hunting break again. More accurately a John break.

Dean did love his dad, but he hated him more. This attachment Dean had was too much, he always fell for his Dad's promises no matter how many times he'd hurt them. John had beaten him, screamed, abandoned them, all of it. Dean still only hoped he was alive and okay. But John was the reason for Dean and Sam's never ending misery. He was why Dean had broken half his fingers punching walls, why his nose had a crook in it, why he had a purple scar on the side of his rib. John was why Dean was terrified of the beautiful boy sitting in front of him. He was scared shitless of how Cas made him feel.

      After Mary died, John just never gave up, never let go or moved on. Drank more and more. Hunted more and more. Isolated himself from the world until the man standing in front of Dean was nearly unrecognizable as the man who used to cut the crusts of his sandwiches and slow danced with Mary in the kitchen late at night.

      Dean hated his own reflection on hungover mornings, hated how he was beginning to see John in his sunken green eyes. Dean feared if he ever loved, he'd end up just like his dad. If he let himself fall, he'd never get back up. After all, hunters didn't get long, happy marriages. Anyone too close to Dean would surely end up in an early grave. Even if Dean wanted Cas, nearly to the point of desperation, he had to keep him at a distance.

      "You got a bathing suit?" He asked Cas, trying to bring himself out of his thoughts. Even if it was the mediterranean sea of the boy's eyes that pulled him into crashing waves of fear. Despite his fears he still wanted nothing more than to drown in them, let himself be pulled deeper and deeper.

      Cas looked confused, as he often did. Dean fought the urge to call it cute. But it was, his nose scrunched up and eyes squinted. "I-um, no?"

      "I'll go grab you one, you can change here." Dean walked up the stairs, grabbing the phone, calling up Ash and the rest of the guys and telling them to meet him down by the old bridge. They all agreed to bring plenty of beer and bud for all of them and Dean was getting excited. He changed into his own, tossing on an old t shirt over top and grabbing a few towels from the bathroom.

He remembered yesterday, when he thought about giving Cas some extra clothes. He grabbed a shirt and made a note to go through his closet another day. Cas was smaller than him but bigger than Sammy, perfect sweet spot for Dean's old clothes that Sam hated. Mostly his punk and rock band shirts that Sam wouldn't be caught dead in.

Guilt poured into his chest at the thought of his brother. It was Dean's responsibility to watch over him and the fact he was all alone with Dad sent chills down his spine. He stuffed it down with happy thoughts of Cas wearing his clothes.

      He came down and found Cas on the couch. Laying with his neck bared, looking up at the ceiling. Dean tried not to get too distracted by the pale glory of Cas' throat. Just tossing the clothes to him and looking down at his own feet. "Bathroom's down the hall past the kitchen."

      The boy looked startled as the blue trunks and a Metallica t-shirt landed on his lap. "Thank you. I'll just...go put these on." Cas stared down at the bathing suit like he had no idea what to do with it.