Tutoring (Destiel)

Chapter Seven

Deans home wasn't really a house- it was a salvage yard.

Castiel didn't question the odd building, he just followed Dean into what appeared to be a kitchen. Dean told him to sit down in a chair beside the table, Castiel of course obliged. Dean went off somewhere, telling the beaten boy to stay where he was.

Castiel was left to think about everything that happened. How he got the shit kicked out of him, got a concerned call from Dean Winchester, the very same boy that he had (quite a bit of) a crush on, that for some reason cared about what he did with his life because he accidentally witnessed him (yet again) getting the shit kicked out of him. And now? Now he was sitting in Dean's home, ignoring the pain in his face and rib, hoping he doesn't fuck up his (most likely) only chance to talk with the man he wishes to share a profound bond with.

Castiel also thought about how he barley knew anything about Dean. He has those candied apple green eyes. And those "only found in dreams" pink lips. His appearance, Castiel realized, was really all he knew about. Well, he lives in/next to a salvage yard. Oh, and he has to be a good person to help a loser like me. Castiel couldn't help but wonder if he loved Dean, if he truly loved Dean.

The thought stayed in Castiel's mind till he saw Dean coming through a doorway with peroxide and cloth tucked under his arm. Castiel felt his stomach do a flip as he flashed a small, semi-sad looking smile toward Dean. The other boy gave a nod and walked over to the table, setting the materials he was carrying on the table. Dean dragged a chair to where he could sit facing Castiel.

Dean didn't say a world as he reached out and grabbed the bottle of peroxide along with a cotton ball. He unscrewed the bottle and dumped some of the contents on the white ball. When he was about to touch the damp end to Castiel's face he paused, "This is gonna sting a little." He warned. Castiel nodded, knowing the pain that comes with disinfecting.

Dean pressed the cotton ball to the cut on Castiel's forehead, he winced and closed his eyes. When Dean pulled away Castiel opened his eyes, looking straight into the green ones in front of him. Quickly he turned his eyes downward as a light blush crossed his cheeks. Dean grabbed another cotton ball and soaked it in the peroxide. "Okay, Cas. One more cut." Dean held his hand under Castiel's chin and lifted his head so he could get a better angle. Castiel knew he should be gushing over the fact that his head was being held by Dean fucking Winchester, but he was, and he was also thinking about Dean calling him Cas. He wondered if it were the first time, but thinking back, he wasn't focused on what Dean was calling him, he was more focused on the fact that Dean was actually talking to him.

Castiel decided he liked the nickname.

Dean pressed the cotton ball to Castiel's lip and it stung more than the cut on his forehead did, but he tried not to let it show. Dean took it away and Castiel sighed.

"Thank you, Dean." Castiel smiled. Dean nodded his head and picked up the other piece of cloth. It was black. Dean tossed it to Castiel. He was about to ask what it was, but Dean interrupted him.

"It's a shirt. I thought you'd want to change out of that bloody one." Castiel looked down at his now red collar. He took the shirt and stood up, getting ready to take off his own. Dean looked for a second, but when he realized what was going on he turned around. Castiel took off his shirt, placed it on the table, and before he could slip the other shirt on, he saw Dean glancing at him out of the corner of his eye. Castiel put the black shirt on and looked back over at Dean, his eyes were facing forward...not at Castiel. Castiel question if his first sight was true or not. He couldn't have been looking at me, why would he have?

"I'm decent." He told Dean as he sat back in the chair. Dean turned around, but he didn't meet Castiel's eye. Castiel sighed and dragged his backpack over to him, then rummaged through one of the pockets and grabbed his pill bottle. He unscrewed it and quickly popped in one of his oval shaped medicines.