Heat of the Moment

Ten

On Monday, Dean got up extra early to get on some good clothes. He was, admittedly, dressing up for Castiel. He'd never done it before. Dean felt like a girl standing in front of the mirror, eyeing his ACDC shirt and wondering if he should put on an MCR shirt instead. He frowned, Sammy sighing behind him. He rubbed his eyes. "Four in the morning? Really, Dean? And why did I have to get up with you?"

Dean rolled his eyes, taking the shirt off and changing it out for a green button up. He decided he liked that, and put on a black leather jacket over it. Dean wondered if Cas would like it. He probably would, knowing him, but he wondered if it would be real liking. "How's this look, Sammy?"

Sam Winchester turned toward his big brother, eyeing his outfit. "Oh my God, Dean, I don't care," he moaned.

"Sam," Dean pleaded. "Just tell me how it looks,"

Sam looked over Dean, his hair fluffed up today, extra sex-hair. He had on regular blue jeans and sneakers, as always, along with the button up and jacket. Sam looked deep in though, and Dean thought he'd give him an honest answer this time. Sam looked up and said, "You want the truth?"

Dean nodded, raising an eyebrow in suspicion. "Always."

Sam smiled. "I think Cas is one lucky dude. That is, unless he gets touchy. Then we have a problem," he narrowed his eyes and looked genuinely scary. Dean scoffed.

"Typical Sammy," he said. Sam laid back down on the bed, nodding faintly as he slowly drifted. "Hey," Dean said. "Now that you're already up, why don't you study for that history test?"

"Dean," Sam grumbled into the pillow, half-asleep.

"Get up, Sammy. I ain't kidding. You're never get into Stanford with that history grade," Dean joked, going into the bathroom to fix his hair for the tenth time.

Sam rolled his eyes, calling from the bedroom, "I don't need history smarts in Stanford!"

Once at school, Dean was exhausted. But he was too jittery to, say, fall asleep in class, or look tired. (Although he had taken a little nap in biology, but it was nothing special.)

When Castiel never showed, Dean started getting nervous. Perhaps he'd overslept? Maybe he'd had a perfectly good explanation? Maybe he was being tortured? Maybe he was sick?

Dean couldn't just stand around, though.

He skipped sixth period and the rest after that, to go see Castiel. He got in his car, too nervous for My Chemical Romance, although he did turn the radio onto a pop station- scandalous as it was- but Dean couldn't pay any attention to words. He tapped his feet the whole way there, hoping to calm his nerves. He wondered if Cas was home.

Dean pulled into the driveway, turning the car off, engine dying. Knocking on the front door, Dean started to wonder if it would have been best to call first... oh, well.

A clearly drunken, underdressed- only in a robe- man holding a half empty vodka bottle opened the door. "'Yeh?" he asked, slurring.

"I, um, I'm here to see Ca- Castiel," Anger was quickly boiling in Dean as he figured that this might be Castiel's dad. The one who beat him. He wanted to hurt him so badly.

The man grumbled and glared. "You're Dean, aren't ya?"

Dean didn't know how to answer to that. He blinked, and said slowly, "Yeah..."

The man looked angry. He wondered if he would throw a punch or something. Just in case, Dean got ready. Then he bellowed out, "Cas, come on out, you lazy faggot!"

Dean flinched, wondering if it was okay to punch this man in the face at this moment. Probably not, being out in public.

Castiel's footsteps were heard moments later from the hallway. The first thing Dean noticed about him were the bruises. He had a bruise on his forehead, and one on his cheek. Castiel was walking with a slight limp but he cheered up when he saw Dean. "Dean," he breathed.

"This little bitch who's been messaging you?" Cas's father asked indignantly. He took a swig of his vodka bottle, glaring at Castiel.

Cas nodded a little.

His father looked from Dean to Castiel, saying to Dean, "I'm Chuck. Castiel's father. Now, go on, boys. I won't have two cocksuckers in my house at the same time,"

Dean looked stunned. He gaped slightly, blinking and staring at Chuck, who was staring right back at him, defiance in his features. "Excuse me, sir?" Dean asked.

"Yeah, boy?"

"I would just like to say, on behalf of your behavior towards me, and coming from a person who knows of the abuse, I can tell Castiel has not gotten lucky tonight. So I will tell you this once and I will say it again; fuck you,"

Cas stared at him, his eyes bulging, a blush at his cheeks, nearly covering the bruise up. Instantly, Dean realized he had done something wrong. Oh Lord.

Chuck turned to Cas, disbelief written on his face. "Don't think this is over," he growled.

Castiel paled, tears brimming him his eyes. He got into Dean's car without a word, tears streaming down his face.

Dean grimaced. "Cas? I'm so sorry. I didn't mean for it to come out like-"

"It's fine, Dean," his voice wet, Castiel buckled in and Dean drove out of the driveway, flipping Chuck off as he did. Chuck only closed the door promptly and Dean knew he was taking a gulp of his vodka.

"No it's not. I'm sorry, Cas, I didn't mean for any of this to happen, and I'm sorry that you have to go through this, I'm sorry I wasn't there for you, I'm sorry he makes you feel like shit. I'm sorry I can't be enough to protect you from your dad, Cas, I'm just sorry for everything. Sorry you had to get involved with me and I'm sorry that I made things worse. Cas, I'm sorry I'm being annoying right now, alright, but I-"

Castiel moved towards him in one movement, kissing him like a hunter searching for prey, frantically, as if he were about to lose him. He grabbed Dean's jacket, pulling him towards him, no lightly. Dean moaned, sinking into the kiss. He put his hands through Cas's hair, Castiel putting his hands on Dean's hips, pulling his body towards his. Their tongues entwined and Castiel's legs went around Dean's middle, climbing into the driver's seat with him, sitting on his lap. Dean discretely reclined the seat backwards and Castiel laughed, still kissing Dean like a drowning person in need for air. He pulled away finally, when they both did indeed need air. Cas breathed heavily.

Dean sighed. "Well," he said. "If that's all I've been missing out on-" as he put his seat back up, surprised there had been no cars coming by (or perhaps they hadn't noticed.) "-Then we'd better get going quick."

Castiel laughed, smiling. "I'm good with that," he said.

Dean rolled his eyes. "Come on, lover-boy, buckle up. Safety first.