cas loved walking. he liked putting in his headphones and putting his hood over his head and watching the world melt away. he liked looking at the world and hearing something else. he loved music too, any kind of music, really. he listened to classical when he painted, he listened to 70s music when he walked, he liked that lofi hip hop shit when he studied.
he put his playlist on shuffle before walking to dean's house, carrying a pint of ice cream as a gift. he was unusually excited.
his mother had been more excited, though. she had nearly fainted when cas mentioned a friend. and michael was a dick about it, but cas brushed it off. he was used to it. why, there was hardly a moment when one of the novak children weren't up to their chins in dickish behavior.
when he got to dean's house, the ice cream had partially melted and was dripping from the grocery bag, but cas didn't really care. he didn't really care about most things.
but dean greeted him with a smile, and put the ice cream in the freezer, and offered him some spaghetti.
cas began to feel even more anxious. being around dean was scary. cas found himself watching every word that came out of his mouth. he cared, and he didn't want to hurt this guy's feelings.
"cas, did you change just for me? why, there's not a speck of paint anywhere!"
cas did, in fact, change just for dean. he had on a pair of jeans and his most grandpa-looking sweater, some of the only clothes he owned without any paint on them.
"maybe," cas said bashfully.
"so, I assume you paint a lot? you should let me see it some time."
"nah," cas shook his head. "i'm not very good. what about you? what's your secret talent?"
dean looked up from his pasta. "i don't have one."
"you have to, everyone's got their thing. you... you look like the type of person who would journal."
dean laughed. "i don't journal, I'm not a freaking girl, and besides, I don't have a thing. not everyone has the resources to be talented."
cas began to feel embarrased. maybe he had overstepped his boundaries, or hurt his feelings. fuck, he knew this would happen eventually.
"how's the pasta?"
cas looked up. dean didn't give a shit about what he said, he still had that playful look in his eyes like he always did. "I see I'm in the presence of a michellin-star chef. very good, chef dean."
dean nodded and smiled. "so, physics, right? what the fuck is up with that?"
YOU ARE READING
i found a reason- destiel (high school au)
Fanficdean winchester was never much of a romantic. a flirt, sure, but anything more than a one-night stand was too much of a commitment. his family would roam around the country, a new high school every few months, a new girl, a heart broken with his goo...
