Tipping the Hourglass

Prologue

Senior year. Last day of school. 2003.

His last chance.

To be frank, he'd been considering this for the last two and a half years, ever since that fateful day when he and Dean Winchester had ended up as partners for their sophomore year's biology project. Dean hadn't been much help and Cas had done almost all the work, but that was neither here nor there at this point. Fact was, that was the first time Cas had been given the chance to talk privately with the football star. Generally he didn't get to affiliate himself with such people.

Dean hadn't been that bad actually. Not horrible and jerkish like Cas had expected. He'd been upfront about the fact that he had no intention of helping with the project and had from there been generally civil. And been so ever since.

He was the only popular guy, in fact, that didn't outright bully Cas whenever they had the chance. Sure, he stood there and laughed occasionally, but he didn't actually participate, which, when you were the biggest loser in school, kind of said something.

Cas was aware that he wasn't the type people would generally want to be affiliated with. He was short, acne spotted, and, well, he should probably wash his hair more often. Add his healthy dose of his social inadequacies and he could kind of understand. In the case of Dean, he was even forgiving.

Because at least Dean wasn't the one throwing things at him in the hallway. Sometimes, when no one else was around, he was even nice. In that gruff and tumble way that Dean could be nice.

But now things were different. They were seniors, graduating, and high school would soon be a forgotten memory. Which was why Cas wasn't going to hide the truth anymore. He was determined to be honest about his feelings, about Dean, and he wasn't going to be a coward.

Life was coming at him fast and he just… had to get it all off his chest.

Which was why, as he approached that big house on the corner of Kraven and East, he ran his hand nervously through his black hair. He'd tried to dress nice, because he knew people like Dean valued that sort of thing. He'd put on his best button-up and the pair of gray slacks he always wore to church.

For Dean, he was trying. He was trying his best.

Taking a deep breath, he climbed the few stairs that led up to the house before, hand shaking, pulling his fist upwards and knocking disjointedly on the door.

There was no turning back now.

Some few seconds later, he heard someone behind the wall and soon the door was opened to him. It wasn't Dean that answered however, but Sam, his younger brother. Tall already and he was only in middle school. While Cas as still hoping he was a late bloomer and would hit a growth spurt in college.

Those were the sorts of things people like Dean cared about, right?

"Uh, hey," Sam stated, looking Cas up and down. "Are you… here for Dean?" He cocked a skeptical brow, his young voice seeming odd coming out of such a tall body. But he was pretty gangly, so perhaps that made up for it.

"Uh, yes," Cas replied stiffly. "I just want to speak with him."

"Sure," Sam stepped aside. "He's upstairs." Nodding, Cas cursed the way his voice cracked before making his way toward the stairs. It was funny actually, how well he knew this big house from the few days he'd spent there after school, working on that biology project.

He knew Dean's room was on the right. The last door.

He tried to keep his breathing under control.

Reaching the correct door, he knocked, uncertain whether it would be appropriate to simply enter or not.

"C'min," Dean's deep voice echoed out to him. "You're early."

He was expecting someone else.

"I'm not… who you think I am," Cas said through the door, his stomach tying in knots. He didn't get an immediate response. Rather, he heard the sound of bedsprings, like someone was getting up, before the bedroom door was pulled open.

And there stood Dean.

He was a broad person, muscular, but Cas also found him to be absolutely beautiful. He had a more feminine face actually, model-like almost, and his hair was spiked up in the front. He sported a pair of old, faded jeans, which didn't hide how bow-legged he was, and a black t-shirt.

He had a curious look on his face.

"Cas?" he said his name with surprise, those green eyes looking him up and down. Cas, however, was momentarily struck remembering the fact that Dean had been the first one to ever call him that. Dean was notorious for giving nicknames to everyone and Cas had never heard his name the same after the shortened version had left those perfect lips. "What… what are you doing here?" He was suspicious.

"I know this is weird," Cas replied, his eyes darting to the side nervously. "I just needed to speak with you. Before graduation." He tried to put emotion into his voice, but failed. Instead, it came out flat and one-noted. Like always.

"Oh," Dean's eyebrows rose, surprise still plastered across his young face. Eventually he just shrugged however, not on guard against Cas's loserdom when no one else was around. "Okay," he stepped back. "Come in I guess."

And ever so slowly, Cas did. He couldn't hide the way his eyes darted around, his shoulders hunched with nerves. And had he been paying attention, he'd have seen the way an amused smirk had lifted one side of Dean's lips.

"So, what can I do for you?" Dean asked once Cas was all the way in. He closed the door behind them, green eyes trained on Cas as he made his way over to his desk and placed himself in the computer chair there. He gestured for Cas to sit down on the bed, which he did after a few second's deliberation.

"I didn't mean to intrude," Cas muttered, his hands folding in his lap nervously. Dean's smirk became a bigger grin.

"You're not," Dean assured easily. "I'm just waiting for some friends is all."

"I see…" Cas took a deep breath. "I'll try not to take up too much of your time then."

"Sure…" Dean actually chuckled a little then, but Cas didn't hear it over the sound of his own anxiety.

"I came here because there's something I want to tell you," he started, his voice only somewhat shaky. "I've wanted to tell you for a long time actually." Dean raised his eyebrows questioningly. "And I figured that, since we're graduating, it couldn't hurt to be honest."

"Is this going to be one of those 'I hate you' speeches that the nerds always tell the jocks in the movies at the end to get some kind of revenge?" Dean was abruptly suspicious. "Because if it is, I'm so not cool with that."

"It's not," Cas assured quickly, his blue eyes wide as he shook his head. Dean nodded then, silent and seemingly content to let the conversation continue. "It's quite the opposite actually."

Those green eyes narrowed.

"Do you remember that biology project we did during sophomore year?"

"Sure…"

"It started then and I… I just want you to know the truth. I don't want to hide it anymore." Cas took a deep, steadying breath, closing his eyes momentarily. He gathered his thoughts, put them in order, and was thankful that Dean remained silent while he did so.

But it didn't matter what words he considered, there was only one way to say it.

He just had to get it over with.

"I…" Cas opened his eyes again, catching Dean's. "I'm in love with you."

There, he'd said it.

And was given silence in return.

At first, it almost seemed like Dean hadn't understood what he'd said. Those big, pretty green eyes narrowed further, his mouth falling open slightly. He stared at Cas as if the words were taking an extra long time to sink into his skull. Like there was some kind of language barrier between them.

But it had to get through eventually.

Standing abruptly, Dean nearly knocked his chair backward into the desk as he did. Cas jumped, but didn't get up from the bed. Rather, somewhat fearfully, he stared up at the muscular jock, uncertain what he should do or say.

"I'm not gay," Dean immediately claimed, though Cas couldn't say he'd expected anything more. He'd just wanted to be honest. One of those things that if he didn't get it off his chest before he left, he'd regret it forever.

"I know that," Cas replied quietly. "I just wanted-"

"Then why are you telling me this?!" Dean asked harshly, Cas nearly shying away from him. "Why are you even saying anything? You should have kept this to yourself!" Still his reaction didn't shock Cas. They'd grown up in a small Kansas town. People being uncomfortable with the thought of homosexuality wasn't exactly new.

"I wasn't trying to make you uncomfortable. I was jus-"

"Uncomfortable?!" Dean was extremely pale, those green eyes wide, and Cas wondered if perhaps he should have just forgotten the whole thing. "You think that you coming into my house and telling me that you're… What was even the point? I'm not… I'm not a fag so I don't know what you thought you were accomplishing!"

"You're right," Cas agreed suddenly, Dean still visibly keeping his space. "I shouldn't have said anything." Because he was a "fag." A fag that lived in a small town with narrow-minded people that raised narrow-minded children. He'd known he'd have been hoping for the impossible if he'd considered that Dean would return his feelings, so he hadn't allowed himself that luxury. But he hadn't imagined it totally farfetched that the other boy would be open-minded.

Maybe it was just time he took his faggy self and left this podunk town.

He was going to make something of himself.

And he was never going to come back.

Dean and his family could keep their prejudices and their labels and their ignorance. First loves were never meant to be.

"I'll leave," Cas stood up suddenly. "I know we don't know each other that well, and you probably hate me for what I told you," Dean was still staring at him with those wide, anxious green eyes. "But you don't have to worry about it anymore. I just wanted to tell you to get it off my chest. I'm going to school and I'm never coming back, so we'll never see each other again.

"Don't worry about me dampening your life anymore with my faggy tendencies."

Pausing to stare at Dean for just a little longer, he eventually had to rip his gaze away and walk to the door. And the whole way he could feel his heart breaking. He'd known this would happen. That he'd be rejected. But still it hurt. Still it stabbed him all over and fisted his lungs until he felt like he'd never be able to breathe again.

Never be able to feel anything but the pain.

And so he left the Winchester house. He walked out Dean's door, down the stairs, and out into the sunlight. He went home, he planned his future, and he never turned his head over his shoulder to look back.

He never saw the way those green eyes watched him, sunk with confusion and apprehension.

How they flowed with doubt.