Its two hours late. The plane is two hours late.

The weather is fantastic and theres no fucking wind and its still two hours late. Half of which Deans not a whiny kid. Hes not. But it sucks that he has to move halfway across the fucking country because the douchebag his mom is dating is some hotshot baseball player now and has away games half the damn the year and its apparently not okay to leave a 16 year old home alone for any extended amount time. Okay so maybe their apprehension about leaving him alone is not unfounded and may partially be his fault but how was he to know that the microwave would die and spontaneously catch (and set the whole kitchen ablaze) if he tinkered with it a little? They should really make the wiring more resistant. So it was like Dean was only 50% at fault. Anyway, the bottom line? It sucks! But hes not douche-y enough to make mom stay back to babysit him if she wants to be elsewhere. So packs his bag, calls Sam then distracts himself with Star Trek.

Xx

Its humid. And damp and soggy and Dean feels like a fucking drowned cat. The ground is more mud than anything and his boots are making disgusting squelching sounds with every step and his dad is nowhere to be seen. Of fucking course, he isnt. He feels a vague sense of recognition as he wanders out of the airport managing to evade airport security officials droning on about minors flying alone by telling them his dads the sheriff and he will take care of it all. They believe his bullshit because its a small town and the handful of the cops working there were well-known. But atleast the airport was climate-controlled and mercifully dry because it feels like he is choking with the amount of humidity now. He wonders if he can depend on muscle memory or whatever to walk to his childhood home (its a small town, everything is within 20 minutes walking distance if you knew the right shortcuts) but one look at the drippy rainforest on the other side of the road and he abandons the plan. With all the water dripping from the canopy overhead, he was be wet and cold and fucking miserable in seconds. He fishes his cellphone from his backpack after some circus worthy acrobatic supporting his <those wheelie bag thingies??>, his camo duffel and his backpack. It turns on with the cheesy music and then shows his homescreen as his connection loads. He quickly searches for dad and presses the green call button as soon as the bars appears to the top left. The phone rings for a few seconds before he gets voicemail. Leaving a short message to his dad, he makes his way to the edge of the forest. Theres a small bench there; a guy in dark trenchcoat standing beside it. Dean ignores the guy and sinks onto the bench. He might as well sit down. Getting ready to have to wait for Dad, he fishes his headphones from his pocket and chooses a track from his playlist without really seeing. The bench is damp but Dean leans into it until he is in a lazy sprawl because he might as well be comfortable. Humming, he lazily checked out the scenery before him. To the left is the entrance to the airport and its fenced compound. After that, there are just trees and more trees. It looks pretty and Dean wishes he packed his sketchbook in his backpack. Trees and nature are not really his thing but sometimes random thing inspire him and once hes inspired, its kind of like a very bad itch that wont go away until he draws something. Dean sighs in irritation. The area is quiet except for the rustling of leaves. He closes his eyes and tries to

sleep.

Xx

Dean kind of hates Castiel. Yeah, that Castiel. Pasty white skin, weird blue eyes, [] bedhead. Popular. Rich. Teachers pet. Possibly the sweetheart of the entire school. Its kind-of disgusting how perfect he is, really. No one with enough money to drive a Porshe to school should be that good-looking. Not that Dean thinks that the weirdo is good-looking. Its just the general consensus of the high school student body. Well, Dean begs to fucking differ. Dudes just plain weird. And not hot at all. Denial is a river in Egypt. Deans hand slips from where it was propping his head up and gravity does its magic to make his face intimately acquainted with the desk. Mr. Winchester? comes the sharp voice of their Trig teacher before Dean so much as picks his head up. Dean blinks up Miss Lilith looking at him with undisguised disgust. He straightens himself from where hes slouched against the desk before he halfheartedly mumbles a Yes

Maam like the good student he most definitely isnt. Would you like to share with the class what particularly is so exasperating about integrations that you felt the need to head-desk? Uh Dean offers. Yes, I thought so. Now, maybe you could tell me what is the integration of tangent of x with respect to x? As it so happens, Dean cant. He hazards a quick look at the board at the front but Liliths handwriting is frankly shit and you had to practically tilt your head 90 degrees to make it out on a good day. He looks out of the corner of his eye to catch Jo looking completely confused so he mentally [] to being chewed out by Lilith again. He grimaces at the knowing smirk on Liliths face before starting I donLog mod sec x. -log mod sec x. Lilith makes an abortive movement before turning around with a sharp click of her shoes. Dean could tell by her shoulders that he was right

Dean is having a mid-life crisis. And hes man enough to acknowledge it. Some would argue that 16 is a little too early to have a midlife crisis but Dean point blank refuses to call it teenage angst. Teenage angst is for those hell-bent on passing high-school wearing only black and entirely way too much eye make-up while writing emo poetry about their feelings. Dean would rather sell his Baby than be counted among them. So midlife crisis it is. So heres the deal. Dean? Dean isnt gay. He likes girls. He likes their soft mouth, their smooth faces, their breasts pressing against his chest as he has his tongue down their throat. He likes vag. Period. So when hes pretty much

-----Castiel is popular. And by default way out of Deans league. If theres a book on mating rituals of high school students, it would probably have a whole chapter dedicated to why Dean shouldnt be into Cas. Cas. Ugh Besides Cas didnt even know that he existed, let alone knew his name. Dean was a nobody. A handsome nobody, but a nobody nonetheless. Maybe he should dye his hair pink like that chick

from biology. Pink hair always