Fights, Camera, Action

Chapter Sixteen

Dean felt like time had stopped all around him for the second time in a week. This had to be some kind of cosmic fucking karma. First one of his best friends dies, and then he gets outed by the paparazzi because he was kissing a guy he can hardly stand half the time. This was getting fucking ridiculous at this point.

Finally snapping out of it, he saw Castiel still staring out at the window with that stupid fucking look on his face. Dean knew it wasn't fair, but he was pissed at Castiel. Why did the asshole have to come over here? God, he needed to go, right then. Before Dean decided to kick his ass.

"Get out," Dean whispered, and Cas turned his head to look at him, confusion written all over his features. He started to ask a question, but Dean spoke over him, louder and anger beginning to crawl into his voice. "I said, get out."

Looking like he'd been hit, Cas stepped back, expression fading into one of sad understanding. Fuck him for thinking he knew what Dean was feeling, what he thought. Dean stepped forward, slamming his hands on Novak's chest and screaming at him.

"Get out! Get the fuck out!" He screamed, and Novak backed up quickly, darting out the door and slamming it behind him.

Dean sank to the floor, back against the wall, and just stared at the door. What was he supposed to do now? It would be all over the internet within the day, possibly within a few hours. It wasn't like he could deny it. It was him, in his house. With Novak, of all people he could have been fucking caught with. Dean groaned, putting his head in his hands and yelling to no one for a moment. God, what had he done to deserve this?

After what felt like hours but couldn't have been more than five minutes, Dean stood and went back upstairs, not bothering to check if his door was locked. He found that he didn't give a shit if someone wanted to try to break in today. It would be the least of his problems. Shaking his head, he wandered over to the living area and plopped down onto the couch he'd been practically living on since he had heard the news about Jess. Jess would have known what to do, how to help him.

The thought had his eyes watering and throat closing up, and he swore as he started to cry again. Looking up at the ceiling, he gulped and tried to blink away the tears with little success. Why did everything have to fall apart at once? He hadn't even gotten a chance to recover from Jess's death and now this, something he desperately wished she were still here to help him with. He let out a laugh that was more of a sob, the irony of it all hitting him at once.

Before he could wallow in self pity any more, he felt his phone ringing in his pocket and quickly picked it up, trying to calm his voice before answering. Accepting the call, he held it up to his face and took a deep breath.

"Hello?" He said quietly, and he heard a sigh of relief on the other end that could only belong to Charlie. Glad it wasn't Novak, he let out a sigh of his own.

"Oh, thank god. Dean, we're coming over," she said, and he was about to ask who else was coming when he heard Sam murmur in the background. He stayed silent as she continued. "We got a suspicious text from Novak. He said that you might need us soon, so we're coming. Make sure your door is unlocked." And with that, she hung up on him.

Shaking his head, Dean didn't move, knowing that he hadn't bothered to lock the door. What the fuck was Novak's deal? It's not like he was his fucking boyfriend, so why was he sending Dean's friends to check on him after being told to leave? Groaning in frustration, Dean ran his hands down his face roughly, something that was becoming a bit of a habit these days. Standing, he decided to get himself a pop from the fridge while he waited for his impromptu guests.

After getting one and sitting back down, he simply sat there for a good half hour. Traffic was probably bad at this time, so the troops might not arrive for another fifteen minutes. Deciding that he should check online and see what the damages were, he opened his phone. Taking a breath to prepare, he opened social media.

Immediately, he was met with the beginnings of the chaos. There weren't any official articles yet, but the rumors had spread into full swing, and despite all hopes, the picture had begun to spread like fire. A joyful hashtag by the name of #GayDeanWinchester had already started, and Dean wanted to fucking scream. Putting his phone down, he realized that his hands were so tightly clenched that he had begun to crush his can. Setting it down as well, he was saved from his thoughts by the sound of his door opening downstairs.

Within moments, Charlie was flying through the door to the stairs, Sam slightly behind her. Both of them wore expressions of worry, Charlie's tinged with something that looked like rage. So clearly, they had also seen what had happened.

Sitting down next to Dean, Charlie have Dean a tight hug while Sam ambled over and sat on Dean's other side. Leaning back from the hug to look at Charlie, he became positive that the other emotion in her eyes was rage. He didn't have to wonder at why for much longer, either.

"What the fuck is wrong with them? They come onto your property, take a picture of a private moment of yours, and then out you online? What the fuck is their problem?" She raved, shaking her head as her mouth twisted.

Turning to Dean again, her face softened slightly. Before she could say anything, though, Sam had put a hand on Dean's arm. He turned to look at Sam, who just gave him a reassuring look.

"We're here for you, Dean, whether you like it or not. You don't have to figure this out by yourself," he said. Dean managed to shoot him a small, grateful smile before turning to stare at the ceiling and let out a huff. Charlie was right, this was fucking bullshit. He said as much, and Charlie nodded.

"I'm fucking posting something about this situation, just to tell people that they're pieces of shit for this," she resolved, and Dean gave a slight nod of approval.

Without hesitation, Charlie whipped her phone out and posted something nothing less than scalding about invading his privacy and outing someone, especially when he's already having a hard enough time. Within moments, Dean realizes that Sam is doing the same. Looking at both of them, he gives them a weak grin.

"You guys are assholes, but you're helpful assholes," he teases, and Sam snorts. It's the first time Dean's heard him laugh since Jess, and he can't deny that the sound is a welcome one.

They sit in comfortable silence for a little while, just settled on Dean's couch. After about ten minutes, however, Charlie breaks that silence rather suddenly.

"Holy shit, dude," she says, glancing down at her phone before looking up at Dean. "People are flooding the tag with unrelated stuff and agreeing that it's a massive invasion of privacy. Look, you can barely find a picture in the tags already."

Dean glanced at her outstretched phone and saw that, yes, she was right. People had begun using the tag for unrelated things or for shredding the people sharing the picture. The relief that he felt at that was instantaneous. Not only did people not hate him for this, they were as fucking outraged by his being outed as his own friends were. It was a lot more encouraging than he had hoped for, honestly.

He was jolted from his thoughts by Sam nudging him and handing him his phone. He raised an eyebrow at Sam, who answered quickly.

"Dude, just... look," he said, and Dean shook his head as he did.

It was a post of Novak's, one that had explicitly told people to flood the tags with other things if they respected Dean's privacy. Obviously, Castiel was already out, so it wasn't him who needed this shield. Dean wasn't sure how to feel about this. Castiel had gone out of his way to try to save Dean from this before it got too out of hand, and he clearly didn't have to. Handing Sam's phone back, he bit the inside of his cheek nervously. Picking up his own phone, he saw that he had one missed text.

Novak: I'm sorry. I'm trying to fix this.