Meeting Them - Teen!Dean x Teen!Reader

First "Friends"

"A few weeks top my butt," you muttered, kicking a stone as the rusty car drove away. Usually, your dad, Bobby Singer, was pretty good at keeping his word, but not when it came to this John guy. He'd told you John had two sons, one your age and another a few years younger, but if they were anything like their dad, you wanted nothing to do with them. It was hard enough to deal with getting dumped at yet another school, but usually you had your best friend, Inara Turner to help you get through it. Nope. He just kicked you out and left. At least he'd dropped you off within a quarter mile. That was a hop, skip and a jump for you. 

Well, more like a hop. In less than five minutes, the plain brick building came into view. It was late, about 10:00, just like always, so when another car was parked outside it with two boys leaning over into the window, you were surprised. One of them leaned back away from the car and your jaw dropped open. He was drop-dead gorgeous. Abnormally so. The light was shining through his dirty blond hair, making it glow just a little more, and even from this distance, you could see his green eyes were full of danger and something a tad more fun. His smile was dazzling and each teeth was perfect. He was tall, too. He put his arm around the smaller one (presumably his little brother) and started to walk towards the school. Luckily, you were just in front of him. An idea unfolded in your head and you put it into action.

 You heard someone yell something and you tripped over your own feet. Books and papers went everywhere and a flurry of quick feet come close to you. You crouched down to gather the papers one by one. A few in, someone handed you a stack of them. Looking up, you saw the younger boy. "I'm sorry, it looked like you needed help," he said, reaching for more. "No, thank you. It's not like anyone else would have helped me. Really, thank you," you said. He looked like the boy's brother, alright. His hair was darker, a brown, and longer, too. And is eyes were hazel instead of flat out green. But the same straight teeth and nose. He was tall for his age, too. Cute in the wanna-pinch-your-cheeks way. There was only one paper left and it was out of reach of both of you. You went to grab it, but your hand collided with another hand. It was the older boy. He grabbed the paper and stood up. You followed.

"Sam, look at you fishin' for the cuties right away. I'm proud," he said with a smirk. You reached for the paper and he held it just out of reach. "Hey, jackass, give it back. I have no patience for people like you, especially on my first day at a new place. So give it back before I break every bone in your body in two places," you snapped. He might be cute, but you were still in a bad mood. The younger boy, "Sam", snickered behind you and the older one grinned as he gave you back the paper. "Dean Winchester. And who are you?" he said. You sighed internally. So these were John's kids. You wanted nothing to do with his blood. "None of your buisness, Winchester. Just leave me alone, 'kay? If you're half as bad as John is, then just stay away, sound good? Does to me," you said flatly as you stormed away towards the building. 

You heard more feet running towards you. "Wait, you know our dad?" Sam asked from beside you. You nodded and kept on. "Please. I never get friends here, and I can talk to you. I'm not like my dad, that's Dean. Can we maybe be friends?" he begged. You stopped and thought. "Sam, I don't--" you began, but he interrupted. "Never mind, I'm sorry I bothered you." You thought this over for a minute. "You don't like yourself, do you? Or this life, for that matter. You think you're a freak," you said quietly. He looked down and you bit the inside of your cheek. "Maybe you should let others finish their sentence. I was going to say, 'Sam, I don't think I couldn't be your friend.' Hey, why don't you meet me out here at the end of today. Bring your jerk of a brother if you insist," you compromised. His smile covered his face and he ran back to Dean. You chuckled at the kids joy and then went inside to get your schedule. 

Apparently, new kids in the same grade are saddled together. For every class. All day. You rubbed the back of your neck and groaned in exasperation. "Come on, I'm not that bad. I can be good to you," he whispered in your ear. You turned around and shoved him away. "I am not another toy for you, Winchester," you snarled. Walking to a chair across the room, you sank into it and waited for the lady behind the desk to bring you your books. It only took another moment and she brought them. A stack in front of you and a stack in front of Dean. You took your and went to the door. Dean followed you empty handed. "Dean, why don't you have your books?" you asked. "I won't be here long enough. A few days, at most," he stated, shoving his hands in the pockets of an oversized leather jacket. "Moron, Dad said a few weeks. Your dad doesn't know squat. Now go get your books. I'm already saddled with an idiot, don't make said idiot look like a cocky idiot. You can be smart about this," you whisper-yelled. He rolled his eyes and dramatically turned to get his books. You opened the door and he came out grumpily. "You're fine," you said. You walked down the quiet hallway. Well, it was quiet until Dean started humming Van Halen. You threw your head back and took a deep breath in. 

"Angels help me to not stab him in the face with a spoon."