Leather And Letterman Jackets- Destiel AU

If You Want Blood (You've Got It)

   I'm not gay. I'm not gay. I repeat the mantra in my head all during school the next day. I ignore Castiel during English. I don't turn around to watch him at lunch.
I'm not gay.
   It's the last class of the day and I'm impatient, desperate to escape the small room. I tap my pencil against the desk as the teacher continues to ramble on. Finally last bell rings and I dart out.
   "Dean!" Benny flings his arm around my shoulders. "I'm gonna walk you to the locker rooms, brother."
  "Alright." I don't know why but he's walked with me the past few days.
   "Listen, I don't mean to pry, but what's up with you and Novak?"
    I freeze. How did Benny find out?
  "Castiel? Nothing." He flirts with me and kissed me and I might be having gay thoughts about him.
   Benny looks suspicious like he knows I'm not telling the whole truth. "Alright, another time then." We're at the locker room by now and I'm grateful for the escape from Benny's questions and knowing looks.
   I change into my uniform quickly. The atmosphere in the room is comforting. The sounds of slamming lockers and loud talking. Even the smell of stale sweat is welcoming.
   Once everyone's dressed we head out to the field. Practice begins with warmups: suicides and lunges across the field. I hate warmups, they're worse than actual practice.
(I have no clue what goes on in football practice or games...)
   We're gathered in the middle of the field, out of breath. I notice a figure standing by the bleachers.
   Thick cigarette smoke surrounds them. I realize it's Castiel. It seems like he follows me everywhere and I'm going to do something about it.

   "Hey Dean?" I look up from the skin mag I was reading. Sam's standing in the doorway of my room.
   "Yeah?" Sam doesn't come to my room very often anymore so I'm immediately concerned.
   "I asked Jess out. She said yes."
   "That's great Sammy!" He doesn't look happy through. He's drooping, eyes sad and a small frown on his face. "So what's wrong?"
   "I don't know," He sighs. "I should be ecstatic but I feel guilty and like I'm settling, which is weird cause Jess is hot."
   I'm pretty sure I know what's happening.
   "Sam you feel guilty asking Jess out cause you know Gabriel likes you." Sam's eyebrows knit together in confusion.
   "Really?" I shrug.
"Probably. Subconsciously you know you're hurting Gabe so your subconscious is making you feel guilt to get you to dump Jess in order to protect him." Sam just stares at me.
   "Right..." He slowly backs out of my room. "Thanks Dean."
  I wave him out. "Anytime pal." I go back to reading my magazine, not really focusing on it.
   Why did Sammy feel so guilty? The reason I gave was pure bullshit. Did Sammy return Gabriel's feelings?
   The front door opens with a loud creak. I jump out of bed and hurry downstairs, swinging on the banister. What if dad's drunk?
   Dad's in the entry way holding a carryout pizza.
   "Hey Dean. You and Sammy hungry?"
   I move cautiously towards him. What's he getting at?
   "Dean, I'm not going to bite. C'mon pizza's getting cold."
   We sat awkwardly around the table. I can't remember the last time we ate dinner together. 
   "So how's school?" I also can't remember the last time he asked is that question.
  Sam's the first to speak, "Pretty good. I've got all A's, a group of friends and a date Saturday."
   Dad smiles. He actually smiles. "Good for you Sammy. Dean?" I shrug. I still don't trust his good mood. He could snap at any given moment.
   "Fine. My first game's Friday."
  "You're on the football team?" I nod. You'd know that if you were ever around.
  "His girlfriend's one of the cheerleaders," Sam offers.
   "You have a girlfriend?" I nod. "Serious one?"
   "Yeah." I take a bite of pizza. "Her name's Lisa. She's pretty cool," I say around my food.
   "Nice."

    I knew the good mood was too good to be true. Dad leaves after we eat, promising to be home soon. It's close to three when he gets home. I'm in the middle of a dream about Castiel dressed as a cheerleader when the sound of a door slamming shut wakes me up.
   A hand roughly yanks me out of bed.
   "Dad?" I ask groggily. Dad throws me against the wall. That wakes me up quickly. "What the hell?"
   Dad leans in closely, his arm on my chest pinning me against the wall. I smell whiskey on his breath.
   "Dad, you're drunk." My face stings where he slaps me.
  "Shut up! You're a disgrace you know that?!" He hits me again. My eyes water up.
  "Bastard! You do nothing! Worth nothing!" Each word he lands another punch to my face. "Your mother would be disappointed in you!" He releases me and I drop to the ground. He kicks me in the stomach twice and spits on me.
  He leaves me lying on the ground. Blood mixed with tears as I lie in pain. This is one of the worst beatings Dad's given me. I lie there about ten minutes before I force myself to stand. I touch my face, wincing in pain.
  I stumble to the bathroom. I glare in the mirror at my bloody face. My lip is busted, and there's a cut over my eye. I can tell there'll be bruises tomorrow. I lift up my shirt, groaning at the dark spots littering my torso. I pole one finger against a rib.
   Damn that hurt. My guess is a broken rib. I pull my shirt off over head and throw it to the floor. I strip the rest of the way and get in the shower. I turn the hot water on all the way and relish the warmth washing away the blood.

My face is covered in bruises the next morning. I can't let Sammy see, but I don't have another choice. I groan and pop a couple painkillers as Sam's footsteps thud down the stairs.
   "Hey what's for break- Dean! Did John do that?"
  I crack a smile even though it hurt like a bitch. "No, a ninja broke in. I had to fight him off."
  Sam sighs. "Dean."
  "It's fine Sammy. I'm fine." I hold out a plate. "Eggs?"