Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Castiel had decided not to start his last year of high school out as he did the previous.

Last year a new student started at the school. Seeing as it was a boarding school it was not unusual that someone would get in in the middle of his high school years, but this guy was unusual. At least to Castiel he was, but having spent the whole summer at a Bible Camp as a kind of bizarre punishment for his lack of faith and respect for the virtues of the Christian life, he supposed that any good looking guy would haul him right back and away from his virtuous path of righteousness. Well, what did they expect from a teenage boy?

His name was Dean. Winchester, he should say. They always only used last names here, but in the sweet shadows of the night tucked away under the blanket he called him Dean in his mind. He spent a lot of time behind his locked door to his dorm in the beginning of the school year and he blamed the Bible Camp for that. Dean hadn’t really found his ways into the school and to friends just yet, though all the girls found him annoyingly interesting. Castiel couldn’t stop staring at those broad shoulders and blond hair when they past each other in the hall ways or when they shared a class. And sometimes – only once in a while, but it was the best days - those green eyes found their way in his direction and he got lost there and couldn’t look away till the other boy broke the eye contact. Those were the days Castiel found himself practically running out of the cafeteria escaping Balthazar with excuses as lame as the need to study alone tonight or unusual tiredness and locked himself in his dorm room, falling directly into the bed, landing on his back. Most times he didn’t even get his dress trousers of before his hand plunged into his pants, stroking himself to imaginary touches of a boy he hadn’t even talked to but only watched from a distance. Beautiful green eyes, freckled nose and broad arms filled his fantasy behind closed eyes. Oh God, how could he ever resist. Screw Bible Camp. Screw his family legacy. In those early September afternoons it was always quick work but he came hard every time with Deans name on his lips.

It didn’t take long, however, before Dean had tried out for the football team and was instantly accepted by the captain MacLeod, who made him a kind of second-in-command with whatever that entailed. They were loud and annoying in the hallways, pushing other students around when they felt like it and got out drinking on the weekends. On especially good game nights they didn’t wait for the weekends to come around. Castiel still liked to watch him from the opposite end of a crowded cafeteria though. He honestly did try not to zoom out of the conversations with Balthazar, who tried equally as hard to keep him in the present by snapping his fingers in front of his head every time he saw Cas’s mind turn to a different dimension. It hadn’t really made Dean less attractive that he turned out to be a douche. Sadly. On really good days Dean was still smiling from the conversation with his teammates that he just tuned out of when he caught his eye. On those days Dean quickly turned away like he didn’t even notice the sudden eye contact between them. Cas himself doubted those moments sometimes. On the really bad days, their eyes meet and the smile on Dean’s lips would fade way. Those were the days the gaze was held longer, but there were no joy in it at all. And slowly Lafitte, Walker and the other guys in Dean’s crowd started to notice the frequent stares as well.

Within a couple of months both Castiel’s and Balthazar’s dorm doors were frequently covered with words of less intelligent people with permanent markers. Coming from a family of highly religious people words like “faggot” couldn’t really make him flinch and “Jesus freak” was just silly. It only ever made him sigh and make a mental note to contact the janitor again. Later on it became more and more aggressive and getting pushed into things in the corridors sometimes left marks on his skin.

The last day before school was out for the summer he went to the football field in the early morning only armed with a book, to watch the last football practice. He sat high on the stand not too far away from other bystanders gathered there, wanting not to attract himself any attention from the players, but far enough away that the other students didn’t seem to notice him either. The book was his shield. He knew that if he sat there reading, no one would notice or care for his presence. The players were already out in the field working through exercises. Cas didn’t really have a uniform kink or anything like that. He didn’t come there to look at bare legs and toned torsos in the morning sun. He had gone to school with most of the boys down there for a couple of years, and had realized that there really was truth the whole “it’s what’s on the inside that counts”. At least when it came to how awful these guys were behind their toned skin and defined muscles. He didn’t find anyone out there attractive even though most of the girls would be proud to present any of those boys as prom dates. Well… maybe he found one of them attractive.

Captain MacLeod had had to step down because of injury last winter and Dean had quickly been elected as the new captain. When they first started playing Dean seamed proud in his uniform. He moved fast and he was good. Castiel didn’t really care much for the game, but he could tell anyway. And of course he starred at him. Dean’s uniform clad body was soon covered in grass and dirt caused by the slippery grass, wet from morning dew. Whenever Dean turned in the direction of the stand, Castiel was ready to cover himself behind the book, shining with disinterest.

As the game evolved, Castiel conluded, that he might be able to learn a lot about Dean's person by watching him play. He obviously had fun, especially those times when the ball was sent to him by Benny Lafitte before he scored. Castiel was almost ready to stand up and cheer but remembered the no-one-is-supposed-to-notice-I’m-here plan and got his book back in his hands. Then Walker tackled Dean to the ground and after that he seemed almost vindictive to get back at him. By the end of the training Dean was the high scorer, made Walker faceplant and even though he was soaked, he had a huge smile on his face. He obviously loves the game, Castiel thought kind of happy for him.

Dean went towards the entrance to the locker rooms beside the stand, one ball under his arm. Lafitte caught up with him and slung an arm around his neck laughing and cheering for the school year finally being over. Dean laughed with him, padding him on his back and turned his head in Cas’ direction. Castiel froze when their eyes meet. It was too late to take cover behind American History now. Dean still smiled and for a second Cas dared thinking it was for him. Just this once. The smile slowly faded as if Dean just then realized the eye contact. He didn’t tear his eyes away though. Not before they were at the entrance to the locker rooms and Lafitte still loudly proclaiming all the pool parties he was going to crash this summer.

Castiel took a huge sip of air, first then realizing, that he had held his breath. He waited till most of the crowd had cleared out before he took his book and his coat and slung it over his arm and turned down the stairs and inside the corridor to the dorms. Most students had gone to breakfast or was enjoying there last day at the school in the common room with there friends. Castiel wondered where Balthazar might be. For a moment he considered texting him but decided against it. Cas didn't want to explain himself. There were just some things, Balthazar wouldn't understand even though they were rather close by now. He knew he was kind of pathetic. He hadn't even spoken to Dean who had always been a bystander when the other guys came on to Castiel in the hallwys. Well, he probably wouldn’t even like him if they did speak. To be honest, he didn’t really want to talk to him. He was afraid it would ruin this perfect fantasy he had where Dean wasn’t really part of the football team, but only playing the game. Cas just wanted his fantasy and being able to fuel his wet dreams with a bit of morning dew and drenched shorts once in a while. This was his summer gift to himself. Now he would have something that felt great when he had to go back to his cold and shadowed family. He liked that thought. And he decided not to think about that faded smile that clenched to his stomach like wet cloth.

Caught in his own thoughts he didn’t notice that the halls had gone all empty – not even when a pair of rapid footsteps emerged and he suddenly was tackled to the floor face first.

“Get up!”

The voice was repressed and hissed. Not loud, obviously not wanting to attract unnecessary attention from the dorm rooms on either side of the corridor. Oh, Castiel had tried this way to many times before and he really didn’t care much for it right now. He just wanted to get the punch over and done with so he could get back to his room and get packed.

He got to his knees but was apparently to slow. A strong hand gripped his collar and hauled him from the floor and into the wall.

“Get the fuck up!”

The brickwall hurt in his back but was all but forgotten, when Castiel stood nose to nose with none other than Dean Winchester himself. Castiel forgot how to breathe.

“Why are you following me, huh?” Dean’s voice was still repressed and rough. Cas couldn’t see or hear anyone with him which made him wonder if he was harassing him or honestly asking him. He decided not to move if he didn’t want a new bruise to show off.

Dean waited for an answer but when nothing came he went on. “You are always staring at me. Why?" Still no answer. Castiel decided to stay as calm as possible, inhaling deep breaths through his nose.

"You know what, fuck it! Just quit it, man! I don’t even know you.”

Cas became more and more sure that he asked because it actually puzzled him. That’s kind of cute. No, stop it! Dean’s grip was still tight around his collar and his face was an inch from his own.

“Sorry,” Cas got out flat. It sounded more indifferent than he had thought he could manage.

Dean didn’t react to that. He just looked Castiel straight in the eyes. Castiel slowly stopped being afraid of the other boy and slowly became more curious. Those green eyes didn’t really hold any fury but something else. He couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but they were different. In some odd way they seemed purer than any eyes he had ever had the fortune to see this close. He was so close, that Cas could count every freckle on his nose. He could smell the dew and dirt in his damp hair. He could see every pore - any false and every perfection. He could feel Dean’s breath on his skin. It occurred to Cas that he had had this dream a million times before, though the scenario may have been a bit different. Wondering what Dean’s skin would feel like beneath his fingertips, something started to stir in his hands. Cas let his eyes find back to Dean’s. Dean was looking at his face like searching for an answer to Castiel’s stillness, still keeping his hands on Cas’s collar. Cas let his eyes drop to his mouth. It had a beautiful shape and shade of dark pink.  The grip in his collar slowly loosened. Dean clenched his jaw and swallowed once.

The hallway door jumped open at the end of the corridor and slammed into the wall. Dean pushed himself away from Cas while pushing Cas further into the wall. Yep, this was definitely going to leave bruises.

“What the fuck is wrong with you, asswipe?” he spat at Cas. “Leave. Me...” He rapidly stepped towards Castiel and hit a clenched fist hard in his ribs. “Alone!”

Castiel fell to his knees having got all his breath knocked out of him. He heard loud laughs coming from some of the footballers getting back from the showers and through the door. He didn’t see the girl come running to yank Dean out of the way and punching him on the shoulder, but he heard that she definitely wasn’t laughing.

“Dean, what the fuck are you thinking? You’re so freaking close to getting kicked outta here! Think about your parents. Think about your brother!”

Dean yanked away from her. “Dammit, Jo! Leave me alone!” he said in a low hollow voice before he ran off and joined his teammates walking towards the cafeteria. She sighed.

Castiel rolled to his back laying on the floor. He turned his head just in time to see a blond ponytail bounce off at the end of the corridor rounding the corner. He lay there for a while, staring up onto the ceiling.

This was the moment Castiel decided not to start his last year of high school out as he did the previous. This year he was absolutely not going to fantasize in any inappropriate way about Dean. Winchester. He has to say Winchester.

Chapter Text

A hand knocked hard on the door to Dean’s dorm room and startled him.

“Dean, get outta there. You gotta have some breakfast before you are going in to battle the devil.” Jo’s voice was kind but firm.

Dean sat up on his bed and ran a hand through his hair. A dim light was crawling through the corners of his drawn blinds, that otherwise lay the room in darkness. Dean appreciated it for a moment. He almost hadn’t slept tonight, but thankfully he hadn’t been drunk enough to stay wasted or having a hangover. He had just been lying there and thinking of excuses not to get out of his room today. He had tried to get up, and got dressed but decided against leaving the room.

“I’m sick, Jo. See ya later.” He answered her lamely, hoping she would get the not-really implication for her to leave.

To be fair he felt kind of sick. His stomach ached. It started showing up about a week ago before school started after the summer. It always appeared whenever he thought of going back to school. His mother was sure it was from excitement but Dean begged the differ. He couldn’t say that to his mother, having worked her butt of to afford both Dean and Sam into that school and he had decided not to talk to his farther or his brother about it for two very different reasons.

Jo slammed a hand against the door. “Dean, come on out or I’ll come in!”

Dean smiled and shook his head at her. “It’s locked, you moron.”

“Don’t think that will stop me!”

Of course it wouldn’t. When this crazy bitch first had decided on something she was pretty damn persistent. He got up and unlocked the door, to avoid any serious damages to it. It jumped open nearly hiding him in the face. Jo looked annoyed at him. “What took you so long? You’re even dressed and everything!”

“Would you have come in here if I wasn’t?” Dean smiled cocky but turned away to the small desk by the window, smile gone.

“Oh please. You don’t have anything I haven’t seen before. Litteraly.” Dean, starring out of the window, could only imagine, the wrinkle on her nose, trying to hide a smile thinking of the childhood memories of herself, Dean and Sam and a sprinkler in the garden of the Winchester house on particularly hot summer days. They were all very grown up now and far away from those days. He started fiddling with a paperclip on the desk. He wasn’t really a happy kid anymore. Neither of them were. Jo continued, “You okay? You were kind of boring last night.”

Dean had known Jo for way to many years. It was honestly getting kind of annoying that she seemed to be able to read his mind by now.

She walked to the desk, drew back the curtain to a rainy Monday morning, ironicaly fitting to Dean’s first day back at school, he thought. She turned around, leaning on the desk, facing him, while he never moved his gaze from the window in front of him.

“I just didn’t really feel like celebrating getting back here”, he said without moving his gaze away from the raindrops running down the outside of his windows, gliding together down the way.

“Okay… is this about that meeting with the headmistress later? It’s just about detention, Dean, it’s not like it’s the first time.”

“No. Not exactly…” Dean’s voice trailed off. He looked down at the paperclip between his fingers.

Jo fell silent. “The guy, then?” she asked quietly more stating than asking.

Dean swallowed hard. The stomachache was back like had he taken a punch right there and then. He really had avoided thinking about it. That dude. Dammit, back then he was just there all the freaking time. It had been kind of scary not being able to turn around without finding blue eyes and dark gaze starring at you, when you were trying to live your own life. The gaze always seemed so judgmental if not curious, which he had no right to be. He didn’t know him! So yeah, he had freaked out and thrown him a punch just to give him a lesson and yeah… he did hate it the second it was done, which was why he had run away. Even from Jo. It was an act on impulse. He couldn’t look her in the eye - much less that guy now. But he didn’t really have a choice now, did he? He was back and that dude probably was too, and if he knew him the slightest bit, he would have those eyes lingering on him as soon as they were in the same room. He hadn’t wanted it to be this way, but that guy made it pretty damn hard. He should have seen it coming.

Jo lost her patience and got up. “Dammit Dean, if you are having such a hard time about it just tell him!”

He turned his head to look at her walking towards the door. He snorted at her. “I’m not gonna apologize to him!”

“Oh, get a grip, man. What did he ever do to your sorry ass, huh?”

“He…” Dean trailed off. He could already hear how it sounded. He starred at me! which was true but also pretty freaking innocent. Not usually what you beat guys up for. But then again he had heard of Gordon assaulting people for less when he was hammered. Maybe he was just hanging with the wrong crowd. Wow, his parents lecturing really had gotten to him over the summer. Since they got the note with Dean’s second warning after that other lanky Jesus-loving kid had called a teacher after reportedly finding the starring-dude still lying on the floor, his dad hadn’t shut up about it for weeks and his mother had tried to talk to him, like he had needed a shrink. There was nothing wrong with him. And Dean was sure he hadn’t punched that hard. Especially not after that weird-ass staring competition that had been going on between them.

“He’s really weird…” he commented solemnly, not noticing he was thinking out loud till it was already out there.

“Wow, genius. Breakfast! Now!”

---

Dean felt like he had crawled alongside the walls all the way from the dorms to the cafeteria while Jo had pulled him along by his sleeve. She let go of him when they turned the corner facing the cafeteria already filled up with tired students and happy reunited mumbling.

Dean stopped in the doorway taking a deep breath, pulling himself together, and decided to face the unavoidable. I’m a Winchester, not a pussy! He scanned the crowd, his gaze immediately knowing where to look. In the far back of the cafeteria, he instantly caught the outline of a boy sitting with his back to him. He knew that outline by heart having sat a couple of rows behind him in history and English all last year. He had watched him as he tensed up every time one of his teammates went past him and watched as he started relaxing when they were gone or his lanky friend moved closer to him. It clenched a bit in Dean’s stomach whenever he watched that. He even swore he could see the pride in the muscles in the back of his neck beneath that seemingly unruly dark hair of his, whenever he answered a question correctly, though he never seemed to gloat. Still, Dean mentally noted, the guy had never been sitting turned away from him in the cafeteria. Not ever.

A hand caught his shoulder and a deep Scottish accent proclaimed “His name’s Novak. Just thought you wanted to know.”

“Why, thank you Crowley,” Dean replied sarcastically, while mentally noting the name. After all he couldn’t keep thinking of him as ‘that one guy who got me grounded all summer’. “A shame I don’t really care.”

“Well, stop staring at him and sit down then.”

“I’m not,” Dean protested turning to Crowley, receiving a very much whatever-you-say-look.

He continued. “Looks like you really did scare him off, though.”

“Well, that was the whole point, so congratulations me.”

They walked to their usual table. Dean squished down between Benny and Victor. Benny clapped his shoulder and smiled at him reaching a plate and some bread in his direction. Dean started helping himself to it, realizing that he was hungry after all. He listened to the others talk about last night, while stuffing his mouth. They had sat in the common room and started drinking after lights out. Crowley had some kind of regular agreement with the janitor, to keep the lights on and clean out after they had left every time they decided drinking on a school night.

Victor laughed out loud while telling how ungracefully Crowley had woken up and got up behind the sofa so fast that he tripped over his own feat.

“You were there all night?” Dean asked.

“Well, we couldn’t all be pussies like you leaving at 12 o’clock”, Gordon answered annoyingly.

“Yeah, you okay, brother? You seemed kind of off last night,” Benny joined in looking worried.

“I’m fine, man. I just wasn’t really in the mood”, Dean answered casually. He looked up from his breakfast. Just past Crowley’s shoulder Dean could watch the back of a dark haired head. What was it? Novak. Right, his name was Novak.

“I just don’t get it. Nick usually wakes us up when he comes to clean up the mess”, Crowley said thoughtfully.

Dean only listened with half an ear, while watching the pair of angel-nerds across the cafeteria. It looks like Novak was telling the other guy something in a hushed voice. He leant across the table to be closer to his friend, obviously telling something he didn’t want everyone to hear.

By Dean’s side Victor continued with a huge grin, “Well, he probably didn’t notice you behind the sofa, dude!”

“And anyway, it was cleaned up, so no one will notice anyth—“, Benny was abruptly interrupted by a huge, bone crashing noise coming from the speakers. Everyone covered their ears till the sound stopped and mumbling complaints started.

The speaker tried awkwardly, “Oh. Sorry about that. Uhm… Should I just read this out loud or…? Okay. Wait, how do you pronounce that?” The voice whispered without turning the speaker off. He cleared his throat and continued more formally, “Casteel Novak to the headmistress office.”

Dean recognized the name and turned his head towards the end of the cafeteria again, where he immediately was met by very angry eyes belonging to Novak’s friend, who was now standing from his seat and for a moment looked like he didn’t care who he would have to kill to get to renovate Dean’s face. Dean stood up in bare surprise. He realized how it made him look. When he came to think about it, he had no reason to be threatened by that scrawny kid. He could do his worst, but Dean was in every way him superior. Benny followed his gaze and stood up next to him, hand on his shoulder.

“What’s going on?” he asked hushed. The touch to his shoulder made Dean believe that Benny got his back, even when he didn’t know why he had to.

He watched as the Novak-boy got up in front of Angry Guy no. 1 and touched his shoulder, saying something to him before he turned around catching Dean’s eyes. Dean lost his breath. The boy’s jaw was clenched and his features hard, but otherwise there were nothing to read on his face. Dean had never seen him this closed off and hard before. He always had a hard time reading the expressions on that angled face of his, but this… it had never been like this. Dean’s mouth had gone dry. He wanted to run away. He wanted to slam his fist into something but most of all he wanted to change that hard expression. He wanted to draw his thump over those cheekbones and jaw, wanting the firmness to disappear with his strokes.

Suddenly Jo was behind him, pressing him down on the bench by his shoulders.

“Sit down, cowboy. We don’t want any more trouble than we’ve already got.”

Dean noticed now, how the whole cafeteria had gone silent, stares divided between the nerd-table and the footballers table.

Novak tore his cold, blue eyes away from Dean’s, though it obviously took effort and started walking towards the door. Dean watched him - undoubtedly with the rest of his table - with Jo’s fingers drilling into the skin under his t-shirt. He welcomed the pain.

When Novak was out of the door, she let go of him and a tension lifted from the crowded cafeteria. People all over the room started their own conversations again, finally minding their own business. Dean took a deep breath. He took a quick look at his former almost-rival across the crowd, but he was sitting down next to a rather cute redhead.

The talk went on with why that silent, starring-queen had been sent to the big bad wolf, which soon became comments about what he would do in her cave, which was Jo’s cue to leave with, “Now you are just being gross!”

They all laughed around Dean, while he was staring blankly down at his empty plate, thoughts elsewhere.

“He wouldn’t know what to do if he ever came across a cave,” Gordon laughed. “He’s probably never seen one since his mother’s womb!“

Dean got an elbow in his ribs. “Ouch!” Benny looked at him, still teared up from laughing but his smile went dry at the sight of Dean’s not in any way happy face.

“Relax, Dean!” he said, trying to cheer him up. “He isn’t up there to trash talk you!”

“No way!”, Azazel next to Crowley agreed with a malicious smile, “He knows what will be waiting for him if he does. You taught him that!”

That didn’t really make Dean feel better. Azazel and Gordon high fived.

Victor started laughing. “Oh, so you think he’s done something bad to deserve her attention?”

“Oh, come on. The guys at that table make Jesus look like pure sin.” Benny stated.

The clock rang to call them all to class. Well, all except for Dean who had an appointment with judgment day. Dean took a muffin in each hand and they all got up from the table.

Victor turned to Dean “Good luck, pall! She probably won’t be too hard on ya.” Victor said.

“Probably? Well, that’s reassuring.” Dean answered sarcastically.

“No, worries bro. Just don’t beat up any angel-named nerds on the way, and you’ll be fine,” Benny said with a smirk, walking off to class with the others.

Great. Once again Dean had no other option than to go through the hallways without running into that blue eyed sonofabitch.

---

Dean had made it outside. It had stopped raining so he took a moment to take in the fresh, cool September air, calming himself down, before he went to the office building where the reception, the teacher’s rooms and the offices were gathered. All this without running into the other boy. He relaxed, thinking that they must have crossed paths in some way.

He was met with the surprisingly white, light rooms and halls unlike the classroom halls. At the reception a very sweet elderly lady, working halftime to have something to do with her pension years, was sitting by the computer looking up as he got in.

“Hi Gert. You look exceptionally good today. Did you do something with your hair?”

The lady chuckled, and touched the end of her bun, recognizing him, “Now don’t you get all sarcastic with me, Dean Winchester.”

“I’m really not”, Dean said with a wry smile, leaning against the counter.“I’m here to see-”

“- The headmistress. I know, deary. After all I am the one running the calendar”, she chuckled on.

“You know if she’s ready for me then?”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think anyone was ever ready for you!” she said winking. Now this was getting a bit uncomfortable. “She’ll probably call in a short while, honey. Why don’t you sit down.”

“Well, then you’ll have this”, he gave her one of the muffins, with a cocky smile, “to kill the time with me.”

“Oh, you are such a charmer, Mr. Winchester. Were you just a little older…” she said shaking her head dreamily, peeling the paper from the muffin. “Oh, you shouldn’t have a brother by any chance?” Yep, this was definitely getting out of control.

He sat down in a couch eating the other muffin. Before he could finish the phone rang and Gert proclaimed, that headmistress Celestiallit was ready for him now.

Dean went down the hall stuffing the rest of the muffin in his mouth and liking his fingers off. He wondered to himself why the heads in the house always had to have the office furthest away from everything. He came to the conclusion that all of them actually hate kids and teenagers and tried to get as far away as they possibly could while still be in control of them. Smart.

He reached the door. Chewed and swallowed before raising his hand to knock.

“Come in, Mr. Winchester!”

He opened the door at the same time as the sound of a chair pushed back against the polished floor and a panicking voice exclaimed “What?!”

The room was lighter than the reception, but it was a cold, clinically light. Headmistress Celestiallit sat down in front of her white desk. Two chairs were placed in front of it with the backs to Dean and by one of them Novak was standing all tens, intentionally not looking in Dean’s direction. 

"Sit down, Castiel!”, the headmistress commanded.

“I can work on my redemption alone, Naomi, I do not need to do this with anyone!”

“First of all, you do as I say here! Sit down and you address me as headmistress when at this school, is that understood? Second; this is not only about you and your needs, Castiel. You have to think about other people than yourself. Stop being so selfish, it’s unbecoming.”

The boy sat down looking down in his lap, folding his hands there. Defeated. Dean had earlier thought of the headmistress as harsh but fair, which he could respect and essentially relate to. But this harshness against ... Castiel, was it? It seemed a bit offhand.

“You may take a seat, Mr. Winchester”, the headmistress gestured to the chair beside Novak’s.

Dean sat down questioning everything but saying nothing. He knew he was already in a bad position in here - there was no reason for him to start digging his own grave even further.

The headmistress folded her hands on the desk addressing both of them. “Good. Now, you are both here, because you have violated some very serious rules of this school. You” she looked at Dean, “have had the whole summer to think about what you did. I do hope you have reached an understanding of the seriousness of the situation. You are two warnings down, Mr. Winchester, we all know that there isn’t a third warning here.”

He shifted uncomfortably in the chair, taking a glance at Castiel, who still sat with his hands in his lap, all tense, stern eyes and possibly not breathing.

The headmistress continued, “While Mr. Novak here hasn’t had that same amount of time to redeem himself I suggest that you make amends for it together. You might –“

“Come again?” Dean said, trying to figure out if she had any idea of what she just said.

“You heard me perfectly well, Mr. Winchester.”

Dean was surprised to say the least, “… You do know that we aren’t exactly in each other’s good graces here, right?”

“Without overemphasizing the subject, I know. Which is why you ended up here in the first place. But as I was saying I am sure you have much more in common than you might think,” she said, sending Novak an intense look.

Castiel and Dean snorted at the same time before they looked at each other gaping.

“Now listen to me”, she continued and they both looked up at her. “Your detention will consist in helping our new janitor Garth Fitzgerald with his duties here at the school until Christmas. You will do whatever Mr. Fitzgerald tells you and you will perform every duty together without exceptions. Mr. Fitzgerald will of course keep an eye on you and report directly to me. Should you fail in this – I promise you - it Will. Have. Consequences!”

There was deathly silent for a moment until Dean realized she had finished talking.

“Thank you, headmistress”, Novak said. Dean had no idea what there was to thank her for.

“You may be excused,” she said like an answer to his thanks and gestured with her hand for them to leave, while she pulled out some paper work. They both got up, Dean gave her a nod and turned for the door handle only to find that another hand already had occupied that spot. He looked at Novak, who had cocked his head looking at Dean’s hand over his own, like the sight puzzled him. As if he just realized there was nothing interesting about it, he met Dean’s gaze and slowly withdrew his hand from under Dean’s.

“Boys, please!” the headmistress said suddenly, startling Dean.

He grabbed the handle opened the door and stormed out leaving Novak behind. He wasn’t going to wait for him to catch up. This united detention didn’t exactly make them besties, and he was apparently going to see a lot more to him from then on anyway. No need to jump the gun.

Chapter Text

Clothes were spread in a circle on the floor around Castiel. He looked through his drawer in the closet next to the door.

“I don’t understand why you are doing this,” Balthazar sighed from the bed, removing a sock that accidently landed in his English book and accepting the lack of concentration that Castiel caused, putting the book away.

“It’s detention. There’s not really much to do about it,” Castiel answered annoyed. He had to find some new clothes after the day of school. It had to have been one of the longest days he had ever endured there, sweating, being sure it only was a matter of time before one of the footballers would push him to the floor, or into a locker or whatever they thought would be a great gesture for today. De – …Winchester had to have told them everything by now, and if that didn’t deserve him at least a threat, they were way more random than he had thought.  But as of yet nothing had happened. They had kept to themselves and Winchester hadn’t even glanced in his direction.

“Just a suggestion, but you could tell them the truth,” Balthazar tried.

Cas turned around to look at him reproachfully.

“Right… that would be too much to ask for – what was I thinking?” Balthazar exclaimed sarcastically from the bed. He turned around to lie on his back, watching the dull, grey ceiling. “It’s only a matter of time before someone finds out it wasn’t you, you know.”

“No one is gonna find out.”

“I don’t even get that Naomi fell for it. It’s completely out of character for you… You could at least tell her, so you would get rid of this stupid detention-thing or whatever it is. Punishment. I mean, Winchester deserves far worse and you don’t deserve any of it.”

“If I told Naomi she would sentence me to isolation!”

“This I not a prison, Cas!” Castiel could only snort at that. It sure felt like it sometimes. Bal moved to sit up in the bed to look more serious at Cas, “I just don’t get why you are doing this for someone who will never appreciate it.”

Castiel decided on some ordinary trousers and a blue sweater and started changing. “It’s not about me.”

“You keep saying that, but it affects you, Cas,” Balthazar said gesturing at Cas, trying to take his sweater over his head. Bal sigh defeated, “I just really hope you know what you are getting yourself into.”

“I do.” Castiel mumbled through the cotton of his sweater, before he got his head through. “I do.” He confirmed when he got out. He opened the door in his closet and looked at himself in the oblong mirror placed there. He was happy with his choice. He felt cozy which he really needed right now. He could relax in this without looking indolent. Perfect. “This can’t go wrong,” he went on. “This will keep my dad at bay and keep this school bearable to be a part of,” he mumbled, looking at himself in the mirror.

“Are you talking about detention… or Winchester?” Balthazar asked, watching Cas from the bed.

“What, no!” Castiel exclaimed a little too quickly. He took a breath, relax! “No. I just mean that when I’m distracted with work I don’t have to burden myself thinking about anyone at home. Neither dad or Naomi or Michael.” He turned around to face Balthazar. “I’m changing to something more comfortable for work. I don’t know what we are going to do yet, but I want to wear something I can feel relaxed in and look presentable in. What do you think?”

Balthazar raised his brows skeptically. “You forgot the zipper,” he pointed out not really wanting to answer Castiel’s girlie questions. “No, but seriously, Cas. I thought you were getting over whatever kind of crush you were having by not being anywhere near that Neanderthal. It kind of seems like you decided to go the exact opposite way.”

“I never had a crush,” Castiel said truthfully, zipping up his trousers. “And I didn’t really see it coming that we were supposed to work together. I was sure Naomi hated him.” He thought about it, “She probably just hate the both of us.”

Castiel picked up his phone lying on the desk. Still ten minutes till he should go. He sat down in the desk chair, tapping his leg impatiently against the floor.

“I just really want you to take care of yourself, Cas, but with an attitude like that, he can only disappoint you! What if he just isn’t as good as you would like him to be? What if what we see is all there is to him?” Balthazar was getting upset. He really cared for Castiel, who couldn’t help but smile at the thought. It was a good thing he had a friend like Balthazar who only had his best interests at heart.

“I don’t know him, Bal, but he seems kind of misplaced. Like he can’t find his way. Like he doesn’t really belong here.”

“Don’t let yourself think you can lead him from whatever path he is on. Christ, he broke some guy’s wrist at one of the football matches last year. Football! How is that even possible? Whatever made him this angry, I don’t know, but I don’t want you to drag yourself down with him!”

“Don’t blasphemy, Bal! I don’t want to lead him anywhere…” not alone, at least, Castiel continued in his mind, but immediately shaking his head like to get the thought out. He knew how hurt he had felt last year – probably more mentally than he’d care to admit – and he knew he really shouldn’t go down that rabbit hole again. He really should stay away from Dean. Winchester, dammit. He knew Winchester wasn’t in any way good for him, but when he looked at him, he looked like a broken thing waiting to be fixed. Castiel just wanted to watch him be, to study him, to be sure he pushed the right buttons.

Balthazar continued not really noticing the small smile playing at Cas’s lips as he thought to himself. “What do you see in him that literally no one else does? I mean, even his own folks doesn’t show up at his games.”

“They are probably busy,” Cas said absently looking through the air into empty space, getting annoyed with Balthazar’s judgments. Sure Cas had been stared down by those morons before, pinned to a sink, a locker or brick walls, but there was something very different in Dean’s stare last year. Winche- screw it! Dean it is. Castiel wanted to forget about the punch, because everything that came before that felt like pure bliss. He felt kind of sorry for Dean that his parents didn’t show up at the matches, to see him. He really had enjoyed watching how happy he was when he had went, and that was only practice. Wait.

“Wait – how do you even know that?” Castiel demanded.

“Anna has spoken to Lisa. Apparently she keeps him close. Anna thinks she likes him.”

Right. The cheerleaders and the footballers. What a cliché, Cas thought bitterly.

 “I’m serious, Cas. He beat you up –“

“He sucker punched me. And that was one time!” Castiel was getting annoyed again. He looked at is phone: seven minutes. He got nervous. When he thought about going out there to meet Mr. Fitzgerald and Dean in the common room, his heart started pumping and his mouth went dry.

Balthazar continued persevering, “Don’t defend him! He may only have physically hurt you once, but all those times he stood by and watched while any of the other bastards hurt you. Or me for that matter. He may even have cheered on them to do so. Hell, he’s there captain – maybe he ordered it!”

“No!” Cas said before he knew the word came out of his mouth. He couldn’t believe that. There may not have been as much exaggeration in what Bal said as Castiel would have wished, but that was what turned Cas’s blood cold. He looked up at him, eyes hard, face ripped off emotion. This was a boundary Balthazar should not step over; Castiel knew he sometimes lived in an imaginary world, but that was what made it bearable most of the time. He had thought that the last football practice was what should keep him going through the summer, but it wasn’t. It was Dean’s face so close to his, that their noses almost bumped together. It was the expression of curiosity and something he couldn’t quite determine at the time. It was his breath merging with his own. Over the summer, replaying the minutes that felt like hours, in his mind so many times, he wasn’t sure how much of it was fact and how much was fiction anymore. They had been standing so close, Dean’s pupils had dilated, he had swallowed like he was nervous, and then he had loosened his grip like he wanted to touch. Wanted to lift his hands from his collar to Cas’s jaw and brush over his worried features.

He was going to see the boy in a couple of minutes and he was nervous as hell. He had to calm down, or it would be a very awkward meeting indeed.

He became aware of the eyes staring at him from the bed.

“Cas…?” Balthzar asked worriedly like had he been able to follow Castiel’s flow of emotion in his facial expressions.

“Just leave.” He realized how hard it had sounded, but what Bal had said was still hurting.

Balthazar raised himself from the bed with a distinct sigh and walked towards the door. He needn’t getting it told twice. Cas rarely kicked him out, so when he said something like that, he meant it.

“Just do me a favor,” Bal said, with his hand on the door handle. “Don’t let some idea of the guy run away with you.”

He shut the door behind him leaving Castiel alone. At this time of day sounds from students walking towards the cafeteria for diner filled the halls and disturbed Cas’s thoughts. It was probably for the best. He didn’t want to think too much about the next hours he was going to spend in Dean’s company. He knew Balthazar was right. It was only a matter of time before Dean broke whatever pleasant thoughts Castiel had created around him.

The sounds from the halls were slowly fading as Castiel’s fellow students cleared out. Cas decided he might as well be a couple of minutes early. That would probably be for the best depending on how strict that new janitor was.

He left his phone on the desk and went for the door. A few students were still fooling about in the far end of the hall, but otherwise it seemed quiet. He closed the door and put his forehead against it. He took a deep breath. It’s going to be fine. You don’t have to speak to him.

Two hands gripped his shoulders from behind and hurled him around slamming the door handle against his lower back, pinning him against the door. It was Walker.

“Hello faggot,” he said a fat white grin playing on his face.

Castiel’s heart started racing again, but now it had little to do with the nervousness he experienced before. For a moment he caught himself thinking, that he might be late for his meeting with Mr. Fitzgerald, because of this. He looked to the side, but the students at the end of the hall had gone. There was nowhere to go.

“Hi,” Cas said defiantly like a respond he rarely gave. He always tried not to say too much under these kind of circumstances. He was never the one with the backup.  

Walker’s smile faded. “Don’t use that tone with me, you punk,” he said in a threatening tone pushing him further into the door, while another figure came closer behind him. Kubrick.

“Easy boys,” McLeod’s Scottish accent calmed behind Kubrick. “We just want a chat.”

He came up next to Walker, nodding to him, who then let go of his grip in Castiel’s clothes. McLeod stepped into Castiel’s personal space, and started straightening him up by brushing over his shoulders with his hands.

“You see,” he went on, “we haven’t been able not to notice a certain attraction that you may hold towards our captain – Understandable, by the way – but it makes him uneasy and we want him at his best at the forthcoming matches. Your watching-thingy is a distraction for him and we can’t have that, so we are here to kindly ask you to –“, he lent into Cas almost brushing his ear with his lips while whispering, “stay away.”

He lent back and smiled a humorless do-I-make-myself-clear smile.

Castiel thought about it before answering. ”I don’t want to speak to him, but we have detention together and I can’t really –“

“Then you’ll just have to be creative, won’t you? How about you just draw that silly statement, that he hurt you, back? That would be a start.” Crowley suggested.

“It’s too late for that. There is no way out, the headmistress was very clear about that.”

“I don’t care how you do it, just don’t screw him up. He is vital to the team and if you become a problem to him and his concentration on the game, you become a problem to me. And I deal with my problems. Very. Thoroughly.”

With that McLeod looked at him, his gaze boring into Castiel’s skull before he let go, clapped his cheek like an old man would a giddy child, and turned on his heels and went down the corridor, not waiting for his henchmen to keep up.

Walker turned back to Castiel and raised his fist, slamming it through the air and towards Castiel’s face. His heart was pumping loudly but the punch never came. He opened his eyes starring directly into Walkers fist. Walker slowly laid his folded fist against Castiel’s nose and forehead.

“You heard him,” he said solemnly, before letting go and running a few steps to keep up with his friends.

With an intake of breath Castiel sunk down against the door, folding his legs up to his chin. He pressed the muscles in his face together, breathing hard and deep, trying to keep the tears from crawling up into his eyes but it was a waste of effort. He let his head fall back against the door and let the tears stream down his cheeks. He didn’t sob, just let the sudden feeling of fear stream out through his eyes, as it was leaving his body. The combination of different intense feelings within the last 5 minutes had collided and now flowing out of him like an open artery.

He closed his eyes and took in the feeling before he could let it go. He couldn’t get Dean out of detention. Not now anyway, but he didn’t have to speak to him during which, he figured, had to do for now.

For a while he just sat there and enjoyed the silence. Just for a moment. He embraced it. He had no idea how long he had been sitting there. It could have been minutes. It could have been hours, but suddenly the silence was broken by footsteps from somewhere down the halls. When Castiel realized they got nearer, he didn’t bother reacting. He waited for something to tilt him out of his little bobble of comfort, not wanting to do it himself.

“What the…?” Dean’s voice sounded surprised. Then worried, “Cas?”

Having thought about it, it wasn’t like Dean couldn’t accept the detention. Mostly because he deserved much worse and he knew it. He didn’t understand why the headmistress had only given him a warning – especially since it seemed like Novak new her from outside the school. Shouldn’t she then take his side in all this?

The other guys had laughed at the detention-thing. Well, there wasn’t really much else to do, was there? It was a poor punishment for something that deserved much harsher. They all agreed that the headmistress neither liked Dean nor Novak, since she had forced them into each other’s company only to torment each other. It would probably only be a question of time before one of them would act out.

“It better not be you!” Benny said, walking down the hallway with Dean after class.

“It won’t be – I’m gonna keep my nose clean here. I’m just not gonna talk to him more than absolutely necessary. His probably feeling the same,” Dean answered. “It’s just so damn annoying I won’t have time for squat when we have to do this too.”

“Crowley is gonna torture you to death if you get sloppy.”

“Well, I was thinking about homework, but yeah football to. I just have to find time for all of it.”

He knew that finding time might not be that easy, but as long as he could keep his head in the game when he was in the field, it should work out. No one had to know how stressed out he was just thinking about it. And his grades… well, let’s not think about that right now either.

“Why even have janitors when all his tasks just get put on students who misbehave?” Benny thought out laud.

”He’s new apparently – maybe he needs to be eased into it.”

“We have a new janitor? Where is Nick?”

“Gee, man. I didn’t really have tea and biscuits so we could talk about our mutual interest in the school, at the headmistress.”

“Crowley is gonna freak,” Benny said looking slightly startled.

“Why would he care?” Dean asked baffled.

“Crowley had some kind of deal with him. He was the reason we were a loud to drink at school and could stay up at nights when ever and no one asked questions. He even cleaned up our messes. You’ve been here for a year, and you didn’t know this?“

Dean shook his head, “No man. I haven’t really thought that much about it. Everyone else did it, so I did it, and no one asked.”

“Don’t tell him I said this,” Benny continued solemnly, “but it is probably for the best. That Nick-guy seemed kind of worn out, losing his family and all.”

“Yeah, well. Crowley will just have to get a new agreement in place-“

“Hi Dean,” feminine voice called out behind them.

Dean already had his best smirk in place when he turned around to face her, “Hello Lisa – pleasure as always.”

She was one of the prettiest girls in school, if not the prettiest. Long brown hair, elegant and kind. And unlike any other girl on the cheerleading squad - hell, maybe unlike anyone at school - she actually seemed to care whenever she asked about him. But she wasn’t alone.

“Hi handsome,” The head cheerleader’s British accent exclaimed ironically, behind Lisa. She had obviously been dragged along down to the boy’s corridor against her will.

“Bela,” Dean acknowledged with as much fake good-to-se-you he could muster into the single word. He turned his attention back to the in every way more awesome girl in front of him.

Benny clapped his back and exclaimed grinning, “I’ll just leave you to it. See you later, brother!” before he took off.

Lisa smiled, eyes twinkling, “I heard Crowley is hosting a party downtown after the game Saturday.”

“Well, I guess his optimistic, then,” Dean said, getting kind of worried at the thought. Not that the team wasn’t good. They were fighters. They worked hard to get what they wanted, but it was not unusual that someone from the other team had to be carried out of the field, and they were kind of known for it in the high school leagues. Last match before school’s out time one of them ended up in the hospital with a broken jaw. Dean feared it only was a matter of time before the rumor had spread in such a degree they all would be kicked out of the league.

“He chose you for captain after him, so he must really believe in you,” she smiled. Bela snorted in the background arms crossed.

“Yeah well. What can you do,” he said modest, scratching his neck, not really knowing how to react. He tried to lean against a doorframe but missed it, and stumbled a step, almost hitting the wall before he got himself under control again. He cleared his throat once, Bela laughed unshamefully out loud. Damn, he could be so awkward sometimes. Play it cool. Play it cool.

“So… but are you coming?” Lisa continued, unsuccessfully hiding a smile from Dean’s failure yet trying to save him from the awkwardness of it all. He decided to ignore it completely – just like it never happened.

“Yeah, sure. Why not. Are you?”

“I am!”

“Then I’m definitely gonna be there!” he said blinking at her. And I’m back in the game!

She lighted up completely be that. “Great! See you there then!”

She turned around grapping a hardly walkable, laughing Bela by the wrist and rapidly made their way to the cafeteria.

---

Garth was something. Dean didn’t know what he expected from a janitor but he was sure that the guy he was meeting was not actually the same dude that was leaning against table in the common room. He was scrawny as hell, not really looking grown up yet but with a know-it-all smile on his face.

“Hey – are you Dean?” he asked with a pointed finger.

Dean nodded now noticing the two buckets with some kinds of cleaning products in them. Great, we’re the substitute cleaning ladies.

Fitzgerald tilted his head, “I thought you’d be taller,” he said thoughtfully.

“Sorry man. This is all there is,” Dean said making gesture to himself a bit annoyed with the man, but it made the janitor laugh like drain.

“You’re funny!”

Dean checked his wrist watch, not really concerning himself with that weird janitor. It was 5:28 pm. He was early – who would have thought that. He looked around in the room and decided to take a seat opposite Fitzgerald at the armrest of the red scruffy sofa that was the most well-preserved furniture in the room. It screened the rest of the room from the small sofa area with a television, an armchair and a coffee table. The rest of the room was mostly full of long tables and chairs. Dean had heard that a lot of the students liked to go down here in the afternoons to do homework. He knew Sam went here. That kid always took care of his homework. Dean knew that his babybrother Sammy was going to be the smart one of them. He was kind, unselfish and believed in the best in people. Sometimes Dean could hardly believe they were related. Dean smiled warmly at the thought of his brother, but his stream of thoughts was cut off by the janitor.

“Does your friend have some schedule issues?” Fitzgerald asked looking at his watch, “You are supposed to start before long so you can make it in time.”

“I don’t really know him, so I wouldn’t know, sir,” Dean answered.

“No, no, no. Don’t sir-me, Dean,” the janitor said waving his hands, “Call me Garth.”

Dean just nodded and looked at his watch again. He didn’t really care. It was 5:33. Castiel was late. It was true, that he didn’t know him, but throughout every class they had attended together, Cas hadn’t missed a single one and had never been running late. Of course Dean had missed a few so those days he wouldn’t actually know about, but still.

“Well, to me he seems like a very punctual guy. Garth.”

“Okay. You know what, I kind of promised my special someone that I would get home early, so listen up.” He raised his hands down to drag up the bucket and take out a bottle, some liquid soap, scrub sponge and a cloth. “I’m going to have you to go over the boy’s doors and radiators in the hall of your year with this. They are filled with drawings and inappropriate naming in permanent marker...” He stopped to smile a bit for himself adding, “actually some of them are rather funny.”

Dean stiffened a little knowing that he might have dropped a couple of drawings here and there as well.

“Anyway, you remove them with this,” he held up the bottle of ethanol up and the cloth, ”and wipe it off with hot water, soap and this,” he said now holding up the sponge.

“Sure,” Dean sighed impatiently.

“Great! And tomorrow you’ll do the exact same thing in the girl’s hall on fourth year as well. Easy peasy,” he said cheeringly.

“Peachy,” Dean exclaimed without any sign of joy in his face. His watch was now saying 5:37. He couldn’t help but feel a little left behind by that stuck up angel-nerd. 

“I am thinking,” Garth continued, “that I am going to stay here for 10 minutes longer to see if your friend shows up, and-“

“Oh, trust me, he is definitely not my friend,” Dean cut him off bitterly.

Garth continued pretending to overhear him, like trying to cling to some authority, “And then you can take these buckets, fill ‘em up and begin in the corridor.”

“Awesome,” Dean exclaimed sarcastically, taking the bottles and leaving the room.

Every sound Dean heard was coming from the cafeteria at the other end of the facility. Otherwise the halls were silent. He filled the buckets half, so they wouldn’t get to heavy before he left for the boy’s hall.

He was frustrated with Castiel. He knew he really had no understanding of that guy and wondered if anyone else had, but he was never late, so why now? Why leave Dean alone with the mess? And suddenly Dean started wandering what Cas even had done to get into detention like this. It must have been something equally as bad as what Dean did to deserve the exact same punishment. It obviously couldn’t be related to Dean’s mess, because he was pretty innocent in that whole escalation. Well, another mystery to that trench coated, blue eyed guy.

Cas. When had he nicknamed him Cas?

He turned the corner and stopped abruptly. In the middle of the fairly long corridor Castiel was sitting, legs to his chest, leaning against the door which was probably the one leading to his room.

 “What the…?”, hell, Dean trailed of. He had millions of questions, but out of every feeling he could be having in this moment, he felt concern. The other boy didn’t move – he just sat there with his head leaned against his door. “Cas?” he asked out loud.

Castiel slowly tilted his head in Dean’s direction, opened his eyes and looked at him, but didn’t say anything.

“You okay, man?” Dean asked slow and worried. He jogged towards Castiel’s slumped form and put down the buckets.

Castiel looked down and halfheartedly whispered, “Yeah… yeah.”

“Sure?” Dean asked and held out a hand to help him up from the floor. Cas looked at it for a moment, like he was considering whether or not to take Dean’s hand which for a second offended Dean. With a determent glance he grabbed it and pulled while Dean dragged him from the floor to standing, but he underestimated his own strength. No sooner was Cas up from the floor before their bodies slammed into one another. Dean lost his breath for a moment not sure if it was the bump or the huge blue eyes filled with surprise, starring into his own, that took his breath away. He had to grip at the back of Castiel’s sweater to keep balance. Castiel was completely frozen and possibly not breathing again. It was not the first time Dean had noticed how perfectly still Cas could be. For a moment he got lost into the ocean of his blue, intense eyes. Come on, how could eyes even be so mesmerizing. A small pain raised in his chest and an urge to reach out. An urge to touch.

A clearing of throat hammered through the silence in the hall. “I see you found your buddy,” Garth said.

Cas jumped away, and lost balance but were cached by the wall behind him, breathing hard. It took a second for Dean to follow up before he realized what it must have looked like and he felt all the blood disappear from his face.

“I, ehh… Well, we…” Dean stammered, but Garth went past him reaching a hand out to meet Castiel.

“Hi, I’m Garth Fitzgerald the fourth. But just call me Garth,” the janitor said, shaking Cas’s hand.

“I’m sorry for being late. It won’t happen again,” Castiel said more as a promise than what Dean made the exact same words sound like whenever he was late for classes every time he had tried to sleep a hangover away.

“No worries, Casteeel.”

“It’s Castiel,” Dean corrected. Castiel looked at him surprised.

What? Of course I remember your name, you douche, Dean tried to communicate out with a glance.

Garth didn’t seem to notice. “Sorry, dude. Hey, I suggest you start in opposite ends, okay? Dean can fill you in on the rest.”

Garth left, humming some melody on the way.

Cas’ turned his ever so merciless gaze on Dean. Dean just watched him again until he understood that Cas was waiting for him to do something.

“So?” Cas said impatiently and somewhat annoyed.

Dean cleared his throat and got back to reality, and mentally kicking himself for being so absent-minded right now.

“Right, um.” He reached down for the buckets and handed one out to Castiel. “We have to rinse the marks on the doors and whatever else away with this.”

Castiel only nodded as a response.

“Great. Good.” Dean continued feeling awkward. ”If you just start down there, I’ll start in this end.”

“Mm,” Castiel murmured and accepted the bucket.

Chapter Text

Castiel couldn’t help but feel a bit amused by the thought that Football Captain Dean Winchester should clean the corridors for insults made in graffiti, most of which he had probably taken part in doing himself. The perfect punishment must be to fix what was broken in the process. Perfect.

They had started in each end, and Castiel had been careful not to talk to Dean. There was no reason for him to start digging his own grave, he thought as MacLeod’s threats still sounded in his mind and his sore back nagged him when he moved the wrong muscle.

As Castiel worked on a doorframe he felt something very familiar burn in the back of his neck. A feeling he had had many a time in the classrooms with Dean sitting a couple of rows behind him. He felt watched.

He turned around to see Dean half a corridor away rapidly turning his gaze towards his work while a blush started crawling up his cheeks. Cas smiled to himself, allowing the thought that Dean was watching him fill him with warmth for a moment, before he mentally brushed it away with the knowledge that Dean was watching him for completely different reasons than the ones Cas ever had while watching him.

Cas had tried hard to keep his promise to himself of not thinking about Dean. He tried not to let his gaze linger for more than what was necessary. Which in all fairness usually meant never. There was never really a good reason for him to watch the other boy. At least nothing he would ever justify out loud, but when they touched, which – weirdly enough – became more and more often, he couldn’t help it. Most of the time he looked at him in bare surprise of the accidental action and who could ever tear there gaze away from something that looked so evidently pleasing.

Otherwise he really had worked on calming his mind over the past summer and he was getting better at it. Ignoring him in classes whenever he turned up later than Cas and had to walk past him and swapping seats with Balthazar in the cafeteria so he couldn’t look at Dean without turning his whole body. He was feeling a little proud of himself for actually managing that much self-control. But being careful not to give in to his teenage-hormone-desires every once in a while, made him wake up with a boner almost every morning and not thinking about Dean of sheer habit was practically impossible.

The further Cas tried to draw himself away the closer Dean seemed to get.

He got to Balthazar’s door where someone had drawn the upper body of a naked woman with undimensionally big breasts accompanied by a text saying “Know what you mis aut of” in scrawl letters. Castiel shook his head in embarrassment. Their spelling was expectantly awful and their facts were off. Balthazar had never looked at a guy with any kind of interest – not even friendship. Castiel had no idea how they had ended up on each other’s tolerable-people-to-be-around list. And besides, Bal had always had a thing for Anna, who – luckily for Castiel – kept turning down his endless attempts of romance. She was the closest thing Cas would ever get to a sister and h did not want Balthazar near that. He simply didn’t deserve her.

He looked up at Dean, who had started on a long radiator winding along the opposite side of the wall. He was kneeling down and working hard to get a spot clean with the sponge, soap and water. Castiel had never appreciated t-shirts more. The toned muscles in his arms were flexing with his movements and water was running down his hands and underarms. Castiel had to swallow for not obviously drooling. He forced himself to turn back to the door he was working on trying to calm himself with a couple of deep breaths and thinking of all the things he had learned in summer camp last year about God, sin and sodomy. Yet he couldn’t help but steal a glance out of the corner of his eye at Dean’s face, with little wrinkles forming in concentration between his eyebrows. Well, Bible Camp hadn’t done him much good anyway. As soon as Dean lifted his head and accidently caught his eye Castiel turned back to the door, rubbing hard on a blank spot. All his blood rushed to Cas’ head and he prayed to God that Dean didn’t notice.

Not a word was said throughout the small hour it took for them to work through most of the doors, radiators and doorframes that had been assaulted with markers, but a lot of stolen glances were sent between them whenever the other looked away.

Castiel didn’t catch Dean in looking again –he was very careful not being too obvious about it himself – but he could feel his eyes linger on him and it made his stomach flutter with excitement. So how was he supposed not to look through his eyelashes whenever he got the chance?

When only a couple of doors divided them and they had half an hour to finish up before everyone came back from dinner, Castiel was starring directly into the door, to avoid unnecessary attention. Last time he had watched Dean indiscreetly, he ended up on the floor.

He took a deep breath again and tried to concentrate hard on the task ahead; A very annoying penis-drawing on his neighbor’s door. He sighed loudly.

“We’re almost there,” Dean suddenly mumbled encouragingly.

Cas didn’t quite know if it was directed at him, or if Dean was just mumbling to himself, but either way he decided there wasn’t anything to answer, yet a strange tension filled the air. They had been in the same lonesome corridor for almost an hour without saying a word but now, when Dean was within hearing distance, Cas couldn’t wrap himself up in his streams of thoughts but instead felt the lack of conversation between them. An awkward silence had emerged.

It appeared as if Dean felt the awkward silence too as he tried to fill it with what sounded like small talk. “So Castiel,” Dean tasted the name and send a shiver through Cas’s body at the sound of his name falling from Dean’s lips. “What’s that all about?“

Cas didn’t get it, “What’s what about?”

“Your name – Castiel?”

“Oh! Uhm..” Castiel struggled to find the words. Dean seemed so casual like was he just trying to make conversation at the tea table with a stranger, but after a few years with these kind of people, Castiel knew he should tread carefully. “Well, you’re going to think it’s weird, but as you know my family is rather religious. My brothers are named Michael, Raphael and-“

“You’re related to the ninja turtles?” Dean interrupted with a grin.

“Gabe- Wha- Who?” Castiel asked oblivious.

“You know – the teenage mutant ninja turtles,” he hummed a melody, which probably sounded very cool in Dean’s head, but only made Castiel laugh.

“Oh, shut up.” Dean tried to wave him of, but when Castiel looked at him he was grinning widely himself.

“I don’t know what it is - sorry” Castiel answered still grinning.

“You must have had sad childhood.”

Castiel’s smile faded at the comment. He knew he was raised under different circumstances than most children his age but he felt rather bright despite the closed upbringing, all thanks to his brother. The one who left him alone in a very big house full of expectations and embarrassment.

“We are named after angels. Gabriel, Raphael and Michael are archangels of the Bible.”

“And Castiel?”

“Castiel is the angel of Thursday.”

Dean grinned, “That doesn’t sound very noble, man”. He was lying on his stomach to wipe away a mouse whole accompanied by a little black mouse. Dean’s smile was contagious and send a warm fuzzy feeling through Castiel, whenever they made eye contact. Castiel was sitting on his bum washing the middle of his neighbor’s door free from the word “fudge”, which he guessed was another reference he didn’t understand. “It isn’t really. I kind of like it that way.”

“This is too bad,” Dean said, washing the last black color away from the bottom of the door. “I was rather fond of that mouse.”

A nice silence fell over them for a while, while they worked. Dean finished the door and moved another one closer, smiling to Cas as he did.

Castiel finished up himself and with only his door left, he sighed and stepped back from the door to get a better view to figure out where to begin. Most of the doors had had a couple of scribbles on them but his own was daub with words and drawings in black. Dean looked up at him and Cas could see amusement leaving his eyes.

“Sorry about that,” he mumbled. “I’ll help you when this is gone,” he said rubbing on yet another stubborn penis-drawing.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas answered, thinking of all the doors they had divided between them. He was just unlucky enough to end up with the one that needed most work. “It’s a practice night, right? Guess you need to get back to your team soon anyway.”

“Naa, Crowley can wait. I’m the captain now so he shouldn’t really have that much say in it,” Dean said carelessly.

“Crowley?” Castiel asked confused.

“Yeah, you know. Former captain. Little guy, dark hair, distinguished Scottish accent-“

“MacLeod?”

Dean looked up at him in surprise before he burst into laughing falling on his back on the floor. Cas got even more confused but couldn’t help but chuckle at Dean’s sudden outburst.

Dean sat up trying to control himself, whipping a tear away from laughing. “You know,” he said still giggling, “No one talks about it but yes that’s his real name.” He had a hard time keeping it in, “His name is Fergus MacLeod! Fergus!” and he lost it completely.

Cas didn’t really understand why Dean could find an odd name this amusing, but he couldn’t help but giggle along to Dean, who was back on the floor trying to catch his breath.

“But why would you call him Crowley then?”

“I’ve no idea where it came from! It’s like he just thought it was cooler or something. Before I came here, he called the team Crowley’s Demons.”

“Fitting,” Cas mumbled, thinking about the days before Dean came to the school and there were even less joy in taking a punch.  In some way, Dean’s mere presence had made it more bearable to walk these long halls fearing for the next footballer’s anger issues.

Castiel decided to get up and start at the top of his door where someone had wrote “ass pirate” in capital letters. He reached up and felt his sweater slide up. He didn’t think about it before he noticed Dean had gone all quite. He looked at Dean who sat on the floor eyeing his revealed lower back with a frown. It took a second for Castiel to catch up before he remembered the bruise that must have been forming there in the last hour between now and his encounter with Walker and… Crowley. He tucked his shirt down to cover the bruise feeling embarrassment creep in. He had a feeling Dean knew why he had the mark. It was there to remind him to keep away from Dean.

Dean didn’t say anything. Instead he got up with the cloth in one hand and the ethanol the other and gently shoved Cas to the side so that they both could stand by the door and work on it.

Dean didn’t seem to notice how the door was too small to leave much room for each of them. Either that or he just didn’t care. Castiel noticed though. He noticed how their elbows and legs frequently brushed and how he could feel Dean’s every movement right beside him. He turned to look at him and when Dean felt it he smiled at him. For a second Cas’s smile froze. He remembered how a whole year had gone by without him being able to take his eyes off of Dean and had done nothing but dream about a friendly smile directed at him. One that wouldn’t crumble when blue eyes meet green. And there it finally was. Dean smiled at him. Castiel felt like an idiot for grinning back as widely as he did but he couldn’t help it, and Dean didn’t seem to think any of it.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Cas tried to be friendly back. It was his door after all, he could get it cleaned himself.

“Shut up, Cas. I did some of this shit myself. Not this in particular – I’ve actually ever touched your door – but some of the other. And besides, we’re in this together,” Dean nudged him with his elbow, water dripping down his underarm. Castiel mentally shook himself when he heard his nickname fall so easily through Dean’s sentence, like he didn’t even notice the use himself. Dean stopped in a movement as something occurred to him. “Wait. Why are we in this together? What did you do?”

Cas didn’t say anything right away. He was thinking of the best answer. “I… I guess I was acting out. You know, to show my family – well, my dad really – that I’m not like my brothers despite his never ending attempts to prove me wrong.” He shrugged, “It backfired though. Naomi has no intention of telling my family anything and I had no idea I would end up doing this,” he gestured at the door with a sponge in hand.

“That makes two of us. By the way how do you know… Naomi? I didn’t even know she had a first name.”

“She’s my aunt. My father’s sister, so I’ve known her most of my life.”

“Huh,” Dean said thoughtfully. “Still don’t get what you did, though?”

“It doesn’t matter. It didn’t work all as I intended anyway.”

Dean obviously got the hint, and stopped pressing Cas for an answer. Instead he changed the subject. “This is taking up a lot of time though. And I had barely any for myself before. “

Cas felt a little disappointed by that statement, but reminded himself that of course Dean didn’t want to be there. He hadn’t come for the sheer joy of being with Cas – the nothing from the other end of the cafeteria. He tried keeping the feeling out of his words when he modest started to restate his former offer, “As I said, you don’t have to- “

“I know I don’t have to, Cas, but I want to. I’m just making conversation,” Dean interrupted with a casual shrug, “I’m just saying, it’s gonna be pretty damn hard to do this, make it to football practice and keep up my grades without Naomi pulling me out.” He stopped himself and thought for a second before he continued, “But… Well, I guess you don’t have that problem?” The question sounded like a challenge. Dean obviously had forgotten that Cas wasn’t another one of his teammates and probably couldn’t relate to his complaints.

Cas didn’t quite know what the right answer was, so he tried the truth as he had always been told was best. “No, I don’t have that problem. My grades are fine. And Naomi is not going to kick me out anytime soon. She would probably keep me here even if she had to work in bares in my windowsill. But then again, I don’t have much of a social life like you do.”

Dean thought about it before stating, “Good point,” and laying the mental armor he had broad up aside. “Crowley is gonna kill me, if I slack of at practice,” he sighed.

The treads from earlier came creeping up Castiel’s spine and made him shiver. He tried hard to come up with some kind of solution to Dean’s misery and his own upcoming injuries, but nothing came to him.

Dean had noticed how hard Cas was thinking, and continued, “Never mind it, man. I don’t even know why I’m laying this crap on you anyway. Forget it.”

They stood for a while working on Castiel’s door. Castiel tried to push the nagging thoughts in the back of his head away and concentrated on enjoying the last moments he had with Dean standing so close that he could smell his cologne. He even let himself be slightly amused by a text on his door saying “FOR A GOOD TIME - OPEN” with an arrow pointing to the doorknob.

When they finished up, Dean passed Castiel a bucket and they went to the nearest toilet to pour the dirty water away.

Dean checked his watch before excitedly exclaiming, “Great, we still have half an hour before diner is over!”

Cas grinned at the bizarre happiness he found in Dean’s face at the thought of diner, “Tomorrow we’ll probably be done earlier considering the girls can’t have painted their doors as much as ours were. You’ll have plenty of time for dinner then.” This brought an even bigger smile on Dean’s face and Castiel couldn’t help but feel a nudge of pride for having put it there.

A thought came to him and having been looking for it for the last couple of hours, he was surprised this first occurred to him now, “Or… If you want, I can help you with some of your homework, if we’ll get of earlier anyway? It might save you some time.” … and get Crowley out of my hair.

A line appeared between Dean’s brows he was thinking about it before he answered, “Yeah… Yeah, you know what? I think I’d like that.”

They walked together through the halls to get to the janitor’s closet next to the common room to leave the buckets. Student were slowly withdrawing from the cafeteria and had begun filling the halls again.

Dean looked from side to side before he flicked on the dim lights in the closet and gestured to Castiel to get in there with a nod of his head. Cas looked skeptical between Dean and the small space inside, but he didn’t get much time to think before Dean yanked him in by his sleeve with a mumbling “Come on”, before he stepped in behind him himself. The “before anyone sees” was implied. There was only enough room for the both of them between brooms and shelves with blankets.

“I just want to say something.” Dean said frowning. Castiel looked at him, waiting for him to continue, but something had stopped him. He was just standing and starring at Cas’s face. His beautiful green eyes were wide and the lines in his face evened out and softened as his pupils ever so slowly started dilating. Cas forgot how to breathe before he hastily cleared his throat.

Dean visibly snapped out of it. “Uhm. Where was I?” he said seemingly confused.

“You were going to say something,” Cas said.

“Right.” Dean said, smiling despite himself. He thought about it for a second longer before it came back to him, “Right. It’s just… I saw the bruise. On your back.”

Castiel retracted himself, his back nagging at the shelves behind him, at the spot in question. It wasn’t Dean’s business. He felt embarrassed and ashamed for having the proof of his own humiliation visibly carried around with him. And besides, Crowley hadn’t really said anything about it, but Castiel had a feeling that this was not supposed to reach Dean.

“Don’t,” Dean said and grabbed Castiel’s arm as he dragged himself away. Cas looked down at the touch and up at Dean’s face. It felt very much like… care. Now he was the confused one. Dean saw the reaction and withdrew his hand. “Listen, if it was any of my guys, I didn’t know, okay? I just want you to know that!”

Dean actually seemed to be sincere about this, judging by the look on his face.

“This is nothing,” Cas said straightening himself up, trying to sound tougher. At least it was true. “I’ve gone through worse. This doesn’t even hurt anymore and, besides, I guess I saw it coming. It’s not like getting a punch to the ribs when you are unprepared, alone and completely defenseless“. He had no idea where the sudden need to tell Dean off had come from, but it felt like bursting a bubble he didn’t know he was carrying. He couldn’t even regret it even though Dean had started out being nothing but kind and apologetic.

A darkness fell over Dean’s features by the sound of Cas’s words. “I… I’m sorry.” He looked like every fiber in his body was threatening to burst from the pain he held himself in, but he kept it together. “I know it’s not enough. It will never be enough. But I truly am. Sorry.”

Every harshness that Castiel carefully had built up was washed away by the bare look in Dean’s face and replaced by open-mouthed surprise. Whatever thought he may have had about Dean – an angry, uncontrolled boy, with no respect for teachers or fellow students and the need to proof himself to a pack of ignorant idiots – all that was nothing compared to the open wound Castiel never knew he was. Never had he meet anyone who regretted anything as much as this tortured Dean, yet he got the feeling that he had only scratched a surface. He fought hard against the urge to step through the small space and grab Dean and hold him, caress him and patch him up with words of encouragement and praise. He didn’t though. Admittedly he was afraid. Afraid of the inevitable rejection. A jolt of guilt went over Castiel as he looked at Dean’s miserable form. He reached out and touched his arm and ever so lightly stroke it with is thumb. Dean looked up at him at the touch.

“Don’t worry about it,” Cas said into the green eyes in the smallest, most apologetic voice he could manage. “It’s a long time ago now.”

Dean didn’t withdraw from Castiel’s touch which Cas’ felt like a small victory. He just looked at him. Cas would have given anything in that moment to know what thoughts went through that blond head right now. Dean’s wounded eyes gave nothing away as they kept starring endlessly back in Cas’s like was he leaning into caress.

Cas mind started to wonder what had went through Dean’s head throughout the last hour, when they had ended up clenched to each other in the middle of the hall before Garth came by. Every time he had sent gazes in Cas’s direction. When he got up to help Cas cleaning the last door. When he touched him just now. Something occurred to him.

“Why do you call me Cas?” Castiel felt a need to know. Everyone called each other by the last names here and Dean was not new enough to not know anymore. Yet he had called him ‘Cas’ like it was the most natural thing to ever come from that beautiful mouth of his.

“Uh, did I?” Dean asked knock out of a trance, unprepared for the sudden question.

“Yes. Twice actually.”

The dim light in the room revealed a blush creeping up Dean’s ears, like had he been caught with his hands in the cookie jar. “Uhm… Sorry. Novak, was it?”

If anything had ever sounded wrong, that was it. “No, no! No. Castiel is fine. Or Cas, if you like.”

“Okay. Great,” Dean said awkwardly. Dean took a deep breath, like trying to wash away the uncomfortableness with his breath. He plastered on a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes and reached a hand out to Castiel. “I’m Dean.”

Cas looked at it for a second before he took it, mirroring Dean’s smile. “Hello Dean. I’m Cas.”

They got out of the closet – Dean carefully looking for known faces before he let Castiel out – turned out the lights and headed in the direction of the cafeteria.

Neither of them noticed how close they were, as they went side by side through the halls now crowding with students, but as they reached the cafeteria and split up, Dean high fiving Henriksen and Castiel walking towards Balthazar and Anna, they both felt the loss of the other.

Chapter Text

Fueled by a bad practice Dean went straight to Crowley’s dorm and burst in.

A nonchalant Scottish voice meet him, the second he got the door open. “Dean-o, what can I do for you?” Crowley was standing with his back to him at his desk arranging some papers. His attitude didn’t make Dean less angry.

“You can’t shove him around like that!”

Crowley calmly turned around, neither looking surprised nor impressed, but with an attitude that told Dean, he knew exactly what he was talking about. “Is that so?”

Dean heard the sound of his own voice, and realized he hadn’t thought through what he was going to say, despite the tension that yellow-blue mark had imprinted in him hours ago. He didn’t want Cas hurt because he actually liked the guy. He seemed great and there was no reason to smite him at every possible chance. Of course he couldn’t say that to Crowley. “I’m gonna spend hours with him several times a week, so who do you think will get the blame if someone notices he’s hurt, huh?”

“Easy now, mommy tiger – I’m trying to get him out of your ass and you back in the game.”

“I’m gonna be pretty friggin’ out of the game, if they blame me! I’m on thin ice here already and you know it! I’ll be kicked out of this school for good if they think it’s my fault!”

“Calm down, Dean” Dean ran a hand down his face impatiently. “We’re not going to hurt him…” Crowley cocked his head thoughtfully, “- not anywhere it can be seen, at least. No one will notice unless they undress him... And I really think that a couple of bruises would be the least of their worries if someone actually did.”

Crowley was implying something that was more obvious to him, than to Dean, but he felt insulted by the words anyway and the fact that Crowley was going to overhear all he had just been saying. He didn’t even know how he was going to react before he found himself pinning Crowley to his desk, holding him up with a fist in his collar.

“Don’t. Touch him, Crowley!” Dean hissed through his teeth. This was a warning.

“Don’t worry, Dean. He’s not my type,” Crowley answered annoyingly cool and calm.

Dean had no answer to Crowley’s idea of taunting. Instead he pushed him into the desk as he let go and turned around going for the door. He slammed it in repressed anger, as Crowley’s voice sounded, “See you tomorrow, Dean-o!”

---

Dean slept very poorly that night. Thoughts were running through his head and filled his dreams. Thoughts of Cas and football and family.

Cas seemed to fill the most, though. Dean had never seen himself as a violent type of person. Maybe he had some problems controlling his anger sometimes, but usually that was when people pissed him of, and then they kind of had it coming. But Cas hadn’t. He had no clue as to what that gaze of his did to Dean. And he seemed to be such a good guy. Maybe a bit withdrawn in the beginning but Dean couldn’t blame him for that.

It wasn’t like the girls didn’t stare, but that was different. He liked the way Lisa looked at him. Or Meg or the cute redhead he passed in the hall, when walking to biology. They all looked at his toned body which he had been working on since forever. They saw his attitude and he put on the right smirk and, just like that, he had them where he wanted. It was easy. But with Cas, it was like he was looking straight through Dean and saw everything. All the things he wanted to hide behind all the things the girls fell for was pulled out with that gaze. All the things he hated about himself out to wear on his sleeve. Still, he had never looked forward to a detention as much as the one tomorrow and he didn’t get it.

“I must be sadistic”, he mumbled out loud, as he turned in bed caught in his blanket for having moved about since he fell into it hours ago, and yet too tired to do anything about it. He saw the clock on his nightstand turn to 3:01 am. He smiled, reminding himself that the next detention was not tomorrow anymore. It was today.

---

A typical day at St. Vanting Private High School went as follows; you got up at seven, to be ready at breakfast at half past, which meant that the boys usually snoozed till 7:25 while the girls got up at 6:45. The classes started at 8:15. On a Wednesday in the final year, you would start out with English. After that you’d go to chemistry where you would try not to acid any important equipment and then lunch, which is one of the most important things of the day. Then you’d have to go to your optional course; in Dean’s case that would be Shop Class. He liked that. Probably because it was the only thing he was actually getting pretty good grates in, and because Bobby Singer was their teacher. He and Dean had a kind of mutual understanding. Bobby had a sixth sense when it came to Dean; sometimes it was better to leave him alone to work and other times someone had to kick his ass to get him going. Bobby got that. After that you’d have the afternoon of, unless you were the football captain having a game coming up the following Saturday. Then you’d have to sit down with the former captain’s bony ass and plan out a strategy. Then you’d have to do your detention-community service and then down to the field and get the boys to actually play the other team members instead of just playing their own game of one-man-football.

That, of course, is when the day went as it should. This, though, was not one of those days.

Despite Dean’s sleeping problems when he needed to sleep, he managed to sleep quite well come morning, which coursed him to overhear his alarm clock 15 times. When he drowsily opened his eyes to acknowledge the sharp monotone sounds going off next to his face, he realized he was late. Really late. Like 5 minutes-till-class-starts-late. Fuck. He jumped out of bed, getting dizzy as he yanked in his jeans, threw on the least smelly t-shirt lying around and ran down towards the class room, bare feet just rounding the cafeteria where he snatched a lump of bread from a lady in white cafeteria-clothes, cleaning the tables out and yelped at the surprise. She yelled something after him, as he continued unstoppable down the hall. He almost missed the door in his hurry and swung it open as Mr. Shurley reached to “Walker?” on his list.

“Oh, Mr. Winchester, how good of you to join us,” Shurley said smiling sarcastically.

“You too, sir,” Dean got out short of breath and earned a couple of giggles from the girls rows.

Mr. Shurley eyed him up and down taking everything in from his shoeless feet to his messy bed hair and sighed, “Please take a seat Mr. Winchester.”

Dean went down the rows, winking at Lisa on the way who smiled brilliantly at him, as Jo beside her rolled her eyes. In the second row he knew Cas was seated and got all stiff at the thought. How could he not have thought this through? Were they friends now? Should he greet him in some way or should he just ignore his presence as usual? They had only got to know each other for a couple of hours yesterday. No, not even – they had only been talking for half an hour and it was not like they were freaking Bert and Ernie now. Cas had his gaze turned down into a book but too tense to actually be reading. Dean decided to let Cas keep his obvious want not to be acknowledged, and yet he brushed his hand along Cas’ thin shirt sleeve as he went by. It was not an obvious touch, no one would notice it, but it filled Dean with a kind of reassurance. He didn’t know why he did it, or why it made him feel that way, when Cas’s only reaction to it was a slight lift of his gaze to follow the touch. He guessed, he just liked to acknowledge that he noticed him, like did they share a secret no one else knew of.

It was over in a fraction of a second.

He went to the back row a couple of heads behind Cas and sat down at the table he shared with Benny, Gordon at the table next to them.

“Winchester,” Dean looked up as his name was mentioned by his teacher. “I think we have established you’re here,” Mr. Shurley mumbled and put a check mark by his name before he went on.

Benny notched him with his elbow and a smirk. “You look awfully ruffled this morning. Who were you staying in bed for?”

Dean tried to flatten his hair with his hands, “Myself I guess. I couldn’t really fall asleep.”

“I hear ya, man. We aren’t doing very well, are we?”

It took a second for Dean to catch up. Benny was talking football. Of course he was – what else would concern the captain of the team?

He sighed at the thought of last nights practice. How the hell had he become captain for a pack of self-centered bastards? Football is a team sport. Team. But none of them really seemed to get that. Except for Benny and Victor of course.

“Naah. It could be better. I have a meeting with Crowley later on, to discuss Saturday’s line-up.”

Benny peaked at Gordon behind Dean and leaned in, continuing in a hushed voice, “Oh please don’t put me anywhere near Walker! I swear, the next time that guy makes any kind of innuendo, that we have the same approach to anything, I might just burry my fist in his face.”

“Sounds like you have the same approach to some things, then,” Dean said with a smirk and earned another elbow to his rips as Benny giggled out loud.

A loud cough from the blackboard turned their attention to Mr. Shurley at his desk. “Seriously, Winchester? It’s not enough for you to be late, you have to disturb my class during as well?”

“Sorry, sir,” Dean said trying to hide his amusement.

“Maybe you can sum up what we read for today,” Mr. Shurley suggested unquestioningly holding up an old and worn copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray with lots of posits peeping out between the pages.

Dean had downloaded the movie when they got the assignment three weeks ago and figured it was better to watch it than not reading it at all yet he praised himself for actually being able to answer the question. “It’s about some English dude who gets portrayed in a… portrait by a painter-friend. And then he has another friend who likes booze and ladies – which I guess we all can relate to –, “spread giggles raised from around him and he felt himself getting a little higher,”and Dorian sees his point, so he wishes to stay young forever so he does, while his portrait gets all worn out from the lifestyle of the life-Dorian. “

Mr. Shurley frowned, “That’s all you got out of it?”

Dean got knocked down from his high horse, “Sure… that’s what it is about. That’s a summary.”

“Great,” Shurley sighed, “And what about his relationship with the other men in the story?”

Dean thought for a second but nothing came up, “What about them?”

That earned him another sigh. “I thought so. Anyone else?”

Cas slowly raised his hand from the second row and Mr. Shurley gave him the word with a warm; “Novak?”

“Well, the story is obviously inspired by Marlowe’s Faust, but I guess that what you are hinting at, is the homosexual undertones between Gray and his portrayer Hallward and Lord Henry who-,“

“You would know,” Walker coughed out loud and the students started laughing, which made Mr. Shurley drag a hand over his tired face, “Oh, come now, kids. How old are you? Shut up.”

Dean had watched the back of Cas’s head as he tensed op immensely, feeling himself do the exact same.

When the giggles quieted down, Cas continued steadily. Dean admired that.

“It depends on how you see it. The fact that Hallward wants to portray Dorian Gray can be interpreted as a declaration of love yet Wilde denied this and claimed that he had portrayed Hallward, Lord Henry and Gray as three versions of himself. How he saw himself, how others saw him and how he wanted to be,” Dean clenched his fist as he felt Gordon stir at the table next to him, “But this was of course during a trial based on his relationship with another man, so denial is not improbable.”

New spotting words fell, neatly placed, wrapped in the sound of a smile, “Now how is it to live in denial, Castiel?”

White noise flustered Dean’s thinking process and before he noticed Castiel turn around to answer Gordon with a cheeky “I am not living in denial, Gordon, are you?” Dean had already hooked his hand in Gordon and lifted him from his chair, pushed him into the back wall even though Gordon was a bigger guy than him. He was ready to throw a punch but was suddenly pulled back by Benny's firm grip.

Dean got back to reality with Benny’s voice in his ear, “Calm down, brother, calm down.”

Gordon looked overwhelmed by surprise from Dean’s sudden outburst directed at him, “What the fuck, man, who are you?”

Dean tried to get himself under control as Mr. Shurley got in between them. “What is going on here?”

Silence had fallen over the class room and no one answered the teacher as Dean was starring at Gordon with a gaze that might be able to kill a small animal.

“Fine. I have no other choice than to send you to the headmistress!”

Dean’s anger couldn’t wear off. If it had, he might have realized how much trouble he was in. Luckily he had friends covering his back.

“No, please sir,” Castiel said and stood up from his chair in the front of the room. Realizing all eyes on him, Dean could see how he shrunk a little. Even Shurley looked at him astonished and the boy next to Cas was trying to eye him to sit back down.

Jo had also got up, but Lisa pulled her down by her sleeve, saying that this was not their fight without using words, as Jo mouthed ‘dammit Dean’.

Benny tuned in, “It was just a minor misunderstanding, sir, nothing to worry about. It won’t happen again, right Cap’n?”

“Right,” Dean said in a hoarse voice now looking down. Shit. This is not good.

“Dammit, boys, I can’t have you disturb my class like this. Have some respect.” He turned around and went up to his desk, “No, you know what. You can’t change my mind!” He dragged a pencil and paper from a drawer and started writing. “This is for you, Walker.”

Walker passed Dean slamming his shoulder into his before he got to the desk, where he took the note Mr. Shurley reached out and went out of the door.

Shurley scribbled on, “This is for you, Winchester.”

Dean sighed and looked at Benny who shrugged. Before he got past Cas, he stood up again. “Sir, I don’t think this is necessary. Dea- Winchester was just trying to help. There is no reason to send him up there.”

Dean was taken aback by the sudden protection Castiel offered him. “That doesn’t change the facts that this was immensely disturbing, Mr. Novak. Please sit down,” Shurley offered and waved with his note at Dean. He took it and heard Benny be called to the stand and waited for him before he left. Out of his eye he saw Crowley smirking knowingly in his direction.

And that is how you get a perfectly planned out day to get unbelievably far off the rails.

---

Dean looked at the scribbles on his note as he walked the long halls with Benny by his side.

Winchester:

•          Late
•          Not paying attention
•          Starting fight

A short laugh came from Benny as he checked his own note. “Let me see your’s,” he said and they switched.

Lafitte:

•          Contributing to Winchester disturbing

Dean couldn’t help but grin himself. “Great. This is gonna be the way I’m going down,” he said with a hint of doomsday in his voice.

“I got your back, brother,” Benny smirked.

“Obviously,” Dean waved the note between his fingers. “Wonder what it says on Gordon’s note.”

“Probably ‘Contributed to releasing Winchester’s inner mother bear’,” Benny impersonated their English teacher grinning to himself. He realized Dean didn’t follow suit on the amusement and asked on a more serious note, “What happened back there anyway?”

Dean swallowed once. “Gordon was a dick.”

”Gordon is always a dick, and he always deserves a punch, but what has changed since yesterd-… Oh!” Benny interrupted himself and stopped for a second as something dawned upon him. Dean continued walking. He didn’t want to bring this up with Benny. He didn’t want to bring this up with anyone. “The detention!”

He caught up with Dean, and continued, “Did something happen?”

Dean sighed, “We talked. He is actually a pretty nice guy.” They walked out of the door, heading to the office building. He hissed as he stepped out on the cold flagstones on bare feet. The sky was clouded and the cold fall-air gave him goose bumps in his t-shirt.

“And that’s it?”

Dean stopped taken aback by the sudden question. That’s it? Yeah, that is it.  

“What do you mean?”

Benny stopped with him, clutching his hands to his biceps to shield himself from the cold. “You just seemed pretty fierce there for a moment. Haven’t seen you like that before if it had nothing to do with Sam, that’s all.”

“Okay, he seems like a really great guy. He doesn’t deserve Gordon being such an asswhole.”

“From where I was standing he seemed to have sass enough to protect himself and every angel-named person on the planet,” Benny said, smiling challengingly.

Dean had no good answer to that. He had felt anger at Gordon’s comments and he obviously hadn’t been able to control it. There wasn’t much more to it than that. “Can we go in now, you moron, it’s fucking freezing out here.”

---

When they got into the reception Gordon had already went down the hall to the headmistress. Gert was, as always, surprisingly happy to see Dean, but a bit disappointed that he didn’t have any sweets for her today. But then again, the sight of you might be sweet enough in itself. It did seem to lighten her mood, though, that he had brought Benny along, as she draw her reading spectacles from her nose, eyeing him up and down before asking disturbingly interested, And who do we have here?

Deciding it was best to let Gordon have his alone-time with the headmistress first, they waited in the reception till they were called in. Luckily for them, it wasn’t before Gordon had been dismissed.

Naomi leaned back in her chair, as Dean and Benny went through the door, taking place in the chairs Dean felt a little too familiar with at this point, before her white desk. They reached out their notes and after reading them, they elaborated.

“Dean Winchester,” she sighed after their joint story telling. “This was not quite what I had in mind when I thought Castiel’s company would be good for you.” She leaned forward and gathered her hands under her chin thoughtfully, “And only after one day.”

A moment went by as she seemed to think it through. Irrationally Dean began to fear that Naomi would take the detention with Castiel away from him, like that was the worst possible punishment. He wanted to say that his company was good for him. It felt good. But Dean had early on learned that speaking against the headmistress wouldn’t exactly make his case.

“You are not making this easy for me, Winchester,” she sighed and thought for a second longer. “I’ve already warned you too many times and even though this is not the worst thing that could have earned you the final coup de grace, as they say, not suspending you will show me in a bad light.”

Dean held his breath. Is this really it?

“On the other hand you both protected my nephew-”, Benny looked up at Dean surprised, like had it been a secret he hadn’t told his best friend, “-from being verbally abused, as I understand it, which I cannot overlook… Yes,” she continued like had she just made up her mind, “I will set an example by giving you detention for your mutual disturbing of Mr. Shurley’s class, yet lighten the punishment because of your intention.”

Dean let out a breath without really being able to process what she had just said. He looked at Benny who had the same Thank-fucking-God expression on his face.

“If you keep this up, Dean, we soon won’t need any employees at this school,” she said in a more informal tone with a slight smile playing in the corner of her lips reflecting the sight of victory undoubtedly playing in the boy’s eyes, but it was over in a flash and she was back to her usual serious self. “We’ve just got a load full of books handed in, so they will need some help at the library. You can use the rest of the day there and get absenteeism noted for your other classes. This should keep you from being late again,” she said pointing at the first point on Dean’s note.

“Yes, sir. I mean Mrs. I…” Dean stammered high on his relief.

“He means ‘headmistress’. Thank you so much!” Benny took over.

They almost bowed to her as they got up and walked through the door. As soon as the door was closed Dean ran his hands through his hair laughing hysterically as they limped back down the white hallway.

“I can’t believe how freaking lucky you are!” Benny exclaimed and clapped his friend on the back. Dean was too stunned to get anything that sounded even remotely like words out of his mouth before they were outside again.

“Hey, could we maybe stop by the dorms? I think I’d like me shoes on now.”

---

Dean had never been so happy to work for anything in his life. He could stay at the school, he could keep playing and he could keep seeing Cas.

“You know, if it means so much to you to see the guy, he is around all the time. You could just go and ask him if he wants to hang out,” Benny suggested like had he read his mind.

That hadn’t really occurred to him before, and yet the sudden suggestion surprised him, coming from Benny. “What? No, I can’t just go down and knock on his door. How wouldn’t that look?”

“So you do want to?” Benny smiled like plotting something.

Dean looked at him confused. He had been like this all day, what was going on? “What is it with you today?”

“What is it with you today?”

“Okay, now stop it Ben. I told you, he’s a great guy but I have a team to lead and if I start ‘hanging out’ with that dude they’ll all turn against me,” Dean said trying to make Benny understand that whatever game he is playing, Dean was not going to be part of it.

“I won’t. Vic won’t either.”

“Great, that makes us a great football team of three. Very nice,” Dean commented sarcastically.

Benny sighed.

---

They worked through lunch. Benny was in charge of putting new labels on the books while Dean beeped them into the system. Even though the library lady wanted silence on the library she turned out to be pretty awesome, when she got back from the cafeteria with a huge trolley full of food and snacks so they wouldn’t go hungry for a good part of a decade. She had even secured them a slice of the afternoon-pie each. It might be detention but right now it felt like Dean’s idea of heaven.

An hour after everyone had gotten off class he checked his phone. Three missed calls and 9 text messages all from Crowley wanting to know where he was and when they could meet up.

“Screw you, Fergus,” he mumbled and turned off his phone. Benny gave him a wry smile as they filled a small stand on wheels with books before they headed out between the shelves to put them in their respectable places. A few students were gathered at tables around the room studying but otherwise the room was quite.

Stomach full and the emotional ups and downs of the day had made Dean a little tired. It was nice to walk around, phone turned off in Benny’s relaxing presence to find the right shelves to put the right book. Easy peasy.

”H for Hemmingway, H for Hemmingway”, he chanted to himself as he reached a whole between some books on a shelf right before ‘Hemsath’ began, at eyelevel. As he accidently looked through, he caught sight of a familiar messy dark brown hair bend over a book at the table on the other side of the stand. Dean stood perfectly to be able to watch his features change slightly as he reacted to whatever he was reading. A warm feeling spread in Dean’s gut. Cas.

Like had he heard him, Cas looked up and caught his eye, recognizing him with a surprised look before his features relaxed into a smile. Dean wanted to mimic the expression but found that he already did. He just hadn’t noticed.

He had no idea how long he was standing there, lazily with Hemmingway in hand and smiling through a bookshelf taking in Cas’s form and stunning blue eyes, but hearing his name, was not what got him out of his trance.

Benny grasped his arm and shook him before Dean got back to real life. “Dean, dammit. Where are you right now?” he asked keeping his voice down. Dean looked at Benny’s confused expression. He looked between Dean and the empty part on the shelves before he leaned in and peaked. As he draw back that same smirk he had been wearing all day was plastered back on his face as he looked at Dean.

“Oh, shut up,” Dean waved him off and filled a couple of Hemingway-copies into the empty space.

“I’m not. Saying. Anything,” Benny hummed almost triumphantly as he took some books from Dean’s rolling stand and walked to another part of the library.

---

They finished up at the library at the same time as diner started downstairs; the same time as Dean’s other detention began.

As they reached the end of the stairs, Benny waved him off with a See you later at practice! before they parted. Dean went to the janitor’s closet but discovered that last night’s buckets already had been removed.

At the girl’s hall, Dean was greeted by a sight for sore eyes. Castiel was kneeling at a door in the middle of the corridor, smiling at him as he approached, which made Dean’s heart jump.

“Hi,” Castiel greeted him “Library duty over?”

“Yeah,” Dean grinned, “Yeah, luckily for me your wonderful aunt doesn’t seem to hate me as much as first expected.”

“I see that,” Castiel smiled and reached a bucket to Dean. “I’ve actually already been through most of the hall. There’s only these two left,” he said gesturing to the door next to his.

“You decided to start early or something?”

“Not really,” Castiel admitted, “I was just right; there were only a couple of scribbles on four doors, so it didn’t take very long to get rid of.”

Dean accepted the sponge Cas handed to him fingers brushing as he did. Cas looked away.

Dean looked at the door where he was standing and gave out a small laugh. “This is awesome. This is Jo’s door. Oh man, she’s gonna kill me for cleaning this out.”

Cas frowned putting all his strength into rubbing at a sentence on the door next to Dean’s. “Why would she kill you?”

“Because she did all of this herself. All of it,” Dean pointed with a dripping sponge at words and drawings on her door. Even if her nametag hadn’t been highlighted with a zigzag pattern he still wouldn’t have doubted the owner of this door. He shook his head at the thought of her and started the job.

Cas leaned in next to Dean, ‘Why would she write ‘my cock is bigger than your mom’s’?”

Dean couldn’t stop laughing. Jo was awesome and seeing this over-decorated door of hers he missed spending time with her. Yet he had never thought that words like that would ever come out of an innocent mind and pretty mouth like Castiel’s. He stopped abruptly at that thought. Pretty mouth. Where the hell did that come from? Dean turned to look at Castiel, taken aback by his own thought process. Cas was back at rubbing hard on the next door-door, mouth twisted up in a smile from Dean’s laughing. His lips were surprisingly full of a man’s yet not in a way you would notice if you didn’t look for it. They looked soft. Blue eyes turned to his as Castiel noticed that Dean had stopped moving. Dean didn’t notice his breath increasing in speed as he watched little muscles move Cas’s mouth. First his lips parted in surprise, then a slight move at the corner. Cas swallowed. Dean was transficed. Ever so slowly but immensely provoking Cas let his tongue out and caressed his lips...

A creak of a door sounded and Cas disappeared from Dean’s sight as he fell inside of the room beside Dean, as a girl inside only wrapped in a towel started screaming. Dean rolled over too get a better look, and burst out laughing from Castiel’s surprised face laying on his back between the girl’s feet. The girl jumped over him and almost dropped her only substitute for clothing. As Castiel’s surprise wore off he started laughing with Dean not able to get up. Dean looked at that laugh and couldn’t tear his eyes away from the crying-of-amusement feeling that filled Cas’s face. Not until…

“Dean?”

Dean looked up and realized that he knew the girl. ‘Knew’ might be an exaggeration, he didn’t remember her name but he was pretty sure he had been there. Last year. Maybe around springtime? In other words he knew a lot of her but he didn’t know her.

Dean cleared his throat and tried not to giggle, “Oh, hey, hi!”

“What are you doing here?”

“Detention,” Dean said gesturing to their line-up of sponges, products and water-filled buckets. Castiel sat up looking at him still giggling, and for a second Dean forgot all about the almost naked girl in front of him.

“Great,” she said still stunned in surprise. She looked at him, took a deep breath and visibly changing her posture, pouting her lips and folding her face expression into features that Dean knew way too well, “So, uhm, you coming to Crowley’s party after the game Saturday?”

Usually Dean put on his most charming smirk; the one he knew the girl’s wanted – expected, really –but he couldn’t muster it. “Sure,” he said with a tired smile and sighed, “I already promised Lisa, so I guess I’ll go.”

Her smile faded a bit at that. She fluttered with her eyelashes in an unnatural way before she exclaimed, “Okay, great. See you then!” and bounced off.

He looked back at Cas who was sitting in the doorway, smile all gone looking towards the leaving girl.

“Hey,” Dean said, managing to get Cas to look at him again. Dean smiled at him warmly and Cas swallowed before returning the smile carefully.

They finished the doors off in no-time, even though Dean required assistance to get Jo’s door done. He liked having Cas this close feeling his warmth and brushes. It felt somehow comfortable. Safe. Right.

Cas cleared his throat as Dean picked up the buckets to go to the nearest drain to empty them for water. “Do you still want to go over some of the homework?”

Dean checked his watch; they still had one and a half hour to go. He could eat something, but then again he always could, and if he went to diner he would have to be confronted with the team and Crowley for everything that had happened today including not answering Crowley. It was Wednesday. Saturday’s game wasn’t running anywhere for a couple of days and he was awfully behind with his studies.

“Sure, man. I’d like that.”

Castiel suggested going back to the library where it was unlikely for them to be disturbed by anyone. They found a table hidden by bookshelves at the end of the room where they sat down opposite each other. If Dean had felt tired before, he felt even more tired now when he got to sit down probably. He felt a headache starting to stir.

“Are you okay, Dean?” Castiel asked looking worried.

“Just been a long day, that’s all,” he said smiling at Cas. There wasn’t really any good reason for him to smile now but looking at Cas’s worried expression made him want to, so he did.

“Okay,” Cas answered smiling back taking some books from his back pack, “And you are sure you are up for this?”

Dean stretched in his seat and sighed, “Yeah, I’m sure.”

They started off with some math, one of Dean’s less brilliant areas, but Cas taught him a new way to calculate fractions and that got him started pretty well. When Dean got bored he would say something that made Castiel laugh and it renewed his energy. Cas was reading biology opposite Dean and sometimes Dean peaked up from his scribbles and watched Cas a little before he went back and other times Cas returned his glare smiling and shaking his head at Dean before returning to his studies.

At some point, Dean moved over to the chair next to Castiel, as he decided it was easier for Cas to explain the percent-part that way. Their knees touched under the table but neither of them did anything about it.

“Oh, I almost forgot!” Cas suddenly said reaching down into his backpack and drew a couple of identical books up. “This is the new book we have to read in English. And you can’t watch this one on film,” he said unsuccessfully hiding a smirk.

Dean had no idea how he knew, that he hadn’t turned a page in the Dorian Gray-book, but obviously he did. “Dammit,” he swore ironically and reached out for one, “What is it?”

“It’s a Dickens. It’s called ‘Our Mutual Friend’,” Castiel said turning his copy in his hands, “I haven’t read it before.”

“Neither have I,” Dean huffed at the book, sliding a finger down its brown, worn back and lay it down on the table, not even the slightest bit curious of what it might contain. It looked boring. It sounded boring. 

“You are not much of a reader are you?”

Dean snorted, “Not really. I don’t see the point of me reading old books.”

Castiel huffed amused, “Well, I don’t know why but I like reading. I probably would have been a whole other person if I hadn’t read as much as I did as a kid.”

Dean looked at him curiously, encouraging him to continue.

“My home was filled with Bible-friendly books. Not that there is anything wrong with that, but there weren’t much criticism to that part of the world on the shelves back there. And it was all that were preached wherever I went. We didn’t have TV and I was homeschool till eighth grade by my oldest brother, so if my other brother Gabriel hadn’t been hiding forbidden books in our shared bedroom I would probably have seen the world from a very narrow perspective… Not to mention how much I would have hated myself.”

Dean shook his head. “Why would you hate yourself for being narrow-minded? Then you wouldn’t really know what to hate, would you?”

Cas swallowed and looked down suddenly seeming embarrassed. He fiddled with a loose corner of Our Mutual Friend before he went on, “You know… my sexuality is not really something you speak of growing up in a home like that, but…” he swallowed again before looking back up at Dean with clear blue eyes, “It’s not like you don’t feel it anyway.”

Dean lost his breath for a second, before beginning to grasp it. He felt like an idiot, “So, uhm… you? Yeah… yeah, of course.”

Castiel frowned at him now sounding annoyed, “I thought you knew I was gay seeing as your buddies seem to promote it at every chance they get.”

Dean straightened up, “Yeah, no… It’s not like… I hadn’t really thought about it, I guess. I mean…”

He felt Cas withdraw, and silently asking, “Do you mind?” He looked at him like searching for an answer in his face. Dean filled out the rest of the sentence in his head, ‘that I’m gay?’

Dean took a deep breath and tried to line his thoughts up in a row. “No,” he said without meaning to, “No, I don’t.” A silence fell between them as Cas’s skeptical look at Dean slowly merged out. Dean didn’t mind Cas was gay. He guessed, he knew all along, he honestly just hadn’t really thought about it that way. ‘Faggot’ was just a nickname you gave people you disliked for some reason. It hadn’t really anything to do with sexuality in his mind. And if Dean had learned anything from the last two days, it was that he liked being around Cas. And when he wasn’t he caught himself thinking about yesterday when they spoke for the first time, or looking forward to today and the time he would spend with him now. He really, really liked it.

Something eased in Castiel’s expression like had Dean’s face somehow showed every thought that went through his head. He felt Cas’s thigh brush his own and realized that he might have moved a bit closer without noticing.

Cas smiled shyly. “Thank you,” he said almost as a whisper.

Steps emerged and the library lady turned out from behind a shelve, moving a hand to her heart as she was startled by the two boys sitting silently in the back of her library.

“Oh, Dean, you startled me there.”

Dean smiled at her without turning himself away from Cas, “Sorry, ma'am.”

“I’m gonna have to turn out the lights now boys. You can turn on that table lamp,” she pointed at a lamp, next to Cas, who flicked it on, “and then you can stay as long as you like – I won’t lock the door – just remember to turn off the lights when you leave. Enjoy yourselves,” she said and turned to leave but added, “Oh, Dean. I really appreciated the effort today. I’m gonna tell the headmistress how hard-working you and Benjamin were. Thank you again.”

“My pleasure,” Dean said and couldn’t help but wink at her of sheer habit. It seemed to make her day as she bounced off.

“Dean?” Castiel asked smiling.

“What? I like to be on first name with people.”

Castiel grinned at him and opened the worn book. Dean rested his head in his hand and looked at Cas, until Cas seemed annoyed by it. “You know,” he said, “you could open that book and start reading too.”

“Naah, it’s easier if you just do it and sum it up for me afterwards.”

Cas sighed defeated, “I can read it to you?”

“Yeah, you do that. I’ll just lay here for a sec,” Dean yawned and pillowed his arm on the table, head turned to Cas who started reading.

The lights went out as Dean looked up at Cas, expressions featured in the dim light from table lamp, while listening to his deep voice that got more and more sleepy. Dean liked that sound. Soon Castiel mirrored Dean’s position on the table, so he could still read the pages lazily. Dean felt Cas’s leg lean against his even further and noticed their fingers were only inches apart, but he didn’t mind. Maybe there were a lot of things he didn’t mind.

The slow, deep voice and warmth next to him, was like a lullaby slowly making his eyelids heavier. He didn’t even listen to the words anymore, only the sound of them. He felt something warm and welcoming touch his hand and when he felt fingers, he grabbed them as the lights went out.

Chapter Text

Castiel felt a buzz in his pocket but it wasn’t annoying enough for him to react. He was tired. Besides, who would call him in the middle of the night?

It stopped. It probably wasn’t that important.

Then again, if someone would call him in the middle of the night it might be important. Isn’t that why people would call at a godforsaken hour like this? It could be his farther or brothers… naaah, unless someone was dying they wouldn’t call. And if that was the case, they would probably wait until tomorrow seeing as a death didn’t go anywhere. It could be Balthazar? No, Balthazar would be asleep now and if there was something up he could always just walk down to his dorm and knock on his door. For a second he wanted it to be Gabriel, but he couldn’t figure out any good reason for him to call after 4 years of complete silence. He had almost gotten used to not having his cheeky big brother around and he wanted to leave it at that. He clenched his fingers to the warmth he was holding on to and buried his face a little deeper into his hard pillow. It made a quite ripping noise.

Maybe it was Dean. He was important. But he didn’t have his number and would he ever call if he did? No. No, it was definitely not Dean. He must be sliding into one of those dreams again…

His phone went off again and the warmth in his hand stirred and slid in further between his fingers. What?

Ripped from the surface of his sleep, he sat up in the hard chair so fast he almost knocked himself backwards; a page from Our Mutual Friend followed him up, stuck to his cheek. Confused he waved it off of his face desperate to get a look at what had been touching his hand. On the table in front of him, illuminated in the dim light from the table lamp, lay another hand. He blinked his eyes and shook his head trying to get rid of the sleep and dizziness fogging his mind. He looked around before he realized that he was still in the library. Dean was the warmth beside him. Of course. And it was his hand that lay stretched out on the table where his own had left it. His fingers started curling back and a frown started gathering in his features as his eyes blinked open.

Cas froze. This was it. The end of friendship, but if you don’t do anything it might go away. Cas could still feel the unfamiliar touch of skin against his hand. Dean rubbed his eyes with his hands before he froze too. He held out his left hand in misbelieve. He looked from his hand to Cas and back again. He held it up in front of him as if it somehow gave away any clues off the warmth that were left on the skin. Cas was not in denial, though he wished he had never fallen asleep in the library holding Dean Winchester’s hand. Never the less the fainting phantom touch between Cas’ fingers covering the back of his hand holding it tight was unmistakable. Whoever had started the whole thing he couldn’t be sure of but just now, with their fingers entwined together… He was pretty sure he wasn’t the one who would dare to make that move - not even in his sleep – which meant that… No, it couldn’t be. Warmth spread within Castiel despite that the room had gone chilly from the cold autumn-night and he was thankful for the dim light.

The expression in Dean’s face made Castiel’s body temperature drop a couple of degrees from the inside and out. But what had he expected? This whole hand-holding-thing was nothing but an unconscious action of sleep, hands so close. It was probably some kind of basic human instinct to reach out for something, for some kind of security while you were out.

A combined wave of sudden fear and disappointment washed over him.

Dean cleared his throat. “Something is vibrating in your pocket, and I really hope it’s your phone.”

Dean’s voice rough from sleep, send a fuzzy feeling through Castiel, but he let it slide. There was nothing else to do.

Castiel reached down into his pocket just as the phone went on voicemail again and stopped buzzing. Dean got up next to him and started gathering the books and pencils spread on the table.

Cas’s screen lit up:

Three missed calls from BALTHAZAR

5 New text messages

“Shit,” Dean mumbled looking at the watch on his wrist, “I missed the practice.” Cas heard the words but couldn’t really find any regret to them. “We gotta go to bed. It’s a quarter past 12.”

“Yes. Of course,” Cas said in quite agreement. He looked at his phone debating whether to call Balthazar back or text him. He looked through the text messages. Four from Bal all saying ‘I need to find you, you damned idiot’ in various ways getting more and more insisting and one from Anna, saying that Cas had to check his phone, because Bal was getting on her nerves. That one was an hour old. He decided on texting him.

Fell asleep at the library. Go to bed. C.

A silence fell between them and Castiel felt awkward. Not that the dim light and massive quite from all over the school invited to conversation, but not long ago they had shared a comfortable silence of the library and that felt good. But that was long gone now.

Dean led the way out as Cas turned off the light and stood still for a moment waiting for his eyes to grow accustomed to the darkness in the windowless library. They didn’t though. He reached his hands out and fumbled his way along a bookshelf, as he heard Dean’s steps somewhere in the dark. He realized the darkness wouldn’t evaporate and he knew why. He hated this.

He took a deep breath to calm himself before he called out quietly, “Dean?”

“Hm?” Dean’s mumble sounded a couple of feet away but out of his reach.

Cas got to the end of a bookshelf and remembered the exit was far up to his right but nothing but darkness stretched before him. He couldn’t even make out the shelves near him without touching them.

“Dean, I… “ Cas trailed off not sure if Dean was even able to hear him anymore.

“You scared of the dark, Cas?” Dean called out with a sarcastic edge to his voice from the far end of the room.

“No! But…” he let a sigh out in relieve - at least Dean hadn’t left him. “I… I might be slightly night-blind,” he admitted.

“Sure,” Dean said ironically.

“No, Dean, I’m serious-” Cas began feeling anxious but cut himself off as he heard steps emerged getting slower and more careful with each step. He moved in the direction of the sound and stretched his arms out to feel for something, but no heat emerged. No movement.

Suddenly a hand slid up his left sleeve and he gasped out ungracefully and turned around, reaching out in blindness and caught Dean’s t-shirt sleeve.

“There you are,” Dean said with a rough laugh in his throat at the sound Cas had made in his fright.

For a moment Castiel was too surprised to move and when Dean didn’t move away from his touch from the muscled upper arm either, Castiel stayed in astonishment; taking in the feeling of closeness.

Dean broke the silence with a cough. “Uhm… Night-blind? Is that actually a thing?”

Cas felt an urge to tell Dean that he wasn’t kidding. It was not funny, but instead he pretended to be annoyed. “Yes. Look it up.”

Dean sighed at Cas’ hostile tone, “Whatever you say, man. Here – uhm – just... take my hand, okay?”

Cas swallowed and forgot how to breathe, as both he and Dean blindly felt their way towards each other’s hands, Castiel maybe slightly more persistent than Dean.

As they reached the stairwell a dim moonlight was cast through a high up window and Castiel could make out the contour of Dean in front of him and the stairs beneath. He clutched both hands to Dean’s for the best support down, yet he almost tripped over his own feet on the way, but that had definitely nothing to do with him being a little too transfixed on the slim shadow in front of him, tucking him along, but he liked the sound of Dean whispering, “I’ve got you,” just within ear reach.

As they turned the corner to the dorms, a flashlight was immediately directed at them in all its blinding glory.  Dean stopped abruptly and Castiel collided with his back and made a small noise.

“Shh,” Dean hushed.

Beyond Dean’s shoulder, Cas could see an outlining of a person standing in the middle of the hallway. Dean covered his eyes with an arm from the sudden light shining upon them. Cas squeezed his eyes together hoping to get a view of whoever was standing there and hopped nervously it wasn’t Azazel having the night watch. The squeeze from Dean’s hand had him believe they shared the thought.

“Oh no,” Cas heard the other person exclaim silently redrawing the flashlight as he slowly backed off.

Cas recognized the voice. “Balthazar? What are you doing up? I told you to go back to bed!”

He got out from behind Dean and Balthazar stopped backing off, directing the flashlight to the floor so it illuminated his features. Bal looked surprised at Cas before he flicked his eyes to Dean and his expression changed to worry. He took a step towards them.

“Cas? Are you okay?”

“Yeah, I’m fine, Bal, wha-“ as Balthazar approached Cas noticed the bruised outlining of a black eye still taking form. He let go of Dean’s hand without even noticing as he approached Balthazar fearfully. “What happened to you?” he asked.

Bal lifted a hand to his tender eye, like had he forgotten all about it. “Nothing. I’ll tell you later. But what about you?” He answered with a hand on his shoulder, looking over his face to find any signs of injurie, before glancing at Dean.

“Oh, come on man!” Dean exclaimed a bit too loudly, “I haven’t touched him!”

Well, that isn’t quite true, but Cas new what he meant. “No, no. We were just working on some school stuff and fell asleep at the library.”

Bal looked at him with a disbelieving expression, “The library?! You couldn’t answer your damn phone in the library? I’ve looked everywhere for you!”

“I’m sorry, Balthazar but can we take this tomorrow instead? It’s really late and-“

“I’m not doing this for you, Castiel! I don’t exactly find it funny to walk around here looking for you all night, but those hairless apes had no idea where their tribe chief was-“ he pointed in the direction of Dean who exclaimed a warningly ‘Hey!’ as Balthazar went on, “so they assumed he was with you – which apparently was right, for once – but then they wrongly assumed that I knew where you were and tried to get it out of me! And then you were with him!”

Castiel was taken aback by Balthazar’s sudden anger. He was usually very calm, but the fact that Cas had been hiding out with Dean all night was apparently too much for him.

“I… I’m sorry, Bal. I didn’t feel my phone go off – and I did send you a text-”

“Hey, I’d like to know something.” Dean said suddenly challenging Balthazar as he took the few steps up to them, “What’s so wrong about him being with me?”

“What?” Balthazar looked more confused than ever.

“What if Cas here actually likes my company, you think of that?” Dean asked accusingly but Balthazar had become fierce and didn’t back off.

“Cas?” Bal looked to Castiel in disbelieve as he heard the nickname and Cas just shrugged his shoulders. He liked it when Dean called him that. Bal continued, “You taunted him on several occasions and blew the air out of his lungs with a… a sucker punch! “ Cas couldn’t help by smile as he heard his own words come out of Balthazar’s mouth.

“I never taunted him!”

“Maybe, but you didn’t stop it either!” Bal poked a finger into Dean’s chest, but Dean only seemed amused by it, “And you could have stopped it at any time!”

A smile played on Dean’s lips, “Oh, really? Bal, was it? Maybe Cas and I just got off on the wrong foot there.”

“Yeah, I’m sure that’s what you tell yourself, Dean, but unlike you I actually know Castiel and he is a decent guy and actually capable of feeling empathy as opposed to some,” Bal stopped for a second as he silently realized something. “What are you up to?” he asked suspiciously.

Dean huffed at him like this was beneath his standard, “Oh calm down grandpa – I don’t got some evil plan to have Cas join whatever dark side you think I’m on.”

“I don’t think. I know!” Bal exclaimed through gritted teeth.

Cas broke in between them, “Bal, please. I was the one who suggested to work in the library, but I’ll tell you about that tomorrow, okay? Let’s just get some sleep!”

“Cas, will you come and watch our practice tonight?”

Cas was surprised to say the least. Where had that come from? He looked up to see a self-satisfied smile on Dean’s lips. “Please? It’s our last practice before the game, and the cheerleaders will be rehearsing too so I imagine there’ll be a lot people at the stands anyway.”

Cas thought about the last time he’d watched Dean play. Except from the unexpected aftermath it wasn’t exactly an unpleasant experience watching Dean in his right element. And why not, really, when Dean was asking him this time?

“Uh. Yeah, sure” he said feeling a stupid smile playing on his lips at the thought of how much of Dean his soaked clothes had revealed the last time. He turned to Bal who looked directly through Cas at Dean with eyes lit with inner fire and Cas realized the question was just a part of their verbal warfare; Dean playing with his muscles.

“I mean maybe. I’ll think about it.” The correction didn’t seem to peel Dean down as he kept smiling victoriously at Bal, more or less ignoring Cas.

“Great, see you there then,” he said before he took of back to his dorm room at the beginning of the hallway.

Castiel had never received a sterner look from Balthazar.

 ---

When Castiel woke up the next morning he felt like had he just then lain his head on the pillow except for a rather vivid dream that had played itself over and over in his head. A rather pleasant dream that he would have loved to stay wrapped in to see where it would lead, the alarm clock rang and a new day began.

With sleep still weighing on his eyes, and books in his hand, he went towards his first class, brushing backpacks and elbows with half the school in the morning-crowded hallways until someone yanked a shoulder hard into his own and he flew sideways into the wall, gaining complaints from the students he almost took with him the fall. He looked up, surprised and slightly shocked; shook out of his drowsiness, but only saw students moving and pushing to get to their classes in time.

“Watch it, faggot!” he heard someone yell but whoever is was, he was lost in the crowd.

He rubbed his shoulder and reached out for the books scattered at his feet, but another pair of hands were already there, gathering and handing them to Cas with the most friendly smile he had ever gotten from a stranger. The boy was new at the school and most likely a junior, with brown hair and a smile that reached his green eyes, which slightly reminded him of Dean for a second, but he shook the thought away. He couldn’t keep letting Dean slip into his mind by every given chance.

“Thank you,” he said slightly apologetic for the inconvenience.

“No problem. Those guys can be jerks – trust me, I know,” he said. He nodded as he accepted the books from the boy’s hand. He didn’t want the kid to be seen with him like that; as a newcomer he would most likely be picked on in no time for this kindness and this kid seemed so kind.

“Well, see you around,” the boy said beating him to it. He pulled up in the strap of his backpack before he disappeared into the crowd.

 ---

“’Morning,” he muttered to Balthazar as he slid down in his seat next to him, and opened his European History book on page 177 marked with a dog-ear. He could recite the French Revolution before he planted his feet at this school and liked to reread about it once in a while. Something about the whole uprising and horrible beheadings intrigued him.

As Mrs. Ballard went over the blackboard with important years and dates, Bal never uttered a word or dignified Cas with a gaze and Castiel felt an uncomfortable vibe between them. Balthazar looked at least as tired as Castiel felt. Apparently he wasn’t the only one who suffered from a bad night’s sleep. Bal must have felt the gaze as he looked at Cas slightly annoyed and it was first then Cas noticed that the black shadow under Bal’s eye wasn’t a shadow but a bruise mocking his face.

Suddenly the events of last night dawned on him. He hadn’t been dreaming it all. Dean’s hand in his was real and spread a warm feeling and a suppressed smile filled his lip, but Balthazar’s black eye and the events leading to that was even more real, and Cas felt hurt at the bare sight of him.

Balthazar turned away and ripped a page from his notepad and scribbled on it before he passed it on to Cas deliberately looking at their teacher as she continued her explanations.

Don’t go to the practice just because he asked you to.

It took a moment for Cas to catch up. Right, Dean had asked him to come and watch the last practice before their first real game of the season. He had heard it was a kind of thing that students actually went to, to support the school’s team as a way of kicking in the season for both the footballers and the cheerleaders.

He scribbled his answer down and passed it to Bal: I told him I’d go.

Bal read and answered: You withdrew that. Besides you know he only said it because it would bother me and to manipulate you.

Balthazar was right, but some part of him liked to think that the Dean he had spent time with the last two days seemed more real, than the Dean he usually passed in the corridors with his friends and teammates around. And he really liked that side of him. Not the one he showed when he was somewhat competing with Balthazar. 

He is actually a very nice person. He is chatty and funny and-h Maybe he honestly just wants me to come.

Balthazar sighed as he read the note and his shoulder tensed as he rubbed his good eye.

Don’t think you know him after only two days. Don’t forget the facts – what we know of him.

What would he get out of being so nice to me, when we are alone, if it isn’t just how he is?

If you hadn’t taken the blame and gotten the detention – which I still don’t get btw – he would probably have been kicked out already. You said you were doing homework together, right? He’s obviously using you. The whole team probably knows too.

Castiel tensed up, as he read through the message on the pad. Maybe he shouldn’t have told Balthazar about it, but he needed to talk to someone about it at the time and who better than his best friend, which made his next note simple:

He doesn’t know.

I thought he would have asked by now?

He did but I didn’t answer. Think he has forgotten.

Balthazar took the notepad and looked at the words as his gaze became distant. Cas listened to Mrs. Ballard a hand under his chin. Just before he felt his face slide from his hand as his eyelids became heavy, Bal slid the notepad back to him.

Cas, I don’t want you at that thing today.

Please.

 ---

When the last class had gone by he was exhausted. At lunch both Dean and him had gotten the message, that they were supposed to clean up the locker rooms after the practice to night, which had him looking forward to it and then again slightly fearing it after the events of last night. Thoughts had flowed around in his head all day and he was immensely confused. Of course he wanted to go see Dean at the practice too – he couldn’t remember a time when he hadn’t wanted that – but knowing that Bal was right in the fact that his best friend and his long-time crush had just measured centimeters, made him doubt Dean’s intentions.

He had taken his time getting his things gathered after class. He didn’t want to go with Balthazar. He wanted to be alone with his entangled thoughts. In English Class Dean had walked past him in the same way as he did yesterday; a little too close for it to be a coincidence, fingers brushing his shirt, like had he really wanted to lay a reassuring hand on his shoulder, but kept himself from doing it. He walked towards the exit, brushing his hand along his table to remember the feeling of something foreign against his fingers. He may have wishfully been interpreting a lot more into the random touches between them, than there really was, but no matter have false, he had hoped it would calm his mind thinking about it. It didn’t though.

As he closed the door to the classroom behind him, someone shoved him hard back into it; the back of his head slammed into the glass window in the door and he saw stars.  

“Took you quite a while to get outta there. Where you daydreaming of your lover boy?” a deep voice sneered with disgust.

Cas shook his head trying to regain some stability. He tried to walk past his abuser but a hand shoved him back against the door and held him there. He gave up. He looked up at Walker’s face. It was serious and angry, which surprised Cas for a moment. Usually he wore a small smirk when he felt like pushing people around, but not today. Well, at least he was alone.

He took a firm grip in Castiels upper arm, like a parent would a naughty child. “Come with me,” he said and dragged him along.

Cas fought the grip and tried to hold onto something on the way. “Sorry, but you’re not my type, Walker.”

“Shut up and walk, dammit.”

Walker was strong and dragged him along down the halls effortlesly, but in his defense Cas only struggled back halfheartedly. Those arms would take him along whether he wanted it or not. They passed a couple of students on the way, but no one dared to intrude. It was first when Cas realized Walker was dragging him towards the locker rooms he panicked. He already felt the humiliation from the whole football team or maybe it was just Crowley, but never the less; if he got into the locker rooms there was no getting out. He started to struggle, trying to fight his way out of Walkers grip, but he only took a firm hold in both his wrists and backed him forcefully into the boy’s locker room. He tripped over the entrance, but Walker held him up and pushed him further into the room, echoing with each step and moan.

The room was empty. He looked at Walker’s troubled but hard face navigating Cas through the row of lockers. “What are you doing Walker? Just let me go.”

“Fuck you, Novak,” he answered and shoved him up against a locker, one hand firmly planted on his chest to keep him pinned.

“What did I ever do to you?”

Walker stepped into his personal space with a pointing finger in his face. “Shut. Up,” he ordered threat-like, before he withdrew his finger and started struggling with the lock beside them, as he mumbled to himself.

The back of Cas’s head still hurt and he felt a little dizzy, but before long Walker chanted “05, 02, 8, 3” and a small click sounded. Before Cas had any idea what was going on, he was shoved inside the sweat-smelling locker and the door was closed.

Small click sounded again before Cas realized his situation. “No! No, no, no. Let me out of here! Walker? Walker!” He hammered on the metal door.

The three short bares in the top of the door let in a little light, but where suddenly shadowed by Walker’s figure. He slammed a hand hard into the metal on the outside and Castiel quieted. “You shut up in there, you hear me! And don’t tell me you won’t like it, that place must smell familiar by now!”

Tears filled his eyes. This was too much. He couldn’t lock him in a cramp closet. This was just not… no! “You can’t fucking leave me here, Walker. Let me out!”

Walker hammered back once again and yelled loudly, “Just shut up!”

Cas stopped as he watched the shadow disappear and he heard the door shut again. He was cramped into the small space with a metal wall pushing at him at every side. He could hardly stand for the football boots in the bottom of the closet and a smelly t-shirt was hanging from a hook above his head, falling down the side of his face.

If he shouted loud enough someone in the hallway might hear him, but there weren’t a lot of people in the hallways near the physical education areas in the middle of the day and the chance of getting a footballer’s attention was higher than anyone else at the school. On the other side he could just stand there and then wait for the footballers to get ready and then he would definitely surprise whoever owned this locker. Unless Walker had told everyone and he would just be held there for the fun of it. Or he could hope that the janitor or the cleaning lady had something to do there before the training began and then they would help him out.

He decided to bring his phone to classes from then on.

About twenty minutes later the door swung open and the only voice Cas could think of in the whole wide world, he didn’t want to hear sounded in its Scottish unctuous way, “What do you have to do to get an appointment with you around here?”

For a second Cas thought he was talking to him, but whoever owned the single pair of steps behind Crowley sighed as the door was closed. “Can we just get this over and done with, I’ve got stuff to do.”

Cas felt relieve at the sound of Dean’s voice. For some reason he was sure Dean wouldn’t hurt him anymore. Not after their encounter in the janitor’s closet where he had looked so wounded. But with Crowley in the room Cas was doing his best to stand as still and breath as silent as humanly possible.

“You could at least show some kind of regret that you didn’t show up at our meeting or practice and have the dignity to lie about the reason instead of ‘I was in the library with my new gay angel love interest.’”

“Nice, Crowley. You feel better now, getting that of your chest?”

Crowley sighed loudly,“Fine, you ungrateful bastard. Sit.”

From the bars in his closet Cas could make out some of Dean as he sat astride the bench in front of the closets. Crowleys voice sounded from further down the bench as they started to discuss the line-up for Saturday. Dean was very persistent of getting Walker in the offense and LaFitte in defense, but aside from that it wasn’t hard for them to reach an agreement.

“Good. I actually think this is gonna be pretty good,” Dean got up from the bench.

“I’m not done, Dean, sit down,” Crowley ordered with affected calm.

Dean didn’t sit but just asked with a tired sigh, “What now, man? I told you, I’m busy.”

“With what, Dean-o? You actually doing your homework now?”

“Screw you, man,” Dean said as he walked on towards the exit.

“Hey!” Crowley shouted out and Dean stopped walking. “You can’t fucking ditch me just because you think you found a higher call, Dean! This is it for you, football! Without it you are nothing!”

“I’m doing my best here, Crowley, but if I can’t keep my grates just average, football won’t be enough.”

“That is true, but for every minute that passes you lose the respect of your teammates, and how can you lead a team if they don’t respect you?”

Dean sighed again and Cas could only imagine how he let a hand run down his face, “What do you want me to do, Crowley, huh?”

“For one thing you could start by not engaging in whatever it is you are doing with your new boyfriend-”

“Oh, cut it out, Crowley.”

Crowley let out a small laugh, “You have no idea how obvious you are, have you?" He got up from the bench and walked in Dean's direction, "Whenever anyone says anything about him you flip – and you walk closer to him than your brother, with whom you already have slightly unhealthy relationship. And you “accidently” brush him when you have to pass him in class. What is that? I mean, I expected that from him, but you?”

Was that actually possible? Would Dean act like that about any friend or was there any possibility that there was more to it than that.

Dean’s voice got stern and turned, “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” into a warning.

The lack of denial made Cas palms sweaty and his mouth dry.

“Keep your head in the game, Winchester. Eyes on the ball.”

“Those boys of yours are savages. If they decide to turn on me there is not much I can do about it.”

Dean had pushed Crowley’s wrong buttons for a little too long and he lost it, “I don't think you know what's on stake here, kiddo, so let me paint this one out for you. You are the Captain of my team because I chose you to be. You have leadership potential and as long I can vow for you, you are their Captain. But if you give them – or me – the slightest reason not to trust you, you are out. And if you are out of the team you will be nothing but waste of time for this school. They will kick your lame ass out without as much as a 'bye' and you can go home to your sorry-ass family without anything like a high school graduation to your name. You can go to the army, get traumatized and become a mean drunk like your ol' daddy and maybe some poor chick will pity you some day and take you into her bed and give you some children that you can hit once in a while, as you blame them, that you didn't listen to Crowley in your senior year of high school!”

That might have been the only thing in the world Dean had no sassy response to. It was clear to Cas that neither of them knew he was their overhearing everything.

Dean’s voice had dropped half an octave and had gone husky, “See you at the game, Crowley.”

“Eyes on the ball, Dean,” Crowley shouted after him, in a victorious voice, as Dean left the room.

Crowley took a minute to walk around in the room. As he passed Cas’s locker, Cas held his breath and stood as steady as he could manage. After a couple of slightly nerve-racking minutes Crowley huffed and mumbled “Who’s the king now,” to himself before he walked out.

If Casiel had been able to fall back in relieve, he would have. Instead he just sighed and relaxed his body. The tight walls would keep him on his feet anyway.

He tried to process what he had just heard.

1)      Dean was not doing well in school and the footballers were turning on him which meant he was close to getting expelled.

2)      Crowley had pointed out that Dean might like him in a non-just-friendship kind of way and he hadn’t denied it. And that could only mean that he found the idea to outrageous to dignify with an answer, or…

The door to the room swung open with a bang, and he heard running, before Dean’s voice sounded, “I swear to you if this is true I’m gonna kick his ass!”

A shadow covered the bares as Dean was fidgeting with the lock on the other side. Click. The door flew open and the tight space threw Cas out into Dean who caught him barely maintaining his balance. He held him for a moment, like was he still surprise someone had been locked inside his locker, before he stretched his arms out to get a better look at Cas.

“You okay?” Fear and worry poured from every syllable. Cas could do nothing but look at him in relieve.

“God Cas," he said with a small chuckle, "you’re the only student here, who actually wears a tie.” A fond smile played on his lips as he began straightening the knot. God, he loved being this close to Dean, but it wasn’t enough right now. He gripped in under Dean’s armpits and hugged him, holding him as close as humanly possible, ignoring the tears gathering in the corner of his eye. Dean didn’t hesitate but took the embrace with the same need Cas had expressed digging his fingers into the back of his closes leaning his head in the crook of his neck.

A loud purposeful clearing of throat sounded from the spectator Cas first noticed now. They slid out of the embrace, Dean scratching the back of his reddened neck.

“Yeah, Cas this is Benny. Benny, Cas.”

Benny reached out a hand to Cas who took it, “Nice to finally meet you officially, Castiel. I’ve heard so much about you.” The last comment came with a smirking side-glance at Dean who punched his shoulder in return.

“You too, Benny,” Cas smiled at the thought that this was the second footballer who had introduced himself to him this week. Bal was gonna flip.

“I’m here to keep him earthbound on his rescue mission. He thinks his Batman.”

“Shut up, Benny, and go guard the entrance! We’re gonna smuggle him out through the field.” Dean smirked at the thought of his own cunning plan.

Dean showed Cas out through the entrance to the football field.

“How long where you in there?” Dean asked, sounding slightly nervous.

“I don’t know. But if you are asking if I were there during your encounter with Crowley, then yes. I was there.”

Dean looked straight forward avoiding Castiel’s gaze. 

“Benny overheard Gordon telling the other’s that he’d dragged you into my locker, so yeah.”

“Any idea why he did it?”

“Either to piss me off or please Crowley, I guess.”

Now it was Cas’s turn to look away from Dean. He wanted to try something, “Why would he think it would piss you off?”

Dean frowned in surprise of the question, “What do you mean ‘why’? Because I almost kicked Gordon’s ass in class last time he fucked with you.”

Cas swallowed, “Yeah, I know, but why?”

“Well…” Dean choked for a second, “I… You’re my friend Cas and you’re a good guy. There’s no reason for him to come at you like that and…” Cas watched Dean’s hands curl into a tight fist before he let go, “Whatever. What does it matter?”

This was obviously a sensitive subject for him so Cas let it pass. No reason to ruin something that felt so good right now.

Dean cleared his throat, “You still commin’ to the training later?”

“Uhm, yeah. Unless you don’t want me to. I kind of figured you only asked me to get back at Balthazar.”

Dean stopped and turned to him, “Well, yeah. But I wouldn’t have if I didn’t want you to come,” He said full of sincerity and continued, “Besides I’d really like to piss Crowley off in any way possible.”

“I get that. He doesn’t seem very nice.”

Dean shrugged, “His a bitch. But he’s damn good at what he does.”

Cas didn’t even think about it before he answered, “Yeah, I’ll come. If just to piss off Crowley.”

“Great,” Dean said with a mildly dizzying smile, “Well, you know your way from here. After all I assaulted you for the first time in that hall.” He pointed with a smirk.

Cas couldn’t help but laugh. That incident was so far gone now, that he could hardly remember it. “Thank you for the reminder. If it wasn’t for all the assaults all day I would get lost in this school.”

Dean smirked shaking his head, “See ya later, Novak.”

“See you, Winchester.”

Chapter Text

Castiel smiled at his honey –glazed pork at dinner, as he poked to it without really looking at it. He sensed a something in the back of his neck and he couldn’t help but look over his shoulder. Dean was laughing at Henriksen but kept stealing glances in his direction. When he finally caught the returned gaze he held it for a moment, smiling at Castiel before he turned back to his friends with a slight blush blooming up his neck.

Castiel’s smile grew even wider as he turned back to his meal. He felt every kind of feeling in his belly, but hunger didn’t seem to be one of them.

Balthazar dumped down in front of him, “So I thought we could look at that biology-assignment tonight,” he said without removing his eyes from his plate as he started to shovel.

Cas felt slightly strangled and loosened the knot in his tie a bit. “I got a detention-thing.”

Bal looked up from his plate, “Okay, when?”

Cas swallowed, “After the training, so it’s going to be late.”

Bal frowned, “And before that, Cas?”

“I… I have to read for English.”

Bal’s gaze turned stern, “You’ve always been a bad liar, Castiel.”

“Hi guys!” Anna’s velvet voice interrupted them. She sat down next to Balthazar with the grace of a feather, placing her vegetarian diner in front of her, “What are we do-. Oh my God, Bal, what happened to your eye?”

Apparently Bal couldn’t even find it in himself to be happy that Anna had addressed him, before he answered, “Your friend here is currently having a minor stroke.”

Castiel sighed, “I don’t expect you to understand, Bal.”

When Anna only looked confused, Balthazar helped her out ungracefully, “He has stopped believing in God and started believing in a Winchester instead, and are now ready to follow his every bidding.”

“I’m not-,“ Castiel tried in vain but Anna’s eyes had widened, “Like the football captain Winchester?”

“That would be the one. The one who got him down on his knees couple of months back, and not in a good way, remember?”

“Yeah, I know but…” she looked to Cas with glee and admiration in her eyes, “Have you become friends with him? Is it the detention?”

Castiel could see where this was going, but there was no point in hiding it. Besides he might have become a little proud of it, “I guess, I-“

“Can I meet him?” she interrupted eagerly.

“Not. You. Too.” Balthazar sighed bitterly, “Why do you all like him so much? Don’t you see how false he is acting all tough, yet letting everyone else do the hard work and hiding behind them?”

“Oh, but have you seen that guy with his brother? That is the cutest thing and-“

“Stop it!” Balthazar slammed his hand onto the table, silencing Anna. He noticed the sudden attention he got from the tables around them, but he ignored it to point a hard finger at Castiel, “You’re impossible! If you are not going to listen, you can fight this one alone! Don’t you dare come to me for help when it all goes sideways – because it will, Castiel. With those people it will!”

He went up and left them there. Castiel pierced a broccoli with his fork. The great feelings were overclouded by Balthazar’s words. He had known that Bal wouldn’t take his decision of joining Dean at his training night lightly  – of course he wouldn’t – but he had been sure that the feelings he had felt from Dean would make up for that. Right now he wasn’t so sure.

“So…” Anna began, “Are you on a first name basis?”

 ---

The dark came quickly in those late days of fall. The spotlights hovering over the football field lit everything up in a bright unnatural light.

Castiel got up to the field halfheartedly and found the same spot he had chosen half a year ago. He dumped down, placed his elbows on his knees and rested his heavy head in the palms of his hands. He spotted Dean standing in a circle with the team and yelling orders, explaining the line-ups. Watching Dean in what looked like his right element helped a little on Castiel’s gloomily mood. He thought he might get a little addicted to watching Dean being so authoritarian and yet passionate. He yelled something and everyone yelled “huah!” back at it before they all ran out to warm up in the field

Crowley tapped Dean’s shoulder to get his attention. He looked angry, which in no way surprised Cas. From where he sat, he wasn’t able to make out the words of the conversation, but Crowley looked like he was holding back on a lot of gesticulations. Castiel had already picked up on Dean’s stubborn face. It was hard, still and slightly nonchalant.

“Can I sit here?”

Castiel looked up at the boy, who had helped him gather his scattered books this morning. His smile was warming, but he was new to this school, so Castiel thought might as well teach him a rule or two to help him get through his high school years with as little post-traumatic stress as possible.

“You can, but you will not want to. I’m not the kind of co-student you will want to be seen with in your first year.”

The boy only chuckled at his response and put his backpack down and placed himself next to Castiel despite his words.

“Why not?”

Cas sighed at the younger boy’s ignorance. He kept watching Dean and Crowley who were now having a bit of an obvious row now, before Crowley suddenly pointed in the direction of Cas. He didn’t know where to look, but he was pretty sure, he might not want to be watching them, while Crowley so obviously despised him. He realized Dean might have succeeded in pissing off Crowley, even though it didn’t look very pleasant. He turned back to the boy, “Because if they” – he nodded at the footballers in the field – “see you with me, they will hate you before they know you”.

“Naah, I don’t really care about them. Actually the first d-“

“You should,” Cas interrupted darkly as Crowley again gestured in his direction. If he could have advised himself before he started at this school that would be the first thing he would say; don’t go near the hater-scout. In the meantime, he didn’t get the message before he fell forsomething wonderful and very, very untouchable. Crowley looked everything but impressed with Dean, as Dean sarcastically padded his shoulder in a friendly, comforting way and smiled with every freckled feature in his face, before he ran off to join his teammates in the field.

“You might not believe this, but he’s actually not as bad as he tries to be,” the boy said sounding a little sad.

Confused Castiel followed his gaze down to Dean in the field. He smiled to himself, “I know.”

“You..? Okay. Good,” he sat for a moment and watched the players warm up before he asked, “How do you know?”

Castiel took a deep breath. That was a really good question. He would like to say that they were friends, but honestly, he didn’t know how much of Dean he really knew, even though Dean had told him he saw him as a friend. He felt like he had only scratched the surface of the wonders of Dean Winchester, but “know” might not describe whatever they had been building throughout the last week.

“I believe every human has both good and bad sides. I like to think I have met both in Dean.” Dean ran across the field to get to his position in the middle, ready to start of the game, “and so far he hasn’t been disappointing.”

The whistle went off and the game started before Castiel was even aware of it. He had yet to read up on the game rules of football but, he wasn’t really there for the game.

“Dean?” the boy next to him said. Castiel gazed at him confused before he realized the use of Dean’s first name.

“Right. Yes, I’ve spent a little time with him as of late, and he’s not that much for formalities so-“

The other boy laughed, “Formalities? No, that is not a foundation we were raised on,” Castiel looked surprised at him, as the pieces slowly fell into place for him. “I’m Sam,” he introduced himself reaching a greeting hand out to him, “I’m his brother and you must be Castiel, right? You’re the one Dean got his detention for.”

Suddenly everyone on the tribune got up in cheering around them before Castiel realized someone had scored. He followed Sam’s example and got up clapping at the goal. Henriksen and Dean high-fived in the field before they got into the middle to start again.

“He really seems to like it,” Castiel mumbled.

“Yeah,” Sam agreed and sat down again, “I don’t think it’s the game though. It’s more the teamwork, the cohesion that he loves. To be frank it might be the only reason he’s still in the school.”

“How so?”

“Well, it’s not like I don’t think he could do it alone – I think he’s a lot better than he believes himself – but he always attach himself to other people. Most times he even makes them believe that they can’t go on without him, but most of the time I think he just can’t go on alone really. He’s afraid.”

“Aren’t we all?”

“I guess. It’s complicated.”

They watch for a while without talking. Dean laid another ball perfect for Henriksen and resulted in another goal, and the cheerleaders got another chance to show off some new moves before Castiel got too curios.

“How is it complicated?” he asked, taking the extraordinary chance to get a look into the life of Dean Winchester, which he had yet to explore.

“We haven’t had a lot of friends growing up because we moved around a lot. I guess Dean sooner or later gave up on trying making friends, because we were going to lose them anyway. Instead he took care of me most of the time, when mom was off to work and dad wasn’t home. So when they sent him off to school I guess he needed to find a new purpose of some kind.”

“And that ended up being football?”

Sam shrugged, “It’s better than nothing, I guess. And it gets his big brother-gene going. Besides I like to read, always have, but it’s not really Dean’s thing”

“I’ve noticed,” Castiel answered with a smile, thinking of their time in the library.

“I think mom and dad hopes he can get a scholarship through football instead, so he won’t have to worry that much about his grates,” the boy sighed. He didn’t sound as young as he was. “They don’t know it’s not going very well.”

“What do you mean?”

“He doesn’t say it, but it’s obvious that the football and arguing with Crowley all the time, and the homework, and the detention – it’s all just too much for him. He can’t be everywhere and it’s not enough for the school that he keeps the team high in the league, if he can’t keep his grates average.”

“I see.”

--- 

Castiel stayed at the tribune a while after everyone had left and the spotlights on the field went out soon after. He laid himself down upon the bench to watch the stars in the clear night, waiting till he thought everyone had cleared out from the locker rooms. Except for Dean of course. The conversation with Sam had started a whole new stream of thoughts in Castiel’s mind.

“Heya Cas,” Dean’s voice suddenly sounded from the top of the stairs, “Coast is clear.”

“Hello,” Castiel answered without taking his eyes from the stars. Dean walked in on him till he ducked his face in and covered Castiel’s starry view, which in no way ruined it.

“You good?” he asked with his all too well known wry smile.

Castiel sighed, smiling back at his friend, “Dean, can I ask you something?”

“Shoot, Cas.”

“Why are you here?” The question seemed to take him by surprise. He reached out a hand for Castiel to help him up. Castiel took it gladly and dragged himself up to a standing position, as Dean lead the way through the benches and down the tribune to the locker rooms.

“I think the letter said something about ‘assaulting a fellow student’,” he answered.

An invisible wall of the smell of sweat and soap meet them at the locker rooms, and Castiel had to force himself to breathe it in, knowing that he would get used to it after a while. Most of the steam from the hot showers had already gone away and left huge puddles of water on the floor.

“I don’t mean here-here, I mean at this school.”

“To get an education. Apparently those are rather popular in our time,” Dean went on.

“Dean…”

He sighed and turned to a mop and a bucket in the corner of the locker room, “My parents thought that a private boarding school would help me and my brother get a better education -,” he handed Castiel the bucket and pointed at an indoor hose next to the showers, “- and not being home might solve some problems.”

“But you don’t think so?” Cas asked curiously as he filled the bucket with hot water and handed it back to Dean.

“I think it might solve some problems. But I will suck in school no matter where I go so…” He sounded rather despairing as he let the rest of the sentence speak for itself. He took to mopping the floor at the exit to the field where it was most dirty. “It doesn’t matter,” he sighed.

Castiel found a swab and started leading some of the stray water from the showers back to the drains.

“But why do you play football then? It seems to me, that you could save a lot of time if you quit the team.”

Dean didn’t answer straight away and Castiel let him think about his answer. “The team is… It’s who I am. If I am to do something good in my life this might be it.”

This confused Castiel a lot, “You see the game as the one good thing you can do?”

Dean had stopped mopping and turned around to face Castel, leaning against the shaft of his mop, “Maybe. Who knows where I’ll end up?” he asked rhetorically.

As much as Cas wanted to just stand and talk he also wanted to get the job over and done with. The smelly room was not really his favorite place to be. Never the less this was not going to hinder him from putting his limited time with Dean to some use, “I thought you wanted to go to college. Get a scholarship-“

 “Where’ve you got that from?”

Castiel detected some kind of defense in Dean’s voice that hadn’t been there before, “I spoke to your brother during the game…”

“Well, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about. And neither do you,” he said and started mopping the floors again turning his back on Castiel, “Can we just get this over with, I’m tired.”

Castiel wasn’t sure what buttons he had pushed to offend Dean, but he seemed offended never the less, “Sure.”

They worked in silence for a while. The last couple of days the silence they had shared had been nice - relaxed – but now it was tense. Castiel thought of the stress Sam seemed sure Dean was under, and he decided to help him from some of it.

“Maybe I should just do the rest of it here; then you could go study.”

Dean dropped the mop that hit the floor with an echo going through the empty bathroom, “Jeez Cas, if you don’t want me here you can just tell them I hit you again!”

Castiel felt the sudden exclamation like a slap in the face. He couldn’t believe his own ears, “Where did that come from? Are you blaming me for that?”

“You know what, Cas?” Dean walked towards him from the opposite end of the room, “The only part I don’t like about being here is having to watch my every move because I’m in the principal’s spotlight, and yes, I wouldn’t be if it wasn’t for that one goddamn time I messed up!”

Dean stood a couple of feet from him with a harsh expression, but as unconstructive as it was he only got angry as well. He felt himself unfairly treated, that Dean suddenly would blame him for getting him into trouble after he punched him. “Dean, you can’t blame me for that! You know I wasn’t the one who said anything, but never the less you cannot justify that punch!” Casitel calmed himself. This was a stupid thing to fight over. “It doesn’t matter – I’m over it,” he said and turned away.

A hand on his shoulder hurled him back around and into a locker, “Don’t you dare turn your back on me!”

Castiel should be afraid, he knew that, but he couldn’t find it in himself no matter how confusing this sudden outrage of Dean’s was. He took a deep breath and looked straight at Dean, who had planted a hand on each of Castiel’s shoulders. “I’m just trying to help you, Dean,” Castiel tried with the calmest voice he could muster.

“That’s just it with you, isn’t it, Cas!” He’s grip was tight, but his face looked equally agonized and angry, “You are always right fucking there drilling into my personal life! My mind!” He let go of him with one hand and dragged it through his hair in frustration. “All the goddamn time! I don’t need it!”

It took a second for Castiel to understand the use of ‘all the time’ before it dawned on him, “You… think about me?”

“You’re not really giving me a fair chance not to – you’re always within eyesight!” Dean said and the grip on his shoulder became tighter, but it didn’t hurt Castiel. It felt like Dean was trying to make him understand something, but Castiel had absolutely no idea of what it was.

“And that’s a bad thing?”

“Yes!” he yelled at him, “I do have a lot of other stuff on my mind right now. I don’t have time for this!” Dean suddenly let go of Castiel and turned towards the exit.

Dean’s mind was a whirlwind and Castiel could hardly keep up. “For what?” he asked, and the question stopped Dean half through the row of lockers and made him turn to him again.

“This!” he gestured between them, “Arguing with you! I thought we had something here, but you don’t even want me here! And it’s fine – just tell me!”

“Dean… I do want you here. You have no idea…”

“My parents expect things from me, okay? And right now, my last chance to live up to that is going wherever that takes me, and right now that end doesn’t seem damn pleasant.”

“What do you want for yourself, Dean?” Now it was Castiel’s turn to walk to Dean who looked more and more in despair for every step Castiel took.

“What?” he said through gritted teeth.

“You know,” Castiel said, and stopped in front of him. “You don’t have to do what is expected from you, right? What does it matter what your parents think?”

“I… You don’t understand what it’s like,” he stammered barely hearable.

Castiel let his hands find Dean’s limp by his side. Dean twitched at the touch but when Castiel curl their hands together and Dean didn’t withdraw Castiel took it as consent. He thought about his home, where he would never be able to live up to some of his father’s expectations and didn’t want to live up to others, but Dean ought to know that after their talk in the library. “I don’t?”

“You, no!” Dean hauled his hands from Castiel’s and backed away from him, “Shut up! You can’t just play the ‘gay-card’ every time something comes up!”

“I’m not ‘playing’ anything, Dean. I’m just saying-“, Castiel tried, but Dean was already halfway through the door.

“Shut up! I don’t wanna hear it! You don’t get it!”

And the door slammed shot.

Become a mean drunk like your ol' daddy.

Become like your daddy.

The words had been floating around in Dean’s head since Crowley had shouted at him in what he had thought was an empty locker room. If he could decide anything for himself in the whole wide world, that would be not ending up drunk and alone with a marriage barely haltering in rusty hinges.

No. Dean was not going to end up like his farther, yet everything he seemed to do to get away, was only dragging him back on some mysterious destiny that he didn’t believed in. Of course Castiel wouldn’t understand it, so why even bother telling him. Besides he didn’t know him well enough to bare his soul out to him – Hell, he didn’t know anyone he would be able to do that with. Not even Sam.

The only thing that shut out Crowley’s horrible voice was thinking of Cas. Dark messy hair, pale skin, endless blue eyes. Maybe it was a good thing he had had Benny with him when they freed him from his locker, because otherwise he would probably never had let go of him. But thinking about Cas only took his time from other things. He couldn’t remember the last time he had ran a good run or had been able to concentrate on his homework without his mind wondering of. It was stupid.

But as always Sam would be the one to change his perspective of things.

“How could you, Dean! He cares about you!” Sam shouted at him, after he finally let him into his dorm, and the boy stormed right past him and leaned against his desk, arms crossed.

Sam had insisting and little-brother-annoyingly knocked on his door until he succumbed. It was something they had done as kids in motel rooms when he had locked himself away in a room and they were both too stubborn to stop playing the door-knocking game until Dean opened the door and told Sam everything that was wrong. Of course “everything” was a lot less when you were 12 years old.

“Uh, First; Hey Sammy, please-“

“It’s Sam!”

“-come in and have a seat. Second,” He shut his arms out to each side, “What the hell?”

“I waited outside the locker rooms for you two to finish up so we could talk, and the doors aren’t exactly soundproof, Dean,” Sam announced wearing the bitch face Dean had hated since they were kids – especially because the younger brother usually was right whenever it came to that.

Dean went to his unmade bed to take a seat, “Okay, Sam I’m real happy that you’re in the school too now but could you maybe not spy on me? Just a thought.”

Sam sighed, “Listen Dean, I don’t know what you’ve got your panties in a twist over, but I think you should apologize.”

“And who made you Captain of the starship?”

“I’m serious, Dean. Castiel doesn’t deserve whatever that deluge was about. He just wanted to help you.”

Dean realized he wasn’t going to get rid of his brother with cocky remarks today, so he stopped arguing and instead tried to converse. He hated when his brother did that. “I know he doesn’t deserve it. Hell, no matter what he did he doesn’t deserve being locked up with me. I don’t need his help – I’m the one who doesn’t deserve it.”

Sam frowned sighing, “Why are you always so hard on yourself?”

Dean had no answer to that. Not one he would give out loud at least.

When nothing came, Sam continued, “I’ve only meet him twice but he seems like a really good guy-”

Dean huffed, “He is – that’s what I’ve been saying.”

“- and from what I could tell he cares about you. A lot.”

The seriousness in Sam’s voice had piqued Dean’s interest and he looked up at his brother on the desk, “How so?”

“Well, for starters he smiled when he watched you at the field or thought about you.”

“How could you know if he thought about me?”

“Because when I told him something about you he would say ‘I know’ and his eyes would go all blank and he’d smile, like he was remembering some time you spent together or something,” Sam huffed himself and smiled, “I think he really cares for you and I think you have good friends in the field but the best one might sit in the stands.”

“Was that some lame ass try for a metaphor, little brother?” Dean asked, wry smile back in place.

“Shut up, Dean!” Sam said affectionate.

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Dean sighed a palm to his forehead. “Sometimes you’re too damn smart for your own good, Sammy,” he said affectionately and secretly proud.

They talked for a while. Sam told Dean about this new friend he had made called Brady and about this girl called Jessica. He could go on and on about that blond girl, so Dean zapped soon out. It was nice being in his brother’s company; it was easy. Almost as easy as he felt around Cas. God, he hated that he kept fucking whatever they had up. He wouldn’t call it a friendship because he hadn’t known him long enough for them to really make it to that step – he didn’t know him well enough. But then again he felt like it was something stronger than that; some kind of attraction. He wanted to tell him everything, but didn’t dare. He wanted to be closer to him. Sometimes he even took himself in thinking about touching him – it would be so natural just to reach out. And whenever they did touch he had to mentally fight himself to let go, because he never wanted to. But he knew how it would look. What wouldn’t people think? What wouldn’t Cas think?

“Dean, do you like him… like that?” Sam suddenly asked.

“Cas?” Dean asked but as soon as the word was out, he felt a blush creeping in from everywhere. He had zoomed out of the conversation with his brother and when he finally addresses him, that name would be the first one to pop out of his mouth.

Sam smiled at the sound of the nickname, “Yeah, Cas. Do you like him like he likes you?”

“I like him, Sam, I told you.”

“Yeah, but… it’s just,” he struggled to get the words out. Sam was generally good with words, so Dean knew instantly it was because he was afraid to overstep a boundary in their relationship.

Dean held his arms out, to sign just go with it.

“It’s just. When you zap out, you have the same smile,” Sam tread carefully, “the same as he does when he thinks of you.”

Dean thought for a second before he couldn’t keep back a smile. He couldn’t tell why, but it made him incredibly happy that Cas might be thinking of him in the same way Dean was about Cas. He almost laughed.

“Dean, are you having a small stroke or something?” Sam asked suddenly looking worried. Dean realized that it might have been a while since he had expressed any kind of happy emotion but there it was.

“No, Sam. I’m fine. I’m great actually.”

“Now I’m just confused. Do you like him-like him?”

Taken aback it occurred to Dean that Sam thought Dean might be in love with his newfound friend. Or whatever they were.

“What? No! No,” he said still smiling at Sammy’s silliness, shaking his head, “Of course not. He’s wonderful, but he’s not in love with me, ‘cus I’m not gay, so. Well, there you have it. It’s not like that, he’s just…” Dean trailed of at the thought of the other boy; his scent, his skin, that blue sweater he sometime wore that fit around his body so perfectly, his voice. Dear God, why hadn’t he thought of that voice before? It was practically intoxicating to listen to.

“… really great,” he whispered.

---

Dean looked to either side of the hall. A couple of second-year students were gathered at the end, but they seemed too court up in conversation to notice anything. It was only 15 minutes till lights out, but it was fine. He didn’t need more than that. He knocked without too much force.

A confirming “Yes?” came from the other side of the door in the voice that gave Dean the chills.

He opened and hurried inside, closing the door firmly but silently behind him, making sure no one would notice him – You’d never know who would go running to the wrong people. He closed his eyes and leaned his forehead against the door, taking in a deep breath, trying to gather his thoughts. When had he become so paranoid?

“Dean?” Cas said, sounding rather surprised. Dean turned his back to the door looking at the other boy. Cas sat curled up against the headboard of his bed with a book in hand. Dean recognized the worn cover of Our Mutual Friend.

“Oh shit, I forgot all about that book. When is it due again?”

Cas snorted and smiled at him, “In two weeks, you have plenty of time.”

“Barely,” Dean said a little worried for his education. He walked towards Cas and asked him to scoot over with a gesture of his hand. Castiel frowned but did as instructed, before Dean sat up next to him in the small space. Dean stuck his thump into the space Cas had put his finger to mark where he was interrupted and pulled the book from him. He opened the book where Cas had stopped almost two thirds through.

“Damn, you need more hobbies.”

“I like this as a hobby,” Cas said, before he sighed, “Dean, why are you here? I mean, I don’t mind you here, but…”

Dean swallowed and called himself a coward twice before he shrug and said, “I was in lack of a study partner and here you are studying.” He tapped his fingers on the pages of the old book, “Guess I’m in luck.”

Cas frowned at the mischievous smile playing on Dean’s lips. “That is not how a ‘study partner’ works.” Something – amongst a lot of things, Dean figured – he liked about Castiel was that he could figure out his small schemes without no effort.

“Oh come on, Cas,” Dean smiled and notched him with his elbow. He put the book back in Castiel’s lap, making sure to touch his hands as he passed it to him. He scooted a little down and leaned up against a pillow and shoulder to shoulder with the warmth of Cas’s blue sweater and relaxed his head up against the cool wall behind him.

“You want me to read for you,” Cas stated more than asked.

 “God, sometimes you’re just not the sharpest knife in the sea, Cas,” Dean chuckled not meaning a word of it.

“I think it’s-“

“Yes, I want you to read for me,” Dean closed his eyes and got ready to listen to that ever stimulating voice.

“But you’ll skip more than 10 chapters,” Cas said sounding slightly worried for the holes in Dean’s education. Dean couldn’t help but smile about that.

“Usually I read the first 10 pages, a chapter in the middle and the last 10 pages. And the back of the book of course. It usually does the trick.”

“But-“

“Just read, Cas. Please.” Dean moved a little further down the headboard to feel more comfortable.

With a sigh Cas surrendered, “Fine. But don’t fall asleep this time.”

Cas started reading and the story was surprisingly alright. Pretty boring of course but it could have been worse. Cas explained that Dickens’s stories had action, it was just another kind of action than the ones with gun fights and car chases, but Dean would probably only get that if he read the whole novel through some time. Dean promised never to promise to do such a thing.

Cas read with his legs drawn up to his chest, so he could rest the book on his thighs. Within the first few minutes Dean discovered that he could curl up in the same position and rest his legs against Cas’s. Before long it became hard for Dean not to doze from the calming rumble of Cas’s voice, which lead to dreams about warmth and the touch of pale skin upon skin. He nodded his head close to Cas’s warm shoulder, before he felt the gravity and shook the sleep out of his head.

“I told you not to fall asleep.”

“I’m not,” Dean said and grinded the palm of his hand against his heavy eyelids.

“You look like a four year old, who can’t sleep because of nightmares,” Cas said. Well, they were hardly nightmares, Dean thought. He looked up to a gaze which he both found endearing and annoying. Cas looked at him, like he was the most adorable puppy put up for adoption.

“Oh, stop it,” Dean said and nudged his shoulder against Cas with the more or less unfortunate side effect that he just swopped back to lay his head on Cas’s shoulder. It was warm. And soft. It was nice.

“I’m not falling asleep,” he mumbled in the less sleepy voice he could manage, “just... gaaaargh… wread om,” he said yawning.

“Sure,” Cas said with an adorable chuckle.

Dean listened to Cas’s soothing voice that became more and more of a distant rumble coming from inside the chest of his live, warm body pillow. He was dozing off but he didn’t mind. He was calm and peaceful in this room, clutched up against a warm body. Cas with his big blue puppy eyes and voice like a grown man, yet being so delicate with his perfect pale marble skin. It occurred to Dean that those eyes had done things to him since he first watched him from afar. It was weird, but he felt drawn, never knowing why. He had always thought it was some kind of instinct, and now, lying here cuddling against the soft material of his sweater, he knew that it must have been some kind of instinct. He had unconsciously always known that Castiel was an answer to some kind of silent prayer he didn’t know anyone had heard. He had never felt this way about anyone before and he really, sincerely wanted this to last forever. This – whatever it was – it could never go away. And suddenly he remembered why he had come in the first place.

He turned his head, nudging the soft blue material with his nose, taking in the scent of Cas, before he drew a breath and letting out a, “M’ sorry.”

Castiel had gone silent with Dean’s sudden movement and Dean could feel his muscles stiffen under his own weight. Dean kept slowly stroking his forehead against Cas’ shoulder.

“For what?”

“For being an arse today. It wasn’t fair,” Dean said drowsily.

“Are you… talking in your sleep, Dean?”

Dean took in a deep breath and laid still, his forehead to Cas’ shoulder. “No, no. I’m jus- Please accept my apology.”

Cas’s warm hand suddenly slid in between Dean’s in his lap. “No apology needed,” he whispered into Dean’s hair. Dean felt a slight pressure at the top of his head and recognized it as a calming kiss. He slid his fingers in between Castiel’s and Cas’s hand closed on the back of Dean’s.

Chapter Text

Dean may never have been filled with so much energy in his entire life. Everything in him was excited and tinkling, yet burning him up from the inside. It felt both so, so good and incredibly bad. He was up before anyone else; putting on a t-shirt and shorts, tying his shoes before he went for a cooling run at dawn. The weather was getting colder in these autumn days, but he welcomed the fresh breeze in his face and bare arms and legs. He kept feeling restless and full of energy yet pushed himself to the edge to make the bad feeling leave his body. It didn’t though. He went along the fields but as he came to the end he realized he was nowhere near tired enough to have gone halfway, so he continued along the fence, down alongside the forest area.

He liked running, though he would never tell Sammy that. He especially liked it on rest-days from football practice. He could think better, clearer, when he went for a run by himself, exercising his body and let the mind wonder. And running was something his farther would never do, so there’s that too.

Dean could hardly believe his energy, seeing as he was probably one of the latest students in bed last night, too. But then again, he had gotten a little sleep before he had snug out of Cas’s room. He had woken up slummed down in the bed, not able to feel his left arm and with an ache in his back. Lying half up against the headboard was making him an old man.

He had withdrawn carefully, miraculously without waking Cas, who slid down onto the pillows they had used as backrests. For some unknown reason he had had a really hard time leaving the edge of the bed, with Cas lying there breathing into the pillows. It took a while before he was able to pull himself away from the sight of the peacefully sleeping boy. He was – in lack of any other word, mind you – beautiful, and Dean resisted an urge to lay a hand on the marble skin or run his fingers through the ever so messy bedhead.

He got up from the otherwise so neatly made bed, that they had wrinkled up from laying on it, but Dean managed to tuck the part of the cover that Cas wasn’t sleeping on over him, leaning in to tuck it up to his shoulders. Spontaneously he reached a hand to his forehead, brushing Cas’s hair away and planted a kiss at his temple. He pulled away as soon as it was done, not quite sure of what just happened, but checking twice that Cas hadn’t woken. He hadn’t, but a small smile played at the corner of his mouth and Dean wanted to keep it and mentally tried to imprint that sight and that feeling it brought with, into his brain. It was silly. He was silly. It was probably just a feeling that had emerged in the moment of the night. His brain was fuzzy and he couldn’t be held accountable for what he did.

The thought of that little smile from Cas and the feeling of his skin, was gone so fast, that he hardly remembered it, so he partly had to imagine it, made him smile and fasten his pace, pearls of sweat playing on his forehead.

He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what made Castiel forgive him so easily every time he fucked up. And when he came to the conclusion that Cas didn’t exactly hate to be near him after all, he was sure it would just be a matter of time before Cas figured he wasn’t worth the time and effort he was given. He was too damaged, too not in control of… well, anything really. But Sam’s words and Cas’s touch had given him new hope; a kind of believe that he can fix it – or that he himself maybe could be fixed. Maybe Cas was just the beginning.

Or maybe not. He felt like the worst person, and he felt like whenever they made up for something, he just went on forth to the next stupid thing. No fucking doubt that Cas would drive him away sooner or later.  The thought of that stained worse in his chest than the side stiches.

He had closed the door ever so carefully leaving Cas’s room, with his shoes in hand in the hope, that he would hear less.

“What’s this, fag?” an iconic voice rang through the hall.

The only word that emerged into Dean’s mind was fuck. Then he realized he had just been called ‘fag’. Him? Of everyone in this school, the football captain?

He turned around to find Crowley, stopped a little further down the hall, just coming from the bathrooms with a robe around him, a towel thrown over the left shoulder and a toothbrush in hand.

“What did you just say?” Dean asked angrily, not really remembering to keep it down.

“Oh, come on squirrel, what am I supposed to think?” he asked in his annoying accent, spreading his arms out at the question. “Why are you sneaking around with the high school gay-guy after hours, if not to sleep around?”

“Okay, fuck you, Crowley! I’m not with him. There’s nothing going on between us, got it?!” Dean turned around and started walking towards his own dorm. He knew that if he stayed he would just have started a fight that he wouldn’t want. Especially not at this time of day.

“Whatever you say, love. Just promise me to check below the waistline before you go to bed, okay? I’m worried if it’s still there.”

No. Dean stopped, took a deep breath, thinking he could walk away from this easily. Just a few doors further down and he could close and lock his door. Just move one leg and then the other…

“You and your boyfriend get the lockers cleaned up good for tomorrow?”

Dean froze. The cleaning of the locker room; he had completely forgotten about it – or rather, the lack thereof. He had stalled, making sure there were some problems with his shoelaces, and telling the players, that they could just leave without him; he felt like taking a long shower anyway. Some of the guys had a lot of jokes about that one. And for the love of God, he hadn’t told Crowley. Honestly, he hadn’t really told anyone but Sammy, and neither him nor Cas did exactly have Crowley on speed dial so…

“Who told you?” he asked with his back turned to Crowley. He could practically hear him tilt his head wearing that smug smile of his all over his stupid face.

“I believe you just did,” the answer came dripping with loathed victory.

Nice, Dean, well done you, you otter idiot. He turned around walking towards Crowley feeling a little defeated and a lot out of his depth. “What will you have me do, huh? It’s my fuckin detention. If I don’t do this, they are gonna throw me out and then you’ll have no captain.”

“Might as well be the same.”

That took the air from Dean. “Come again?” he whispered, because if he didn’t he would throw the whole sentence out there and no one sleeping in their dorms would doubt a single word.

“I recruited you, Dean, because you had potential,” he said pointing at Dean with the end of his toothbrush, “Hell, you could do this. You could lead my bloody team to victory-“

Hell to the no, “Why are you talking in past tense right now, man?”

“Because you are past tense, Dean-o! Get a fucking grip and get into the bloody game!”

Right, Crowley obviously didn’t understand a single thing. He was just at the edge of yelling, “I don’t have the fucking time to only have my head in the game right now – I need to-”

Crowley sighed as nonchalantly as only he could, “- do your schoolwork – sure man. Or maybe there is just more to the homework now, eh?”

Dean did not want to dignify that statement with an answer, even though he knew he was right. If he was being really honest he may had been stalling to spend more time with Cas than practice, but that’s normal right? You could do that with a new friend!

“You used to love this game, Dean. It gives you a purpose, that you can’t find anywhere else. And I mean anywhere…”, he said and notched his head, and Dean knew what anywhere he ment like a punch in the face; at home. “…so show me some balls, squirrel. You think you found another purpose in that Novak-kid? Come on! It’s a fucking fling and your hormones are probably so fucked up right know, that they don’t even know what the hell they want.”

Why was everyone suggesting that he and Cas.. no, he couldn’t even think about it without his stomach doing a weird flip. “I’m not…”

“Oh, spear me, Dean-o.”

“No, Crowley,” He had to clear this out once and for all. He really (really, really, really, really, really) liked to be around Cas, but “It’s not like that!”

Crowley squinted his eyes together looking at Dean like he was thinking about something. “Fine,” he said in a challenging voice, “If it’s not like that then proof it.” A small smile played daringly at his lips.

“Fine,” was out of his mouth before he had even had the chance to think about it, but Crowley shouldn’t think that he wasn’t man enough for a stupid, childish dare.

“Fine,” Crowley smiled.

“Fine,” Dean proclaimed definitively , when he realized that he had no idea what he just had agreed to and what hidden agendas that lay behind this sudden proclamation from the team leader, “…how?”

“Oh, no dear, that’s up to you. I just want a concluding answer,” Crowley said nonchalantly as he swayed past him and on to his own room.

He had stood a couple of seconds looking out into the empty hall. He felt like an idiot. No, rather he had a bad continence. Cas was laying right on the other side of this door sleeping like the sweetest puppy, and now Dean had to betray him. But it wasn’t really a betrayal, was it? After all, they were just friends and proving to Crowley that he didn’t feel that way about him, wasn’t wrong when your just friends, after all. Right? Then why did it feel so bad…

He had decided it might just be the late hour and maybe the fact that he had kissed his forehead, that still lingered by him in the moment. Oh, but that marble skin was so damn beautiful, it practically begged to be kissed. He went to bed falling asleep thinking of that pale touchable skin, and decided to clear his head with a run in the morning.

---

It had helped. He hurried out of the shower feeling reborn, and almost jogging towards the cafeteria and spontaneously high five-ing Benny, whom he meet walking in the other direction, but he couldn’t even bother stopping and asking where he was going. He could hardly wait to see Cas even though they probably wouldn’t talk. They didn’t have any good reasons to be meeting up today, and that thought was stabbing a couple of the butterflies that had been gathering in his stomach for a while now, but he tried not to think about that. Best just to put it away, and focus on the good things which was that he was actually going to see him. Close enough. Or maybe not, but he could live with it for today – he’d find an excuse to get close to him again.

Suddenly a door opened from one of the classrooms in the middle of the hallway, and before he could stop he walked directly into Lisa, almost knocking them both over. He just managed to grab around her waist in time before they fell. Wow, he had no idea how this could keep happening, but never the less here he was. Even though last time, felt a little different, because it was Cas. He felt himself blush at the thought.

She looked up at him in surprise, before her face softened; surrounded by his arms and she smiled shyly, “Hi.”

He only just then realized he was basically hugging her close, and with a nagging feeling in his gut, he swallowed and took a little unnatural step backwards. Her face fell a little. “Hi, hey, sorry. I wasn’t looking. My bad,” he managed clumsily as he, in an attempt to make up for the damage, tried to straighten her cheerleading uniform, before he realized how stupid it was and stepped back again clearing his throat and scratching the back of his neck for no good reason. “Yeah…”

Why did he just touch her? That was weird. Had he gotten too used to find excuses for touching Cas and now his brain is messing things up? Whoa, stop! Why was he even finding excuses to touch Cas in the first place? That’s weird too, right? If you think about it? Maybe he shouldn’t be thinking about it. Dammit.

She looked at him with a frown, “Are you okay, Dean? You seem a little… I don’t know, confused?” she asked in her silky voice.

“Yeah… no, I’m fine,” he said before he thought about it, “I just came from a run, so…” He had no idea what to say. Dammit, he used to be so smooth with the ladies but that nagging in his gut did not do him any favors and his brain kept stumbling on Cas whenever it needed to function in other directions.

“That sounds nice,” she continued trying to start a conversation, “Warming up for tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow?” he asked before it dawned on him, “Right, the game! Of course. Naah, it was just a joy run, you know.” He found his usual confident smile, plastered it where it was supposed to be and winked at her.

It worked. She visibly lightened up and got the twinkle in her eye back, the same way as Cas did whenever he talked about something that he was really passionate about. The thought of that was incredibly nice yet it just made the nagging even worse – but hey, you can’t have it all.

“And you’re still going to Crowley’s afterwards, right?” she asked with hope in her voice.

Crowley. That son of a bitch, this was brilliant! He could hook up with Lisa and proof him wrong. She was hot – no doubt about it – and she was one of the popular girls being on the cheerleading team. This was perfect.

“Of course I am!” he answered overly confident, and leaning against the wall to get a better look at her. He loved the way it made them blush or look shyly away. Lisa was different from the other girls, but never the less she was a girl. It was almost too easy.  “I told you I’d go – especially when you’re coming.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dean caught sight of someone stopping in the middle of the corridor over Lisa’s shoulder. Cas. A cold bucket of ice water poured down on his butterflies, and he dropped his elbow from the wall as they caught each other’s eyes. Cas’s eyes were wide and he visibly swallowed before he drew on a smile that could have melted everything in him, if it wasn’t for the fact that it never reached his eyes.

“Hi Dean,” he said with no tone in his voice.

Dean dug up a smile himself that seemed polite but definitely not his best impression. “Hi Cas,” he managed almost as toneless as him. Guess Cas had better practice.

Lisa had turned towards Cas and smiled at him to greet him, but Cas only nodded at her politely and stiff, and walked past them without another look at Dean, while he could only watch him leave. He followed him with his eyes till he turned a corner, and all the energy that had run through him all morning drained away.

“You know Castiel?” she asked and continued with a slight disbelieve, “Cas?” Another good thing about Lisa, Dean reckoned, was that she sounded curious but genuinely interested as opposed to every other cheerleader who only would have asked for the gossip.

The nagging in his stomach had become a heavy stone, that were just lying there and mocking his whole existence.

“Yeah, well. We have detention together,” he answered but by now it felt more like it came out mechanically. Like it was rehearsed.

He turned to her and found her looking at him with raised eyebrows like she was waiting for him to continue, like she knew there were more to that story.

“And we’ve done a bit of homework together,” he mumbled looking down at his shoes, absently thinking about their ‘homework-nights’ that, in his mind, had little to do with homework and a lot to do with the company. It had been like that from the beginning. He felt like he could be completely himself when with Cas. He was just so extremely pleasant to be around, that he wouldn’t trade it for the world. And suddenly he recognized the feeling in his stomach, surprised that he hadn’t recognized it sooner; it was the oppressed feeling of guilt.

---

Cas was nowhere to be seen all day. Dean hated it. In some stupid way he felt like apologizing. His mind kept creeping back thinking about this morning. He should never have let him leave or maybe he should have gone with him; either way, he should have said something or done something to make it up to him. Then he realized that chances that they’d run into each other today was slim. Cas had some weird excursion biology class on Fridays that was never back in time for lunch, so he could hardly blame himself for that one… and yet.

At dinner Cas still hadn’t shown and Dean was getting worried. Benny had left before Dean had even come to the cafeteria for God knows what reason but all the boys were still placed around their usual table. As usual they acknowledged Dean’s presence by scooting over to give him a place to sit while simultaneously they continued talking, and he mechanically took his place beside Victor without even thinking about it. That’s how everyone knew that each team member was a part of whole.

He couldn’t figure it out. Why did he feel guilty? It had sat in him all day, scratching at the walls of his lungs. He had nothing to feel guilty over yet it almost felt so bad it was near hurting. There was no good reason he couldn’t both be flirting with who-goddamn-ever he pleased and still keeping up his friendship with Cas. Was it because Lisa was popular and he wasn’t? Maybe he was kind of cheating on his friendship by having any kind of social life with someone else than Cas. No, that’s stupid.

Maybe – just maybe – it had at least something to do with the fact that he felt a little guilty towards Lisa too. She was pretty and awesome, but when it all came down to it, he would much rather be spending the whole night in a cold library with Cas than having to go to Crowley’s party and drink himself senseless and kissing Lisa equally senseless tomorrow. Which was even something he was pretty damn good at. It was his brand and everyone knew it – including himself; Dean Winchester was a damn good kisser. But he had to. He had to get Crowley of his back and proof to them all that it’s not like that with Cas.

“Be careful or you’re gonna hurt your head!”

Dean looked up from the bread he had been dipping in his soup which had gone soft while he had absently been stirring with it. He looked annoyed to Victor, who had obviously notices how hard he was thinking. But on the other hand comments like this was the reason he ended up on this side of the table with Vic and Benny and not the Crowley-side, even though Crowley seemed to be very pleased with keeping Dean right opposite himself.

“Very funny, Vic,” he smiled wryly, “Not that you’d know anything about that, though.”

Vic held his hands up in defense, “I’m just saying, man…” He joked, but then lowered his voice and continued in a more hushed confidence, “Worried ‘bout the game?”

Dean huffed. If only. “Naah, man. I believe in you idiots. Besides I’m there, so you can more or less fuck up as much as you please – I’ll probably just save your sorry asses again”.

Victor laughed out loud, sounding relieved, “Oh, man. You’re fine! Benny had me worried ‘bout you!”

Dean frowned. He had had classes with Ben most of the day, but he hardly remembered what he had actually been doing. He had been more or less like a zombie through the day. Thank God he didn’t have chemistry today, or he would probably have burned the whole school to the ground.

Vic explained with a hand waving it away, “It’s nothing, man; He just said you’ve been quietly pondering all day. Apparently you haven’t even noticed Lisa trying to catch your eye since gym class this morning”.

“Oh.” He didn’t know what to say. He hadn’t thought about her since this morning. He had only thought about Cas, trying to place his guilt in some kind of box in his head. Guilt was coursed by a lot of things; he would know, he was after all kind of an expert in that matter. But this? Something? Anything? And no; he wasn’t considering the fact that he had been trying – and rather successfully - flirted with Lisa and should have his head wrapped around that all day instead of the boy who saw them talk. He didn’t compare that. He just… he didn’t go there. There was nowhere to go with that–  

“…Dean?”

He tore himself from the thoughts. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just tired, ‘s all. ” And it wasn’t even a lie. In all honesty he just wanted to go to bed now and sleep everything away and forget. Besides they had a big game tomorrow.

“Guys,” he said calling them all up as he got up from the bench, “don’t get in too late – it’s a game day tomorrow and I expect you all in best shape! See you.”

He turned around to whispers from the guys but he ignored it. He knew he was a bit off today, so screw it. It would be over tomorrow as soon as he had been to that stupid party. He had left his food basically untouched… Maybe he was getting sick? God he hoped not; he didn’t have time for that crap right now.

A click noise sounded from the speakers before Gert’s voice pronounced, “Mr. Novak and-“ sigh “- Dean Winchester to Mr. Fitzgeralds office at 7 pm, please. ”

Castiel was lying with his head down into his pillows when he heard a gentle knock on his door. He sighed and decided to ignore it. After a moment it came again a little bit more persistent. 

He looked up from his pillow and scowled at the door, “Go away, Dean.” He wasn’t ready to face him just yet. He had been avoiding him all day and luckily for him Dean was a rather predictable person. He knew which halls he was going to take to get to his classes and lunch – he had after all been using the same hallways very purposefully before.

He had promised himself and told himself over and over again that he couldn’t dare to hope, but of course he had anyway. He just didn’t care to admit it. And that Dean had no idea what impact he had on him, so he couldn’t even blame him for leading him on – besides he had hardly done anything. And that kiss-on-the-forehead-thing may just have been a dream…

“Cas, it’s me,” Balthazar said at the other side of the door, trying to open it but Castiel had locked it from the inside, “Cas, it’s important – what are you doing?”

Cas sighed again. Of course it wasn’t Dean. Why would he even be here? Certainty not to apologize, because for what reason should he do that. He could flirt with all the nicest, sweetest cheerleaders he wanted to. He was after all the football captain. He got up and opened the door without letting Bal in.

“What?” he just demanded.

Bal looked slightly startled for a second, “Cas, are you okay? You look terrible!”

“You said important,” he was impatient. He didn’t want to have anything to do with anyone right now.

Bal widened his eyes, “Your wellbeing is important, Cas!”

“…apparently not enough,” he whispered to himself.

Balthazar looked up and down Cas before he frowned and asked in a hard voice, “Did he do something? I swear, if he-”

“No, no. He didn’t do anything”, which is the whole problem, Cas thought silently, “You didn’t come here to tell me about my wellbeing. What is of import?”

Bal sighed at him, “Fine… I just wanted to let you know that you were called down to Mr. Fitzgeralds at 7, if you didn’t hear it.”

No. No, no, no, no, no. The locker rooms. He had no idea that the janitor actually checked if they had done their job, and even though it had been nagging at him that they weren’t even slightly done when they ran out on it, he didn’t really have the courage to go back there and finish it up or at least nor alone. Then it hit him, “Was Dean called up too?”

Bal looked at him as to measure his reaction before he nodded slowly.

“Perfect,” he said annoyed. Could this day be any worse?

He pushed through and closed the door without saying another word to Bal. He just had to get this over and done with.

---

Dean was late. Of course he was. He probably had no idea that the janitor’s office was located just above the surface of the earth’s core.

Cas had never thought he should see Mr. Fitzgerald frustrated, as he always seemed to be in a jolly mood. Castiel sat patiently watching Garth as he was pacing the floor of the small room, waiting impatiently for Dean to arrive asking if Castiel had any idea where he had gone and keeping reminding Cas to call him “Garth” in a more and more hard tone of voice.

Despite the faint stench of dampness in the close quarters there was an obvious and more or less succeeded try to make it cozy with a dark red rug on the cement floor and old pictures hanging from the walls beside tool shelves. Cas was placed at a stool in front of a messy desk of dark wood facing away from the door, discreetly glancing at the big watch hanging on the wall behind the desk next to an old picture of a small family of three. Dean was now 10 minutes late and Cas was beginning to hope that he might not show… but then again if he didn’t Naomi would probably have him out of here before the football season had even begun and Cas would mind that very much. He didn’t want to get rid of him, he just wanted to have him far away. Or really very close.

Garth was just about to pull his already thinning hair out as he stopped in his track and looked at Castiel: “Maybe you could go find him? You seemed to get here with ease – he’s probably out there in the halls somewhere.”

Cas’s heart may have skipped a couple of unpleasant beats, at that suggestion. There was no way in hell he would walk around looking for Dean in the basement halls.

Suddenly Dean stumbled into the office with the grace of an elephant in a porcelain shop. Castiel didn’t turn around to face him, but he could hear it on the way that he moved that there was no doubt that it was him. He just stared directly at the watch, now with the only purpose of watching the second hand moving; counting down the moments till he could get out of there.

“Sorry, sir, I-“

“GARTH!” the janitor suddenly yelled at him and gave Cas a startle, “How many times do I have to tell you? It’s Garth!”

Dean cleared his throat uncomfortably, “Sorry, Garth. And sorry for the delay, I got lost on the way.”

Cas could almost hear Dean’s wry smile at his own stupidity and he felt like smiling at it too, but no. It was not the time and place.

Garth pointed at a place behind Cas, and Dean dragged another stool to sit beside Cas, who had the feeling that Dean might be looking as straight ahead as Cas was trying to do, even though the stool was closer to Cas’s than he liked. They were almost sitting side by side.

Garth placed his hand at the office chair at the desk and looked rather despairing at the boys opposite him, “I’m new at this job, guys. I really want you to do well and I thought I was going rather easy on you.”

“You are, sir,” Cas submitted but received a somewhat annoyed look from the janitor. “Garth,” Cas followed up, and looked down in his lap. Maybe it was better to stay quite at this side of the desk.

“The headmistress isn’t very pleased with you as it is,” Garth continued, “She asked me to come to her if anything didn’t go as planned, but I get the feeling that will have a rather unpleasant outcome.”

Cas was pretty sure Garth wasn’t looking at him, as Dean began to stir with unease.

“Therefore…” the janitor held a pause as if he wasn’t quite sure of his forthcoming statement, “I’m thinking of not telling her this.” He started fiddling with his hair again albeit not as eccentric as before Dean arrived. “So instead I need you to do something else to make up for making the locker room worse than before you tried to clean it.”

Apparently both Dean and Cas had an interrupting thought at exactly the same time albeit very different ones.

“Of course, si- Garth,”

“But Garth, we have a big game tom-”

The surprise at hearing the other talk at the same time as they wanted to get a message across had them both turning their heads. The eye contact was so sudden that Cas felt himself blush, probably mirroring Dean to the last change of color. And the room silenced.

“Yaaes…,” Garth started like he was interrupting something very private and Cas stopped looking at Dean. Dammit, why did he always get stuck looking at him. “I know you have a game tomorrow… Dean.”

And first then Cas felt Dean turn away which didn’t do any favors to Castiel’s blush.

Garth continued with his newfound attention, “Right, so I know you have the game tomorrow and the headmistress explicitly said not to put anything before your games. Apparently she has you rather dear in the field, but she said nothing about after.”

Castiel heard Dean swallow and he knew that he was thinking about that party that he probably would much rather concern himself with than spending time with Cas.

“I just need you to clean it up – but very thoroughly this time. No dry spots. Got it?”

“Yes sir,” They both answered and earned a tired look and a sigh from Garth who was obviously getting too tired of correcting them.

“Fine, you can go now. And good luck with the game.”

“Thanks Garth,” Dean said as they got up from their stools inevitably brushing their hands and thighs which send a chill through Cas that he didn’t want.

---

Cas was ready to leave the same way as he entered as soon as they were out of the door, but Dean had other plans.

“This way,” he said cocky and gripped Castiel’s hand.

Cas was so surprised by the sudden control that he ripped his hand from Dean. “No,” he said simply and turned to go the other way.

“Oh, come on Cas,” Dean said and turned Castiel by the shoulders, “I got in this way. It’s a shot cut.”

His smile was annoying. Beautiful but annoying. “You were late.”

“Well,” he said with his usual smile getting a little tired. Maybe he wasn’t all that well, “I did take like five other corridors to find this one, but this is the fastest one.”

Castiel sighed. “Fine,” he gave in but only because Dean seemed a little more tired than usual, though rather determent, “If you are sure even though I highly doubt it.”

“Thanks for the support, Cas,” Dean answered with a tired smile before he reached for Castiel’s hand again, but Cas withdraw. He shouldn’t get of this easy. Yes, Castiel was a little bitter and maybe even a little jealous but so what? He was gay and he might have a huge crush on the football captain who was crushing on everybody else, so he felt he had a right to. At least that is how he justified it to himself. Besides Dean hadn’t exactly been all that clear about the not-gay thing – at least not when he curled up next to him and slept over…

They walked in silence, Dean leading the way seemingly a little downcast. They ended up in a long, dim cement hallway with a door at the end… which was locked.

“I swear it was open before. I’m sure it’s here,” Dean said embarrassed as he tried the door handle for the thousandth time.

“Of course you did,” Cas said without any patience left. He tried, he failed. The end. ”You are the most predictable human being on this earth, Dean”

Dean turned around looking hurt, “So me fucking up is predictable, is that what you’re sayin’?”

Castiel wasn’t being fair and he knew it, but neither was Dean, “Not necessarily the doing-wrong part, but your behavior is predictable. You take the same routes to your classes, you say the same jokes, you spend time with the same idiotic people who doesn’t care for you -“

 “That’s not true. I can hardly predict what I am doing most of the time at the moment. Things just seem to happen!”

“- you flirt with the same cheerleaders…”

It visibly dawned on Dean, “Oh so that’s what this is about. Lisa? I ran into her by coincidence. Actually I-”

“Oh yes, of course. Like running into that cute cheerleader that you have a thing for in the most crowded hall way was a coincidence,” Castiel raised with despise in his voice.

“Actually it was, but you know what? I’ve been trying to wrap my head around this all day and I’m done. I can talk to whoever I want whenever I God Damn please. And it has nothing to do with you.”

“Of course it hasn’t! Why would it have anything to do with me?” Castiel almost yelled defiantly, hating every word as he killed his own stupid, naïve hopes.

“I don’t know, Cas, why are you so worked up about it then?”

“Why are you?” he remembered how his brother once told him that the best answer to a question was another question.

“What are you talking about?” Dean looked confused.

Oh, now Cas had him, “You just said you had thought about it all day, so why are you worked up about it, and why did you say it has nothing to do with me?”

“Oh, come on Cas. Don’t be like this,” Dean said sighing and looking everywhere else but at Cas.

“Just answer the question, Dean.”

He scratched at his neck like Castiel had noticed he always did when he was nervous, “I just… I don’t want to see you upset and you clearly were. Wait…” he looked at Cas with wide eyes, “Are you jealous?”

Cas swallowed. No. No, I’m not. The words got stuck in his throat and he felt like he was gaping like a fish.

“Is it Lisa? Because you can have her. I don’t want to be with her if-”

“-Dean, you idiot,” Cas had out shaking his head, before he realized he might would have wanted to hear the last part of that sentence, “Wait… if what?”

“Who? What?” Dean said confusingly like he was trying to take it back.

“You wouldn’t be with her if… what?”

“If… uhm… you know, it jeopardizes this,” he said and waved a hand between them, “You know. Us. Our… friendship or whatever…” He fell silent struggling with what he was trying to say.

Cas looked at him feeling a bit sad for him, “What is… this?” He did the same wave between them.

“I don’t know. A friendship, I guess. A rather rapidly developing one, but… you know.”

“If this is a friendship,” Cas continued carefully, “then why are you trying to hold my hand whenever you get the chance.”

“Because I want to.” He answered without hesitation, obviously realizing his words and looking down. Then he looked back up at Cas, “It’s just a feeling. I told you I’m not that predictable. I’ve no idea what I’m doing around you…”

Cas caught himself holding his breath. “Dean,” he sighed trying to find a little courage, “Did you kiss me when you left last night?”

“I’m not gay, Cas,” the words came out flat and they stung Cas a little more than he had expected.

But Dean hadn’t answered the question, “But did you?” Cas tried again.

Dean fell silent. It took a moment for him to look up at Cas now with eyes wide and blood drained from his face. “No,” he whispered.

Cas took a hand to his temple feeling the place he was being more and more sure of Dean had touched with his lips with his fingers, “Just right here.”

The blood in Dean’s body took a betraying revenge as it came back to his reddening face with a full blown.

“I just…” Cas could hardly believe Dean was out of words in this area. He swallowed before he continued planting a hand on his own forehead and dragging it through his blond hair and looked down, “I… I don’t know what happend, okay? It just did! I had to go and you couldn’t just lie there without a cover so I…” He paused. Slowly he looked up at Cas like was he begging him not to make him say any more.

Cas relieved him from it in the worst way he could come up with, “So you tucked me in and kissed me goodnight?” he asked with a teasing smile on his lips.

“It’s not funny, okay?” Dean said way more serious than Cas was able to be right now, “I can’t control it, okay? That stuff just happens around you. That’s why I can’t predict shit at the moment. Not when I’m with you.“ He buried both hands in his hair and looked frustrated at Castiel, who couldn’t worry about anyone but himself right now, as he was afraid his heart might cave in or just simply stop, “And I’ve been feeling like shit all day since I saw you this morning, but that’s not fair ‘cause why shouldn’t I be able to talk to Lisa.. or any of the other girls for that matter, without fearing for… this… and I just. I can’t.” He leaned his back up against the cement wall.

“And I got that stupid game tomorrow…” he continued with a sigh and closed his eyes. He slowly reached out one hand towards him. Slowly but steady with the palm open towards him, like an invitation.

Cas wasn’t sure of what this was about but he slowly raised his own hand and Dean closed his fingers around it and pulled Cas a little closer.

“But when you’re done with the game,” Cas tried carefully, “you have the rest of the afternoon to splash the locker rooms full of water with me.”

A smile came upon Dean’s lips and Castiel fell a little relieve at the sight of it. “You know what,” he said still eyes closed, “I will look forward to that.” The smile fell a little as he continued, “Maybe I’ll just drop that stupid party as well…”

Cas swallowed a little air. It would be a huge relieve not to worry about Dean getting kissed at by girls in miniskirts, but then again he couldn’t take that from him. “Well, you shouldn’t do it for my sake,“ he said as he may have held Dean’s hand a little tighter.

“Naaah… I don’t really feel like going anyway, and if you don’t have any plans then, maybe... I don’t know. We could catch up on some reading… or something. If you would like to, of course. I get it if you’ve got other plans.”

The football captain was asking to study with him as an excuse for not going to the first big planned party of the year. This was going to the history books. Cas cleared his throat to not sound to enthusiastic, “Sure. If you really want to, yeah. We can do that. Or something.” Not that he at all was thinking about something else. Not. At. All. What? A boy can dream.

“Awesome,” Dean whispered and squished his hand a little tight but looked over all a little more relaxed now.

A moment later they decided to find Castiel’s way out and when they finally found the right door, Dean drew Cas in by the hand for a hug and it was the best hug Cas had ever received. The feeling of Dean’s body clutched to his own and the smell of Dean’s clothes and sweat and skin. He could have stood there for forever and they definitely did for a quite a while longer than any guy-friends normally ever would but neither of them was willing to let go. Inevitably they had to. Cas just drawing a last breath from the crook of Dean’s neck before they unwillingly had to open the door into the real world.

Chapter Text

Dean let his hands  feel his way up the muscled flanks before he let his lips touch the beautiful, warm skin, which he so often had wondered how would feel underneath his touch. He felt anything but disappointed. The warm marble skin had too long been untouched. Dean longed for another kiss as soon as one had fallen; pearls of sweat leaving a salty taste in his mouth, and not sure if it was his own or not he wanted more. He would never stop wanting more.

A hand tucked gently in his hair in the back of his head and he understood the come-closer implied. He made his way through kisses albeit in longer strokes this time; past the stomach, up to the flat broad chest, alongside the throat – holding there for a moment, earning sighs and movement underneath him, as he was nipping at the soft skin underneath the ear.

“Come ‘ere,” Cas’s intoxicating voice whispered against his own ear gently, playfully.

Dean kissed his way to his cheeks and alongside his jaw enjoying every single inch of their body’s touching each time; a hand disappearing in the dark, soft hair that always looked like had he just gotten out of bed.

“Kiss me,” Cas proclaimed like he longed for it, like it was the only thing he needed right now, “Please.”

Kiss me, the words echoed in his head. Kiss Cas.

Dean woke up with a start, bathed in his own sweat, panting. What the hell had he just been dreaming? And why the hell couldn’t he seem to snap out of it?

The room was all laid in thick darkness till he found the switch at the table lamp at his bedside table. The sudden light hurt his unaccustomed eyesight.

He waited for a moment, but the light didn’t change anything. The dream was still all too clear in his head. At first he had thought it was a nightmare, considering how he’d woken up, but the light made him a little more awake and a little more aware of the awakeness of his downstaires brain too. The panting and sweating had definitely not come from a nightmare. In a secret place in the back of his sleep-drunken mind he was not all that disappointed of the pictures in his head not leaving just yet. That feeling of Cas’s imaginary skin against his. Urgh, only the thought of it made him shiver and feel cold clouding his lungs while warmth seemed to keep floating downwards.

Dean tore the covers off his legs like a bandage of off skin. Yep, there was no denying it. Dean had a boner. Of dreaming of Cas? Or dreaming of sex? ..or both? Hey, he’s was a teenager and as Crowley usually pointed out he’d probably be turned on by anything with a pulse – and now in a dream where it all felt incredibly soft and warm and nice. Of course he was turned on!

He surrendered to the thought and fell back into the pillows and yanked a hand down to ride it out. No way he was falling back to sleep again with all his thoughts stuck in the wrong head.

It was probably just because he had just dreamt about him, that his only thoughts while jerking off were concentrated around Cas. Sure it was; when he had dreamt about a stripper devil and angel, he had done things to them afterwards, that they had no idea he’d do in that dream they had appeared in.

The fact that the tenderness of his thoughts in this current imaginary scenario was quite different and even though Cas had asked him to, he couldn’t kiss him. And he couldn’t climax, which was disappointing. It was like touching him everywhere but… there, and kissing him anywhere but the mouth was not enough but he felt a boundary, he wasn’t quite willing to push through. He didn’t dare to open that door.

After having worked on himself long enough he panted so hard the only thing he could think of was that stupid boundary. Imaginary-Cas begged to be kissed and who was Dean really to deny him that? He wanted to; God, he wanted to so bad! And this Cas was after all imaginary.

He turned to his night lamp and turned it off and got back to business. It was better without the light. It was more secret. He closed his eyes and lent in over Imaginary-Cas, looked him in the eyes, panting and sweating, before he closed the space between them and climaxed so hard into his hand.

***

The greatest thing about playing football was the raw of a stadium when someone scored. Not that Sct. Vanting High had a rawring stadium at any occasion but last year they had went all the way to the semifinals of the High School League, which was held at a rather huge stadium in Boston where everyone of the finalists, families, school investors and sports scouts were invited. It wasn’t filled all up but it was close enough.

Thanks to an exceptionally well played ball from Benny he had been able to put it in and he closed his eyes to take in the raw from two thirds of the stands. The cheerleaders didn’t serve the purpose of making anyone cheery today – the crowd of parents and students did it themselves. Those moments were the ones where he for a second realized the world around him; otherwise he was completely absorbed by the game as they played.

“Nice job, brother,” Benny shouted as they ran back to starting position, while he slightly embarrassed waved at his mother at the tribune. A small woman with a huge smile and incredible gesticulation.

“Right back at ya,” Dean said with a wink and got ready.

A day like this – the first game of the season – was one of the closest things the school team came to a crowded stadium besides from the end games. Everyone had their parents coming to watch them. Or at least one of their parents, most of whom were either there to play off some fake tears of proudness yet secretly envy-like hoping their kid would be better than the kid of the parent’s next to them, or to pressure their boy into being the best of them all, so he would get a scholarship no matter his own life ambitions.

Dean counted himself lucky. Neither of his parents bothered to show, which was a good thing ‘cause he didn’t want any of the parents at the tribune to be his – especially not if his own parents would be just like those at the stands. He could easily imagine John falling into chat with one of the other fathers and then the snowball would roll and football would be a thing his farther would want him to pursue, which he did not want. The game would become his fathers, not his. But luckily for Dean, John and Mary Winchester were busy people who had better things to do than to leave Lawrence on a Saturday. Not that he was quite sure what they were doing today except that his mother might be working or wanting some sleep from a nightshift at the hospital or something like it. On the other hand he himself might always have played it a bit down, telling them that it’s not that big of a deal.

The other team resets and his mind has again only focus on the game.

In the back of his mind, he knew Sam was there on the tribune somewhere and even though he couldn’t see him and he might never directly tell him, it really did mean a lot to him. He felt a little stronger knowing that his brother was there for him. Not that Dean wanted him to come to be a show-off, he just really wanted someone he truly cared about to share the experience with. To share this part of him with.

And Cas said he might be there too, so Dean figured that if he was lucky he might catch a glimpse of him in the back roves behind a book. And yet in some way he wanted to avoid him. Only the thought of what happened last night, made his head spin and his entire body blush within milliseconds. And Cas didn’t even know about his “last night”.

***

The game ended 4-1 to the Hounds. Dean had battled Crowley against his “Crowley’s Demons” since day 1, and finally they had settled on Hell Hounds and in daily terms: Hounds.

As the players were greeted by the parents, mixing up with them in the field at the front of the stands, Dean headed to the locker rooms as usual, having to make his way through the crowd. The only thing stuck in his head at this point was Cas, whom he was getting more and more nervous to see, afraid that he might reveal his wet dream in a wrong look or movement. Of course this was a silly thought – how could he? But never the less, he carried the thought of the dream with him like a deep secret. A secret that embarrassed him, only because it excited him.

“Hey, wait up, man!” Dean turned around to find Victor running towards him. They meet in a bro fist.

“Nice game, bro,” Dean greeted him, “Where are your folks?”

“My-“

“That’s what happens in these kinds of sports, son,” a paramedic walking by exclaimed in a loud sigh to a scrawny dude in number 45, as he was carried away from the field with a broken ankle.

“But he did it on purpose!” 45 yelled back, tears streaming down his face.

It was pretty loud and clear when Gordon had stepped down on the other boy’s ankle while running and broke his bones and if you had just even heard of the team from St. Vantinge, you’d know there was no accident in that injurie, which the paramedic clearly hadn’t.

Victor made a face before he continued, “My dad got called in for work, and they only got here in one car, so ma’ had to go with ‘im,” he looked a little disappointed and he may have read the frown on Dean’s face, because he brushed it off with: “but it’s cool, man. They saw most of the game anyway, and I spoke to them in the half-time.”

Victor was one of those guys who looked like a bulldozer in the field and who were an incredibly determined team player, yet Dean would bet everything he had, that Vic was feeling homesick. His father was a police officer and Victor admired him and talked about him with pride. He would never put out a bad word on Mr. and Mrs. Henriksen.

Dean had agreed to meet up with Sam after the shower to actually be able to talk without the fear of getting squeezed to death in the crowd.

Him and Vic pushed through the parents, students and whoever else had gathered. A couple of times some students clapped their shoulders and congratulated them on the game; even one time someone’s farther almost kidnapped Dean by the shoulder to tell him how well he had done with the team while calling him “son”.

Just as they thought they had escaped one of the cheerleader’s called Dean out and even though Dean didn’t remember her name, she sure seemed to remember him. She stepped right up to him so they were almost nose to nose and caressed his arm while staring at him with daringly flirty eyes.

“If you don’t stop being that good, you’ll take our work from us,” she breathed at him, “Maybe you should teach me some tricks.” Then she winked and waltzed off to her friends, hips swaying excessively.

Dean swallowed once and tried to shake that out of his head. Whoa, that was…

“I forgot how it is to walk with you after a game,” Victor said grinning.

Dean knew what he meant; this always happened when he was the course of a game going good; his own parents wouldn’t show, but others congratulated him; girls he wasn’t sure he’d ever talked to before came up to him like they were best friends… or maybe not friends. Still Vic didn’t seem envious, more like it amused him.

“Shut up, man,” Dean just said and walked on but in all honesty he kind of liked it. Not the crowd and the fake parents but the compliments. He liked that someone saw him and acknowledged him. Maybe it felt pretty good to have something like that, when he didn’t have his parents to be there like all the others had.

At the entrance to the locker rooms Crowley was waiting, leaning up against the wall arms crossed. Dean’s stomach turned. Their last conversation was not exactly pleasant, and the thought of him denying Cas was getting worse, even though the not together-part was very true. The small insomnia-episode last night did not change that fact. It just made the lines a little blurry in his mind today.

“Dean Winchester. Man of the day. Congratulations on the game,” Crowley said in his ever dry tone.

“Thank you, Crowley,“ Dean answered imitating the same dryness, “Why do I feel like you don’t mean a word of it?”

“Of course I do. It is my team after all!”

Dean decided to tread carefully, and nodded at him “Great, then congratulations on your team.”

He decided to continue towards the entrance but Crowley had no intention of letting him go that easily. He turned from the wall and looked at him, “And you seemed to be quite concentrated on the game, despite your… distractions.”

Dean took a deep breath, “It was a good game, Crowley.” What he meant to say was he played a good game. Two of their goals were from his feet and the whole team actually played as a team today and the only injurie had no impact of their chances. It was a great game, so Crowley had no reason to believe he was distracted.

“It was, Dean. It really was. I’m proud of that, I knew you had it in you,” Dean felt goosebumps at the thought of him making Crowley proud.

“What is that even supposed to mean?”

Crowley looked at him with squinted eyes, like he realized they weren’t on the same page, “You ditched him, didn’t you? Your boytoy?”

It took a moment for Dean to figure out why Crowley would think that. He hadn’t seen Cas since yesterday, and surely everyone knew about the meeting at Garth’s they were called to together, so that couldn’t be it. Unless… Unless Cas hadn’t come to watch the game. If Cas had been at the stands Crowley would definitely have noticed, so if he hadn’t been there… Well, with Crowley watching over Dean like a hawk it couldn’t come as a huge surprise if he was looking for him even if he weren’t there.

This was perfect. If Dean could just make him believe that he wasn’t even seeing him for more than absolutely necessary – if Dean could make him believe that he had told Cas not to come; like had he dumped him. It was perfect; he could have his Cas-thing all by himself, Cas wouldn’t be bothered and no one had to know.

“Yeah, of course I did,” Dean answered.

Crowley looked at him like he didn’t quite believe him, but then the worry-wrinkles on his face evened out and a wry smile played on his lips. “Good, I knew you had it in you, Dean-o,“ Crowley said and slung an arm over Dean’s shoulder leading him into the locker rooms so the rest of the team started to follow, a couple of them clapping Dean’s shoulders telling him “Great job”.

***

Dean had been greeted by the guys in more or less the same manner as the teachers and parents had greeted him in the field after the game. They were all high on the great win and throughout the change and baths and shouts about the game and the party, more or less all of them had walked up to Dean individually to tell him good job, and said that they’d drink to it later. Even Gordon had walked up like had they been friends forever and given Dean a little of the credit for the victory. Even though all of them was saying these nice things, it all had a spicy hint of despite-your-absence-the-last-week. Even though that part might be something Dean only imagined he knew it was true. If he had physically shown up he hadn’t been mentally there. Cas had flooded around up there, ever since the detention began in the white office of the headmistress.

He moved a sack of footballs from the floor and pushed it on the top of the lockers, making space for them to clean up, while Benny, Vic and some of the other guys yelled goodbye to him in various insults. They had all been so excited about the party later at Crowley’s; He lived in a mansion in walking-distance from the school and whenever there was something important to celebrate and his mother was away, he had it all set up.

Dean was not quite sure about it anymore though; he couldn’t help thinking that it might have been enough for Crowley that he supposedly had told Castiel to back off, and if it was, maybe he could stay back with Cas, watch a movie or Cas could read to him, or whatever he’d like. Just as long as Dean could be close to him again. He found it really hard to turn the thoughts of that dream off, but he tried anyway, to seal it in a mental box in the back of his head where he also had retired all the questions that seem to arise whenever he was with Cas. Questions about himself, that he was not really able to put aside with the “some-friends-do-that”-excuse.

When Dean was sure the guys were all cleared out he texted Cas:

Coast is clear

Yesterday he had as casually as possible asked Cas for his phone number, before they parted. He had smoothly gotten it wrapped into a sentence, to make it about the detention and that it would be smarter if he could just text him when everyone had left, instead of walking around looking for him. Especially today, when he hadn’t even shown up for the game. He would forever deny the possibility of himself blushing at the question. In a far hidden reality he had asked for Cas’s number so he would be able to reach him when he needed him to or felt like talking to him... Which was most of the time, but let’s not get ahead of ourselves.

He got an answer rather quickly from Cas almost at once:

 OK – Castiel

Cute, Dean thought to himself, whoever signs a text anymore, but it is kind of cute.

On one side he couldn’t wait to see Cas again; he already missed him and knowing that he wasn’t at the game made him feel that they were even more apart than he had originally thought. But for some reason he was also rather anxious about it. What if he in some way made it obvious what he had dreamt – maybe he would somehow spit it out in hints and Cas would sooner or later put two and two together. Oh God… what if Cas thought the wrong thing?

Dean began feeling sweaty and warm again even though he had cooled down from the game. Suddenly he regretted the decision of not taking a shower and get cleaned up before Cas got here. He was smelly and had dirt sprawled up his leg after an exceptionally good tackling and his hair was sticking out everywhere. He went to a sink in the end of the row of lockers and opened the cold water. There was nothing to do about the dirt and smell now but he liked some cold water splashed in his face just to clear his mind. He rubbed his eyes free from water with the palms of his hands and straightened up looking at himself in the mirror. Upon seeing his eyes slightly panicking, he swallowed once and took a deep breath.

“Calm dawn, Winchester,” he chanted to his reflection, “Calm down.”

He bowed down to the sink and sprawled cold water in his face again, while he silently chanted to himself It’s gonna be fine. It’s gonna be okay. It’s just Cas. There is nothing to worry about. Not with him. Never with him.

“Are you okay?”

The soothing voice came so sudden and so close behind him that Dean almost hurt himself straightening up way to fast, hidding the tap with his hand and splashing water all over himself.

“Jesus! Fuck!” Dean cursed at the surprise of Castiel Novak right behind him. How had that sneaky bastard gotten in here without making a sound?

Dean looked up from his hurt hand and the mess he had made all over himself only to be meet by a blue gaze of worry cutting through him. He didn’t like the way Cas frowned with worry; he wanted to caress those raised eyebrows back into his normal soft gaze.

 “Yeah, I’m good Cas. Don’t worry about it,” he said trying to relieve the gaze with words. This, of course, was before Dean realized that water was dripping from Cas’s temple… and his chin…  and his shoulder covered in a white shirt. Well, that part was not as much white as it was see-through now. Apparently Cas had stood directly in shooting range when he had startled Dean.

“Good,” Castiel continued, looking a little startled himself, which made Dean chuckle a little, “Because I heard the game went good for you, so I was hoping you’d be in a good mood.”

Dean knew what he meant; he was obviously worried about how the cleaning-the-locker-rooms was going to go this time, slightly traumatized by the last exceptionally inexcusable time, where Dean had sat a new record in being a particularly idiot. Way to go, Winchester.

He smiled a little sadly at Cas with the thoughts of his own uncontrolled self from last time, as he looked at Cas’s dripping face. Today was going to be better, he decided.

“The game went great,” he said while lifting his t-shirt soaked at the stomach and took the few steps towards Cas, who didn’t move but stood still like frozen. “Sorry about that,” he said directed at the splashes and folded the thin material of his tee that wasn’t completely soaked into his hand and reached out to wipe away the drops, while he continued talking, “Only one guy from the other team got a slight damage, and Victor did so well at the goal – you should have seen him at the end of the first …”

He trailed off, suddenly realizing that he was wiping Cas’s face with his wet and sweaty t-shirt. He looked Cas in the eye and he stood completely still, damp lips slightly parted and eyes bigger than Dean may ever have seen them before and Dean swore he wasn’t breathing.

For a moment Dean considered it. Yes, it would be easy to try it. To kiss him, just to try it. No matter what Cas would say around the school afterwards, Dean could always deny it. No one had to know that he did it. Or that he thought about it and that that dream kept creeping into his awareness like a damp shadow clouding the edges of his thought. All. The. Time.

But it was only a brief moment, because it suddenly occurred to him that he could feel the butterflies in his stomach waking up again; he could feel something in the little box in his head pull in him and he had to keep it shut and the butterflies quite. He could not open up for whatever was underneath. Because whatever it was, nothing good could come out of it. It was way too tempting to be “good”.

Still he had a hard time darting his gaze away from those big blue eyes that seemed so evidently endless.

Suddenly Cas took in a deep breath and fluttered his eyes like to get out of a trance and Dean felt the same thing happening as Cas took a few steps backwards looking down to the tiles underneath them.

“I’ll, uhm…” Cas said in a raw voice that did nothing good to Dean’s butterflies, while pointing over his shoulder, still not looking at Dean, clearing his throat, “I’ll go get the cleaning equipment.”

As soon as Cas turned around Dean himself stepped backwards till he reached the sink and was immensely happy to find something to lean back on as his knees felt like jelly.

When first they got into the cleaning the tension faded a bit, even though Castiel wasn’t quite sure if it was himself or the football captain who was the reason behind the awkward starring.

They had even begun talking; Dean telling about the game, sometimes a little more enthusiastically, like if he was nervous. Like if he only talked about that, to not talk about something else. It was a little weird, and Castiel felt like it kept the tension between them up where it didn’t belong. Since they had started talking, it was never really awkward with Dean. Even the moments that ought to be, didn’t seem like it, mostly because Dean was calm. But now Dean wasn’t calm.

Castiel zigzagged through the room with a foam canon, and marked the floor with it, being careful not to slip in it, while discretely keeping an eye on Dean, just because he was even more hot than usual. It seemed kind of unfair, that he should take him by surprise, so that he splashed water all over his white shirt, making every soaked part very visible at the same time as he was still sweaty and somewhat dirty from the field, with his beautiful blonde hair smooshed in every direction. And Castiel could only think about how it would be to calm that soft hair with his fingers. Yet Dean seemed to look in the other direction very purposefully, every time Cas neared his field of vision.

“Bang!” Dean yelled and clashed his hands together with the wet cloth he was holding, and woke Castiel up from a particularly good stare. He shook his head and continued spraying away from the little white mountain he accidently had made. Dean continued, washing the benches off as he spoke on with the enthusiasm of a 4 year old explaining a drawing, “45 just lay there, screaming up in the air. Seriously, it was so loud; everybody heard it!”

Cas swallowed once, trying to get his head back to listening-mode, “I… I don’t understand how you can be proud of that.”

He continued around the lockers hiding Dean from his sight. He stopped once and took a deep breath. Calm down, Cas, we’re almost done. Then you can go to your room and do what needs to be done.

“I’m not proud of it,” Dean’s voice sounded from the other side of the lockers, “It’s just kind of fucked up. And you know, if I can’t laugh at the accident, what then? They are after all my team, and no, before you ask – I can’t control them.”

Cas thought about it, but no matter how he turned it, he could never find violence as the right answer for anything. “I don’t-“

“Are you done foaming?” Dean asked.

”Yeah, almost there,” he answered as he neared to aisle to the furthest wall and the baths, “But I don’t see why you don’t speak up to them about the violence. I doubt it benefits the team”

“It doesn’t. Last year two schools turned down our proposal for guest matches. It’s bad. It makes the guys think they’re invincible if they’re violent.” Dean sounded a little tragic, “Anyway, that’s not the point.”

Castiel got confused, “What’s the point?”

“You know, sometimes you just have to accept the fucked up parts to be able to have it at all. We couldn’t work the team without Gordon, because if we kick him off, Kubrick is going with him and God knows who else.”

“Don’t blasphemy, Dean,” Castiel said automatically, and thought about what would happen if Walker and Kubrick got kicked of the team. They would probably get a lot more free time on their hands, and Cas may not have seen the last to the inside of Dean’s locker, “So what you are saying is, ‘take the bad with the good’?”

“That’s exactly what I’m saying,” Dean said and Cas could hear the smile in his words, and couldn’t help smiling himself.

“I like that.”

“Are you ready, Cas?” Dean said in a playing tone, and Cas was not sure.

“Am I ready for wh-“, and suddenly water streamed directly in his face. He spluttered and got ready to fight back if need be, but then he heard Dean laughing. He ran a hand down his face to be able to see anything and there Dean was standing with the hose to wash away the foam laughing so hard, that he had to keep both hands on his knees to keep himself up.

Of course he was messing with him. Taking the sweet with the sour, of course.

“You should see your face!” Dean got out through the laughs.

“Oh, no - you did not just…” Cas seized his chance to grab the hose from the laughing footballer and turn it right back at him, putting a finger for half the hole to make it splash even harder against his gorgeous face. Dean fought back still laughing, and Castiel heard himself tune in as he started laughing too. Dean caught the hose with one hand and Cas’s arm with the other as they followed each other’s footsteps fighting over the hose, more or less blinded by the stream of water equally hitting the both of them. Dean got the upper hand, with an “Aha!” a bit too soon, because as he had Castiel completely blinded, Cas got him pushed into the wall with one hand on his chest, while fighting of water from his eyes with the other. Suddenly Cas realized that the steady stream of water had gone away. He opened his eyes to find that Dean had dropped the hose, but hadn’t bowed down to grab it again. Instead he was standing with his back against the cold tiles, and arms along his sides, looking at Castiel with huge eyes and heavy breathing, water dripping from everywhere.

They were standing too close, and Castiel thought he should move, but there was something way to bewitching in the green eyes that made him unable to move away.

The cheeky smile on Dean’s lips was fading, and got replaced by something very different as his pupil’s dilated and the breathing got shakier.

“Dean…” he whispered barely hearable, not even sure that he said it out loud, but it provoked a very forced swallow from Dean, without any feature moving in his face.

He kept his hand pressed to Dean’s chest as he leaned forward, into the very center of his personal space, till he got so close that he couldn’t look him in the eye anymore without it hurting, and pressed his lips against the other boy’s. He earned a small gasp from him, as their lips touched, but aside from that, Dean didn’t seem to move a muscle, before Castiel felt his hand against his own chest, softly pushing him an inch away.

“What are you doing?” Dean whispered out through his lips, as his eyes flickered from Cas’s to the floor.

“Nothing,” Cas whispered back and silently thanked their lack of height difference as he dared the hand on his chest, pushing a little forward just to see how persistent it was. It turned out it wasn’t, but Dean seemed to try to press himself further into the tile covered concrete wall, which just made his head more perfectly angled for Cas to press his lips back against Dean’s again. He felt they belonged there and in that moment he could swear that he would never let go again.

Dean seemed stunned, as Castiel started moving his lips upon his, but for some reason Castiel didn’t mind. He felt already a lot was given to him and he was all warm in all the wrong places right now, but he couldn’t care for anything in the whole world, but the warmth between him and Dean, and the smell of Dean and the breath of him. Still kissing the other boy without a response, he slowly opened his eyes. He found Dean’s eyes closed, which first gave him a shiver of excitement, but then he noticed the frown playing at his eyebrow. Dean was obviously conflicted, seemingly fighting an inner battle right this moment, though his breath seemed to match Castiel’s own; deep and shaking held down in control.

Cas thought that he should stop, and release Dean from his pain, but the feeling was too overwhelming. He didn’t want to stop. He realized that if he stopped he might never get the chance again. But on the other hand, he didn’t want Dean to feel disgusted by him. He didn’t want Dean away from him. Dammit, Cas, what have you done?

He gained control over himself and paused his movement. Slowly he felt Dean’s lips slip away, as he moved backwards. Dean’s eyes opened quickly, like had he just woken up from a nightmare, but then Castiel recognized the look. Pupils still wide, Dean moved his hand from Castiel’s chest to the back of his neck in one movement, and clashed them back together, forcefully now responding to every move Castiel made.

THRUMP

“STOP!” Dean yelled from the sudden sound pushing Castiel away from him, so fast Cas almost lost his balance on the slippery floor.

Castiel looked up at Dean. As much as nothing in the world mattered before, everything mattered now. Did someone see them? How much was ruined? Was Dean okay? Were they ever going to be okay?

Dean stood completely still, like a deer listening for the sound of its hunter.

PUMP, pump, pump…

Castiel recognized the sound of a ball falling to the ground, dribbling by itself by the sound of it. Dean seamed to realize the same thing a second after, before he breathed out again and collapsed against the wall sliding down to the ground, till he let his head fall to his knees.

Castiel wasn’t sure if he could laugh. This seemed like a situation where people would usually laugh of the fright, but something in Dean’s rhythm of breathing made Cas aware that something was off.

For a couple of minutes Dean sat on the floor with his knees drawn to his chest, while Castiel stood still, not quite sure if he should say something or leave, so he decided to stay in silence. After a while Dean took a deep breath, pushed himself from the floor and reached for the hose. He walked around the room without a word, washing the foam away. A hard and cold knot had formed in Castiels stomach, which he had no idea what to do with other than just let it be for the moment. He grabbed the swab and followed the water to the drains.

Dean put the equipment back in the closet and left Cas in the big, silenced locker room without waiting for him to come along.

Castiel had never been this confused in his life. He knew, that he had started the kissing, but he was sure that the feeling of Dean; his body, his breathing, his eyes had not wanted him to stop at all. Besides Dean could have stopped it much earlier. Unless Castiel was some kind of experiment for him to try out, but even so Dean had grabbed around his neck and continued the kissing, burying their lips together again. There had to have been something, right? Just a little bit of something…

Castiel had sat down on the benches, elbows on knees and fingers buried in his hair. He felt sad. He felt rejected. Nothing seemed to matter in this world anymore. He may have ruined everything with Dean. How could he have forced himself upon him like that. Of course he had had to give him time – even though he didn’t do it on purpose. He hadn’t been thinking. Why couldn’t he just have been thinking!

He heard the door open to the room. For a second he hoped it was Dean, coming back to him, but he knew very well that it was a silly thought. After all Dean was rather stubborn.

Two pairs of boots stopped in front of him, but in the moment he couldn’t find it in himself to care.

Chapter Text

Dean lifted the almost empty flask to his mouth and poured a good mouthful down his throat, drying the spill away from his chin with the sleeve of his jacket. He almost tripped in the roadside, telling himself it was a combination of a hole in the road and the darkness rather than the emptiness of the wine bottle. The trees towered up along the right side of the road, only lit up by the small houses with their residents at home on the left side.

A little further in front of him Gordon was yelling at a house with his own bottle of whatever, screaming, laughing, dancing in the middle of the road together with Kubrick and Kramer, the newcomer who had only just made the team and had sat out, had fast found his place.

For some reason they all seemed a bit blurry to Dean, not sure if it had to do with the night, the fog or the wine, but he didn’t care. He guessed they were celebrating, but at this moment Dean could not remember anything that had happened before-… Anyway, but he couldn’t fathom anything worth celebrating.

It was slightly unusual for him to take the warm-up-and-get-drunk walk to a party with these guys. Normally he would go with Benny and Victor, but they would only try to cheer him up, and he didn’t want that right now. He wanted to hurt. He wanted to drink. He wanted, more than anything, not to think.

The house in front of Gordon had the street lit up. It was a small cozy house, with a white picket fence and red transoms. Dean admired it on a distance. He imagined that he might end up happy and warm in a home like that someday. It was nothing like the house he had grown up in, but what he thought it could have been, under different circumstances. Gordon had stopped in front of it, leaning himself upon the fence and pointing at it with his bottle as if he was holding a gun at the nicely lit up window, spoiled with flowers and small sculptures.

“You gnow who lives ‘ere,” Gordon mumbled as Dean caught up, in the obvious believe that he was saying it clear as day, “Faggets. A couple of goddamn fagge… ohw,” he dropped his bottle down into the garden. Dean froze right behind them. Unpleasent unrecognizable feelings found their place in his drunken body, and made him feel sick whitin seconds.

While Gordon was hanging from one side of the fence to the other to get his bottle back, Dean took a sip, but drank to the last drop of his wine, took a few steps back and then got ready with the bottle well placed in his right hand, arm well further back than his head. And then he ran. He took the few steps towards the fence and threw as hard as he could as the bottle left his hand and flew straight through the window, crashing when glass met glass.

“Holy shit!” Kubrick and Gordon managed at the same time. Dean would have loved to see their faces at this moment, but he was too caught up in his own built-up wrath to be able to take his eyes off of the cracked window. He was looking at the warm light shining from in there. A light that promised relaxation, easiness and happiness, which made the light the most irrational and ignorant thing in the whole wide world. It was mocking him and his inner demons with it’s bare existence. But right now he needed his demons. He deserved them. “Dean?” And no kind of happiness lighting up the night, should just appear and try to win him over. How dared they?

“Hey Dean – let’s go!” Kubrick suddenly yelled at him halfway through a laugh, grapping his wrist to make him come along. Dean looked at it in surprise of the touch, while he went with them running down the road. His knuckles were swollen and red, and Dean could have sworn they hadn’t looked like that during the game today, and it was newer – but then again; since when did he check in on Kubricks wellbeing ever, anyway?

“I’m calling the cops!” a voice yelled after them from the broken window and somewhere down in Dean’s gut it hurt like a needle pinching in his belly but he ignored it with all the alcohol he could feel in his blood and all the energy he could muster in the flight.

***

“Dude, what the fuck man, I thought you’d decided not to come,” Benny yelled over the music at Dean when he tread into the hall and send a surprised and slightly disgusted look at the company Dean had brought with him.

No matter how many times Dean came to Crowley’s mother’s mansion it was never not going to stun him a little. The floors of the big hall was white, maybe marble, the lofts were high and a huge staircase lead up to the upper floors, and wherever you went in the huge home Dean was already a little more afraid of dragging mud in on the carpets or spilling drinks in the furniture.

The hall was packed with people with drinks in all colors and glittered clothes, which Dean suspected must be in again, not really noticing him as he came into the room. He looked for familiar faces between them, but he didn’t recognize most of them.

Benny managed to squeeze his way through the masses and into Dean’s field of view. “Hey brother,” he said sounding a little worried and sticking a beer into Deans hand, “What’s up.. oh!” he exclaimed when Dean looked at him and his breath hit the other boy’s face.

That was when Dean realized that he may have been a little more drunk than he had first thought; he didn’t really listen, he couldn’t focus and he really had no good answer to “what’s up”.

Good, he thought to himself, mission accomplished.

Ben reached out for the beer he had given Dean, “Maybe you’ve had a good headstart, bud, ha’?”

“Yeah, it’s perfect,” Dean said in a slightly hoarse voice, which he didn’t know where had come from and held the beer to his mouth before Benny could take it back and walked straight past him and into the crowd.

***

“You know,” Dean said to the redhead, as he poured another shot of tequila, “Under different circumstances, I would have asked you out on a drink before this.” Everyone around them laughed loudly, while some girl tuned in with, “You never did!” and another boy, “Sure, you would Wincheseter!”

Dean raised his shot over the girl, “You want me to do one more?” he asked the room and everyone cheered loudly. He had ended up in the kitchen doing bodyshots from some redheaded girl, who reminded him about Christmas, on the kitchen island.

The room cheered, someone had their phone in his face saying, “Smile for the camera, Dean-o”, while the girl planted the lemon in her mouth this time. He didn’t even think about it; Tequila, salt, lemon. And tongue apparently. The cheering got even louder. Well, that could have been worse, but definitely also very much better. Like wetter. And warmer at the same time. Just the thought got him a little hotter.

Stop it, Dean. Don’t go there. Fucking don’t.

This was the exact point the tequila hit him. Hard.

This is wrong. What am I doing, he thought. Or maybe he said it, he had no idea. He got up from the girl, and stumbled out of the kitchen and into a wall. Which definitely hadn’t been there before. The floor came up to his butt and a chairleg supported welcomingly his back.

“Whoa, haven’t you had more than enough?” a known voice said.

Had he just been out, or had she appeared out of the blue?

He opened his eyes slightly and recognized probably the most awesome girl in this entire place squatting down beside him. And entire was a lot. Because this place was “huuuuuge!”

 “Huge? Really? That is probably the worst compliment you have ever given me at a party, but screw it – I’ll take it!” Jo answered him with a grin.

Dean’s only thought of action was to hug her, even though he wasn’t quite sure if he did it more for the balance of it, but it resulted in him pulling her to the ground with him. “I’ve missed you,” he said buried in her loose golden locks, before he realized how true that was. It’s almost been a week since he really spoke to her.

“It’s been so long,” he tried even though the words were shielded off by her hair… and maybe also by the alcohol in Dean’s everything.

“Yeah, you haven’t been around much lately. What have you been up to? The charity case?” Dean felt her pressing away from him, and it felt like a rejection, before he realized it was because she wanted to look at him.

“No…” he mumbled looking down in his lap at his empty hands there. They felt more empty with the thought of Cas. Even the namecalling of him, hurt him now. What’s wrong with me? “I don’t wanna talk ‘bout ‘im.”

“… Why?”

He buried his face in his hands. It was nice. They were cold. “I’m not with.. We haven’t… We’re not seeing each other anymore,” he tried but realized how it sounded and knew he was kind of wishing those words had actually made sense and been the best way to explain it. “I mean, at all…”

Jo seemed confused. She obviously didn’t understand him, but that might be a good thing, because he was about to say a little more than he’d normally like to. Besides he wasn’t quite sure he understood himself right now.

“So… you are not seeing each other at all? Is that what you’re saying?”

“Yes. I think so.”

She lay a hand on his shoulder, “But Dean, you’ve been seeing him almost every day in the last week haven’t you? Because if you are breaking the rules again, I will kick your butt down into the basement and lock you up, ‘cause there are no way that you are leaving me here on this God awful school, got it?”

He fell quite for a while. Maybe it was best like this. No one had to know about the thing that had made him a more awful person than usual. Oh God, he had just left Cas there. Again. After… that. How could he be that kind of person. Fuck him.

He smirked at Jo; the only real defense he knew “The basement, huh? You perverted, son of a bitch, when can we start?”

He had seen the punch to his shoulder for miles away, and he pretended it hurt more than it did, just because he knew it would irritate her. Besides it probably did hurt a little, even though he couldn’t really feel it. Oh, the welcoming effectiveness of alcohol.

“I’m gonna go out for a smoke, wanna join? Bet you could use the fresh air,” Jo offered.

“Nah, I don’t think my lungs can handle that much fresh air,” he grinned.

“Suit yourself,” she said and got up from the floor, “but I don’t think your liver can handle anymore liquor either.”

When he realized he couldn’t sleep in a sitting position without falling down, he decided to leave his place on the floor between the kitchen and the living room. He wasn’t sure where the balance was placed in the body, but at this moment he was praising it.

For some unknown reason he walked towards the living room with the loudest music; maybe because it was filled with people. He said hello to someone on the way, but forgot their faces as soon as he had passed them. A huge leather armchair was surprisingly free and its comfortableness was not to be mistaken.

Dean sat down, almost falling, and yep, the chair was even less comfortable than it looked, but hell, it had an astonishing view over the dance floor, where girls a lot younger and a little older than him was dancing. Or maybe it was the floor moving, Dean couldn’t be sure. Some of them was even looking in his direction, like if they were all trying to compete in flirting with him. Dean didn’t mind. Not. One. Bit.

Suddenly a cleare glass of what could very likely be water filled his vision.

”Here, champ.”

Well, cold water was actually very welcome at this point. He took it with a grunt for thanks and drank the whole thing within seconds.

“Here, I’ve got another one,” the female voice said. Very possibly the same one who had said it before.

Then it hit him. It was Lisa. He straightened up and tried to take a proper look at her. She was dressed more casually than most of the girls at the party; jeans and a nice loose tanktop. Just another good thing about her – he was suddenly feeling like he was collecting those things like a reminder. Yes, you do like women. You always did.

“You look good,” he yelled over the music.

She smiled wryly at him, “Wish I could say the same thing about you.”

“Thanks,” he yelled back grinning. He wanted to tell her that he was sorry for getting this drunk and that he was actually honestly looking forward to seeing her tonight, but some… stuff got in the way. Or maybe someone, but who was counting. Or…

“Do you wanna get outta here?” he yelled instead.

Her smile got bright and lit up her whole beautiful face, “Sure.”

The staircase was more quite even though it was in the hall. Dean had thought for a second to just take her up to one of the many bedrooms at the upper floor, but the thought of it felt wrong. Which was stupid because it wouldn’t be the first time he brought a girl up there.

“Do you usually celebrate with… this much,” she asked and gestured at him.

“The better, the lesser,” he said looking down at the glass of water he was holding between his legs.

“More,” Lisa corrected him with a smile, “The more, the better.” Oh, had she just known how correct his statement was.

“Yeah, more of course,” he said and smiled at her to hide his lie.

His eyes fell upon her big blue eyes and something hit him in the stomach. He put the glass down, planted one hand one her chin and kissed her. She was warm and firm, and kissed him back at once, like had she seen it coming, which she probably had; it was after all what this whole mating dance had been about. She seemed controlled, yet a little shy. Dean had the upper hand. He slid the other hand through her hair, opening his eyes a little to see the dark locks slid in between his fingers. It was a surprisingly intoxicating sight. Oh, that dark hair, those blue eyes, the warm mouth. He slid closer on the step, feeling lap against lap while a hand landed at the back of his neck, playing with his hair. He let his tongue through his teeth and lips, and was fast welcomed by another tongue. It was like they were dancing a dance that Dean didn’t quite understand, but he was in it anyway. He opened his eyes slightly and was met by blue eyes, he could only dream about and it made him warmer in all the already warm places. Cas. He moved even closer, pressing him a little awkwardly into the railings as their bodies meet even more, creating even more warmth. It was getting hot inhere. He slid his hand from the dark hair to the back of his neck, pressing their bodies even further together. He was warm, but softer than he had imagined. Maybe he should have taken a room anyway. Knees, thighs, hips, breasts, arms… wait? Breasts?

Dean froze completely. Breasts. As in plural. As in girl. Fuck, dammit. Lisa. Crowley’s. How could he- Brain, function!

”Dean, are you okay?” Lisa asked looking a little worried, “You look pale – are you going to throw up, sweetie?”

Dean swallowed once. Yes, maybe he was, now that she mentioned it.

He left, so fast that he could hardly remember how he got down the stairs, but suddenly he was outside the estate, bend over a bush, that he for some reason had the brainpower – or lack thereof - to feel a little sorry for.

“You need someone to hold your hair?”

“Not now, Jo,” Dean answered the glowing cigarette in the dark light, hardly lit up by a window to the hall. He spit a couple of times, before he got up. He still felt sick but not a sickness that could be cured be a finger in the throat. He felt sick over himself. He kept wanting to be with Cas and he kept screwing it up or rejecting him, because of what? Because it neither did anything good to him or Cas. Why couldn’t I just accept it? It was so good – and hot, to be fair – and then I almost wet myself at the same time! Was I really that goddamn terrified?

“I’m the goddamn foodball captain, for Christ sake!”

“Yeah, you don’t say. But an incredibly drunk one, it would seem.”

He sighed and dried his mouth of with his sleeve. Damn, he was gross. “You been out here all this time?” he asked, throat sore.

“Nope,” she answered in an exhale provokingly in his face, “been inside a couple of times but found your tongue stuck in cute miss Breaden’s throat. ‘Bout time, though.”

“Yeah…” he said with a sigh and sat down at the stone staircase leading up to the house, “She’s not it, Jo”

“What? You’ve been winking at each other for at least half a year now and you are so close to sealing the deal. What went wrong?” She asked putting out the smoke on the ground, before sitting down next to him. “Did she have a piercing somewhere you didn’t like? Oh, please tell me she did!”

Dean sighed at her once again. Typical girls!

“No, she is just not C-,“ he stopped himself but she had already heard him.

“Cassie? Oh, come on man, I thought you got over her ages ago!”

“No! Not Cassie, how could you even think that?!” Dean exclaimed before thinking. That was like four years ago and she moved away from town without ever telling him. It took a while, but she was very long gone from Dean’s mind. Why would she bring that up now?

“Cas?” she whispered suddenly sounding like she was treading on very thin ice.

A light hit them when the huge door opened and Benny appeared. His savior, luckily. “Oh, finally, Dean I gotta talk to you. Now.”

Dean had only rarely heard him that serious. “Is something wrong?” he asked and got up at the same time, but found that his head wasn’t with him and he supported himself back to sitting.

“Maybe. I just need a moment with you.”

“Fine, I can take a hint,” Jo said throwing her hands in the air, “It’s freezing out here anyway.”

Benny put a hand on Dean’s shoulder and sat down next to him taking Jo’s spot.

“Okay, we’ve been friends for a long time, and you are like a brother to me, got it?”

“Yeah?” Dean answered, knowing that only something less good could come after that kind of statement.

“Then how can you do this?”

Dean got confused. Benny must be drunk too, if he thought Dean would just understand everything from that alone, “Do what?”

“This!” Benny said losing his patience and gesturing at Dean, “Why are you kissing on Breaden? Or doing bodyshots with random girls if you are in love with someone else, huh?”

“BUT I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM!”

Silence fell, with those words yelled out from Dean, before he could even think them. He realized they hadn’t necessarily talked about a him before Dean took the words, but there was no denying that now.

Silently Benny asked, “And how many times have you told yourself that?”

Dean thought about it. He had thought it, “Often enough”.

“Brother, if you have to tell yourself all the time, that you are not in love with him, what does that say about you actually believing it?”

Goddammit. He hated when Benny was right. He sighed.

“I thought so,” Benny continued. He put a hand on his shoulder, “Hey, I’m not gonna judge anything, okay? I like Cas, he seems like a nice guy.”

The name gave Dean a chill that wasn’t necessarily unpleasant. He wanted to pour it all out, now when someone knew. He wanted to tell Benny, that he had no idea how it started, but it came in waves, how he couldn’t stop thinking about him, the touches, the doubts, the kiss and that kissing everyone else just made the kiss even worse, because he couldn’t kiss anyone else without thinking of Cas, and he couldn’t kiss him because what would people think and how should he think about himself if he was actually to admit that he was in love with Cas. Ugh, just the thought gave him chills.

“Hey,” Benny said, stopping his razing mind, “stay with me.”

“He is. He’s a really nice guy,” Dean said instead of the other hundred things he could’ve said, and added as the truest thing he had said in a while, “I think… I wanna go see him now.”

“Yeah… about that…”

Suddenly Dean remembered the worry Benny had brought out there with him. “What?” he asked turning around to see Benny’s face lit from the window light, “Tell me!” he almost yelled at his best friend.

“Well, I just overheard an interesting conversation and I just wanted to know if you cared about Castiel, because then I thought you might want to know-,“ Dean grabbed his collar to stop his jabbering, “What?!”

The door opened again, and Jo stuck her blond head out, “Are you girls done – oh, Dean, what the fuck?”

Dean held a stiff look at Benny, not caring one bit about Jo’s shit right now.

“Apparently Crowley had paid him a visit in the locker rooms after you left. I don’t really know how bad it is, but Kubrick was bragging about maybe having broken a toe on Cas’s ribs.”

Dean couldn’t handle it. He pushed Benny aside and ran towards the school, not caring about how much his lungs were burning in the cold fall air. Having left Cas in the locker rooms for him to be violated, hurt Dean way more than any physical pain right now.

Cas was hurt, and it was all because of him. Again.

It didn’t hurt if he just didn’t move. If he just lay in his bed looking at the ceiling and didn’t take too deep breaths he almost couldn’t feel it. The sad thing was that usually when you begin to relax for sleeping you start breathing heavier, which made his ribs hurt again so, no sleep for me tonight, he guessed.

Castiel usually had a way to seem calm during the assaults, which he was more or less used to, but this time, he couldn’t find it in him too care. I deserve it, he had said to himself over and over while they kicked his rib bend and body bruised.

When they’d walked in, he wasn’t able to find it in himself to care. Of course some part of him was slightly panicking, but the part that mattered, the part that had control over his body, kept believing that he had earned every hit that would come – and they did, like raindrops on freezing winter mornings; cold and hard. He didn’t even care to look at his offenders before he was forced to, lying flat on his back, bleeding from his nose, and mouth from the punch that made his chin meet his teeth.

Crowley’s big ugly figure was hovering over him completely calm. The two boys beside him, Walker – who apparently hadn’t had enough bone-breaking for one day - and Kubrick were both breathing more heavily with hints of sweat on their foreheads, Kubrick’s knuckles reddened from the meeting with Castiel’s jaw.

All of these kicks and punches and Castiel still didn’t think it had hurt enough.

“Well, well,” Crowley began with squinted eyes, “There’s not much spark in you today, darling.”

He looked at ham intensely, making some hesitating kicks to Cas’s side, which made Cas wince and shift.

“Oh well,” he directed at his minions with a small smile, “at least there’s life.”

They chuckled as Crowley squatted down next to Castiel right above his face. “Surprisingly enough, I think I prefer you with a little fight. Where did you put it?” Crowley asked and provokingly petted his hair and chin, yet Cas knew Crowley was just waiting for his time to speak again, so why bother, really?

“Fine,” Crowley continued, giving Cas a little clap on the chin, “Have it your way, angelface.” Crowley shifted looking at Cas with a knowing face, which Castiel didn’t reciprocate, instead he looked straight onto the white locker room ceiling. A false and thick sweetness filled his voice, “I seem to remember a time not very long ago- and by that I mean a couple of days ago - when you promised me you could leave our pretty Captain alone. He’s been away most of this week and I suspect that you and that silly detention has quite a bit to do with that. Besides he’s begun to lie to me about this, telling me you haven’t been seeing each other, but you have, haven’t you?” A long finger traced down Castiel’s face until it reached the blood from his nose smeared all over his chin, and Crowley removed it pointing up into the ceiling waiting for Kubrick to dry it off in his shirt. “I also remember telling you that if you become a problem I will deal with you. This,” he gestured to the rest of Castiel’s motionless body, “is a faint taste. Do you understand that? Faint. If I ever as much as see you near that boy again, I will have a full course dinner served. Just. For. You, my friend.”

Not a problem, Cas had thought replaying the moment Dean had shoved him away in his head. No problem at all.

The nurse had been fine, Castiel guessed. They had refused to take him to the nearest hospital, because it was only a bend rib, which they couldn’t do much about anyway. In truth Castiel was sure they decided not to take him, as they then would have had to file a report on what had happened, and the board was not interested in the violence slipping out. Cas was happy that he had been able to avoid talking to Naomi just yet. She would probably yell at him, for not taking better care of himself.

It was hopeless.

Knock, knock, knock. The sound was silent and careful, but it had Cas’s heart racing anyway. It was in the middle of the night, and most of the students were home for the weekend or out partying. He held his breath and listened, but there were only silence.

Knock, knock. Who would knock on his door in the middle of the night? Balthazar appreciated his beauty sleep too much for this. He realized the thought that made his heart race was if Crowley or one of his understudies was coming to check up on him.

“Cas?” Dean whispered from the other side of the door, “Cas, you awake?”

Castiel let out a huge sigh in relieve. Of anyone in this entire world he wanted to cuddle up with Dean and have him hold him till all the pain, psychopaths and nightmares would disappear.

“Okaaay,” Dean whispered like he was exaggerating the one word, “I’ll just… wait here then.” A soft thump sounded against the door followed by a slide. Dean just fell to the floor… maybe he fainted. Oh My God, maybe Crowley did something to him too.

Castiel got instantly up from the bed, but was instantly knocked down on all fours by the pain in his side as he cried out silently cursing himself. He heard a shift at the door, “Cas? …You okay?” Dean asked worried.

Castiel tried to breath as little as possible and crawled towards the door; placing his back as carefully as possible against it, “I’m good,” he lied and tried to sound cool and not worried, “What about you?”

“Oh, hi,” Dean answered surprised by Cas’s voice so close. “It’s so good to hear your voice, man, I thought…” Dean trailed of. Castiel felt the same, it was really good to hear Dean’s voice. Oh, how he wanted to open the door and take him in, but he had no idea why Dean had really come, or what he was thinking. Dean cleared his throat, “I heard… you, uhm. They… Someone… Are you okay? How are you?”

Dean was talking slower and more pronounced than usual. Ergo Dean was drunk. He had been partying all night, and he was hammered. “Dean,” Cas sighed at the realization, “Maybe you should just go to bed. You’ll probably have forgotten all about this tomorrow.”

“What, no!” Dean answered sounding very offended, “This is important, God Dammit!”

“Don’t blasphemy.”

“I need to know, if you’re okay!”

“I’m fine, Dean, go to bed now.” When Cas was thinking about it, he might as well just fall asleep sitting up against the door. It might be more comfortable than getting back into bed and lying on his back. It was quite for a while. Cas let his head rest against the door and was sure he could feel the presence on the other side. It was nice. The pain and darkness was less lonely and made it a lot easier to relax. When he closed his eyes he only thought of Dean. He thought about the kiss. It was so warm and nice and hard and everything he ever wanted right up until the point where Dean broke it and he made him feel like an open wound. But I deserved it.

“’m sorry.” It was so silent and soft, that Cas was not sure if he had begun dreaming or he had actually heard it. He tried to go with the latter, seeing as it was hardly Dean’s first time to apologize half asleep.

“For what?”

It took a while before the answer came, so Castiel was getting more and more sure that maybe the words was a product of his vivid imagination.

“For leaving you,” Dean answered in a breath that sounded like a sigh.

Castiel’s first thought was “You better be!” but he knew it wasn’t fair. Instead it was actually him, who owed Dean the apology. If he hadn’t jumped on him like that there would have been no kiss, and there would have been no leaving, and they probably wouldn’t be sitting there. In that moment Cas wasn’t quite sure if that was really what he wanted, but he could appreciate Dean’s apology for having left him there in the middle of foe territory.  

“Cas?”

“Mm?”

“What happened? After I left.”

Castiel sighed which made himself gasp with hurt from his lunge. He wasn’t sure how much to tell Dean, but the sincerity in his voice made him start anyway, “I think maybe they waited for you to leave. At least they came in just as you had gone.” As he had begun he poured out and Dean was completely quite on the other side. If it wasn’t for the shifting he could feel through the door, whenever Cas explained the ways they had physically hurt him, he would have thought Dean had fallen asleep. When he told about Crowley’s warnings and the last time Gordon trod down on his ribs so hard it made him cry out loud, Dean huffed and asked him to stop.

“Please say they left after that.”

“They did,” Cas confirmed.

“Baby, I’m so sorry for this,” What, baby?, “We need to do something!”

“I know,” Cas answered and figured Dean’s pet-naming was caused by the alcohol, “I’ll go talk to Naomi on Monday, when she’ll be back. I’m sure I can talk us out of working together, so we don’t have to see each other… which is probably for the best anyway.” Cas sighed again though a little more carefully – he had to learn from his mistakes at some point, and might as well start now.

“No!” Dean exclaimed, suddenly sounding a lot more fresh.

“No?” Cas asked.

“I want to keep seeing you!” Dean answered sounding like a child, that isn’t allowed to do what he wants.

“Wow, you are drunker than I thought!” Cas exclaimed before thinking, but honestly did Dean not remember how they had parted?

“I just… I don’t want to not see you. We’ll just have to be more careful.”

“… what are you talking about Dean? We don’t have to be careful. I have to be careful. I have to not be near you again!” Why could this drunk Dean not just leave him be with his problems?

“Oh, yeah?” Dean answered challengingly, obviously also getting himself worked up, “And how are you gonna pull that off, huh?”

“I’m gonna tell Naomi, that I’m in love with you!”

“… what?” Dean went back to a whisper.

“You heard me. My family resents that I’m gay. They think they cleaned me at Bible Camp last year, ha!” Cas laughed humorlessly in despite, “They’d now idea it only made everything worse. The reason they put me at this exact school was to control any further damage by having Naomi to hover over me like a vulture. If they believe I’m in love with another guy, they’ll definitely pull us as far away from each other as humanly possible.” 

“But… you… wait, another guy?” Dean twirled around in the information.

Castiel frowned, “Yes, Dean. You’re not the first guy I’m… well…”

“No, wait a second. Don’t they think we resent each other?”

Phew, Dean was apparently too drunk to catch that little slip of tounge. “Uhm…” Cas hesistated, “I can be surprisingly convincing.”

“Cas?” Dean asked a little too knowingly for Castiel’s taste, “What exactly is it you’re not telling me?”

No way. It would sound so cheesy no matter how he phrased it. Besides only Balthazar knew somewhat. Dean didn’t have to know. Especially not him. Figure out a lie, Cas, come on… anything?!

“Cas, how exactly did you get detention?”

Well, saved my one evil to be welcomed by another…

“Caaaaas?”

“Fine!” Cas said, this was definitely better than to admit any kind of attraction towards Dean… which was frankly stupid, ‘cause hadn’t he just kissed it right out there? “You would get expelled, okay?” Cas started explaining himself.

“What?”

“You were going to get expelled for drinking at school property!”

“I don’t… We do that quite often, and we’ve never been caught before. What has that to do with anything?”

“Yes,” Cas answered, “You did that before the summer vacation. And a lot, it was quite annoying actually, but you were never going to get caught, because McLeod-“

“Crowley”

“- had some kind of deal with the old janitor. Nick always cleaned up your mess!” Cas stopped to let Dean follow up by himself. It had to come to his stupid mind eventually.

“Fine, and then what?”

Cas didn’t answer, “Think, Dean!”

“I…” He went silent for a moment. “Oh, wait. That first night back from vacation. Everything was cleaned up - all the mess after the boys; there were no bottles, no spill… but Nick didn’t wake them up because he couldn’t. Because Garth is the janitor now. So…”

“So who cleaned up, took the bottles out to the outdoor trashcan furthest away from the dorms, to not get caught. Oh, and got caught?”

“You? You cleaned up after us?”

Castiel was too tired to answer the obvious. “I stood with 15 beer bottles as Naomi drove into the yard. I got detention because I wouldn’t name who had been drinking that night. And of course she suspected me to be in on it.”

“But why would you do that?”

“Damn it, Dean! Because you were about to be expelled if they’d caught you!” Frustration was bobbling inside of Cas, and he suddenly felt like crying for all of it. The detention, the bruises, the pain in his side and his heartache most of all.

“No, they wouldn’t. I went to bed early that night,” Dean answered calmly.

“Well, I didn’t know that!” This felt like torture.

“But… why didn’t you just let them expel me? To you I was just another football player at the time.”

“No, you weren’t,” Cas sighed, “You never were.”

They sat in silence for a moment until Dean broke it but Cas had gathered himself. He was ready.

“Casti-“

“- Dean, I’m sorry. You shouldn’t be. I’m sorry for yelling at you now. I’m sorry for that… “ Come on, Cas, you can do this, “…that kiss. It shouldn’t have happened, I don’t know what came over me you were just so wet, and dirty, and your laugh and-“ he stopped himself, “Sorry… I don’t want to make you uncomfortable. If I could take it back I would.”

But then again, if Castiel really wanted to get rid of Dean for everyone’s sake, why not make him uncomfortable? “Dean… I couldn’t hate you for hurting me before the vacation, because I wanted you at the school. I wanted to look at you and touch you and kiss you.” This came way easier out of Cas than he had thought, “Yes, I have wanted to kiss you all this time, so maybe I’m not that sorry about the kiss. That’s why I took the detention; to make you stay in school because then maybe, just maybe, one day you might not only look back at me but actually walk over to me and talk to me and maybe even push me up against a wall someday, because you really are beautiful up close.”

Except for Dean shifting at the other side of the door, Cas got only complete silence as a reply. Maybe this was a bit too much. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone that far. Dean had to know this before, right? With the starring and the.. well, the kiss. But he didn’t want to stop seeing Dean! He knew he had to, but he couldn’t part from him and not at least still be good. “I was very happy with us being friends for a short while, and it’s fine. IT doesn’t have to change, we just can’t see each other anymore.” Happiness is a very relative term.

“Castiel Novak,” Dean said solemnly and seemingly a little out of breath, “I don’t want to be your friend, so could you please open this door?”

Cas frowned, “Those two sentences may make perfect sense in your mind but-“

“I want you.”

“You’re drunk,” Cas concluded.

“A little,” Dean said hesitantly, “I have been drunkner… Drunkener? More drunk!”

Cas giggled a little at him and shook his head, “But you don’t want to be friends? I mean, I know we can’t because of-“

“Cas, I swear to God open this door or I will kick it in.”

Cas sighed for the hundredth time this evening. When he came to the point in his life where he had to think back on why he had stopped seeing anything to Dean, to prevent himself from running back to him, he should remind himself that Dean was testing his patience hard!

Even though, he decided to go with it. One last really good look at Dean, couldn’t harm. Maybe even a small touch?

“Just a sec,” he partly supported himself up from the floor with one hand while holding a calming hand to his ribs to get up and unlock the door. He searched blinded by the darkness for the handle and opened the door to a little light from the hallway, feeling Dean falling inside with a “Humpf” followed by a laugh.

“I thought you were ready for me to open the door?” Cas asked with a grin on his face.

“You have a very comfortable door,” Dean answered from the floor, where he was lying on his back and sending his best wry smile in his direction. One of those smiles he actually meant; one of those which weren’t a mask. His hair was messy and his eyes, bright but blurry. He got up ungracefully, almost tripping over his own limps, making Cas laugh and Dean mutter a gentle “Shut up”, while closing the door behind him blinding them both completely.

Cas suddenly felt Dean come closer, placing a hand on his hands on Cas’s hips. Castiel swallowed in surprise and sudden excitement. He smelled a little of booze, toothpaste and fresh air.  Dean got closer yet and when his mouth was leaning against Castiel’s ear, he whispered, “You are like a drug, Castiel Novak, do you know that? You are my own personal drug. The closer I get to you, the closer I want to be. First the talking, then the touches and now a kiss. How will I ever recover from that?” Dean’s lips was brushing Cas’s ear and send waves of warmth straight to his abdomen. “I apologize?” Cas whispered back with a small shiver. Dean drew his lips alongside the skin of Cas’s neck, and Cas could feel the smile that covered his lips. Dean continued up his jaw until they stood mouth to mouth, without kissing, only touching and breathing each other’s air. Cas forgot all about the pain in his chest, for the pleasure in his stomach. This was something very new. This was way more intense than the messy kiss in the locker rooms, and Cas was not even the one in control.

“You kissed me back,” Cas whispered into Dean’s mouth, not sure if he was asking or stating.

“Damn straight, I kissed you back,” breathing heavily, he closed the space between them, drawing Cas in with a warm hand on his lower back and another cupping his jaw. They stumbled backwards until Cas was pressed up against his desk, enjoying the softness of Dean’s kisses and reciprocating every push and pull. It wasn’t hasted like the locker room-kiss, but passionate and intimate and somehow secret. Dean’s tongue darted out to part Cas’s lips, and Cas eagerly accepted letting his tongue dance with Dean’s in a warm and slow game of tag. Cas slid his hand into the messy blond hair and another at the back of his neck to pull him even closer. Dean took instantly the invitation and pressed even closer to Cas. Even though Dean wore jeans Cas could easily feel his hard on through both jeans and an pajamas pants, which just made him even more excited, pulling him even closer.

A sting of pain sent through Cas’s chest, made him cry out and grip Dean's closes thight not to fall over.

“Shit, what-“

“It’s okay,” Cas said and rested a hand on his bend rib while holding himself up standing with the other hand on Dean’s shoulder, “It’s my rib. It’s bend. It will hurt severely for a while, but it will be fine after one or two months.”

“Months?”

“Here,” Cas said as the pain wore off a bit, and reached for Dean’s hips, pushing him backwards till the bed forced him to sit down. Cas climbed with a little bother on top of him, till he was sitting astride his lap. Dean hummed and slid his fingers up under the back of Cas’s t-shirt pushing him carefully closer. Cas leaned in and butted their heads together, kissing Dean’s face from his temple, his eyelid, his freckled nose, until their mouth’s collided again. Dean pulled on Cas’s shirt till Cas unwillingly let go of the kisses to let Dean drag the shirt up over his head and throw it unto the floor without much thought, crashing their mouths together again, while Dean took his time to explore the new exposed area with his hands. His touches seemed experimenting and curious yet cautious, experiencing every part of Castiel’s upper body.

They were both breathing heavily; too busy feeling each other to do much more than just that. Cas pulled himself even closer to Dean in his lap, causing their erections to touch despite the layers of clothing. The new friction made Dean gasp and freeze in his place. He was still breathing heavily but he had stopped the kissing and the touching.

Cas was worried, not again, I don’t think I can handle this kind of rejection again,

”Are you okay?” he asked carefully.

Dean nodded against Castiel’s chin. “Yeah, it’s just… I don’t ever think I’ve been this turned on in my entire life.”

The answer made Castiel huff a smile and kiss his temple. Suddenly Dean lifted Cas into the air with the lightest touch only causing a little pain to Cas’s violated body, putting him down flat on his back on the bed, making him wince as he touched the madras.

“Sorry,” Dean whispered as he got up, messing around with some fabric-sounding stuff, and crawled back to the bed on top of him, holding himself up on his knees and elbows, to avoid putting pressure on Castiel’s upper body. Apparently Dean had slid his jeans off before getting back on the bed. He slid himself in between Cas’s legs and slowly lowered down, gasping as their erections touched again, now with only the fabric of Castiel’s pajama and Dean’s boxers between them.

“Oh, Cas,” Dean sighed as he buried his hand in Cas’s hair and their mouths fitted back together again into wet, kisses almost agonized by the lust between them. Cas slid his arms up along Dean’s flanks and kissed him back eagerly, sliding his tongue into Dean’s mouth to explore the warmth and wetness as he unconsciously started rocking his hips, grinding their groins together. He earned a moan from Dean, that seemed to take him by surprise as he laughed into the kisses. Dean started grinding in the opposite rhythm of Castiel creating even more friction between them, causing them both to breathe too heavily to be able to kiss; instead they just breathed into each other’s mouths, unable not to hold moans back. Cas couldn’t see Dean in the darkness, but he felt they had a complete eye contact anyway. Dean’s moans became louder, and the sounds were too good for Cas to be able to hold himself back even though it also stinged in his chest.

“Cas,” Dean breathed between moans.

“Yeah,” Cas breathed back.

“I’m gonna…”

“Yeah,” Cas moaned encouragingly.

Dean’s friction became even faster and his moans developed into a build-up for a cry that send waves of excitement to Castiel’s groin and made himself come a moment after.

Dean lay completely relaxed, warm and sweaty on top of Cas, his head resting against Cas’s chin. There they breathed the after-waves out. It could have been minutes or hours before their breaths evened; Cas completely lost time. They didn’t talk; they only breathed together, no one sure of what to say, or if there was any need to say anything.

Eventually they fell asleep, and Cas was absolutely sure that Dean made the pain disappear just a little.

Cas knew now that he didn’t regret the kiss this afternoon. Not at this moment. But he knew that he would probably begin to regret it very soon.

Chapter Text

”I have to say, Castiel, I was surprised that you would be the one to initiate this meeting, before I even got the chance to do so myself.”

Naomi walked around her table, tracing her hand at the white surface, before placing her thigh on it in front of Castiel.

The first thing Cas did after leaving Dean asleep in his bed yesterday morning, was to go directly to the secretary Gert and ask for an appointment with the headmistress concerning the detention. He had to. If he hadn’t he would maybe never get to it and he would still have been laying in that bed, looking at the other boy hoping he’d never wake up from that dream. Dean lying half naked in his bed, couldn’t be anything but just a dream.

“I felt I had to bring it to your attention,” Castiel answered not looking at the headmistress, shifting with her being so close. At least the table between them, made it easier for him to acknowledge her as the school leader, but in front of him, she was his aunt bringing lonely memories from his childhood with her.

 “Yes, it is about time you learn that. I am not the enemy, Castiel.” Cas could very well argue against that, but now was not the time.

She patted him on the head, making Castiel feel even more uncomfortable, as she got up and walked behind her desk sitting down in her chair again. “Now who was it this time?” she asked picking up a pen.

The subtle way for Naomi to ask that question, took Castiel completely by surprise. First of all, how had she known that he was going to tell her that he was in love with Dean, and second of all… what did she mean by “this time”? He absolutely did not go and fall in love with everyone on his way. This was downright offending.

“What do you mean this time?” he had to know.

Naomi looked up from her paper with a frown, “Well, you have been through quite a lot of beatings by now, but I suppose you are here this time, because it is getting worse, am I right? So…?” She said and gesticulated with her pen for Cas to cough up with the names… of his offenders of course. But…

“That’s not why I am here,” he proclaimed.

Naomi sighed heavily and let the pen fall to the desk with a small annoyed sound, “Castiel James Novak, I need to know who is doing this to you so I can do something about it. Otherwise I will have to send you to another school or home to be homeschooled again-”

“No!” Cas exclaimed with wide eyes before he knew the word was popping out of his mouth.

“Good,” she continued with a small satisfied smile, picking up her pen again, “Then let’s continue.”

How dared she use this against him? He was never going back to be homeschooled by Raphael or dad.

“I can’t tell you,” Castiel proclaimed. If he told her, the boys would get official warnings to their families and if they did that the beatings would definitely not lessen. Far from it.

Naomi sighed again, placing her elbows at the table, moving her fingers in circles at her temples, “Castiel,” she began with obvious suppressed anger, “You are here, because you need to learn how to socialize and if you are interrupted in that-“

“This is not why I requested this meeting,” Castiel interrupted frustrated, not wanting to hear any more about his family. Naomi looked up but Cas had silenced her.

“I cannot do the detention with Dean anymore.”

Naomi frowned in surprise, “Winchester?”

“Yes, Winchester,” Castiel answered annoyed by the insisting formalities, “He is currently the one I am having detention with.”

“… is he the one who…?” she tried, carefully pointing her pen in the direction of Cas’s left side.

“What? No! Dean would never do such a thing!” Cas argued out loud. He could never see Dean physically hurt him… but then he remembered...

“Well, dear Castiel, Mr. Winchester being violent is the whole reason that you are in this together. And you are absolutely sure that he had nothing to do with the falling out this time?”

“Yes,” Cas didn’t even have to think about it. Of course Dean had nothing to do with it. Crowley was the one not-so-politely asking him to stay away from Dean, yet Dean kept crawling back to him, so that wouldn’t make any sense… right? Unless… they are doing it to have a reason to hurt him and they are all just secretly mocking him?

No way. Stop yourself. He couldn’t think like that. Dean was way too drunk to be able to pull anything but the God’s honest truth off that night. He had wanted Cas with a desire, that Cas now found slightly alarming.

Cas had more or less been hiding from Dean since he woke up in his bed, completely tangled in with the other boy. He was surprised that he was actually able to remove limbs and climb out of bed, getting dressed and leaving his room without waking Dean. From the moment he was out of bed he didn’t look back, not even when he left the room, because if he had, he would most likely have crawled back in there. And he couldn’t. For Dean’s sake, because if Crowley found out it wasn’t Cas who did everything to turn Dean towards him, but that Dean did most of the job himself, Cas couldn’t start to dream of what would happen… But also for himself.

The reason Castiel found Dean’s newfound desire so alarming, was because he knew Dean’s stubbornness.

“Yes,” Cas said again and smiled a little at the thought of his own stubbornness.

“Hey,” Dean mumbled as he sat down on the bench in the locker rooms; toeing off his shoes and zipping down his sweatshirt while absently staring into the locker in front of him.

Benny looked over his shoulder with a surprised look and with a frown responded with an asking, “Hi?”

Dean heard the implied question, but couldn’t care. He felt for his phone in his pocket and checked it. Nothing. Of course. He had been trying to text Cas, he even called him 3 times yesterday, but the son of a bitch hadn’t replied and Dean had stopped trying to reach him. It was unusual for him to be this miserable and he didn’t want to explain it to himself. He was never in the receiving end of the silent treatment after a one-night-stand, and he absolutely didn’t like it… It was unfair. Cas had given him every indication that he wanted to… you know with Dean – he even kissed him God dammit. And he absolutely seemed to enjoy himself, except for the part with the hurt ribs…

A hand landed calmingly on Dean’s shoulder. “What’s going on, brother?” Benny asked with concern. He looked around, but the row was empty. He urged closer to Dean and lowered his voice, “What happened?”

Dean looked at him for real the first time since he entered the room. His expression and the way of his words spilled with the implication of Cas. The real question was, what happened when you went to see Cas, because you look like shit? And Dean knew it.

He hadn’t really had any control over what he was doing that night – it was pure instinct, which was a fact that he wanted to deny, but knew he couldn’t. 

“Dean?”

Dean did what he knew best. Flash a smile and lie, “Nothing happened. I was hammered. I miraculously found my dorm and passed out on the bed.” He half laughed, but Benny didn’t look convinced.

“That’s it?” he asked with a raised eyebrow.

“That’s it.”

“So why weren’t you in class today?”

Minor detail… Dean woke up this morning. Took on his clothes. Thought about breakfast. But with that the thought of the cafeteria and facing Cas came up. And hadn’t he met him there he definitely would have met the nerd sitting first row as always in English. And he decided against it and called in sick.

Of course he couldn’t tell this to Benny, so instead he concentrated very hard on tying his shoelaces on his football shoes, “I felt sick. Got better.”

He could almost hear Benny’s disbelieve, but Dean found his best smile, got up from the bench, clapped Benny on the back and proclaimed out loud, “Let’s kick some ball!” and left without waiting for his friend.

---

Most of the footballers were in the field when Dean got out. Crowley had his back against the exit and to Dean and had apparently lost his patience with the new player, Kramer, “What am I to do with the fact that he hasn’t been to school today? I am the team manager and I haven’t heard from him. ERGO HE IS COMING!”

Court in his own lie he was feeling good. He slung an arm around Crowley, who yelped at the sudden touch, “Chillax, mate,” he said nonchalantly with spite, “When have I ever let you down?”

“Don’t ask me to count, Mr. Winchester,” Crowley said through gritted teeth as he unraveled himself from Dean’s touch.

Dean looked at the players, who all looked a little lightened up by Dean’s mood. He realized he completely had forgotten what he did for this team and how it made him even higher. Maybe he just had to focus on football and everything would be better. He didn’t need Castiel Novak; a week ago he couldn’t even remember his name, so why bother.

Dean yelled “Let’s go” and everyone went to it.

Over all it was a pretty good practice. They did well as a team, no one was overly aggressive yet Benny was eyeing him most of the time. He went more relaxed to bed than yesterday that night, he had only checked his phone again about 6 times.

He could do this, he thought. He could easily do well in the field, high on the confusing feelings of worth, hope and self loath. He didn’t need Cas to like him back like that, he decided, while cuddling his blanket wishing it to cuddle back, slightly disappointed.

---

He was going to go down for breakfast today. Definitely. And he was going to class. Without question. He was going to face a boy, and going to come to terms with the fact that he had more or less slept with him while being drunk. Which was all it was. Drunken thoughts and feeling of a very straight, albeit very horny, teenage boy. Yes. All it was. It only felt like something a little more, because he was drunk – he was actually fooled by the combination of wine, beer and tequila – who could blame him that?

He took one last look at himself in the mirror, trying to talk himself into walking out of his door, rather than looking himself over, before he left. 

It was gonna be okay.

His teammates had already started of a bet when he arrived to their usual spot in the cafeteria. He had felt a tuck in his got as he turned the corner, but had deliberately not been looking towards one specific corner of the room, and went instead straight towards his spot between Benny and Victor.

“No freaking way. She’s completely out of your league, man! 10 grand that someone else is gonna take her before you can lay a finger on her!” Victor challenged Gordon.

“Oh yeah? And why is it you think that?”

“Cereal,” Dean said and tried to relax his shoulders.

“Have you seen her? She’s some damn fine peace o’ ass,” Victor explained and handed Dean the cereal.

“Hell yeah, man,” Gordon agreed with a couple of the other’s taking the same tune.

“Now… have you seen yourself in the mirror lately?” Victor stated the implied insult.

The guys laughed hard and Dean smiled. He smiled because they laughed, and because he knew he was supposed to, but truth was, he had tried so hard to listen to drown out his thoughts, that it only made the thoughts even louder. Luckily for him no one seemed to notice. Benny’s head was obviously elsewhere, looking at one of the exchange student tables.

Dean knew he had to face it. Maybe it was better to just rip it off like a bandage. He wouldn’t feel anything. Or maybe a little regret. Or some embarrassment, but that was nothing he couldn’t handle.

He took a deep silent breath, closed his eyes and angled his head in the direction of Cas’s usual table. Come the fuck on. He opened his eyes and found Cas looking straight at him. Dean’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden eye contact and he forgot how to breath. As if Cas realized he wasn’t supposed to look at Dean, he turned to look at a girl next to him. A brown haired one, Dean didn’t recognize instantly.

He looked down himself, trying to regain his breath, his strength, his train of thought. He felt everything. God dammit. Those piercing blue eyes had struck him. Again. He hated himself for loving that gaze, his beautiful features, his gravity defying hair.

“Aren’t you gonna eat any, brother?” Benny asked, apparently reappeared from his own absent thoughts.

Dean realized he was staring straight down into his bowl.

His voice. God, he missed his voice and his thoughts. He could look at him, but he couldn’t listen to him or touch him. He was lacking too much. He looked up to see Cas again. He was jealous of the girl he was talking to. She seemed to be listening intensely and Dean wished he knew what Cas was telling her. He wished he could look him in those ocean deep blues. She smiled and leaned a little bit closer, pushing her hair behind her ear. Wait? She’s flirting with him? And he’s not even wincing!

“Hey Dean-o, how was the dark haired action Saturday, huh?” Dean was jolted back to earth looking at Gordon, who had asked the question. How did he know? And how much did he know? And what are you gonna say to a question that straight forward? I’ll deny it all!

Victor coughed and murmured, “He means Lisa.”

Lisa? Oh right! Uhm… Smile. 1, 2, 3. “As is to be expected from a bendy cheerleader, I’d say,” Dean said with a wink.

“You got that far?” Kubrick asked in a jaloux tone.

“Naaah,” Dean said honestly. Well, he had to be honest about some things, “Got too drunk and went home too early. But damn we had fun, didn’t we boys?” The question raised a small roar of laughter and murmuring agreement.

“You got a lot of lady’s there, though, didn’t you, Cap’n?” Kramer tuned in.

“I did?” Dean asked surprised thinking back at the evening. Well, of course there was the drunk girl almost humping him at the dancefloor. And the girl more or less passed out yet insisting on body tequilas. And Lisa. The thought of her actually raised a small stick of bad conscience…

“Dean’s the lady’s man, aren’t you, Dean-o?” Crowley sat down at the table with a clap at Kramer’s shoulder and a wink to Dean, which made him a little uneasy. Dean half agreed but tried to get back to minding his own business, which in this case would actually be Cas’s and the brunette’s business.

He looked back at Cas who had turned away from her, which made Dean calm down for two seconds, before he got back in place with his copy of Our Mutual Friend in hand, which he showed to the girl who looked a little more interested in the nerdy way, than Dean liked. Dean could never muster that kind of interest for the book, but the book was their thing!

“Dean, wh-“

“English first, right?” Dean asked before Benny could finish his question.

“Yeah, brother, what’s up?”

“Nothin’, I just like to be early, ‘s all, “ Dean said and got up without having touched his breakfast and hasted to the hall.

If he got in late, it more or less, forced him to face Cas and that was not going to happen.

“Since when?” Victor's voice yelled out to stop Dean in front of the classroom, who turned around to see his two best friends following him.

“Since always.” They both stopped in front of him and simultaneously raised an eyebrow. “Fine, since now then! Who cares anyway?”

Benny looked at him with a sigh, “Man, you are like a brother to me-“

“-but you gotta talk to us,” Victor tuned in, “Open up and all that shit. No homo though.” Victor realized his words as soon as they were out and Benny send him a sharp look.

“No offence,” he tried to save it, which in Dean’s mind only made it so much worse.

“What the fuck, guys?” Dean spat, “You’re supposed to have my back!”

“… we do have your back?” Benny said questioning Dean’s statement.

“Then what the fuck is this coming up and suddenly assuming I’m queer?” Dean wanted to know. He was angry. More with himself than the guys, but he couldn’t help it; it spilled out.

“Dean, you told Benny you-“ Victor started.

“I was drunk and out of my freaking mind. I could have fucked a freaking goat that night if I thought it had made eyes at me! Got it? I’m not a fucking fag, and don’t-“

Benny paused him, “Now don’t say shit you’ll regret.”

“I hate him.”

He wasn’t sure where it had come from but there it was.

“I hate his freaking all-the-time-goodness, his know-it-all-attitude, his don’t blasfemy, Dean! His piercing eyes, his voice – have you heard it? Ha! It sounds like he’s been smoking since he was 5 years old! He is obsessing over me, and fuck it… I thought I’d give it a go, just for the fun of it of course. Just to see what would happen after a touch-and-go.”

Benny frowned, “So something… did happen?” He trod carefully.

“NO! Yes. I don’t-. Fuck you two! Both of you!”

He turned on his heels and marched into the classroom. Very mature, Dean Winchester, well fucking done you.

It wasn’t gonna be okay.

---

He avoided Benny and Victor as best as he possibly could the rest of the day. He changed spots at lunch and sat instead with Gordon, which had the positive side effect that his back was to Cas’s end of the cafeteria. They were betting on which students were still virgins and making fun of the foreign student from Germany and his stupid-ass accent. He felt that sharp looks from Benny and Victor but he didn’t care – he was having more fun with Gordon right now, than he would have with Ben and Vic. At least that is what he told himself.

Dean soon learned that the girl Gordon was so eager getting into the pants off was the girl sitting next to Cas. They had turned in their seats like girly tweens pointing fingers and gossiping, when Dean realized that Gordon was talking about that one girl in particular, which made Dean rapidly turn back to his lunch. He was not going to look in that direction. And what he saw was Cas smiling a giggling smile and the girl actually laughing out loud, like had Cas told her a funny incident that he had experienced. What if it was about him?

Unlucky for him, Gordon had detected the reaction, “You still friends with the man-twat?”

“I couldn’t give a rat’s ass about ‘im, even if I tried,” Dean answered darkly, more addressed to his sandwich than to Gordon.

The answer seemed to please Gordon, “Good. To be franc; for a second there you had me doubting your guts.”

Dean laughed out with what was probably the most fake laugh he was physically able to muster, “Oh really? Ha! What, were you thinking I was queer or some shit? Come on, dude, I may have been here for less than two years, but I’ve seen more cheerleaders strip down for me than you ever have. And for me, they do it voluntarily,” Dean joked and earned a hard punch in the shoulder from Gordon.

“Show off.”

“That’s fair,” Dean smiled at himself and looked up to get eye contact with a very unimpressed looking Benny LaFitte.

Gordon slung an arm around Dean and notched his hair with a closed fist, “Oh, relax Benny-boy. Live a little,” he said scornfully.

Dean pushed laughingly Gordon away, and imitated Gordon, “Yeah, Ben, live a little.”

When everyone began to stir and go to class, they figured it was time to get up and leave. As soon as Dean got up from the table, grabbed his bag and stepped into the path of what seemed like everyone, Gordon took a small step out beside him, just in time to tackle a student to the ground right in front of Dean. Typically, Gordon.

“See, I’m offering him right to ya’,” He said and laughed, in the same second Dean realized with eyes wide; it was Cas who had fallen over, sprawled out on the floor, books everywhere throngs of people where stepping around, ignoring the boy on the floor. He was panting and his shoulders were tense with hurt.

Dean’s first instinct was to help him up, but the thought he kept trying to push himself to believe didn’t allow him to move foreward. He watched Cas take a deep breath, like was he tired of this bullshit, before getting to his knees, but he was still panting and his shoulders were tense. Shit, his ribs! Dean couldn’t take it. He reached down to help him up, but was stopped short by Gordon’s hand on his shoulder.

“Come on, Winchester, let’s go” he said, already tired of his little prank. At the word of his name Cas looked up at and locked eyes with him; eyes wide in surprise at first, but then it changed into something Dean couldn’t quite understand. Hurt, maybe?

A scrawny kid came to and yanked an arm under Castiel to help him up, “What the fuck, Dean?” Sam wanted to know looking at him accusatory with an arm around Cas.

It wasn’t me, Dean wanted to say, but instead he just stood gaping at the scene.

“Come on!” Gordon proclaimed and yanked Dean with him by his shoulder.

Benny and Victor had worried, but it appeared they hadn’t been worried enough. Whatever had happened that night with Dean and Novak it had changed Dean.

It had started small with him sitting opposite to them at their cafeteria table. Then he became harder and harder on the team to practice, but the boys agreed that it was a positive byproduct of whatever was going on inside that stubborn head of his, that he was back in the game, even though it was a bit more offensive than they were used to. At first Benny hadn’t noticed that Dean had dragged himself away from them to be with himself or Gordon, Kubrick and the weird kid Kramer more and more. He had been too caught up in a “someone else” himself, but Victor pointed it out to him, when Dean had shown up for class with faint smell of alcohol in his breath and clearly still somewhat drunk from the night before. But that was apparently only the first time of many to come.

As far as they knew, he didn’t as much as look at Castiel. They could only imagine what the boy had did to deserve that, or what Dean had done, since he thought he deserved it himself.

The detention wasn’t over yet, but as far as they knew the meetings were getting further and further apart, thanks to an arrangement Castiel had convinced the headmistress to go with, according to a not-really-caring Dean. A couple of days ago the practice had been canceled because of stormy weather. It had been pouring cats and dogs, yet Dean and Cas had been asked to tidy up in the yard; sowing new grass for the spring and tidy up in the toolshed. The rain was only good for the sowing.

Of course Dean hadn’t told them any of this, but they had heard it from bystanders to the whole thing. The guys hadn’t talked to each other or dignified the other with as much as a glance, while they both got soaked to the core, and then went into the toolshed where they apparently had spent quite a lot of time, which made for very good jokes and giggling – but none, of course, knew how it may have been more than a joke, but Vic and Ben.

When they had heard about it both Benny and Victor thought they might get the old Dean back. The good old boy who kind of liked to kiss boys, yet kind of didn’t like to admit it. The funny Dean; the nice guy, the good friend, the one who was always there for his friends if they needed him, and could talk to about anything… Well, anything but Dean’s own feelings of course.

But the hopes were all in vain. The next morning he smelled from booze again and when Benny handed him a replica of the book Dean had forgotten, he had exclaimed a repressed moan. His hands were torn, reddened and slightly swollen at the knuckles.  It gave both Victor and Benny quite a scare before they saw Castiel stroll into the classroom seemingly unharmed. Ben and Vic had looked at each other with eyes wide and a simultaneously “phew”. At least whatever had went down hadn’t fucked things even more up between Dean and Castiel, yet the boys Dean had begun to hang out with was also disappointingly unbroken to look at.

In the first break after that, they decided to take measures into their own hands and confront him.

They wanted to go to his dorm after school. Maybe a nice chat in his own environment would feel safe for him, but after searching till late in the afternoon they found him surprisingly enough in the library studying by himself.

“Dean?” Benny asked surprised by finding him like this. They had more or less went into the library by accident, because they had been everywhere else. 

Victor thought it was hilarious that the “bystander bully” had become the bully AND apparently also a good student, “What’s someone like you, doing in a place like this?” he asked flirtatiously.

Benny smiled at the joke and suspected Dean to follow up, but he didn’t. He only looked down into his book and mumbled, “I’m busy, guys”.

The two footballers looked at each other and silently agreed that he was being stupid.

Victor grabbed Dean’s book out of his hands before Dean could think to hold on to it, “Give it back!” Dean almost yelled at him.

“Shh, Dean, we are in a library,” Victor hushed him, but Benny had seen something that he could only describe as “care” but Dean Winchester, the captain of the hellhounds and ruler of procrastination, was definitely  not caring for a book.

Benny took it from Victor’s hands while Dean annoyed asked them, “What do you want?”

“Our Mutual Friend,” Benny concluded, scrolling through the sides noticing some lines marked in red, which made him raise an eyebrow at Dean, “second part? The first one wasn’t enough?”

Dean didn’t dignify them with an answer. Instead he stood up from the table and grabbed the book back from Benny, yet being careful with the old worn edition, torn up hands touching the book like it had some bigger unseen value.

Benny and Vic had both seen the touch and the hurt hands, but Victor was more straight forward than Benny wanted to be.

“What happened to your hands?” Victor demanded.

“What is it with that book?” Benny asked.

Dean looked, green blurry eyes from one boy to the other hovering over him.

“I got it from… a friend. I’m reading it for the book review in English. In other words I’m studying and you do not need to be here.”

“But why are you here in the library? Why not just read in your dorm?” Benny continued.

“Why do you have so many questions?” Dean answered beyond annoyed.

Benny sighed and was getting pretty irritated with his best friend himself. He took a stool out with more force than needed and sat down in front of the boy he could hardly recognize anymore.

He was not letting Dean off on this, yet he tried desperately to keep his voice down, “Because you have changed a very fucking lot within the last 2 months, and I am getting tired of your bullshit. Tell us what the fuck is going on!”

“Like you would even know, you are barely even there, anyway,” Dean said, eyes getting darker.

Benny got a little pale before he started reddening. Victor followed Benny down to the stool next to him, “Do you even know why, Dean? As his friend I’m glad that you have noticed Benny has been a little out of reach for the past time, but you have never asked about it. Do you even care?”

Dean’s look changed to unimpressed, directing to Victor, “Is this some kind of intervention?”

“Oh my God, Dean, you are impossible.”

Benny tried again, “Yes, this is some kind of intervention. We miss you, and we want to help you in whatever it is you are going through. You cannot seriously believe that it’s in any way good for you to hang out with Gordon?”

“But that’s it. That’s what you don’t get,” Dean answered, face hard, “they don’t judge me. Hell, they don’t even really care and that’s so much easier than walking around with my pain on my sleeve for you to be touchy-feely about. I don’t want to fucking talk about my shit.”

“But you want to drown it in liquor and wreck people for fun?” Victor asked nodding at the captains hands.

Dean looked down at his hands and swallowed once, eyes getting darker again before he whispered, “He deserved it. What do you care?”

Both Victor and Benny was shook for a moment. When they had seen Castiel completely fine, they had both kind of thought Dean had done the damage to himself or something like that, but not actually beaten someone to a pulp.

“Who deserved it, Dean?” Benny asked carefully.

“Some… No one, it doesn’t matter,” Dean said. If Benny wasn’t mistaken he was sure he saw something that looked like a combination of anger and remorse, which was two things that never did well together. No matter how hard Dean tried to be tough and pull them away, he only managed to make Ben feel sorry for him.

“Okay,” Benny accepted and stopped Victor from pushing him even more, “Fine, it’s okay.”

Dean looked at him with relieve that he had dropped the topic, and hope that it was all going to be over soon.

Dean cleared his throat and continued awkwardly, “Soooo if that’s it, I’d like to get back to my book, please.”

“Just one other thing, brother,” Benny said with a little sad sigh in the last word and looked at Victor.

Victor sighed himself, containing himself for not moving to far up with questions Dean obviously wasn’t ready to face. Benny had tried to teach him, that you had to go slow with someone like Dean; ask the easy questions to ease him into the hard ones.

“How is it going with you and Novak?”

Dean was obviously taken aback by the question in a way that made him forget how angry he was with them, “It’s fine. We’re good.”

Benny tried, “You guys friends?”

Dean reddened up again like the teenaged boy he was, “I wouldn’t say friends, but we are cool, I guess. Not really talking, so…” He trailed of and looked away from them, obviously to hide his emotions “It’s easier this way,” he stated eyes gone far away from the library.

Victor and Benny both raised an eyebrow simultaneously, a habit they had developed as of late. They had spent a little too much time together scratching their brains out about their best friend to each other, which had made them think very much alike.

Dean took a breath in, like had he just surfaced, and looked at the boys. “I’m gonna meet up with Sammy in a moment”, he tugged the small worn book up to his chest, and stood up. On his way out he raised his voice with, “See you at practice tomorrow.”

Benny and Victor weren’t quite sure of what they had just witnessed, but they were pretty sure Dean was actually not that bad:

• Dean Winchester was a better football captain than ever.
• Dean Winchester was actually studying – most likely by his own initiative.
• Dean Winchester was doing better than ever with the headmistress.
• Dean Winchester had stopped flirting with every existing cheerleader or good-looking girl he passed by.

On the very other hand:

• Dean Winchester had started drinking heavily – also on school nights.
• Dean Winchester had assumingly started to physically hurt people – but no one knows who.

Well, there were more goods than bads, but the longer they talked about it, the more they convinced each other, that the bads were weighing heavier than the goods, and most likely eventually would have a crashing impact on the goods. And in some way, they thought, the change had had to do with Castiel.

“We have to do something,” Victor said.

“We have to come up with a plan,” Benny agreed.