Castiel is known for his words. His long, eloquent sentences that could have easily been summarized in a few words are a part of who he is. It's the main reason he decided to go into middle school English. That also partly had to do with the fact that he hated his middle school English teacher and didn't want another generation to have to say the same. These poet phrases, however, are a brought to a hault about once each quarter, when Castiel is forced to spend thirty minutes attempting to communicate with Dean Winchester about his daughter Emma. That man just has a way of making his brilliant mind turn to complete garbage.
Dean Winchester knows he is attractive. He went through the whole cocky high school faze, but he got over it. Now it is just who he is. He doesn't care so much about it, but he doesn't hate the looks some people give him either. However the only person he really has eyes for is his Emma. She is his everything. Ever since her mom left them for a feminist group that seemed to have her convinced that Dean was abusing her as a woman, Dean hasn't been with anyone real serious. He didn't want to jeopardize his relationship with his daughter by introducing someone new into their lives. He questioned it every once and a while though. Most recently it's been when he looks into the blue eyes of her English teacher as he stumbles over his own words. No one should be that cute, it's just not right.
Castiel doesn't spend a little too long doing up his tie, trying to get it perfectly straightened. He does, however, eventually give up on this task he was not trying so feverishly at and end with it even more crooked than usual. "Great," he murmurs, his hair now deciding it does not want to work with him and sticking up in all directions. "Just great," he murmurs once more as he grabs his keys and heads out of his house, looking like he just rolled out of bed.
Dean doesn't spend an extra 15 minutes picking out clothes, and he totally doesn't go with the shirt and jeans that he knows are just a little too tight on him. He definitely doesn't look himself over 12 times in the mirror just to make sure his hair stayed in place. "Dear God I'm pathetic," Dean murmurs, glancing himself over once more. "Come on Emma, time to go visit uncle Sam while I go meet with your teachers," he calls out and she comes prancing from the living room wearing her oil-stained shirt and jeans (curtesy of her last visit with Bobby) and her combat boots.
"Sam said we can go visit Bobby and I can help with the cars again!" she says excitedly and Dean laughs, ruffling her hair.
"Alright well then let's get going so we're no late," he smiles at her. She smiles back and in two seconds is out the door and running to the car.
Emma made it to Sam's fine, and all but tackled the man to the ground when they got there. Sam took one look at Dean and instantly quirked an eyebrow at him. "So, parent-teacher conference huh?" he asked and Dean at least had the dignity to look a little ashamed. "Emma can you run inside and get Bones? He needs to be let out." Emma happily agreed and was sprinting off.
"It is a parent-teacher conference."
"Uh-huh, and which one of her teachers have you got your eye on?" Sam asked, raising an eyebrow at him.
"None. Listen, I gotta go or I'm gonna be late," Dean said, all but shaking with anticipation. Sam just rolled his eyes. Dean gave Emma one last hug and kiss before hopping into his car and driving off. He knew Sam wasn't fooled.
Dean felt a bit of regret for his outfit choice once he sat outside Mr. Novak's room. Woman had been eyeing him up since he stepped in the building, and he was pretty sure the science teacher was trying to jump him while they were supposed to be talking about Emma's science project. Mr. Novak was the last teacher Dean had to meet with, and he was feeling a little more than nervous. However, considering this was the last time he would see this man as Emma would be moving on to another teacher next year, he felt it was time to make his move.
"Emma Winchester," Mr. Novak calls out and Dean stands up. "Mr. Winchester, pleasant to see you again. Please, come in," he says, ushering Dean inside the room. He nearly grins at himself for keeping composure, but then sees how Dean is looking at him and remembers his state of dress. Right, the wardrobe fiasco. He hates his clothes.
Dean clears his throat and nods at the teacher, drinking in the "I-look-like-I-just-rolled-out-of-bed-after-a-good-lay" look he is sporting. It definitely suits him. He walks over to the chair seated across from the teacher's desk and takes a seat. Castiel makes his way around, takes a seat, and then nearly knocks over everything on his desk when he goes to reach for Emma's folder. Dean tries not to laugh but he can't deny a slight chuckle that slips. Mr. Novak flushes a deep shade of red.
"Emma has been doing a good- great- I-I mean she's been doing well in this class. Um, she does need to um, er, work on her grammar skills how-wever but um-" Castiel nearly cringes as he forgets half of what he was supposed to say. No one should be wearing clothes that tight and look that good. It is not helping his self-consciousness of his own state of dress, or his focus.
Castiel could kiss the timer as it finally starts buzzing. He has been stuttering and stammering through non-sense words for the past half hour. He stands and shakes Mr. Winchester's hand. As he pulls his hands away however he finds a slip of paper stuck to it and he raises an eyebrow, glancing up at the man in front of him. "What is this?"
"It's my phone number," Dean responds, and Castiel sees him actually look a bit sheepish for the first time of his life.
"Doesn't the school already have your contact information?" he asks, not quite understanding why Dean felt the need to give him his number.
"Yes, but you don't," Dean responds, winking. "I was wondering if you wanted to go out to dinner sometime." Dean squeaks out, feeling the words catch in his throat. The tension lessens slightly as a bright blush breaks out on Castiel's face with a small smile.
"Erm, yes. That would be lovely," he says and Dean grins.
"Awesome! Just text me when you're not busy and I'll see you then Mr. Novak," Dean grins, turning to leave the room.
"I think you can call me Castiel now," Mr. Novak says and Dean sends him a wolfish grin before winking.
"Now where's the fun in that?"
