**Author's Note: _

Oh my! Another omega/alpha fic!
LORD HELP ME.

This one's a little weirder than my usual though, and Dean's kind of stuck up in this- but FOR A REASON GUYS.

If you know me, you probably already know what's gonna happen. ... shut up.

ENJOY!~

Dean Winchester, an alpha, is probably one of the most well known and most swooned over person in Wilson High- a star football player, but not a star student. Dean usually focused on his social life, not caring for his grades as they slipped by just like his chances of passing if he actually took the time to pay attention. It was his senior year now, and he was planning on having a great time instead of focusing on the actual purpose of high school. Sure, all of his teachers glared whenever he first walked into their rooms- but whatever, it didn't matter. Dean could charm them to his liking eventually. It wasn't until he got to Singer's room that his plans to woo the teacher till he was under his thumb was abruptly stopped.

"Winchester-" he called, seconds after the bell rang, "I'd like to see you."

Dean rolls his eyes to where Mr. Singer doesn't see them, but struts up to him, "Yes?"

"I heard about you, kid… Seems like you have a knack for avoiding work."

"I've been known to…" Dean puts on a smirk, "slack."

Mr. Singer raises a brow, his mouth set in a firm line, "If that's meant to impress me, than I think you may be aiming at the wrong teacher. I'm not going to let you slide in my class."

The alpha furrows his brow, "Slide?"

"Not even a fraction, son. I'm only going to make you do one thing- and even then I'll believe it's a miracle if you complete that."

"What is it?"

Mr. Singer smiles, handing him a piece of paper, "An essay, one due at the end of your senior year."

Dean looks over the sheet, head wrenching back in disgust, "Really, Mr. Singer?"

"Yes." He grunts, "You haven't done a damn thing in your whole high school career- not a damn thing. The worse I'm making you do is write an essay on something you actually care about. Before you get all smart alec on it- there's regulations to your topic of course- because I don't want to spend my time reading a paper on sex and beer my last days before my vacation."

The alpha reads the fine print, noticing all the specific do's and don'ts, and it only angers him more, "But Mr. Singer, I can't do this! I have football-"

"And an essay to write. There's no way around this, Winchester. You're gonna make something out of yourself before you leave my class by May and I don't want to hear a bit of lip. Worse comes to worse I'll assign someone to help you write it- considering I'm sure you'll vere off topic at any opening. They'll only be there to proof read it and to make sure you're following my directions- so don't get any bright ideas, you idjit."

Dean glares for only a second, "Fine… assign me someone."

Mr. Singer gives a fake smile, "Alright- Castiel Novak."

"Really? Some… kid?"

"He's doing better than you, so I don't think you have the right to go label him as nothing more than a 'kid'."

Dean tightens a fist behind his back where Mr. Singer can't see, "What are they?"

The teacher laughs, "Thinking I assigned you an omega or somethin', son? You really are dumb. No- he's a beta- so there won't be any reason for you two to be knotting each other in the library than writing."

"Oh…" The alpha's anger deflates a bit, a vague amount of blush creeping up and flushing his skin.

"Oh is right-" Singer looks towards his computer, "now go. You'll start on your paper tomorrow. You'll do it during class since I know it won't do you any good- and besides, I already know that once you get out on your own there's no way in hell you're writing your paper."

Dean blinks, turns, and then walks out the door. He shoves the paper into his backpack. Dean's going to grab Sam as soon as he can and burn his tires out in the parking lot with how fast he's gonna whip out of that fucker.

This was going to be awful, but not if Dean can help it.

…

Castiel Novak is ordinary. He's got a few friends, a select group he calls them- who hang out at the tree on the furthest corner of the courtyard after and during school. He's smart- but not like some of his other friends who are in AP classes and dual enrollments. Instead, he does what he needs to and passes with flying colors. He's a beta- so his label of normal coincides with his gender, but he's okay with that.

He's walking with his brother Gabriel, their hands in their pockets as they walk from the main building to their car. His senior year was okay- the only unusual thing being he was going to have to help some alpha write his paper.

"So- how's your schedule?" Gabe asks, playing with the keys inside of his jacket.

"Alright… Though my period with Singer's become something I haven't expected."

Gabriel tilts his head, "Uhh- how so?"

"Peer tutoring." Castiel sighs, "I have to help Dean Winchester with some special essay instead of an actual class this year."

"Won't that affect your grade, though?"

The beta shakes his head, "Already asked him that- he said I worked hard enough so far that he'll let me take it easy this year. That's fine with me though."

Gabe chuckles, "I would be too."

As soon as they reach their car, their heads shoot up to the sound of screeching rubber. There's a black Chevrolet Impala, wheels spinning against the asphalt and spurring up smoke as the driver guns it out of there. The car whips around the corner, nearly hitting Gabriel and Castiel.

"Hey, watch it asshole!" Castiel yells after the black blur passes, flipping off whoever was driving the car, then looks over to his brother, "You okay? Did that bastard hit you?"

"No. What about you?" going by his tone and death glare at the tail lights he isn't too happy either.

Castiel sighs, "I'm fine…"

The beta gets in the car, following his brother. Gabriel's an omega, also a senior, and probably one of the very few things Castiel cares about in this world. His older brothers Michael and Lucifer are gone and at college, no longer major roles in his life- and had been un-labeled as such for some years now. Within their absences, Gabriel had become Castiel's rock- his anchor. In doing so the beta empowered him with all of his trust and watched over him as though he were the baby brother.

"Can you believe some assholes? I mean- honestly…" Gabe scoffs, turning the key in the ignition and continuing, "He'll be an organ donor soon enough."

"Agreed."

Castiel heads home with Gabe, sitting shotgun with the window rolled down. Their car isn't much, an old little Ford Taurus that's white and about as old as Castiel's little sister, Anna- who's about to turn ten next month. Either way, it works well enough and gets them where they need to go- and it's all they really ask for as the city of Stanford rolls past their windows.

It's going to be a long year.

…

Dean pushes the library doors aside, it's his first day of writing his paper an he's entering the library to face it and the person who's supposed to be helping him- Castiel Novak. He's heard the name a few times before, knows he's just a small little person who will probably prided himself on his calculus score rather than on the number of girls he's gotten with. He watches as faces turn his way as he goes to meet the person who's going to help him.

"You must be Dean Winchester." A deep baritone says at one of the computers.

Dean jumps a little, looking over and seeing who must have spoken to him. He's muscular, not as much as Dean is but pretty close in a leaner way, and he's eyeing him with the bluest irises the alpha's ever seen in his life. His tee has some design on it and he's wearing jeans that hang on his hip bones, and Dean fake smiles and sits beside him.

"I am. You're Castiel right?" He props his feet up on the table, the beta scowling in disgust.

"Yes, no need to be putting your shoes onto the desk."

Dean snorts, "Let me just cut to the chase, how about I give you fifty bucks- you write my paper- and everything will just go on like normal. That work for you?"

The beta beside him shakes his head, "How about no?"

"Sixty then?"

"Still won't do it."

"Why not?"

Castiel rolls his eyes, "Because- I'm not going to write a paper you got yourself sentenced with. Singer already told me that if they even see me on the computer here they'll fail you."

The alpha huffs, he's starting to grow tired over this bickering, "Does that fucking matter? If he fails me it won't make a damn difference!"

"Yes it will, dumbass!" Castiel glares, "You don't pass this class you don't pass high school- that means one more year of putting off your responsibilities!"

"I'm not even supposed to be in here, I have football and I don't need this!"

People are looking their way, so in turn Castiel is dropping his voice dangerously low, "You are intellectually vacant, aren't you? Your brain goes to your knot rather than where it counts- so just shut the fuck up and type like you're supposed to."

Dean tries to think of something to say, something to retort with when his mind goes blank and his tongue grows still. The beta is glaring at him, his scent as steeled as his unwavering gaze as the alpha turns to the computer and opens up a word document. It's unusual for Dean to give in so easily with anyone- especially a beta who's now reading something beside him as Dean stares at the blinking cursor. Either way, the alpha quiets himself and decides he'll just argue later.

"What am I supposed to be writing about anyway?"

"Something you care about- within Mr. Singer's regulations, of course."

Dean scoffs, "I know that- I'm just saying, what is there to pick?"

Castiel sets his book down, rolling his eyes to himself and sighing, "Write about your car or something."

"How do I write an essay about my Impala?"

The chair Castiel is in screeches against the floor as he slams his feet down onto the tiles, "Did you say- Impala?"

"Uhh- yeah… Why?"

"Some asshole in one almost hit us the other day in the parking lot…" Castiel growls.

"That was you? You're the one who flipped me off?!"

The beta snarls, low and only loud enough so Dean can hear it and it's message, "You almost fucking ran my brother and I over! What do you expect- a fucking peace sign?!"

Dean narrows his eyes, "Yeah well- you weren't the one who had an awful day, were you?"

"I would have been because my brother or I would be in the hospital from a hit and run!"

Dean whips his head towards the computer screen, looking towards the word document as if it was the source of all of his problems- which it was, in a small way. The alpha just starts typing a random paragraph about how he cares about apple pie rather than anything else. He actually gets into it when Castiel snickers beside him.

"What?" Dean grimaces, turning away from the screen just as he hits his writing vibe.

"Out of all the things in the world to write about you choose pie."

"Is there something wrong with that?"

Castiel shakes his head, still smirking, "No- but there is when it comes to your paper."

There's a loud groan from Dean, his forehead connecting with the table, "And what is that, exactly?"

"Singer said nothing related to food- and he even wrote pie on here. Guess he knows you better than I originally thought."

"He doesn't know me." Dean snaps his head up, voice stern and a few octaves lower than it usually is, "No one here really does."

"The troubles of popularity."

The alpha leans back a little, "You think I'm joking or something- aren't you?"

Castiel just leans back in his chair, closing his eyes, "Most of the time, you are. Jokes are really just your excuses to go off and have a good time fucking around instead of actually doing what you're supposed to. You have all these friends, you got the highest rank and skill on the football team here at Wilson, everyone swoons over you, you're probably the star-kid in the house, and you're telling me you have hardship? Kind of hard to believe, don't you think?"

"Fuck you!" Dean spat, "Just because I do something doesn't mean everything's okay back home, or in my life out of school- doesn't fucking mean you can rationalize my actions for nothing more than a public stunt of prowess! I may have all those things, but that doesn't mean I got the best of both fucking worlds, or that I actually enjoy this bullshit- so save your twisted-reality based opinions to yourself!"

Castiel stares at the alpha, eyes watching as he just erases all of the document and closes his eyes to himself. It's true, really. No one really knows what goes on behind the closed doors of the Winchester household. That John actually takes pride in his youngest more so than Dean. That John prefers Sammy over him constantly. It's the reason they live here instead of Lawrence, Kansas- because Sammy wanted to go to Stanford in California rather than some local college. It frustrates Dean beyond belief.

So maybe that's why he slacks off in school, maybe that's why he's got so many friends and he's the pinnacle of the Wilson football team- because here is the only place he ever felt like he mattered, that anyone even looked at him with pride or saw any worth in him. Sure, you can say it's foolish to waste away years of high school for a joyride rather than a diploma, but Dean can assure you that it's just the same. Because maybe if he fails, maybe if he draws the spotlight on himself- even if it's negative, his father will actually look at him for once while he's in his own damn home.

"I didn't mean it like that…"

"Of course you didn't... Just save the apology because it isn't wanted."

The beta remains silent beside Dean for the rest of the period. There's no more arguments, there's no more looks. It's as if the two are strangers and they don't even know the other is beside them. Castiel reads, Dean writes- or he tries to, at least. With the upbringing of his imperfect home life, the words no longer flow from his fingertips to the keys. The alpha just sits and stares at the white paper, hoping that if he looks at it long enough he'll either find inspiration or the paper will write itself.

When the bell rings, Dean is out of there in a flash. He grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder, walking over to the double doors and not looking back at the beta that's just behind him.

This paper was going to be a fucking nightmare.

…

Castiel opens up his phone, eyeing a text from his brother, "How's the tutoring going?"

"Shoot me now."

"That bad?"

The beta scoffs as he replies, "That bad. He's an arrogant son of a bitch- turns out he's also the one who nearly ran us over the other day."

"I'll shoot him instead."

Castiel laughs, "No, it's fine. I think karma will get him back anyways… Did you get your birth suppressants yet?"

"No, they're at the pharmacy currently- we're going to pick them up after school."

"Okay good- I just don't want you breaking out into a heat in the middle of school without any back-ups or something. And while we're there we need to get some headache pills- this alpha's driving me fucking crazy."

"You mean Dean?"

The beta rubs his forehead as he replies, "Yeah… He's just a little stressful, you know? Plus, some alpha chick was wearing this awful perfume and it makes me sneeze and want to strangle her."

"Oh- Meg Masters, yeah, I smelled her today. It's a special perfume formulated to make my gender quiver with sexual lust- honestly makes her smell like horseshit."

Castiel laughs, "It does. See you in fifteen, gotta check in with Singer."

"See you then, baby bro."

Castiel enters Mr. Singer's room, knocking on the open door with the rap of his knuckle. The english teacher looks up from his desk, smiling at the sight of the beta and setting down his papers and reading glasses.

"Ah- Castiel. How was your first writing session with Winchester?"

He rubs his neck, "A little… fiery."

"I believed you two would clash. Look, I know he's a stubborn git, that he thinks his knot is going to please everyone instead of his brains- but I know that he's got some potential in him. If he gets over his personality hurdle and focuses on the right stuff, I believe some good can come of him. It also may be with you two's relationship as well, a little work and I'm sure it'll be good in the end."

"Thanks Mr. Singer," Castiel smiled slightly, "I just wanted to let you know how it went."

Castiel walks to the parking lot, meeting up with his brother and getting into the car. They roll up to the pharmacy, Gabe parking the Taurus and they walk in together. The beta waits as Gabriel gets his suppressants, looking through the headache medication when a person walks up to him.

"You seem a little lost."

"Lost?"

Going by the scent pouring off of him it's obvious he's an alpha, "You're out of place… Maybe my room will be a better place for you."

Castiel rolls his eyes and looks back at the pills, "Not interested. If you need someone to take your knot, then you need to learn a beta scent from an omega's and to go somewhere else."

Suddenly Castiel's back is to the line of pill bottles on the shelves, the medication rattling as the alpha growls into his neck, "You should come with me, because I'm positive your scent is exactly."

"Hey asshole!" Gabriel is standing there with his hands on his hips, "Get off my brother or you'll be wishing that you'll be able to fucking walk again when I'm done with you."

The alpha growls, the grip he has on Castiel's shirt tightening on him. Castiel's breath quickens and next thing he knows he's shoving the alpha off of him. He and Gabriel just run out of the store after that, jumping into the car as the alpha runs after their car.

"I swear to God- we're surrounded by assholes!"

"I was just trying to buy some damn headache pills and I get fucking frisked…" Castiel huffs.

Gabe tilts his head while driving, "Uhh- why in the hell did he come onto you? I thought alphas avoided betas…"

The car rolls down the road as Castiel replies, "I have no clue… I guess he was in a rutting heat or something- you know- want to fuck anything and everything mode?"

Gabriel just nods.

Castiel doesn't tell Gabe about the alphas comment on his scent- or that Castiel still has that on-the-verge headache. He just sits in the car and awaits to go home.

Because if he's honest with himself, it's been a shit and confusing day for him completely.