Dean listened to the roar of his baby's engine as he drove as fast as possible toward his little brother's school. The little pest had missed the bus that morning and decided he wasn't going to walk and would not be budged until his older brother had offered to give him a lift on his way to work. As the school zone signs came into view, Dean looked at his younger brother and asked, "Do you have everything you need, Sammy? Money?"

"Yeah, Dean. I'm good. Thanks for the lift," Sam replied, offering his brother an impish yet grateful smile.

Dean turned back just in time to slam on his breaks as he realized there was a figure in his path. The Impala squealed to a stop just in time. The man—and a beautiful man at that—was facing his car, palms pressed flat to the hood as blue eyes pierced through him from above a pair of glasses. Further above those glasses was brown, ruffled hair that looked like he'd just had a good roll in the hay.

The eldest brother swallowed thickly before stepping out of his car. "Hey, man, you alright?"

The stranger rose to his full height, a match for Dean's own, and advanced on him, a hand raised and finger pointed. "This is a crosswalk. You need to pay attention to where you're going. And you're," the man glanced into the cab of the Impala, "son needs to be getting to class. It started a half hour ago."

The tone of voice wasn't loud or angry, but it carried a weight to it that was not to be ignored. Before Dean could say anything, Sam had climbed from the Impala, bag slung over his shoulder, and saluted a quick goodbye before disappearing into the building. When the older Winchester turned his attention back on—what could only be—the teacher, he found the man much closer than before, with angry blue eyes fixed on his own.

"I am not telling you how to parent, but coming here dressed like that," the man gestured up and down Dean's torso in reference to his mechanic's uniform, and if Dean weren't mistaken those blue eyes fixed on Dean's lips before finding their way back to making eye contact, "and late, I might add, is not setting a good example or a good foundation for his education!"

"Woah, dude, okay, wait. One, Sammy is my little brother not my son. Second, our dad's away a lot and usually can't be bothered to make sure Sammy's eaten, let alone gotten to school. Third, I'm on my way to my job, to help pay for bills because of said mostly-absent dad." Dean raised an eyebrow at the man and dared him to say anything.

For a moment—or it could have been an eternity, Dean wasn't sure with those blue eyes—the man just stared at him, and Dean was only pulled out of his study of the different shades of blue in this teacher's eyes by said teacher drawing in a ragged breath and leaning back. Suddenly, Dean could breath and think clearly again. He hadn't realized they were so close. He put on his default cocky face and asked, "And what are you doing out here, teach'?"

"My name is Mr. Novak. Castiel Novak, and, if you must know, my tire blew when I pulled in this morning and I have a free period, first thing in the morning. So after getting my lesson ready for the day, I decided to come change it," the man—Castiel—paused and pursed his lips as those electric eyes trailed the length of Dean's body again, "but I could use some help if you can spare a moment."

–

Dean later found out that Cas was no slouch when it came to fixing cars. He had both the know-how and the strength to do it. But, Dean still didn't mind having taken the time to help, especially when Cas ran frantically around their home, his shirt half-buttoned, collar bones on clear display, a suit jacket half pulled on, and one shoe on and the other in his hand.

The older man smiled and picked up the glasses from the end table where the teacher had left them night before and grabbed Cas' wrist. The man turned to face him and he slid the glasses into place over the incredible blue eyes that hadn't lost their intensity or Dean's fascination. The mechanic calmly reached down and deftly buttoned up the rest of the shirt.

Their eyes met by the time Dean had reached the collar of the shirt. Cas was looking at him with a depth of love in his expression that-while he still had a hard time grasping it—Dean fully returned to the younger man. This teacher had destroyed Dean's walls in less that 24 hours of meeting him, but in turn, he learned Cas in ways he had never expected to know another human being.

Dean couldn't help when his eyes flickered down to Castiel's lips, and it didn't take much to lean forward and close the gap between the two in what must be their thousandth kiss, and it was still special in it's own way. It broke when the sound of a dull thud right next to them startled Cas and he hissed out, "I'm going to be late!"

The man bent to retrieve his other shoe and put it on before sliding the suit jacket on completely. While Cas was doing this, Dean moved to grab the keys to the Impala and swung them around his finger as he slid his own shoes on. "I'll drive ya', Cas."

Cas looked up sharply, above his glasses like he had many years before, and had many times since. A sweet smile stole Castiel's face and lit up his starlight eyes. "As long as you don't run anyone over."

Dean laughed as he walked out the door and threw over his shoulder, "Well, I promise I won't take them home!"