A/N: Hi :-) Band kid Destiel fic, hot damn. This is rather short chaptered, do bear with me. The basis of this fic is inspired by the actions of a friend and I, so I'll make sure to tell fact from fiction for you. And fair warning, this is written in American English, so when I say 'quite' I mean very, not a little. One last thing, I apologize in advance to any trumpet players out there. Have fun ~

Castiel sighed to himself.

How could he gave forgotten his clarinet?

He's had band class on A days for three years, and has been playing the damned thing for seven. But whatever. His teacher was very easy-going, and probably wouldn't mind.

He huffed in his seat as the teacher began calling out attendance.

"Novak, Gabriel." The teacher called as he looked up in the rows. "Bright-eyed and bushy tailed as always, I see?" Gabriel rolled his eyes and Castiel giggled. Gabriel was hardly 'bright-eyed and bushy tailed'. Unlike Cas, Gabriel hated music and was only in the class this semester because the county required a fine arts credit for graduation, and there was no way Gabriel would end up in Pottery with crazy Ms. Harvelle.

"Cas?" The teacher addressed him much more informally than he had his brother, as the two were much more familiar. "No instrument today?"

"No, I'm sorry Mr. Crowley." Castiel replied, starting intently at the floor.

"That's quite alright. Just not exactly what I'd expect out of my first chair. Mind sitting in the back today?"

Cas muttered an unhappy "No." And moved his belongings to a chair in the last row, one with a very vandalized and dilapidated stand. Cas drowned out the rest of attendance, until the very end when a sandy-haired boy sat next to him. Cas recognized him immediately as one of the cocky, obnoxious trumpet players that gave the whole brass section a bad reputation. Cas thought he was somewhere around fourth chair, and Mr. Crowley always addressed him by just his last name, Winchester.

"Hey Cas." The green-eyed boy smiled at Cas.

'Shit.' Cas thought. 'What's his name? Don? Dan? Dean? DEAN. HIS NAME IS DEAN.'

"Hi Dean." Castiel smiled back.

Dean chucked and bit his lip, a small act Cas couldn't help but notice. "I didn't know first chair woodwind players knew how to forget their instruments." Dean teased, poking fun at the wiry boy who sat beside him.

"Well, I guess we all have our days." Castiel replied, keeping a dignified stature.

After a moment of listening to the ensemble practice their D tetra chords, Dean licked his lips and chucked. "Hey Cas, aren't woodwinds supposed to be really dorky? Because, not gonna lie, you're like fuck hot."

Castiel had been surprised, because no one had ever made any sort of pass at him before. But he wanted to remain confident.

"Hey Dean, aren't trumpet players supposed to be douches? Because you're kind of flattering me."
"We are douches." Dean said with a wink.

Although the evident self-loathing that was being portrayed was rather humorous to the juvenile musician, Castiel had his thoughts firmly placed on his newfound companion's previous comment. The one that tagged him as 'fuck hot'. Cas was known to have, as some crudely put it, sex hair. But he was fairly certain that that particular trait was not what Dean was referring to. Or was too specific, rather. Castiel believed this meant that Dean found him to be quite attractive. Dean himself was rather easy on the eyes, with killer green eyes and messy blond hair, so if Dean was attracted to Cas, that would be okay with him.

The two wanted to avoid as much chastisement as possible, so only spoke briefly between sets and numbers, mainly commenting on the ensembles tenation, or lack-there-of, really.

When the bell rang, Cas began heading for the door, only to be stopped by Dean.

"Hey you," Dean said, playfully, pulling lightly at Castiel's shoulder to have them facing each other. "It was good talking, today. Maybe this won't be the last time?"

Castiel smiled for the final time that class period. "I would hope not."

A/N: like I said, short chaptered. This is more of an 'I had an idea and now it's on paper' sort of thing. Anyway,
Fact: Jess and I became friends because we both forgot out instruments one class. I am fuck hot. I also have sex hair.
Fiction: We actually both play violin, and she didn't tell me I was fuck hot. Yet.