Dean rolled his eyes, propping his feet up on the empty desk across from him, hunkering down in his chair and closing his eyes. Mr. Drones had been lecturing on and on about Romeo and Juliet and damn if Dean didn't just want to sleep. It was first period, on a Monday no less. It was about forty minutes into the class and Dean had been late today because Mary had wanted to meet him in the football field. They'd had a very, uh, nice time together. He smiled to himself and was just about to drift off when Mr. Drones called his name.
"Mr. Winchester!"
"Yessir?" Dean asked as he lay his head back on the edge of the chair, gazing at his teacher through half mast eye lids.
"There's going to be a test on this, next Thursday- sit up and pay attention," the teacher demanded. Dean grumbled something under his breath and Mr. Drones looked over sharply.
"What was that?"
"If you were meant to hear it, you would have," Dean replied. The teacher narrowed his eyes but before he could respond, the door was pulled open and a boy, who looked to be about Dean's age, shuffled in. Messy, dark hair fell in the boys brilliant blue eyes. He had on a loose sweater vest and light jeans and his cheeks were pink, as if he were embarassed. Dean chuckled at the shy boy, but his curiousity outruled his need to sleep.
"Who are you?" Mr. Drones asked kindly.
"My name is Castiel," the boy mumbled, eyes on the floor.
"Castiel Novak?" the teacher asked. The boy nodded.
"Alright. I heard you'd be transfering today. You're supposed to be in the Junior class, correct?" Again, the boy nodded. "Alright. Why don't you go take the seat next to Mr. Winchester." Mr. Drones smirked as he pointed to the seat Dean had his feet on. Dean sighed and dropped his steel-toed boots heavily to the ground. Castiel quickly and quietly made his way to the desk. Dean watched him curiously as he walked back. God, this boy was attractive. His eyes were piercing. He was tall with a slim, muscular body, one that looked like a swimmers, elegant yet powerful. Dean noticed the freckles splashed across his nose as he pushed his black glasses up wtih a finger, holding his books to his chest as he sat. Dean watched him for a moment, and then shifted, tugging his leather jacket off and letting it drop to the floor, and then watching the boy as Mr. Drones started talking again. The boy, who soon noticed he was being watched, flushed and began bouncing his leg nervously. Dean chuckled.
"That's cute," he said with a smirk. The boy froze and looked over with those wide, blue eyes.
"What's cute?" he asked in that same quiet voice.
"I dunno. You. The way your bouncing your leg. How shy you are." Dean shrugged and the boy flushed an even brighter red and Dean's smile widened.
"Stop it," Castiel mumbled.
"Stop what?" he asked.
"I dunno. Looking at me."
"Stop looking at you?" Dean asked. The boy nodded and went back to whatever he was writing in his notebook. Dean chuckled and leaned closer, looking at the messy scrawl. "What's that?" he asked. Castiel quickly closed the book, glowering at it.
"Just leave me alone," he said. Dean shrugged.
"Suit yourself."
Dean went back to staring off into space, but his thoughts refused to leave the new boy.