Born To Be Wild

You hear the word 'College' and you think, parties, drinking, red cups, frat parties (worst kind), naked girls, naked men, yourself naked, cool room to share with cool people, studying and doing good.

But, Dean got 'parties' ( accent on the apostrophes for one does not simply consider a room full of already drunk people asleep a party), 'drinking' (for drinking a beer while eating cold leftover pizza while watching Doctor sexy isn't 'drinking'), red cups ( in the bathroom, in the halls filled with the piss of one very, very drunk Ash), frat parties (once and no more! Too many confused about their sexuality naked men, willing to lead you on to an empty room and start talking about the tits on Ruby), naked girls (in the hippie part of the building. Let's just say Chewbacca just met his rival.), naked men ( Ash and Chuck with their dangling balls don't consider), yourself naked (in the company of Ash and Chuck= doesn't consider), room with people, no sharing about it, and no cool about (question mark on the 'people', as Ash and Chuck consider more for apes), 'studying' (for going to take exams on classes you weren't aware you were enrolled with is mildly considered studying) and well, doing good.

Because for all of his expectations being crushed there was one thing nobody informed him about, not his parents, not those teachers in high school.

The glory of Marijuana (capital M, for the respect it deserves).

Because, seriously if it weren't for the Mary Jane, Dean really doesn't know where he would be right now.

Probably dropped off, started hustling pool and ending up behind a dumpster with a needle in his fore arm.

Praised be the hashish!

They tell you all these stories, about people losing their families to marijuana ( like seriously? what, did you come home one night, stoned, asked for a burger and got disowned?), doing bad in school ( seriously, parents will find any excuse to say it's not their fault their kid is fucking up), that marijuana is a gateway drug ( to what? the nearest Taco Bell?).

But, to be frank, if it weren't the marijuana Dean wouldn't know love.

So, here it goes.

-/-

"Seriously, where is he? The pizza came, and we haven't even got our munchies on!" –Chuck stressed the words with shaking hands and wide eyes.

The squirrely dude could be pretty scary when he wanted. Scary in a dark alley, junkie kind of way. He had the whole scruffy beard, constantly blood shot eyes ( typing away at the laptop), 90's grunge sweaters and ratty jeans.

When Dean first laid eyes on him he felt a peak in his interests. He had a thing for the raw male kind of guys, not the kind in tight, polo shirts with the popped collar, jersey shore wannabes that their main pick-up line was what gym did he go to.

But, then he got to meet the guy, twitchy, nervous breakdown waiting to happen, obsessive personality, clingy, and, just, really the glasses and ruffled hair really weren't worth it. Plus, he was his roommate, and that's a bad idea all on it's own.

"Shut the fuck up will you! How can you be so stressed when listening to Bob Marley?" –Gabriel had a point. Really, there wasn't anything more relaxing than listening to 'Buffalo Soldier'. Sure it was a cliché, but there is a special ceremony that one must go through before smoking the holy green weed.

"Because, he was supposed to be here two hours ago! What if the cops got him! I saw some this morning, they were walking through the park, and they saw me, they made eye contact! They know! Fuck, shit, balls! They know! They are looking for me, shit, I should have never slept with that Asian prostitute!" –And while Chuck did make a second good point, the last bit left the room in complete silence, even the record twitched.

And then erupted in guffaws of laughter.

Trust Chuck to make an anxiety attack look funny.

"Dibs on the record, I'm changin' music!"- Dean called through the softening laughter of the dim lit room as he walked towards the record player sliding in 'Born to be wild'. He nodded in approval as the rock boomed through the room.

"Dude, chill, like, no use smoking weed if you're this stressed out. Try Xanax."-Ash spoke to Chuck offering an arm around his shoulder in a drunken slump.

"He said he will be here, and if anything, Cas is a man of his word. So, just, keep calm! Dean-o over there should be your example." –Gabriel said with a smirk and pointed towards where Dean was sipping out of his beer flicking through the record collection.

He turned towards the sudden attention, as the whole room had eyes set on him. With a sheepish grin he gulped down the beer and gave a thumbs up.

He really wasn't one to stress over things, especially stressing over a substance that makes you relax, that's a total paradox right there.

"Yeah, but, dude, seriously if he's not here in five minutes I'm calling my own dealer." – Andy said with a sigh of exasperation.

"Poppycock. The last time we waited for your dealer we waited five hours, and we ended up with tobacco sprinkled with oregano. Better luck next time, mate." –Balthazar said with an exaggerate eye roll.

"Poppycock?" –Dean couldn't help himself.

"British slang for 'bullshit'. Far less obscene than your butchered version of the English language." –Crowley said with a self-satisfactory smirk, because he was oh-so-smart and oh-so-proper in that out of place looking suit.

"Who the fuck even invited you here, Crowley?" – Jo asked with a hint of exasperation in her voice. Even though Jo was the only girl in the room she didn't mind. She was just, that girl, that hung out with mostly guys. Not that Dean minded, hell, he welcomed it. Jo was brash and outspoken, said what she meant and vice versa. She was a strong character which was basically the reason she rarely had a boyfriend.

Because she had seen so much of the guys and their behavior so when she got one warning sign she let the whole thing drop off. Like, she was traumatized by all the guys.

Dean wouldn't blame her.

"Cassie is our dealer, so by default we go where the grass goes." –Balthazar explained with a pointed eyebrow.

"Everybody, chill the fuck out! The amount of tension in this room is too damn high!" –Gabriel stood up and yelled with arms wide opened.

But, this theatrics were stopped short as the door opened with a bang and there stood a very disheveled and rumpled man he'd never seen before in his life.

"Cassie, love, finally!" –Balthazar was the first to stand up and greet the man, taking him in a hug and kissing his cheeks three times, an obvious show of 'we are British, you just don't understand'. The guy returned the kisses in a hurry, his breath heaving as if he were in a rush to get here.

"Alright, mate?" –Crowley was next with the kisses, and yes, they probably never greeted each other like this. Balthazar, though, probably did, he seemed like the kind of guy...

"Alright." –Cas surprised Dean with that deep, gravel of a voice, his tone tired.

"What took you so long, bro?"- Gabriel didn't bother to stand up to greet his brother who finally stepped inside and bent over to give Gabriel a quick hug.

"Came to get the weed, Lucifer and Meg saw me, started following me, said something about not in his territory, that I'm ruining business, I don't know, but, I'm back now. And I have the weed. I apologize for the wait." –Cas said in a ramble of words, inhaling a big gush of breath as he finished.

The room fell silent with guilt.

"Sorry for the trouble, dude." –Andy was the first one to offer to comfort. Andy had the most experience with weed and dealership and it was a miracle that such an innocent thing can get so ugly when handed to the wrong people. Lucifer was one of those people.

He had this God-of-weed-complex like, nobody else is allowed to sell weed, and they should only buy it from him. But, Lucifer even though was quick, he was unsafe, everyone knew he sprayed the weed and dealt serious drugs.

All in all he wasn't the guy you wanted to mess with.

So, kudos to this guy for handling him and bringing weed.

"Wasn't trouble at all. I handled it quite sufficiently." –Cas said with a modest half shrug and offered his hand to Andy.

"I told you guys Cassie wouldn't mess up!" –Gabriel chirped up happily.

Dean watched the situation from his position besides the record player cataloging everything.

Finally, it was his turn to meet the guy.

The man finally caught sight of Dean, and with a surprised expression walked to the corner of the room away from where everyone was huddled in a circle, gushing over the green contents of the bag.

Dean finally got a good look at what he was wearing, a 'Jefferson Airplane' t-shirt in vivid psychedelic colors, ratty jeans, scraped at the knee, and an out of place trench-coat.

"Castiel." –The guy said as he offered his hand to Dean.

And, just, wow, let's take a second here to look at that face.

Scruffy beard - check, bed-hair - check, plush, soft lips – check, motherfucking acid blue eyes – not on the list, but quite welcomed. Check.

"Dean." –He said in response taking the offered hand in a handshake, while he fiddled with the bottle in the other.

"So, uh what's with the trench-coat?" –Dean really didn't want to let this guy go just now, so excuse him for making stupid conversation.

"The bag was too big, I thought it would be inconspicuous this way." –Castiel said with that half shrug again.

"So, you decided to dress like a flasher?" –Dean could blame the beer for making that awful joke.

"Alright." –Castiel said with a curt nod, translating Dean's joke as an insult and briskly walking away towards the little circle sitting himself between Balthazar and Gabriel.

'Fuck me' –Dean thought, and he'd right about slap himself for being an ass.

No matter, he could make things right. Dude was interesting.

He quickly grabbed a beer and walked towards the huddled group, making himself a place between Balthazar and Castiel, tight enough to touch Castiel's knee with his own.

"Peace offering?" –He said with a grin at the suspicious look he was given as he sat himself down, offering the bottle to him.

"Alright." –Castiel said with a small smile that made Dean feel like 'yes! I won!'.

They sipped in quiet Dean giving the occasional took to Castiel watching his throat work the bitter liquid, while the others were fussing over rolling the joint.

'You're doing it wrong!'

'I've been doing this since before you were born, Gabe.'

'Does that make you an old man?'

'It makes me a professional.'

"I like your shirt." –Dean said with a gesture towards Castiel's chest. Yes, Dean was really out of his game tonight. Pray his smile saves him.

"You like 'Jefferson Airplane'?" –Castiel said with a small spark in his eyes.

'I like how it looks on you.'

"I like 'White rabbit'. But, to be honest, I've only heard them while sharing a joint, 'White rabbit's the only one I can remember." –Dean said honestly with a sheepish chuckle.

"It's alright. I like your shirt too." –Dean was relieved to hear Castiel chuckle at his confession, and yeah, guy should seriously smile more, made his whole face light up.

"You like AC/DC? " –Dean said with a mock disbelieving look.

"Well, to be honest I only remember 'Shook me all night long' and that's just because it played while I was in bed with... Sorry, beer always get's me." –Castiel said with an embarrassed chuckle, his whole face burning with discomfort.

"Nah, it's alright... Look, thanks for bringing the weed, man, going through all that trouble..." -Dean quickly changed the conversation to keep Castiel away from discomfort. Dean really didn't mind, hell, it was a good song to get it on with, wonder why he never thought of it...

"Like I said before, it isn't, wasn't." –Castiel said with a slight incline of his head, what Dean noted as a 'thank you' in his smile.

Lost in their conversation they haven't noticed the joint already being lit, passed from one person to another, until Balthazar took one deep drag and bumped Dean's shoulder to take it from him.

With a jolt Dean turned towards Balthazar and saw the lit cigarette, taking it with nimble fingers, careful not to disturb the delicate craft of the joint.

Just as he was about to take a puff he looked over to Castiel and made a decision.

"You wanna shotgun?" –He asked with a bit of uncertainty.

Castiel blushed once more, though a shy smile spread his lips.

"I would."

So, I know I've started all these stories, and I wanted to update Wildcat like Friday, but then the episode aired, and I was so devastated I couldn't do it. I mean, we've been waiting since September to get Cas back and this is what they give us. A fucking fanfiction written by a 13 year old. I don't know, everything was so off, everyone was so OOC, and the ending was just like, whoops we don't have any air time let's just end this episode for which everyone kept watching the show for with putting Cas in an insane asylum. Great idea, yeah. I don't know, I usually try and have faith in the writers ( not go apeshit crazy about how 'someone' is ruining it), but I'm tired of having faith.

So, this is what you get! Stoned writing! Probably one more long chapter after this and I'm wrapping it up. Gonna have a lot of stoned-stoners having thathigh moments, so thumbs up!

If you'd like to review please do so, means a lot and gives great motivation.

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