Author's Note: I do not own Supernatural or the characters in it. I was planning out a story that I am writing called Scarves and when planning I sort of made this yearly outline of what was going to happen. Anyway, I don't know if it's any good seeing as it's just a place for me to keep my thoughts but yeah. Comment if you enjoyed it/want to read the full version of it. Not really mature but there are some mature references.

Tags: College!AU, Dean/Cas, Some Angst, hints to Drug Use, hints to Stoner!Cas, Popular!Dean

A Sky Full of Scarves

It was spring when Cas first kissed Dean in public. The flowers were just beginning to break through the frost; the parties were getting wilder in anticipation for spring break; and Dean was dancing in a manner that Castiel deemed illegal.

Cas grinned as Dean pulled on the wool around his neck, shimmying his hips in time with the heavy music as he tried to drag Cas with him further into the midst of the dance floor.

"Dance with me, Cas," Dean slurred in his ear as he pulled Cas' body against him, hands already on Cas' hips. "I need to feel you against me."

Cas could feel Dean's fingers toying with the bottom of his shirt, rubbing the section of skin just above his waistband. Cas growled as he pressed his lips against Dean's soft neck, angry that Dean always knew which buttons to press to get his own way.

He knew no one would notice here, not with the expanse of gyrating bodies crushing against them, but he needed to feel Dean's rough lips against his; he wasn't sure he'd last the rest of the night without having to drag Dean back to his dorm otherwise.

Cas felt Dean grab a handful of his hair, pressing his lips hungrily against Cas', one hand tugging on his hair and the other pressed against his lower back, pulling his body hard against him.

Cas sighed against rough lips, knowing full well that Dean Winchester would be the ruin of him.

It was summer when Cas first told Dean he loved him. They were lying in Cas' bed, the window wide open to welcome the sounds of the bustling quad into his humid room.

Cas couldn't remember what they had been talking about, something insignificant, something minute; but right then, he'd known that he never wanted to move from Dean's arms, never wanted to have to kiss lips that didn't belong to the big Neanderthal of a man lying beside him.

The words left his lips as he lay there in his post-coital haze, staring up at the flaking ceiling with a lazy smile on his face. Who knew that he, Castiel, art nerd and college freak, would fall for Dean Winchester, captain of the baseball team and one of the most popular guys on campus.

Cas' declaration was only met with the softest of snores, and he smiled as he turned to kiss Dean on the nose, a mushy action that Dean would never have knowingly allowed.

Knowing Dean, and Cas liked to think he did know Dean pretty well by now, it was probably a good thing that he hadn't heard those words after all. He probably would have made a sharp exit and never spoken to Castiel again.

Cas wasn't about to repeat his feelings until he knew that Dean wasn't going anywhere, and this whole situation of theirs didn't really give him much security. Then again, what kind of friend with benefits falls asleep in their 'definitely not boyfriend's bed?

Cas smiled, pulling Dean's body against him and drifting off to sleep in the warm light of the afternoon.

It was autumn when Cas first began to fall again. Dean had been gone for weeks now, ignoring Cas' calls and keeping his blinds constantly drawn across his dorm windows. Even Jo hadn't properly spoken to him, simply telling him to "give up", "move on", "stop calling".

Cas couldn't stop calling. He missed Dean. He missed his excitement whenever he opened the fridge to find Cas had brought home pie, the way he would laugh whenever Cas announced his choice of scarf for even the most formal of occasions, the way Dean's voice turned gravely when he was close to coming.

The worst part was that Cas knew he was the one who had fucked it all up, the only one to blame. Just like always. Castiel Novak, majoring in fucking things up and minoring in the art of Dean Winchester.

He shoved the ashtray to one side and reached for his cell, entering Dean's number without so much as moving his eyes from the uneaten pie in the center of his table.

He just couldn't stop calling.

It was winter when Cas first bought Dean his very own scarf. It was Christmas Evening, and they sat alone by the fading fire, full to the brim of turkey and Mary's Christmas pudding.

Dean slung his arm over Cas' shoulders, yawning as he did so, and Cas placed the carefully wrapped package on Dean's lap. He blushed as Dean's eyes met his with confusion, muttering excuses and batting it off as "just a little something extra".

He hadn't expected the size of Dean's grin as he pulled out the light blue cashmere, or the way he flung it around his neck in glee. Cas chuckled fondly, and was met with a kiss as Dean grabbed Cas' own scarf and pulled him flush against his lips.

"Merry Christmas, Dean," Cas murmured softly once the kiss had been broken, forehead still pressed against Dean's as he fought to catch his breath. He wasn't sure whether it was the warmth of the fire or the fullness of his belly, but in that moment he finally felt like everything was going to be just fine.

A/N: Thank you for reading! Please comment if you enjoyed it :)