Castiel Novak disliked Fridays. Everyone at school was far too loud in their excitement for the weekend; milling around in noisy droves, discussing their plans for the next few days before Monday, and girls telling each other what they'd be wearing for whatever they were planning. It was repetitive, dull, and downright annoying to have to listen to.

He shoved books around in his locker, trying to find the one he needed for his next class. It was ridiculous how easy it was to lose something in such a small space. His brother, Gabriel, stood nearby with his back against the lockers, eating toffees and somehow managing to whistle the world's most annoying tune through it while he watched people passing them by. Right now Castiel didn't have the tolerance to even wonder how he did that.

"Have you moved it?" He asked, fixing Gabriel with a stern glare.

"Why would I do that, little bro?" Gabriel asked innocently, but his smirk gave him away.

"Because you love to torment me," Castiel sighed, wondering whether it was worth pleading or if he should just make do without the book until Gabriel got bored of hiding it. "Please can I have it back?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," Gabriel chuckled.

Fine, a waiting game it was then. If he didn't mention it again Gabriel would probably just dump it back in his locker after a day or two.

"Hey, nerd!" A voice behind him called. Castiel turned just in time to see Dean Winchester's outstretched arm shove him sideways into his open locker door. He landed against it awkwardly and felt a pain shoot through his arm and shoulder.

"Watch it, Winchester!" Gabriel yelled. Dean only glanced back and sent them a wink and a small wave, his usual shit-eating grin spread across his face. Gabriel frowned at the back of Dean's quickly retreating head and muttered, "Asshole."

"He's your friend," Castiel grumbled, rubbing his shoulder where he'd caught it on the door. Dean had never really bullied him, but he'd always been a little over rough; pushing him around or calling him dumb names and mocking him whenever he got the chance, but never for anything too serious.

"You expect nice people to be friends with me?" Gabriel laughed. Gabriel was a year older than Castiel and Dean, but he was a troublemaker in school and when his grades had fallen so low that he had ended up being held back for his last year, he'd found himself in many of Castiel's classes, to Castiel's utter displeasure. He wasn't exactly a favourite among the popular kids, but that had more to do with him not wanting to be popular than anything else. He could have been popular if he wanted – he was funny, witty, and had all the social skills that Castiel would never have, but he just didn't like many people.

"Not really," he admitted with a grimace. He glanced back up the corridor to where Dean was talking with a cheerleader, Lisa Braeden, and felt his stomach tighten unpleasantly when Dean smiled and lifted a hand to tuck a loose lock of Lisa's dark hair behind her ear. Dean was probably trying to get her to sleep with him, Castiel remarked silently to himself, and from the way she was giggling shyly and smiling back at him it looked like he wouldn't have much trouble with that. Not that Dean ever did have much trouble getting whoever he wanted. He turned away from the sight of them and slammed his locker door shut, glaring when he noticed Gabriel grinning at him like he knew something. "Do you find this humorous?"

"Course not," Gabriel chuckled. "Want me to take away his tormenting privileges for a week for that shoulder?"

"I'll be fine," he assured his brother. It wasn't that bad. It wouldn't have hurt him at all if he hadn't landed against his locker door at such an awkward angle. "Is it common practice for friends to give privileges to each other to torment their younger siblings?"

"Oh relax. He's just pulling pigtails."

"But I don't have any pigtails," Castiel said, furrowing his brow in confusion.

"No, that's not what I…" Gabriel sighed and gave up, letting his amused grin stretch even wider across his face. "Anyway, you don't need me to look after you. You're a big boy now, aren't you?"

"I don't appreciate your condescending tone, Gabriel," Castiel retorted. He was a lot stronger than he looked. If anyone had ever really tried to hurt him he'd be perfectly capable of standing up for himself and he was already taller than Gabriel, but that hardly counted since most people their age were at least a little bit taller than Gabriel.

"And I don't appreciate my baby brother walking around with hair that looks like he got dragged through a hedge backwards, but short of shaving it all off there's not really a lot we can do about that," Gabriel said, snickering when Castiel raised a hand and tried unsuccessfully to flatten the unruly mop of dark hair on his head, muttering that he wasn't a baby, but then Gabriel's face suddenly grew serious. "He's never actually hurt you though, has he?"

"No," he confessed, quickly giving up on his hair. "He's just an irritation."

"Well then," Gabriel's smile jumped straight back into place. "Hey, you irritate me, I irritate him, he irritates you – we make it a full circle."

"He's your friend," Castiel reminded him again. "I don't see why I should have to put up with him. And for the record, you irritate me too."

Gabriel laughed appreciatively and handed Castiel the book he was looking for, which Castiel took to be an apology on both Dean's and his brother's behalf. He didn't dislike Dean – quite the opposite actually – but the teasing was a nuisance he could have lived without. Castiel found it hard enough to concentrate on his work when Dean was around, even when he was leaving him alone.

"Come on, baby bro," Gabriel joked, "numerology awaits."

"I believe they still call it mathematics. Numerology would be a very different subject," Castiel informed him seriously, but Gabriel only laughed at him. He wondered if he was being mocked again.

Math class was one that Castiel usually looked forward to. It wasn't exactly that he enjoyed it, but he did understand it. Math just came easily to him. Numbers never lied and they never changed, only the pattern changed. It was structured, ordered and much simpler to figure out so long as you understood the principal of the equation. Calculations were always easier for Castiel to understand than people were.

It was also one of the few classes the three of them took together, but his brother and Dean would sit at the back of the class and generally do nothing productive at all with their time, while Castiel would sit at the front of the class next to a girl named Charlie. They weren't friends, but they were friendly enough and she didn't disrupt his thoughts.

Dean and Gabriel must have been in a very good mood today, however, because they were louder than usual and flicking things toward the front of the class. Castiel thought they were probably aiming at him. Mr Crowley, their very British and very angry teacher, yelled himself hoarse until he reached the end of his tether and separated them.

"You, moron!" He pointed at Dean furiously. "Down here, now."

"Why me?"

"Just do it, and wipe that smirk off your face."

"He's the one who got kept behind a year," Dean pointed a thumb at Gabriel, who was making a visible effort not to burst into laughter. "Move him."

"You'll be getting kept behind, boy, if you don't stop fooling around like an idiot and pick up your grades."

Dean didn't quite manage to wipe the smirk from his face, but he did pick up his things and step down to the front of the class as he was told without another word.

"And you," he roared at Charlie, who jumped in shock and stared at Mr Crowley like he'd just pulled out a gun and pointed it right at her. "Take his seat."

"But I –"

"NOW!" He bellowed at her. Charlie jumped to her feet and moved to the back of the class. Mr Crowley didn't always have such a foul temper, but Dean and Gabriel could have that effect on people if they were in the right mood; a mischievous mood.

Castiel turned around to see Gabriel say something – probably vulgar or idiotic – to Charlie when she sat down, and Charlie offer him little more than a look of contempt in return before she busied herself with her work.

Mr Crowley didn't even bother speaking to Dean; he simply pointed to Charlie's vacated seat and glared at him until he slid behind the desk.

"You shouldn't antagonise people," Castiel said to him.

"Why not?" Dean asked, waggling his eyebrows. "It's fun."

Castiel narrowed his eyes but then thought better of continuing the conversation. He got on with his work and tried to ignore Dean while he bounced his pencil repeatedly on the table, flicking it between his fingers as he stared down in absolute bewilderment at the page in front of him. Castiel only lasted ten minutes before he just couldn't take it any longer.

"You can count, can't you?" He hissed.

"Of course I can count," Dean bit out, "I just never learnt how to count with letters like a nerd."

"It's really not that hard," he sighed. "If you would pay more attention in class instead of wasting your time so often and just –"

"Ooh, got your bossy voice on today, Cas?" Dean teased.

Castiel gave up and went back to his own work again, trying – and probably failing – not to blush at Dean's nickname for him. He knew Dean only used it to annoy him, but he'd never admit that actually he kind of liked it. It wasn't long before Dean was back to the pencil flicking and Castiel snatched it from him in frustration.

"Hey!" Dean yelled loudly, grabbing the pencil back.

"Would you girls stop bickering and shut up for five bloody minutes!" Mr Crowley growled at them. "Kids. Why did I have to work with kids?"

"It does seem a rather odd career choice for someone who –" Castiel felt Dean's elbow jab into his ribs, hidden by the table, and he quickly looked up to see Mr Crowley's red face darkening angrily. He let his sentence fall away and buried his face in his textbook.

Things calmed down again and Castiel glanced at Dean's page where his answers were all clearly made up and he'd started doodling on the corner of his page. Castiel sighed loudly. Dean looked up at him and paused for a moment before asking, "What?"

"Your answers are wrong," he said simply.

"Yeah," Dean snorted. "I figured they would be. Why do you care?"

"It's a simple algebra equation," he said, ignoring Dean's question. He stared down at the book while he explained to Dean how to find the value of 'x' and 'y' without making up random numbers, but when he looked up Dean was just staring at him, head resting in his hand propped up by his elbow on the table, with a slightly vacant expression and a strange smile on his face that Castiel couldn't quite figure out.

"You are such a nerd," he declared, probably for the hundredth time that week already.

"Am I boring you?" Castiel asked stiffly.

"No, no," Dean laughed, shaking his head. "Go on, I'm listening."

"Are you taking in a single thing I'm telling you?"

"Yeah sure," he grinned. "Blah blah numbers blah letters math blah."

"Fine," Castiel snapped, pushing the textbook back toward him. "I am obviously wasting my time."

"No, Cas, I'm sorry. I'm listening," he insisted, still smiling. He sat up a little straighter and nudged the textbook back a few inches closer to Castiel. "Go on try again – like I'm five."

Castiel looked at Dean, trying to decide whether he was making fun of him again or not, and found himself staring at the pout on Dean's mouth and thinking to himself that no one should be allowed lips so full and perfect. It was like they were just begging to be kissed and licked and bitten down on gently. Dean's tongue peeked out and wet his lips, causing Castiel to catch his breath. His eyes flicked back up to Dean's and he realised he'd been caught staring. He felt his cheeks and ears burning and quickly turned back to the textbook to once again try to explain to Dean exactly how to solve the problems, hoping his awkwardness would just be forgotten. People were rarely surprised anymore when Castiel acted weird.

By the end of the class Dean had actually managed a few correct answers by himself, and the rest were close enough compared to how they were before. Castiel barely managed to get through his own work with Dean sitting right there next to him brushing the end of his pencil over his bottom lip in a way that made Castiel think of some very inappropriate things that he would much rather be doing than 'counting with letters like a nerd'. When Dean looked up at him again Castiel couldn't help blushing furiously as though Dean might have heard what he was thinking. He kept his eyes fixed firmly on his own paper throughout the rest of the class.

When Mr Crowley glanced down at Dean's work he declared himself astonished at the fact that Dean had actually achieved something and informed both Dean and Charlie that they would be keeping those seats for the remainder of the school year. Castiel was torn between pride that in less than an hour he'd managed to teach Dean Mathematics better than their teachers had done in years, and horror that he would be doing just that for four hours a week until they graduated. Charlie made a sound of despair and Castiel turned around in his seat in time to see Gabriel twist his face. He still refused to look at Dean's face to see his reaction.

He heaved a sigh of relief when the bell finally rang to signal the end of the class. They all heard Mr Crowley yelling "Do your bloody homework!" as they milled out of the classroom door hurriedly.

Gabriel hadn't done too badly himself. He was by no means stupid, he only lacked the desire to push himself in such 'pointless' things as school work. It was no secret that Gabriel would love nothing more than to just drop out of school and do something ridiculous like join the circus. Gabriel could do extremely well if he would only bother to actually do it.

"Dude," Dean gasped, staring down at Gabriel's paper. "When did you get good at this crap? I had to have your nerdy little brother sat next to me doing his dork-whispering thing to figure this shit out."

"I studied," Gabriel told him, "and believe it or not but, not sitting near you helps too. You're a bad influence."

Dean smirked like he was proud of that fact.

"Come on, asshole," Gabriel said, walking away before Dean could say any more about it.

"Sorry about the shoulder," Dean said, winking at Castiel and prodding him with one finger in exactly the place where a small bruise had formed under his shirt sleeve. Castiel held back a wince and turned away from him to hide his flushed cheeks, but Dean was already walking away to catch up with Gabriel. Heading to his next class alone he made a mental note to reproach Gabriel later for mentioning his shoulder to Dean.

– –

Castiel took his time walking home, purposefully walking through the piles of fallen leaves on the pavement, enjoying the satisfying crunch under his shoes with each step. He was so absorbed in staring at the ground that he didn't notice the black Chevrolet Impala parked outside of his front door until he was right beside it.

"Wonderful," he muttered under his breath, considering whether it would be worth going inside or if he would be better to just go to the library for a few hours and come back home when Dean would likely be gone.

He hesitated, but the steadily dropping temperature won out in the end and he stole into the house as quietly as he could, hoping to sneak upstairs unnoticed and spend the rest of the night until Dean left hiding in his room forgotten.

Castiel did his best to ignore Dean and Gabriel yelling at the television while he did his homework. Once he realised he would never finish his homework while they continued their argument with the television he tried to read a book, but he couldn't concentrate with them getting louder and louder downstairs. He tried to sketch something, but he'd never been very good and the noise was just too distracting. Eventually they went quiet again, but his irritation, boredom, and growling stomach forced him to go down the stairs and find food.

Gabriel was in the kitchen stocking the fridge with beer when Castiel walked into the room. He groaned when he realised what that meant; game night. Whenever Dean's father was away for work at the same time as his and Gabriel's father the two of them would have an entire night to get drunk and play pointless video games until a ridiculous hour in the morning, making enough noise that Castiel struggled to sleep and was surprised the neighbours hadn't complained yet. Then Castiel would be left to clean up their mess in the morning while Dean slept in the spare room until midday sometime and Gabriel slept for the rest of the day wherever he happened to have landed when he couldn't stay awake any longer. Thankfully it was usually on his bedroom floor, but Castiel had found him sleeping fully clothed in the bathtub one time.

"Don't bother looking for food," Gabriel told him. "I ordered pizza."

"I'm not overly fond of pizza," Castiel grumbled. He heard the front door close and footsteps going up the stairs. He assumed that this was Dean taking his stuff up to the spare room. Castiel guessed that Sam, Dean's brother, would be probably staying at Ellen's for the night.

"Well, good luck making a beer sandwich with stale bread."

"You didn't buy any groceries?"

"Course I did," Gabriel said indignantly. "I bought beer and pizza."

Castiel opened his mouth to argue that no, buying cheap beer and ordering pizza in did not count as buying groceries, but a loud crash and a yell from above them interrupted before he could get a word out.

"What the fuck?" They heard Dean screaming from upstairs. "Oh gross, Gabriel!"

Gabriel couldn't stop laughing for long enough to tell Castiel what he'd done, but it became clear once Dean stomped into the room with a paste-like mixture of raw egg and flour covering his head and shoulders, a bucket in his hands, and a look of thunder on his face. Castiel fought back his grin, not wanting Dean to turn his frustrations on him when he was so obviously ready to pick a fight now after Gabriel's prank. He slipped past and left them to it, deciding he'd just wait in his room until the pizza arrived.

Castiel sat on his bed with his back resting against the wall, legs stretched out in front of him and his sketchpad on his knees. He tried drawing simple items from around his room, but none of it ever turned out right. He wanted to be good at art like he was with numbers, but maybe art was just something he was never meant to be capable of.

The sound from the shower running in the bathroom helped him to relax, but he found it difficult to devote his attention to his own bad drawings when his brain only wanted to think about Dean wet and naked in the room directly opposite his. He was pretty sure he'd get much more malicious torture from him than a few jokes and teasing comments if Dean ever knew he thought of him that way.

He tried to draw his own hand, but realised before he got very far that it wasn't going to turn out well at all. Gabriel was much better at this sort of stuff than Castiel was, but he'd been practicing a lot longer. The one thing that Castiel could think of that he was better at than his brother was sports, but that was something he had never really enjoyed no matter how well he did.

When the sound of the shower suddenly stopped, Castiel found himself wishing he'd shut his bedroom door as soon as he'd come back up the stairs. He jumped from his bed to close it, but just as his hand landed on the doorknob, the bathroom door opened and Dean stepped out with only his towel around his waist.

Castiel's breath caught in his throat as he found himself frozen to the spot with his mouth hanging slightly open like a deer in the headlights, watching the drops of water falling from Dean's hair and rolling down the tanned skin on his muscular chest. The low afternoon light from the window gave his wet skin a strange luminosity and his green eyes shone brighter than ever.

"What are you staring at, freak?" Dean growled.

Castiel felt his face burning furiously and didn't wait for Dean to walk away or start yelling at him. He slammed the door shut fast and dropped the floor with his back against the door and his heart hammering wildly in his chest. He put his face in his hands and gulped in a few deep panicky breaths. No one knew he was into guys; they all just thought he was weird and that that was why he never bothered trying to get a girlfriend. He only hoped Dean would put it down to his weirdness and forget about it.

Castiel was perfectly fine with who he was – he'd already come to terms with that a while back – but he could really do without the extra torture of having anyone finding out while he was still at school, especially Dean.

When his pulse calmed down again enough for him to move he climbed back onto his bed and stared down at his half-finished attempts at drawing. He couldn't banish the image of Dean fresh out of the shower from his mind and so turned the page to start a new sketch, drawing it from memory.

It was getting dark outside and he'd just about finished the sketch by the time he heard the knock at the door to signal the arrival of their supper. He stared down at the page and twisted his face in displeasure at it. Nothing he ever drew looked right. He threw the pad of paper across the room, vowing never to bother himself with it again, before heading down the stairs.

– –

Gabriel handed out the beers and placed the pizza in its open box on the coffee table between them all. After he put on a DVD and turned out the lights, Gabriel sat on the sofa next to Castiel while Dean took the armchair closest to the television. The movie was clearly Gabriel's choice, all explosions and people doing violent things to each other. It must have been funny though because Dean and Gabriel spent most of it laughing, but Castiel didn't understand most of the jokes, and the ones he did understand he simply didn't find very amusing. He gave up on the movie before long and let his eyes drift over to Dean instead; watching him smile and laugh at whatever obscene joke was being made.

He watched the way the light from the television danced and flickered over Dean's face, highlighting his cheeks and the slight crease at the corner of his eyes when he laughed too hard. He watched the way Dean's tongue flicked out to catch a string of melted cheese when he ate a slice of pizza, and the way his throat moved when he took a drink from his beer. Once or twice Dean would glance over at him, as though he could feel Castiel staring, and Castiel would look back at the television quickly, thankful that the lights were out so that neither Dean nor Gabriel would notice his cheeks growing pinker each time this happened. He tried to keep his sights focused on the movie, determined to ignore the way Dean's eyes lingered on him a little too long.

Castiel was pretty sure Dean was getting more and more aggravated with him. He was probably angry and wishing Castiel would just leave the room, but he didn't want to give in and move just yet. Gabriel appeared oblivious to Dean's discomfort with Castiel and continued to laugh loudly at everything that happened on the screen.

When the credits finally rolled, Castiel picked up all the empty beer bottles from down by Gabriel and Dean's feet and walked away to put them in the recycling with his own bottle, glad for a reason to finally get out of the room without making it look suspicious. He didn't go back to the living room, not wanting to make things any more uncomfortable than they already were. It was still a little early to go to bed on a Friday, but there really wasn't much else for him to do. He climbed the stairs to his room and stripped down to his boxers, dumping his clothes on the floor before crawling under the covers.

– –

The sound of gunfire and screaming echoed through the walls of the house and Castiel jolted awake, fighting off the last tendrils of a strange dream that clung on as he opened his eyes in the darkness. He blinked a few times before realising that the noises were coming from downstairs. He glanced briefly at the digital clock digital that sat on the table by his bed and his brain registered that it was past midnight.

The screaming was Gabriel and Dean's voices yelling things at each other that Castiel couldn't very well make out among the noise of whatever game that it was they were playing. He tried to turn over and go back to sleep but couldn't block out the voices and explosions travelling up through the house from beneath him.

Sighing heavily, Castiel flung off the covers and dragged himself out of bed, throwing on a t-shirt that was about three sizes too big for him. He wandered, bleary-eyed and yawning, down the stairs and into the living room to see Gabriel and Dean at war. Both were bellowing at each other and at the television so that neither of them was making any sense over the racket of the gunshots and bombs on their game. Castiel didn't know what the name of the game they were playing was, but it looked an awful lot like the same game they'd tried to force him to join in on last time.

He hovered in the doorway, not wanting to interrupt until they took a break. Gabriel was sat on the floor about a foot away from the television, and Dean was hanging over the arm of the armchair on his stomach, occasionally swatting at Gabriel's head when he got in the way. He found it an almost amusing sight to behold, if only they weren't both wearing equally frenzied looks of madness on their faces while they screamed directions senselessly at each other. As it was, they looked like rabid and overgrown children. He moved closer, standing behind them both to watch the final moments of the messy battle play out.

Eventually they stopped and cried out triumphantly. Castiel guessed they must have defeated their enemies, but it was hard to tell. Maybe they'd just enjoyed the madness. The screen went dark for a moment and they must have spotted Castiel's reflection in the television standing behind them. Castiel thought he heard Gabriel's neck click when he whirled his head around, and Dean jumped up from the chair so fast that he looked like he'd been electrocuted.

"Jesus-fucking-Christ-shit!" Dean shouted, throwing his controller down angrily onto the armchair. "Don't fucking do that, Cas! You don't sneak up on people like that."

"My apologies," he muttered. "I came to ask that you lower the volume. The noise of your game is making it considerably difficult for me to sleep."

Dean sat down in the armchair, blowing out a breath of air to calm himself, and picked up his beer from the table where Castiel noticed the shot glasses and half empty bottle of something that he assumed was extremely alcoholic, but kept his disapproval to himself. Their father would be very cross with them if he found out, but Castiel knew that lecturing them would not make them stop, in fact it would only make them more likely to make more mess and get louder. Dean settled back in the chair to drink his beer.

"Don't be such a party pooper," Gabriel laughed, over the shock already. He was used to his little brother silently sneaking up behind him now and tended not to react much to it. Castiel didn't mean to sneak, he was just quiet, but he'd long since given up trying to explain that to anyone. "Why don't you join us for once instead of hiding away in your room?"

"Thank you for the invitation," Castiel said wearily, "but the last time I joined you I didn't find the experience altogether enjoyable."

"You're just a sore loser," Gabriel said before draining the last of his beer from the bottle and reaching for another.

"You both targeted me and killed me repeatedly," he huffed.

"Well that's the nature of war, little brother," Gabriel shrugged. "That's the game and you'll never get better if you don't try."

"I was on your team," Castiel snapped. He just wanted to get back to sleep.

Gabriel tried to hold it together for maybe half a second before he burst into laughter. Dean grinned at that, but kept his eyes fixed on Castiel, who was beginning to wish that he'd put some pants on over his boxers before coming down the stairs to speak to them. He'd been half asleep at the time though, and still would be if he wasn't so irritated by his obnoxious older brother.

"The neighbours will complain," he said, trying to keep his voice neutral. "Mr Turner will not be pleased if he's woken."

"That old son of a bitch can't hear shit," Dean said, his voice a little slow from the alcohol he'd consumed, "he's deaf as a fucking bat."

"Dean, your language is filthy," Castiel scowled disdainfully.

"Yeah," he smirked at Castiel, "I bet you like it that way."

"Castiel?" Gabriel laughed, shocked. "He's probably never had a dirty thought in his life! He's always been the good boy – daddy's little angel. All nice and pure and quiet aren't you, baby bro."

Castiel sucked in a sharp breath, his face and ears burning. A part of him wondered if Gabriel even knew how embarrassing he was, the rest of him tried to ignore the fact that he was probably doing it on purpose. Dean shrugged and took a long drink from his beer.

"Well," he chuckled after he'd drained that bottle, staring at the blank television screen, "you know what they say about the quiet ones. Freak in the sheets."

"That's gross, man," Gabriel twisted his face in repulsion. "I really don't want to have to think about what weird kinks my little brother might have."

"I am right here, you know," Castiel finally snapped, hearing the blood rushing in his ears and wondering how on Earth his face hadn't just melted off already. "I can hear you both."

Gabriel shrugged in what Castiel thought might have been a half apologetic way, but Dean just stared at him hard. He looked angry, though Castiel wasn't sure why and he couldn't do anything but stare back at him.

"Anyway," Gabriel said, "it's blind."

"Huh?" Dean muttered, finally tearing his eyes away from Castiel.

"It's blind as a bat, not deaf as a bat," he explained, turning back to the television to put their game back on. "And Rufus isn't deaf, he just gets too drunk to care."

"Oh. Yeah," Dean said, looking down at the empty beer bottle in his hand like he was expecting life's answers from it. "Whatever."

"You sure you don't want to join us?" Gabriel asked again.

"I am quite sure," Castiel said through gritted teeth. He wished he hadn't bothered coming down. He wished he had just stayed in bed and tried for longer to ignore the noise.

"Come on," Gabriel whined, apparently oblivious to his brother's discomfort. Or maybe he just didn't care. "Get yourself a beer and –"

"Just leave it," Dean interrupted him. "Let the nerd go to bed. He's obviously too good to hang out with us."

Castiel wanted to say that that wasn't true, but was too angry with them both to say anything else. Instead he just left the room as silently as he'd entered. The alcohol had apparently made them both deaf to the volume of their own voices and Castiel heard their conversation as he climbed the stairs to his room.

"Dude, your brother's so weird."

"Stop trying too hard. It's a bit pathetic."

"What the hell is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothing, just … Nothing. Come on, we've got people to kill."

Castiel thought Dean didn't really need to try that hard to be an asshole. He was pretty good at it without trying. He yanked off his t-shirt, wrestling with it for a moment, and threw it to the floor. He almost kicked the bedside table in frustration, but took a deep breath and told himself not to lash out at inanimate objects and that he'd only end up with a sore foot and feeling worse. He had more self-control than that.

The loud sounds of war from the television started again as he climbed into bed, followed very shortly by Dean and Gabriel's voices barking instructions to each other, neither of them obviously listening to the other. He pulled the cover over his head and groaned to himself, determined to ignore it and to get back to sleep despite the noise.

– –

Castiel's eyes snapped open at the sound of his bedroom door slowly creaking opening and he pulled down the blanket to see a shadowed figure standing in the doorway in the dark. His brain took a few seconds to catch up with him as the dream he'd been having quickly filtered away from him. He was sure it had been a good one, but it was already forgotten.

"Gabriel?" He mumbled, glancing at the glowing numbers on the clock by the bed. "It's four o'clock in the morning. What do you want?"

The figure in the doorway stepped closer, swaying slightly, and as his eyes adjusted better to the dark Castiel realised it was too tall to be Gabriel. His throat went dry very quickly while he watched Dean step inside of the bedroom and shut the door quietly behind him. Castiel could smell the alcohol on him as he came closer to the bed and he wondered if he was about to get a beating or if Dean had just stumbled drunk into the wrong room after going to the bathroom.

Dean sat on the side of the bed with his back to Castiel and just stayed still for a moment. Castiel sat himself up slightly, propping himself up on his elbows. Dean said nothing, and he didn't move.

"Is everything okay?" Castiel asked him, hoping he wasn't sleepwalking.

After another stretched out moment of silence, Dean turned his body towards him and slid a hand under the covers. Castiel froze and forgot to breathe when he felt Dean's hand come to rest on the top of his leg, rubbing gently with his thumb. The air in the room somehow very quickly grew thick and heavy and almost too warm to breathe.

Dean didn't look at Castiel, who had suddenly lost his voice somewhere in his shock, but he continued to stare down at the place on the blanket where his hand rested beneath it. Time stretched on and when Castiel didn't push him away he started lightly stroking up and down the inside of Castiel's thigh with the tips of his fingers.

Castiel wondered if Dean could hear his heart thumping violently against his chest, because he certainly could. He was pretty sure Dean heard the quiet gasp that he made when he felt Dean's hand move higher to brush over his already hardening dick in his boxers. Encouraged by that, Dean moved closer, pulling away the cover and kneeling by Castiel's hips while he continued to run his palm over his thighs. Castiel couldn't see the expression on Dean's face, and he hoped that Dean couldn't see the look of absolute need that he was positive was on his.

Dean moved his hand over to Castiel's hip and squeezed slightly, rubbing his thumb over his hip bone. Castiel lay his head back down on the pillow without another word, half convinced that he'd wake up at any second. He shivered, though not with cold, as his nerves danced and every inch of him tingled with anticipation when he heard Dean's shaky breath before he moved closer.

Dean put his other hand on the pillow and leant over, bringing their faces close together, but he hesitated to go any further. With their mouths barely inches apart, Castiel could smell the beer on Dean's hot breath stronger than ever, and he raised his head to let their lips brush together softly. Dean's breathing was as ragged as his own while they stayed there, barely kissing, until Castiel felt bold enough to sweep his tongue across Dean's lips inviting him to take it further.

Dean didn't need any more encouragement than that. He pressed their lips together hard, forcing Castiel's head back down onto the pillow again, and then moved closer so that he was straddling Castiel's leg while his fingers teased the skin under the band of his shorts. Only through sheer force of will did Castiel hold himself back from thrusting his hips up against Dean's stomach in the pursuit of the friction he craved. Both of his hands stayed firmly down by his sides, clutching at the sheets while Dean's tongue slid past his lips to explore his mouth with vigour. He didn't know what they had been drinking shots of, but he found himself a lot less disapproving now that he could taste it in Dean's mouth.

Castiel felt his stomach flip. His breathing was so hard and fast that it made him dizzy. He thought he should probably be pushing Dean away, telling him that he was drunk and that he should sleep, but he didn't want to. He did almost break it off to start asking questions, to make sense of what was going on, but any moral thoughts he might have been having were chased away as soon as he felt Dean's hand playing at the elastic of his boxers.

Castiel lost the ability to think coherently anymore, and he really didn't care. He moaned faintly into Dean's mouth when he felt fingers ghosting delicately over the head of his erection, and he would deny that he let out any kind of whimper when those fingers moved away again, but he'd be lying. Dean pulled his head away, breaking the kiss, and Castiel could see enough now to recognise the grin on Dean's face before he came back down to press his mouth against Castiel's neck where his pulse fluttered wildly. He sucked on the skin, brushing his tongue over it while he slowly moved his lips down to Castiel's collar bone, occasionally nipping at his skin gently with his teeth, forcing a throaty groan from the boy underneath him while his fingers continued to tease tenderly closer to his aching cock, and away again. When he felt Dean's fingers brush up against him again Castiel let out a low involuntary whine and bucked his hips upward.

Dean moved his mouth back up from Castiel's collar to his ear to whisper, "God I fucking love the noises you make."

Castiel held back a growl of impatience, but couldn't prevent a gasp when Dean moved down again and his tongue darted out to lick the hollow of Castiel's neck and he pushed his hand further down past the stretchy band and into his boxers, stroking his shaft lightly with only his knuckles, giving barely any friction at all.

"I love the way you blush when you look at me," Dean whispered. "I'll bet you're blushing right now. I wish I could see it – your cheeks all flushed pink with wanting me."

Castiel would be willing to bet he was flushed too. His skin was hot and burning all over, needing to be touched. He still couldn't bring himself to speak, as though his voice was caught in his throat and all he could do was pant heavily and moan when Dean's fingers finally curled around his throbbing cock. He pushed his hips up against Dean's hand, needing his release, but Dean opened his hand again and slid it up Castiel's hip and higher, over his ribs and then to his nipple. His thumb rubbed circles around the raised nub while Dean's tongue flicked over the other, extracting a loud groan from Castiel.

"Shhh, Cas, not so loud," Dean whispered. Castiel could almost hear the smirk in his voice. "Don't wanna wake your brother."

Castiel replied by wrapping his arms around Dean's waist to dig his fingers into his back and rocking his hips up against him until Dean held him down. Castiel felt Dean's erection heavy on his thigh through Dean's pants and moved his leg to rub up against it, finally getting a low moan from him. He pulled at Dean's shirt, dragging it up and over his head to throw it to the floor.

"So much for being an angel," Dean whispered into his ear, chuckling quietly. Castiel pushed back his remembered embarrassment from earlier, attacking Dean's mouth again so that he would have an excuse to say nothing.

Dean moved back, only slightly, and pulled down the waistband of Castiel's shorts to his knees. Castiel kicked them off the rest of the way, leaving him naked and Dean only partly clothed. He rested a hand on Castiel's chest and trailed it slowly down his stomach.

"Do you like the way I touch you, Cas?" He asked, his voice barely even a whisper. He lightly caressed Castiel's hip bones with his fingers while he squirmed underneath him feverish with need. "Am I …" His voice seemed to choke him for a moment, and Castiel heard him swallow loudly before he continued, "Is it good?"

Castiel nodded his head, gasped out a breathless "yes!" and gripped onto Dean tighter, moving one hand from Dean's waist up to hold the back of his head. Dean's fingers closed around his cock and began stroking slowly while he rested his head on Castiel's shoulder and pressed his own crotch against Castiel's leg again, breathing heavily into his neck.

"I know you've been looking at me, Cas," he said, his voice catching slightly when he rocked his hips into Castiel's. "I've seen you looking. I bet you're not as quiet as you act in school. I want to know what filthy thoughts go through your mind when you're looking – what dirty things you think up when you're alone touching yourself."

Castiel could do nothing but gasp out Dean's name, panting heavily while Dean's hand picked up the pace, pumping his cock fast, and then slowing again. He felt himself getting closer, his orgasm just out of reach.

"God Cas," Dean groaned, pressing himself harder against Castiel, shamelessly rutting against his leg. "You don't even know how hot you are, do you? With your hair constantly looking like you just had sex … your eyes … and your mouth made for … fuck!"

Dean's hand and hips moved faster. He lifted his head and Castiel's eyes had adjusted enough that he could see his mouth half open while he stared down lustfully, barely holding on to his own voice. They were both so close now, skin sliding on sweat from the heat in the room, and Dean's pants still the only piece of clothing between them.

"The things I'd love to do to you …" Dean moaned. The drunkenness in his voice was a little more noticeable now. "Fuck, Cas! I want to touch you everywhere. I want you. Fuck! I'm sorry. I'm sorry."

"Dean, shut up," he said. He didn't want an apology from him, not right now.

"I'm sorry," Dean muttered again, trailing frantic kisses over Castiel's chest. "The names … the pushing …"

"Stop it," he growled. If Dean No-Chick-Flick-Moments Winchester wanted to apologise to him, then he could do it sometime when he was sober. "Tell me you're sorry later."

"I don't know what I'm … I don't know what's wrong with me. I'm sorry. "

Castiel felt that spark of anger from earlier flare up inside of him again, but he was unsure of exactly why this time. He reached up and tangled his hand in Dean's hair, dragging him into a furious kiss before forcing him down the bed by his shoulder with a low growl and pushing Dean's head down to his dick. He was surprised when Dean didn't resist him at all, and even more surprised when he willingly opened his mouth and took Castiel inside him, wrapping his lips around his cock while Castiel kept his grip on Dean's hair.

Castiel had nothing to compare it to, but while he was fairly convinced that Dean had never done this before, it was still pretty fucking good. He stared down to watch Dean's head bobbing up and down, sucking and using his tongue in some deliciously sinful ways. He surrendered to it, gasping and moaning loudly, more than a little bit hopeful that Gabriel would have passed out by now anyway and wouldn't be waking until the next afternoon.

Castiel moved his leg against Dean's crotch until he moaned loudly around his dick. Dean slowly came back off, ignoring Castiel's protests, and licked a stripe right up his shaft from the base. He wrapped his lips around the head and swirled his tongue around it until Castiel could hear his own whispering voice begging nonsensically. His lips slid back down again while he carefully tested himself, taking in as much of Castiel as he could until Castiel felt himself nudging the back of Dean's throat. When Dean swallowed around him, it made holding back unbearable. He tightened his grip on Dean's hair while he pulled back slowly.

Dean went back to moving quickly, his head moving up and down while he gripped the base of Castiel's cock and twisted gently, his thumb moving in circles. Castiel felt heat and pressure building inside and Dean reached down to rub himself while he sucked on Castiel, moaning around him again.

All of Castiel's restraint left him at that and his hips twitched up into Dean's mouth once, twice, three times, and then his jaw dropped slack and his eyes rolled, lights bursting behind the lids. He turned his face into his pillow to stifle the loud moan as he came, emptying himself into Dean's throat, which he swallowed down greedily.

Dean remained still for a moment until Castiel's cock stopped pulsing, and then slowly slid his lips up his length, lapping his tongue at the head before letting it go. He crawled back up the bed and pressed himself into Castiel, kissing greedily with his arms behind Castiel's back, holding on to his shoulders. He pushed his tongue past Castiel's lips, forcing him to taste the salty flavour of his own come in Dean's mouth. Castiel didn't care so long as he had Dean's lips and body pressed against his.

Dean thrust his hips and his lips travelled away from Castiel's, pressing kisses onto his jaw, his throat, his collar, and then to his ear where he nipped at the lobe tenderly. Castiel registered somewhere at the back of his mind that he could almost see daylight creeping closer through the gap in the curtains and that there wasn't many hours before he'd have to get up, but he ignored it.

Castiel slipped one hand between them to cup Dean's dick through his pants and lifted the other hand to his mouth to wet his fingers. He pushed his hand down the back of Dean's pants and glided his fingers closer to his entrance – not pushing in, only teasing, while Dean fucked into Castiel's curled palm and panted open mouthed onto his neck. He moved slowly, giving Dean the chance to let him know if he wanted him to back off, but he only seemed to grow more excited by it. He squeezed his hand a little harder when Dean's rhythm began to stutter and pressed two fingers against his hole.

Dean froze, back arching and mouth hanging open as he came and spilled himself into his pants with a choked moan. When it was over he sighed loudly and collapsed on top of Castiel's chest, panting and gasping against his throat, arms still clinging onto Castiel's shoulders like he thought he would fall away if he let go. His head was tucked just under Castiel's, right in the groove of his shoulder and neck, tickling Castiel's chin and cheek with his hair. They lay there in a tangle of sweaty limbs, unmoving for Castiel didn't know how long, sated and feeling each other's heartbeats against their chests slowly return to normal, until Dean looked up at Castiel and gulped audibly.

"Dean," Castiel whispered, not sure exactly what he was going to say.

Dean looked away quickly. He pushed himself up and moved away, refusing to look back at Castiel. He sat on the side of the bed, back where he'd started, with his face in his hands, just shaking and trying to steady his breathing. Castiel could see a little better now and he thought he maybe saw a pained look on Dean's face when he moved his hands to wrap them around himself. Castiel wanted to reach out a hand, to just touch Dean's arm to let him know it was okay, but he didn't think it would be welcome.

"Shit," Dean whispered, so quiet Castiel almost didn't hear it.

When he stood up and stumbled back out of the room, Castiel didn't try to stop him. He just lay there in the almost darkness, shivering slightly as the sweat cooled on his naked body and he wondered what the hell had just happened.

As he pulled the blanket back up around him, his brain assaulted him with all the things he hadn't been able to think since Dean had first touched him, but of all the wild and crazy half formed thoughts racing through his mind, flying through the spectrum from panic to elation, the only truly coherent sentence that his brain could put together for him was that he was pretty sure this was going to make math class on Monday a lot more awkward.