He's sitting in class, blue eyes twitching from his test-paper towards the green eyed boy in the row next to his. He can't concentrate on his Italian paper. Actually, the only reason he inscribed to that foreign language course was Dean Winchester. He overheard Dean talking to his friends about it, so of course he put his name on the list. Castiel tears his eyes away from Dean, back at the paper and pen in front of him, his leg switches nervously making his whole body tremble lightly when he realizes he doesn't even understand the assignments. He lets his head fall down heavily on the desk in frustration and anger.
During the lessons he is mostly preoccupied with watching Dean shift, how his hand touches his neck when he's not entirely sure about something or a little embarrassed. How his eyes get lighter when sun meets them, or how much he wishes he could be that pen, that Dean puts in his mouth, so often.
His mind keeps replaying images of Dean over and over until he hears the noise of leather on jeans. Castiel's head shoots up as he sees and smells Dean, who is about to leave the classroom. The green eyed stands up, fixes his old, used leather jacket, shoves pen in his backpack and throws that over his left shoulder. When Dean passes by Castiel's desk, the smell of leather mixed with motor oil and some aftershave hits Cas like a wave. He sucks in all the smell like a sponge, desperate for water.
As Dean reaches the teacher's desk, he hands in the paper with a sly grin, perfect opportunity for Castiel to check out that beautiful ass of Dean's. His jeans are worn out but hugged his behind in the best way possible, and as long as Cas has the possibility to stare, he is going to. While Castiel was appreciating the view, Dean turned around in a swift motion, catching Cas staring, who's face turned as bright red as a streetlight. Dean just smirks and shoots another grin towards the blushing boy, before winking at him and getting out of the suddenly hot classroom.
Castiel just continues staring at the door, where Dean Winchester just went outside. His mouth hanging open, his face bloodshot, the test forgotten.
After quite some time, and some harsh words from his teacher Mr. Crowley, Castiel returns his thought to the Italian paper. He bites his small lips and stares down at the piece of paper in front of him trying to at least write one word.
"Finally" he whispers to himself in relief, when he finds an advise he understands.
The rest of the hour passes fast, and while most of the students already handed their papers in, Castiel is still sitting in the classroom till the very moment the bell rings.
He quickly grabs his blue pen and the test without noticing Mr. Crowley's disapproving look as he sees the nearly empty test. Castiel doesn't have problems at school, but he's not the brightest light in the room, so failing a test isn't something he's never done, but it's still surprising to some teachers.
With pen still in his hand and rucksack over his shoulders he hurries down the aisle to get to his next class, English.
When the blue-eyed boy reaches the classroom he realizes that he has forgotten, the book they are currently reading, in the locker. He turns around quickly and his chest smashed into something firm and hard. Air is pressed out of his body with a silent "oh". Because of the encounter his pen fell to the floor, and as Castiel bends down the pick it up he realizes in who he just crashed into. The boy shoots back up and is immediately greeted by shiny green eyes.
"Sorry", Green-eyes whispers, way to close to Cas face.
"My fault", barley escapes Castiel's chapped lips. His eyes still interlocked with Dean's. Suddenly Castiel realizes that he could easily press his lips on the other boy's, he could just stretch his arm out a little and he could ruffle through that light brown hair, and pull him towards him. It would be so easy, but Castiel just keeps standing there, unmoving, eyes wide, like a deer caught in the headlights.
Dean is the one who breaks the spell, they seemed to be under. He bends down, picks up Cas' pencil and hands it to the other boy, who took it mechanically and nods his thanks. The sweet smell of Dean that just filled his lungs, brain and all the air around him, disappears into thin air with only a soft "goodbye" murmured, barley audible.