Note: I couldn't find a good picture of Lawrence High School, so I made it up. Just think of this as an alternate universe version of. If you are from Lawrence or just Kansas and notice any errors—shhh! (Sorry! No offences meant!)

"Do we really have to go in?" Dean asks, his voice more whiny than he will ever admit to, looking at the sight before him with a look of disgust on his face. All around him, cars sit in ignorance of his situation, uncaring that this is seriously the last place on earth he wants to be at the moment. Even his baby looks back at him with zero sympathy, despite the fact that it is partly the Impala's fault that he's here. If she had just broken down like he has prayed for the last week before coming here, this wouldn't be a problem.

He shoots her a dirty look before looking back at his equally unsympathetic boyfriend. Castiel is dressed in a light blue button up with a rumpled black tie—didn't he iron the damn thing this morning?—and Dean just wants to take him back to their motel room and peel those stupid clothes off of him. He looks like a goddamn school teacher (probably because he is), but all Dean wants is to have his Cas all to himself and to not go to this stupid event.

"Yes, Dean," he replies, giving Dean the look. It is the look that brooked zero protest (and promised to withhold sex if he didn't cooperate). "We drove nine hours to get here. We're going in."

Dean pouts. "But Cas, you promised we could leave early if it was really bad," he so totally didn't whine. "It's bad, come on. Let's go. We could make it to St. Louis in four hours if we drive fast. I know how much you like the Cardinals."

Castiel doesn't roll his eyes because he is more mature than that, but it's a close thing.

"We haven't even gone in yet," he responds evenly, pushing Dean forward slightly. "And it's you who likes the Cardinals."

Dean grumbles incoherently, but allows his partner to push him towards the ominous building looming over them. All right. It's not that ominous, and it really doesn't loom that much considering the fact that it's only a one-story building. But Dean still doesn't want to go in. He's been putting this off since he got the first letter several months ago.

Several Months Ago…

The first letter came on a rainy Wednesday afternoon and really, thank god for that because it meant he could rip it up before Castiel got home and asked him about it. He didn't even bother reading it because anything with that stupid lion on the envelope was something he didn't want to look at. When Castiel came home from school, Dean had dinner ready and had already forgotten about the stupid letter.

The second time, Castiel found it and looked absolutely delighted that his boyfriend was getting mail from his old high school. Cas had been home schooled, or else Dean thought he really wouldn't be so freaking excited.

"They're probably asking for money," he said, preparing to give this letter the same treatment as the last. The only thing that stopped him was a glance up at his partner to find a look of deep disappointment on his face. Shit. Now he had to open the stupid envelope. Sighing to himself exaggeratedly, Dean slipped his finger into the top, ripping open the envelope. When he pulled out the letter, feeling a strange sense of déjà vu, Castiel's eyes lit up with interest and he had to admit that he was glad he had given in.

He was glad, that is, until he read what was in the letter.

Please join us for Lawrence High School's class of 1997's ten-year reunion!

Oh god. No. Hell no.

"Uh, it's nothing, Cas," Dean muttered, already starting to crumple it up. The schoolteacher didn't look at all convinced. He always had been able to tell when Dean was lying. The look he gave him was one of expectation, as if he didn't even need to ask for Dean to tell him the truth. He didn't.

"It's just a stupid event at my old school, man," he admitted, throwing the crumpled paper into the bin by the desk. Shrugging nonchalantly, he subtly changed the topic, "What do you want to do for dinner tonight?"

Castiel's brows flew up but, miracle of miracles, he dropped it. That night, Dean breathed a sigh of relief, expecting that to be the end of it.

It wasn't.

It took several more weeks, but it did come up again. While Dean was usually the one at home because of the fact that he worked from his home office, on this particular day he was out at a meeting with a client, so he wasn't the one to answer the phone when they called.

"Dean, your school called today," he announced when Dean walked in the door. Pulling his jacket off, Dean frowned in confusion.

"Cas, you're the one with the school here," he replied in a puzzled tone, pulling his tie off and tossing it at the spot where he had just thrown his jacket.

Castiel smiled in amusement and clarified, "Your old high school. I spoke with a lovely woman by the name of Becky. She was in your class, apparently. Do you remember her?"

Dean stared at his boyfriend for a long time before he shook his head. He had done his best to block high school out of his memory.

"Well," Castiel continued, looking pleased with himself, "Becky was telling me that your ten-year reunion is in a couple of months. I told her that you would definitely be there!"

He looked so proud of himself that Dean hardly knew how to break it to him that he sure as hell wasn't going to that thing. After a moment of deliberation, he decided that straight forward was probably the best way.

"Cas, I hate to break it to you," he started, trying to be nice about it but failing miserably because he couldn't control his own damn mouth. "But I sure as hell ain't going to that thing."

He immediately regretted the words. Castiel looked so devastated that he wished he could have agreed, or at the very least put it better. Since he couldn't take it back, he settled for comforting the older man now. He stepped forward, pulling Castiel into his arms. Instead of melting into him like he usually did, the man stiffened in his arms.

"Babe…"

Castiel pouted. Well, that's what Dean was calling that look anyway. Castiel probably wouldn't agree.

"Dean, I really think this would be a good opportunity for you," he told him, moving away toward the kitchen. "I know how you feel about your high school and I think this could be very good closure for you."

Now it was Dean's turn to pout (if he pouted, which he didn't).

With a sigh, he followed Castiel into the other room. "Come on, Cas," he moaned. "I got closure the day I graduated from that hellhole. Trust me, you don't want me going back there. I don't want you there. That place… those people. I left for a reason, babe."

Castiel opened the fridge, but turned to look at his lover rather than at the contents.

"Why don't you want me there?" he asked quietly, looking at the younger man searchingly.

Dean fidgeted, because they had talked about this before, but only vaguely. He didn't really want Castiel, who in some ways was really kind of naïve, to know everything that he had done in high school. He hadn't blocked those memories because of what other people did.

"'Cause…" he answered eloquently. Castiel closed the door to the refrigerator again and leaned back against it with his hands held in front of him patiently.

"Look, I told you what kinda guy I was back then," he said, looking anywhere but at those understanding blue eyes. "I don't wanna go back to that. I don't wanna see those people. And dammit, Cas, I don't want them to see you."

Castiel's eyes softened. "You've changed," he said, stepping into Dean's person space and placing his palm against his cheek. "Perhaps some of them have too."

Dean took the next obvious step and kissed those gorgeous lips before shaking his head. "They didn't."

The dark-haired man pulled away with a sigh and went to the cabinet next to the fridge. Pulling out a packet of spaghetti, he asked quietly, "Is pasta all right? I'm not really in the mood to cook much tonight."

And now he felt guilty. "Come on. Baby, you know how unlikely it is that any of those jerks stopped being homophobic assholes. I don't want you to have to put up with that."

"Do you want pasta?"

Dean just stared at him and then shrugged. "Sure. Pasta sounds fine."

Thinking maybe that was the end of the conversation, he unbuttoned the top buttons of his shirt and sat down at the table. Already thinking about his meeting earlier that day, he had to make Castiel repeat himself when he spoke again.

"I asked, why are you only worried about the way they will treat me?"

That wasn't a question he had expected. "Because," he responded, feeling especially articulate tonight. He took a deep breath and tried again. "I mean, you don't deserve that. You shouldn't have to put up with that crap."

He was met with a raised brow and a question. "You think you deserve to be treated poorly?"

The younger man shrugged, mumbling incoherently and looking down at his hands. While he wasn't looking, Castiel came up behind him and slid his arms around him.

"Dean," he breathed, his voice gravelly and his breath warm on Dean's neck. "You do not deserve to be treated poorly." His lips pressed against the younger man's neck briefly before he continued, "You are a good man. You have changed."

Dean shivered, but didn't respond.

It didn't come up again until the next night when they were in bed. Dean was reading an article about BMW's recent redesign (it was absolute crap in his opinion) and working on forgetting last night's conversation. It was going pretty well, when Castiel slid into his lap, removing the magazine from his hands and carefully setting it on the bedside table. Unsuspecting, Dean grinned and helped Cas reposition himself more firmly on his lap.

"Hey, babe," he murmured lowly, pretty pleased with this turn in his night.

Castiel pressed his lips to Dean's jaw and murmured, "Hello Dean." Shifting forward, he rolled his hips so that his crotch rubbed down against his boyfriend's. Dean moaned low and placed his hands on the older man's hips. Castiel moved against him again and again, eliciting soft keening noises from Dean (that they both knew he made but about which Dean had forbidden him from ever telling anyone).

"Cas Cas Cas…" he muttered incoherently, sliding his hands up and down Cas's waist. "So sexy."

Castiel smiled and kissed his lover on the mouth, carding his hands into sandy blonde hair. Dean's hand moved down to a very firm ass and he grinned into Cas's mouth at the surprised sound he emitted. In response, the older man shifted back just slightly so that he was no longer seated up against him so close and placed his hands on Dean's chest.

Giving Dean a look that could only be read as determined, Castiel slid one hand down his lover's chest, slowly making his way toward the hemline of his pajama shirt. Licking his lips, the blonde did his best not to move even while his hips slowly rolled up toward Castiel's coming hand. Licking at his boyfriend's now straining neck, the dark-haired man finally pushed his long fingers beneath the elastic band of Dean's flannel bottoms.

"Caaas..." Dean bit out the name like a prayer, moaning shamelessly when the man in question wrapped those long fingers around his cock just the way he liked it. Cas knew exactly how to drive this man crazy, knew exactly how tight to hold him and how fast to move, and right now he put that knowledge to use. Pressing his lips to Dean's now straining neck, he freed his lover's cock from his pants and began working his fist up and down its length slowly. Humming in satisfaction, Castiel rubbed himself against Dean's legs, loving the friction against his own crotch and the sight of how he could take the man he loved apart with one hand and a few kisses.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean groaned, slurring his words incoherently. By now, he was bucking up into Castiel's tight fist at a faster pace, trying to urge him to move faster. In response, Cas tightened his grip but slowed down again, rubbing his thumb over the leaking head. " C'mon, c'mon, c'mon!"

A deep kiss and a dozen more pumps had Dean losing it at last. Shouting out the name of the man in his lap, he came in Castiel's fist. He continued rolling his hips up slowly for a while longer before he finally had to stop Cas's hand. Letting out a deep sigh, he rested his head back against the headboard and promised himself that as soon as he regained his bones he would return the favor for the man who had just given him a handjob.

"Damn, Cas," Dean breathed. "What was that for?"

Castiel moved off of his lap and sat next to him in silence for a moment. And that was when the ball dropped.

"I didn't get to have a high school experience," he informed Dean quietly, still slightly out of breath. He looked over at his partner with that stupid serious frown that his boyfriend really hated (but secretly sort of loved) and laid his hand on the younger man's thigh.

Beginning to see where this was going and not liking it at all, Dean joked, "Babe, you're in high school still. I'd think that was plenty of experience."

The teacher tilted his head toward one side and then licked his lips in a manner that seemed almost experimental. Dean's breath hitched in his throat at the small movement.

"I would like to experience a high school reunion," he replied smoothly, running his hand slowly up Dean's thigh. "Considering I'll never get to go to one of my own, yours is my only chance."

Oh shit. This is what he was playing at? First sex and now guilt? Damnit if the guy didn't know him scarily well. Still. He wasn't going to give in. He would not be going to that goddamn reunion.

Now…

Castiel laces his hand into Dean's and tugs him forward, a triumphant smile on his face as he guides the younger man toward the school. It took several weeks, a lot of mind-blowing sex, and daily battering, but he finally gave in. Already he knows that he shouldn't have, but he had always had a problem saying 'no' to the blue-eyed man. There are only so many times he could say it before he has to cave. Which is how he finds himself being dragged toward the entrance to a school he had sworn to himself he would never return to, a bunch of black and red balloons and a tacky sign to greet him. It reads in cheerful, hand painted letters:

WELCOME CLASS OF '97!