Dean Winchester was having a bad fucking day. He scowled and grabbed a coffee ("black, I mean it, no freaking milk") from the twitchy employee at the coffee cart and downed it, scalding hot. It burned Dean's tongue, but Dean didn't really care. He needed something, something to make him feel vaguely better after the petty bitch fight he had with this stupid girl, and the burn kind of helped a little.

He swept those thoughts away as best as he could and stalked to the library so he could meet Charlie, his self-appointed study-partner who could quote practically every line of the Harry Potter books by memory, and who also informed Sam on how Dean was doing. At first Dean felt absolutely stupid, like his little brother still needed to take care of him from miles away, but it kept Sam happy and Charlie kept him on focus. Plus he was fond of Charlie, like the little sister he never wanted.

"No drinks in the library!"

A middle-aged woman with a plastered on smile and tightly permed hair was sitting at a counter near the entrance, scanning returns. Charlie called her Professor Umbridge in secret, and Dean would rather not address her directly at all.

"Bite me," Dean murmured under his breath. He finished the drink and chucked the plastic cup hastily into a convenient bin near the doors, and walked in.

He found Charlie in her usual spot, red hair tied back as she typed frantically on her laptop. Her t-shirt read "Keep Calm, I'm the Doctor" on it, and she looked up and smiled at Dean as he walked in.

Dean dumped his books on the table and grunted in greeting.

"Someone's a happy chappy today, I see," Charlie said, altogether too chipper for his liking.

"I'm too ecstatic for words," Dean muttered, throwing her a less than impressed look. "I'm pretty sure if you loaded me up on enough Coke, I'd burp rainbows."

"Sam says hi, by the way," Charlie said, pinching his arm with her nails. He frowned in protest, and smacked her hands away.

"Yeah, yeah," Dean said. "I'll call him back soon. I've been busy."

"I'm sure he hasn't forgotten that his older brother is a notorious womanizer," Charlie said, seemingly uninterested in the conversation already and turning back to her laptop. "But he is getting pretty worried. Yesterday he asked me if you were eating enough."

Dean groaned. "That's my job. I better call him tonight, see how he's doing, see if he's sealed the deal on Jess yet."

Charlie threw him a dirty look. "I hope you have more tact than that when you ask him."

Dean snorted. "Sammy's used to me. Besides, what am I meant to say? 'Hey Sammy, wondering if you've gotten Jessica to accept your gentlemanly calls?'"

Charlie paused. "Hm, what about, 'Hey Sammy, how are you and Jess?' See. Simple. Not invasive." Her fingers constantly on the keys made an annoying, uneven melody that made Dean's mood worsen.

"What the fuck are you even doing, anyway?" Dean pulled Charlie's laptop so he could see it, and he made a face when he saw what was on it. "Really? Really? Roleplay?"

"Fuck off, Dean Winchester," Charlie said, but in a happy kind of upbeat voice. "This girl, Becky, is totally an awesome roleplayer, plus I think she's kind of in to me."

Dean raised his eyebrows. "Well, good for you then, C. Least someone's getting some ass."

"Hm? Your Barbie Dream Girl went back to Ken Doll?" Charlie said, batting her eyes in imitation of the aforementioned Barbie Dream Girl. "Realised she couldn't tame Bad Boy Dean?"

Dean pulled his best imitation of James Dean and said, "You know no one can tame the beast."

"Well," Charlie said, "better get started on some work. All play and no work makes Dean a college drop out."

"Yeah, sure," Dean said, flipping through his books to find the one he was looking for.

"Oh yeah, but first, I want to invite you to this thing tonight." Charlie grinned. "It's like, meant to be really awesome and really cool and really just, really. I'm pretty sure I've never been invited to anything so cool ever."

"Not even my invigorating birthday soiree?" Dean said, raising his eyebrows at her. For his last birthday, Dean invited like, five people over to watch bad horror movies and laugh at them. This was partly because he liked movies, and mostly because he didn't really have many friends.

"This must take a close second," Charlie said, nodding seriously. "But yeah. Come. I'll pick you up and everything."

"In your car?" Dean said, scoffing in disgust. "No. No. We're taking my baby."

Charlie rolled her eyes. "Fine. We'll take your 'baby'" – here she made quotation marks around the word – "and you pick me up then."

"What is it?" Dean asked, curiousity peaked. "If this is some lame fraternity thing I may have to tie you to a chair and make you eat every type of pie in existence. And you know how much you hate pie." Dean gave her another disgusted scoff then, shaking his head.

"Just some party thing," Charlie said. "But I want you to meet someone. I think you'll hate him and it'll be hilarious."

"You want me to meet someone you'll think I hate." Dean paused, and then shrugged. "Well, hell, you're probably right. Bring it on."

This was definitely not Dean's crowd. Everything seemed smoky and hazy and when people exchanged hushed whispers near each others ears, Dean felt like they were imparting knowledge or some profound wisdom on life. In reality they were probably talking about how much the band sucked or something, but fuck if those judgmental eyes said anything else.

Dean was trying hard not to run back out of the door and straight into his baby, and he made a face at Charlie from where she was sitting at the bar. She was kind of looking around everywhere with this awed expression, as if these people were infinitely cool or something.

"Drinks better be on you," Dean said as he sat next to Charlie, feeling freaking uncomfortable in his outdated jacket. But he was Dean, and he didn't look uncomfortable anywhere, so he just put on his Fuck Off face and hoped no one would approach or say anything to him.

Charlie glanced at Dean. "Yeah, yeah. Hey, do you think you could do me a favour and turn on the Dean Winchester charm? I wanna see how people here react to it."

Dean looked at Charlie. "How they would react to it? You know how people would goddamn react to it. Feeling weak at the knees and ready for a piece of this." He gestured to his body.

Charlie snorted. "These people are different, Dean."

"Different?" Dean shrugged. "They look human to me."

"Yeah but they're…"

"Pretentious douchebags?" Dean finished. "So, where's the guy that you wanted me to meet?"

"Oh, he should be around here…" Charlie muttered, scanning the room, "…somewhere."

Dean ordered a drink and turned around, people watching. It was kind of a habit for Dean, to look around the room and scan the area, making sure he sat in a place where he could see everyone and everything. He guessed he learned it from Dad, who had always been kind of paranoid someone was going to come into Chuck-E-Cheeses with a gun or something.

"Oh, there he is!"

Charlie pointed straight at some guy that was making his way into the place. Dean moved a bit to get a better view at the guy. He was kind of tall he guessed, not short at least. There was a mess of black hair on his head, the kind of black that Dean guessed would be brown in the sunlight. He was wearing jeans and a simple t-shirt underneath this big oversized overcoat which he had shucked when he walked in, and Dean guessed things being oversized was some sort of trend or something. He walked in all badass-like, like he owned the place, and Dean instantly held some sort of dislike for him.

All the same, he couldn't take his eyes off him.

"That's him?" Dean said, with his eyes still on him. "Doesn't look like much to me."

Charlie smirked. "Yeah, that's Castiel. He's awesome."

"Awesome," Dean repeated. And then, "Castiel?"

"Named after an angel or something," Charlie said. "Religious family." She looked down at her phone. "I txted him to come meet us here."

Castiel walked over to them, and as he got closer Dean noticed the colour of his eyes. God damn, his girlfriends must have a field day writing poetry with those eyes.

"Cas!" Charlie said, reaching out as if to give Castiel a hug but then stopping at the last moment. That made Dean's mouth twitch in question, but he didn't say anything.

"Hello, Charlie," Castiel said. His voice was freaking deep, and all gravelly, and it caught Dean off guard. He couldn't help but notice it didn't entirely match the way Castiel looked, but it entirely matched the way Castiel carried himself. Dean also couldn't help but notice how fucking attractive he was.

"What's happening?" Charlie said with a nod. "Oh! This is Dean. Dean, this is Castiel."

Charlie then kind of pushed Dean towards Castiel in a nervous way, and when Dean looked at her in protest Charlie raised her eyebrows in an anticipating look.

"Hey man," Dean said, tilting his drink towards Castiel. "Nice to meet you."

"Hello, Dean." Castiel inclined his head towards him. "Charlie talks a lot about you."

"Oh, really?" Dean said, flicking his head a little bit in exaggerated pride. "And does she spend hours talking about the perfectness of my green eyes, or the light I bring in her dull everyday life?"

"No." Castiel's face was as straight as one's face would be when playing poker. "She talks about how your car is your one true love and that you talk to it like it's your lover."

Dean smirked. "Nobody comes between me and my baby."

Castiel tilted his head. "Well, that's fine. People are very open here. I know of someone in this establishment that likes to have sex with a blow-up doll." He smiled a tad to Charlie and Dean, and then walked further down the bar, calling for the bartender.

Dean was left with his mouth opening and closing like a fish.

"Yeah, so that's Castiel," Charlie said, toasting the drink in her hand which she had gotten a tad bit before. "May you guys bring me entertainment for years to come." She downed sip from her drink.

"We better not be staying here long," is all Dean said.

Dean was making some effort to mingle, leaving Charlie's side. He was talking to Tessa something or another about this book they both had to read for high school which they found horrendous, but then Tessa was dragged away by her boyfriend and Dean was left having to find someone else halfway decent to talk to. He sighed, looking around to see if anyone caught his eye, but nobody did. He decided to go outside round the back for some fresh hair, his breaths full of sweat.

Cool air hit Dean's face and he relished it, shoving his hands inside his jacket pockets and walking over to the wall. He saw a figure there, alone, and as he got closer he saw it was Castiel.

He had a cigarette in one hand and he was looking at one of the only pieces of wall that was free from graffiti. Dean decided to clear his throat, just in case Castiel had turned around and thought Dean was a creeper or something. Well, it's not exactly like Dean particularly cared what Castiel thought, but nobody liked to be known as a creep.

Castiel turned to the noise. "Oh, Dean."

"Yeah," Dean replied, walking closer to Castiel. "Why are you staring there?"

"I'm just thinking," Castiel said, "of all the things I could write there if I was inclined to do so."

At some point, Castiel had shrugged that trenchcoat, overcoat thing back on, and it hung loosely on his frame. Dean noticed he had his hands in his pockets, palming something in them.

"Funny that you're out here," Dean said, "since you strike me as such the party animal."

Castiel tilted his head. "Oh, I was unaware of that."

Dean snorted. "That was a joke, Cas. Sarcasm. You know?"

Castiel didn't say anything for a while, and then, "My name is Castiel."

"I know that," Dean said.

"You called me Cas."

"Did I?" Dean felt some surprise. He didn't realise that he had called Castiel Cas, but I guess it wasn't his fault that his brain had decided to shorten the fucking weird name. "Sorry. But not really. I'm calling you Cas."

Cas seemed to make some sort of disapproving noise, but didn't say anything else. He just continued smoking, before he seemed to realise something.

"Oh, sorry," Cas said, not really sounding sorry at all. "Do you want one?" He waved his cigarette a bit. "I sometimes forget social norms. There are so many."

Dean shook his head. He couldn't stand the damn things. "Nah, I'm good."

Dean turned his head towards Castiel, and again it stroke him how pretty Castiel was. Dean found himself looking at his eyes with his own, and moving to his those lips, wanting to trace those with his own.

Fuck. Dean didn't mean to think that, but he couldn't freaking help it, and it wasn't helping that he found smoking attractive on some people as well.

No-one spoke, the sound of their breaths intermingling with the silence of their thoughts, and Dean wanted to know what the real reason Castiel was out here was. He felt this stupid connection, fueled by Dean's own insatiable curiousity, which pulled him closer to Castiel. He could feel it, could feel the sort of comfort he felt in Castiel's presence which he really shouldn't, seeing as he just met the guy. This silence should feel awkward, but instead it just felt thoughtful.

"Do you think you are ever going to amount to anything?" Castiel said, breaking the silence.

"Sure," Dean said, smirking a bit. "Probably end up as some big TV star or something, having millions of fangirls admire my dashing good looks."

Castiel glanced at Dean then. "That seems very unlikely."

"What? You don't think I have dashing good looks?"

Castiel ignored him. "My brother told me today I'm not going to amount to anything." He took another drag of his cigarette.

Dean snorted. "What a righteous ass."

"I agree," Castiel said. "But Michael is an extremely successful lawyer, so I guess he has somewhat earned having an opinion on the matter."

"Well, fuck Michael and his fancy-schamcy success as a lawyer," Dean said, shrugging. "That why you're out here? Usually you'd be partying it up in there, huh?" He stuck a thumb in the direction of the door.

"I would usually be getting drunk," Castiel said. "But tonight, I felt like staring at this blank space of wall."

"Huh," Dean said. "You gonna write something profound on it?"

Castiel glanced at Dean. "Maybe at a later date."

"Huh," Dean said. Dean could tell that Castiel was getting ready to go back in, putting out his cigarette with his shoe. Dean wanted to say something, wanted to make Castiel like Dean. "Fuck Michael, right. By the sounds of it, you don't need your family anyway."

Instead of it making Castiel like Dean, it seemed to do the opposite. Something in Castiel seemed to have sparked, and Dean could feel the anger rising in him. Before Dean could say anything, Castiel had grabbed Dean and shoved him against the wall. Dean felt the brick hitting his back, felt Castiel enclosing on his personal space, his face close to his face, their breaths twining together. He was acutely aware of Castiel's lips so, so near Dean's. The tension seemed palpable, and for one of the first times in the night, Dean looked straight into Castiel's blue eyes.

"You don't know anything about my family," Castiel practically growled. "You shouldn't talk like you do, Dean."

"Well, sorry, Cas," Dean said, sounding indignant. "But this Michael guy sounds like a complete ass, and you obviously don't need that in your life. So excuse the fuck out of me if I said something that offended you." Dean suddenly felt annoyed, irritated, that Castiel would react so emotionally to one simple statement. "Now get off me."

Castiel looked straight into Dean's eyes for a few seconds longer, and Dean didn't know if Castiel was genuinely angry at him or if he was debating whether or not to jump Dean's bones. Unfortunately it wasn't the second, and Castiel backed off Dean's space.

"Family is a…sensitive topic for me, Dean," Cas said. "And I am not sorry for my reaction."

Castiel was still staring at Dean, and Dean swore, he swore, that he saw Castiel glance down at Dean's lips. He wasn't completely sure, but the thought still made Dean smirk inwardly.

"You usually go all Hulk like that then?" Dean said. "Should I be expecting that more often?"

Castiel frowned. "You should not be expecting anything. I don't know if we will be talking again."

And, well ouch. That hurt. "Well then, Hulk in a Trenchcoat. I'll see you never, then."

Cas tilted his head. "I said, I don't know if we will be talking again. I didn't say we would never be talking again." He turned to go inside, and then looked back at Dean. "I'll see you, Dean." Then he walked inside, back to the party, back to the bad music.

Dean leaned against the wall and thought back to the Castiel's freaking blue eyes right up in his personal space, and thought, oh yes you will.

A/N: It would be totally lovely if you could review.