Castiel Novak's father was a pastor internationally famous for his sermons offering grace and happiness. Unfortunately, he became internationally famous by touring his lectures often, sometimes leaving home for months at a time. His wife had died giving birth to Castiel, so when father was gone, Zachariah was in charge.

Castiel didn't like it when his dad was gone.

Luckily, this year Castiel developed the habit of sleeping over at the Winchester's. In seventh grade, when Castiel's father first found success, all of the Novak children transferred from Trinity Private Academy of Learning, to (try not to be sick) public school. Walking into Madison Middle School, Castiel felt many things. Nervous, terrified, embarrassed, dumb. He was a puddle of anxiety.

But that was before he got assigned Dean Winchester as a lab partner.

"You're new, right?" Dean blinked, then scratched his face.

Castiel's mouth felt like cotton. He nodded. Dean smiled.

"Hi. I'm Dean Winchester. I was new here last year, so don't even stress. You'll get the hang of it soon."

As it turned out, Castiel did not get the hang of it at all. He could read a 800 paged book in a day, but he couldn't read social cues to save his life. He was a math person, a history buff, a science geek, but not a people person. So basically the opposite of Dean.

"What's your favorite book?" Castiel asked Dean one day in second semester, after spending all of first and second period trying to come up with a conversation starter. Dean just snorted.

"Uh, I don't read."

Castiel furrowed his eye brows, "I don't understand." Dean couldn't hold back a quick laugh.

"I don't like to read. I like to do other things, like explore the town, or see movies, or take Lindsey Holt to Pizza Planet."

Castiel was thoughtful for a moment before he spoke again, "Could I . . . possibly come along?"

Dean smirked, "Gee Cas, the tables at Pizza Planet are really made for two."

Castiel- newly Cas- tried to smother the blush threatening to creep onto his cheeks. "I meant-"

Slowly his smile spread into a good natured grin, "I know what you meant. And my brother is making me go see this weird nerdy alien movie tonight, so you should show up at 7:00 so we can get the best seats."

And suddenly they were friends.

Dean, of course, had a million friends, and the number only grew as he and Cas graduated to high school. There were only two types of people in Monroe High: Those who wanted to be Dean, and those who wanted to do him.

Excluding Cas, obviously.

Usually.

Occasionally.

Like the moments when Dean, Cas, and Sam would be playing Monopoly, and Dean would blatantly cheat, yet when Cas began to scold him he would just widen his glorious, summer-grass shade eyes and expect to get away with it. Cas did not tolerate cheating, and especially not losing. So he would get flustered, and upset, and then he and Dean would start bickering, and Sam would throw up his hands and go find a snack in the kitchen until however long it took them to make nice. Cas did not want to be or do Dean in those moments. He wanted to punch him.

And then do him.

Yes, Castiel Novak was a living, breathing cliché. In love with his oblivious best friend. His obviously, hot, funny, secretly sweet, best friend.