Hellooooo!

(Sorry for the wait. But I'm back now.)

First, thank you all very much for all your reviews and alerts and favourites- I'm so glad y'all are enjoying this story~!

So here's an update on how the story is progressing with me: I'm currently writing chapter seven and almost done, and I'll get typed up up to there soon. I'll be posting new chapters every four days, so if you're hoping for earlier, eh, well, sorry.

Anyway, it's going to be a very long story, apparently. But I am SO excited. Like, you cannot believe. So. Excited. It ain't gonna be all cuteness and flirting, though~- I do have some real plot planned out. Like, not exactly of the happy variety. Ehehehe. (But nothing too bad, I promise. I'm kind of writing this as mild respite from all the mega-painful stuff I've been reading lately.)

Slang dictionary at the bottom.

As always, I thrive off your feedback, be it negative or positive. So if you read/follow/favourite, please just drop me a line in a review, my PM box, my tumblr, etc, whether your thoughts be critical or supportive.

Thanks for reading, and enjoy chapter three!

In their first act of kindness to him all year, Michael and Lucifer offer to take Castiel to the movies. Anna begs to tag along, and so does Gabriel. Their parents decide their children can't go alone, so it ends up being a family affair.

Castiel refuses to let his mother choose his clothes, even though this is his first official social outing in Kansas. He likes to think that he's grown-up enough at 17 to select what he'll be wearing.

He ends up in a pale rose collared shirt that supposedly brings out the colour in his cheeks and a light green sweatervest that reminds him of the glint of Dean's eyes. Instead of brushing his hair down, he uses his hand to ruffle it up and it remains that way: all angles and curves sticking up darkly from his head.

He smiles at his reflection and follows his family out.

The movie theatre is small and half-empty. Anna is giggling excitedly about the main character in the film and Gabriel catches sight of some of his friends and goes to talk to them. Michael and Lucifer are talking business with their father whilst their mother listens politely and pretends to understand.

And then Castiel sees them.

They walk with identical swaggers, trailing cigarette smoke behind them. They laugh just a little too loud; their playful shoves at each other are just a little too strong.

Castiel knows what they are, and his breath catches in his throat as the word "greasers" whirls through his mind.

And there he is. Dean. At the head of the group. He has his arm slung around the shoulders of a thin, pretty girl with dark hair who clutches at him like her life depends on it. Castiel sees how easy they are around each other as they grin and look into each others' eyes and feels faintly sick without quite knowing why.

The group takes seats at the front of the theatre, and just as he is about to sit, Dean turns his head and sees Castiel staring.

Castiel instantly flushes and ducks his head, but Dean's lips curl up into a small smile and he nods to acknowledge Cas's presence. Castiel does his best to smile back, and Dean turns away.

Dean's first thought is that Cas looks miserable.

He sees him with his family the second Dean walks in, wearing softly coloured shirts that hug his narrow frame perfectly. Dean almost forgets for a second that he's there with Alistair and Balthazar and Gordon and Jo and Ruby and Crowley and, of course, Lisa, and wants nothing more than to go over there and cheer him up.

His eldest brothers really are tall and blond. The short brother is engaged in an animated discussion with a few random Socs, and a pale redheaded girl hangs on the arm of her delicate-looking mother who, in turn, holds the arm of the severe, grey-haired father. Even in his own family, Cas is the odd one out.

Then Cas turns his head and his blue eyes burn into Dean, and the drone of Lisa's chattering fades away.

All Dean can do is send him a brief smile as Lisa drags him to a seat, practically throwing herself into his lap as she runs her hands through his hair and whispers sweet things.

Dean doesn't even notice this as Cas smiles back and looks a little less miserable.

Castiel can barely focus on the film. Anna is shivering delightedly beside him, and the twins are yawning—such entertainment is beneath them. The picture is something about adventure and peril, but still Castiel's interest is not piqued.

So he thinks of Dean, still not quite knowing why he is so fascinated by this boy he barely knows: by the freckled, golden skin, by the laughing endless eyes framed by long, fluttering eyelashes—

He is pulled out of his reverie by Anna's sudden whining. "Mother," she whispers, "I'm thirsty."

Castiel decides to take this opportunity. "I'll g-get you a C-coke," he whispers back and she beams at him, pressing a sweaty one-dollar-bill into his palm.

"Get me some popcorn," Gabriel requests, eyes still glued to the screen.

Castiel nods and slithers out of his seat. From the corner of his eye, he thinks he sees a figure from the greaser group up front leaving the theatre, too.

He makes it to the refreshment booth and breathes easily for the first time all night. He can never quite breathe deeply enough when he's with his family.

Just as Castiel gets into line, someone behind him clears their throat and a voice rasps, "Hey, ya, Cas."

He whirls around—and it's Dean.

"Dean!" Castiel says, a shocked smile tugging at his lips. "Hello."

"What's buzzin', cuzzin?" comes the incomprehensible reply, and Dean must sense Castiel's confusion, because he grins and clarifies, "Means 'how are you.' Or somethin' like it."

"Ah," Castiel says, and Dean reaches inside his pocket and fishes out a cigarette. "I'm doing well, I suppose." Which, considering Dean's presence, is an understatement.

Dean clamps the cigarette between his teeth and lights it. Castiel is transfixed. "Want one?" Dean offers, and Castiel shakes his head.

"No, thank you," he says politely, and Dean quietly laughs for reasons unclear to Cas.

"So you here with your family, then?" Dean asks, a wisp of smoke curling from his lips as he speaks.

"I am," Castiel replies guardedly. "My three brothers and sister. Who are you here with?"

Dean shrugs. "Some friends from the garage. My Sophie. And her friends."

The words hit Castiel like a weak blow to the gut, and he struggles to find a word for his emotions—he finally settles on "jealousy." Even though he has no idea if Sophie is Dean's secret sister. Or why he should even be feeling jealous.

Castiel has named one feeling, but he has no idea what to call the dozens more floating around inside of him.

He just knows he's never felt this way about someone before, even though he doesn't know what to call it.

"Oh," he says quietly, staring at his shoes. "Is—does Sophie go to Lawrence High?"

Dean puffs out a husky laugh and a cloud of smoke. "Her name is Lisa. 'Sophie' just means 'girlfriend.'" He suddenly looks awkward, too, and glances away with squinted, vague eyes. "Doesn't matter anyhow. I plan to end it tonight. Takin' her to the pictures is supposed to soften the blow."

"Oh!" Castiel says, trying to conceal his vindictive smile. "Er—is there any particular reason why you're ending this relationship?"

Dean regards him coolly, taking a long drag at the cigarette. "You writin' a book or somethin'?"

Castiel senses this means he's asking too many questions and blushes deeply. "S-sorry."

A chill tears through him and he prays Dean didn't notice the stutter. So far, Castiel hasn't stuttered once around Dean, and though he can't explain it, he's grateful.

"Don't worry about it, kid," Dean grins, and Castiel looks up again.

"I apologise for prying," he says anyway, and Dean's grin only widens.

"I said don't worry about it!" Dean repeats. He lightly nudges Castiel's foot with his own and adds, "You make the king's jive, by the way. Makin' me self-conscious."

Castiel blushes again and frowns. "I'm not sure I—"

Dean snickers. "What, did they not have slang where you're from? Means you talk pretty."

Dean's drawl and awful grammar make the most intoxicatingly charming combination. Castiel allows for a small smile and says, "Thank you, Dean. I usually don't, but…" He trails off.

"Yeah, so I've heard," Dean says, and Cas cocks his head curiously, wondering what Dean knows about him.

A loud grunt of impatience from the man behind the refreshments counter jolts their eyes away from each other. "You gonna buy anything or just make moon-eyes and hold up the line?" he snaps, and Dean flashes a cocky grin at him.

"Go ahead, Cas. You were here first."

Castiel thanks Dean and falteringly orders a large Coca-Cola and a popcorn, wincing with each stuttered syllable. He can feel Dean's gaze pricking curiously at the back of his neck, and shame burns at Cas's cheeks. He takes his refreshments and stumbles away, too timid to send Dean a parting smile.

But he hears Dean call, "See you 'round, Cas!" and buy two packs of cigarettes, a Coca-Cola, and three beers.

Castiel can't stop his smile, even as his brothers hiss "What took you so long?" and Castiel easily lies "G-got l-lost."

Dean's been meaning to end things with Lisa for ages, and he's not quite sure why he's suddenly brave enough to do it now.

He has the vague idea that it might have something to do with Cas.

The picture ends, and Dean sees the Miltons leaving, practically dragging Cas out. The kid barely has time to turn his mussed head and shoot Dean a weak smile that makes Dean's chest clench before he slips around the corner. Dean hears a car engine rumble and the Miltons are gone.

Dean shakes his head in disbelief. Poor kid.

He gives a small smile at the memory of just how damn cute Cas sounded with a stutter, and Lisa evidently thinks he's smiling at her, because she shifts in his lap, winds her arms around his neck, and purrs, "You ready to get out of here, honey?"

Dean makes a face. "Look, Lisa—"

She giggles and bends down to nibble at his earlobe. "'Less you wanna neck in public."

He gently bats her away. "Lisa—we're done."

Lisa's brown eyes grow wide. "What?" she breathes.

"I… I think it's time we parted ways, y'know?"

"What?" she shrieks. Her lips slide into a pout and start to tremble as she crawls off him. "What did I do wrong?"

"Nothing," Dean says hastily. "I just—I—"

"Whatever," she snaps. "I thought you loved me, Dean."

He wrinkles his nose. "Did I say that?"

"No," she whines, "I just… felt it. So… really? It's really over between us? After everything?"

Dean nods, and Lisa makes a wailing sound and storms out, screaming, "Fine! Good riddance!" over her shoulder.

Once she's gone, Dean exhales and closes his eyes. "That went well," he says dryly and pulls out a cigarette before striding out of the theatre.

He drives home alone, and when he gets there, Sammy's sitting at the table, poring over a massive textbook.

"Hi, Dean," Sam says upon hearing the front door open and close, not looking up from the book.

"Hey, ya, Sammy," Dean replies, making a beeline for the fridge and grabbing a beer. "What'cha workin' on?"

"Homework, obviously," Sam sighs. "My head's kinda starting to hurt from all these numbers." With an annoyed growl, he slams the book shut and gazes at Dean. "I give up. How was the picture?"

Dean shrugs, joining him at the table. "Alright, I guess."

"Did Lisa like it?" Sam had never much cared for Lisa, and Dean honestly didn't blame him.

Dean makes a face. "How should I know? We don't exactly make polite conversation when we're together." He ducks his head and adds, "I broke things off with her tonight, actually."

"Dean!" Sam gasps. "Really? That's great! I—I mean, um, I'm sorry," he corrects himself. "Why, what happened?"

"No, it is great," Dean admits. "I'm kinda glad it's over. Nothing happened, really. I was just… done. Y'know?"

Sam doesn't know, but nods anyway.

"And now I'm free to explore!" Dean concludes triumphantly. He takes a swig of his beer. "Ran into your friend, by the way."

Sam raises an eyebrow. "…Castiel? What was he doing there? He doesn't really seem like a Friday-night-movie kind of guy."

"He ain't," Dean confirms. "He was there with his family." He trails off, thinking of Cas's intense blue stare and blushing cheeks, and when he finally looks back at Sam, his smile is dreamy. "Your friend is one classy cat, didja know?"

Sam giggles at that, and Dean frowns.

"What?"

"I just thought you were about to say 'classy chassis,' is all."

Dean just smirks and takes another drink. "Well, he is that, too."

"Dean!" Sam scolds, but Dean just grins wider, even when he tries to put his feet up on the table and Sam pushes them back off.

Everything is looking up for Dean Winchester.

SLANG DICTIONARY:

What's buzzin', cuzzin'?: what's up

Sophie: girlfriend

Are you writing a book?: you're asking too many questions

You make the king's jive: you talk nicely

Classy cat: a well-mannered person

Classy chassis: someone with a good body