Title: The Trenchcoat Avenger of Truman High

Author: rons_pigwidgeon

Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel

Rating: NC17

Warnings: Nothing for now, but later chapters are gonna be chocked full of the sex. You've been warned.

Chapter Summary: Dean and Cas spend their time apart learning more about each other over the phone.

Author's Note: Possible triggers for child abuse. It's mild and mostly falls in line with what has already been shown in the show, but still thought I'd warn. This chapter ended up a lot more emotional than I anticipated. I don't think I'm sorry about it, though.

This chapter contains some dialogue paraphrased from Supernatural, Season 9 - Episode 7: "Bad Boys"br /
Writing Credits: Eric Kripke (creator) Adam Glass (writer)


"Alright, you boys good for now?" John asks, slinging his duffel over his shoulder. Dean looks to Sam, internally sighing as he sees Sam's face fall. He knew their dad would be leaving. They didn't come to Utah for no reason. There's a string of murders in the mountains north of town that need solving. They're set up for school. There's food in the fridge. Dean's got the bus schedule. There's no other reason for him to stay.

"We're good," Dean answers. John nods and turns towards the door.

"Alright, watch out for each other. And Dean?" He turns, narrows in on Dean. "No skipping school this time, got it? You're on thin ice as it is. I don't want to come back to a truancy officer, got it?"

Dean rubs his eyes, nodding. "Yes, sir."

"Bye, Dad," Sam offers in a fading voice.

John gives him a half-smile. "See you later, boys. Call me if you need anything."

Sam turns to Dean as the door closes behind their dad, frowning. "He couldn't stay for a day?"

"You know how it is, Sammy. People are dying. I want him here as much as you do, but he has a job to do."

"I know. I'd just like to have him around once in a while."

"Yeah, I get it, Sammy. Wanna go get a pizza later?"

"Sure, I guess. Wanna watch tv?"

"Yeah, sure. You pick whatever. I'm gonna make a quick call." Dean wants to hang out with his little brother, he does, but he's been thinking about the piece of paper in his shirt pocket for days, and this is his first opportunity to use it out of earshot of John. He doesn't necessarily want to hide anything from his dad, but this just... feels like something private. Sam slumps onto the couch and turns the tv on, giving Dean a sullen look he plans to wipe off Sam's puppy face as soon as he's off the phone, but for now he takes out his cell and heads to the bathroom to lean against the sink and fish out the slip of paper. It's a post-it note with Cas' impeccable handwriting. Cursive—who writes in cursive after the third grade?—all loopy and elegant like he's in a Dickens novel. Dean can only just make out the numbers, and he's never even seen an email address in cursive before. He dials the number and hits send after staring at it for half a minute, wondering if this is right.

"Hello?" a boy's voice asks. It's not Cas, but maybe Jacob?

"Hey, uh, is Cas around?"

"Whom may I say is calling?"

"Uh... Dean. Dean Winchester."

"CASTIEL! DEAN WINCHESTER'S ON THE PHONE!" the boy shouts, thankfully away from the phone. Dean hears footsteps and murmuring.

"Thank you, Phillip," Cas' voice says quietly as the phone exchanges hands. "Hello, Dean," he says into the phone, his voice warm and soft over the line. Dean hadn't realized how much he was missing the sound of Cas' voice until he heard it again.

"Hey," he says. He glances at his reflection in the side wall mirror and is horrified to find himself blushing.

"I'm relieved to hear your voice. I was beginning to think you had lost the number."

"Yeah, sorry about that. We've been in the car for the last couple days. I didn't really want to talk with Dad right next to me, you know?"

"I do. I assume you are out of the car now?"

"Yeah, we're in a motel for now. Start school back tomorrow. Dad's already off to work. Sammy's bummed about it, but we gotta eat somehow, right?"

"Yes, a means of feeding oneself and one's family is important. Where are you?"

"Some backwoods town in Utah. Price or something? I don't know."

"Are there mountains?"

"Yeah, I think I can see them from the window."

"I've never seen mountains before. They must be beautiful." The level of awe in his voice is a little unnerving. Dean's never really thought about it before, that mountains—or any landmark for that matter—could be beautiful.

"I guess. Never traveled anywhere with mountains before?"

"I've never traveled at all. It's difficult to do with seven children and the farm to take care of. We've taken road trips to Michigan to see my aunt and uncle and their family, but that's it. I would love to travel like you do."

"Maybe we can take a road trip some time when I get a car."

"A road trip? Together? I think I would like that. Where would we go?"

"Wherever you want to go. I've been all over the country." There's a loud crashing sound from the tv, and Dean peaks out around the door to see Sam still curled up on the couch, looking as sullen as ever. "Hey, how about you think about where you want to go, and we'll talk about it tomorrow? I've got a sulky Sammy on the couch, and I gotta spend some time with him, or he'll be impossible to deal with in the morning."

"Of course, Dean. Does that mean you will call tomorrow?"

"Yeah, 'course. You got anything going on after school? I could call then."

"I have chess club until 4:30. It would be better if you called after dinner, though. I currently have three siblings attempting to listen in on this conversation. If you were to call after dinner, they would all be too busy getting ready for bed to eavesdrop."

Dean chuckles, imagining the scene. "Why you wanna be alone, Cas? You gonna whisper dirty things in my ear?"

"Perhaps. I would at least like the option."

All the blood in his body suddenly and dramatically travels to his dick. "Yeah, I definitely want you to have that option, too. How about you call me when the coast is clear?"

"I do not have your phone number."

"Got a pen?"

"I do."

Dean gives him the number, and he reads it back to make sure he has it correct. Ever the perfectionist. Dean wonders if he wrote it in cursive. Could you write numbers in cursive? "Can you write numbers in cursive?" he asks.

Cas laughs. "Not in the traditional cursive that is taught in schools, but perhaps in calligraphy. Why?"

"Just wondering. Talk to you tomorrow, then?"

"I look forward to it. Tell Sam hello for me."

"Will do. Talk to you later." He hangs up, smiling down at the phone as the screen clears, rubbing his thumb over the keyboard. What am I doing? he thinks, shaking his head at himself. He pockets the phone and heads back into the room. Sam watches him make his way over to flop on the couch next to him.

"Who'd you have to call?"

"Your girlfriend."

"Dean."

"Sammy."

Sam kicks him, making the bitch face of all bitch faces. Dean grabs his leg and twists it behind his butt, making Sam twist almost off the couch, crying out and shoving Dean's shoulder. They wrestle for a little while until Dean finally pins Sam to the back of the couch and holds him there. "Try a little harder next time, small fry," he says, letting go with a hard pat to Sam's back. Sam squirms around until he's sitting on the couch again, pouting. Dean rolls his eyes and gets up to grab a coke. "Stop pouting, you baby. I was just talking to Cas."

"Cas? Castiel Novak?"

"Yeah."

"Why?"

"Because he doesn't ask me five thousand pointless questions or pout like an eight-year-old."

"I hate you," Sam grumbles, glaring.

"I know you do. Now shut up and watch the movie." Sam huffs, but does as he's told. Dean drinks his coke and tries to concentrate on the movie, but his brain keeps flashing back to Cas.


"How is your new school?" Cas asks.

"Boring. If I didn't worry about Sammy, I wouldn't be going anymore."

"You can't quit. Having a high school diploma is important."

"And why is that, Cas? Did you forget the part where I'm not going to college?"

"Where do you plan to take your automotive engineering courses? Community colleges require at least a GED."

Dean rolls his eyes, grateful Cas can't see him. "I was going to work for Bobby. He doesn't care if I have a diploma or a GED."

"Dean."

"Cas."

There's a very loud sigh of resignation on the other end. Dean can sense Cas' frustration from across the country. "You're just bating me, aren't you? You won't leave school until you have no other choice. Sam's still there."

"You have a point. I don't know if I'll have much more of a choice, though. They almost didn't let me into this one. My grades aren't exactly awesome."

"Oh." The line goes quiet, and Dean's just about to ask how the Novaks are doing when Cas speaks again. "If you do not finish your senior year, will you at least get your GED? I know it isn't important to you, but I would feel better knowing you had it to fall back on if you need to later. I'm sure Sam would agree with me."

"Cas..."

"Please, Dean?"

Dean rubs at his forehead and pinches his mouth closed. Eventually, he caves. "Yeah, Cas, I'll get my GED. You better give me a really good reward for it, though. Really good."

"Don't worry, I'm sure I can think of something." His voice goes all deep and gravely in a way that sets Dean's whole body on fire. Dean has to adjust his jeans uncomfortably and block out thoughts about Cas rewarding him. Sam's in the room for fuck's sake. Sam gives him a wary look from the other side of the room before going back to his book. Dean's going to make him put it away as soon as he's off the phone with Cas, and they're going to watch some tv for a while. He's done nothing but read since they left Indiana.

"Anything new on your end? How's Claire doing?"

Cas' mood shifts and Dean can hear the smile now. "She is fine. She asks me about you constantly. She hasn't quite come to understand that you no longer live here. My mother is confused by her insistence that you come visit again."

"I'm not. I'm pretty irresistible."

"Yes, you're like a car accident in that way."

"Watch it. Insults might get you laid."

"DEAN," Sam says urgently, glaring.

Dean just laughs at him and waves him off. "Pull the stick out, Sammy. I was only kidding."

"You are a pervert," Cas confirms.

"Thanks, Cas."

"You're welcome."

Dean doesn't want to hang up, but he doesn't really have anything else to talk about that doesn't involve telling Cas about the ghost twins they salted and burned last week, and he knows he can't talk about that. Even if it was totally badass. "I should probably let you get back to studying. I need to take Sammy's book away and make him do something normal and not nerdy anyway." This earns him another glare from Sam, who pulls his book closer and turns his shoulder away from Dean.

Cas chuckles softly. "Alright. I'll talk to you soon, I guess."

"I'll call you tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow it is, then. Good night."

"Night, Cas." He hangs up and gets up, stalking over to the bed Sam's camped out on and snatching the book from him. Sam jumps him to try and grab it back, but he's too short to reach, and Dean just laughs at him.

"DEAN! Give it back!"

"Try again, short stack. Let's watch the game. You need to de-nerd for a while."

Sam smacks his stomach and scowls. "I hate you."

"Yeah, yeah, come on." He grabs Sam around the neck and pulls him over to the couch. The book gets forgotten within a few minutes.


"Hello?" a tiny voice says into his ear. He grins even though no one but Sam's around to see him.

"Hey Claire-bear. Do you know who this is?" he asks.

"I don't think so. Who are you?"

"It's Dean, Castiel's friend?"

"Dean!"she squeals, and he can hear her little feet jumping up and down on the hall carpet. "Hi, Dean! I missed you! When are you coming back to see us? Castiel misses you, too, and Elizabeth has been asking about you, and I made a picture of Jesus for you, and I learned how to hold my cards up all by myself, so you have to come and play Go Fish with me and..."

Dean knows if he doesn't stop her, she'll go on for forever, so he clears his throat. "I'm really proud of you. Did you have Cas teach you? I wish I could come and play with you, but I'm all the way in Arizona."

"Where's Arizona?"

"Far, far away from where you are. Maybe when school gets over I'll drive back and visit for a while. Would you like that?"

"YES! You can bring your sleeping bag and sleep on my floor, and we can have a slumber party, and maybe Mommy will make cookies, and we can play Candyland and Hungry Hungry Hippos and Go Fish."

"Who are you talking to, Claire?" Dean hears Cas' voice coming up to the phone. He glances over at Sam, who has the most bewildered face on, staring at him over his homework.

"Dean! He's going to come see us when school's out and we're going to have a sleepover!"

"Is that right? Would you mind if I talk to him?"

"Okay. Bye, Dean!" Claire shouts into his ear. Dean winces, but manages to say goodbye back to her before Cas' voice takes her over.

"Hello, Dean."

"Hey, Cas."

"I hope you plan on making good on your promise to Claire. I can hear her already telling my mother all about your visit."

"I'm going to try. I don't really have a car of my own, but I'm trying to get some money together to buy a fixer-upper."

"You know how to build a car from the frame up?"

"Yeah, probably. I haven't had the chance to try yet, but I bet I could. Why?"

"I believe I might find that an... attractive trait." Cas' voice dips at the admission.

"You're an attractive trait," Dean replies, smirking. Sam clenches his jaw and glares at him. Dean just smirks wider and flicks him off.

"Did I hear Claire say you were in Arizona?"

"That's right, for a couple weeks now. I think we'll be moving on soon, though."

"They have excellent antique cars, if I understand correctly. The dry air preserves their engines better."

"Yeah, less rust, too, without the salt when it snows."

"Would you possibly try to purchase something while you're there, and restore it?"

"Would it turn you on if I did?"

"I believe I would like to watch you work."

"Well, I'll just have to wait until I can have you around to watch, won't I?"

"You will."


Dean doesn't follow Sammy into the house they're squatting at, deciding to call Cas instead. It's been a few days—he's been putting it off because he knows Cas won't like his news—but he can't ignore the need to talk to his friend anymore. He pulls the phone out of his coat pocket and dials. Elizabeth answers, nervous as soon as she hears Dean's name, and has Cas on the phone within seconds. "Hello, Dean. It's good to hear your voice."

"Yeah? You miss me?"

"I always miss talking to you. How are you?"

"I uh... I've got some news. I don't think you're going to like it."

"Oh?"

"Yeah, I've got good news and bad news. Which you want?"

"Bad first. Hopefully the good will make up for it if the good is told afterwards."

"I'm officially a drop-out. When we switched schools this time, they wouldn't let me in, said my grades showed I had 'no interest in furthering my education'. Dad didn't even try to argue."

"You're father cares so little for your education that he did not even attempt to force the school to permit your attendance?"

"I'm eighteen now. They said I was a legal adult and they weren't required to take me."

"And this doesn't bother you?"

"Not really. School was just a waste of time for me anyway. It's not like I paid attention or anything. Now I have time to help Dad work."

"You aren't going to get your GED, then? I recall your making me a promise."

"I'll get it eventually. Sam's been trying to talk me into getting a job so we can get money the 'honest way', but I don't see anything wrong with hustling pool."

"I thought your father worked."

Shit. Dean hesitates before answering. "He does, but he uh... he doesn't get paid a lot for what he does."

"What does he do, exactly? You said he's a mechanic, but I've never heard of a traveling mechanic."

"You haven't asked me what the good news is," Dean says, hoping to deter him. He really doesn't have a good answer to Cas' question.

"I am going to pretend you did not just deflect my question and ask what the good news is."

"Dad gave me the Impala for my birthday."

"You're father makes no effort to keep you in school, and then gives you a car as a reward? This makes very little sense to me, Dean." Cas' tone is suspicious and maybe a little angry, though Dean can't figure out why.

Dean's heart sinks. He had been hoping Cas would be excited. With the Impala, he could visit now. They could go on road trips together. He might even be able to convince his pious friend to have sex in the back. But Cas didn't sound happy. Dean thought he might be a step away from insulting John, which was not something Dean could tolerate, even from Cas. "He said it was a rite of passage. I'm a man now, and I should have something to show for it."

"And a diploma wouldn't have been a more befitting prize."

"Dude, why do you even care? You've only known me for like three months. "

"Dean, I have already explained to you that I care about you. You are such an intelligent person, Dean. I want you to reach your full potential. I worry that you are going to have a much more difficult time in life without a high school diploma. Will you promise me that you will at least get your GED? I know you said you would before, but I will not feel content until I know that you will."

"If it means that much to you, sure. I'll get my diploma. I don't get what the big deal is, though. I'm not like you, Cas. I'm not smart enough to go to college, and even if I was, we can't afford it. And who would take care of Sammy while I did?"

"Dean Winchester, you are smart enough to do anything you set your mind to. I cannot stand how self-deprecating you are. Do you know how brilliant you are? You could have been an honor roll student if you had paid even a moment of attention. With your upbringing, you could have qualified for enough scholarships and financial aid to pay for college in full. I would have helped you. I already have preliminary research on several colleges that would have worked with you."

Dean clenches the hand not holding the phone around the steering wheel, gripping tight enough to ache. He just wants Cas to shut up about college and talk about something else, but he knows Cas isn't going to give this up. "What about Sammy?" he asks, because there's no way Cas can have an answer for him.

"Why doesn't your father take care of your brother? He's an adult, and Sam is his child, not yours. He should already be doing that. He should be taking care of both of you."

"He can't. He has to work."

"Then Sam can live with you. There are scholarships that include a housing stipend."

Dean pulls his hand from the steering wheel and pinches the bridge of his nose, trying to hold back the frustration and anger that's bubbling. He's never been mad at Cas before, but all this college talk is too much. "Yeah, and I'm sure I'd get those. Thanks for caring, Cas, but I'm good. College isn't for me. I'll get my GED if it'll make you happy, but I uh... I gotta go, okay? We just got in, and I gotta get Sammy some dinner. Call you tomorrow?"

"Okay. You promise you'll call?"

"Yeah, Cas, of course I'll call."

"Until tomorrow, then."

Dean hangs up without saying goodbye and has to resist the urge to throw the phone. He doesn't need to have to get another one on top of everything else. He gets out of the car and stalks away into the woods surrounding the house. When he steps back out ten minutes later, he's scratched up, red-faced, and blotchy, and there are tears in his eyes, but he feels better. He rubs the moisture from his eyes and takes deep breaths until he feels calm enough to face Sammy without giving anything away. He retrieves his phone and keys from the Impala and walks into the house.


"Did we have our first fight last night?"

"Yeah, I think we did."

"Are you mad at me?"

"Yeah—no—I don't know. I'm just mad, I guess. Believe it or not, I didn't want to be a high school drop-out."

"Then, why didn't you fight harder for it? It's like you gave up."

"I did. There's no point fighting the tide, Cas. I'm not made for school."

"I don't know why you think being intelligent is a something of which you should be ashamed. Sam tries hard in school. What happened to make you not?"

Dean sighs, scrubs a hand over his face, and takes a seat on the steps of the house. "I did once. It didn't work out."

"What happened, Dean?"

Dean picks at a hole in his jeans, trying to find the words. Should he even tell Cas? What's it going to prove, that he was dumb enough to get himself arrested? That he's a juvenile delinquent? Cas'll never want to talk to him again. Maybe that's for the best, he thinks and starts talking. "When I was sixteen, Dad put us up in this cabin in upstate New York so he could go out on a job. I was stupid and lost the food money in a card game. I knew Sammy was gonna get hungry, so I tried for the five-finger discount at the gas station. I got caught and got sent to a boy's home for a couple months. The guy who ran it, Sonny, he's pretty cool, and he kept pushing me to straighten up and fly right. So I did. I was getting good grades. I joined the wrestling team, even won the county wrestling championship. I even had a girlfriend, Robin. I've never told anyone, but she was my first kiss. She taught me how to play guitar, too. She was awesome. We were gonna go to the school dance together and everything."

"What happened?"

"Dad came for me. He'd left me there to learn my lesson for losing the food money and stealing, I guess, but the night of the school dance, there he was. Him and Sammy. Sonny offered to let me stay, said he'd fight my dad on it and everything. I really wanted to stay, too. I was finally out, you know? Hell, Sonny didn't even care when I told him I thought I might be bi. He was really a great guy. Told me he was proud of me. No one had ever said that to me before. It was... it was awesome. I was really happy there, you know? If I'd stayed, I'd probably still be in school, might even be thinking about college, who knows."

"Why didn't you stay? This Sonny sounds like an excellent influence. I know you dislike traveling so much, despite what you might say. You could have had a home."

"Yeah, but I couldn't leave Sammy, could I? I looked out the window, and there he was, playing with this stupid toy fighter jet we'd found at a truck stop a couple years before. He looked so little, you know? And I couldn't leave him with Dad all alone. Dad needed someone to take care of Sammy when he was gone, and Sammy needed me to protect him." Dean brushes the stupid water from his eyes and wills the tears to stop.

"Protect him from whom? Your father?"

Oh course Cas would get right to the heart of things. Reluctantly, Dean mutters, "Yeah..."

There's the loud sound of something hard smacking onto a flat surface, and Cas doesn't say anything for a minute. "I'm sorry, Dean. I'm so sorry," he says finally, voice soft and cracking at the edges.

Dean has to find a way to brush it off before Cas starts crying, and he fucking loses it again. "Hey, it's not all bad. If I'd stayed with Sonny, I never would have met you."

"I'm glad I met you, too, Dean. You are very special to me." The yawning pit of sadness in Dean's stomach gets a little bit smaller at the warm way Cas says his name, and all his anger and frustration melt away.

"Don't get all gushy on me, Cas. We've had enough girl talk for the night. Tell me what's going on with you."

"There isn't much to tell, I guess..." Cas begins telling him about the mundane, his family, school. It's nice—normal—and Dean is able to forget his own problems for just a little while and focus on his friend.


"You've been on that phone a lot, boy. You got a girl I don't know about?"

Dean sputters in his head. He thought he'd been subtle about talking to Cas, calling him mostly when his dad was out, never talking long if Cas called while his dad was there. "No, sir," he answers, because Cas might be a lot of things to him, but a girl he is not.

"Then who is it?"

"Just a friend."

"This 'friend' a hunter?"

"No, Dad, just a high school kid. Met him in Indiana. Sam's friends with him, too."

Sam shoots him a look from across the motel room that screams that Dean should shut his mouth and keep him out of it, but it's too late, even if Dean had been inclined to listen to him. John has turned to Sam, hunched over his homework on the farthest bed. "That true?"

"Yes, sir. I had study hall with Cas. He's a nice guy."

"How come you aren't playing telephone with this 'Cas', too then, if you're all such good friends with this boy I've never met?"

"He's Dean's age. They spent more time together. And just because you haven't met him, that doesn't make him bad. You haven't met a lot of the kids we meet. You'd have to be around for more than a day or two to meet any of them." And oh, the tone. Dean can feel his dad's anger bubbling from the bed. Dean would be glad the conversation is no longer on Cas except for the damage control he's about to be dealing with.

"What did you just say to me, boy? You watch your tone with me. You aren't too old to get your ass beat for talk like that."

"I'm just telling the truth, Dad. You're never around. It's not fair for you to flip out about Dean or I having friends you don't know when you're barely here enough to know us, let alone our friends!"

It is the wrong thing to say, not that there was a right thing at this point in the conversation. The ensuing fight is so loud they get a noise complaint from the manager and Dean has a split lip from stepping in front of a back-hand meant for Sam. Once Sammy's asleep and John's at the bar, he goes outside and calls Cas, because all he really wants right now is to be back at that farmhouse, playing board games in the basement with his best friend.

"Hello, Dean," comes Cas' voice over the line. It's deeper every time Dean talks to him, and makes him want to get in the Impala and drive back to Indiana, if only to get another kiss.

"Hey, Cas, how are you?"

"I am well, Dean. How are you? You sound upset."

"I'm not upset, just... Dad and Sam had another fight, and I just. I just wish they could see eye-to-eye, you know? I'm tired of having to get between them all the time."

"Are you hurt?"

"Just a split lip, no big deal. Sam said Dad was trying to control our lives too much, and Dad got all pissy about Sam talking back and went to smack him, and I got in the way."

"You shouldn't have to shield your brother from violence, Dean. If you want to, you could come stay here. My parents might be religious, but they would never turn away someone who needed shelter."

"No. Thanks, Cas, but no. Dad needs us. He's already lost Mom. He'd fall apart without us there."

"And that gives him the right to talk to you the way he does? To hit you? And what about Sam? Does he deserve to be treated that way, too?"

"No, of course not, but I can't... He's our dad, Cas. He's the only family we got besides each other. We can't just turn our backs on him. Besides, he's doing the best he can to keep us safe the only way he knows how."

"I know how you feel, Dean. I understand. I just want you safe."

"I am. I can take care of myself, and Sam. I know you don't like him, but Dad's just trying to protect us." Cas snorts from the other end of the phone. Dean smiles to himself, scuffing his toe on the concrete. "Enough about me, how are you doing?"

"I am well, excellent actually. I've received acceptance letters from the University of Notre Dame, Georgetown University, Boston College, and the University of Chicago."

"That's awesome, dude! Where are you going to go?"

"I haven't decided yet. I have received good offers from all four. My parents would like me to go to Georgetown, but they also want me to become a senator, and I am not... that way inclined."

Dean tries to imagine Castiel as a senator, stern-faced and speaking earnestly about the 'real issues', but all he can do is shake his head. Castiel might be smart enough and persistent enough to be a politician—and Dean has to shift his jeans thinking about Cas in a monkey suit—but he has the charisma of a wet blanket. "Dude, no. That's like, the worst idea ever."

"Agreed."

"So, what do you want to do?"

"You would make fun of me if I told you."

Dean grins even though Cas can't see him. "Oh no, you have to tell me now. This is going to out-nerd Sam, isn't it?" There's muttering on the other end, too jumbled and low for Dean to make sense of. "Say again?"

Castiel sighs, and it sounds to Dean like he might be in actual pain. "I think I would like to be a librarian."

Dean starts laughing so hard he has to crouch down against the wall. He can hear Cas grumbling when he settles down enough to listen. He chuckles a few final times and then straightens up, clearing his throat. "I'll have to get you some cardigans."

"Dean—"

"Maybe some of those tweed jackets with the patches on the elbows."

"DEAN—"

"Hey, maybe we could play naughty librarian. I could turn in some really overdue library books, you could punish me..."

"I knew I shouldn't have told you."

"Aw, Cas, don't be like that. I'm sorry, really. If you want to be a librarian, I'm 100% behind you. Which school has that... degree?"

"Being a librarian requires a Master's degree, but you can get your undergraduate degree in any subject beforehand. I am thinking of getting a degree in linguistics, or possibly double-majoring in linguistics and literature."

"Linguistics? Like languages?"

"Yes. I am already fluent in Spanish, French, and Latin. I would like to learn more."

"You speak Latin?"

"Yes."

"Like Latin Latin? Or Pig Latin?"

He can sense Cas clenching his jaw, but there's a hint of amusement in there, too. "The original."

Dean's first thought is for hunting. Bobby knows Latin. "That's kind of hot," he says, because of course he can't tell Castiel about hunting. And while it's not hot for Bobby to speak Latin, Dean can only imagine hearing it out of Cas' mouth.

"I thought you were going to make fun of me again."

"It's geeky, I'll give you that. But you being smart isn't exactly a turn-off, you know?"

"Thank you, Dean."

"You're welcome." Dean looks up at the sound of a car heading coming down the road and glances up to see the truck his dad bought when he gave Dean the Imapala heading towards him. He clears his throat. "Hey Cas, I gotta go. I'll call you tomorrow?"

"I look forward to it."

"And Cas? If it's any help, I like Chicago."

"And why is that?"

"We go through there a lot."

"I'll keep that in mind, Dean. Good night." Cas' voice has gone warm and soft, a matching warmth flickering in Dean's chest hearing it.

He smiles to himself. "Night, Cas." He flips the phone closed and slips it into his back pocket just as the truck pulls into the parking lot and parks in front of him. John narrows his eyes at Dean as he gets out of the car.

"Talking to that boy again?" he asks. He looks a little tipsy, but not drunk. It's something.

Dean stiffens, not ready to have this argument all over again. "Yes, sir."

John looks at him long and hard before asking: "You tell him about hunting?"

"Of course not, sir. Cas' a civilian." John looks like he's going to badger Dean more, but Dean keeps talking. "Look, Dad, Cas is my friend, but that's it. I'm not going to tell him about hunting. I won't let him get in the way of hunting. Or taking care of Sam. He's just someone I talk to about, you know, normal stuff."

"'Normal stuff'?" The incredulousness in his voice rankles Dean, but he pushed the annoyance aside.

"You know, travelling, music, tv. We were just talking about which college Cas is going to. Normal stuff."

John eyes him warily. Dean thinks maybe he doesn't believe him, maybe he senses the way Dean can't think about Cas without remembering the kiss they'd shared and trying to figure out when the soonest he can get back to Indiana is. Whether he does or doesn't, it's obvious that his father isn't happy. "You should stop talking to that boy. You'll slip up, tell him something he shouldn't hear. You're a hunter. Hunter's don't have friends outside of the life."

Dean frowns, looking down at his phone. He doesn't want to have to stop talking to Cas, but he will if his father orders him to. "Is that an order, sir?"

"Call it a suggestion."

"Yes, sir," Dean says with relief. Suggestion means that if he stops calling Cas as much he doesn't have to stop calling him all together. Suggestion is better. Dean slides the phone back in his pocket and follows his father into the room.