A/N: Prompt: "My friend dragged me to this party and I just saw my ex quick make out with me" from the tumblr of inthebackoftheimpala

Assholes like Bartholomew

At first, Dean was worried that everyone would be wearing pastel shorts, a polo, and boat shoes. His ripped jeans and flannel would stick out like a sore thumb. In reality, it was mostly t-shirts, and lots of skin.

Sigma Pi Nu was not a place he frequented regularly. In fact, he didn't really hang out with Greeks in general. Then Ash had revealed that he'd just been initiated into Sigma Pi Nu, and Dean was shocked. Their facebook photos were always so stuffy and proper. How the hell did Ash get in?

Then Ash showed him some of their pledge brothers, and all of Dean's preconceived notions fled. They had Kevin Tran, the seventeen-year-old genius, Adam Milligan, stoner extraordinaire, and Ed Zedmore, Magic the Gathering master, to name a few.

They had declared him a frat cousin and welcomed him with open arms.

It was noisier than Dean thought it would be, but he was perfectly content to stand relatively close to a group of Ash's friends and people watch. He wasn't buzzed per se—he'd only had one cup of the god awful jungle juice in his hand, which tasted like it was made of fruit punch and lighter fluid. He carried the second cup around, feeling the effects of the alcohol, incredibly unlike like the pleasant burn of a good whiskey.

After a little while, Dean unbuttoned a few buttons of his flannel. It was hot and honestly, there was a girl in a bikini somewhere, so he'd be fine. Several girls and a few guys threw a glance or two his way, and one girl talked to him.

"Haven't seen you here before," the brunette said.

"Haven't been here before," Dean replied. Or yelled. Like he said, it was noisy.

"Lisa," she introduced herself. She was pretty, very pretty, with a little blouse that screamed 'lady in the streets, freak in the sheets.' But for some reason, Dean wasn't feeling it.

The last several people he'd slept with were women, and he was starting to crave something else. The last guy he'd slept with had been in his senior year of high school, and even though Balthazar was a little shit, he'd been an amazing fuck. Dean had never felt so good that night, with a strong, masculine body beneath his.

He shook his head. Little Dean needed to stay in his seat until he made it back to his apartment.

The conversation with Lisa fizzled out quickly after that, and Dean was back to people watching. His eyes glazed over most of the crowd, until they settled upon a guy hiding behind a pool table.

Damn. The guy had a shock of messy black hair and his jeans were the perfect amount of tight. And that ass…

The guy peeked out from behind the table and seemed to panic, eyes sweeping the room until they found Dean's. Even from this distance, Dean could see their electric blue.

To Dean's surprise, the guy practically ran up to him, pushing people out of the way. Dean straightened up, curious but also curious. What was he running from, and what was he looking for?

"I need you to make out with me," the guy said, out of breath.

Dean blinked. He may have felt the everclear in his system, but he didn't expect that kind of thing to happen. "Huh?" his brain tried to catch up.

"Seriously," the guy threw a glance back over his shoulder and looked back, panic in his eyes. "Please, kiss me now."

Dean should protest, he knew he should, but he was so gorgeous. His cheeks were flushed and he was licking his perfect lips and honestly, who was Dean to deny his request?

So he kissed him, and it was stronger than any liquor Dean had ever tasted.

The guy had no fear in him. He slotted his lips against Dean's and threw his arms around his neck, pulling him closer. His bottom lip was so full and soft, Dean had to nip at it. He soothed the skin with a swipe of his tongue, and the guy shivered and opened so nicely for him.

Dean's brain fully caught up to what was happening. He slid one arm around the guy's waist and tangled his fingers in his dark, messy sex-hair. Dean pressed him closer and, to his surprised, the guy pulled at the front of his shirt and rolled them until Dean trapped his body against the wall.

That position opened up a whole new world of possibilities. They were in public and he didn't want to cross any boundaries, but he did break away and press a few open-mouthed kisses down his neck.

"Castiel!" a voice yelled from behind them. "You look at me when I'm talking to you!"

The guy, Castiel, stood up straight. Another guy, this one clad in pastel shorts and a polo, stood angrily in front of them. Dean made to let go, but one of Castiel's hands held his arms firmly around his hip. "You can't order me around, Bartholomew, I'm not your property. I have a boyfriend, and it's not you."

Oh. Oh. Castiel was trying to get away from whoever this dickhead was and needed a cover up boyfriend. Not as romantic as a love-at-first-sight fantasy, but Dean could still play the part. Honestly, he felt protective towards the guy. Castiel was trembling ever so slightly, and it wasn't from the kiss.

"That's right, asshole," Dean called, pressing Castiel's back to his chest and wrapping an arm protectively across his stomach. "Cas is taken."

The asshole, Bartholomew, looked taken aback. "That's—that's not true," he sputtered. "He's just some rando you found!"

Dean didn't want to fight, but he wasn't sure what to say. He kissed Castiel's neck again, stalling. A quick glance down and Dean spotted ink on Castiel's back. It looked like feathers.

He took a shot in the dark. "I could count his tattoos, if you like," Dean growled. "Could a rando describe his wings?"

Bartholomew's mouth dropped open, and Dean could feel Castiel lean back against him. "So thanks for the chat, but you can fuck right off now," Castiel said, voice dripping with fake sweetness. Then he turned and grabbed Dean's head again, going in for another kiss.

Dean couldn't help but submit to him. That's what he was doing—submitting. Sure, he was the one practically holding Castiel off the ground, but Castiel was setting the (aggressive and passionate) pace, pulling Dean's head to angle just right.

He could get lost in Castiel, he was absolutely sure of it, but he needed a debrief. As gently as he could, he pulled Castiel away and glanced up. Bartholomew was gone.

"You okay?" Dean asked quietly, so quietly that he wasn't sure if Castiel heard him.

"Yeah," Castiel murmured, aggression completely gone. They were almost the same height when Castiel stood up straight. "Um, thank you."

Dean cleared his throat, embarrassed. "Happy to be of service. I'm Dean."

"Dean," Castiel repeated his name, and it was Dean's turn to shiver. "Can I be honest, Dean?"

The Winchester swallowed thickly and nodded.

"That was the best kiss I've ever had in my entire life." Castiel smiled, really and truly smiled, and a warm tingly feeling spread through Dean's chest.

"Really?" he grinned.

Castiel nodded. "I did want to get away from that asshat, but honestly…" Pink tinged his cheeks, and he swallowed thickly.

"My apartment is one block away," Dean said quickly, grabbing Castiel's hand and practically dragging him out of the frat house. He was smiling like an idiot as they walked.

Dean looked over at Castiel, who was grinning at him with something so purely happy in his eyes that it made Dean stop.

Castiel's smile dropped. "What's wrong?" He looked like he was starting to panic again, and Dean took both of his hands.

"Do you want to go eat somewhere first?" Dean asked. "I know Whataburger isn't the best place for a date, but…" Dean shrugged.

"Date?" Castiel's smile was back.

"Yeah," Dean pulled him in another direction. "I was your boyfriend for five minutes. Maybe that's not enough for me."

Castiel suppressed a little smile and damn, he was adorable. "A two o'clock Whataburger date sounds like the perfect start."

They walked, and Dean's head swam. Making out with a beautiful guy, nighttime cheeseburgers, and maybe something more. Assholes like Bartholomew did have their purpose.

A/N: Reviews are Dean and Cas sharing fries!