A/N: It just dawned on me that I've been writing C. Shirley instead of C. Shurley. Sometimes autocorrect gets a little too enthusiastic.
On Friday, Dean's game didn't go well –his team lost, 2 to 0. He had managed to get on base a couple times (which was more than anyone could say for a few of his teammates), but Dwayne Tanner had tried to be the big hero and score a home run instead of just popping a sacrificial fly ball*. Of course he failed miserably and they went into the next inning, wasting Dean's efforts and prompting Coach Singer to call Tanner an idjit. Not that Dwayne seemed to care. Dean learned after the game that, in spite of the loss, the baseball team was having a wild party at Tom's house and half the student body was invited.
"Come on, Winchester! It'll be awesome! My sister Meg would be real happy if you came," Tom waggled his eyebrows as they headed to the parking lot. The first baseman promised plenty of alcohol, a pool, and no parents. Dean shook his head. A year ago, he would have been jumping at chance, but lately he was getting tired of the party scene. Plus, there was Cass…
"Sorry, man, I can't tonight."
"No way, dude! You have to go! A lot of girls will be disappointed if you don't."
Ooh, big word, Dean thought dryly. Tom was one of his teammates whose vocabulary leaned toward monosyllabic, to put it nicely. Dean shook his head and laughed inwardly. I must be spending too much time with Cass. Not that he really minded.
"Dean."
Speak of the angel.
Dean turned around to find Castiel looking awkward in a CSHS sweatshirt; it looked hardly used and was a little small on him.
"Hey. Did you stay for the game?"
"Dude, you know that guy? That little nerd doesn't talk to anyone –not even the other nerds!" Tom acted as if Castiel wasn't standing right next to him and could hear everything. Castiel looked a little ticked off, but he simply ignored him.
"Dean, would you like to study now or would you prefer that I come later?"
"Whoa, Dean. Since when do you study?" Dwayne said with obvious distaste for the last word. He appeared next to Castiel, boxing him in with Tom on the other side, and all three facing Dean like the panel on American Idol. And that's exactly what this felt like. A test. Judgment. "And since when does anyone hang out with him?"
Dean didn't like this situation. He didn't like it one bit. And neither did Castiel, who was looking awkwardly at the ground with a look on his face that expressed exactly how much he didn't want to be standing between the two jocks.
Dean cleared his throat, searching for an answer. "He's–he's helping me study for Monday's history test." Castiel shot Dean a confused look, but it went unnoticed by the other two boys. Well, more like man-children.
"Seriously? You're studying instead of going to an awesome party with lots of hot chicks? What, you caught the White Tiger disease or something? Did this kid infect you?" Dean saw Castiel lock his jaw, but not say a word.
Dean shrugged, trying to act casual. "He's not that bad."
They looked unconvinced.
"I'm failing Kripke's class so he suggested that I get help from Cass…tiel. I kind of have to do it tonight; I'm busy this weekend and my dad would kill me if I failed a class." The reply seemed to soothe the boys well enough because they shook their heads sympathetically.
"Man, that sucks. And on top of all that, you had to get Mr. Ivy League. Ugh, whatever. See ya around, Winchester." Dean smiled bitterly at them but covered up with a cocky joke about their intake of booze that night, and watched them leave to their own cars.
"Dean. It is I who needs tutoring. Not you."
"Yeah but it's the only way I could get out of going to that party."
"I apologize, Dean, I had no idea there was a party tonight. You don't have to tutor me, I'm sure you'd much rather be there than with me. I can study on my own." Castiel began to walk off, but Dean grabbed his arm.
"I'd rather have you."
Castiel's eyes gleamed with so much meaning at that statement and it warmed Dean's heart. For once in his life, he had made the right decision.
"Come on," Dean jerked his head toward his baby. "It's about time you got acquainted with pizza." They went home, where Dean put in an order for a large pizza. In the meantime, he gave Cass a few bills and told him to walk down to the drugstore at the end of the block and get whatever drinks he wanted. Dean went around tidying up the living room and kitchen a bit, and pulled out a couple plates for the pizza.
hey Sam where are u He messaged his brother. I ordered pizza
at Kevin's house playing video games. hope you don't mind.
nope. more for me. text if you need a ride home.
Just as he got Sam's "ok," the doorbell rang. He opened the door expecting to find the pizza man but instead, Missouri walked in and whistled at the state of the house. She wiped a finger over the surface of a table and mockingly examined it for dust.
"You got a girl comin' over or somethin'?"
"No," Dean blushed. She just eyed him with an "Mm-hmm" and held out a roll of duct tape.
"Now I'm too scared to ask what you needed this for."
"Missouri! I just wanted to fix my dad's worktable! One of the legs is coming off."
"I don't need yo' excuses!" She put her hands up defensively and headed back toward the door. "Whatever you do on ya' own time is ya' own business. And I don't wanna hear about it."
Dean was short-circuiting. It didn't help that when they opened the door, they found Castiel on the other side carrying a six-pack. Missouri stopped in her tracks and looked Castiel over before turning back to Dean.
"Oh. It's one of those kinds of get-togethers, huh? Boy, didn't anyone ev'ah tell you three's a crowd?"
"IT'S NOT LIKE THAT."
"Y'know, I never thought of you as one to figure another guy into the equation. You seem mo' like an all-ladies' man to me."
Dean could die. And all Cass did was stand there squinting at them with his head tilted. Thank god he probably didn't understand what she was insinuating.
Missouri turned to look at Cass again. Noticing the brown glass bottles he as carrying, she turned back to Dean with her hands on her hips.
"And you're drinking?" She demanded furiously.
"What? Cass!"
"What, Dean?"
Dean groaned. Why in the hell did Cass think to get alcohol? Sure, it was a Dean move to pull, and he wasn't complaining, but what on earth possessed Mr. Goody-goody to do it? And now they'd been caught.
"Ma'am, would you like one?"
And now they were offering to their guardian, apparently.
"Excuse me?" Missouri exclaimed at the insolence of the stranger before her.
Cass simply picked a bottle from the little cardboard carrier and held it out to her. She snatched it up and inspected it, then smiled.
Dean wanted to hurl. That smile could not possibly mean anything good.
Missouri popped off the cap and took a sip. "What'd you say yo' name was, son?"
"Castiel. Castiel Novak." He held out his hand, which she shook but then held onto.
"Oh, one of the Novak kids, huh? Well…" she jerked her head toward Dean, "keep an eye on 'im."
Castiel nodded hesitantly but smiled when she winked at him with a pat to his hand. She thanked him for the drink and headed out the door, but not before poking her head back inside and winking at Dean, "Y'all have a nice night. And don't be stupid, Dean. He's a good kid."
Dean was absolutely bewildered.
"What did you give her?"
Castiel held out a bottle, which Dean immediately took a swig from. It was just IBC root beer.
"Root beer is one of the few sodas I know. And personally, I like it better out of the bottle."
Dean was relieved but also a little irritated. He didn't need this stressful kind of shit.
The pizza arrived soon after and they ate their dinner at the kitchen table while Dean reviewed the entire 19th century for Castiel so he could catch up in time for the next test. He went over Castiel's notes (which were immaculate and full to the brim with information) and highlighted the important parts, verbally adding examples of situations or inventions related to contemporary times. Occasionally, he went into depth about little stories and trivia that occurred during some of the important events they were studying. Castiel was captivated.
"After listening to you, the textbook feels…lacking," Castiel remarked after a couple hours, leaning back in his seat.
"That's the thing, man. History isn't just memorizing dates and names –the important thing, the reason why we learn it at all, is what people did and why did they do it. What drove them to make the decisions that they did and what was the lasting effect that resulted from their actions? We study history so we can learn from previous mistakes, and to appreciate the humanity that was shown in spite of desperate times."
Castiel chuckled. "Who knew a jock could be so profound?"
Dean stuck out his tongue, slipping back out of professor mode. "Yeah whatever, nerd. See if you get my help next time you need it," he teased.
Of course he would help Cass. He would always help Cass.
"So do you think you're ready for that test?" Dean drained his second bottle of root beer.
"I believe I am better prepared now than I ever could be if I had studied on my own," Castiel said warmly.
"Good. So whaddya say we ditch the books and watch some Star Wars or something."
"I've never seen Star Wars."
"Of course you haven't," Dean sighed, pushing away from the table. "Well, my friend, allow me to introduce you to Han Solo –one of the greatest heroes of all time."
Dean made a sweeping gesture toward the television before reaching to pull the DVD out of the disc travel case they had. DVD boxes took up too much room so they had consolidated all of their movies into one carrier long ago. Dean placed the disc into the player (bought from a second hand shop in town) and turned around to Jesus Christ- Castiel had apparently frozen to his spot right behind Dean, staring at him with owlish eyes.
"What?" Dean asked, looking about him for a clue.
"You called me 'friend.'"
Dean rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah, so?" he asked defensively.
Castiel just smiled, like there was a secret between the two of them that no one else knew about.
Understanding flooded Dean and he grinned back.
"Come on."
Dean sat on the couch and patted the spot next to him. He looked at his watch: it was 8pm. He was really glad that Cass didn't have practice the next morning, meaning he could stay as long as he wanted. Dean secretly hoped that he would stay all night, though Castiel had expressed earlier that his parents would want him to go home at some point.
So if he fell asleep leaning against Dean's shoulder in the middle of Episode V, no one had to know. Dean rested his head against Castiel's and closed his eyes with a smile. He wasn't convinced that it was a very "friend"-ish thing to do, but he couldn't really be bothered to care at that moment. For once, he was happy with his life.
A/N: I've been putting in quite a bit of American culture. If anyone is unfamiliar with or doesn't understand some of the references, feel free to drop me a note and I'll gladly elaborate to the best of my abilities.
* A sac fly ball soars high into the air and is easily caught, resulting in an automatic 'out' for the batter. Normally, a team doesn't want an out, but if there is a runner already on a base, this is a strategic move to use because the ball's prolonged airtime allows the runner to advance to a scoring position (i.e. 2nd or 3rd base).