Dean stirred from a fitful sleep, looking blearily at the red numbers on his alarm clock. 4:26 AM. He let his head fall back onto his pillow with a frustrated sigh. He had been unable to sleep for over a week now, and his entire body ached from exhaustion.

It was officially Thursday, and he was dreading his last meeting with Castiel. Since their argument last Monday, things between them had been nothing but proper, and Dean hated it. Castiel was not a stereotypical teacher. Now he was acting like his older brother, and other students were starting to notice his behavior as well. On Tuesday, Charlie had texted him during her class with the man in question.

C: What the hell, Dean? Did you guys break up or something?

D: Not funny, Red.

C: Oh, come on, Dean. You two have been practically to the point of finishing each other's sentences, and now he is suddenly cracking down on everyone?

C: What did you do?

D: I didn't do anything. I didn't ask to be pulled into his bullshit, and yet here we are.

D: The dude has family problems that make my family look like the freaking Brady Bunch.

D: And just because he's gay doesn't mean that I am! It was never like that. Let him do whatever or whoever he wants. It's not my business.

C: He's gay? I knew it!

C: How do you know?

D: His brother told me.

C: Dean you better start talking now!

D: There's nothing to tell

C: Bullshit

C: I'm coming over later and you're going to tell me everything.

D: Fine, but I have to meet with him after class.

C: Omg good luck!

Dean slipped his phone back into his pocket, sulking. He was so sick of this crap. He hadn't asked for any of the weirdness that had happened between them. Cas had required him to write extra assignments and meet him after class on Thursdays to discuss those assignments, and that was all that he had agreed to. Apparently, the universe had other plans. He had grown closer to his instructor in the past few weeks, but he could do without that… right?

He picked his head up, striding right into Castiel's classroom and taking his seat. Normally, Castiel would be waiting outside the door to greet his students as they entered the class. Now he sat silently at his desk, his brow furrowed in concentration as he typed on his computer. He looked tense, as if he was waiting for disaster to strike. Suddenly, he looked up, and Dean was staring directly into blue eyes. Shit. He had been caught staring, and now he couldn't look away. Castiel's eyes searched his face, and his expression faltered for a moment into something softer. Dean looked away, clenching his jaw. He was getting sick of the fucking mind games with this guy. When he turned his attention back to the older man, he glared at him until he finally looked away, sadness evident in his features.

Dean did not look up from his notebook for the rest of the class period, occasionally feeling Castiel's eyes on him. He remained in his seat as the others filed out of the room. Finally, he lifted his head once more, crossing his arms as he waited for Castiel to speak.

Castiel shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other as tension filled the air between them. He had noticed the dark circles beneath his student's eyes, the same ones that he knew were under his own. Dean wasn't sleeping either. He had tried to rationalize that there were thousands of reasons why a teenager wasn't sleeping, but he knew why, even if he could not admit it. He had caught him staring at him at the beginning of class, and then Dean's anger had come through. This was his fault after all.

He had been stupid to have disclosed so much of his personal life to his student, putting him into a situation that put both of them at risk. It wasn't like he had slept with his student, but there was no denying that their student-teacher relationship was far from professional. He was still embarrassed that his student had been the one to take him home after a night at the bar, even if he had only done so out of concern for his safety. He was supposed to be the responsible one. He was the one who had fucked everything up. It was time to make it right.

"Dean," he began, wincing at the unsteadiness of his voice, "We need to discuss this."

Dean eyed him with suspicion, tensing in his seat, "There's nothing to discuss here. I'm here to talk about my paper."

Castiel sighed, dropping the subject, "Alright, Dean." He opened his desk drawer, pulling out the assignment and handing it over to him. "It was excellent work, as usual."

He accepted the paper, quickly locating the now-familiar '100' at the top of the paper. His eyes scanned the scrawled comments in the margins, feeling a sense of pride at the praise for his work. His stomach dropped as he realized that he would not be having this opportunity anymore, wouldn't be alone with Cas anymore. This sucks. It took a moment before he realized that Castiel was speaking to him, "Sorry, what?"

"I was saying that I have no doubts about you passing the class," he smiled sadly, glancing down at his feet, "So, as I said before, this is your last assignment. Aside from your regular classwork, of course."

Dean nodded, not quite knowing what to say. Since their first meeting when he had been told he was failing, he had grown close to Castiel. He could easily call them friends, but he knew that that closeness was frowned upon. It was unfair, but he understood why he needed to keep his distance. He cared greatly for Castiel, and he certainly didn't want him to lose his job. Bracing himself for the bittersweet end to their friendship, he stood slowly, "Well, thank you for giving me the chance to redeem myself and for having faith in me. It's given me a lot to think about."

"It's been a pleasure watching you develop into a great writer," Castiel spoke quietly, "But I don't think that you needed me to do that, Dean. You are intelligent and kind. Never let anyone make you think that you are not those things." He nodded toward his assignment, in which Dean had described his difficult relationship with his father. Excluding a few details of course.

Dean swallowed with difficulty, his throat tight with emotion, "Thank you... Cas."

Castiel regarded him sadly, "We still have two more weeks in this quarter. Then you will be on to your next set of classes. I know you can do this, Dean. You're going to have a great senior year. You'll have to stop by to say hello from time to time."

Dean tilted his head in confusion, "But, you said all that stuff abou-"

Castiel pushed off his desk, moving closer and dropping his tone, "The lines of our relationship were becoming dangerously unclear, Dean. I know that you know that, too. There is no harm in remaining friendly, but from a distance."

Dean stood, taking in the sudden shift in conversation, "It's been nice having someone to talk to. I don't think I could just throw that away." He licked his lips, glancing up at Castiel, who was only a half inch taller than he was, "Besides, Castiel, you haven't kept up your end of the bargain."

Castiel's eyes widened, his breath hitching in panic, "Dean. W-what are you talking about?"

Dean smirked, taking a step closer, "I completed all your assignments. I'm passing." He chuckled at Cas's break in composure, "Friday night. You're coming to the game."

He let out a shaky laugh, relief washing over him at the turn in conversation, "Christ, Dean. You had me worried for a moment there." He wiped at his face, shaking Dean's hand with the other, "I suppose you're right. A deal is a deal."

Dean grinned, excited at the chance to show off his skills, "Great. It's gonna be awesome." He gathered his things, heading for the door, "Oh, and wear blue."

Castiel rolled his eyes, grabbing his own belongings and departing the classroom with Dean, "Whatever, Winchester."

They smiled and waved to each other as they headed to their separate cars. Sammy was waiting. As Dean pulled out of the parking lot, he turned up his music, singing along.

"What's got you so happy," Sammy asked in confusion, nose already in a book.

"Just a good day," Dean countered, turning the music up louder to annoy his brother. He relaxed into his seat, hand sliding over the wheel with confidence.

Maybe things wouldn't be so bad after all.