If Dean remains a little quiet the rest of his visit, he doesn't mind. And anyway, it's not like Castiel was ever bothered by long stretches of silence, so they go on playing as if nothing happened and he tries to banish all thoughts of his body's unwanted reaction.

When he gets a text from his mother asking where he was, Castiel realizes he never texted her. With Michael surprising him at his locker then arguing with Dean, he'd completely forgotten. Another text follows to let him know dinner will be ready soon.

"I have to go. My mom-"

"It's cool." Dean tosses his controller on the bed behind him and is on his feet before Castiel can even look up from his phone.

Frowning, he tries not to be irked by Dean's obvious eagerness to have him gone. "I'll just walk home. It really isn't that far."

"Don't be stupid. Let's go."

For their short drive, Dean switches out Led Zeppelin for some heavy metal band that makes talking impossible. Castiel wants to tell him he needn't have bothered. He gets loud and clear Dean doesn't want to talk about his dad, but apparently he wasn't taking the chance.

They exchange waves and Castiel leaves the car as quickly as possible without looking back.

His mom is home for dinner for once which means they eat at the table, her still in white scrubs with happy cartoon bumblebees.

"How was your day, sweetie?"

"Fine," he answers automatically without looking up from his hamburger helper.

"So tell me about this new friend that keeps dropping you off."

Castiel puffs out a breath and thinks of what to tell her. "That's Dean. He's… he's just a friend of Charlie's."

"Not yours?"

"Well yes, mine too." It was still new to have Dean in that category.

"But not a…" she seemed to struggle on the right wording. "friendfriend… right?

Boyfriend. The word she was looking for and couldn't even say out loud was boyfriend.

"No."

Even though his mom said she loved him no matter what, he hated the relief he saw in her posture. Accepting he was gay was fine until he had evidence apparently.

When he doesn't pick up the conversation, she says, "He's very young to be driving a classic, isn't he? His family must be well off."

Castiel makes a non-committal noise but doesn't correct her. Though now he is a little curious about how he got his very loud car with what seemed to be humble means. Not that their family lived at the height of opulence or anything but from what he could make out, Dean's house was filled with second-rate thrift shop furnishings.

"Well I'm glad you made a new friend, honey. Bring him around sometime. Does he go to church?"

Castiel represses the laugh. Not that it was impossible but he highly doubted it. "Um, thanks. And I'm not sure."

Seeing she's about to follow up with yet another question he quickly asks, "How was the hospital today?"

While his mom tiredly recounts the cases that strolled through the ER that day and smiles over a story of a little girl asking if she was an angel, Castiel wonders where Dean's mom was.

That night, in the safety of his own bed, he replays that moment. That confusing scary second between wrestling and the hot spark of excitement. In the dark and staring up at his ceiling, Castiel tries to imagine it was someone else. Anyone else. Some faceless person on top of him, holding him down. Maybe lacing their fingers and moving to kiss him until he couldn't breathe. His mind immediately supplies the face and the body he'd felt just a few hours earlier. Dean above him. Dean's fingers between his. Dean kissing him-

He bites his cheek so he doesn't make a noise. His body was getting tight and hard, racing past what had happened to what might have happened.

Castiel makes himself stop before he can take it further. His hand was already fisted in the sheets to keep it from moving where he wants it. Friends don't do that. And they were trying to be friends. If it was Charlie he found himself attracted to, he wouldn't think of touching himself. Michael had been some unattainable daydream that hadn't been real so he'd never felt guilty but with Dean... He can't. He won't. He's not going to do that. He wouldn't be able to look him in the eye the next day.

Rolling over onto his front and groaning into the pillow, Castiel tries very hard to chalk it up to teenage hormones and push it all way down. It takes too long to fall asleep that night.

Castiel still blushes slightly anyway when, Dean appears on the other side his locker door the following morning.

"Hey." His smile is back as he tugs on his tie in greeting.

Smiling in return, Castiel notes, "You seem in a better mood today."

"Yeah," he shrugs sheepishly. "Sorry about that."

"Like I said before, don't be."

Dean nods, his appreciation evident. "Well, I'll be better company next time."

Castiel looks up and sees Dean's waiting as if he asked a question. Next time. Yes, he wouldn't mind that at all.

"I'll need your phone number."

Dean grins with a cocked eyebrow. "Shouldn't you romance me a bit, Cas, before popping that question?"

Castiel's mouth screws up in an embarrassed smile. He rolls his eyes, answering, "I wasn't sure where to meet you yesterday. It only makes sense."

"Yeah, sure… smooth operator," Dean teases while flipping open his phone.

Castiel takes out his own from the pocket of his bag and adds Dean when he rattles off a string of digits. Charlie walks up just as they're putting them back away.

"My male entourage! Thank you for gathering for my arrival."

It's becoming an unspoken thing, all of them meeting up at his locker, and he kind of likes their morning routine.

They say goodbye to Charlie several minutes later and at the next hallway Dean tips his head in parting but pauses to stare past his shoulder. Outside Trig, Michael is lingering next to the doorway with a foot propped behind him against the wall. He's talking with another jock but, after making brief eye contact with him, pats the guy on the back so he goes inside. Michael stays.

Dean flicks his eyes to him then back to Michael.

"Think he's waiting for you."

Castiel holds the strap of his bag tighter. "I know he is."

"You gonna be okay?"

"Fine." His answer is more clipped than he meant but that's due to nerves over having to face the coming ordeal.

Dean strides away without another word but he barely notices the abrupt departure. Taking a fortifying breath, he walks on to get this over with.

"You got it?"

Castiel pulls the pages out between a folder in his messenger bag and wordlessly hands it over. He tries to make his face as blank as possible in response to Michael's smug grin.

Thankfully with only another little sneer, Michael rolls up the papers between his hands and taps Castiel on the shoulder with it as he turns to walk through the door. Exhaling deeply through his nose, he waits a beat and follows after.

At lunch, Dean doesn't come to their spot under the 'fabulous' tree. Castiel keeps glancing up, expecting to see him striding over, skateboard in hand wearing that cocky smirk of his but every time he does, Dean is still talking idly with one of his friends. Truthfully, it would have been nice to hear about whatever skate trick Dean had mastered or his musings on zombie apocalypse survival strategies. Today he could have used the distraction what with still feeling off from the exchange with Michael. But Dean doesn't even look their way. Not that he had to eat lunch with them or anything. Charlie starts up a debate over the best super power to have but he can't help wondering what Dean would have picked.

When he passes him in the halls afterward, Dean nods but doesn't stop to walk alongside him like he had been doing for days. He'd thought everything was normal between them. As normal as it could be.

Maybe he should text him. Maybe not. He only said he would use it if they were meeting up. Was it presumptuous to just text? They were friends, weren't they? Friends text. What if Dean was still upset about his dad? Should he ask? Would that make things worse?

When he doesn't see him again by the end of the day, Castiel texts.

Is everything okay?

He unloads his messenger bag on top of his bed and spreads the books he has homework for in a row. After several minutes of nothing, Castiel opens his Biology book. A half hour goes by with hardly a question answered because he continues to give his phone an accusing eye. Not that he was waiting. He manages to get a whole two answers written down when finally it buzzes. He gets one word.

yep

That's it. It does nothing to make him feel better. He catches his bottom lip between his teeth to worry.

This is Castiel by the way.

Another five or so minutes go by.

I know

His teeth grind in frustration. He doesn't know what else to text. He really wants to ask if Dean's mad at him but why would he be? If you'd told him last week he would be glaring at his phone because he was upset Dean Winchester could be ignoring him, Castiel would have laughed in your face but here he was, definitely annoyed at the thought that Dean was doing just that.

After another twenty or so minutes of staring at his phone, he texts Charlie instead.

What are you doing?

Her response is much quicker.

Dory.

Castiel scrunches his face but gets another text right after that.

Jk! we're watchin tv. buffy?

She seemed determined to power through the series with him, one binge session at a time. Deciding he wasn't going to get any further with retaining the differences between homozygous recessive and dominant genotypes while he's trying to figure out a certain skater, Castiel texts an affirmative and is out the door in record time.

Twenty minutes later, he's sipping cherry coke and once again wedged into the half-deflated purple beanbag watching Buffy say her witty line right before staking the bad guy.

"Why did he just wait for her to taunt him like that?" he questions aloud. "Surely that vampire could have spent the time she wasted to get away or fight back."

"One-liners are Buffy's thing. Don't hate," Charlie scolds. "Now shhh. Angel's about to pop up all dark and mysterious out of the shadows."

"I wasn't going to say anythi-"

"Shhh!" she and Dory shout in unison

The girls snicker and sigh over-dramatically at the appearance of said dark and mysterious vampire.

"It will never work out," he declares, gesturing with his can at the TV.

Charlie throws a pillow at him from where she's sprawled across her bed next to Dorothy. "Don't be such a romantic all the time."

Dory chimes in. "Oh come on. She's a vampire slayer. He's a vampire. Its classic opposites attract." Shimmying closer to Charlie she adds, "And if you think this is bad, wait until Tara and Willow get together. The happy noises my girl makes-"

"Hey! Spoilers! He's not there yet!" Charlie shrieks, face a little pink.

They watch another twenty minutes before Castiel scoffs at Buffy shirking patrolling once again. "She should be focusing on her slayer duties. How many innocent people are being killed because she wants to go dance in a skimpy dress at a poorly lit nightclub?"

"Ha! He sounds like Giles!" Dory laughs, nudging Charlie.

Castiel frowns without taking his eyes from the tv. Despite his protests, he is beginning to get sucked into this ridiculous show. "She's only 16, right? And he's… how old again?

"241 and still lookin' pretty," Charlie supplies easily.

"Exactly. If you really think about it, it's a creepy. Borderline pedophilic."

"Excuse me?" Charlie crosses her arms. "You're calling Angel a pedophile?!"

"And he's an old man whether he looks like David Boreanaz or not."

"Hey! Don't dis my broody vampire okay? There are things that are not allowed in my Fortress of Solitude and that is one of them."

"Pretty crowded for a Fortress of Solitude," Dory says, smirking.

Charlie gives her a look and whines under her breath. "Babe, you're supposed to back me up here. Otherwise you're useless to me."

"Useless, hmm?"

Castiel sighs at the flirty eyes they're making and checks his phone again for the third time since arriving to see Dean has actually sent something. He must have missed the buzzing when Buffy's dramatic background music got extra dramatically loud.

so whatcha doin?

Glad Dean was texting, maybe he had imagined his mood, Castiel quickly texts back.

Watching Buffy the Vampire Slayer with Charlie and Dorothy.

Dory glances at him. "Cas baby, you're just a bitter beaver about the lovey dovey stuff because of that A-hole, but-"

"Charlie!" He looks up from his phone to throw an annoyed glare his friend's way but she just shrugs timidly.

"She weaseled it out of me using cruel and slightly sexy methods."

Great. Yet another person aware of the one thing in the world he wants to forget.

"But!" Dory says loud enough to regain his attention. "I promise you, someday someone'll come along and turn your head and when you kiss... you'll see fireworks."

"That is highly unlikely," Castiel says pessimistically as he glances back down the phone. At the moment, he fully anticipated becoming a shut in that had all his groceries delivered until one day he would be found by the neighbors when the smell got too much.

dude u r such a girl

Charlie bats her eyes and smiles shyly at her girlfriend. "Did you see fireworks with me?"

"Mmm hmm. Bright red ones." Dory bats her eyes right back.

Castiel sighs, typing out a quick reply before going back to watching a vampire eat her victim.

I assure you I have a penis.

He smiles, thinking of Dean's reaction to that. Texting made him bolder than he might have been and it was fun teasing in return.

"What's got you smiling all the sudden, grumpy pants?"

"Hmm?" he asks guiltily. "Nothing."

"Uh huh." Dory pulls away from a pouting Charlie to poke him. "C'mon, who's got you checking your phone every two seconds?"

"I am not-" He closes his fist around his phone as the other girl darts a hand out in his direction. "Charlie, please control your girlfriend."

"I've tried." She sighs wistfully, doing nothing to help. "Trust me, it's easier to just give her what she wants. Besides I'm curious too. Who you texting?"

"Nobody." It hums quietly to tell him he has a new message. Looking down, he finishes, "And it's really none- hey!"

Dory snatches his phone up and runs to the other side of the room. "Oooh!" She coos and smirks over her shoulder, reading out Dean's last embarrassing text.

haha stop tryin to get me to talk about ur penis ;-p

"What?!" Charlie smiles around her completely open mouth.

"What?" Castiel parrots nervously. "It was a joke. It wasn't- it's not what it sounds like."

He makes a grab for his phone and Dory only dodges his hand for a second before tossing it up in the air for him to catch.

"That was out of context," he grumbles, ducking his head as both girls giggle.

"Sooo," Charlie begins but dissolves into laughter again. Clearing her throat, Dory picks up with a barely controlled face, "In what context were you and Dean discussing your dick?"

Castiel averts his eyes to the ceiling and breathes out one puff of air. "Can we please get back to watching this stupid show?"

Amid much teasing, they get through another two episodes, finishing season two before he needs to get back home to attempt his homework.

The next morning, Dean greets him looking a little anxious.

"Hey."

"Hello, Dean."

"So you didn't text me back yesterday. You know I was-"

"Joking. Yes. If only Charlie and her invasive girlfriend would understand that."

"Oh.." Dean laughs in evident relief, then when he sees Charlie sashaying their way he repeats a solemn, "Oh."

"Yes. Oh."

"Deeean," Charlie sing songs and throws an arm over his shoulders.

Castiel starts off walking before the taunts can start up again. Let Dean take some of the punishment. They trail behind him all the way to Trig and he tries with all his might to block it out. He doesn't want to be around if Charlie starts accusing Dean of flirting or something like she had last night. He didn't want to hear his sarcastic laugh at that.

And to top off the morning, Michael is waiting for him again. This too is apparently a new part of his morning routine; one that instantly destroys his mood and sours his stomach. Waving behind him at his two friends, he reaches into his bag without pausing. When he gets to him, Michael yanks the homework out of his hand and skims it with satisfaction.

"Anything else I can do for you?" Castiel says, voice dry with sarcasm. He was overly tired from staying up that much later to re-copy Michael's work when he was behind on his own.

"Well if you're offerin'…" Michael waggles his eyebrows. At Castiel's blush and angry head jerk to the side, he grunts a laugh and lightly clips his shoulder walking by.

He turns and out of the corner of his eye and is surprised to catch Dean standing there a few feet away. He didn't realize he hadn't walked on to his own class.

When he starts to turn around without a goodbye, Castiel calls, "Dean?"

"What?"

He's a little startled by the anger in his voice and he's not even looking at him. "I'll um see you at lunch, I suppose?"

"Yeah, whatever," Dean shrugs and walks on.

Castiel stares after him. Yeah. Whatever. He was back to that. He knew with those two words, whatever was wrong with Dean, it was definitely due to him. Maybe he had noticed the wrestling had gotten to Castiel a little and now Charlie must have made some joke that made him uncomfortable. Well, whatever. It was Dean's problem. He hoped he got over it but if he didn't want to be friends anymore then it's not like it mattered to him. He wasn't the one who asked to be friends in the first place.

Surprisingly, Dean does come to lunch. At the tail end and bringing along a girl named Jo. She was actually the most normal of his group that Castiel could tell. Blonde hair up in a pony tail and dressed in fitted jeans and a grey tank top. Charlie seems to know her and easily falls into a conversation.

And yet it's… awkward to say the least. Dean isn't talking to him. He just let's Jo and Charlie go on while rolling his board back and forth with one foot. He catches it. Kicks it forwards. Catches it. Kicks it backwards. Jo keeps smiling and looking at Dean. Dean only looks up briefly once and a while at him and Charlie is darting questioning glances between the two of them. Bitterly, he wonders if Dean brought her along as some kind of talisman against gay. As in 'look at this hot girl that is obviously into me. No Homo.' Well it wasn't necessary. Castiel resolves not to ask and under no circumstances to text. If Dean had a problem with him, he needed to just say it, damnit.

Someone's on top of him, holding him down. Castiel struggles blindly against the weight pining him. Legs, arms, a firm chest covers his, a laugh that sounds like Michael's reverberates in his ear. He can barely take a breath. He's too heavy. He can't breathe. Stop. He's fighting- thrashing and shoving but it's never enough to move him. He's just too strong and he can't stop it.

Then a scratchy cheek rubs over his and Castiel gasps at the sensation. Everything slightly shifts. It isn't a struggle anymore but a sliding of pressure and it's… amazing. They're sweating. Panting in the silence. Rutting and rubbing in ways he had no idea about and if he could just reach down to touch himself, he would explode. He might anyway. He's that close. So close. Please. More.

A head rears back and it's a familiar face braced above his, smiling hungrily. All freckles and lightly scruffed cheeks. He's wearing the green flannel that isn't near the color of his beautiful eyes. But then he can't be wearing that because it's still balled up under his pillow, isn't it?

Cas.

Castiel wakes up gasping, clutching the flannel. He looks around in confusion, then down at himself. He's hard and his pajama bottoms are damp from apparently thrusting against a pillow. Sweat dots his forehead and trails his neck. Heart hammering too quick, he shuts his eyes and tries to come down from the edge. It had been a dream. Just a dream. After several slow steadying breathes, he looks down accusingly at green material still bunched in his hand. He tosses it and Dean's scent far across the room.

The next morning, Dean doesn't even show up at his locker.

When Charlie appears she jokingly asks, "Aw, what'd you do to Dean now?"

He doesn't answer, just frowns and leans back against his locker, probably looking sullen but he doesn't give a damn. Being friends with Charlie was so easy. Why with Dean was it so difficult? It's confusing and irritating. Half the time he felt like he should be apologizing, the other half he was annoyed with him to varying degrees. Why does he even care what Dean thinks?

Charlie goes to stand beside him then eventually bumps his shoulder with her own. "Wanna see what's in store for our slayer tonight?"

"Is watching a TV show from the 90s your answer to everything?"

"Absolutely and it should be yours."

She wasn't asking anymore about Dean and while surprising, he wasn't going to question it. He wouldn't know what to say anyway.

After a heavy sigh he turns his head to meet her eyes. "Is Spike in any of next few episodes?"

Charlie looks away coyly. "Maaaybe."

He agrees with a half-hearted, "Why not." Maybe watching a pretty blond vampire would take his mind off of stupid dreams and the fact that'd he'd apparently gone from two friends back to one.

Trigonometry has its own time. It's as if he was in a pocket universe where the clock moves twice as slow, giving him plenty of time to dwell on his scattered thoughts.

Castiel's staring off into space as the teacher paces in front of the white board. His voice is a deep soothing monotone that is easy to zone out on. His mind inevitably wanders back to last night's dream. He'd been very close to… well it was sufficiently arousing to say the least. He'd had those types of dreams before but never about someone he knew. Maybe it was good Dean hadn't shown up because Castiel probably would have been a horribly flushed mess at the sight of him. Which is ridiculous. It's just Dean. But why can't he stop thinking about it?

For once he isn't hyper-aware of Michael the entire class. Instead, he's wondering what Dean was doing in Spanish right now and then he was back to thinking about his damn dream. He didn't have any practical knowledge of what rubbing against someone like that would feel like, but that sure didn't stop his mind from creatively filling in the gaps. It was hard to shake the memory of being held in place and kissed hard. Not that it had to be hard but hard meant passionate. In all the movies, they kissed furious and angry but then he wouldn't mind it slow and soft either. Why did his head have to insert Dean? Sure, he was… well okay maybe objectively he could allow Dean was good-looking. He'd possibly been more aware of it lately but that didn't mean he was going to sit here thinking about him. On top of him. Again.

And then of course that's exactly what he starts thinking about.

He indulges the fantasy for a few hot seconds before mentally shaking his head. This was probably the very reason Dean was freaking out around him and being so distant. He was sitting her imagining what it might be like to-

"Mr. Novak."

Castiel straightens out of his slump, realizing he'd been caught up in his own head and unfortunately gotten the poisonous attention of Mr. Crowley. His eyebrows are raised in expectation. Dammit.

"Ahh, there you are. Taking in the sights?" he asks meanly and the class laughs. Michael too. He can pick it out amongst the others easily. His stomach twists, glancing around of his classmates. "Need I remind you how this works, darling? I teach, you retain. If you're off on a mini-vacation to all points nowhere, you aren't listening to me now are you?"

Castiel hopes with everything in his being, would decide his humiliation was enough but apparently no such luck. After slowly pacing as if in thought, the teacher turns to him again. "Well since you obviously weren't giving me or your trigonometry text book any of your wandering attention, perhaps you share with the class what fascinating subject warranted such concentration that I needed to call your name three times?"

Castiel remains quietly squirming with cheeks hot and eyes repeatedly tracing a deep grove on his desk. There was no right answer.

"No?" Crowley tuts as if he really regretted this. "Very well. How 'bout a zero for the day then and we call it even."

Everyone's staring, some making stupid oooh noises and he grips the desk harder with white knuckles. Feeling the looks and whispering all around him, Castiel grits his teeth and the desk hard. His ears roar dully but still he hears that laugh again.

All of this combined with the teacher's lips twisted in gratification has him shooting up his hand.

Stopping mid-turn, sighs dramatically and asks, "What now, Mr. Novak?"

"Bathroom. Please, Sir."

"By all means. There really isn't a reason for you to stay at this point anyway, is there?"

He carefully doesn't make eye contact with anyone while he pulls his bag over his head and shuffles up his row. The teacher pointedly doesn't begin talking again, just waits and thus the class waits while he makes his way towards the front. Because he's an idiot, Castiel slides his eyes to the right to see Michael grinning at another guy and clearly whispering about him. The homework he did for him is out on his desk ready to be turned in.

As soon as the door closes behind him, he hears the lesson start up again and Castiel walks with purpose intending to get as far away from it as possible. He winds up instead at the end of hall and slaps his hand against the door to open it without even pausing in his stride.

He hasn't had geometry in two years but he still keeps the compass in his bag for just this reason. Like Dean's flannel, it's a different kind of safety blanket and today's he's thankful for it. The thought of the ridiculous flannel flashes in his mind front and center and he angrily blinks it away, turning to the row of open stalls and picking the last one even though they're all empty. He's not going to think about Dean right now. Dean who seemed to be avoiding him anyway at the moment for whatever fucking reason.

Ears buzzing with a sound like white noise, Castiel gasps short breaths while his fingers fumble with the lock. With desperate jerky movements, he can't get his sleeve up fast enough as he rolls it higher and higher until he's holding the sharp stainless steel point poised over his bicep. He closes his eyes and presses his lips tight, the jerk of his hand causing that biting release. He does it twice more before he finally exhales and looks at the thin lines of blood. He lets himself look for a moment more before blotting them with toilet paper. He presses and wipes away the blood until it dries enough that he can roll back down his sleeve.

It's easier to breathe now. He feels it when he raises his arm to calmly slide the lock and open the door. He didn't completely understand why but it was comforting. When he moves his hands together to wash them, it's there. He can focus on it instead of Michael's laugh, Crowley's pitiless voice, his classmate's stupid noises. When he's home he can look at it again and ... Last time. This was a minor slip. Last time. He doesn't look up once in the mirror.

Castiel goes to lunch, grabbing food he doesn't really want but it gives him something else to do because he's not going back to class. Instead he heads out to the courtyard an extra ten minutes early. Placing his food beside him on the bench, he waits, helplessly stuck back in Trig in his head. He replays it over and over from every angle like he can drain the most pain and embarrassment from it before the bell rings to signal next lunch. Kids drag their feet back to class as others cheerfully replace them.

"Hey. How'd you get here first?"

Castiel looks up to see Charlie has joined him at some point. "Perhaps today you were extra slow." He attempts a smile for her benefit but he has a feeling it doesn't quite work.

"Seriously," she frowns, obviously sensing something was off.

"Crowley. It wasn't pleasant. I escaped early with a bathroom plea."

Charlie shakes her head. "He's such a buttmonkey. Need a hug?"

Even though he rolls his eyes, Castiel doesn't put up a fight when she leans in

to squeeze his shoulders.

Why can't he be stronger? Why does he fall apart so easily?

Seeing he wasn't being very responsive, Charlie lets him stew in self-pity while she mutters encouragements to another game on her phone. Several minutes pass before he catches sight of Dean coming towards them with a broad-chested boy he vaguely recognized in tow. Jock. He'd seen him from his time at the bleachers. Didn't Dean hate jocks?

"How many people is he going to bring to our spot?" Castiel sighs in annoyance. Now that he sees him, he decides he really wasn't in the mood to talk to Dean right now. Dean can just stay over with his pack of brain-dead friends for all he cares.

"Oh c'mon, Benny's cool. He wears a hat!"

"What does that even mean?"

"It takes confidence and commitment to pull off a hat in highschool."

"I worry about your basis for 'cool'."

Charlie smacks his arm just as Dean's voice intrudes. "Sup, Red. Cas."

And that's another thing. He just adopted the nickname Charlie used without asking or anything. It was presumptuous. Pettily he wants to blame Dean for Crowley. Worrying over Dean made him get distracted enough to be caught. And the fact that he had that intensely hot, completely involuntary dream about him makes Castiel even angrier at the moment.

"Dean," he acknowledges without looking at him.

"This is Benny."

Charlie smiles and waves but a quick glance up is all the greeting he gives Dean's friend before its back down to picking at his sandwich.

"Eh don't mind him. Once you get to know Cas... Yeah he's still rude as hell."

The words sting even if he tells himself he doesn't care what Dean thinks.

"Thank you for your observation," Castiel tilts his head at him, smiling fakely. Seeing the afternoon light hitting his face just right, he almost shivers at a stray thought of dream Dean rubbing a scratchy cheek along his. Damnit it, stop. "If I'm so rude perhaps you shouldn't subject yourself to my presence so often."

"Ya think?" Dean does his own little head tilt to mimic him.

"Yes. Like now for instance."

He stares steadily at Dean and Dean doesn't look away.

"Reeoooww," Charlie makes an angry cat noise at the tension and claws cutely before looking between them and putting her hand down sheepishly. She saves Dean from a scathing comment that was on the tip of his tongue. It wasn't a good time to be pressing his buttons and bringing his damn friends around.

Castiel tosses his uneaten food down next to him again. Maybe he'd just leave and let them all have a better lunch without him.

Surprisingly Benny isn't put off by his unreceptive greeting or the unfriendly air.

"Hey, saw Crowley tear into ya during Trig. Sorry, brother, that was harsh."

Castiel startles into looking up. Was Benny in his class? He needed to pay more attention. Previously he'd been always focusing on Michael and now he spends the whole class trying to block out Michael. He hadn't even noticed Benny before.

Dean's whole posture straightens and he drops the sarcastic smirk immediately. "You alright?"

"Fine. Not that you would care…" He averts his eyes to his sandwich again. "Anyway, he does it to everyone."

"Yeah he was nasty today though," Benny adds grimacing and why won't he stop talking?

Charlie huffs. "That douchepurse."

"Douchepurse?" Benny laughs.

Castiel doesn't listen to whatever funny response Charlie exchanges with this new person he doesn't know and doesn't really want to know. He just wants to be alone.

He unconsciously tugs at the bottom of his right sleeve, feeling a momentary zing of pain with the small movement. Glancing up, he realizes Dean is staring at him and continues to until he can't meet his eyes anymore.

Sighing heavily, Castiel murmurs, "Really, Dean. It's nothing."

He didn't need Dean's concern or pity. He had plenty of his own to go around.

Dean shrugs off his bag and brings it around to balance a bent knee while he hunches over it, digging for something. Castiel raises an eyebrow as Dean pulls out one of those apple pie pastries that he's gets from 7-11. The ones that look like a hotpocket but with fruit. It was his favorite. He tosses it in Castiel's lap.

Taken a little off guard, he frowns down at it. It looks much better than the stale bread and questionable lunch meat he had.

Benny folds his arms and has an odd look on his face watching his friend.

Dean doesn't look his way but the gruff "Shut up" was clearly aimed at Benny.

"I didn't say nothin'," his friend immediately retorts.

"No… it's yours. I appreciate the gesture," Castiel allows begrudgingly, "But I can't."

Dean waves him off. "Dude, you need it more. A crappy day deserves pie."

"Ooh I'll get yelled at for your apple pastry thingie!" Charlie chimes in.

"Yeah well next time you do let me know. Today, it's Cas'." He shoulders back on his bag but Castiel still hesitates. Dean tugs on his tie and the gesture produces a small smile on his lips. "Seriously it's my good deed for the day."

He ends up sharing it with Charlie anyway.

It's harder than usual to conjugate verbs in French class. The whole day's been a mess of confusing painful feelings. He's never been so glad to hear that final bell. His arm still hurts when he raises it to pull on his messenger bag, but now there's more shame associated with the feeling than relief.

Michael is there leaning his back directly against his locker. Twice in one day. He was having to deal with him again. Today was one of those awful days that just kept on giving. He pauses, wanting to just turn around and bolt the other way but he needs his English book. Any other day he might have left anyway but considering how he managed to get a zero in Trig today... he can't afford to avoid this confrontation.

When he reaches him, Castiel fixates on a point over his shoulder and flatly says, "I need to get to my locker."

Michael grunts a laugh but doesn't move.

Castiel looks up and glares. "Please, move."

"Oh, you need your books, huh?" He turns to fully face him, still leaning his shoulder on his locker. "Yeah I guess that makes sense. You got Mosley for English right?"

He doesn't answer.

"Yeah I got her for 2nd period," Michael continues, not bothered that he isn't participating in the conversation. "15pages? Is she fucking serious?"

Castiel has a suspicion he knows where this is going. He'd opened himself up to this. Michael had seen he was weak and now he was going to exploit it. He had done this to himself. His mind supplies so many answers. Fuck off. Go fuck yourself. Go to Hell and leave me the fuck alone-

"So anyways, 'preciate the help. Just give it to me with Crowley's work before Trig."

He sees Dean coming over Michael's shoulder and it pulls him out of his self-hating spiral. They make eye contact for a brief moment before Michael cranes his head to block his view.

"I said, thanks, Cassiel."

Michael grins. He doesn't know what expression he has on his face but the other boy steps too close like his very presence is a taunt before veering to the side and walking away.

Castiel huffs out a sigh and turns to where Dean has walked past without stopping.

"Dean."

But he doesn't stop even though he has to have heard him. Completely forgetting the English book he needs for the moment, he goes after him. When he's at his side, all he can see is Dean's profile because he isn't even acknowledging him. He's suddenly so angry his next words are almost a growl.

"What is your problem?!"

After what just happened he should be more upset about the former crush extorting homework out of him but instead all he wants to know is why Dean can't even stand to be in his presence.

"Ain't got a problem, Cas," he says without slowing.

"Then why are you avoiding me?" Castiel keeps up with him for a second then grabs his upper arm to make him stop. Dean stays in place but pulls his arm away, his jaw is flexing like he's angry too. "I thought you wanted to be friends. Not that I have a lot of experience but I believe friends don't act like this."

Without looking at him, Dean mutters, "Yeah well looks like you got enough friends."

"What? What is that supposed to mean?"

"Nothin'. Look, I gotta go."

"No, tell me what you.." he scrunches his face up, looking back towards his locker. "You don't mean Michael?"

Dean shoulders stiffen just slightly.

"Is that seriously what you've been angry about?"

"No," Dean sounds defensive while he glowers at an interesting spot on the floor. "I mean, whatever. Like you said man, it's none of my business."

Castiel narrows his eyes at him. Was all this really about a ridiculous misunderstanding? "Dean..." he sighs in exasperation.

"Hey, it's a free country. Go off and let some asshole use you and see if I care. Doesn't mean I wanna be around to see it."

"Dean!" Castiel repeats, loud enough to finally get him to meet his eyes. He doesn't want to admit this but it's better than him thinking the alternative. "He's making me do his homework."

Dean's forehead furrows and he steps back. He looks away then back with a funny expression on his face like he's trying to answer a particularly difficult math problem. "I thought- you're not... you and him?"

"No," Castiel's voice gets deeper with how vehemently that word needs to be empathized. "Trust me, I've come to realize how much of a complete ass Michael is."

"Oh... good." He darts a look up. "Well, ya know, not good just… I'm glad you aren't..." Dean rubs the back of his neck. "Guys a major dick and well… yeah. With that shit he pulled on you before, I was just worried is all."

Castiel tilts his head, a little amazed that this was why Dean had been fluctuating between friendly banter to distant so easily. Slowly as if trying to work it out, Castiel says, "You were worried about me so you decided to ignore me?"

"Uh... yes?" Dean asks as if it's as good an answer as any.

Narrowing his eyes, Castiel says, "You do realize that makes absolutely no sense."

"Yeah, I know." Dean sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. "I swear it's only with you. I'm usually way better at…" He looks up and, seeing the confused expression on Castiel's face, finishes, "making sense."

He's still frowning thoughtfully when Dean asks, "Wait, what the hell do you mean he's making you?"

It's Castiel turn to look away. "It's not a big deal."

"Seriously, stop saying things aren't a big deal. You don't have to just write off everything like that."

That ruffles Castiel's feathers but he can't argue.

"Cas, buddy. You can't just let him bully you. Guys like him don't back down unless you make 'em."

"Dean, I think we both know I can't make him do anything."

A touch to his shoulder causes Castiel to shyly shift his gaze up. Dean's in his space and he can do nothing else but keep that intense eye contact. "I can." Castiel swallows the lump in his throat trying to stay focused on what Dean was saying. "Why don't you... just let me-"

"What?" He steps back so Dean's hand drops. "What would you do, Dean?"

"I don't know! Something."

"Don't you understand? I don't want you or Charlie to do anything. This is easier! I give him what he wants and he leaves me alone."

The path of least resistance meant less time around him because every time he saw that cold, cruel face he just felt like more of an idiot for ever wanting him. Or for foolishly thinking Michael would actually want him in return. For anything other than… that.

Dean's still quietly fuming but it actually lifts Castiel's mood that it was on his behalf. He much preferred Dean angry for him that at him.

Smiling softly at the thought he abruptly asks, "When do you want to hang out again?" English could wait.

"Huh?" Dean says after a minute like he's still thinking about going after a fight.

"You implied you would want to hang out again. Before you got irrationally angry over nothing that is. "

"Oh..." Dean ducks his head to run a hand through his short hair. "How 'bout today? Now?"

Castiel's smile slowly gets bigger. Dean sounded almost eager."Okay."

"Cool."

They stay staring at one another long enough for his stomach to do that nervous flip thing.

"I um actually need to go back to my locker."

"Right, yeah." Dean quickly turns with him to start walking back towards his locker. "Sam's going to Jess' anyway."

Then Castiel remembers. "Wait, No."

"No?"

"I forgot, I told Charlie I would come over."

"Oh. Well that's cool. Another-"

"Would you want to come too? I believe we're watching Buffy again."

Dean snorts. "Yeah, cause I so look like I'm gonna watch that."

An hour later, Castiel's once again in the partially deflated purple beanbag watching a blonde teenager battle the forces of darkness.

"This is so freakin' dumb," Dean grumbles, propping his arms behind him to lean back on the floor. Castiel's eyes flick over his torso against his will before he darts them back to the TV.

"Shh, Spike's on screen!" Charlie snaps.

Castiel leans over conspiratorially. "We respect that Angel will always be Buffy's first love but acknowledge the love-hate chemistry Spike can offer."

Dean rolls his eyes and laughs at Cas' explanation but goes back to watching. It isn't long before he's interrupting again.

"Dude's got a lot of gel in his hair for a vampire, don't ya think? He finds time to do his hair before going out to chomp on cheerleaders?"

"Okay, Fortress of Solitude rule # 34: No talking when Spike is on screen. Translation- Shut up, Dean!"

Dean sighs loudly, unfolds his crossed arms to grab his coke.

Charlie gives him a sly look that Castiel's recognizes as trouble.

"Or if you really need to talk, we could always just talk about Cas' penis if you'd like."

Dean chokes hard on his soda while Castiel only sinks further into his beanbag.

Author's Note: If you're grumbling about Oblivious Cas, I promise a confrontation is eminent. A lot of his Dean-shaped blind spot has to do with issues of self-worth and of course his recent ordeal with Michael shaking up his naïve little heart. Just have patience with him, my darlings.

As always, will work for comments.