Author's Note: I've been awful sick for about a week and a half so this has taken forever and a day to get done but read the note at the end of the chapter for a special surprise. Also I'm dreadfully sorry for any typos. Can I blame the Nyquil?

I'm sorry.

Castiel texted it ten minutes ago because he hadn't been able to fall back asleep. Just thinking about how he'd acted makes him cringe. He cradles his phone in his hand, replaying what it felt like to have Dean's arm around him. Not that he'd given him much of a choice the way he'd jumped into his lap. He'd been wrapped around Dean and nuzzling his neck and the whole thing just makes him squirm now.

His mom knocks softly on the door and he stashes the phone under his pillow. He heard his uncle's car drive off a few minutes ago so she was probably here to talk. He absolutely was not up for that right now. Nervous that she would somehow be able to tell he'd been drinking despite Dean's efforts, he pretends to be asleep. She stays at the door for a tense minute or two then closes it quietly behind her.

His phone buzzes with the click of his door and he checks it as soon as he's sure she's really gone.

what r u sorry for?

Castiel sighs at the ceiling. Well let's see… there was falling asleep on him, vaguely he remembers making up a poem about Dean's butt hopefully only in his head and he was pretty sure there was a moment there he almost leaned forward and kissed the other boy. What would that have been like? What would Dean have done? He almost wishes he had then he could blame it on the beer.

Sorry if I was annoying.

The answering text only takes a few seconds.

u weren't

He tries to take that to heart, but the knot of embarrassment and wrong still holds tight.

ur a happy drunk. kept expecting u to purr or something

Castiel bites his lip, grinning. He hesitates a moment before texting back.

I might remember growling.

He only looks away from the phone to grab his charger before the next text.

yeah I might remember that too :-p

Everything seems to be okay. Dean didn't find him obnoxious, even though he certainly hadn't been acting silly. Maybe he was used to drinking that much. He had called him a lightweight. Sinking back into the pillow, Castiel plugs in the phone and holds it above him to type.

Thank you for today. The driving lesson and… everything.

Everything covered a lot but he didn't know how else to say it all. For their little talk, for not freaking out about his scars, for showing him his own scar. Somehow he found himself feeling closer to Dean than he had to anyone besides Charlie and he hoped Dean felt it too.

anytime cas

And finally he's able to fall asleep.

"Morning, Cassie," his mom says from the stove while she scrambles some eggs.

He frowns and looks around at the out of place scene. Orange juice, toast and plates set out on the table with silverware.

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"I'm going in late," she smiles over her shoulder at him. "Sit down. I'll drive you after."

He knows she feels guilty every now and then that he's alone so often and makes him breakfast but he has a feeling this was going to be the talk he'd avoided the previous night.

He sits at the table and quickly texts Dean and Charlie that he won't be there early with the buses so they don't hang around waiting at his locker for him.

When she puts his plate in front of him and sits down, Castiel looks up warily. "I just wasn't hungry last night," he tries to cut to the end of this conversation.

"That's fine but you were late without calling and you ignored your Uncle trying to talk to you."

"I had a headache."

She frowns and just looks at him. He sighs and offers, "Okay, I'll apologize."

"Sunday? You can tell him at church."

Castiel inwardly groans but nods.

"Good. Now eat your breakfast, honey."

The rest of the breakfast goes quick but pleasant. She asks more about Dean and what they did all day. He finds he doesn't want to tell her about driving. It might make her feel bad and he definitely wasn't telling her about the drinking so he was left making up a story about videogames. She smiles and tells him what a polite and handsome young man Dean was. Castiel stares at his eggs like his life depends on it and tries very hard not to blush.

He gets to class just as the bell rings and sits towards the back without looking towards the right side of the class where Michael and his few friends always sit. He'd almost completely forgotten about his run in on Friday until he'd stepped through the door. It seemed so much further away and less important with Sunday still so fresh.

He doubted Michael would say or do anything in public like this but he wasn't particularly excited about another confrontation. He made his stand and now all he had to do was avoid him the rest of the year. Simple. Everything was fine. What could he do without exposing himself? Everything would be fine, dammit. If he repeated it enough maybe it'd be true.

Only about twenty minutes of Trig passes before it's interrupted by the crackle pop of the aging intercom system. The nasally voice of the office secretary begins and they all elevate their eyes as if they can see the person speaking somehow.

"Good Morning, Students! As you are aware, the Homecoming Game is this Friday, followed by the Homecoming Dance Saturday. This morning we're having our Pep Rally in the Gym from 09:15 to 10am to kick off another great year and of course Lawrence High's All-State Champions. Gooo Lions!"

After another cringe-worthy click, she's gone and everyone looks back to the teacher, who continues speaking right where his sentence left off as if there had never been an interruption. It's 9 now so he'll probably go right to the minute.

The intercom abruptly comes back on. "Also a reminder, Tickets will still be on sale in the cafeteria all week during all lunch periods."

gives the intercom a contemptuous look then waits a moment before beginning once more.

Great. A pep rally. His eyes stray to the other side of the room and he notices Michael talking animatedly with a boy behind him in a letter jacket. Well good, maybe if he was happy about all the attention, he would leave him alone.

At 09:14, Mr. Crowley puts down his chalk and everyone looks expectantly at the him. He takes his time, fixing his eyes on a point at the ceiling for probably half a minute before eventually lowering them to finally acknowledging the 30 students waiting.

"Apparently our beloved school seems to think gathering you into the gym to beat your chests is worthy of interrupting my lesson. I am truly terrified for the future." He looks around the class slowly and sarcastically adds, "Rah. Rah. Go. Team."

"So can we go?" some girl in the first row meekly asks while he looks down his nose at her.

Finally, he sighs. "Dismissed."

Castiel shuffles out of class without looking back. Michael doesn't grab him or anything and that gives him a little hope everything would go back to normal in that area. Michael could go back to ignoring his existence and just be the beautiful popular jock that lonely introverts worship from afar. Everything had been so much simpler then.

He walks with the mass crowd making their way towards the gym. As with any assembly, it's a chaotic mess of over-excited students who are just happy to be out of class. Everyone searches for their group of friends, several waving from the indoor bleachers where they've already saved spots. Blue and White balloons, hand painted banners, and streamers cover the walls in an annoying amount of school pride.

Castiel absolutely hates these things, always worrying over where to sit. He feels panicky while people flow around him like a rock in a stream. Is Charlie already here? Should he just sit down somewhere and wait for her and try and find her in the mass of other kids? He hangs back for a moment at the entrance, hoping to see a flash of red hair or spot her in the students filling in the bleachers Instead, across the basketball court he sees a familiar group. After only a few seconds, he picks him out.

Dean's in a loose circle kicking that silly ball up. He catches Castiel's eyes and he gives a small wave. Dean smiles and waves back, unfortunately missing a pass and causing the ball to thump him in the face. His friends laugh and even from here he can see Dean rubbing the back of his neck the way he does when he's embarrassed.

Smiling to himself, Castiel starts walking toward him when someone steps right in front of him. He steps back quickly. "Oh I'm sor-"

Michael raises an eyebrow, not exactly smiling. He just freezes for a moment, waiting to see what he'll do. At his side, his girlfriend sneers, "Um, move?" She's decked out in her cheerleading uniform with blue and white hair ribbons dangling from a high perfect blonde ponytail and matching blue lipstick.

"Yeah move it, bitch. I know I'm hot and all but I don't need you creaming your pants over me."

Cheeks hot, Castiel hears another voice coming from just past Michael's shoulder. One of the other jocks that always taunts him. "Ohhh look, it's the twink."

He really hated that term.

Without another word, he tries to move around the now three boys standing roughly in a line.

"Hey where you goin', queer?" Michael catches his shoulder, pushing him back in front of them. "In a hurry to be on your knees?"

Grinding his teeth, Castiel says, "Please just leave me alone."

The barrel-chested one pushes him back once again with hard fingers to his sternum. "Oh please? You like to beg?"

Shauna is giggling meanly. Other girls with her glance up from their phones now to notice the spectacle. Michael used to ignore the catcalls and jeers but he isn't ignoring them now and the boys circle, feeding off his example. Raphael, Brady, two others he's never spoken to in his life snicker and pretend to ignore he's there until he tries to leave.

Bowing his head, Castiel tries to push through several more times but someone always pushes his shoulder whenever he tries to get past, their fingers stiff and jabbing. He really hopes he doesn't cry but he's so angry he's shaking. Castiel actually shoves one away and they shove back harder, this time almost knocking him to the ground. Balling his fist, he clenches his jaw, ready to actually do this. He's going to hit one of them even though it'll mean the asskicking of a lifetime.

Just as he's about to close his eyes and go for it, someone brushes past him.

"What the fuck-"

He looks up in time to see Dean grab Michael roughly by the collar and haul him almost off his feet to throw against the nearby gym wall.

"Leave 'em alone." Dean's voice is low and gruff as he growls it mere inches away from the other boy.

All the other jocks just stand there and stare for a second, clearly taken off guard. One asks, "What's your problem? We were just having some fun with him." .

"Cas? Were you havin' fun?" Dean calls over his shoulder at him without taking his eyes off Michael.

Swallowing his shock, Castiel hopes his voice is steady when he answers, "No. I wasn't."

After a tense second, Michael laughs. "This your girlfriend, Novak?" He shoves Dean a step back and straightens his jersey. "Need to tell him to back the hell off."

Dean's still too close, keeping Michael's attention on him. "Make a move, Dickbag. You gotta do something, I'm waitin'."

Michael lifts his chin, narrowing his eyes. His huge friend finally appears at his side and its obvious he finds his confidence again. His smirk is back.

"Gotta thing for this faggot, Winchester?"

Dean smiles and shrugs. "He grows on ya. Call him that again and you're gonna be picking your teeth outta your pal's hair."

Castiel's breathing hitches. He should stop this. He should definitely probably stop this. He can revel and gush later but Michael is obviously working himself up to doing something. Too many eyes are watching. If they fight, he doubted Michael would be the one suspended. Where are the teachers? He frantically tears his eyes away to look around but most are gathered at the other end of the gym near a podium, shuffling papers and looking harried at the task of the upcoming assembly. Too many people are blocking their view.

"You?" Dean's question draws back his attention.

Michael scrunches his face in confusion. "What?"

"Blue eyes and stubble do it for ya? All this attention you're givin' him… people'll start to talk, ya know."

"What the fuck you trying to say?"

His girlfriend makes an angry squeak . Guys, both jocks and otherwise, make, "Ohhh" sounds.

"I'd never… did he… 'cause that's- that's bullshit!"

There's an awful strained air where everyone stares at Michael's overreaction, several laughing and turning away as if to make it less obvious. He's spluttering terribly and Castiel almost winces for him. Almost.

Finally he manages, "You're fucking dead."

Dean just smiles like he isn't worried in the least. Even though Castiel's heart is beating a mile a minute in fear for him, that cocky careless grin makes his stomach tighten and flip all at once. "Yeah you guys like to do a lot of talkin' and pushin' but that's all it is, huh? Whole lotta nothin'."

"Dean." Neither of them look his way, when Castiel tries to get his attention. They're too wrapped up in some primitive tough guy standoff. The big one to Michael's right shuffles forward like he's considering charging and Dean notices.

"Come on, Princess. I'll take care of you too."

Thankfully, Benny pushes through the ring of gathering bodies and is suddenly beside Dean. "Hey been looking for you guys. Problem, Mike?" Benny's in his jersey just like the other four and even though he's not saying it outright, it's obvious that he's here to back up the lone skater rather than the jocks.

A second later, Ash strides up on Dean's other side and does an ironic little wave. "Yo." Castiel almost jumps when he feels an arm loop through his. Surprisingly, it's Jo who gives him a small smile and looks back to the boys squaring off.

Michael weighs the odds and looks around again at all the people staring then settles back on Benny. "You seriously steppin' up against a teammate? For this little bitch?"

Castiel thought Dean looked anything but little next to Michael but now probably wasn't the time to say so and draw attention to himself.

"Hey I'm cool, brother, but if fists start flyin' I'm not lettin' my boy go down alone."

Brady, one of the guys in a letterman jacket that had been all too eager to play when they were just shoving him, looks antsy now. He put a hand on Michael's arm. "Come on. Let's go."

Michael jerks out of the other guys hold and takes another step forward, almost nose to nose with Dean. Benny braces an arm out to keep another jock from moving forward and interfering. "Hey! It's over."

Ash shakes his head. "Man, you boys are way too pent up. Shouldn't all that running and bashing into each other help simmer ya down a bit? Maybe try hockey next."

Brady starts backing away and pulls at Michael's jersey. "Come on. Coach'll have our ass if we do this here. They're gonna call us up front soon anyway."

"Yeah alright." He finally says and makes sure to smile threateningly at Dean. "I'll catch ya later, Winchester."

Dean puckers his lips and tips his chin. "You bet, Beefy."

Castiel never thought he'd be one for aggressive power plays, but when Dean turns and winks at him, he worries he might get hard right there. The whole thing had been so surreal and now he's left standing there, fidgeting. Had that really just happened?

A few bystanders clap and whistle as if it had been a show before dispersing; more boo at the lack of a fight. He remembers Jo is attached to him when she reaches up to kiss his cheek then walks away. He hates himself a little for every bad thought he's ever had about her. Dean walks up to him, throws an arm around his neck in a loose headlock and pulls him along in his wake. Benny and Ash fall alongside them.

"Come on, NerdAngel. We're about to play that game of hacky sack you own me."

"Man, what was that about?" Ash asks, looking back over his shoulder at the way the pack of football players went.

"Nothin'." Dean swats his free hand at Benny's arm, smirking. "Just asshole jocks."

"Hey! Watch it. I saved your ass." Benny smacks him back in the gut.

"I can save my own ass, thank you very much." Dean lets him go to have their friendly scuffle until Benny has to say goodbye to meet up with the rest of the team.

Ten minutes later and students are still milling around while the last of the classes file in. The disorganized group of teachers and guidance counselor's that have nominated themselves as "School Spirit Leaders" are at one end of the basketball court with a podium. They have the cheerleaders and all the jocks sitting along the bottom row of the closest bleachers.

Castiel is currently at the complete opposite end of the gym with all those people he used to turn up his nose at. All the people with flamboyantly-colored hair and piercings, clothing pieced together with safety pins and baggy jeans. Backpacks with writing, patches and stickers litter the ground around them. They're all there and he's right in the middle of them with Dean across from him. And he's completely happy there.

Hacky sack is a stupid game. He has no coordination for it, but Dean still lets him play. Well, makes him play but after what he'd just done for him, Castiel wasn't complaining too hard. Dean only gave him one unhelpful rule, don't use your hands, before throwing the ball up and kicking it his way. Predictably, it hadn't gone well but it was something to do rather than think about everyone that was probably talking about the little show he'd been a part of. People had to be whispering all over the gym by now about it and it helped to just focus on trying to keep a stupid small beanbag ball moving like Dean showed him. He might even allow a nervous laugh once or twice.

Charlie pops up to his left right after he kicks it way too hard towards Ash. "Dude."

"I'm sorry, Dean is making me play," he says grimacing.

When Dean just laughs, Ash holds the ball between his feet before spinning around while jumping mid air to send it hurling towards him. Okay, that was a little impressive.

"What's this I'm hearing about a jock showdown over you?!" Charlie practically punches him in the arm to get his attention.

Castiel blushes but shrugs, trying to predict when the ball will come to him.

"I'm late for five minutes and I miss Dean totally rescuing you like a damsel? Sucky History strikes again. Jacobs needs to turn her hearing aid up. I missed everything!"

Frowning at her, he says, "I am not a damsel."

Dean knocks the ball towards him and it bounces off his shoulder. He directs his frown to him but he just smirks. "Pay attention, Damsel."

Pamela comes close to put an arm around Dean's neck and lays her head on his shoulder. "Yes, what a brave boy you are. Heroes deserve prizes, Baby."

He laughs, not doing anything to discourage her practically hanging on him.

"You okay?" Charlie asks a little lower.

Fine," he says distractedly. "Why wouldn't I be?" Castiel presses his lips, kicking up the ball and in a surprisingly well-aimed hit, getting Dean right on the chin.

"Pay attention," he says innocently, tilting his head.

"Hey, not bad," Ash pats him on the arm.

Dean raises an eyebrow but moves out from under her arm. "Come on, let's find some seats. Hopefully they get this crap over with quick."

"Cheerleaders being cheery is never crap," Charlie pushes him aside to walk by, pretending she's offended.

Dean rolls his eyes and pockets the ball, following her to the corner of the bleachers his friends had saved. Castiel falls in line behind him going up the stairs, momentarily pleased that Pamela has to find a seat above them since Dean sat next to Charlie and he followed to sit at his other side. A few others, Castiel's beginning to know by sight, wave or say hey and he nods in return. It's odd but it's starting to feel a little comfortable here amongst them.

The Vice Principal laughingly apologizes into the mic for the delay and begins by repeating the announcement about where to buy tickets for the game and dance. After a few other preliminary words and introductions, the cheer captain calls the rest of the squad up to do some pre-planned presentation.

Dean whispers, eyes on the cheerleaders, "So why'd jockstrap start roughing you up? Thought you guys were all buddy buddy."

Leaning closer, he murmurs, "Well, I refused to do his homework anymore."

Dean grins and bumps his shoulder with his own. "Good job. I'm proud of ya."

Castiel smiles small. Despite how awful and embarrassing the confrontation had been, it was worth it. He feels better for it and resolves not letting anyone use him like that again. And Dean going all macho hulk on his behalf wasn't something he particularly hated.

"Thank you by the way."

He probably should have said that right after it happened.

"It was nothin'.

Castiel darts a glance at his profile then away. "Not that I couldn't have handled it." He feels the need to say even though he obviously couldn't.

"I know," Dean says easily.

They are made to endure a bunch of girls (that are way too energetic for this early in the morning) jump and flip around to music meant to "pump them up." The school should have known to do this at least after third period. Most students are leaning on their friend's shoulders, still half awake or ignoring all the noise to thumb over their phone screens. Charlie seems to be the only one in their area paying close attention.

When she enthusiastically claps and hoots after they're done, she looks back at them self-consciously. "What? Don't hate on my school spirit."

"Yeah you're really admiring their spirit, huh?" Dean snarks. During another round of half-hearted applause, he digs in his jacket pocket and hands Castiel a folded piece of notebook paper.

"What's this?"

"Just look at it later."

Castiel opens it anyway. His eyes run down the hand-written list before quickly glancing around as if someone might look over his shoulder and see. And know. Taken completely off-guard, he re-folds the paper and tries to stifle the rush of anger.

Whispering harshly back, he bites off, "Dean, I told you I don't want to talk about this! Before… that was a onetime thing. I made that very clear."

That he would bring it up here, makes him feel overwhelmingly vulnerable. Exposed. In the bubble of Dean's room when they were exchanging sore spots and absent parents, it had somehow been okay. Here, at school, surrounded by all his peers, it just hurt. Somehow they'd see how messed up he was. His skin feels itchy just thinking about it.

Dean doesn't take his eyes off the now flipping girls, but sighs. "Yeah well we're not talking about it, are we? I'm givin' you a piece a paper I want you to look at. That's all."

Castiel grinds out, "Dean… you can't just-"

"Please, Cas." He turns to him for the first time to face him.

Castiel can't take that hopeful look but that doesn't mean he has to like it. He doesn't answer but stuffs the paper in this pocket in one jerky motion.

When the bell rings he gets up without waiting for Dean or Charlie all but hopping down the many steps and getting lost in the crowd.

At lunch, he sits and lets other people's conversation surround them. After the spectacle Dean made in the gym, his friends were eager to relive it and joke with him. Sitting on his board with arms resting on his bent knees, Dean shoots him wary looks but lets him have his space. The paper burning a hole in his pocket keeps Castiel from enjoying two girl's spontaneous re-enactment for Charlie's benefit. Their voices are comically pitched low while they pretend to growl at each other from a inch away but ultimately they both burst into giggles when the one with purple hair eskimo kisses the other, ruining the supposed tension.

When he gets home, his mom isn't there. She'll be late again. He takes his time in the kitchen, heating a chicken and broccoli hot pocket and getting a bottled water. He even eats it at the table, prolonging the time. His phone chirps and he doesn't look at it.

Twenty minutes later, he's alone in his bedroom, with legs folded on top of his bed and only then does Castiel reach into his pocket to take out the crumpled paper. He smoothes it carefully several times and once again reads Dean's slanty handwriting.

Other Things To Do:

-call/text me

-call/text Charlie

-squeeze ice

-take a cold shower

-write it all out then rip it up

-hold ice to your skin(says it feels like burning)

-mark on skin with red marker

-rip up a book(not a favorite)

-yell into a pillow

-snap your wrist with a rubberband

-call/text me

Castiel worries his lip while he reads them over and over. Dean must have looked up these supposed alternatives from some kind of self-help website or something. He finally looks at the text message he'd heard buzz back when he was eating.

u still mad?

He considers, then focuses again on the first and last item on the list. It was arrogant for Dean to think he could solve whatever was wrong with him. As if he was just waiting for him to come along and tell him to stop. And, yes it was also ridiculously sweet.

Dammit, how did he always manage to feel so torn with him?

No.

sure?

A small voice in his head supplies that maybe this was why Dean had all of the sudden tried so hard to be his friend. Ever since he saw his arms that day he'd found him crying… maybe he felt responsible for him somehow.

I just don't like to talk about this.

i get that

You can't fix me, Dean.

u gonna at least look at it?

Dean was pushing and it made him feel defensive. This wasn't something he could just stop.

I will.

He already looked at it but it didn't matter. Like marking his arm with a marker or yelling into a pillow would change anything.

that's all I ask…

Folding the paper back twice along the crease, he places it between the pages of the book on his bedside table.

…damsel ;)

Lying back on his pillow, Castiel loosens his tie and tries to decompress from this crazy day. He should really just forget about crushes in highschool. Surely college was a far easier place to meet someone. So far it was just stress, disappointment and heartache. At the beginning of school,. He would have never imagined Michael could.. be like that. He searches for the pain over it but all he feels is a giddy excitement over the memory of Dean's rescue. Rescue. It sounds ridiculously romanticized, like he was some wilting flower. He wasn't. He had been fully prepared to throw a punch and okay probably be bleeding on the floor a minute later. But Dean had stepped in and protected him.

That determined look in his eye. No fear. Dean had stood toe to toe with several Seniors. Big Seniors. For him.

Castiel only hesitates a brief moment before his hand drifts down lower.

Closing his eyes, he imagines it all over again.

Dean yanks Michael away from him like before but this time he grabs Castiel instead and shoves him up against the gym wall.

Already almost fully hard, he palms himself through his pants.

Everyone gasps and gawks but Dean doesn't pay them any attention. He's completely focused on kissing him, hard and demanding. Pamela, Jo, whatever other girls always smile at Dean, they're all just staring in shock and envy.

Quickly fumbling with his belt, Castiel unzips and starts stroking himself inside his boxers because he can't wait to take off his slacks.

Dean presses him tight to the wall with his body, holding his face with those big hands. He imagines himself half-heartedly trying to push Dean away just so he'd grab his wrists and slam them back to the hard surface.

Fuck.

His hand picks up speed and he lifts his hips a little too. For a split second he pretends Dean's on top of him there in his bed, braced above him. It's Dean's fingers wrapped around him while he smiles that cocky grin down at him. Leaning close he rubs his cheek along Castiel's jaw and growls in his ear.

C'mon, Cas. I've got you.

Castiel gasps and chokes on his abrupt orgasm that makes his toes curl. He slows his hand and squeezes one last time, blinking his eyes open. Looking down at his soiled shirt in distaste, he lays there a few more blissed out moments before moving to clean up. He could feel guilty later. Right now, he can't make himself care too much.

The next morning, Dean texts to warn he won't make it to his locker. He has to drop off Sam because he's lugging some science project board. He still waits around with Charlie, talking about nothing topics just in case. They set off at a speed walk after the warning bell and he says a hasty goodbye to her before turning the corner to his hall and seeing Michael waiting for him.

His heart skips a second. Michael sees him and the look on his face is anything but friendly. There's no smug sneer. His beautiful features are hard with barely-contained rage. He remembered the gut punch he got when Michael threatened worse if he told anyone. After yesterday's confrontation, he must have figured correctly that he'd told Dean. He should have known that wouldn't have been the end of it but he'd been too caught up in reveling in Dean's overly aggressive defense of him. He hadn't bothered to think of the consequences.

Castiel grips the strap of his messenger bag tight and braces for a fight even though he'd rather run the other way. He had to go to Trig and he was done being bullied. He didn't need Dean to stand up for him. He didn't need anyone.

Even so, he shifts in place for a few more seconds until he builds up the courage to approach the doorway being guarded by an angry jock like a gargoyle. Halfway there, jumps with a balled fist raised when a hand falls on his shoulder from behind.

"Whoa there, Slugger. Just sayin' Hey."

It's Benny of all people. He tries to calm his heart enough to answer. "Sorry. Um, hello."

Benny has to see Michael only a few feet away practically seething but he doesn't acknowledge him. "Could they pick a crappier class for first thing in the mornin'?" He asks it as if they normally exchange small talk when he's only talked to him once as far as he remembers.

Gaping awkwardly for a minute, Castiel tries to recover and sound natural as he answers, "Yes, it's a special kind of torture."

Benny snorts and nods. "Well let's go get this over with then."

A wave of overwhelming gratitude wells up in him as they start walking, Benny keeping his hand lightly on his shoulder as they pass Michael.

"Mornin', Mike."

He follows Castiel to his seat and takes the empty one behind him.

"Cool if I sit here?"

"Um, sure. I don't mind. Sit wherever you want."

He sees Michael out of his peripheral kick his bookbag out of the way as he slumps into his own chair.

Some other girl with a long braid over her shoulder and several beaded bracelets on each wrist comes to sit one row over, a seat back next to Benny. He's seen her before but never talked to her.

Benny taps him on the shoulder as he turns to her. "Andrea, say hey to Cas. He's a friend of Dean's."

She smiles in greeting. "Oh, cool. Hi."

"Hello." He smiles back before turning around again as Mr. Crowley begins speaking.

Michael probably glares the whole class but he feels insulated from it somehow. Whether this was Dean or just Benny looking out for him on his own, absurdly he feels almost like crying right then and there.

When class ends and they all file out, Castiel turns to Benny before he can leave. "Thank you," he says with emphasis.

Benny mouth pulls up at one corner. "Ain't no thing, Brother. We got your back."

"So um, what is Dean?"

It'd taken all week but Castiel finally worked up the courage to talk to Charlie and as soon as the words were out of his mouth he wanted them back

"What do you mean? I think he's an Aquarius," Charlie says with a glint in her eye as she peels off the top of a strawberry yogurt.

"I mean, is he… do you think he could be Bi?" Castiel darts a look at his best friend then away.

Charlie sighs and mutters something under her breath that sounds like, "finally."

"I know he dated that girl Lisa but do you think... " he trails off.

"First and definitely foremost, I think you skipped a step. Is there anything you want to tell me?" she says in between licking yogurt off her spoon.

Biting the corner of his bottom lip, he answers. "No..."

"Mm hmm."

"Just curious."

"Right. So there's no chance you might possibly maybe totally like him?

"Of course not. Dean is..."

Aggravating. Sweet. Considerate. Starring in some increasingly detailed fantasies of his. Ignoring all the helpful suggestions his mind was throwing at him, Castiel finishes with, "Just no."

Charlie squints at him and he avoids eye contact.

"Yes you do! Castiel Novak, you lying liar! You are completely head over ugly dress shoes for Dean!"

"Lower your voice!" he hisses, glancing towards the group across the courtyard but doesn't see the boy in question.

"Oh please, you could not be more obvious. When you guys talk, you might as well be holding a subtitle card that says 'I heart Dean.' In fact, I could make one for you. I think I have my color pencils."

"I am not obvious. I've been very subtle."

"What will your couple name be? Das? Destiel? Wovak?"

"Will you- You're getting excited for nothing. He probably doesn't even… I mean, just forget I said anything."

Where he was all too ready to pick out the many reasons Michael had to be gay, he was just as uneasy and nervous to be discussing Dean's preferences. It felt like somehow he was making a mistake he wouldn't be able to take back all over again and it was going to end just as badly.

"Ughhh!" Charlie shakes her head in apparent exasperation. Snapping like she just thought of something, she says, "Oh here's an idea. Why don't you ask him?" She grins at her very unhelpful suggestion.

"I can't just..." he makes a helpless gesture towards the group of Dean's friends.

"Just…what?" Charlie raises her eyebrows and balls hers fist like she's trying to hold herself back. "Just ask your good friend Dean whether he might ride the fence a little? I'm sure it'll be an interesting conversation."

Sighing, he says, "I'm supposed to just go up to him and ask."

"That's my brilliant plan. Like it? Simple. Easy to remember."

"People don't just ask."

"People that want to know do."

Did he want to know? Yes. Absolutely. Would that mean all the little touches and smiles meant more? It terrified him all at once to think it might.

"Also its Friday so if it goes super bad you have two days for it to get less awkward." She quickly adds, "Not that it'll go bad!"

"Sometimes I just feel like there's something happening between us but what if it's only me?" In the moments they were staring at each other a little too long or Dean had touched his hand… when he was drunk he remembered stretching because he knew Dean would look. And he had. "What if I-"

"Just talk to him," she says like it's the answer to the universe, gesturing with her hands out toward him. "Then you'll know. Sometimes being brave is all it takes."

"Bravery is not a trait I have an abundance of."

"Cas," she sighs. "This isn't something I can do for you no matter how much I really really want to. And what fence-riding boy wouldn't be interested in my best friend? Look at you, you're dreamy."

"And you're biased."

"No just…" she growls in frustration. "Ok another way to look at it. There's three possible outcomes here. One: Bad. Dean freaks out."

He winces and she waves that away before quickly pressing on.

"Two: Good. Dean doesn't feel that way but now you know. You move on."

Why had he brought this up? He should have just continued suffering in silence instead of suffering with an audience.

"Three: Awesome! Dean's into you. You guys kiss and cuddle and you get a couple name-"

"Okay, I understand."

"Now you know Dean's not gonna freak out on you. He's your friend. So that just leaves good or awesome!"

Castiel sighs heavily at her over-exuberance, slouching so his elbows rest on his knees. "You make it sound so simple." Just talking about this with Charlie made his stomach roll with nausea. He would never be able to do what she was suggesting.

"It is. What if, okay what if this is like spiders."

"What?" He looks at her completely lost.

Charlie sets her yogurt down. "I see a spider and totally wig out but really that spider is terrified of me. I probably look like a giant red dragon to him. Maybe Dean's like the um spider and uh… just as scared too? Sorry I lost the metaphor somewhere in there. Anyway, I think you should talk to the spider."

Seeing his indecisive lip-chewing, Charlie sighs. "Or we could waste two months stalking him and building up evidence, but seeing how that turned out..."

Castiel scowls at the reminder of Michael. "Dean is nothing like that- that assbutt!"

"Wow. Harsh words." Dean snickers, coming up behind them and startling Castiel into whirling around and almost falling off the bench. Dean grabs him, catching his shirt just in time.

"Whoa, Cas buddy. Ya alright?"

Buddy. Castiel narrows his eyes and forgets his fright that he might have heard the beginning part of that sentence. Buddy. Perfect.

"Uh, hi Dean!" Charlie says too cheerily to fill the silence of Castiel just staring.

"Hey," he comes around to drop his board on the ground in front of them and sit on it. "You know that chick Bela? Goes to that fancy schmancy private school with Dory?"

"Um, maybe? Tall, pretty, kinda scary when she smiles?"

"Bingo."

How had he found himself here, watching Dean talk to Charlie and feeling butterflies? He had deplorable choices in clothing. Flannels. Old tshirts. Even a stupid wallet chain. God, he was just so...

"So, Cas?"

And that honey-colored scruff that infected his daydreams. Freckles. Stupid ridiculous freckles. How could freckles be sexy?

"Hey, Earth to Cas."

"Hmm?" He raises his eyes to see Dean's attention is on him.

"You listenin' or someone hit your off switch?"

A surge of hurt bubbles up out of nowhere. Getting to his feet, he growls, "I am not a robot!" The anger in his voice surprises them both. "I have feelings. And emotions. Just because I don't feel the need to have ridiculous outbursts all the time…"

And belatedly, he realizes like he's doing right now but he can't seem to stop.

"Cas? What the hell…"

Abruptly, he turns and walks quickly away before he can embarrass himself anymore.

Stupid. That was so damn stupid. He's suddenly so angry at himself he can't take it. What was wrong with him? Charlie catches up with him when he turns the second hallway. "Hey" she calls, running in front of him and stopping him with a hand to his chest. She breathes hard while he stubbornly glares at the tile.

"Talking. You… Me… Now," she gasps.

Castiel closes his fists around the ends of his sleeves, rubbing his thumb over the buttons. Charlie coughs one last time before stubbornly folding her arms and waiting for him to speak.

He quietly asks, "Dean?"

"He left. I think he was just, ya know, confused? What happened?"

Sighing, Castiel shuts his eyes. "I don't know."

"He was joking. You know that."

He didn't know. Not completely and that ate at him. It was nothing Dean hadn't said before, but where it used to just roll off his back, this time it had stung.

"What if he wasn't?" His voice was small. "What if I'm seeing what I want to see and he doesn't..."

Charlie dips her head to catch his eyes and reaches down to squeeze his hand once.

"Stop with the what-ifs, Dork. If nothing else, he's your friend."

"I know… what do I do?" he groans, rubbing his temples in an attempt to stave off the oncoming headache.

"Well first you go crawling back and say sorry for biting his head off."

"And then?"

"You could always offer to buy him a cherry slushie."

He gives her a skeptical look.

"Hey it worked for me."

There's still five minutes left of lunch by the time Charlie drags him back out to the courtyard. He should have gone another way. If he hadn't picked such a predictable escape route, Charlie wouldn't have found him and he could have avoided this conversation he was now about to have. Maybe he would have just avoided Dean until the end of the school year. That seemed like a perfectly marvelous idea at the moment.

"Go." Charlie gives him a push to get him going. When he glances back at her and hesitates, she shakes her head. "Don't give me those puppy eyes. Man up, Novak."

Dean's back over with his friends and when he sees Castiel coming, he reaches into his pocket and tosses that hacky sack ball up in the air, concentrating on keeping it bouncing from one knee to the other. Obviously he wasn't going to make this easy.

With one last pleading look to an unrelenting best friend, Castiel marches over to the big scary cluster of people. Some he knows, most he doesn't. He catches sight of Jo, Ash, Pam who he doesn't like without a good reason, Andrea and Benny.

Dean stays focused on keeping the ball moving even when he's right next to him.

"Dean," he says quietly, trying to draw as little attention of the on-lookers as possible.

"Cas," he answers, still preoccupied.

His friends go about their business but he feels them glancing at him and Benny elbows a guy near him Castiel thinks is named Victor. With the audience he already feels on edge so he keeps it short.

"So, I apologize." It comes out sounding defensive.

"Forget it," Dean says still not looking at him. "Getting kinda used to it actually."

That hurts. Sure he used to think nothing of bitterly sniping back at Dean but it hadn't been that way between them for quite a while. Castiel sighs, not knowing how to tell him why he stormed off angry, not entirely understanding himself. He hates that Dean is purposefully not even acknowledging him.

When Dean kicks the ball up particularly high, Castiel reaches out and catches it mid-air, forcing him to stop and look at him.

They stare at one another for a tense few couple of seconds before Castiel slowly and sincerely repeats, "I'm sorry, Dean."

Dean's eyes do a little tour of his face. "You're sorry."

Castiel shrugs. "I could say it in French if you like."

The corner of Dean's mouth pulls up like he's fighting to stop it. Folding his arms, he says, "Alright, let's hear it in French."

"Je Suis désolé."

"Damn. Sounds so pretty, guess I gotta forgive you."

Feeling the relief that the hard part was over, Castiel tries to joke, "It really is your only option."

He hands the ball back and Dean holds his hand around it with their fingers overlapping for a second too long before taking it. Sucking in a quick breath, Castiel begins to backtrack feeling like all of his courage was spent.

"Well, um goodbye then."

"Hey, Pam's friend Bela is throwing this party tomorrow night. Kinda like an Anti-Homecoming." Dean tosses the ball up again and goes back to focusing on it. "If you wanted to go, I could pick you up."

"Oh, um.. s-sure. I guess-" Castiel bumps into the black clad Pamela backing up and she rights him.

"Whoa there, Cutie. You ok?"

"Yes, sorry," he murmurs and hurries away, face flaming.

Breaking away from talking with Jo, Charlie appears at his side as he walks back into the school. He couldn't stand to be in the courtyard a moment longer with all those eyes on him. "Well that could have gone smoother but points for bravery."

"Do you want to go to a party Saturday?" he abruptly asks.

Scrunching her face, Charlie gives him an incredulous look. "Do you?"

"Dean's going to be there and he uh invited me, I guess?"

Charlie shakes her head. "Boys. You guys are making this way too complicated."

"You don't have to come," he says quickly but knows without her he probably won't go.

"No, no. I went through your football phase. At least this is something I can get behind. Dory texted to say she's going anyway."

"Okay."

His stomach immediately starts twisting in knots. Was he seriously going to a party tomorrow? With Dean? What do people do at parties? Drink and dance if television was anything to go by. He didn't plan on doing either of those. Should he not go then? He probably would just end up sitting in a corner somewhere anyway.

"Are we meeting there or-"

"Dean's driving us."

"Us?"

Castiel turns to her. "Us."

Waggling her eyebrows, Charlie asks, "From the way he was talking when you zoned out earlier, kinda think he meant just you and him. I can get a ride on Dory's bike. And if you go alone maaaybe you guys could have that talk?"

"No!" he practically chokes on his sudden panic. "No, definitely come."

If he was going to be talking with spiders, he needed his best friend at his side.

Author's Note:For being such lovely, patient readers, I'm posting another chapter tomorrow! Yay! I might as well call it the Party chapter. See you soon!