Castiel marches out of his room and across to Gabriel's for the fifteenth time that hour. Standing in front of the full length mirror, he holds up yet another shirt in front of chest, this time a white polo with light grey vertical stripes. Scoffing in disgust, he tosses it in the pile of discards on the floor.

"Are you okay, honey?" his mother asks, smiling knowingly. She'd been standing in the hallway watching him pace between rooms for who knows how long.

"Yes." Holding up one of Gabriel's shirts, he frowns at the mirror bleakly. It was useless, everything he wore either looked not like him or too much like him. "Fine." He throws down the shirt and stomps back to his room.

"You're sure? You seem... restless."

"I just want to look nice."

"I'm sure Charlie thinks you look very nice in whatever you wear."

He scrunches his face in momentary confusion before quickly remembering he said he was going to Homecoming with Charlie tonight. He wasn't the best liar so it seemed smart to keep it simple and pretend he was going to the big dance even though it was the last thing he'd ever do. His mom had seemed surprised but enthusiastic, asking if she could take pictures of them He couldn't exactly say he was going to a party where there would undoubtedly be drinking and a boy he wanted very much to kiss until his lips were numb.

"Well… I want to look extra nice tonight," Castiel says without really listening to his own words. He's such a bundle of nerves he can only think of horrible scenarios where he has to dance or he's left alone to awkwardly fidget all night.

"Just don't stay out too late." She kisses his forehead while he's frowning at another shirt. He misses the grin on his mother's face as she walks away to give him space to quietly have a panic attack.

The rest of Saturday is spent getting a second shower, fighting to flatten his hair as best he can with some gel and hating every piece of clothing he owned.

By the time Charlie knocks on his door at 8, he's frantic. He has four ties draped around his neck, and a white shirt on with black slacks. It was like what he always wears but the jeans reminded him of trying to impress Michael and he didn't feel comfortable in them.

"I don't know which one to wear!" he says, breathlessly.

Charlie tilts her head then picks up the bright blue tie. "This one."

His head jerks down to inspect it then back up to ask, "You're sure?"

"Yep. Matches your eyes."

He looks her up and down finally noticing the pretty green dress that falls mid-thigh with beaded fringe, almost like a 20's flapper dress. "You look amazing."

"Thanks!" Charlie does a little twirl to show it off. "It's my mom's."

Turning back, she grabs his hand. "Now stop panicking. Your eyes keep going all buggy. You look fabulous. Let's go, Dean'll be here any minute."

"Okay…" he breathes out, trying not to be cynical about getting a pep talk. Quickly knotting the tie as he walks towards the back door then turns at the last minute to yell, "I'm leaving! Bye, Mom!"

"Charlie!" His mother's voice booms in excitement as she enters the kitchen. Damn, if only they'd been a little faster. "Your dress is beautiful!"

"Thank you, Ms. Novak."

His mom gives her a long hug and Castiel tries not to just growl in impatience. Only a little longer and they'd be gone. Not that his nerves would be any better when he was in Dean's car.

He turns towards the door when the Impala's engine can be faintly heard outside.

"Mom, that's Dean."

"I know, I know." She pulls back from Charlie tabbing her eyes for some reason and produces a camera from behind her back.

"Mom..."

"Oh shush. Stand together."

Castiel almost starts rubbing his temples at the ridiculousness of this but dutifully does.

"Closer," his mom singsongs.

Charlie wraps her arm around his shoulders and leans into him. Finally his mother smiles behind the camera and takes several quick pictures while he tries his best to not look like he's about to crawl out of his skin.

"Okay. Mom, we really have to go now."

"Oh alright. I don't know why Dean has to take you though. You know I can-"

"We're fine. Goodbye!" he quickly says while grabbing Charlie's hand and tugging her out the door.

"Bye, Ms. Novak!" she laughs and struggles to wave while being pulled along.

"Have fun!"

Dean is standing in the space of his open driver's door with arms folded over top of the car. He has on a brown leather jacket over what looks like a dark red button up shirt.

Dean only seems surprised for a second at seeing Charlie as well before grinning and telling them to get in. She shoves him towards the passenger seat. "Cas called shotgun!"

He glares over his shoulder at her but she just gives him a thumbs up. When he gets in, he notices Sam is already in the back focused on his phone.

"Hey, Cas." he says without looking up.

"Hello, Sam."

"Sammy," Charlie calls, closing her door.

"Don't call me that," he glances up, smiling at her as she buckles up next to him.

"SamBear?"

"Nope."

"Samsquatch?"

"Hey, I'm keepin' that one." Dean laughs as he turns the key.

Being acutely aware of every inch between them, Castiel stares straight ahead out the windshield even though he feels Dean's eyes on him. The car pulls away from his house and he focuses on bunching his fingers in his slacks.

Dean's little brother is only with them a few minutes before being dropped off outside a pretty blue two-story house with orderly flowerbeds lining its base. Sam leans over the front seat to see himself in the rearview mirror, haphazardly running fingers through his hair.

"Ah leave it alone. Bet she loves that girly mop."

"Shut up, Jerk!" Sam smacks his brother in the ear and scurries out the open door before Dean can make a grab for him. Dean reaches over the backseat but misses him.

"Bitch!" he yells after him through the rolled down window. He snickers and says, "First girlfriend. They grow up so fast."

Castiel smiles stiffly before turning back to the windshield.

"I'm glad I'm an only child," Charlie says, unplastering herself from her door.

After about fifteen minutes of driving they park along a curb and get out to walk. It's dark outside by now but there's plenty of street lamps evenly spaced to give the neighborhood a glow. All the houses on this block are tall and tasteful designed with faux balconies, little decorative lights lining walkways to their doors, not a tree or flower out of place.

Charlie whistles, looking around at the houses. "Someone has money."

As they walk up the street, Castiel almost tilts his head to the side when he notices Dean is wearing fitted jeans for once. He looks away just as Dean turns towards him, "What?"

"I didn't say anything," he clears his throat and turns to Charlie who laces her arm through his. They follow a few other kids on their way to the right house. Faint music thumps from inside, making it clear this was it.

Once inside, they pause at the doorway taking in the group of over 50 people walking in and out of a large main room with a tall pointed ceiling. A hallway breaks off to the left under the staircase and further to the right is an open door to what he assumed would be a kitchen. Even in the spacious area, it's crowded already. Dean takes off his jacket and throws it over a banister of the curving set of stairs.

"Dory!' Charlie hops up and down waving to her girlfriend across the room. ""Ugh, she can't see me and I'm looking so cute! Be back."

Castiel almost makes a grab for her arm to stop her. He wasn't expecting to be abandoned so quickly.

He turns to smile awkwardly at Dean.

"You okay?"

"Yes. Why wouldn't I be?"

"You just seem… quiet."

"Hard to be otherwise in all this noise, " he tries to joke but truthfully the loud music and large group of people is making him feel a little suffocated.

"Yeah, Bela likes this pop crap. I'll try to slip something else on later."

The conversation lulls again and Castiel turns back to the crowd of people. Some he knows by sight from school, a good portion are new faces. Most of the girls dressed as if they were going to a club or something, short skirts or tight dresses. The boys are all in regular torn up jeans and faded tshirts or a few have on button ups with short sleeves as if it's the most they'd dress up for an Anti-Homecoming party.

No one wore a suit or one of those formal dresses that went to the floor. He suddenly feels out of place now in his slacks and tie. He should have worn the damn jeans. Michael's words from forever ago resound in thoughts.

Uptight. Loosen Up.

He's pulled out of his spiraling self-consciousness when a cultured female voice carries over the music.

"Welcome, welcome. Beverages in the kitchen… " calls a tall slinky brunette in a sinfully short black dress dancing their way. When she's right in front of them, she puts her hands on her hips and eyes him up and down, making Castiel look to Dean in confusion.

"This is our host. Bela," Dean says, not sounding too enthusiastic at her appearance.

"Mmm," she runs a finger down Castiel's arm. "And who are you?"

The predatory way she's evaluating him, is disconcerting to say the least. "I… uh, I'm-"

Dean tugs him backwards next to him. "He don't swing your way so you can stop eying him like a piece a meat."

"Pity," she sighs and smiles. "Dean can tell you… we could have a lot of fun."

Castiel doesn't look at Dean, but follows when he just walks off without another word. When he catches up to him, grabbing a beer in the kitchen, he says, "it was one time. It was a mistake. Don't ask about it."

"I'm not." Castiel tries to seem casual as he leans back against the counter top, watching Dean angrily twist the cap of his beer off.

The last thing he wanted was to know more about him and that girl who looked like she'd eat him for breakfast. How many girls had he… Nevermind. Castiel decides he doesn't want to follow that thought. He'd only kissed one person, but he can't expect everyone to be so… inexperienced. A small curl of something bitter tries to take hold but he shoves it down.

Dean greets a small group of people passing through the kitchen as they grab solo cups and head out again. Through the open doorway, he can see Charlie and Dory dancing to the fast energetic pop beat. Her red hair twirls as they spin, Dory attempting to dip her. He can hear her familiar laugh from here and smiles at it.

After another of Dean's friend's leave, they're left alone again.

The silence immediately becomes obvious and they both stare at the floor. He should say something. It's too quiet. What's a nice neutral topic?

"Hungry?"

Castiel looks up. "Uh, no. Are you?"

"Nah."

He nods and goes back to shifting in place.

Dean rolls the brown bottle between his hands idly before asking, "Oh, uh wanna beer?"

Snorting, he immediately answers, "No, definitely not." All he needed was to be a babbling fool in front of a house full of strangers.

"Aw but you were so affectionate last time," Dean teases.

"Stop." Castiel smiles, rolling his eyes. Actually thinking of something to say, he asks, "Where's Benny?"

"Ah see, some of my friends are so bad, right?"

"Yes, he's great." He didn't know how to sum up the gratitude he'd felt for having Benny around lately. "I like him a lot."

Dean frowns and rushes to fix that. "No, not… you know, like as in a friend. I think we're friends anyway."

Seeming mollified, Dean grunts, "Good. 'Cause Andrea would kill you if you got hung up on him. They're at the dance. She wanted to go and he's kind of a teddybear when it comes to her. They might stop by later though."

Castiel nods. Now that Dean isn't wearing his jacket, he takes time to notice the more fitted clothing in side-ways glances.

"You look nice." Did he just say that? He almost certainly is blushing so he rushes to add, "I mean, without the... baggy stuff."

Dean looks down at himself and shrugs, pinching at his shirt a little sheepishly. "Yeah ya know, tried to do something different."

Castiel's eyes lower to his own clothing again. The same slacks, dress shirt, tie combo he'd been wearing for years.

"Hiya, boys," Pamela walks through the kitchen in a tight black shirt with a scoop neck and dark jeans that hug her curves. She reaches around Dean to get a drink, stepping purposely closer than Castiel thought was absolutely necessary. She winks at him on her slow pass by with Dean following her with his eyes.

"She's… friendly," he ventures, trying to gauge Dean's expression.

"Yeah," he shrugs and takes a few swallows of beer before setting it down on the counter.

Insecurity peaking, Castiel fidgets a few more seconds before getting irritated by all the silence. "Dean, can I ask you a question?"

He straightens a little and clears his throat. "Okay, shoot."

"How do you see me?

"Uh, whatdya mean?" he asks suddenly not looking right at him anymore.

"Do you think I look stupid?"

"What?" Whatever he was expecting it was clear this hadn't been it. "Come on, Cas, what kind of question is that?"

"I want your complete honesty. The way I dress, is it... Michael said maybe I should-"

"Is he messing with you again?" Dean takes a step forward, already angry.

"No, no. This was before. But maybe he was right." He looks back towards the open doorway of dancing bodies.

"Cas, you look fine. It's just... you. I like it."

Castiel still worries his lip, looking at his hands.

"But can I maybe try something?"

He looks up skeptically.

Dean takes another step forward and reaches towards him, making Castiel flinch. He laughs a little nervously. "Promise it won't hurt."

Castiel grips the counter behind him, and makes himself hold still while Dean stands in front of him and undoes the first button of his shirt. Then he grabs his wrist and pops the button before rolling the cuff of his sleeve up towards his elbow. Castiel watches, swallowing nervously and trying not to pull away. Dean meets his eyes briefly before doing the same to the other sleeve. Pausing a moment to consider, he reaches forward and pulls his tie a little loose so it's slung lower.

The urge to step back is overwhelming but there's nowhere to go. He's already pressed tight to the counter. Dean's chewing his lip, eying his hair, and Castiel can't help staring at his mouth. He's so close. Too close.

The hair he always battles to slick down, Dean sifts his fingers through, rubbing his palms back and forth over it a few times. He bites his cheek not to move or do something stupid like lean into that touch.

Dean finally takes a step back to admire his handiwork. Castiel is proud when he manages to just arch an eyebrow in question. What was he supposed to be doing again?

"Damn," Dean coughs and rubs the back of his neck. Why is he blushing?

"What?"

"Nothin' just… " He seems to shake himself then smiles at the floor. "Looks good."

Castiel looks down at himself like he can't believe him.

"Not that you weren't before.. er.. I mean you can change it back if you want. It's really nothing..." Dean clears his throat again. "Oh look Ash. I gotta go um, say Hi. Be right back."

Castiel watches him go, feeling his blood rush in his ears. He rubs his arms, self-consciously like he's cold but stops when he notices he's doing it.

When Dean doesn't come back for several minutes, Castiel decides to leave the kitchen. More and more new guests were bustling around grabbing drinks. Weaving through the crowd, he ends up sitting on the stairs. Charlie sits down next to him a minute later, beaming. "Heeey."

"Hello?" he returns, frowning at her.

Dory appears in front of him in khaki pants and a pretty red top. "Whoa, look at Hottie McHottie over here. Where you been hiding?"

"Dean did it," he says anxiously. The urge to try and smooth his hair flat is too strong and he lifts his hand to do just that but Dory bats it away.

"Leave it. You're rockin' serious sex hair."

He widens his eyes and Charlie nods emphatically next to him. Another upbeat song starts playing and Dory grabs Charlie's hand. A moment before she's pulled away, she leans forward to say, "Trust us. Leave it."

She grabs his hand at the last minute, forcibly hauling him up with her. He stands in place while they dance around him for a song before finally breaking away to sit down again on a nearby empty couch. He watches Charlie dance, the fringe of her dress sweeping from side to side. Dory twirling her while she giggles.

He catches sight of a familiar face in the crowd for a second and timidly waves in greeting. Ash sees him and strides over, finishing his beer and crushing the can in his hand. He has on what seemed to be a maroon dress shirt in another life but now has the sleeves crudely cut off.

"Dude…" Ash sighs, leaning on the arm of the couch he's sitting on. "Homecoming… what is it anyway?"

"Well, it's a-"

"Excuse to get all ritzed up and drink spiked punch. Here?". He opens his arms wide. There's no punch. Only spike." He laughs at his own joke with his eyes dropping and swaying on his feet. Not knowing what to say, Castiel just nods.

"You're cool, man. You should try talkin' more."

Which is funny since he's hardly talked at all since Ash swanned over.

"Pie, man. Think Dean has it right. Pie.. you can slice it, dice it, square it." He scrunches his face with his eyes closed and Castiel wonders where this semi-lucid conversation is going. "But who wants that much pie? Too much… 9.869604401-"

After a moment, Castiel realizes what the seemingly random string of numbers Ash is rattling off might be.

"Are you reciting the square of pi? By memory?"

"Huh?"

Castiel repeats the question.

"Am I?" Ash hiccups. "Cool."

Then he promptly falls backwards and slumps into an over-stuffed chair, passing out.

"Oh poor thing," Bela comes over sipping her martini. "George, dearest." Some large blond guy with hair cut so it hangs over his eyes comes out of another room.

"Would you mind placing him upstairs in the guest bedroom on the left?"

"Sure," he smiles at her, scooping Ash up easily over his shoulder.

She eyes Castiel while Ash is removed. He finally looks up at her when it becomes evident she isn't leaving

"Having fun?"

"Mm," he makes a noncommittal noise hoping she leaves soon. He didn't like the way she was appraising him slowly over the rim of her drink. And of course, he really didn't want to think anymore about her with Dean.

After another sip, she's gestures with glass at him. "Did Dean do that?"

He frowns before realizes she meant his hair and whatnot. "Oh, yes."

She smirks and takes another sip. Leaning forward so she's eye level with him, she lowers her voice and says, "Bet he enjoyed mussing you up a bit."

She smiles in satisfaction at his blush and saunters away.

Okay he officially did not like Bela. Even if this was her party in her beautiful lavish house, she was kind of a bitch.

Not wanting to be here alone anymore, he gets up to go bathroom. Down the hall to the left, he raises his fist to knock on the appropriate door but stops when he hears a soft moan. Quickly turning back the way he came, he passes several other closed doors with similar happy noises that makes him crave the awful loud pop music again.

He rubs hands over his face and comes to sit back on the same couch, resolving not to move again. Of course, the current song has a thumping beat that nearby couples are grinding to. As the party barrels on and the drinking continues, the dancing has become more obscene and several pairs break off to just kiss in one of the corners of the room. He blushes again trying to look anywhere but at the drunken teens rubbing against each other. Even Charlie is kissing and giggling when Dory pulls her back as she tries to get away. Finally she successfully breaks free and comes to sit on his couch, squeezing between him and the arm even though the rest of it was open.

"Hi." She smiles at him a little goofy.

"Hello. Again."

A couple plop down next to him on his other side and start making out. He just frowns at them in annoyance. When it becomes obvious they are completely oblivious to his presence, he sighs and leans forward to rest his elbows on his knees. He sneaks glances around trying to find where Dean went.

Eventually, he finds him. He's talking to two guys, nodding at what they're saying. Laughing. His eyes crinkle a little when he laughs like that. Charlie's voice intrudes on after a moment. "You've got it so bad," she giggle snorts and he looks over his shoulder at her guiltily.

"What?"

"You're staring again."

Castiel turns back around. "I am not," he says without taking his eyes off Dean. Pamela suddenly walks up to him and is apparently trying to get him to dance by swishing her hips in front of him. The two guys laugh and watch.

"Talk to your girlfriend," Castiel says, absently.

"She's off mingling. And you so are."

He doesn't answer. He's too busy imagining what it'd be like to blast Pam with lasers from his eyes.

"Just go. Kiss your knight in shiny armor. I wanna see him sweep you into his arms like on the cover of a romance novel."

He looks over his shoulder at her. "You're drinking?"

Charlie continues sipping on the pink drink in a clear solo cup he just noticed she had. "Oh this? It's a Shirley Temple. There's nothing in it. It's pink and frilly and oh my god so good." She's slurps on just ice for about a full minute.

He raises an eyebrow at her increasingly silly slur. "I think there might have been something in it."

"Shhh. Stop trying to change the subject. Just go over there and… " She squeezes his cheeks, making fish faces and kissy noises.

He jerks away. "You are being ridiculous." He blushes and turns back to see the overly-flirtatious Pamela is suddenly very much in Dean's space, a hand around his neck and laughing in his ear.

"Oh my god, just nut up, Novak! Fortune favors the bold. Or is it brave? Brave and beautiful. And bold. All those B's, fortune's for them."

"Shut up, Bradbury." He's squinting at them, dread churning in his stomach. Pamela just kissed Dean on the cheek. He can't see Dean's face but he didn't push her away.

Charlie scoffs loudly from behind him, obviously watching too. "Yeah but on the cheek? I kiss my mom on the-"

Pam grabs his face and kisses him on the mouth.

"Oh.. well I uh don't kiss her like that."

"No," Castiel says flatly, turning away as Dean grabs her by the shoulders, grinning but shaking his head. She shrugs and sashays away. Dean looks around then spots them, heading over.

"Hey."

"Lover boy." Charlie says accusatorily, slurping ice angrily if that's even possible.

"Huh?"

She points back toward where he just was. "Oh yeah... ha, ya saw that huh?" He flicks his eyes to Castiel then away who is resolutely set on blank face.

"She's just a friend. Great and all but uh..."

"You don't have to explain," Castiel says as he begins to fix his tie.

"Yeah I know." Dean frowns down at him. "I just wanted you... you both to know she's not anybody to me."

Castiel snorts and looks away.

Tilting his head, Dean asks, "Got something to say, Cas?"

"Not a thing."

"Then what's with the shitty attitude?"

Charlie winces. "Welp ,I'm just gonna go find-"

"Don't you dare," Castiel holds her arm to keep her next to him. "I'm sorry, Dean but is this not the way I always am? Why should anything be different? Go back to your friends. We're fine here."

"You need Charlie to talk to me, now?"

They're silent, glaring at one another and Charlie makes a clumsy break for it, almost spilling her cup of ice when she kicks the coffee table in front of them. "Ouch, ouch, dammit. Um, be right back!"

He darts a look after her then gets to his feet and walks away. He keeps walking without looking back, through flood of people he doesn't know. Past couples making out, someone cheering around a beer keg, laughing and happy music. He just needs quiet. He just needs to think. To breathe.

Castiel walks out into the chilly air and the door closes behind him, abruptly shutting off the noise to a dull beat. Rubbing his face with his hands he shakes his head and then moves to start rolling down his sleeves.

The door opens a moment later and he whirls at the intrusion. "Please just leave me alone."

Dean looks stuck on whether to go back inside or stomp after him. Castiel ignores him to button his right cuff.

Finally Dean growls, "Damnit Cas, I thought we were…"

He stops messing with his sleeves and looks up. "We were what?"

Dean sighs and runs an impatient hand through his hair, "I don't know…"

Turning back around, Castiel coldly answers, "Then I don't either."

"Goddamnit, fine. Whatever."

Castiel spins on him, outraged that he had the audacity to get angry. "What do you want from me?"

Dean just stares at him for several seconds, finally folding his arms. "Why are you so pissed right now?"

"I'm not," he growls.

"Okay. Sure. You're not."

Debating he admits, "So what? I'm angry. I'm not a robot okay?"

Oddly, Dean smiles and walks a little closer, rubbing his finger along his eyebrow. "That really got to you huh? Well that's good. I'm glad you got feelings like the rest of us. So do you even know why you're yelling at me right now?"

"I'm not yelling!"

Dean just raises his eyebrows at how ridiculous that was to be yelled.

"Just stop… stop attacking me."

"I'm not attacking you, Cas. I'm asking you a question you don't wanna answer. And I'm sorry this is hard for you but it ain't freakin' easy for me either."

Dean folds his arms again like he can wait all night.

"And I suppose you know do you?" His voice is sarcastic but there's a touch of fear around the edges.

"I got a couple of guesses."

"Of course you do."

"Well one really."

Rolling his eyes, he turns to go. Anywhere. He'd walk home. He was pretty sure he was about a block from the private school. He could probably find-

"You like me."

Castiel stops, heart hammering. Him saying it out loud like that… it was terrifying.

Dean continues, still with him facing away. "See, I think Pam getting all handsy pissed you off. Tell me I got it wrong."

He's scared of agreeing. Scared of what will happen. Scared of rejection. Just scared. Scared of Dean pressing this and making him admit something. He closes his eyes, breathes out and turns back around. "I… I don't know what you're talking about."

Dean's jaw clenches. "You don't, huh." When he doesn't meet his eyes, he hears the gravel beneath Dean's foot as he turns and starts walking back towards the house. Over his shoulder he yells, "yeah you got no friggin' idea."

Castiel almost calls him back but he can't. The words get stuck in his throat so he's left just looking after him almost about to sob. He balls his fists, digging his nails into his palms. Regret and shame starts flooding in as all the things he could have said pop into his mind. If only he were braver.

Dean's about ten feet away with his hand on the backdoor knob before he mutters, "Screw this."

Castiel lifts his head in time to see he's crossed the distance and is right in front of him. He's suddenly cupping the sides of his face and within a gasp; Dean's lips are on his. He steps back out of surprise but a hand wraps around his neck and keeps him there. He closes his eyes, reaching up to cover the hand still on his face. It's sweet but insistent, Dean catching his lips over and over and tilting Castiel's head where he wants it. The whole thing must only taken a few seconds but he could have lived a lifetime in that moment.

"There," Dean sighs shakily, letting his hands fall to his sides. "You get it now?"

Castiel slowly opens his eyes, almost feeling a little drunk. He has to fight not to lean forward, like Dean's a magnet. He'd say anything to do that again. "No."

Dean's face falls, and he steps back.

"No! I mean yes but, um..." He pauses to lick his lips and smile shyly. "Maybe you can explain it to me some more?"

Dean's green eyes light up and an answering smile touches his lips before it falls away. They just look at each other for a second before he slowly leans forward again.

Author's Note: I'm just going to curl into a ball and hide until I know whether you like this or not. Don't mind me. Also, yes I am fully aware I wrote about 50,000 words before they kissed. If you're still reading, I promise to reward your patience. :)