"So you're, like, gay now?"

The nervous smile drops from Dean's face as he jerks his head in the direction of the question. "What? No."

The thin skater flicks his head to the side but a wedge of shaggy blond hair stays across his confused face. "You were just kissing a dude, dude."

Another voice pipes up to the left. "Stupid, he's bi. I mean you are right? You aren't totally off girls, are you?"

Still blushing from the brief public kiss, Castiel grimaces at the rapidly growing circle of murmuring onlookers. Benny clasps Dean on the back of the neck and squeezes. "Thanks, Brother. You got me outta goin' to the Winter Dance."

Andrea huffs with her arms crossed. "Well thanks, Dean. You couldn't have waited maybe another week?"

"What?" Dean looks a little overwhelmed at all the questions being lobbied at him when someone else suddenly says, "I thought only girls were bi. Are you sure you're not just gay?"

"Oh my god! This is so adorbs!" The purple-haired punk girl coos over them. "Kiss again! Raven didn't see it. C'mere Raven! Dean and Castiel are going to kiss again!""

Original skater boy who seems like his head is hurting asks, "So I don't get it, you're bi then? Whoa, wait, you ever scope me out?" He raises an eyebrow, at the same time narrowing his eyes a little.

"What? No! Jesus, man, I'm not out cruising dudes or something. I still like chicks… I- I don't know about the bi whatever shit, I just.. Christ. It's not like-" He cuts off frustrated, worrying his lip in agitation. "It's only Cas, alright?"

Charlie grins suddenly and proclaims, "he's Cas-sexual."

There's a moment of silence.

"No, he's bi," another girl corrects as if Charlie is dense.

Before anyone else can ask yet another question and freak Dean out any more, he takes his hand without giving him a chance to resist and leads him away. He goes along with only a single tug and the conversation continues behind them without their presence.

"Are you okay?"

Dean's hand spasms a little in his as they enter the doorway back into the school and leave the noise of the courtyard behind them. After a moment with no response, Castiel grips his hand tighter to make him stop now that they have some privacy.

Dean lets go to shake out his arms like he's restless. "M'fine."

He can only take it a moment more before can't stand it any longer and practically jumps him. "I can't believe you did that!" Castiel beams, grabbing his shoulders and kissing him enthusiastically.

Pulling back, Dean's not quite meeting his eyes. "Yeah, well, it's what you wanted right?"

"Yes. I just didn't expect... expect you to… like that!" In his excitement, it takes Castiel a second or two to realize he's not kissing back half as eagerly and he tilts his head a little to see his face. Dean's looking off somewhere to his right, jaw slightly tense. "What's wrong?"

Shaking his head, Dean gives him a forced smile. "Nothin'." He leans in to brush his lips but pulls away right afterward, shifting his weight back on his heels so he's out of Castiel's personal space.

Watching him with concern, he offers, "I understand you are probably nervous."

Dean still doesn't look at him.

"That couldn't have been easy," he ventures trying to figure out the proper way to soothe someone in this situation. He wasn't great at knowing the right thing to say at the best of times but he very much wants to say the right thing for Dean - Dean who made grand romantic gestures for him. Taking his hand and with more eye contact than he's usually able, Castiel sincerely says, "But I'll be with you."

"Yeah, now." Dean mutters under his breath.

"What?"

The bell rings, giving Dean the excuse he apparently needs to take a step away from him and he drops his hand back to his side. "Look I gotta get going."

"Okay.." He presses his lips, knowing things are not magically fixed between them. He felt off-footed, not wanting to be rejected but having to try something. They had to talk. He had to fix this. "Do you work today? Maybe we could…" he trails off self-consciously. "Hang out?"

Already walking backwards, Dean nods giving him another small smile in return. It's nothing like the one that makes his eyes crinkle."Yeah. You can come over if you want."

"Okay," he quickly agrees. "I'd like that."

Dean nods one last time before turning around and slinging his bookbag over his shoulder.

Castiel frowns after him. Dean came out. For him. Dean kissed him in front of all their friends. Dean wants to be with him. It should be perfect but it doesn't look to be that easy.

Two controllers sit abandoned to their right and the soft lip smacking is drowning out the ambient noise of their game left on the YOU ARE DEAD screen. With Dean's hand's running up and down his sides and his lips firm and clever against his own, it's easy to pretend nothing is wrong between them. That nothing was ever wrong. That they never stopped doing this because everything just feels so finally right again.

Sure, Dean had been a little quiet when he met him out at the parking lot but that was to be expected. It was only natural for him to be a little preoccupied, maybe even afraid though he doubted Dean would ever admit to it. And the way he'd done it- kissing him for everyone to see. Right there in the middle of the courtyard. It was worthy of some bodice-ripper cover that Charlie was teasing about at the party. For all that, he could give Dean all the time he needed to get used to the idea and try to make it easy as possible for him.

So he'd endured the awkward car ride over to his house and when he asked again what was wrong, Dean had just given that off smile and kissed him. And Castiel had let himself be distracted because they were kissing again and god how he'd missed this. Missed Dean. But dammit of course something wasn't right and the longer they kissed the more his stomach twisted with anxiety. He had to ask. He was going to ruin it but he had to ask.

"Dean-" but it gets swallowed. Turning his head a little to the side, he softly asks, "Should we talk?"

"I'd rather do more of this." He tries to dip his head to catch his lips again but Castiel evades him.

"Do you need to talk about… well how you're handling-"

"Cas." He tugs him close again by the tie. "I don't wanna talk about it."

"But you're okay with-."

"Peachy." He holds him there by a hand on the back of his neck.

Castiel sighs into his mouth, giving in. Maybe he can just try again in a few minutes. Remembering they need to talk doesn't become so important with Dean's fingers twisting in his hair and yanking his head back to mouth at his neck. The small zing of pain in his scalp makes something in his belly clench.

Dean's moving faster than they have in the past. Usually it would take long minutes for his hands to start roaming but they're already to as far as they'd gone before everything went so wrong. He even finds himself leaning in and pushing back just as hard against slick lips, not the least bit hesitant anymore when it came to this. He doesn't have a room in his fuzzy head to dwell on nerves or wonder where he should be putting his own hands. Castiel just squeezes Dean's broad shoulders and holds on.

At some point when he was paying more attention to his tongue than where his hands were, Dean must have untucked his shirt because he shivers when a fingertips slide underneath to touch his bare skin. All the same wandering touches feel shockingly more intimate when skin to skin. And they'd felt plenty intimate before. He doesn't quite know whether to flinch away or rub against the fingertip that passes over his nipple. Thankfully, it moves away and he doesn't have to think about it. Should he touch Dean somewhere? Does he want him to? Should he ask? No, that would ruin it, he was sure.

"You're thinkin' too much." Dean nips his lip, promptly earning back his attention.

Shifting a little forward, Dean pushes his left hand up the back of his shirt, freeing his other to move steadily south. Castiel's breathing hitches as without pause it brushes over his half-hard front. He gasps, jerking slightly while gripping Dean's biceps painfully hard.

Dean murmurs, "this okay?" against his mouth, a thumb tracing the now very defined bulge in his slacks. He barely even gives it a thought before nodding quickly and pushing back frantically against his mouth. Because everything was okay. Finally. The little niggling feeling that everything was anything but disappears. Dean was here and with him and touching him in a way no one else had. It was scary and perfect all rolled up in a ball of growing tension. His heart thuds so fast he might pass out but he won't be the one to tell Dean to stop.

Tilting his head to deepen the kiss again, Dean rocks his palm back and forth causing a small whimpering noise he wishes he could have stopped.

"Dean…" His fingers spasm where they seem permanently glued to his arms.

"Mm," he acknowledges back dipping his head to mouth at neck, along his jaw. Castiel eyes roll up heavenward, briefly staring at an AC/DC poster without really seeing it.

Without stopping that glorious rubbing or the suction at his pulse, Dean reaches up and grabs one of the hands gripping his arm. He moves it inbetween them, right against his tightened jeans where his stiff erection is pushed firmly against Castiel's splayed hand.

"Fuck, Cas.." Dean sighs into his neck, stopping his own hand moving for a second.

They're both frozen for a moment, labored breathing the only sound between them. Eventually, spurred on by Dean's reaction and a little high on endorphins, Castiel tentatively closes his hand and squeezes. Dean immediately groans deep behind pressed lips and rears up to look him in the face. They lock eyes, his possibly a little wider with worry he did the wrong thing but the bright fever in Dean's eyes says the opposite. He takes in the swollen lips, pink cheeks, freckles popping out everywhere and Castiel is the one to dive back into the kiss first, both of them instantly back to moving their respective hands again.

He doesn't know how this is supposed to end besides the very obvious but he can't stop.

It's intense. Overwhelming. Hands rolling, tracing, making him rock into that pressure to chase that blissful rush just as Dean is, bucking against his firm fingers. Faster. Firmer. Harder. Until he can barely grab a breath.

He's going to - oh god – he's really going to-

BAM! BAM! BAM!

A loud series of heavy thuds jars them both out of the happy bubble of teenage lust that had wrapped around them. Castiel almost falls backwards when the arm that had been around his back disappears and Dean's hand is suddenly covering his mouth. Dazed, he frowns at him then past Dean's shoulder over at the wooden door rattling in its frame.

"Dean!"

"Shit," he breathes, closing his panicked eyes in a wince. Castiel watches him lick over his lips and swallow once before calling back a gruff, "yeah?"

"You makin' dinner or what?"

Dean rubs a sweaty hand down his face before yelling back through the door. "Yeah, be there in a minute!"

"Turn the damn game off and get out here! I gotta leave early tonight."

The second footfalls stomp away, Dean pushes up and to his feet. "Holy shit," he groans, beginning to pace in a tight circle while rubbing both hands down his face. Looking down and noticing his obvious erection, he sits on his bed and puts a pillow over his lap.

Trying to get his bearings, Castiel props his arms behind himself. It was difficult to change gears so quickly, figuratively speaking. He'd been right on the edge of… well that was obviously done and maybe it was for the best. That would have been awkward or maybe not. Not that he'll know now. A small spike of hurt or loss or something close to it tries to slip in. He wanted to be back in that perfect adrenaline-rush of a moment only a couple dozen seconds ago. He wanted that closeness back but now he was crash landed back to reality. And the reality was Dean curling around a pillow like it can kill the remainder of his erection.

Did he regret letting Dean touch him like that? He absolutely enjoyed it at the time. Clutching each other, pushing back against those frantic touches… focus. Perhaps he's just a little annoyed at the abrupt end and the way Dean won't even look at him now. He watches Dean fret in place. Should he go to him? Last time his father unexpectedly interrupted him, Dean had closed himself off, seeming to need space. Quietly he says, "Dean, he didn't see anyth-"

"Think I might be having a panic attack. Holy shit!"

"You said that already."

Dean just tosses the pillow aside and gets up to pace again.

"Dean! Everything's alright."

He clutches his chest stealing glances back at the door every few seconds between running a shaky hand down his face. "Fuck and today after that..."

"I thought you were okay with that." He sits up a little straighter. "You said you were 'peachy.'"

"I had to be right? You didn't give me a whole helluva lotta choices there, Cas."

Castiel's brow furrows and he looks away to frown down at the carpet. Realization of Dean's muttered comment earlier starts to hit him. "I didn't think-"

"Yeah you didn't think!" Dean paces back towards him. "All you did was say I was like that douchebag jock and stomp off and, oh yeah, refuse to talk to me."

He's quiet, the instinctive righteous anger he'd previously felt not rising up to combat Dean's accusation. Because he was right. He hadn't even wanted to listen to what Dean had to say because he was pretty sure whatever it was was going to hurt. And he couldn't handle that. All he could think over and over was why couldn't they hold hands like other people. Why could they only kiss when they looked both ways to make sure no one was watching. Why did he have to watch girls laugh and smile at Dean like he didn't have someone. He'd been selfish. The silence stretches and he feels worse by the second, digging himself mentally deeper. Dean hadn't wanted to come out but he had for him… and now he would resent him for it. Any warmth from just a few minutes ago fades. He doesn't try to defend himself, just waits for Dean to tell him to get out.

"I'm not like him," Dean says to the floor with his hands at his hips.

He doesn't respond. He needs to leave if Dean's not going to kick him out. His dad was waiting for him. Slowly, Dean comes over and crouches down in front of him. He ducks his head to make eye contact. The urge to bolt was ever increasing but a hand on his knee is keeping him there.

"I couldn't stand you thinkin' that, Cas."

He glances up through stinging eyes, seeing Dean shift to sit down opposite him.

"You not some dirty secret to me, you hear me?"

Castiel bows his head again not able to meet his eyes this close. Swallowing the lump in his throat, he answers, "it was selfish of me. I see that now. I can… I'll go."

"What? That'd be a dumbass thing to do."

He elevates his gaze to give a confused look. "But, aren't we-"

"Things are screwed up so we talk until they're not anymore. That's what people do, Cas. They sit down and have these uncomfortable ass freaking talks to fix things."

He doesn't know what else to say so he just sits there feeling miserable. After a moment he hears a long sigh. "Look, maybe… maybe I needed a kick in the ass or I never woulda done anything too."

To his hands, Castiel mumbles, "I just thought… it doesn't matter now."

Dean cups his face to make him look up. "No tell me." After darting a look back over his shoulder at the door as if to make sure it's still locked, he says, "It's not like I got a lot of relationships under my belt but what I do know is if you don't talk, shit goes south real quick."

After he still doesn't answer, Dean dips his head to kiss him gently- just enough to get him looking up and leaning towards him again. It was unconscious, like Dean's lips could solve it all but it was only a trick and he was back to talking again. "Listen, I'm the last one in the freaking world that wants to have a Coldplay moment or whatever but you can't shut down and stop talking to me every time I piss you off. Odds are it's gonna happen again. Your way of dealing with crap is to cut and run. Or stonewall."

"What does that mean?"

"You close up tighter than a virgin's-" he smirks, stopping himself and just shrugs. "And that's not how it's gonna work. It can't work that way." He rubs a thumb along his jaw and smiles. "And Cas, I kinda want it to work."

"I'll try. I guess I didn't fully realize how upset I would be. I know I said I was okay with waiting for you but after Michael, all I could think of that you were ashamed of me."

The pad of Dean's thumb circles the hinge of his jaw, then slides back towards his mouth. They meet eyes as he rubs it just below Castiel's bottom lip and he stops casting nervous glances at the door for a moment. "It wasn't like that."

"And then girls would flirt with you and-"

"Cas, I didn't want none of those other girls. I wanted- " He sighs. "I want you."

He dips his head down again in Dean's hands. "What you did- I shouldn't have pushed you into it." He shakes his head, frowning hard at the carpet.

"Ask me if I'd do it again."

Castiel doesn't look up.

"I would, Cas. Yeah, I'm freaked out. Yeah, I was pissed you shut down on me, but if you were this wrecked over it then…" he throws his hand out to the empty air. "Then yeah, I can handle this."

After checking his face to see the truth of it in his eyes, Castiel takes Dean's hand and pulls him back, kissing him before he's even all the way to his knees. There's a moment where his eyes might be damp and this kiss a little wet but Dean doesn't seem to mind.

"Hey, it's okay," he says softly when they finally break away. "It's gonna be alright."

"I shouldn't have refused to listen," Castiel whispers. Clearing his throat, he finishes, "I'm sorry."

"Me too." Dean grins at him. "Hey, first fight and first makeup." He waggles his eyebrows suggestively, causing him to laugh involuntarily and roll his head. The growing part of him that wanted to preserve this boy's smile at all costs was a little frightening.

The smile falls too soon and Dean drops his hand, causing his heart to stutter. What now?

"Cas, look. You gotta realize… my dad, I can't do what I did at school with him okay? I can't.. I just, I can't-"

He cups Dean's face, trying to sooth him now. "It's okay." He smiles small, shaking his head quickly. "I understand. I don't need you to."

Dean breathes out, shoulders slumping in obvious relief.

"What would have happened if he'd seen us?"

Dean's bitter laugh turns into a groan as he rubs over his eyes. "Man, you got no idea. I got no idea. I don't even wanna think –" His eyes widen suddenly as he tilts his head a little. "Jesus, you got a… here." After leaning to the side, Dean snatches up a grey hoodie from the floor and pulls it over his head.

"Dean, I have a jacket."

"Yeah well it's not gonna cover that."

He reaches up to blindly touch a spot on the side of his neck Dean can't seem to stop staring at.

"You seem to have a habit of doing that," he comments, wishing he could see it.

Dean groans.

"Not that I mind. At all."

He pinches the bridge of his nose until Castiel takes his hand down. When Dean looks up, he kisses him gently. "He won't find out. It's going to be alright, remember?"

Dean swallows hard. "Yeah." He throws a look over his shoulder again. "Look as much as I'd love to…" he takes a minute to look him up and down in a way that causes Castiel to blush. "… continue where we left off, I gotta go-"

"Go. It's fine. And I um really enjoyed... that."

Dean just raises an eyebrow. "Yeah? It wasn't too much?"

Castiel coyly looks away. "It was very close to being too much."

"Huh?"

"I mean…" His cheeks feel flushed. "I almost, well..."

"Ohh." Dean smirks. "Well damn now it's going to be hard as hell to focus on not slicin' a finger off when I'm cutting onions out there."

Getting to his feet he pulls Castiel up in his wake and walks towards the door, dropping his hand before he opens it.

"And for you..." he asks, trying to sound casual. "It was… okay, too?"

Dean jerks him close by a belt loop. "It was hot as hell." He says from an inch away.

Castiel leans half the gap closer, murmuring, "So I take it you still want to see me?"

"Think I could be persuaded," Dean smiles into the brief brush of their mouths keeping it chaste until Castiel pushes firmly into it. Dean tilts his head, automatically deepening it.

"Ugh, really didn't need to see that."

"Sam!" Dean jerks away from the crack of the open door, slamming it in his face in one quick motion.

"Shit."

Sam just immediately opens it again. "Hi to you too."

He winces sympathetically in Dean's direction before turning to his brother. "Hello, Sam."

"Hi, Castiel."

"Hey, uh it's um… see Cas and me were just... well-"

"C'mon. Like I didn't already hear about it."

"What? How? What?"

"Jess' cousin who dates Amy in freshman year who heard it from-"

Dean holds up a palm. "I get it."

Stepping between them, Sam puts a hand on each of their shoulders. "Well Dean, grats. Cas, condolences."

Dean smacks him upside the back of the head. "Shut up, will ya?"

Finding it easier to smile now, Castiel says, "I believe you should be nice to your brother, Sam. He's making dinner."

"Spaghetti night?"

Dean grunts something distractedly and Sam grins big. "Cool. Have your freak out about me knowing later. Make dinner now. I'm just going to go find the bleach to wash out my eyes real qui-" He ducks out the door before Dean can smack him again.

Dean barely turns back to him before they both hear, "Dean! Get your ass out here already!"

"Alright!"

"I'll text you later, if you want that is."

Snorting, Dean rolls his eyes. "Yeah Cas, you better."

He walks past him to leave but Dean catches him arm. "I'm sorry for him. Whatever he says."

"I'll be fine, Dean."

"Just head for the door maybe he won't notice you. And give me a headstart. After earlier…" he blushes slightly and Castiel's immediately reminded of just how close they were to … that.

Castiel blushes too as Dean walks out. He gives him a minute head start and almost follows before he remembers to grab his messenger bag. He spins around for a second, trying to remember where he'd haphazardly thrown it when Dean was busy trying to kiss him senseless. There, it'd apparently gotten shoved halfway under the bed. He grabs it but it's caught on something. Another tug and it reveals a skateboard wheel got tangled in the strap. Pulling it gently trying not to harm Dean's prized board, if that were possible, he's surprised to see what emerges from underneath. It's only a broken half of Dean's red and blue board he'd seen so often. Castiel frowns at the jagged wood at the other end and almost ducks down to check for the other half but after hearing that raised deep voice from the kitchen he pushes it back under the bed. Throwing his bag over his chest, he exits the bedroom, closing Dean's door quietly behind him.

He has to pass the kitchen on the way out, there's no way to avoid it. The pleasant smell of onion, garlic and olive oil float out into the hallway he's in. Trying to make himself as small as possible, he walks with eyes set on the door.

"You again?"

Castiel freezes and turns toward the voice. Grabbing the string of the hoodie, he tugs it a little tighter around his neck hoping it will do its job of hiding the hickey. "Yes, sir."

Scratching at a few days worth of beard growth, Dean's dad squints to focus on him. "What are you doin' creeping around my house?"

He looks up with wide eyes, licking over his lips nervously. Were they swollen or pink? Could he tell what they'd been just doing? Obviously from Dean's cues, it wouldn't be a good thing if he figured it out. When the man just continues to look at him, it becomes apparent he expects some kind of answer.

"Cas was hangin' out earlier, Dad. He's gotta head out though," Dean says barely looking at him from where he's sizzles and stirs ground beef at the ancient stove.

John takes a swallow from the beer in front of him as he continues to evaluate him. He seems more lucid than the bleary-eyed individual that he'd encountered previously in Dean's doorway and it was hard not to fidget under his heavy gaze.

"Sit down a second."

Dean turns around. "Dad, he's gotta-"

"He can't take two goddamn minutes to sit and talk with me?"

Clearing his throat to regain the focus from Dean, Castiel leaves the safety of the doorway and walks towards the table. "It's fine. I have a few minutes."

"See?" John gestures at Dean who angrily turns away to dump out boiling pasta in a strainer. "Thinks I'm gonna embarrass him or something in front of his friends."

Castiel gives a strained twitch of lips he hopes is a smile. He knows Dean wants him out of the house as quick as possible but he couldn't let his presence or lack thereof cause a fight, could he? Maybe he should have. Then as John seems to just stare at him a full minute, he immediately wishes he'd just left. Don't look at Dean. Don't look at Dean. What if he does and looks at him the wrong way or for too long?

Finally, he bothers to ask, "What's your name again, kid?"

"Castiel."

John Winchester grunts a laugh. "What kinda names that supposed to be?"

"Russian," Dean pipes up just as Castiel says, "Hebrew. It's an angel."

John stares at him harder and sits up a little.

It's a little too quiet. He can't stop his mouth from explaining further. Glancing at Dean's hunched shoulders, he continues, "In the bible. My mother-"

"You a religious nut then?" He leans forward, smiling but its mean. Fluttering the fingers of one hand in front of him, he asks, "God, devil, the whole she-bang?" John snorts when Castiel remains quiet with slightly wider eyes. Taking a swig from his beer, he mutters, "S'all horseshit."

"Sammy! Dinner!" Dean yells as he puts steaming bowl of meatsauce and noodles in front of his dad but he doesn't even look at it. Castiel feels caught in the dark glare and Dean can't help him.

"I don't presume to know one way or the other, Sir." At least he was being honest, which apparently Mr. Winchester liked because out of nowhere he starts to chuckle. Dean seems to untense and goes to call out once again for his brother down the short hallway.

"Sir?" He smirks and takes another deep sip, staring at him over his bottle. "That's good. Respectful. I like that." He lolls his head back a little to yell towards the kitchen doorway. "Hear that, Dean? Fucking respectful friend you got there."

Dean just crosses the kitchen to drop a greasy frying pan in the sink a little harder than it seemed necessary.

As Sam comes through the door and plops in a chair next to him, John tells Dean to bring some over for the angel. Dean does without another word, apparently deciding that fighting his dad at this point wouldn't do any good.

He tries to barely make eye contact when a bowl is left for him, then Sam, and Dean eventually sits down at the table across from him to start eating. John takes a bite then without looking up at him says, "Well, eat, Cas-tee-el. Looks like you could use some meat on your bones."

"Thank you for dinner."

Dean shrugs. "It was just spaghetti."

Castiel covers his hand and scoots an inch closer. "It was fantastic."

Even in the muted light of the streetlamp, he can see Dean flush of pride. "Thanks. Sorry about-"

Castiel kisses him.

Dean kisses back.

For several minutes all is right in Castiel's world, until Dean pulls away to say, "Cas, I gotta know, when we we're talking…"

"You mean when I wasn't talking," he solemnly says.

"I'm not bringing it up because of that." He frowns at the dashboard and says quietly. "I gotta know, did you… hurt yourself? Because of me?"

Castiel's chews his lip. He hadn't but he didn't just jump to say that. He needed to figure out how to say it, how to explain it right.

"I didn't."

Dean closes his eyes and exhales deep. "Good."

"But Dean…" He opens them, wincing like he expects something worse. "You… if it happens, it's something I did. Something I'm dealing with. I can't… I'd hate to think you were with me because you were worried I'd... that would ruin it okay?"

Dean actually barks out a laugh.

"What?"

"Cas, you think it's out of obligation or something I'm with you?"

"I… well, no but-"

"Look, I'm not that selfless. I mean, we'd be friends no matter what and I'd want you to take care of yourself but I'm not just trying to babysit you okay? Or else this went to a weird babysitter fetish file in my spank bank that I'm not sure I'm cool with."

Castiel tilts his head in confusion before he connects the dots. "Oh. No I don't believe that's one of my 'spank bank files' either."

He traces fingers up and down Castiel's inner arms like he sometimes does. "You try anything on that list yet.

"A little," he sheepishly agrees. He didn't even try to pull his arms away.

Dean smiles. "Good. I'm proud of ya. If nothing else call me. We'll figure whatever it is out, okay?"

He nods though he's not sure he would ever do that. All of the sudden it feels a little scary, like Dean's actually expecting him to never have to again. His stomach knots but Dean's smiling so he tries to as well.

To change the topic, he asks, "Dean, have you been able to go back to the skatepark lately or have you been working too much?" It was a backhanded way to ask about the splintered skateboard he'd found.

Dean's smile drops completely. "I, uh, yeah I've been working too much."

He waits but he doesn't offer anything else. When Castiel claimed he didn't understand the point of skateboarding once, that it just seemed an easy way to get a concussion, Dean had said you get a minute there where you feel like you're flying. It was addictive. And right then he could see that in the other boy's bright eyes.

Dean self-consciously looks up from fiddling with the keyring.

"Dude, you're creepster staring."

He looks away at the dashboard, knowing whatever happened, Dean wasn't going to feel comfortable talking about it right now.

"I was just thinking, I hope you get the free time to do what you want soon."

Dean shrugs. "Yeah. Well don't worry about it."

He looks back towards his house. "I should go in."

"Yeah I guess you should."

"Are you going to be okay? With everything out at school?"

"Yeah. I'll be fine. Just wish I wasn't so…"

"Scared?"

He immediately knows that was the wrong word when Dean just snorts at that. "Don't be stupid. I'm only scared of snakes and store bought pie."

Castiel doesn't smile. He leans forward to kiss him one last time. "Thank you."

Dean nods. He takes a second to pull down the collar of the hoodie to find his mark on Castiel's throat and smirk at it then leans back to his side of the car behind the wheel.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Dean."

"Yeah. You will."