A/N: Could it be we're nearing the end of our little adventure? I know the answer, but I shan't ruin it for you.

As always, reviews are greatly appreciated. NaNoWriMo has been kicking my butt, so it's nice to see an encouraging word or two to cheer me on. It's nice to know one's work is appreciated.

Dean caught up with Cas outside of the student lounge. Cas, having just finished yelling at someone for not cleaning up after themselves, wasn't in the best of moods. This probably wasn't the best time to cancel their tutoring sessions, but Dean didn't have a choice since he was already running late for practice.

"Hey, Cas? Got a sec?"

Cas glared. "What do you want, Winchester?"

Dean already regretted this. "I, uh... Well, I have to cancel our little tutoring sessions."

He narrowed his eyes. "And why is that?"

"It's not that I'm not grateful and all, but with practice starting up for the season, I just won't have time anymore..."

"You realize that if you fail the class you'll be off the team, right?"

Dean frowned and rubbed the back of his neck. "Yeah..."

"And you'll risk losing your scholarship."

"Yeah, I know. But I need to be at practice, or else I'll be off the team for sure."

"Dean..."

"We can finish this conversation later. I'm gonna be late to practice. Don't wait up."

Dean didn't really have time to ponder the disappointed look on Cas' face because he was running late, and the coach was going to kill him as it was. He ran from the dorm, across campus to the fields. He made it just in time for warm-ups.

Practice started and Dean went through the motions, trying to think of ways to be able to work in time for his tutoring sessions. Near the end of practice, some movement in the nearby bleachers caught Dean's attention. It was a person. It almost looked like Cas, which was insane since Cas had told Dean that he had no interest in sports.

Dean grabbed his gear and approached the bleachers. "Cas?"

Cas silently cursed to himself, and slowly turned to face Dean. "Yes, Dean?"

"What are you doing here?"

He looked down at his feet, "I was going for a walk, and then you called my name..."

"Bullshit. I saw you sitting there."

"I was resting for a minute. What, I can't sit on a bleacher?" Cas started getting a little defensive.

"No. You can't. You hate sports. So why are you following me?"

"Fine! I was making sure you went to practice." Cas crossed his arms over his chest.

Dean just blinked at him, confused. "Why wouldn't I?"

"Hell if I know. I don't know why you do half the shit you do."

He couldn't help but smile at Cas. A sly, half-smile. "Why do you care?"

Cas looked away. "I don't."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Yeah right." He turned, and started walking back towards the dorms. "You coming, or what?"

Cas hesitated for a bit before jogging up behind Dean. "So, you're a pitcher, huh? I always figured you'd be a catcher."

Dean did a double-take. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Cas just smiled at him. "Nothing, Dean... Don't worry about it."

Cas followed Dean back into his room, trying to think of a way to work in Dean's much needed tutoring.

"You've got to have some free time somewhere in your schedule. Maybe if you gave up all that partying?"

Dean laughed. "Yeah right. That's like telling me I can never have pie again."

Cas frowned. "Well, did you have any ideas?"

Dean threw his gear down on his bed, and headed to his dresser. "Listen, Cas. I'm sweaty, sticky, and smelly. I'm going for a shower. You're free to join me if you're insistent on following me."

"Yeah, you'd like that." He watched Dean dig through his drawers and pull out a change of clothes.

"Oh yeah, totally. It's like you're living in my ass." He slammed his dresser drawer shut.

"Look, I'm just trying to help you, Dean."

"Maybe I don't need your help. Ever think of that?" Dean grabbed a towel and stormed out the door to the showers.

"Just give him a few minutes," a voice came from the computer.

Cas sighed, and sat on Dean's bed. "What's his problem, Chuck?"

"Dean has issues with asking for and accepting help. He thinks he has to suffer in silence, or something. Everything is his problem, and his alone."

"God, what an idiot." Cas rolled his eyes, got up, and headed towards the showers.

As he walked in, he heard the water running, so he knew Dean was already in the stall, and hopefully pulling his head out of his ass. He could hear Dean grunting and sighing. He was probably beating himself up for being such a jerk to Cas.

He approached the outside of the occupied shower stall. "Dean!"

Dean let out a startled grunt. "Dammit, Cas. I was just joking about the whole joining me thing."

Cas growled. "That's not why I'm in here."

Dean whined out loud. Actually whined. "Can't I shower in peace?"

"No, Dean. You can't. You need my help, and you're too stubborn to admit it."

"I can do this on my own. Now can you leave, please?"

"I don't think you can, Dean."

Cas waited for a reply, not wanting to argue more with Dean. Dean was oddly silent, with the occasional grunt coming from behind the curtain.

"Oh, god dammit, Dean."

Cas pulled open the curtain, and caught Dean in the act, dick in hand, looking fairly flushed.

"What the hell, Cas!"

"You realize that you're gonna clean that up, right?"

"What? No! I didn't even... you know, finish!"

"Rules are rules. I said if you're caught, you're gonna scrub the shower. Well, I caught you red-handed."

"Can I at least finish if I have to clean it anyway?"

Cas was somewhat dumbfounded by the question. "I, uh... I guess? I'll be in my room when you're, uh... finished. We're not done talking about this."

"Okie dokie." Dean pulled the curtain closed.

Cas just blushed a bit, and turned and walked out of the showers and headed back to his room, crashing down face-first on his bed, sighing loudly. "That man is going to be the death of me."