Lip Rings and Football Jerseys

by impalaskey

Dean Winchester was not a romantic. He didn't do relationships- no holding hands or chaste kisses in the hallways. He has a list of one-night stands and broken hearts the size of Santa's naughty list, even as a freshman. That was before. Before Castiel. Castiel Novak was the boy with the hair that matched his eyes. He was the boy with the lip ring, the boy who liked a freshman. But

2. Chapter 2

He was angry. Or, at least, sexually frustrated. He'd climbed into his father's car grumbling about, "stupid fucking cute seniors." His dad had just regarded him with a stern look.

Hours later, after it had gotten dark enough for Dean to turn his light on, his phone chimed. Absently, he picked it up, finishing up the last sentence on his English homework before looking at the text.

Unknown Number: You look like you need a break.

Dean: Um. What?

Unknown Number: I can't believe I've never watched you get dressed. Or undressed.

Dean: Who is this?

Unknown Number: Guess.

Dean frowned down at his phone. How was he supposed to-

Dean: You literally just walked away from me earlier. How the hell did you get my number?

Unknown Number: My younger brother is friends with yours.

Dean: Where are you?

Unknown Number: I've lived next to you for three years.

Dean looked up from his phone, sending a worried look to the window.

Dean: How long have you been watching me, creep?

Unknown Number: Like 10 minutes. Calm down.

Dean got up from his desk, slowly crossing the room to stand in front of his window. He studied their roofs, deliberately ignoring Castiel's gaze. After a moment, he raised his eyes to meet Castiel's. The boy grinned and Dean looked back at his phone to avoid the blush.

Dean: You could climb across the roofs pretty easily.

There was a pause. Castiel was staring down at his phone with a smirk, thumbs hovering over the keyboard. He looked up at Dean, raised an eyebrow, then started to type.

Unknown Number: You want me over there? I thought I was a creep.

Dean: You're too cute to be creepy.

Instead of answering, Castiel got up. He opened his window, crawled across the roofs, and waited patiently as Dean opened the window. He clambered in and Dean busied himself with closing the window as Castiel crossed the room.

He plopped down on Dean's bed like he'd done it a million times. He kicked off his shoes and situated himself near the top of the bed, where all the pillows were.

Pulling his knees up to his chest, he said, "So, you think I'm cute, huh?"