A/N: Yo small announcement. I already have the next chapter written [entire crowd feints from shock] but okay I have another way i could go with it that's a bit longer and more plotty and fluffy but tbh the version i have right now is hotter soooo basically please review and tell me which sounds better to you! I'm gonna write it out and compare them with my beta (ForeverShippingJohnlock nicki ily) but it would be cool to get the readers' view and shit you know so thank you for reading sorry im stacking up the word count oh who cares this chapter is pretty long anyway ayyy ayyyyy

Chapter Six

"No, hold your fingers like this -"

"That's what I'm doing!"

"No, you're doing it backwards."

"It's a piece of string for God's sake."

"Hey, you said you wanted to know."

Dean looks up and grins. "Yeah. It is kind of fun." His fingers shift in the string. "My dad never taught me to play cat's cradle. I bet Sam's gonna love it."

Cas smiles too, relishing how close his hands have to be to Dean's in order to play the game. They sit cross legged, opposite each other on Cas's bed. "He will. No, Dean, you have to - put your hands like this." He uses his fingers to manoeuvre Dean's so they're pinching a string from underneath. "Now pull with both hands." Dean pulls, and the whole thing changes shape.

"You have a really nice house," Dean comments while Cas is taking his turn.

"Thank you, but it's my parents'. I plan to move out as soon as I can."

"How come?"

"Well, you might not believe me, but this isn't actually a very nice place to live."

Dean raises his eyebrows, but doesn't ask. It's clear he wants to know, though, and Cas trusts him, so he elaborates. "It's just me and my mother and my father. They're never around and I'm alone all the time, and it's cold in this house. You'd think there'd be a room that smelled like old books and leather with an armchair and a fireplace or something, but everything's covered in tile and all the furniture is metal. You have no idea how hard I had to fight to get this," he says, gesturing to his four poster bed and wooden desk.

Dean nods. "Huh. Guess I never thought about it that way."

"What did you think?"

"That if we had money, things would be okay."

This is more personal information than Dean has really told him before, and it's surprising, so Cas frowns and starts to say something but Dean stands up, pulling his hands out of the string, and says, "I should go."

"It's four thirty."

"Yeah, I just..." Dean runs a hand through his hair and scratches the back of his neck.

"Dean." Cas stands too, facing Dean, wanting to put a hand on his shoulder or something but not wanting to freak him out. "We don't have to talk about this anymore, just, don't go." Dean still looks hesitant so Cas says, "I think we have some leftover pie."

Dean's face changes immediately, pursed lips turning to a smile. Cas suspects it's not so much to do with the prospect of food than the notion of changing the subject. "Well, then. Lead the way, Cas."

Cas smiles at the nickname, as he always does.

At five o'clock they're lingering round the kitchen island, plates in the sink, with Cas refusing to tell Dean about the bit of strawberry he has on his cheek. He considers reaching across to wipe it off with the pad of his thumb, indulges himself in the thought, but dismisses it quickly.

"Well," Dean says finally, standing up straight. "I really should be off."

"Yeah, okay."

"I had a nice time," Dean says, and this is usually where he would smile, but he doesn't, just looks at Cas for a second too long before stepping back and walking towards the door.

"Me too," says Cas, walking in front of him to open the door.

A breeze is let in, running through Cas's hair, making it fall into his eyes. He pushes it back with his fingers, and Dean watches with a smirk on his face, eyes following Cas's hand as it falls back down to his side. With Dean's guard down like this, Cas thinks, ah, what the hell, and brings the same hand up to wipe the fruit from Dean's face.

Dean's eyebrows raise, and Cas wiggles his before licking the strawberry off his thumb. "You had some fruit. It was dumb."

"Thanks," Dean says, and smiles. "See you tomorrow."

"Yeah."

Cas watches him as he goes. Dean doesn't turn around, just goes straight to his car and drives off. He clenches the steering wheel so tight that his knuckles go white.

The next morning he sits down next to Balthazar in homeroom and turns to face him with a smile. The other man's handsome face is all pouty, and he says, "You didn't call me."

Cas frowns. "I'm sorry, I thought we would just talk today." This isn't true. He'd completely forgotten. His evening had been spent doing his homework and texting Dean about how Sam was doing with his breakup.

Balthazar immediately grins, and damn if it isn't alluring. "Aw, that's cute. How you doing?"

"I'm okay. You?"

"Tired. Hungover. The usual."

"Hungover?"

"Yep. Listen, do you like roller skating?"

Cas raises his eyebrows, not sure if he's serious. "Uh. I don't think so. I've never tried it."

"Oh, you'd love it. Sounds brilliant. Plus the place nearest here sells beer to minors. You in?"

"Um. I don't know. I'll have to check. I think I have a project due tomorrow." He's stuttering, and it's obvious that he's lying, but no one's asked him out before. Balthazar's eyes are intimidatingly blue, and he's leaning intimidatingly close, and Cas is generally feeling very intimidated. He needs to talk to Dean about this.

"Well, text me when you know. Before the end of the day would be best, darling." Balthazar slaps him on the knee, and proceeds to talk about the night before, and his drunken escapades on a trampoline.

Cas taps his foot on the floor and drums his fingers on the table as he waits for Dean to join him at lunch. He'd practically run out of his lesson because he was so anxious to get this problem off his chest, to find a resolution. In the short time they've known each other, Dean's always seemed to know what's best, how to calm Cas down, and given advice that he'll actually follow.

Dean wanders in about two minutes after the bell and Cas waves him over, having already bought Dean his usual chips and meatball sub and pudding cup and milk. Dean grins and waves back, striding over and sitting down in the seat opposite.

"Man, you bought me lunch? How come?" His voice is curious, sceptical.

"I just need to talk to you about something immediately or I'll freak out." Cas places his elbows on the table, fingers lacing in front of him, and leans forwards.

"What's up?"

"Balthazar asked me out."

"The guy from yesterday? Wow, good job! What's the problem?"

Cas picks at his left thumbnail. "Well, first, he invited me to go roller skating, and I've never been in my whole life, and two, no one has ever asked me out before ever, so I don't know what to do, I don't know if I actually like him, he's kind of intimidating, but he's probably just intimidating cos I'm easily intimidated by cute boys asking me out, oh god –"

"Woah!" Dean cries, putting his hands out in front of him, and then placing them on Cas's shoulders to steady him. "Calm down! It's okay, man." He pulls his hands back. "Now, okay. You don't have to freak out. Let's go through this."

Cas takes a deep breath, focuses on Dean's face.

"You seemed really sure about this yesterday," Dean says, voice steady. "What changed?"

"Well, he asked me out! And that freaked me out!" Cas throws his hands up in desperation.

"Right, right, okay, sorry." Dean chews on his lip, and Cas watches it, concentrates on it to distract himself from his panic. "Do you want to go?"

"I don't know."

"How can you not know?"

"I don't know! I don't know how I don't know!"

"Okay, okay. Uh. Alright. Imagine this." He rubs his hands together, the sleeves of his flannel already pushed up to his elbows. "You're out with this guy. He's hot, right? And he likes you. And you're spending time with him. Like, you're rollerblading or whatever. Now, that might not be very nice cos you're probably gonna suck, but you get to hold his hand. Are you picturing it?"

"Yeah."

"Is it fun?"

"Kind of. I'm really nervous. I keep stumbling over my words."

"Okay, now imagine this. You're at home, and you're wearing sweatpants or pyjamas or whatever you wear in your free time, I don't know. You're reading a book on your bed or in that nice armchair you have by the fire that I totally checked out yesterday, and you're listening to some nerdy music on your phone. But you're thinking about what you turned down, the date with Balshazam."

"Balthazar."

"Whatever. Now, is that more fun?"

Cas frowns. To be honest, he'd rather be at home, but he doesn't at all like the thought of thinking about something he could have done. And he might regret it if he didn't go. At least if he went he'd know for sure whether he wanted to do it again.

"I don't have a ride home," Cas realises suddenly. "I usually get the bus cos I don't have my license or anything."

"Can't he give you a ride?"

"Yeah, but, like, what if it goes badly? I don't want to spend ten minutes in awkward silence."

Dean nods. "Yeah, that's reasonable." He bangs the table with his hand lightly. "Tell you what, I'll give you a ride."

"Really?" A smile appears on Cas's face, much to his own surprise.

"Yeah, I'm your wingman, remember? Just tell him we're having a slumber party or something."

"Okay. I can do that. Thanks, Dean."

"No problem. You want a ride there, too?"

"Nah, it's okay. That's a bit suspicious."

"Good call." Dean settles back in his chair and starts putting the chips into his sandwich again, throwing one into his mouth every now and again. Cas picks up his own sandwich and starts eating too. "So, when do you want me to pick you up?"

"Probably around eight or nine. I'll tell you when I know."

"Feel free to call me early if you need to get out of there. Tell Baltharaz that I'm a whiny bitch and if you don't go with me I'll throw a brick through your window or something."

Cas laughs. "Thanks."

"You nervous?"

"No."

"Do you seriously expect me to believe that."

"Okay, fine, yes."

Dean claps him on the shoulder. "You'll be fine. He's gonna love you. Just talk to him."

Cas nods and eats his food, but really, talking to Balthazar is the thing he's worried about the most.

In Dean's car on the way home, Cas texts Balthazar telling him he can go, and Balthazar offers to give him a ride at 6, which Cas accepts, passing along his address. He turns to Dean and tells him to pick him up at 8, figuring that two hours is more than enough time in which to get to know a person, and probably embarrass himself.

And then he and Dean are standing in his bedroom staring into his closet because he's realised he doesn't actually have any idea what to wear.

"What's that?" Dean asks, pointing.

"That's a tuxedo."

"No, I know what a tuxedo looks like, and that's not a tuxedo."

Cas just rolls his eyes. "I don't think I should wear anything too fancy. I mean, what if I fall over?"

"When you fall over, you're gonna look like an idiot, so you shouldn't dress like one." He pulls out a navy button down. "Just wear this instead of that polo. Your jeans are fine." He holds the shirt up to Cas's body, the back of his hands grazing Cas's chest. "Brings out your eyes," he murmurs.

"Are you sure? What if he shows up in like, a suit, or something?"

Dean snorts. "That's not gonna happen, trust me."

"Okay, fine." He grabs the shirt out of Dean's hands. "Turn around."

"Why?"

"I'm gonna get changed, duh."

"Now? It's in like, two hours. Keep it clean."

"Oh. Okay. Do you want to stay for dinner?"

"You're probably gonna have dinner with Balthaman."

"Oh, right." He runs a hand through his hair and raises his eyes to the ceiling.

Dean puts his hands on Cas's shoulders. Cas likes it when he does that. "Cas, you'll be fine. Text me if you need to."

"This is my first date," Cas says, eyes wide and staring into Dean's.

"I got that."

Cas exhales loudly. "When was yours?"

"Thirteen. Cathy Matthews. We got pizza and milkshake came out my nose."

Cas huffs a laugh. "Nice. Okay, I should shower. I'm sweating more than usual."

Dean nods, crossing his arms across his chest, eyes scanning down Cas's torso. "Yeah, that's probably wise. Good luck, man."

"Thanks."

Dean just keeps nodding a little to himself, and then he takes a step forwards and pulls Cas into a quick hug, slapping him on the back to keep it manly. Cas is so taken by surprise that by the time he's realised what's happening, Dean's pulled away. But it was nice. Warm. Comforting.

"Kick it in the ass," Dean says, and smiles, and leaves.

Cas takes a deep breath and says quietly to himself, "I'm gonna kick it in the ass."

Balthazar drives a car that Cas doesn't recognise. It looks old, though, and it's in good condition, but seeing as it doesn't literally spell out the brand of the car anywhere on it, he's clueless. He pulls up at three minutes past six and honks his horn, and Cas shuts the front door behind him and walks up the drive.

The driver's window rolls down and Balthazar pokes his head out, wolf-whistling. "Hey, sexy," he says when Cas is close.

Cas blushes, turning his face away. "Hello."

"You ready to go?"

"Yes, thanks."

Balthazar starts the engine and they drive off. His car smells like cigarettes and aftershave, and he always has one hand off the wheel. He's wearing a white t-shirt, blue jeans and a black sports jacket.

"Have you been to this place before?" Cas asks, doing the small-talk thing.

"Nope, just heard a lot about it. I have this motto for first dates, that you should always do something that neither of you have done before. That's the best way to get to know a person, you see."

Cas nods. "That makes sense. Have you got anything planned?"

Balthazar turns to him briefly and says, "Oh, I've got a lot of things planned," before turning away, leaving Cas's heart in danger of, like, exploding.