The sound of an alarm clock snapped Dean out of a dreamless sleep. He looked at the clock and bolted upright. He could not be late for his first day at the studio. He quickly showered and leaned over the sink, splashing cold water on his face to wake up. He locked eyes with his reflection and steeled his nerves. Deep breaths, in and out, this is for Sammy. Dean had transferred to UC Santa Cruz to be closer to him at Stanford. Every cent he made at his three jobs went to tuition payments.

While he was more than comfortable working a lot, putting in extra hours at the Roadhouse and Singer's Auto Body, he wasn't quite sure about this new one. His friend (practically his sister) Jo Harvelle had turned him onto the gig. His thoughts drifted to their previous conversation.

"Seriously Jo? Nude modeling?!"

"Well you asked me to find you a job at the college! It's good money and you just lay there for some future starving artists. It's not like you don't enjoy people checkin' ya out all the time anyway!"

"This is different Jo!"

"How? You take the robe off, lie down, think about anything else but Busty Asian Beauties for an hour, and you get paid! Now do you want it or not?"

"How do you know so much about this?"

"None of your damn business, do you want the job?"

Dean had eyed Jo suspiciously but told her to pass his name along to the art instructor. And now here he was preparing for his first sitting. Jo was right, he didn't mind people checking him out. His preferences were far from picky; women and men alike had caught his interest and attention. He knew he was good looking and spent time making sure he wouldn't disappoint those he invited to bed. But this? What have I gotten myself into?

He pulled up to the parking lot in his pride and joy, the '67 Chevy Impala his dad had passed onto him. The rumble of the engine cut out and he got plenty of looks as he stepped out into the warm fall air. Making his way to the Fine Arts building, he breathed in the fresh California air. He missed the seasons of the Midwest, but he enjoyed the Bay Area and the proximity to his little brother Sammy, who was now only an hour or so away.

Dean walked into the studio and met up with Pamela Barnes, the eclectic art instructor.

"Dean! Welcome! I'm so happy you were able to take over for Jo!"

Well there are my suspicions confirmed, "Thanks for hiring me Pam. Now where can I strip down?"

Forcing confidence and bravado was one of his specialties. Dean could bury his nerves very deep when needed and as Pam led him to the changing room and handed him a clean robe, he just kept repeating in his mind: Deep breaths, deep breaths in and out, it's just another job, it's money for Sammy, no big deal, deep breaths.

Pam directed him to the podium in the center of the room. He could see every type of student setting up easels and all sorts of art crap at their stations. As his eyes scanned the room, they rested on one individual in the back. He couldn't quite get a decent look at his face. The man was busying himself with his canvas and all Dean could register was thick dark hair that looked like someone had run their hands through over and over again. Hmmm he thought maybe this job will be more fun than I thought it would be.

Dean took off his robe and let Pam pose him lying down on his side with his back facing the dark haired man.

"Alright, you have 50 minutes for this first session." Pam's voice rang out in the studio and Dean let his mind wander. Trying to keep his face impassive he sifted through thoughts of the work he was doing at the garage, fixing up an old Chevelle, to his shift last night behind the bar. He tried not to let it wander to the sex haired man behind him. The last thing he needed was to be sporting a semi when he was bare ass naked in front of a bunch of students.

Dean's mind went blank as the minutes ticked on, it was pretty relaxing being able to just lie there and be drawn. He could feel many sets of eyes raking his toned torso and legs. He guessed there were about ten minutes on the clock when he felt the hairs on his neck stand up. It seemed as if there was some sort of electricity coursing through him from behind. He shivered minutely and the feeling ebbed but did not pass completely.

Much to his relief, Pam called out that time was up and everyone began packing up. Dean quickly shrugged on the robe and felt the tingling cease. Just nerves, that's it just a little nervous being on display.

Dean stood and noticed that the dark haired man was talking quietly with Pam. He tied the robe and made a loop around the classroom, eager for his chance to see more. He could see the man's canvas and Dean, as uninformed about art as he was, could see the skill the young man had. As he walked up behind him, he could tell he was well built, slighter than himself but with defined musculature under the thin t-shirt. The shoulders created the perfect slope to quite the ass. Impatient to see the front Dean decided to speak,

"Damn I'm hot!" he exclaimed, willing the artist to turn around. As he got what he wanted, it seemed his heart skipped a little. To say this man was attractive seemed to be a severe understatement. Sharp cheekbones and jaw line were complemented perfectly by the bluest of eyes. Dean was shocked, how could eyes be that blue?!

Pamela had started to chastise him but Dean barely heard her, as much as he hated "chick flick moments" he could not stop staring into those sapphire pools. An adorable blush had crept up this man's face and Dean couldn't help but smile at the thought that it might be for him. This was only confirmed when the man opened his mouth and out popped

"…beautiful."

Dean smiled brighter in hopes of coaxing out another utterance from the man. He seemed to shake himself a little before sticking his slender hand out and introducing himself.

"Hey I'm Castiel Novak." And good lord that voice! Did this guy gargle with gravel, so deep and rough, all Dean could think about was having this man, Castiel, say his own name.

He took Castiel's hand, he had a surprisingly firm grip and relayed his own name.

"Dean Winchester."

Dean's knees wanted desperately to knock together as he felt that same electric tingle he'd felt on the podium creep through the handshake.

Holy shit, I've got to get to know this guy! Deep breaths Dean come on pull it together. Deep breaths!