Summary: The eight times Dean Winchester and Castiel Novak had a surprise encounter, and the one time it was on purpose. Just a nice little Destiel College AU in which Castiel is a hapless freshman and Dean is a helpful and friendly senior. Basically an excuse for me to practice my lemons that somehow gained some plot.
Disclaimer: Dean, Cas, Bela, Crowley, and any other Supernatural characters who are seen or mentioned in this chapter (and the rest of the fic) belong solely to Eric Kripke. If I owned Supernatural I'd already have the pair of boots I want, but I'm not an owner or co-owner of any sort, therefore I have no boots TT_TT
"Talking"
'Thinking'
A/N: …Damn I suck, sorry. Didn't mean to leave it this long, my bad. Though, I'm doing better on this fic than my other one, so that's gotta be worth something…*grins sheepishly* Hope you enjoy! Writing this was pretty fun, though I gotta say (if it's not already readily apparent), I'm not the best at fight scenes of any kind, so sorry if it's…dissatisfactory *winces*.
*****Line Break*****
The fourth time Dean met Cas, it was pretty…explosive. Dean was fanning himself with a notebook as he walked from where he'd just left Ash, or as he preferred they call him "Professor Badass", 's classroom. The mullet-sporting redneck didn't look old or serious enough to be teaching anything, but he was actually a surprisingly good instructor when he actually showed up to teach.
It was one of the hottest days of the summer thus far, somewhere around 105 degrees, and everyone was dressed accordingly; t-shirts, shorts, and tank tops were the most popular wears of the day for anyone not hidden away in an air conditioned building.
Dean had glanced up from where he'd been staring at his phone, idly contemplating sending his brother a bunch of spam texts to block up his mobile, to see Cas wandering along the hallway in his direction, a besotted Bela Talbot hanging on his arm chattering while he looked confused but flattered.
Dean stopped dead where he was walking, his mouth hanging slightly open in surprise, his brain not quite computing the information his eyes were sending it. As he sluggishly processed, the jealous beast in his chest began to stir from its monotonous tread, rattling its chains as it tried to work its way to his conscious mind and giving off a roar of frustration that some unoccupied piece of his brain noticed, quietly shushing and quickly shooing it back in line toward its usual residence in the darkest corner of his thoughts.
While he was still handling the revelation that Cas had gotten with the Bela Talbot, one of the most desirable and hard to land fishes in this part of the Californian sea, the world kept right on spinning without him, and Bela and Cas began to walk past him. Though the rest of his brain was otherwise occupied, his eyes still followed their movement, and noticed Bela's cold and calculating eyes, and the wink she sent him as they swept past.
The motion jumpstarted at least a tiny piece of his brain, reminding him of just why Bela was so hard to get; she was taken. By Crowley. Crowley who Cas had had a fight with. Crowley. This piece of information bounced around in his mind for a moment, bumping into and derailing other trains of thought, until some piece of him (possibly prodded by his exasperated subconscious) caused his hand to robotically reach out and grab Cas's arm before the duo could completely pass. Cas looked to him in surprise, having seemingly not noticed him before now, which gave the now placidly shuffling jealous beast a pause before it was forced back in line with his other Cas-related emotions.
He barely heard the usual "Hello Dean." that came from a confused Cas, his focus mostly on the now annoyed Bela as he quickly blurted, "Hey, sorry to steal your boy-toy Bela, but I need to talk to him for a moment," and tugged on Cas's arm, pulling him around a nearby corner and down to the deserted hall by Professor Metatron's classroom. (He was one of the most hated teachers of the institution, though he seemed to think he was a favorite just because he had written many of the institution's textbooks, and no one wanted to be anywhere near him any more than they had to be.) Once there, he let go of the arm he'd used as a lead, quickly spinning to face a confused but unruffled Cas.
"Yes, Dean?" Cas asked, wearing his usual half smile as he looked up to serenely meet Dean's eyes. Dean on the other hand, was a little less calm, but had no idea how to say what he needed to say, at least without offending or otherwise hurting his friend, and stared blankly back at him. "What is it, Dean?" Cas asked after about a minute of stifled silence, now seeming the slightest bit impatient as he glanced back toward where Bela was waiting. Dean lost his cool a bit at the unconscious gesture.
"Don't 'what' me, man! What the hell was that?!" Cas looked confused, and, though Dean couldn't really blame him since he wasn't being very clear here, he really wished the blue-eyed freshman would just understand without having to be told, which made him irrationally angrier.
"Dean, what are you-" Dean cut him off with a harsh gesture of his arm, "What the hell are you doing with Bela Talbot of all people?!"
Cas looked completely lost. "Dean, I-"
"I mean, what the fuck?! Were you even thinking?"
"Dean, what are you talking about?" Cas's voice was still mostly calm, though a bit agitated. Honestly, he was doing well for someone who was getting yelled at by a friend for no readily apparent reason.
"She's a manipulative bitch!" Dean nearly yelled, waving his arms haphazardly and accidentally almost hitting Cas, who luckily ducked.
"Dean," Cas began, sounding irritated, but Dean interrupted him yet again, "She's Crowley's slut, likely the one he cheated on your little friend Meg with!"
Cas tried to speak again, "Don't bring Meg into th-" but was yet again interrupted by Dean.
"He probably set her on you, wants her to break your heart and embarrass you with a break up or something!" Having said what he needed to say, albeit with less tact than he'd originally intended, Dean fell silent, running a hand harshly through his hair as he took a deep breath.
Cas was finally able to speak, and he did so with vigor, sounding offended, "Why does an attractive woman have to be forced on me? Just because I'm a freshman, or maybe just because I'm me, you think I can't get a date?" Cas held up a hand as Dean started to answer. "Don't answer that. I think I can handle having a relationship on my own, Dean. And Bela's not manipulative, or a bitch. She's one of the nicest people I've met in this place."
"Oh really?" Dean replied sarcastically, "When did she come to you?"
Cas frowned at Dean's insolence. "A couple of days after the fight with Crowley, but-" Dean raised an incredulous and condescending eyebrow at him, and Cas's face turned stoic, though his eyes flashed angrily. "She said that she saw me in the fight and she admired how I protected my friend even against unfair odds." He spat coldly.
Dean rolled his eyes, exasperated. "And now, she's got you eating out of the palm of her hand. She's nothing but a two-timing, lowlife whor-" Dean's budding rant was interrupted when he was slammed into a wall. His breathing stuttered and his cheeks gained the barest tint of red as he noticed Cas's face was inches from his own, blue eyes damn-near sparking with anger as he ground his teeth almost audibly. Dean mentally counted to ten, trying to send his body the message that this was not kinky public wall sex, he was in a fight, could it please react properly and stop being an annoying little shit?
"I'm tired of this conversation, Dean." Cas said slowly, enunciating each word carefully, his tone nearly calm though his eyes betrayed his voice; apparently he'd lost his remaining bit of patience.
Dean's already worn temper began to fray even more, luckily (depending on how you look at it) distracting his budding problem and allowing him to put the proper focus into his current situation. "Cas. Let go of me." Dean replied, his words said nearly as carefully as Cas's, though with much more anger as he glared at the slightly shorter freshman who was holding him against the wall with surprising strength.
Cas cocked his head to the side and nearly growled "And if I don't?" Dean sent him a black look in response, opting to remain silent for the moment. Cas leaned closer, his voice a low rumble as he murmured, "You should show me some respect." Dean's glare darkened and he tensed his muscles, pushing himself off the wall, and shoving Cas away from him. Dean's heated glower and Cas's icy glare met with a surprising amount of force for two men who'd been amiable friends only minutes ago.
"Cas, not for nothing," Dean bit out with an angry smirk, "But the last time someone looked at me like that, I got laid." Cas didn't verbally respond, though his glare intensified, and air became tight with tension. Dean wasn't completely sure which of them snapped and made the first move, though he was pretty sure it was him, but suddenly they were fighting.
Dean's father, as an ex-marine, had been teaching Dean and his brother nearly from the cradle how to fight, so Dean considered himself to be on a level above your average guy. Cas, some part of Dean's brain not occupied with elbowing Cas in the ribs thought, was on the same level as him, though he had a different fighting style. While Dean had muscle to spare and could usually just push his way through any attacks like a tank, Cas was more lithe than he was and used his enemy's momentum against him. This was observed when Dean threw a punch at his unprotected side and Cas turned with it, gripping Dean's fist and upper arm, and spinning the taller man around past him where Dean barely dodged a kick aimed at his thigh.
They fought angrily, neither pulling their punches and neither willing to give up victory to the other, until suddenly Cas landed an accidental slap on Dean's exposed shoulder when trying to backhand him across the jaw. The loud and somewhat startling sound shocked them both, pulling them both out of their shared, fight-engaged mentality. They disengaged and stared at each other, both still furious but neither truly wanting to re-engage in combat.
Before either could come to a decision one way or another, Professor Metatron popped his head out of his classroom, glancing from side to side and, seeing the two of them standing there breathing heavily and adorned with obviously visible bruises, split lips, and scrapes from where one had pushed the other against the walls, asked "Is everything okay here gentlemen?" They both replied with a vehemently spat "Fine.", still glaring at each other, and turned, and heading out of the hallway, Dean first with Cas following a few paces behind.
Cas stalked past Dean, not looking back as he headed toward a concerned looking Bela. He offered her his arm and as they walked back the way they came, very pointedly away from Dean, Dean saw Bela turn around and give him another wink with a smirk. Dean scowled at her viciously, stalking off in the opposite direction, not sure where he wanted to go but certain that he wanted to avoid possibly running into Cas any time soon. If Cas didn't want his help, fine! Cas could just fuck off for all he cared! He ignored the twinge of worry he felt, his subconscious humming soothingly at the budding emotion as it was ushered into line with the others.
The adrenaline from their fight was fading, and Dean could now feel the pain that it had covered. His shoulder was a bit sore, and his abdomen felt bruised from when Cas had kneed him. He reached up to gingerly wipe blood from the side of his mouth and under his nose, ignoring the stab of pain that shot up his leg every time he took a step.
He found himself back by his room, but ignored his door and continued onward; he was way too pissed off to be cooped up in his dorm right now. He wandered aimlessly for a bit before settling down in the shade of a tree, wincing as he jostled his shoulder. Now that the adrenaline was gone, the emotions of the fight had left with it. Dean felt drained, and maybe a little bit regretful that he'd lost his cool.
He leaned against the bark of the tree, tilting his head upward and staring blankly up into its leaves. As much as he was pissed at the stupid little freshman, he really hoped that Bela wouldn't hurt Cas too badly, though he had a bad feeling that his wishes wouldn't get a say. Dean stayed outside, leaning wearily against the tree, until dusk when he finally heaved himself up and limped back to his dorm.
The next morning, he was annoyed to find that he had an almost perfectly shaped hand-print bruise on his right shoulder.
A/N: Oh no, the bunnies had a fight! Poor bunnies…don't worry, they'll get over it XD. It's so fun to find places to put in random canon lines, though I haven't found anywhere to put 'Pudding' yet :3 . This chapter was a bit shorter than I wanted, but the next chapter'll definitely be at least a bit longer, and hopefully it'll breach the 3k barrier XD. In any case, please review if you've got a moment :D
