Author's Note: Sorry that I haven't been updating quickly this time, Guys! It's just that my schooling has recently started and it's been kinda hectic lately (my reading addiction to the Mortal Instruments series didn't help either) so I haven't had time to write. But hopefully you'll think this was worth the wait!

When Dean finally arrived back home after dropping Castiel off, he instantly headed toward the kitchen to get something to eat so he could get the boy off of his mind (if that's even possible anymore, that is). Luckily, Mary and Sam were still eating and the food was still somewhat warm. He sat down on one of the table's wooden chairs and started loading up his plate, ignoring the fact that the other two Winchester's eyes were now on him.

"What?" Dean finally demanded after ten minutes of pretending they weren't directly staring at him. They shrugged as their gazes snapped back down at their almost empty plates, causing Dean's suspicion to arise. The two of them have been acting strangely ever since Dean had first mentioned Cas and he wasn't sure why; they've never acted like this when Dean's other friends were over…which is exactly what him and Castiel are: friends. Yes, one perfectly gay guy and one completely and totally straight man that have a mutual relationship that is strictly platonic. Well, if you don't count the two times they were close to almost kissing, of course…

No way, I was definitely not close to kissing the guy, Dean forced himself to believe, I was just…making sure Cas was breathing and all. You know, because oxygen is important and all men move just an inch away from another man's face to make sure they can feel their breath. It's basically in the guy code…well, MY version, anyway. Yea, maybe the GAY version, another cruel (yet totally sensible) voice in his head scoffed. Shut up, you don't know what you're talking about, Dean's inner voice growled stubbornly to the other, I'm just a lot straighter than other heterosexual dudes so my code is allowed to be a little gayer than normal.

As the mental battle inside Dean's mind waged on, Sam had already finished his plate and excused himself from the table to go take a shower before going to bed, leaving Dean and his mother all alone in uncomfortable silence.

"So…" Mary began carefully, poking idly at her food with her fork, "Castiel seems nice."

Dean scoffed as he stuffed a piece of pork chop in his mouth, "Just nice? Hell, he makes the freaking Pope look like Donald Trump but with better fashion choices."

Mary smiled at her son's reaction and looked over at him, "You like him a lot, don't you?"

Dean's stomach rolled as he shrugged casually, praying that she wasn't going where he thinks she is, "Um…yea, in an extremely platonic, non-romantic, totally-just-friends sort of way."

"Of course," Mary assured him, causing Dean to finally relax…that is, until she added softly, "But it would be perfectly okay if it wasn't in that way, too."

Dean stiffened for a moment before seeing that his mother was watching him closely so he quickly forced a laugh, "Come on, Mom, get serious. I know Cas looks pretty feminine in that freaking trench coat of his, but he's a guy, and I don't know if you've noticed but I have a specific preference for boobs."

Mary sighed, "Yes, but I just want you to know that it wouldn't matter to me if you didn't just like 'boobs.'"

"You know what? I'm not hungry anymore," Dean blurted out suddenly, abruptly standing up and moving quickly towards the door, "I'm just gonna go to my room and wait for Samantha to get done shaving her legs. Night, Mom."

"Sweetie, I didn't mean to make you upset." Mary told him gently, causing Dean to stopped dead in his tracks and spin back around to face her.

"Mom, why the hell would I be upset? You know I have nothing against gay people." He lightened his tone suddenly as his eyes found the floor, "A-All I'm saying is that I'm not one. Now can we just drop it please?"

Mary let out a tired sigh and hesitantly nodded, "Okay, Dean, forget I said anything. Just go sit down and finish your dinner."

Dean opened his mouth to protest but by the way his mother gazed stubbornly at him with her hands on her hips, he knew he really didn't have any say in the matter. So finally he just closed his mouth and flopped back down on his seat, shoveling the remaining food in his mouth as quickly as he could so finally get out of there and try to forget his mom even attempted to bring up that crazy talk.

"But Castiel is very nice," What part of 'drop it' don't you understand? "He's much better than your other friends like that Alastair boy."

"Yea, Cas is freaking Miss America," Dean sarcastically and rolled his eyes before he asked more seriously, "Why are you so focused on him anyway?"

Mary shrugged, "I don't know. He just seems…different from most the people you usually hang out with." She paused, "And it also doesn't hurt that he's a little easy on the eyes either."

"Gross, Mom," Dean complained as he crinkled his nose in disgust, "You're starting to sound like a cougar or something."

Mary laughed and shrugged, "All I'm saying is that if I didn't have your father and I was twenty years younger, I would be all over him like honey on a biscuit."

"It wouldn't matter anyway," Dean said before he could stop himself, "He wears green on Thursdays."

Mary's eyebrows shot up, "Excuse me?"

"Nothing." Dean told her quickly, smiling down at his plate because of his stupid inside joke.

Mary still had a furrowed brow as she opened her mouth to ask again but before she could even utter out her first word, Dean had already put up his place and kissed her goodnight before strutting out of the kitchen and heading back to the safety of his bedroom.

That night, Dean had trouble sleeping and knew a certain pair of blue eyes were to blame. He played back everything Castiel had ever said and somehow it all became more and more curious and confusing every time. He's an enigma, you know. Everyone in this whole damn town would kill to be as spoiled and famous as the Milton children were, so why does Cas treat it like it's some terrible burden? Sure, it wasn't the most loving household since the parents were always absence since they're away on business most of the time (Dean had been told this by Anna and he remembered that he had did a mental happy dance upon knowing the girl had Daddy Issues) but hey, sometimes money can buy happiness. Dean can sure as hell guarantee that his family's lives would be a hell of a lot better if they had a few extra bucks in their pockets to splurge on something stupid every once in awhile.

And what the hell was this "progress" bullshit Gabriel was talking about? It could be anything really considering it's the fucking Miltons we're talking about, Dean scoffed reasonably in his mind, that family is full with psychos. Seriously, Cas is the only sane person in the whole bunch and he's freaking adopted for crying out loud!

But if Dean was honest with himself, he would admit that it just wasn't what Castiel said that kept him conscious as his body so desperately begged him to succumb to the persistent and annoying need of sleep…it was his voice; Castiel, a scrawny sixteen year old boy that wouldn't get a dirty joke even if it hit him flat in the face, had the raspy voice of a thirty year old phone sex operator. Sometimes Dean can't help but wonder what that voice would sound like early in the morning or when he was pissed and needed to vent about some asshole he met somewhere or just when he—

Stop it, Dean, you're starting to sound like some lovesick fool. And that is what you totally aren't; you're just excited about having a new friend. That's all…as his denial finally lulled him to sleep, Dean tried to keep the mysterious boy wrapped inside an enigma wrapped inside a trench coat out of his thoughts. But even though he would never ever admit it aloud, Dean didn't try as hard as he could have to keep Cas out of his dreams that night.

It felt like as soon as he finally closed his eyes and let his quiet bliss of slumber overcome him, his alarm clock chose to blare right into his ear, signaling that it was already 4:30am. Dean groaned and buried his head into his pillow, "It isn't healthy to be up this early." He was tempted to just ignore it and go back to sleep in his warm and comforting bed, but then he remembered that is wasn't Ms. Eve that he was blowing off—it was Ms. Tapping, whom would probably go on a rampage and never let him see Castiel ever again even if he was just seconds late. Yea, now THAT got him up.

He had already told his mom about her having to drive Sam to school today last night so all Dean had to do was change into his old AC/DC shirt and a pair of new blue jeans his mom bought him a few weeks ago and snack on some leftovers from yesterday's dinner in the fridge before getting into his car and heading to school. He made sure to have the band Kansas blasting through his car stereo and allowed to get distracted from the fact that he's going to have to suffer from life threatening boredom of doing absolutely nothing for the next three hours and then having to go through another whole seven and a half hours of doing nothing but schoolwork. Yea, sounds like hell, doesn't it? Quit your whining, it could've been a lot worse, a voice that sounded strangely like his father ordered inside Dean's mind. Dean reluctantly supposed that he was right since he could've been going through the exact same hell after school as well if it wasn't for Cas—

Dammit, Dean, can you go just five fucking minutes without thinking about that damn kid? No…no, he can't because for a second there, Dean thought he thought he saw a familiar looking tan trench coat on the sidewalk as he passed by.

"Shit, I'm trippin' out." Dean grumbled to himself as he casted a quick glance at his rearview mirror to confirm his suspicions that he's gone completely insane…but turns out, he's not as crazy (or maybe obsessed is the right word) as he thought since he really did see Castiel, who was wearing another fucking suit and same damn coat even though it was seventy degrees outside, packing a dozen textbooks in his arms with no one to help keep them from always slipping from his grasp and falling to the ground. Before he could even give it a second thought, Dean threw his car in reverse. He drove back cautiously until he finally reached Cas and rolled down his window just to prove that he wasn't some creepy pervert who stops kids in the middle of nowhere to help him find his dog in the trunk of his car, "Need a lift, Man?"

Castiel's eyes widened once he saw it was Dean and stared unblinkingly at him for a few long painful moments until he finally uttered, "I-I'm sorry…what?" As soon as those words flew out of his mouth, Cas' face flushed in embarrassment and Dean could practically see the guy mentally kicking himself.

Dean couldn't help but smirk lazily at him, silently relieved that he wasn't the only one who gets embarrassed from time to time, "I was just wondering if you wanted to lug that whole library in your arms another ten miles or just get your ass in the relaxing air-conditioned car?"

"U-Um…sure." The already flustered boy stuttered out as he slowly stumbled into the passenger seat. It was pretty obvious that he wasn't expecting to see Dean this early and was failing epically to mask his utter shock.

Dean grinned widely as he watched Castiel try fruitlessly to get the seatbelt to operate correctly as it kept getting stuck every time he tried to fasten it. He already knew that the passenger's seatbelt was broken and had planned on fixing it earlier in June but after the whole freaking coma incident, he had completely forgotten all about it.

But after watching in entertainment as Cas wrestle the poor thing for almost five whole minutes, Dean just couldn't sit there and be that cruel as he finally gave in and decided to help the poor guy out.

"You keep doing it too fast, dude; you gotta do it slow and easy." Dean informed him smoothly as he reached over and slowly slid the seatbelt over Cas and buckled him in, his hand accidentally running along Castiel's chest (or at least, he tells himself that it was accidental) as he carefully slid it into place. He knew he really shouldn't have, but Dean couldn't resist to tilt his face upward so that it was just inches away from Castiel's and smirked, "You got it?"

Castiel's Adam's apple bobbed as he quickly nodded, his eyes quickly darting to look out of the car window as his body went completely rigid. Payback's a bitch, you bastard, Dean wanted to sneer as he recalled his own bodily reaction when Cas announced his favorite color by far but luckily he managed to bite his tongue as he moved back into his own seat and began to drive again.

"So what the hell are you doing walking to school?" Dean asked coolly, shooting him a sideways glance before settling his eyes back on the road, "Is your family still on strike over me or something?"

"Actually, I have to fight them every morning just to have the privilege of walking on my own," Cas told him, tearing his eyes off of the window to stare hard down at his hands as he admitted, "It's honestly the only time I have to myself without my family constantly breathing down my neck."

"Well, sorry about crashing in on your alone time then." Dean apologized, causing Cas to glance over at him and smile.

"Trust me, Dean, I would much rather spend it in the company of you."

His words stirred something deep down in Dean's chest but he ignored it as he started to fan himself and said jokingly, "Oh Cassie, you're making me blush."

Cas stiffened at the familiar nickname and stayed silently for a moment before he said finally, "Um…yes, I do sincerely apologize for my brother's behavior. He acted very immaturely and believe me when I say that he will say sorry to you personally before the day is over."

Dean arched an eyebrow, "Really? How're you gettin' him to do that?"

Cas started to grin uncontrollably, "I um…may have threatened to tell his girlfriend, Kali, about how he used to have a long-term crush on Willy Wonka."

Dean swerved the car and almost killed both of them because he was doubled over laughing so hard.

"Whew," Dean heaved out after a few minutes of purely cracking up, "It's been a long time since I've laughed that hard," He sobered up a little suddenly as he let out a long breath, "Hell, it's been more than a long time. Years, actually." And it was true; he hasn't had a lot to laugh about for a long time since his parents always fighting furiously with each other every time they see one another and Dean having to comfort Sammy over and over again as they huddled together on his bed and listened to their parent's screaming through the thin walls. That and the bills piling up that are causing them to go further and further into debt didn't help the problem either. But somehow, every time he sees Castiel he just feels like smiling again. But that's just what a good friend makes you wanna do…right?

"You have a beautiful laugh, Dean." Cas told him softly, causing Dean's grip on the steering wheel to tighten and heart to skip a beat. Just a friend, just a friend, just a friend, completely and totally just a friend.

"Thanks, I guess." Dean finally stuttered out nervously, focusing all of his attention on the road as he willed this painful drive to be over before he says or does something that he might regret later on. There was a minute of awkward silence so Dean cleared his throat and tried to fill the air with the only thing he could think of: music.

"Now THIS is good music, Cas." Dean said as he turned the radio up when he heard 'Carry On My Wayward Son' coming on. Out of habit, Dean started to sing every word with all his heart and soul as the song played on, looking over to Cas every now and then to smile happily at him.

He tried to ignore the fluttering feeling that erupted in his chest as he noticed Castiel watching him intently with an unreadable glint in his dancing eyes.

When they finally made it to the school parking lot, Dean parked the Impala in his usual spot and got out of the car. He then waited patiently as Castiel proceeded to scoop up his whole arm load of books and struggled to successfully exit the vehicle without dropping any. Dean didn't even so much as it give it a second thought as his arms reached out and brought the dozen of textbooks into his own arms, "Here, I got it."

"Y-You don't have to—" Cas began to say but Dean shook his head and silenced him.

"It's fine, Cas. That's just what friends do for each other." Boyfriends sound more like it, Dean heard his little brother's voice mocked inside his head, causing Dean to mentally kick the little bitch out of his mind.

Castiel smiled softly at him as he shut the passenger door and looked back at him, "Thanks." Dean shrugged casually in response and began to walk towards the high school, Castiel almost tripping over himself as he quickly stumbled to catch up with him.

"Hey, if you're smart enough to understand what all these shitty books blabber on about, the least I can do is be your manservant for a few minutes." Dean said as he examined all of the textbooks, wondering if any of the titles were actually apart of the English language, "What the fuck is a Calculus? Is that like a disease you get from being exposed to a calculator for too long?"

Cas laughed—and it was an easy going, whimsical laugh that made Dean smile shyly back at him even though Castiel was laughing at his stupidity.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't be laughing at you," Cas finally chuckled out once he got himself under control, "It's just that I don't hear a lot of jokes directed at my education often. Naomi deems it 'unprofessional and juvenile.'"

"Lucky for her, those are my two middle names," Dean teased with a smile before he sort of sobered up and asked more seriously, "But speaking about you dear ole aunt, who the hell lit the fuse on her tampon?"

Cas sighed, "First of all, it was Gabriel who had thought it would be humorous to set all of her…womanly products on fire and got locked out of the house for a week because of it. But I think you were referring to the figurative term meaning her uptight and strict behavior, so I will revise me previous answer: Naomi and my adoptive father were raised in a heavily religious household with harsh rules and very strict upbringing so they hypothesized that to raise obedient children, they must always go to the extremes of parenting."

"Like how?" Dean asked, his curiosity beginning to get in the way of his goal to be polite and stay out of Castiel's business.

He shrugged, "Um…a healthy diet made to make us fit with only 200 calories of junk food per week, strict bed time seven days a week, getting up at four o'clock every morning with no exceptions, only five hours of television per week—"

"Damn, Cas, they're treating you like you're a bunch of soldiers." Dean blurted out, wondering how the hell anyone could put up with such a tight leash.

Cas sighed, "Yes, Gabriel and Anna don't really follow any of their guidelines and usually just go out just go to their friend's households to do whatever they please. But me…" He trailed off as his gaze fell to the floor, "I've never really had any friends to retreat to. So it's basically the only way I know how to live."

"But I thought you were friends with Peter Pan and his bitchy Tinkerbelle?"

Cas sighed, "You mean Balthazar and Meg?"

"That's what I said."

Castiel rolled his eyes but continued to answer him, "I only met Meg during freshmen year in Home Ec. She was very…infatuated with me at the time." He began to smile softly at the memory, "She seemed rather crushed when I had informed her of my true sexuality. But then I introduced her to Balthazar and everything worked out for the best."

"You see, that's another thing: no offense, but you don't look like the drama club type…"

"That is true. I don't really enjoy being the center of attention. Now my friends, however, that's another story."

"So how the hell did you become friends with a pretentious pretty boy like Sebastian fucking Balthazar?"

Cas ducked his head as his face flushed a slight pink, "Um…it is a rather unusual tale that I don't want to share at the moment. I believe most people would find it too 'creepy' for their liking."

Dean's eyebrows shot up as he held the school doors open so Cas could enter first before him, "Well, now I'm interested."

Castiel looked uncomfortable as he began fidgeting with his tie as he entered the building with Dean following close behind, "I um…I followed him home one evening."

Dean stopped dead in his tracks and cocked his head, "Come again?"

Cas stopped with him and wore a nervous expression on his face before he dropped his gaze to the freshly polished tiled floor, "Um…i-it was a long time ago actually—seventh grade, I think. It was when Balthazar first spoken up about supporting gay rights since they were just like everyone else except that they liked one thing greater than the other. It was also the time that I was questioning my own sexuality and it was honestly the first time I had ever heard someone refer to homosexuality as anything other than a horrid disease that would damned you to hell. He…he peeked my interest."

"So instead of saying hi and starting a normal conversation like any average, completely sane person would, you just decided to stalk him?"

He sighed and did a light shrug, "I wouldn't call it stalking per say. It's just…observing in secret. I do it to people all the time. I mean, I've done it to you plenty—" Cas abruptly stopped mid-sentence and quickly shut his mouth, looking as if he was cringing on the inside at his own words.

"You've done what to me exactly?"

Castiel's face burned as he rubbed the back of his neck and stuttered, "U-Uh…a-anyway, like I was saying, after tracking his every move in the halls for a week and receiving no information that wasn't even remotely important, I then decided to take it to the next level and follow him home after school one day. It went extremely well for the first half of the way, but somehow he eventually found out that someone was following him and it wasn't just his imagination, which was very impressive considering that I'm fairly skilled at keeping my presence unknown when I wish to do so. I had lost him when he rounded an abandoned corner on Main Street and before I could even build up any suspicions of foul play, my back was being slammed to the brick wall as Balthazar pinned me still with one hand and raised his fist to punch me with the other." He paused for a moment before shrugging, "But then he saw that it was only the creepy freak-show from his homeroom that knows more about quantum physics than actually having a normal conversation with an actual human being. He appeared shocked at first—dumbstruck, more like—but eventually, he lowered his threatening hands and asked what the heck I was doing following him like a baby duck for the past five miles. I then reluctantly shared that my people skills were a little 'rusty' and I was merely watching him from afar to gain some understanding of the average social grace. I had thought he was going to beat me up, of course—I mean, that's what everyone else did just when I simply met their gaze—but he didn't."

Dean's brow furrowed a little in surprise, remembering how the British drama freak had once threatened pure bloodshed sophomore year when he saw that Dean had absently chewed on his pen he had lent him (that's actually how their little feud began even), "He didn't?"

Cas smiled and shook his head, "No…he just stared at me for a long time until he finally just broke out into a huge grin. He laughed for awhile, though even to this day I still don't quite grasp what was so humorous, and then he asked where I lived. I told him, he walked me home, and…" He trailed off and stayed silent for a second before he lightly shrugged and finished a bit more quietly, "And he's been glued to my side ever since."

"Ooookay," Dean drawled out as he nodded slightly, "It's not your typical 'How Harry Met Sally' story, but whatever floats your boat, I guess." He paused for a moment before adding, "Now about what you were saying earlier—"

"Mr. Winchester," He heard Ms. Tapping's crisp voice say coldly behind him, "You are exactly two minutes late. Shall I add an extra week to your sentencing?" Shit.

"Ms. Tapping, it was my fault," Cas told her in a miserable tone as he turned around to face her, his blue eyes filled with remorse, "I was just making sure he had written down all of our progress from the previous night." He then leaned in and said lowly, "You'll have to forgive me, of course; I'm just trying to make the best out of this horrid situation I'm in."

Though it kind of hurt Dean's ego for Castiel to say that, Ms. Tapping seemed to react the opposite and just smiled sadly at her nephew with pity in her eyes, "Yes, sometimes you have to deal with those that are not worthy your time." She looked at Dean condescendingly, making his hands ball into a fist, "Mr. Winchester, since Castiel had only made you late just to make up for your incompetence, I'll let it slide this time. Just don't make it into a habit. I'm not known for giving more than a second chance."

Dean forced a cheery smile, "I'm honored you gave my puny excuse of existence another gamble, Ma'am." He tried his absolute hardest to keep the sarcasm from dripping into his voice.

But apparently he didn't succeed since Ms. Tapping glared daggers at him and opened her mouth to spew out a bunch of shit about "respecting your elders" or something, but thankfully Castiel stepped in and directed her attention back on him, "I truly appreciate your leniency on this situation, Naomi. And trust me, no matter how Dean might act, he's grateful for your infinite tolerance, too." Cas sounded so sincere, even Dean almost believed he really meant it. But there was something dark and hateful in Castiel's seemingly innocent blue eyes that proved he felt nothing towards the woman but pure loathsome as he spoke sweetly to her. And honestly, Dean didn't even know what to make of it.

Ms. Tapping, however, didn't detect his hidden cold feelings for her and just smiled, "It's wonderful that at least someone appreciates my hard work, Castiel. And I advise you not call me Naomi around any educational areas; it's highly unprofessional." Dean seriously had to find it within himself to fight the growing urge to roll his eyes. But you know, of course, that would be unprofessional of him.

Cas nodded soberly, "Yes, of course. I'll make a mental note of it for future references."

Now satisfied with proving her position of power over them, Ms. Tapping nodded a goodbye and turned towards her office, but Castiel's quiet voice stopped her, "Um…Ms. Tapping, I have a formal request to submit for your consideration." Damn, those two act like they're apart of some business meeting or something, Dean observed silently, noting that he's never seen family members act so distant towards one another.

Ms. Tapping tilted her head to one side but didn't turn around, "Oh do you now?"

Cas licked his lips and nodded, "Yes, permission to proceed?"

"Permission granted." She answered coolly, turning back around to fully face him.

Cas cleared his throat, "I was wondering if you would allow me to study in the detention hall since it has much better lighting than the library. I would hate to damage my eyesight over a long period of time due to reading in dim light."

Her face turned to stone as she sighed, "Does this have anything to do with Mr. Winchester over here?"

Cas furrowed his brow and cocked his head, appearing confused, "Why on earth would it have anything to do with him? We barely even speak outside of our project," He paused before shrugging and adding, "I wouldn't even say we were friend, really; a mere business relationship is all we have regarding towards each other." Each words chipped at Dean's heart one by one until it finally shattered, but apparently Castiel wasn't done destroying Dean's self-esteem as he continued on, "I'm just concerned about my vision is all. I would hate to waste money paying for glasses when the problem could have easily been avoided."

Ms. Tapping pondered his words and Dean hoped she would refuse since he didn't want to be stuck in the same room as the two-faced jackass nephew of hers. But unfortunately, she finally just sighed and meekly nodded, "Very well. But I want no talking between you two, understood?"

"Oh please," Dean scoffed bitterly, finding his voice as he rolled his eyes, "Like I would willingly talk to a guy like him."

Dean could've sworn he saw out of the corner of his eye Castiel slightly flinch at his words, but he convinced himself that he didn't care. Because he doesn't. Seriously, he means it this time.

Ms. Tapping nodded and strolled out of the hallway and into her office, leaving Dean and Castiel completely by themselves in the deserted surroundings around them. Aw, did somebody get his precious little feelings hurt, a cruel mocking voice inside his head sneered. Dean clenched his teeth and internally punched that voice in the groin.

"…Dean? Dean, are you even listening to me?" Castiel's soft anxious voice finally broke through his mental hissy fit.

Despite every fiber in his being screamed for him to just let it go and forgive him just at the sight of the boy, Dean glared at him and demanded coldly, "What do you want now?"

Cas looked like a kicked puppy that was left out in the freezing rain and instantly Dean felt his heart softening, "Y-You do realize I was only telling my aunt what she wanted to here, don't you?"

"Well, you did a hell of a job," Dean heard himself snap harsher than he had originally intended, "'Cause I sure believed it."

Dean suddenly felt Castiel grab his hand and it was like all the anger instantly drained out of him, "D-Dean, please don't end our friendship because of those lies I told Naomi," He then lowered his voice as if he was afraid of being overheard, even though it was just the two of them within a fifteen feet radius, "She's ruined enough in my life already. Don't let her destroy this, too." Yes, and what is this 'this' between us exactly? 'Cause I sure as hell would like to know.

Dean couldn't form any words with Castiel physically touching him so all he could do was nod ignorantly, causing Cas to sigh in relief and drop his hand (but that still didn't stop the rapid beating in Dean's chest), "Thank you so much, Dean. But please, what can I do to make it up to you?" Well, I have a few ideas—

"It's alright, Dude," Dean forced himself to say, ignoring the dirty part of his mind that filled his thoughts with several ideas of favors Cas could do to him (for him, he means. Shit, he means for him!) in return, "I mean, I was an asshole to you at lunch yesterday and you were an asshole to me today. Consider us even now."

Castiel smiled and nodded before opening the door to the detention hall and held it as Dean walked in first and moved towards the back of the classroom. Thankfully, nobody else was in there except for Mr. Shurley, who was sitting at the teacher's desk with his head down and eyes drooped shut. The teacher didn't even stir when they walked in and slammed the door shut, making it obvious that he wouldn't be waking up any time soon. Dean grinned and dumped all of Castiel's textbooks on one of the desks in the very back before plopping down in the seat beside it. Cas smiled back at him as he slid into the desk with the mountain of books on it.

Dean arched an eyebrow and gazed at the textbooks for awhile before letting out a long whistle, "Damn, Cas, you tryin' to outdo Albert freaking Einstein?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, "I am not nearly as intelligent as Einstein, Dean. He was a genius. I'm just—"

"Cas, you are totally a genius," Dean told him strongly, interrupting Castiel's far too modest protests, "Trust me, I can tell by the way you talk and all those brainy classes you're taking now."

"I'm not as smart as the rest of my siblings," Cas confessed weakly as he ran a worried hand through his black hair, "T-They're all considered legitimate geniuses, Dean. And me? I'm just now taking the AP classes that the rest of my family had already passed in eighth grade! I mean, Anna's taking mostly college courses just in her junior year while I'm only in four. And don't even get me started on how ahead Gabriel is. Seriously, he would've graduated a year early last school year if he hadn't had set Mr. Azazel's car on fire—"

"Castiel, why the hell are you always comparing yourself to someone better when you already do amazing on your own?"

"Because that's all everyone else does, Dean! Have you not seen the hell I'm forced to call home?!" Cas snapped, his pencil almost snapping in half under his intense grip, "Now I don't want to discuss any of my constant failures anymore, alright?" They're not failures, Cas, Dean wanted to assure him but he knew it would just cause Castiel to be more upset with him than he already is.

So instead he just cleared his throat and switched the subject onto something that has been haunting the back of his mind ever since he heard it, "But anyway, what exactly were you saying earlier back there when we were talking about Balthazar?"

Castiel stiffened and averted his gaze, "I don't want to discuss that either."

"Can't have both ways, Cas." Dean told him, smirking at his stroke of genius.

Castiel sighed in defeat and kept his eyes on his shoes as he admitted quietly, "But you'll think I'm creepy though."

"Dude, last week I found out Uncle Bobby gets a weekly pedicure and has a man-crush on Tori Spelling. You seriously can't get any creepier than that."

Cas looked a little hesitant at first but finally, after seeing Dean wasn't going to stop until he tells him, let out a long sigh and reluctantly began, "I um…well, it all started when I was in fourth grade and you were in fifth. You probably don't remember now, but you once saved me from getting pummeled to a pulp by Tom and Alastair—you know, before you joined the basketball team and became their friend. You uh…" He started to smile, his blue eyes having a far off distant look and seemed to be caught up in the memory, "You asked me why I was wearing clothes that made me look like an old man."

"I said that?"

"You were a very blunt child."

Dean felt himself grinning back now as he couldn't believe that he actually doesn't remember any of this, "What happened next?"

Cas sighed, "After you gave Alastair a bloody nose and Tom a shiny new black eye, you helped me get back up on my feet and dusted the sand off of my clothes." He paused for a moment and shyly stared down at his desk as his sheepishly grin grew larger, "Then I, of course, asked why you—a popular and heroic fifth grader—did all that for me—a shy nine year old that would rather sit in my bedroom with my nose buried in a book than be out socializing with my peers. And you know what you said?"

"What?"

Cas looked up and smiled wistfully at him with a strange twinkle in his eye, "You said that I reminded you of your little brother Sammy and that you couldn't just stand there and watch 'my ass getting handed to me by a bunch of overcompensating dick-heads.'"

Dean busted out laughing but thankfully got himself under control before Mr. Shurley awoken (though Dean doubted that a train carrying a huge supply of dynamite crashing into firecracker warehouse could ever wake the man up), "Damn, I was badass back then."

Cas nodded, "Yes, I thought so too, though back then my thought process was regarding you as remarkable and kind instead any vulgar language."

Dean rolled his eyes but couldn't help but ask, "Is that the end?"

Castiel shook his head, "Unfortunately, I haven't even gotten to the upsetting part yet."

Dean cracked a smirk and propped his head up by his elbow, "Oh do tell."

The blue eyed boy nodded and hesitantly continued, "Well…I was curious of you, of course. I-I didn't know a popular person could be so nice; I mean, in my previous experiences, they were always anything but. So later that day, I followed as you picked up your brother and walked home. It was quite…unfamiliar to me that siblings could be so nice to one another when I saw the two of you interacting. It didn't and still doesn't happen often at my house." Castiel's gaze found the ceiling as his fingers started playing with his sleeves and blurted out nervously, "I'm sorry if I made you uncomfortable, Dean. I was young and it was the only thing I could do to pass the time back then." He paused for a tense moment before he asked softly, "Are you upset with me?"

Dean waited for the tingling feeling of uneasiness to settle in the pit of his stomach but it never came. He waited and waited and waited…but the so called 'creepiness' he was supposed to be experiencing never came and sent shivers down his spine.

Now, usually, if he had found out some kid he barely knew stalked him and Sammy, he would be freaking pissed off and the guy would probably never walk right ever again…but it's Cas, a boy who would never hurt a fly and got physically sick every time he thought he had hurt someone's feelings.

Really, Dean tried his hardest to be freaked out like he knew he should be, but he couldn't help but feel anything other than flattered that Cas had taken time out of his day just to follow him home.

Damn, maybe he's the psychopath here.

Dean pretended to think about it for another moment before he ultimately decided to put Castiel out of his misery, "Nah, not really. I mean, who hasn't stalked a person every once in awhile?" He paused before adding, "It was only once, right?"

Cas swallowed hard and suddenly averted his gaze anywhere but Dean, "Did you know that it took two architectures and fifty construction workers to make this wonderfully strong and dependable building? It was made in 1976—"

"Castiel?"

"You won't like the answer, Dean."

"Try me."

He sighed and closed his eyes before saying quickly in all one breath, "I may have followed you once or twice or maybe seven time."

Dean's eyes widened, "Seven times?"

Cas didn't answer him for a moment before he finally blurted out anxiously, "It took a whole fourteen months to have this school finished. It was set at just ten months, but the opening was delayed two times because of—"

"Cas?"

"Okay, maybe eight counting that last time during the middle of sophomore year…"

"EIGHT TIMES?"

"Dean, I told you that you wouldn't like the answer."

He ignored him and continued to stare widely at the boy before he finally found his voice and sputtered out, "What the hell did I do to make to make you so damn fascinated with me then?"

Cas sighed, "That's what Balthazar asked when I told him to drive by your house last year."

"Dammit, Castiel! How do you not see yourself as a stalker?"

Castiel's shoulders slumped and looked as though he was pouting as he muttered, "I didn't mean to appear obsessive. I just wanted to make sure you were still the same righteous man I had met on the playground so many years ago. Honestly, I had thought you had turned into a major…'dick-head' as you described it when you started hanging out with those cruel yet extremely popular bullies that used to shove me into trash cans everyday all throughout my elementary and junior high years."

"And exactly who the hell did that to you?" Dean demanded as a sudden uncontrollable rage came over him, "Tell me the names and I'll make sure they know who the real trash is."

Cas smiled gratefully at him before saying softly, "And that is why you have always peeked my interest, Dean. You're incredibly generous and protective of those who are in need of help. I mean, you could be the righteous man God was talking about."

Dean felt oddly pleased and embarrassed at that statement and rolled his eyes as he replied shyly, "Well, if I'm that then you're a freaking angel in a stupid dirty trench coat."

Cas looked vaguely offended, "It is not a stupid trench coat."

"Dude, do you ever wash that thing?"

"Yes…once every few months."

"My lord, Cas, ever heard of laundry day?"

Castiel shrugged, "I usually don't have time to dedicate an entire twenty-four hours to just washing my most favorite article of clothing. I'm always either studying for tests or tutoring minors for extra credit or practicing trumpet for marching season or writing essays for college scholarships or helping Meg and Balthazar with their lines for auditions—"

"Dude, you're making me exhausted just hearing all that shit."

"My family believes that idle hands are the devil's playthings."

Dean rolled his eyes and muttered a 'figures' before he said louder, "Well, no offense or anything, Cas, but your family is a bunch of self-righteous dicks with wings."

Cas smiled, "Yes, that's one way of putting it."

"Okay, but since we were already on the subject of horrible fashion choices, I gotta ask…what's up with the suits?"

Cas furrowed his brow and self-consciously gazed down at his clothes, "What's wrong with them?"

"Nothing," Dean assured him quickly, not wanting to upset him, "It's just that it's very…" Weird as hell. "…uncommon for a teenager to always look like he's going to a freaking funeral all the times. I mean, you'd have to pay most boys to even attempt to put on one of those monkey suits."

"My father always wore suits," Cas admitted quietly, wearing a sullen look on his face as he started to pick the invisible lint off of his tan overcoat.

Dean snorted, "Yea, but that's because Daddy Milton is a big time fancy senator, not a—"

"Not Mr. Milton, Dean. My real father." Castiel snapped sternly as his eyes hardened, "Trust me, there's a huge difference." Dean was shocked at how instantly defensive and angry he had gotten all of a sudden, making him wonder why Castiel's adoptive family was always a touchy subject for him. Because for Dean, it's the exact opposite; you usually can't get him to shut up about his close relatives—always boating to everyone else when Sam or Jo or Ash did something remarkable and impressive, or how awesome his parents and surrogate uncles and aunts are…

And Castiel's family is the Miltons for crying out loud! Seriously, there isn't a person in this town that would at least consider selling their soul just for a spot in that spoiled and extensively wealthy family.

Dean sighed and finally worked up the nerve to begin slowly, "Cas, I know these sort of questions make you uncomfortable and all, but I have to ask…" He trailed off and thought about just saying forget it and leave the subject alone but eventually he built up the strength to force the rest of the words out, "Why do you despise being a Milton so much? I mean, they have everything they could possibly want while everyone else basically gets shit. How the hell is that so bad?"

"In the public eye, we're just a bunch of spoiled rich kids that have the whole world in the palms of our hands," Cas agreed flatly before he looked back at Dean with now cold and vacant eyes as he uttered softly, "But no one will ever truly know what really goes on behind closed doors."

"Why don't you just try telling me then?" He suggested gently, encouraging him to get the unknown heavy load of burdens off his narrow chest.

Cas smiled bitterly as he curtly shook his head and Dean could practically see all the lonely and painful years of misery he's went through in his now dead blue eyes, "It doesn't matter, Dean It's not like anyone will do anything about it."

"I will." The words flew out of his lips before he could even stop them, though this time he didn't mind his big mouth going on its own agenda in this case.

Cas snorted and rolled his eyes, "Trust me, all it takes is one wave of my family's big bucks and fancy title and everything will just go back to normal as if nothing had ever occurred. It's happen before and it'll certainly happen again." He shut his eyes and let out a shaky sigh, "I stopped trying to fight it years ago, Dean. For your own safety, I suggest you do the same."

Dean licked his lips and finally blurted out the one question that's been on his mind a lot more than he'd like to admit, "Cas, that night before you decided to end it all and swallow a bunch happy pills…how did you get so bruised and scarred up like that?"

Castiel's eyes snapped open and he stared at him with a pleading and almost desperate look, and for a moment Dean thought he was actually going to confess what really happened the night of his attempted suicide, but suddenly he froze in place, looking as though there was a war raging inside him…and apparently the other side had won because in a blink of an eye, the pleading look was gone and replaced with a now stony expression.

"No one there would ever try to hurt me, Dean," Cas told him reluctantly, sounding as though he physically had to force the words out of his mouth, "I am apart of their family; adopted or not. I'm very…fortunate to be raised in such a warm and loving environment surrounded by people that truly care about me."

Dean let a small frustrated breath escape his lips as he said lowly, "Cas—"

"Do you mind if I trace you, Dean?" The other boy asked suddenly, changing the subject as he moved his other heavy textbooks to the floor so his sketchpad was resting flatly on his now barren desk.

"Hey, I don't know if you noticed but we were kinda havin' a moment here," Dean reminded him flatly before his curiosity made him add, "And why the hell would I let anybody copy down this sweet ass when they could get the free showing any time?"

"Because you're nice," Cas replied coolly and remained silent for another second before he added slyly, "And somewhat of an ego-maniac."

Dean's eyes widened as he stared at Castiel in shock at his wild statement until he could finally stutter out, "What the hell? Just a minute ago, you were calling me righteous!"

The boy smirked and tilted his head mockingly at him, "I received your full attention, didn't I?"

"You're more diabolical than you let on, Novak." Dean told him flatly, though the corner of his lips had subconsciously rose to an amused grin.

"Despite knowing otherwise, I suppose I will take that as a compliment." Cas said as he readied his pencil and looked at him, "Now strike a flattering pose. This is going in my art portfolio."

Dean snorted, "You're also an art nerd? Shit, Cas, are you like the king of all dorkery or something?"

"It's flattering that you consider me royalty, Dean," Cas deadpanned before adding a bit more seriously, "But to your question: yes, I enjoy artery. Is that an issue?"

He shrugged, "No, not really. I mean, it's just a little weird that someone as smart as you would think doodling on a piece of paper was 'productive.'"

Cas rolled his eyes, "You sound just like Naomi did when I was forced to show her my schedule for the year."

"Oh you insult me, Castiel!" Dean cried in somewhat mock hurt (he does have to admit it's kind of offensive to be compared to such a cold-hearted witch though), "Now how am I supposed to pose pretty when I'm so worked up?"

Cas scoffed, "I think you can manage. Now stop moving already. The light is absolutely perfect at this time of day."

"Aren't you supposed to be studying though?"

"I don't really study when I'm here," Cas admitted gently, his pencil lightly tracing the form of Dean's jaw, "I've been coming in three hours early ever since freshmen year and I've never studied once in here. Usually, I don't need to."

"What do you do in here then?" Dean asked as he tried to keep as still as possible.

Cas shrugged, "Lots of stuff. You know, things I'm not allowed to do at home. I stare into space and daydream mostly since my family usually keeps me too busy to even think straight. Used to, Mrs. Eve would sometimes join me and we would talk about politics and educational funding. I used to help her with her taxes once a month, too."

"Dude, you can do taxes?"

"I'm fairly good at numbers, Dean," Cas replied nonchalantly as he outlined the other boy's body.

"So you're like a future holy tax accountant?"

Cas chuckled, "Yes, something along those lines."

Dean smiled at him for a few moments before he finally said quietly, "Cas, you do realize we're going to have to talk about it eventually, right? I'm not letting this go…not like everyone else does."

Cas sighed, "Maybe eventually. But right now, we are going stay in comfortable silence for the remaining two and a half hours."

Dean furrowed his brow, "A whole two and a half hours? Damn, being pretty's hard."

"You have my upmost sympathy." Cas said sarcastically, though his eyes were sparkling with humor, "Now stop changing your expression. It's becoming quite frustrating."

"Draw me the world's smallest violin and I'll play it for you." Dean mocked, rolling his eyes.

Cas furrowed his brow and cocked his head, "Dean, even if I did draw a small violin on a piece of paper, it is still a two-dimensional figure and therefore it is impossible for you to play it. Besides, I doubt you even know how to play an orchestral instrument."

"Speaking to you is like talking to a brick wall." Dean noticed Castiel's even more confused expression at his words and quickly added, "You know what? Never mind. Just shut up and paint me like one of your French girls."

"You are neither French nor female so I will not 'paint' you as such. Instead, I will draw you like you usually look. Will that be acceptable?"

"Like a brick wall. That's all I'm saying."

Castiel rolled his eyes but instead of replying, he just resumed his sketching in complete silence. Dean watched in awe as Castiel, whose forehead was creased with concentration and face mirrored with intense focus, traced every little detail into the drawing, making it much more lifelike and beautiful with every line. It was right then that Dean realized that this was the first time he had witnessed Castiel looking so passionate about what he was doing. He was fiercely motivated and somewhat…happy and content with what he was creating. It wasn't the small sly smile on his face that proved it but it was his big blue eyes that were finally alive and practically glimmering even in the shitty florescent lighting. Dean had also noticed that Cas didn't always look like this when doing just anything—actually, come to think of it, the only time he looks like that is when he looks at Dean…but that probably doesn't mean anything.

Right?

Author's Note: Yay, more bonding time between the two! And I must again apologize for not updating this for a whole freaking month and I swear I'll try to be faster next time. But yeah, worth the wait? If you loved it, hated it, had mixed feelings with it, or even felt indifference towards it, I'd love to hear your feedback in the reviews and follows/favorites. Have a wonderful day and thanks for putting up with my shameful tardiness! You guys are too good to me.