Chapter Text
Dean frickin' hates iPods. Seriously.
It's not like he could tell Sammy, the kid was ecstatic when he'd finally saved up enough money for it- and God save him, that must have taken years- but how the hell was Dean supposed to get all his cassette tapes onto the thing? Sure, he wasn't exactly the go-to-guy for technology, but he was pretty sure that was impossible, and there wasn't a damn chance he was going to waste his money downloading all his songs again. Thankfully, Sam's iTunes had a few of the great hits on- something Dean felt particularly proud of- so it wasn't completely empty and he could plug it in his ears every now and then to keep his little brother happy.
And then there was school where, and he really hated to admit this, the damn black music device thing was his saviour, because anything that could drown the sound of his failing grades was worth the sacrifice. Still, Black Sabbath doesn't sound as good coming out of plastic, crappy headphones.
Dean was slouched back in his chair, elbows resting lazily on his desk as he doodled random shit on his notebook, unaware of the pretty blond entering the classroom until she punched him playfully on the arm and yanked the wire from his ears.
"Morning." She grinned, perching on the edge of her desk, adjacent to Dean's, before she pulled his iPod from his pocket. "Mrs Elliot was outside just now," She said, unlocking the screen and raising an eyebrow at Dean's song choice, "looks like she was talking to a new kid. Well, I've never seen him before, he was wearing a trench coat."
"Who wears trench coats anymore?" Dean snorted, ripping out the page he was doodling on and quickly stuffing it in his jacket pocket.
"Who listens to Black Sabbath anymore?" Jo replied quickly, hopping off the desk and sitting in her seat as the classroom door opened.
"People who appreciate fine music." Dean grinned, but Jo's sarcastic reply was interrupted by a stern cough from the teacher's desk. Mrs Elliot was the top reason Dean no longer completely despised his iPod, because that woman could talk for hours about one thing that wasn't of interest to anyone. However, even if she found it appropriate to go off topic and start ranting about her husband, if you even turned your head to look at your friend you'd get her screeching in your ear like some sort of raging bird. Today, she shuffled in with her brown skirt and brown shirt, followed by a boy of average height, average weight and probably average everything else. Dean didn't really care, the kid could be the president's son and he'd still be just a typical high school teenager with crap taste in everything.
"Class." She announced, settling herself down at the front of the room and observing everyone through her tiny glasses. It was her unemotional, uncaring and unconventional way of welcoming everyone. Dean imagined that she was the type of woman who only became a teacher because she believed she was destined for a superior role, and there was no way she could get into politics with a charisma like that. "Today we have a new student, so would you please pay attention whilst he introduces himself."
The older Winchester didn't bother looking up, but he did glance sideways at Jo- who was staring up at the front of the classroom like a frickin' angel or something was standing there, and Jo wasn't one to idolise anyone. Whatever, what did he care.
"Erm. Hello." Said a low, gruff and yet undeniably innocent voice, and Dean could hear a few snickers echo around the room. For some unknown reason, he really wanted to punch those people- they were probably the same people who laughed when he entered the room last semester- but he resisted and just clenched his pen in his fist instead. "The name my father bestowed upon me is Castiel." He continued awkwardly, and Dean raised a confused brow because who the hell spoke like that these days? He leant sideways discretely, just far enough for Jo to hear him.
"What kind of name is Castiel? He a religious nut, you think?"
"Says the boy with the hundred or so religious heirlooms that are supposed to get rid of demons or whatever." Jo snapped back, more pissed off about his comment than Dean had anticipated.
"Don't get your panties in a twist." Dean murmured, sitting up straighter and noticing that Jo wasn't the only one who needed a lie down. Every girl in the room was on full alert, only turning away from the trench coat wearing boy to give each other that look: the look that all girls know means 'if you ever get to see him naked, you have to show me a picture or at least produce an anatomically correct sketch.' So yeah, maybe this perked Dean's interest a bit more, because perhaps he had some competition.
Castiel was biting his lip nervously when Dean turned his green eyes towards him. He was wearing a shirt and tie, with nicely fitting trousers and what looked like a blazer underneath. A suit. The guy was wearing a goddamn suit. What was he, forty? Fortunately, the majority of the suit was drenched in a trench coat that looked slightly too big for him and made him look like some sort of detective, crime-fighter wannabe. Dean's mind raced back to when Sammy had said the same thing about his leather jacket, but leather jackets are cool- trench coats aren't. Fact.
Thus it was deduced, it wasn't his fashion sense that had caused the raised room temperature. So Dean moved his gaze further upwards, noticing the light stubble littering his strong jawbone and highlighting Castiel's full, pink and chapped lips. Okay, they looked... nice, Dean thought, and really didn't want to elaborate anymore because that would be weird. Yeah, weird.
Castiel's hair was messy and untamed, a few strands falling across his face and the rest going wherever they pleased, perfecting the 'I just had sex' look. Great. A few strands rested delicately on thick eyelashes, that framed round, wide eyes.
Jackpot.
The kid's eyes were some sort of colour that Dean didn't think could be mixed up naturally. They were an almost translucent blue- yet still so bright, cyan bright, and seemed to suck away the colour from everywhere else so that the intensity of his gaze was the only thing Dean could focus on. It didn't become apparent that Dean was in the middle of a some high level staring contest until Jo whispered a sharp "Dean" and managed to snap him out of the weird trance he was in.
"What?" Dean returned in the same tone, glancing at Jo and trying to ignore all the eyes turned on him. Jo just shook her head in an almost disappointed manner, pursing her lips before sighing.
"Stop being a jerk." She whispered. "Stop trying to intimidate or whatever you were doing, give him a chance." Dean stuttered slightly because that is not what was happening. In a second of fear, Dean looked at Castiel, who had his head tilted slightly and was studying Dean with those damn puppy-dog eyes and a furrowed brow. Before Dean could flip him off or pointedly direct him away, Mrs Elliot showed Castiel to a desk one row in front and to the left of Dean, and he obeyed silently, ignoring everyone watching him. Dean gave a sigh of relief, picking up his pen and iPod- happy to return to a day of ignoring the world.
---
Dean hummed happily as his teeth broke the surface of the burger and the greasy meat slipped into his mouth, the cheese was melted perfectly and the roll just the right amount of crispy. It was fucking awesome. Sam sat opposite with his friend Gabriel beside him, both watching the display with similar looks of confusion and disgust. Jo and Lisa just ignored the boys, glaring at the lunch queue where Meg Masters was leaning far too close to Castiel. The boy remained oblivious to her sultry eyes, and appeared more worried about the lunch menu than the dark haired girl that was clearly mentally undressing him.
"Should we do anything?" Lisa asked Jo, her eyes following Meg's movements from her face to her toes.
"We should invite him over here."
"No way am I getting in the way of Meg." Jo considered this, and nodded. She turned to Dean with fixed smile on her face and fluttering her eyelashes shamelessly,
"Dean." She purred, placing her hand on his shoulder and edging closer. "You should go ask Castiel if he wants to sit with us and not, you know, her." Jo nodded towards the queue and Dean shrugged her off.
"Meg's not that bad." Dean said, angry at the discussion pulling him away from the heavenly burger. "Not nowadays anyway."
"She's still a bitch." Lisa argued, and Dean glanced at her for only a second, feeling unable to respond. Him and Lisa- that's a whole box of awkward he didn't want to open.
"Look, he doesn't seem fazed by it, so let's just lay off trench coat boy, okay?" And Dean was telling the truth, Castiel looked totally at ease- well as at ease Dean figured he could look- with Meg flaunting everything she could. He looked over at Meg's normal table- Ruby, Alastair, Lilly, Crowley. Sure, Meg was bearable, but the others made his skin crawl and his heart beat that little faster because, dear lord, they were some evil sons of bitches. Maybe if Meg began dragging Castiel over there, he could find it in his heart to interfere.
"Trench coat boy?" Gabriel piped up, momentarily distracted from flinging peas from his fork at the table of girls next to them. "You mean my brother?"
"Your brother?" Jo squeaked. "Since when?"
"Well since we were both born from the same parents." Gabriel smirked, looking over to find Castiel in the room. "He's been home schooled since forever, finally got Papa to let him taste reality."
"How comes you weren't home-schooled, then?" Lisa asked, and the whole table's attention was on Gabriel. "If he's older than you."
"Let's just say I'm a bit more rebellious than Cas over there," he smiled, "so Daddy let me play. Castiel was always more interested in being the obedient one, so he never even asked to come here, not until about a month ago, anyway."
"What changed?" Dean inquired, and he wondered if this Castiel guy had ever had any fun. Gabriel shrugged, already bored of the conversation and looking for new victims for his DIY catapult.
"Hormones, probably." Was his short reply, and the whole table was left to consider that statement individually. Dean let his focus wonder back to Castiel, who had picked a bottle of water and an apple from the snack bar and stiffly paid for it, his movements robotic and unsure. When he turned around, Meg was grinning and nudging him towards the smiling faces of Ruby and Lilly, but Gabriel noticed and quickly shot a large handful of mashed potato into her back. Meg shrieked, turning demonic like eyes on the whole canteen as she tried to find the culprit with the catapult, but Gabriel had already signalled Castiel to join them and hidden swiftly under the table.
"Smooth." Sam commented, helping Gabriel back onto his seat and budging up so Castiel could squeeze in beside him. Castiel looked positively horrified by such close human contact.
"That is my middle name." Replied Gabriel happily, and Castiel frowned deeply.
"No it isn't." He said bluntly, hands in his lap and staring confused at his brother. Dean had to withhold a snort of laughter, but his lips still turned up in a small smile, unsure whether this seriousness was intentional or some sort of act. The rest of the table just looked at Castiel, except for Gabriel who was clearly used to his brother's attitude. Unaware of the awkwardness of the silence, Castiel picked up his apple and began eating quite contently.
"Dude." Dean finally said, glaring at the apple like it was poison. "Is that all you're going to eat?" Castiel seemed surprised by the sudden interaction, but he looked up at Dean and gave a small nod.
"Yes." He said, not removing his eyes from Dean's. They were falling into that weird staring thing again and Dean had to look away before the rest of the table noticed. His appetite had depleted, leaving a plate of unfinished fries, so Dean pushed it towards Castiel and sighed.
"Here, if you want."
Dean wasn't really sure why he did that- the guy was perfectly happy with just his apple and water, and had made no movement to suggest he wanted any more, especially not from the older Winchester's plate, but when Castiel's eyes widened slightly and he picked one up and placed it between those lips of his, Dean knew he'd done the right thing. Somehow. The rest of the table were looking at Dean like he was about to die on the spot, Jo even leaned closer to check his temperature wasn't out of whack because Dean does not share food, and yet here he was handing a plate of it to someone he'd only just met- someone who didn't ask for it.
"Thank you." Castiel said, munching happily on the fries, his face conveying what could possibly be happiness, or maybe it was a trick of the light.
"No problem." Dean replied, removing his iPod from his pocket and using his music to hide away from his confused friends.
Right at this moment, Dean frickin' loves iPods. Seriously.