#casdeanasstudents

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

FROM DARE, TO LOVE (A Destiel Fanfiction)

CHAPTER FIFTEEN: "'Thank you' introducing me to the concept of 'gifts', Dean."

There's a lady who's sure, All that glitters is gold

And she's buying a stairway to heaven, When she gets there she knows

If the stores are all closed, With a word she can get what she came for...

Castiel hummed to himself, as he fiddled with his 'Angels and Demons' keychain, trying to fit it on the key to his house. It was after he finally succeeded, that he realised what he'd been singing along to. A song, he didn't like a bit. It..just didn't speak to him.

"Stupid playlist..." Castiel muttered to himself, stuffing the keychain with the title of his favourite book by Dan Brown and the keys to Paradise - his dad had sent his key to the dry cleaners via the pockets of his favourite jeans, and till Gabriel bought home a new lock that Tuesday, Castiel and Charles had decided to live in the constant fear of an intruder who'd retrieved the keys from 'Fluff 'n Stuff', so tat they'd learn a lesson- into his pocket, so that Castiel could leave his dad another key, in case he wanted to go out sometime when the brothers weren't home - although that was pretty unlikely.

They have a lot of keys to the same lock, Castiel mused, as he returned the rest of the keys to their place; the drawer beneath Castiel's sock drawer - the three residents of that house weren't the most organised key-keepers; big surprise. Gabriel had kind-of had a phase where he'd been distributing keys of Paradise to his friends, and Kali - or is it Callie? - his long-term ex girlfriend. Charles had given one to his on-and-off girlfriend Sue, and though Castiel hadn't really given his keys to anyone - whom would he give his keys to? - he'd lost an above-average amount. Lots of keys to the same lock, Castiel repeated to himself, liking how thrilling that sounded, as he caught a look in the mirror.

He looked quite the usual, he was pleased to note, in spite of going by most of the things Gabriel had told him. He ran a hand through his hair self-consciously - messing it up, rather than smoothing it out, because the Universe somehow had a bone to pick with him - and as his eyes followed his own nervous twitches, about his peson, his brain wandered.

He'd said yes, to the date. And now it was almost seven, and Castiel was nervously looking at the door every minute; his ears strained for the familiar sound of the Impala parking in his yard. He'd been thinking about his answer, considering the consequences of saying 'no'; and he'd realised, that one way or the other, he would've said 'yes'. Not least, because few could say 'no' to someone who looks - with mesmerising eyes and that bewitching smile - like Dean Winchester, but if he did, Dean would probably keep on pestering till he gave in. Or, Castiel's self-loathing mind cut in, Dean might shrug and walk away, because he'd had enough of Castiel's doubts and uncertainties, and he'd just end up hooking up with some other girl of their class and never speak to Castiel again.

Castiel wasn't entirely sure how he'd feel about that.

He'd come about to enjoy Dean's unusual company. His personality in whole, attracted him, and he'd learnt to take Dean's jokes lightly, and he could be pretty humorous. And engaging to talk to, Castiel remembered, and he even enjoyed talking about completely baseless things with Dean Winchester. And then, he occasionally got this serious look in his face, and the broody-and-sinister guy came into being, or sometimes he'd just stare at Castiel with an unreadable look on his face, and Castiel would be even more intrigued as to what was the truth in that gaze. And, as if all of that wasn't enough, Castiel now yearned to see Dean Winchester laugh. It was beautiful, and his eyes would sparkle, or sometimes they'd be crinkled shut, and his lips would spread out in a giant smile, showcasing all of his teeth or he would almost bend over, clutching his middle, and it'd be incredible to watch him like that. Castiel considered it an accomplishment each time he was the reason behind it. It was a good feeling.

So maybe, Castiel didn't want to completely stop talking to Dean Winchester. As a friend, he promised himself.

A friend he's going on a date with, a part of him remembered.

The date is not a big deal, he stressed.

Of course. Dean Winchester was just Castiel's unbelievably gorgeous 'friend' who had eyes that sparkled when he smiled, and who Castiel was going on a date with; a completely casual date, about which he'd just spent a few hours thinking about. That was about it.

He didn't even get into the 'dare' thing. Possibly because it didn't quite come to his mind.

He was preparing to get into another rant with his own self, about how it was completely normal for a guy to feel that way about another guy, without there being love between them - maybe a passing attraction? Perhaps. But love? Oh, hell, no - but Charles interrupted.

"You look good, son." He remarked, sitting on a sofa opposite Castiel's. "Going somewhere?"

"Kind of." Castiel answered, evasively. He could still feel Charles' eyes on him, so he added, "I'm going to get dinner with a friend. From school. But I'll be back soo-"

"Like, at a friend's place?" Charles interjected.

Castiel thought about it. "No, not really." Dean taking Castiel on a date? Fine, he assumed. But Dean Winchester taking Castiel home was something else altogether. He never even talked about home. It was just one of the topics they didn't breach. "At McDonald's."

"Get me one of those vanilla softies." Castiel's dad asked, a pause later. Castiel raised an eyebrow, apprehensively, and he thought about it. "Okay, no, that'd melt. Just get me nuggets." He seemed to be giving it some more thought. "With mustard sauce. And that fantastic cheesy dip-"

"Dad, I'm not going there to get you food." Castiel cut him off. Then added, in a more composed tone, because it was Charles who now had raised eyebrows. "Alright, dad. Chicken nuggets with mustard sauce and cheese di-"

"What, is this, like, a date?"

"I guess." Castiel pursed his lips, uncertainly.

"You're going on a date..?" Charles repeated.

"Yes." Castiel scowled, impatiently. Was it so unbelievable that he was going on a date? "But I'll be back soon."

"Yeah," Charles muttered dismissively, straightening in his seat. "I know you'll be back soon. But, tell me about this date. Who're you going with?"

Castiel eyed his father, consciously. "A friend, from school."

"Is it Hannah?" Charles tried, excitedly. Castiel shook his head; he didn't even think of Hannah that way, though she was one of the only people to show persistent interest in him. "It's April, isn't it? She was definitely into you the last time I saw the two of you together." He tried, again.

"Dad, I went out with April once in middle-school!" Castiel responded, exasperatedly.

"Okay," Charles raised a hand for peace. "Meg then? Meg Masters, am I righ-"

Castiel had a feeling that the guessing game could go on for awhile. "No." He cut him off. "It's Dean Winchester, alright? He's a guy from my class."

"Oh." Charles pulled back for a minute, as Castiel realised - more, like, it hit him like a ton of bricks - that his dad had no idea that he was interested in guys. Castiel didn't have that much of a sharing relationship with his dad, and such a situation had never arisen whence he would come to know. Castiel bit his lip, and prepared a short speech mentally, on how to confess to his dad that he was gay. But Charles cut him off. "Oh, well, that doesn't matter." He smiled, and Castiel eyed him warily. Wasn't his dad supposed to be, taken aback? How did he look so okay with it? "I never heard of him, from you before, have I? What's he like?"

Castiel swallowed, realising that it was his dad trying to be a 'dad' to him. But Castiel had quite literally come out to his dad that evening - receiving no major reactions in return, he sulked - and he wasn't in the mood to tell his father about the dare - not that he himself gave it much thought nowadays - or too much in detail about Dean. "He's captain of the football team, brother of Sam Winchester - you know, the Freshman Year President, and he owns a car, the 1967 Chevrolet Impala. He calls it 'Baby'." Castiel briefed his dad, blushing without meaning to.

Charles nodded his head, almost approvingly. "He asked you out?"

Castiel nodded, wanting to be swallowed by the Earth, rather than face any more questions. He just wished that Dean would arrive, already.

"First date, then?" Charles asked, again. "How long have you known each other?"

"I guess." Castiel furrowed his eyebrows. Could his dad show a little less interest in Dean? "About fifteen days, I'd say." He added. Two-weeks-anniversary.

"Well, okay," Charles leaned back in his seat. "So, you like him?"

Castiel was sure he turned redder than the t-shirt Gabriel was pestering him to wear on the phone before. "No." He frowned, looking away.

"Well, does he like you?" The doorbell interrupted an awkward silence. Castiel, almost gratefully, strode up to the front door. Charles remained where he sat, and watched the man, who entered, carefully. His eyes ran over the good-looking and well-built man in a jacket, possibly only slightly taller than his son, who surveyed the house with curious green eyes, as he walked in. Charles smiled, as their eyes met.

Castiel almost stared at Dean, as he entered, taking long, confident steps as he sized up Paradise as if he were going to fight furniture in there. Dean wore a leather jacket, over a brick-brown shirt, with grey jeans and hunting boots. An amulet was visible - Castiel had never seen it before - and there was something about Dean's hair that looked like some effort had been put into it. Perhaps, hair gel, Castiel realised, almost pleased. His green eyes were inquisitive, and lingered familiarly on Castiel, for only a second, before they wandered on to a tour of their own. Then his eyes met Charles's, and as his dad smiled magnifiedly, Castiel wanted to get Dean out of there before the talking commenced. "There's really no need to come in," Castiel almost urged Dean. "I'm ready. We can leave."

Dean looked at Castiel directly, his lip twitching into a smirk. "Are you hiding a secret lover in here, honey?" His smolder gave way to a teasing grin. "Or perhaps a stash of pies?"

Castiel smiled back, as he shook his head. "Just my dad."

Dean, at this, let go of Castiel, and hooked his gaze with Charles, a formal smile sprouting on his lips, as he did so. "Hello, Mr. Novak." He greeted, politely. Castiel identified his tone and smile to be the one he put up for teachers who had an affinity for detentions.

"Hi." Charles put down the pillow from his lap, and begun to stand up. "Dean, right?"

"Right." He said, with a small chuckle, as he walked up to Charles, and Charles stood up. Beer mug pyjamas, Castiel noted, embarrassedly, as the two men shook hands; Dean taller than Charles by a significant amount. "Dean Winchester."

"Not much of a guess," Charles smiled back. "Castiel and I were just talking about you."

Dean shared a look with Castiel, who was staring at the ground. He'd seen dads like this, in the type of movies he usually avoided. But for them to exist in real life, and in Castiel's life - Crap.

"Only the good stuff, I pray." Dean blinked.

"And your prayers are answered," Charles grinned back. "I only know that you captain the football team, have a brother in the Student Council, and own a vintage car."

Dean looked at Castiel once more, and sure enough, Castiel was staring haplessly at him. This was uncalled for. He smiled reassuringly, turning back to Charles. "That's quite all there is to be said, Mr. Novak."

It was Charles' turn to look at Castiel. "Chuck Shurley." He corrected, finding Dean's eyes again. "These few days, close to the launch of my new book, I try to get used to my pseudonym, so that I reply to it, at book-signings and conventions." He explained.

"Yeah, Cas told me something about that," Dean answered, with a confidence as if he'd done this - meeting parents - thing often. "Good luck with it, sir."

Sir? Sir? Castiel thought to himself. Dean was like, straight out of the stupid script of a movie. Who calls anyone 'sir' anymore? Like, seriously? 'Mr. Novak' was okay - Sir?

"My job is done. It's the readers' turn, now." Charles replied.

"I'm sure they'll like it." Dean smiled, politely. Castiel thought for a moment on just how great at changing moods, Dean was, amusedly. He could flare up with rage and punch someone, and calm down and make him a nickname, within seconds. And now this? Talking to a date's parent, right like they did it in a 90's fiction film.

"You tell me if you do," Chuck laughed.

"I'll make a point to."

Castiel interjected here. Too much formalities. "Dean. Let's go. Dad, we'll be back soon." He promised, beginning to put on his trenchcoat, as Dean looked at him, closely.

"Yeah, bring him back soon." Chuck sarcastically turned to Dean. "Because he isn't eighteen and does have a curfew and I am going to wait up for him to return, right in this living room, and not go off to bed to re-edit the ending." He enacted out, with a grin.

Dean laughed back. "Okay, and best of luck with the ending."

"Yeah," Charles grinned, and Castiel was assured to see him sit down. It meant they could leave this room with the weird questions which might be asked, anytime. "No doubt, endings are the hardest part. But then, nothing ever really ends. Does it?"

Dean blinked, and slowly turned his head to Castiel. "I guess, in a series like yours, it shouldn't too." He took a step towards Castiel. "So, ready, Cas?" Castiel blinked too. "Yeah."

"Bye." Dean offered, as he strode out the door with a similar pace as before. Castiel turned to look at Chuck carefully.

"I'll b-"

"Be back soon, yeah, I know." Chuck laughed. "He seems cool, though that interaction was straight out of some terribly written play. Have a good time."

Castiel smiled slightly. Thankfully, his dad felt the same way. "Yeah, I will.." He walked out.

Dean was there, sure enough, grinning wide like a Cheshire Cat. "Hey, Cas!" He announced, opening Castiel's door for him.

"You always wanted to do that," Castiel teased, as he got into the front seat, next to Dean.

"Yeah, opening the door for you, has been the only thing on my mind since, I don't know, forever!" Dean replied, dramatically, as he entered through the door on the other side, and looked at Castiel properly. "Before you say something else, that," he pointed with a finger at Paradise. "Was not my best. I guess I was nervous, with it being you and all. And it's just been a long while since I did the meet-parents thing-"

"I'm relieved that I'm not the only one who thought that that belonged in a bad movie." Castiel replied, with a grin, surprised inwardly at how openly they were talking already.

"It was like a family drama at Broadway." Dean agreed. "Although I'm far too beautiful for Broadway. I belong with the big spotlight and close-ups. The camera loves-"

"You, I know." Castiel grinned broader.

"Now, we're completing each other's sentences!" Dean beamed. "That's a big deal!"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "No, you just praise yourself in the same words, a lot."

"Wanna try it again?" Dean ignored Castiel's addition. "You can complete my next sentence!" He cleared his throat, and then began to speak slowly, as if speaking to a three-year-old. "We...are...going...on...a...?" He paused suggestively.

"Bear Hunt?" Castiel completed, cheekily.

Dean raised an eyebrow, impressed. "Touché. But the kid-book wasn't what I was looking for. Maybe we need some practise." He winked. "And the correct answer was, on a date!"

Castiel grinned. "Yes, sorry, I suppose I forgot." He replied, sarcastically. As if he could've.

"I'm sure you didn't." Dean shrugged, nonchalantly. "Because you cleaned up for our date."

Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Cleaned up?"

"You know, you wore a black blazer, actually put in some time into your hair, and I think I smell Hugo Boss." He teased.

Castiel blushed furiously. He knew it'd been a bad idea. "Gabriel said it'd be good," he murmured, not knowing what else to say.

"And," Dean continued, in an upbeat tone. "You managed to turn up looking even better than you do everyday. I like you all suave and dapper, and I like the fact that you got dressed up for me." He drew air-quotes.

Castiel frowned, realising as he stared at Dean's face, that he had leverage too. "In any case, Dean, you got 'cleaned up' for this date too." The thought gave him a strange satisfaction, and he suspected it'd show on his face. "You shaved, gelled your hair, and wore boots."

"I love how you look at me so closely," Dean winked back, unaffected.

"That's not the point." Castiel rolled his eyes.

"Correct." Dean agreed, with a wiggle of his eyebrows. "The point is that you're excited to go on this date, and you better admit it."

"Must we have this completely pointless conversation?"

"Uh, duh." Dean chuckled. Castiel smiled. "And, anyways," Dean continued. "Anybody would be excited to go on this date. Because, the things I have in mind..." Dean's voice trailed off, dramatically.

"Was that supposed to be scary?"

No. It was supposed to be 'suggestive'." Dean shrugged. Castiel patted the Impala's dashboard with his left hand, telling Dean to drive. "So, you can't wait for our date to start off!" Dean reacted, enthusiastically. And then, put on a sympathetic sage like expression. "But, you see, the date's started off already. This car ride is part of it, because we've had some of our most romantic moments in-slash-near it." Castiel swallowed. The 'almost' kiss, sprung to his mind. He opened his mouth to speak, but Dean beat him to it. "Hold that thought. I've got something for you." He turned to the backseat, and begun stretching out to reach something. He dug out a cassette a second later, and showed it to Castiel with a giant smile. "It's for you," he added, as Castiel carefully took it into his hands.

"Dean's Top 13 Zepp Traxx." Castiel read aloud, and turned to Dean, with a softened expression on his face.

"Yeah, yeah, I know," Dean ducked his head between both of his arms, which gripped the steering-wheel, almost shyly. "Nobody listens to mixtapes, anymore - they're not cool - they're very 90's - but I just thought it'd be," Dean paused, and lifted his head again. "Nice."

"It is nice." Castiel grinned a bit. "Cool." Dean straightened, almost as if not nervous anymore. Castiel nodded his head, handing it back to Dean. "It's a gift, you keep those." Dean grinned cheekily.

"Thank you for introducing me to the concept of 'gifts', Dean." Castiel retorted, coyly, the smile not budging from his lips. "I just wanted you to put it into the player, because I guess your car's the only place in our vicinity where I'll get to enjoy the tape." He smiled broader, mirroring Dean. "I want to listen to it now."

"Okay, sure." Dean took it satisfiedly, and inserted it into the player. It took a moment to read it, and then the first song on the list started. Castiel pressed his lips together, identifying it instantly. Stairway to Heaven. He glanced sideways at Dean, who was revving up the engine, finally ready to drive, a very pleased smile on his face, and his green eyes almost shining happily. His head bobbed to the beat, enthusiastically .Castiel smiled, too. Maybe, the song was not so bad after all.

[misha-moose-dean-burger-lover]

FROM DARE, TO LOVE (A Destiel Fanfiction)

CHAPTER SEVEN: “Isn’t it like a big step in our relationship?”

It was Castiel’s turn to shrug. “Because you’re not stupid.”

“And how do you know if I am or not?”

“I have absolutely no idea.” Castiel replied, truthfully. For a moment, they both stared at each other. Castiel didn’t know what Dean was thinking; only that he was thinking nothing at the moment. Just…looking. Experiencing.

Dean shrugged back. “Okay,” he drawled out. “Let’s get to it.”

Castiel turned his head back to his experiment; successfully turning the red litmus blue by his solution, and proving that magnesium hydroxide, which formed by mixing magnesium oxide and hydrogen dioxide (water) was in fact, an alkalic solution, having a pH number of over 7.

None of them spoke a word for the rest of the period, as Castiel finished the second experiment too - a neutralisation reaction between hydrochloric acid and sodium bicarbonate - and then carried his beaker, containing the result of his experiment, to the teacher who inattentively, smiled and drew a tick against Castiel’s name in the class sheet. Dean, meanwhile, had his head on his arm, as his right arm with the pen worked away on the paper, his eyes not even looking up for an instant.

When the class bell rang, Castiel returned to his table, with a huge grin, to find Dean folding his arms over what all he’d written, and doing something on his phone.

“Hey, class over.” Castiel informed Dean, touching his hand, to make him look at him.

Dean looked up, with a jolt, and immediately smiled. Castiel had no idea how a guy could smile as much as Dean Winchester did, at least, to him. “I finished the notes.” Dean pushed Castiel’s journal towards Castiel, who turned it 180 degrees to look at it the right way. Dean put down his phone - with an open screen - on the table, and stood up. He stretched, his muscles flexing, and Castiel had to strain not to look at him as he did so, and focus on the notes.

Castiel was engrossed in reading through each line of Dean Winchester’s meticulously written words, in his clear, if somewhat haphazard letters, when Dean Winchester was busy studying his face. He reached the last line, in about two minutes, and found that he’d been smiling as he read. He didn’t regret it, because Dean was smiling hugely too, with a glint in his eyes, and a hopeful look on his face.

“Great.” Castiel complimented, wanting to squeal as the grin on Dean’s face broadened. “You even wrote about Proust’s contributions to the laws of neutralisation. That’s not even in our syllabus this year! You’ve actually studied this well before!”

“Sammy’s a freshman.” Dean replied, as if that answered everything. He added, at Castiel’s confused face, “He studies a lot, and we’re around each other alone, too much for me to ignore him, however much I try.”

Castiel grinned. “Well, it paid off. The notes are great.” Better than Garth, he wanted to say, but didn’t. “Thank you, Dean.”

“My pleasure, Castiel.” Dean rubbed the back of his neck, almost shyly, his eyes glancing all over the room.

Castiel placed the journal back on his table, closing it neatly, and his eyes momentarily glanced at the blaring screen of Dean’s phone. ‘Stultus in english’ the Google Search read. Castiel resisted the urge to laugh, as the translation 'Idiot’ was displayed as the answer.

He looked up at Dean, who’d caught him in his act.

“So, I’m a Stultus, huh?” Dean pouted - a beautiful scene for Castiel - in a mockingly angry voice. “What happened to 'Because you’re not stupid’, huh?” He imitated Castiel’s voice, lowering his down several octaves.

“There’s a difference.” Castiel defended. “Between stupid and idiot.”

“What exactly is that difference?” Dean teased.

“That you’re not stupid, but you are an idiot.” Castiel pressed his lips together to not let a smile overcome his features.

Dean rolled his eyes. “That’s genius.” He looked at his watch. “What class do you have next?”

“Physics,” he groaned out, almost.

“Ugh,” Dean reciprocated, accurately. “Campbell?”

“Yes.” Castiel pursed his lips. “What do you have?”

“Guess what?” Dean told him with a wink. “I’ll give you a hint; when I’m not on the field, I’m in your classes, cherry-pie.”

“You’ve got Physics too?” Castiel asked. “And who, may I ask, made that decision for you?”

“Why, I did, myself!” Dean grinned back. “Who else?”

“Alright,” Castiel decided not to argue. “Let’s go. He won’t let us enter late. And your handshake thing won’t work with him.”

Dean smiled his agreement. “Hey! I’ll walk you to class!”

“Yeah, you do that.” He replied sarcastically.

“It’s the first time we’re doing that!” Dean grinned. “Isn’t it like a big step in our relationship?”

“Again, not a relationship, Dean.” Castiel deadpanned, enjoying the routine more than he’d like to admit.

“You want my speech again?”

“No.”

“Then don’t 'not’ call this a relationship.”

“Can we just go?”

“Alright!” He almost cheered, and they walked the rest of the way to class.

And that day, Castiel learned something new, and impressive, about Dean.

That he may be a Stultus, but he wasn’t stupid.

And Castiel Novak, at the end of this schoolday, came to see Dean Winchester under a different light. A different light, which hid his false pretentions and showcased his talents, be it on the field as a hardworking player or in class as a good and grossly misunderstood student.

And, a light which brought out the beautiful green emeralds in his eyes.

And Castiel was sure, that he liked it.

***

A/N: I know this was like a really short and kinda not-so-important chapter, but I posted a chapter literally yesterday, and I was pretty overwhelmed by all the love it received (rare for my works, to be honest) so well, here is a small chapter as a short of gift!

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~ Sheya