“I’m not a nerd,” Dean protests. That’s of course when his glasses slip down his nose; he avoids pushing them back into place, but his fingers itch to do it and his glasses teeter dangerously close to falling off completely. With a sigh, he gives in and uses his index finger to put them back in place.
“Glasses don’t make you a nerd!” he shoots back.
“Perhaps not,” Bela says. “But the LARPing, the load of AP classes you’re taking, your bizarre fascination with turn of the century science fiction novels, and your strangely specific allergy to tabby cats aren’t helping your image. Face it, Winchester, you’re not exactly a cool kid.”
“And you are?” Dean says through grit teeth. The problem is, they both know she is.
Bela doesn’t even deign to answer his failed attempt to insult her. She moves past it easily, as if Dean is somehow fundamentally incapable of insulting her.
“My point is, of course, that I’m trying to keep you from getting your hopes up. Despite your… unfortunate choice in clothing.”
Dean looks down at his plaid shirt that’s over a black Star Wars shirt with a stormtrooper’s helmet replaced with a jack-o-lantern. Huh, he thought he’d done a good job today… It was seasonal, wasn’t it?
“And despite your even more unfortunate choice in friends like Charlie Bradbury and Benny Lafitte, there’s definite potential there. If you went to contact lenses instead of glasses, that would help. If you burned every last piece of flannel you own along with any shirt that has any form of words on them, that would be an excellent start—”
“Did you seriously just sit by me to insult me?” Dean looks around the library for someone to help him scare Bela away, but there’s no one he knows and Bela stubbornly remains put.
“No, actually. And me saying you’re handsome beneath all that clutter is actually a compliment—”
“That clutter is my life.” He hates that his cheeks flush at being called ‘handsome.’
Bela shrugs. “Look, I’ve heard the rumors that you plan on asking Castiel Novak out to homecoming. I don’t normally put a lot of stock into that sort of thing, but I know you’ve pined over him since he moved here last spring. The looks you send his way in science may as be a billboard that reads I’m in love.” Bela rolls her eyes.
“I-I don’t-I really think—” Dean tries to stutter his way through a denial, but Bela waves it off.
“And while I think it’s adorable…” Her tone implied that it was adorably pathetic more than actually endearing. “… I wanted to point out that Castiel Novak is leaps and bounds out of your league. Although he too suffers from this strange belief that good grades and AP classes are important, he at least balances out his studying with sports and by dressing like he actually respects himself— Where are you going?”
“Away from you,” Dean snaps. He unceremoniously dumps all his stuff into his backpack and storms out of the library, leaving a no doubt smug Bela behind.
Honestly? Fuck her. Yes, Dean has a crush on Cas and he’d love to go to homecoming with the guy, but he’s not an idiot. He knows Cas is too good for him and only talks to him out of pity. Because Cas is a nice guy, who doesn’t care about the stupid cliques the way Bela does. Even so, Dean was never going to ask Cas out. That’s never going to happen, as he’s painfully aware. Cas could have any girl or guy in school. He has absolutely zero interest in a dorky nerd like Dean Winchester.
“Oof!” Dean rounds a corner and walks right into someone. Of course he knocks their books out of their hands and he’s instantly on his hands and knees to help pick them up. “Sorry,” he grumbles. He hopes he doesn’t have tears in his eyes, that’d be embarrassing. “Should’ve been paying more attention.”
“It’s alright, Dean.” Cas’ voice all but paralyzes Dean as he looks up to see familiar blue eyes. “I clearly wasn’t paying enough attention either.”
Dean’s in a daze as the two of them finish getting Cas’ stuff. Cas even offers him a hand to pull him up, and Dean’s heart practically bursts out of his chest because Cas is touching him.
But then strangely, Cas doesn’t let go.
“It’s actually convenient that I ran into you,” Cas says, then blushes slightly. “I mean, not the actual running into you. I would’ve preferred to avoid that. You’re not hurt, are you?”
Unable to form words, Dean just shakes his head.
Cas smiles and yep Dean’s a goner.
“Good. But as I’m sure you know, homecoming is in a few weeks and if you haven’t found a date yet, I was hoping you’d like to go with me.”
Correction: Dean’s clearly already died and gone to heaven.
“Uhhh…” is his elegant reply. Cas stands there patiently, looking so hopeful that Dean suddenly doesn’t care if this is a dream or a hallucination or heaven or whatever. He’s gonna get as much of this as he can. “Yeah, Cas. I’d like that.”
Cas’ response is two parts happiness, one part relief, and it melts Dean’s heart.
“Great,” Cas says sincerely, squeezing Dean’s hand one last time before letting go. “I can’t wait.”
It’s not until later that Dean realizes that there’s an added bonus to going to homecoming with Cas: he gets to rub it in Bela Talbot’s face.
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