#lemonsorbae

A loud thump startles Castiel out of the doze he was slipping in and out of. He jerks up with a start, looking around for the source of the noise blearily and finding it easily enough. Dean is standing right beside him, his physics textbook tossed onto the desk.

Castiel shoots him a half-hearted glare and leans back in his seat, blearily rubbing his eyes. “What do you want, Dean?”

“Well hello to you too, Sunshine,” Dean greets. “When was the last time you slept, man? You left drool on your textbook.”

A glance down reveals this to be true. Castiel winces and attempts to scrub it off with his sleeve. He only succeeds in wrinkling the paper. He gives up with a sigh, flipping the book closed before eyeing Dean wearily. “What do you want?” he repeats. He is far too tired for Dean’s antics at this moment.

Dean snorts at him and pulls out a chair to plop into, dropping his backpack carelessly to the ground at his feet. “I’ve got a physics test, remember? You wanted me to go over some review stuff with you before I took it, so here I am.”

Castiel blinks. He had completely forgotten about that. The only reason he had happened to be in the library at all is because he had wanted a quiet place to study for his precalculus exam.

Oh well. Dean’s here anyways, and Castiel can always study during his free hour. It’s not like he was getting much work done before Dean interrupted him anyways.

“Right, of course,” Castiel says, glancing at the clock behind the librarian’s desk. “You’re late. You were supposed to meet me here seventeen minutes ago.”

Dean’s mouth drops open. “Dude, are you kidding me? You were asleep, and you’re going to rail me for being a little late?”

Fair point. Castiel grumbles at him and slides a hand down his face. “Yeah, whatever. Let’s just get this over with.”

They work right up until the bell, going over everything from basic definitions to Ampère's circuital law. If he’s being honest, Castiel can admit that Dean probably doesn’t even need tutoring in this subject anymore. His main struggles are math-related, and he’s already mastered all the formulas he would need for this course. Despite the image Dean projects, he really is quite smart. Brilliant, even. The boy could rival Castiel’s spot for valedictorian if he just applied himself for once.

Still, Castiel knows how stressed-out Dean was for this test, even if Dean did his best to hide it behind his devil may care façade. Physics and Auto Shop are the only subjects Dean really cares about. It’s the other ones, like English and Algebra 3, that Castiel has to push Dean to work hard in.

“Seriously, man,” Dean starts as they pack up, “what’s got you so worn out? It’s not like you’re the type to stay up partying all night.”

Castiel shoots him a dry look. “Not that it’s any of your business, but I was up late studying for an exam.”

“Studying? Why? You’re a nerd, you don’t need to study.” Dean looks genuinely puzzled, and Castiel has to hide a fond smile at the expression.

“Dean, by that logic I could make the argument that since you’re a ‘jock,’ you don’t actually need football practice.”

Dean tips his head to the side. “Fair enough,” he concedes. “And how many times do I have to tell you not to do the air quotes thing? It’s lame as hell.” He pauses in zipping up his backpack, licking his lips nervously. Castiel does his best not to track the movement. “Okay, be honest. How do you think I’m gonna do on the test?”

Castiel’s demeanor softens, Dean’s insecurity eating away at him. “You’re going to do great. You are much smarter than you give yourself credit for.”

A brilliant flush spreads over Dean’s cheeks at the praise. He nods once and clears his throat awkwardly. “Right. Uh, thanks.” Castiel can pinpoint the moment the mask slides back up, Dean’s soft expression morphing into a cocky one. “So, you gonna give me a good luck kiss or what?”

It’s clearly one of Dean’s attempts to act like a dick, but once the thought enters Castiel’s mind, he can’t shake it. Castiel has, much to his dismay, developed somewhat of a crush on the other boy. To feel Dean’s lips pressed against his own, even just for a split second, would be… Besides, for all that Dean puts Castiel through, he deserves at least a little payback.

Castiel quickly leans forward to place a gentle peck on Dean’s lips. It barely lasts a second, but the slack jawed look Dean gives him when he pulls back is priceless. Castiel grins and gives him an exaggerated wink before hauling his bag onto his shoulders and taking off, Dean left sanding motionless behind him.

Definitely worth it.

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“What’s up with your boyfriend?” Balthazar prods at lunch that same day, poking Castiel in the ribs.

Castiel grunts and rolls his eyes, taking another bite of his sandwich. The bread is stale and the lettuce is far from crisp, but it’s about as good as you can expect from cafeteria food, and Castiel would like to savor it in peace. “For the last time, he’s not my boyfriend. I’m just tutoring him,” he chides. “Besides, what are you even talking about?”

“He keeps looking your way every five seconds,” Balth explains. Castiel blinks and looks up at him in shock. Balthazar just wiggles his eyebrows and grins. “It’s like he can’t keep his eyes off you. How romantic.”

Castiel can feel a blush heating his face and Balthazar laughs at him. “Whatever,” he grumbles. There’s no way Dean is actually looking at him. Dean never pays him any attention outside of their spot in the library. Balthazar is probably just teasing him. As always.

Castiel should really find a better friend.

“I’m serious!” Balthazar protests. “Look for yourself if you don’t believe me.”

He unleashes a dramatic sigh when Castiel keeps his gaze firmly on his lunch tray. “Fine, be that way,” Balth huffs, but he does mercifully change the subject.

Castiel doesn’t risk it until several minutes later, once Balthazar has left to attempt to woo the lunch ladies into giving him seconds. Carefully, he glances up towards the tables where the football players sit, trying to be subtle about it.

Dean is looking straight at him. The moment he notices Castiel has caught him he blushes enough that Castiel can see it from across the room and quickly turns back around to focus his gaze on the table. From what Castiel can tell, Dean doesn’t risk looking his way again.

How utterly strange.

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Castiel doesn’t really see Dean again, other than fleeting glimpses in the hallways, until two days later. It’s a Thursday, which means he and Dean have their biweekly afterschool tutoring session. The school library is usually just about deserted at this time of day, all of the other students having escaped back to their houses. The quiet atmosphere and access to computers makes it the ideal spot for his and Dean’s sessions.

Castiel, as always, arrives first. Dean, as always, arrives five minutes late. Dean is grinning as he approaches the table, and Castiel raises an eyebrow at him.

“Guess what?” Dean says once he’s directly in front of Castiel.

Castiel waits until he realizes Dean is expecting him to reply. “What?”

“I got a hundred percent on the test!”

Dean’s enthusiasm is rivaled by Castiel’s, who gives Dean a wide, gummy grin. “Dean, that’s amazing! I told you that you’d do fine.”

Dean smiles and rubs the back of his neck, glancing down at his feet before looking back up at Castiel. “Yeah,” he says gruffly. “I uh, I guess that good luck kiss worked.”

The pink flush on Dean’s cheeks makes Castiel smile. “Hmm,” he says teasingly, seizing the chance to torture Dean a bit more, “Maybe we’ll have to do that every time.”

Dean’s eyes widen, mouth opening and closing, and Castiel laughs at him before shaking his head. “Sit down, Dean. We’re doing English today.”

Dean’s answering pout only makes Castiel smile wider.

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“You know,” Dean says a week later as they finish up another session, his voice a strange mix between teasing and nervous, “I’m turning in that English essay tomorrow.”

Castiel hums in acknowledgement, focusing on organizing his papers. “I hope you do well.”

“Yeah,” Dean says. “Yeah, me too. Only… I think some good luck could be pretty damn helpful.”

It takes Castiel a moment to process what Dean is implying, but once he does he sucks in a sharp breath and looks up, eyes wide. Dean’s expression is one of cautious hope, and it quickly falls at the look on Castiel’s face.

“I—never mind, I was just being stupid—”

“Dean,” Castiel interjects, halting the other boy’s nervous rambling. He steels himself and passes his tongue over his suddenly dry lips. “You’re going to have to lean forward a bit if you expect me to be able to reach you.”

This time, when their lips brush for the briefest of moments, Dean isn’t the only one blushing.

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It becomes a sort of tradition after that. It’s not something either of them acknowledges or discusses, but without fail, every time Dean has some important assignment or test, he’ll request a good luck kiss.

And the thing is, they work. Dean’s grades go up across the board. Granted, logically speaking that’s probably a result of something else entirely, but still. It’s an excuse to keep going along with it.

The one thing Castiel can’t seem to piece together is why Dean’s choosing to go along with it. He’s straight.  He likes beautiful girls with alluring curves and dainty giggles. Castiel knows this, he’s seen the girls Dean dates first hand. And even if that wasn’t the case, even if Dean was interested in men, he still wouldn’t be interested in someone like Castiel.

Now, Castiel isn’t insecure. He knows that he’s moderately attractive, that his brains and dry sense of humor have their own special appeal. But he’s also not so delusional as to think he’s any match for someone like Dean. He’s not charming or suave, he’s not drop-dead gorgeous, and he’s certainly not athletic. Not to mention the fact that he’s well near the bottom on the popularity chain. Other than a few acquaintances like Kevin or Hannah, he really only has one friend. And while that doesn’t bother him in the slightest, it certainly might bother Dean, or at the very least Dean’s friends.

So why on earth is Dean doing this? It could be a joke of some sort, but Castiel is certain that Dean isn’t that cruel. Sure, he puts on an arrogant act, but that’s all it is. An act.

Well, hopefully. Cas might just be biased towards Dean, after all.

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“Balthazar,” Castiel intones, voice laced with warning, “enough.”

“Oh, come on, Cassie,” Balthazar whines. “I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on.”

Castiel slams his locker shut with a bang, only to look in his hands and realize he grabbed the wrong textbook. He growls in frustration and starts entering the code to open it again. “I don’t need your help.”

“Clearly, you do. You’ve been acting weird for weeks, and I’m willing to bet that it’s because of that Dean guy.”

Castiel ignores him in favor of finally swinging his locker open again. He throws his Chemistry textbook back in and grabs his English one with more force than necessary.

Yes, he can admit that he’s been acting more strangely than usual lately. He keeps switching between hoping that Dean feels something in return and beating himself up for even considering that to be a possibility. The kissing and the way Dean has been acting around him lately are enough to make him question his certainty, but everything else makes him think that he must just be projecting his feelings. This back and forth has affected his mood to the point that he’s been far more irritable than he typically is.

It certainly doesn’t help that Balthazar won’t stop pestering him about it.

“You know, the first step to solving a problem is admitting you have one,” Balthazar says in a sing song voice.

Castiel shakes his head and stalks away, weaving through the crowded halls. He reaches the refuge of the English classroom before Balth can catch up with him again.

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“Jeez, man, glare at that table any harder and you’ll burn a hole straight through it.”

Castiel jerks his head up, surprised beyond belief that Dean is actually on time for once. On any other day he would make some fond yet sarcastic remark congratulating Dean on it, but today his can barely work up a strained smile and a “Hello, Dean.”

Dean eyes him strangely as he takes the seat across from Castiel. “You feeling okay? There’s nothing urgent I gotta study for, so you can just go home if you want.”

The thinly veiled concern in Dean’s eyes is enough to make Castiel’s smile just a bit more genuine. “I’m fine, Dean. It’s just… It’s been a very long week,” he explains with a sigh.

Dean doesn’t look entirely convinced, but he does pull out his math homework to go over some problems with Castiel.

Castiel doubled up on math classes sophomore year, so he already took Algebra 3 last year. Between that and the fact that math is one of his favorite subjects, helping Dean in this class is usually a breeze. But this time Castiel somehow manages to make three careless mistakes on the same problem, and it definitely doesn’t escape Dean’s notice.

“You sure you’re alright? You seem pretty distracted this week.” Dean leans back in his seat, twirling a pencil between his fingers with practiced ease. “Let me guess, girl troubles?”

It’s meant to be teasing, but Castiel just sighs. “You could say that.”

The pencil halts mid-twirl. “Seriously?”

Castiel gnaws on his bottom lip, debating how much to say. This is a horrible idea. A stupid, terrible idea, but something in Castiel just decides to hell with it. “Actually,” he says, avoiding Dean’s gaze, “It’s um, guy trouble.”

Dean freezes, an expression on his face not unlike the one he had when Castiel kissed him the first time. “I—really?” Dean chokes out.

Castiel just nods, already regretting his decision. Dean is probably homophobic, and now he’s probably going to start avoiding Castiel, or at the very least be uncomfortable around him, and—

Dean jolts him out of his thoughts by clearing his throat. “Um, alright. Cool.”

Castiel raises his eyebrows. “’Cool’?”

Dean just shrugs. “Well, yeah. Look, I admit I was surprised at first, but it’s not like I’m a homophobic dick or anything.”

A blush makes its way up Castiel’s neck. Admittedly, he does have the tendency to jump to conclusions, but still. He should have had more faith in Dean. “I… thanks. For not, you know…”

Dean just smiles at him and rolls his eyes. “Whatever man. Now, on number nine, how do did you say you solve for x?” ----------------------------

Castiel had reluctantly admitted his crush to Balthazar not long after his talk with Dean. Balthazar had simply claimed that he had “totally called it” and told Castiel to “stop being such a wuss and ask Dean out already.”

If only it were that easy. But the fact is that Dean is still uninterested and Castiel is simply not willing to set himself up for rejection. If that makes him a coward, then so be it, but that is not a risk he is willing to take. He would rather have Dean as a friend (if you can even call their strange companionship that) than not at all. Besides, Castiel is Dean’s assigned tutor and he’d really rather not mess things up for the rest of the year. Facing Dean twice a week for two hours with Dean knowing that Castiel likes him would be humiliating.

Even though Balthazar was utterly useless in actually helping Castiel, he has at least stopped nagging Castiel about Dean as often. Castiel considers himself lucky for that, because the last thing he needs at the moment is more stress.

Something, though Castiel couldn’t pinpoint exactly what, shifted between him and Dean after that talk. Dean seemed… off, somehow. And sometimes, when Castiel eats lunch with Balth, he’ll catch Dean looking over at him with an expression that’s almost sad. But that doesn’t make any sense. What could Dean possibly be sad about?

It’s not until three weeks later as Dean is turning to leave the library and go home that Castiel realizes something.

“Aren’t you forgetting something?”

Dean pauses and spins back around, eyes scanning the table before he scrunches his eyebrows at Castiel. “Um, no? What?”

Castiel grins at him and lifts an eyebrow. “You have a math test tomorrow.”

Dean frowns slightly, shifting the weight of his backpack on his shoulders. “Yeah,” he says, “I know.”

Castiel blinks. “Won’t you need some luck?”

“Oh.” Dean glances away from Castiel, looking uncertain. “I figured you… Look, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Castiel’s heart sinks in his chest. He should have seen this coming. Of course Dean wouldn’t be okay with that any more. Not after he’s found out that Castiel is gay. Especially not if he ever suspects that Castiel likes him.

He knew he should have just kept his mouth shut. Hell, he never should have even started this stupid thing in the first place. Castiel rearranges his expression until it is carefully blank. “I understand,” he says, quickly averting his attention to put away his books.

Dean runs a hand through his hair. Castiel doesn’t know why he won’t just leave already and let Castiel mope in peace. “Cas, look, it’s not that I—”

“It’s fine, Dean,” Castiel interrupts. He doesn’t want to hear excuses. Dean is perfectly justified in his discomfort, Castiel knows that. He doesn’t need any explanations. All he needs is to go home and sulk like the pathetic person he is and try to get rid of these stupid feelings. “I get it.”

“No, you don’t,” Dean stresses. “It’s not—I just—I don’t want to piss off your boyfriend.”

Castiel pauses, the book that was in his hands dropping to the table with a steady thunk. “Excuse me?”

Dean looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “Look, I know this… thing we’ve been doing is just a stupid joke and all that, and that it doesn’t even mean anything. Hell, you’ve probably already told your boyfriend all about it, and he’s probably fine with it, but it just… I can’t.”

Castiel just stares at him. “My… boyfriend?”

“Uh, yeah,” Dean says, eyebrows raised. “Smarmy British dude, always wears V-necks, is constantly hanging around you? Ringing any bells?”

“Balthazar? You think I’m dating Balth?”

Dean opens and closes his mouth, suddenly looking unsure of himself. “Um. Yes?”

Castiel shakes his head, dumbstruck. “No. Heavens no. Balth? Really?” He scrunches up his nose at the thought. Yes, Balthazar is his best friend, and yes, Castiel can admit he’s somewhat attractive, but dating him?

“But, I mean, last month I kept seeing you guys arguing a lot, and then you said you were having guy troubles, and you’re always with him so I just thought…” Dean gives him a sheepish grin. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed…”

“No, you shouldn’t have,” Castiel agrees. “But I understand. It’s a reasonable assumption to make.”

Dean gives him a relieved smile. They both stand there awkwardly for a moment, unsure what to do now. Castiel picks up the textbook he had dropped, needing to busy his hands.

“So…” Dean says, shuffling his feet.  “Ever figure out that guy trouble, then?”

Castiel snorts. Secretly, he’s pleased that Dean is making an effort to talk to him more. They never used to discuss anything outside of school work, unless you count Dean’s attempts to annoy Castiel or get him off-subject. Still, of all the topics Dean could choose, he has to ask Castiel about this? “Not really,” he admits, thumbing at the pages of the book nervously. “It doesn’t matter. It’s just a stupid crush. The guy is straight anyways, so it’s not like I ever had a chance in the first place.”

He almost swears he sees a relieved expression cross Dean’s face, but it’s gone before he can even blink. “Ah, well, in that case… I mean, are you thinking of dating anyone else?”

There’s an unmistakably hopefully undertone to Dean’s voice, and Castiel almost drops the book again. “What?” Surely Castiel must be misinterpreting this situation.

But the blush tinging Dean’s cheeks says otherwise. “I mean, I know I’m probably not your type or anything, but if you want maybe we can like, go out or something?”

“I—but—you’re straight,” Castiel sputters.

Dean blinks at him in surprise. “Bisexual. I thought… I mean, the whole football team knows, I figured word would have gotten out.”

Castiel shakes his head dazedly. Dean Winchester is not only not straight, but he is also apparently willing to go out with him. What on Earth…?

Dean grimaces and runs a hand through his hair, making it stick up every which way. “I take that as a no, then?” he says, and the resignation in his voice makes Castiel’s heart constrict.

“No! I mean, yes! Not no to you, but no to taking it as—you’re my guy thing,” Castiel blurts out. Dean looks utterly baffled and Castiel rushes to explain before he can mess up this situation even more. “You’re the straight guy I had—have—a crush on. At least, I thought you were straight, but I guess…”

The grin that erupts across Dean’s face is nearly blinding. “You know,” he says, taking a step closer to Castiel, “for being such a smart guy, you sure can be an idiot. All you had to do was ask.”

“Oh shut up,” Castiel grumbles. He is more than a little disgruntled to admit that Balthazar was right. Lord, when Balthazar catches wind of this he’ll never let Castiel hear the end of it. “Have you changed your mind about needing some luck?”

Dean nods enthusiastically. “Definitely. Actually, I might need a bit more luck than usual. Maybe it’ll transfer better if we do it open mouthed?”

Castiel hums and fists his hands in Dean’s t-shirt. “We can certainly try,” he murmurs, already leaning in.

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