AN: Requested by Ale: High school AU where Dean is popular but for some reason notices Cas in the hallways.

A letter to my sweet Ale:

Your compliments make me blush. And, love, you're always welcome to request fics, it's what I live for! This is a brilliant idea, and I can almost see it playing out like the movie/musical Grease. I actually think I'll set it in the 50's. Also, don't apologize for your English. You speak better English than a lot of people I know, and they've been speaking English their whole lives. Also, lovely Ale, I think you might be getting that M you asked for! Just don't hate me if it's not good D:

Onwards! WARNING There's swearing.

Chapter 1

Dean Winchester dropped his tray onto the lunch table with a clatter. He slid gracefully onto the bench in front of it, pulling a packet of cigarettes from his leather jacket.

"Hey, boys," he addressed the table at large, slipping the cigarette between his lips. "Anyone got a match?"

"Sure thing," one of the guys, Gordon, replied, pulling out a matchbook. "Just give us the juicy details about your night with Lisa, and they're all yours." He waved the matches tauntingly in front of Dean's face.

Dean's hand shot out, easily snatching the matches away from Gordon. "How do you think it went?" he smirked, striking a match and lighting his cigarette. His eyes trailed from the table to the other side of the cafeteria, where Lisa was buying her food.

"Come on, you've got to give us more than that!" Another kid from the table spoke up. Dean didn't even know this one—most of the kids just flocked to his table every day, every one of them wishing to be part of Dean's crew.

"Yeah!" this time, Roy, someone Dean actually knew, yelled. "I heard you two fucked." The guys around the table all shoved each other and nodded appreciatively.

Dean just shrugged nonchalantly, winking slyly at Lisa as she walked by. She blushed bright red but kept walking. He turned back to his table, pulling on the cigarette and letting the smoke escape through his nose. One of the guys at the table nudged him, nodding towards Lisa.

"Hey, Winchester," he laughed, "looks like someone's about to steal your girl."

"She's not my girl," Dean drawled, turning around uninterestedly to find Lisa talking to a random boy. The boy fidgeted with his beige sweater as they talked, occasionally pausing to push his glasses up the bridge of his nose. His hair was black and ruffled, and the glasses hid a pair of bright blue eyes. He smiled warmly at Lisa as they finished their conversation, turning to walk away. Dean's eyes followed him as he exited the cafeteria.

"Worried?" a guy named Walt asked.

"About her talking to some nerd?" Dean snorted, flicking ash off the end of his cigarette. "Hardly."

"Seemed like they were getting pretty friendly."

"Like, I said, she's not my girl." Dean stubbed the cigarette butt out against his high top converse.

"Besides," Gordon added, "I heard he liked dick anyways."

"I don't know, it sure looked like he was getting cozy with Lisa. Is there something you're not telling us about her, Winchester?" Roy chimed in again with a grin.

"Fuck off," Dean answered, standing as the bell rang. "You're just jealous it was me, and not you."

"As if," Roy smirked. "I don't need your sloppy seconds." He grabbed his bag, slinging it over his shoulder. "Catch you after school."

"Sure thing," Dean mumbled as Roy turned away quickly.

The cafeteria cleared within seconds as everyone hurried off to class. Dean slowly gathered his things, meandering out into the hallways. He pulled out another cigarette and lit a match again, cupping his hands around the flame as he lit the smoke. He looked up from the match just in time to run straight into a rushing form. The still lit match flew from Dean's hand onto the other person's skin, making the stranger yelp in pain and snatch his hand back, sending a textbook tumbling to the floor.

"Sorry," Dean muttered, stooping to pick up the book. He picked it up roughly, the front cover flipping open. "Here you go… Castiel," he said reading the name scrawled neatly on the inside.

"Thanks," a deep voice scratched out in reply, grabbing the book back before hurrying down the hall again. Dean turned quickly, barely catching the flash of beige sweater as it swept around the corner.

AN: Well, there you have it. Chapter 1. Not as long as my usual chapters, but I didn't want to draw it out unnecessarily.