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"This is a terrible idea, Sam," Dean said, voice hushed and hurried so no one in the library would hear him. "I really can't do this."

"Dean, you've been staring at him for the past hour. Go talk to him!" Sam hissed, poking his brother with the spine of one of his books.

They were at the library, picking up books for one of Sam's middle school classes. Dean had had to drive him to the library right after his football practice, so Dean was still in his letterman jacket, hair damp and eyes bright when he saw him. A boy, the boy, of Dean's dreams, fantasies, and desires. He was a little smaller than Dean, with ruffled dark hair and those eyes, like every tear Dean had ever shed was crystallized in that hypnotizing blue. He was a fucking masterpiece, and while Dean was well versed in flirtation, he had no idea how to approach this stunning and slightly nerdy boy. He could flirt, yes, but he didn't know how to flirt with someone in a sweater vest.

"How am I supposed to talk to him?" Dean peeked around the edge of the bookshelf to glance at the boy, who was carefully running a slim finger across the spines of the books on the shelf. Dean turned back to his brother, a look of unadulterated panic on his face. "He reads."

Sam sighed disinterestedly and pulled a paperback off of a shelf, inspecting the cover. "This is a library, Dean. Reading is part of the package deal."

"Yeah, but how do you flirt with someone who reads?" Dean asked, eyes furtive. When Sam didn't respond right away, Dean poked him. "Sam?"

"Huh?" Sam looked up, a little dazed. "Sorry, this one looks good," He added the book to the growing pile he held. "What did you say?"

"How do I flirt with a nerd?" Dean asked.

Sam snorted. "Oh ho ho. The Winchester Wonder has run out of tricks!" He exclaimed with a grin. "You do realize that you're trying to get dating advice from an seventh grader, right?"

"Dammit, Sammy. Please, just help me?" Dean pleaded. "This is important! He's really pretty, and he's probably single considering he's in a library on a Friday night. Please, help me!"

Sam sighed and rubbed at his eyes in mock exhaustion. "Okay, okay. Is he carrying any books?"

Dean peered around the bookshelf to check. "No… wait! He's grabbing one now!" Dean reported.

Sam looked up, checking the label on the aisle. "Nonfiction… well, that's easy. Tell him that you read the book that he has. Instant conversation starter!" Sam smiled proudly at Dean, happy that he had thought of the prompt.

"But Sam… I haven't read the book he has. Hell, I cliffnotes all my classes." Dean said.

Sam's eyebrows furrowed. "Well, ignoring the fact that that's a bad idea and you should actually do your schoolwork, that is why it's a blessing that he's in the nonfiction section! The title will tell you all you need to know about the book, and you're quick enough on your feet that he might not figure out that you're lying!"

"Oh," Dean considered. "Wow. That actually could work."

"I know," Sam said. "Now go talk to him, because I don't want to spend my Friday night watching you salivate over some guy." With that, he flipped open one of his books and started reading.

Dean sneered. "Bitch."

"Jerk," Sam responded, not even looking up from his book. He shooed Dean away with the back of his hand. "Now, go!"

Dean took a deep breath, balling his hands into fists and hopping from foot to foot, psyching himself up. "Okay, this is it. You're gonna go up to him, and talk to him, and it's gonna be awesome. And then you're gonna take him on a fucking awesome date, and it's gonna be great, and it'll set the bar for every other date in the history of ever-" Dean's monologue was cut off by his brother, who was glaring at him.

"No wonder you're single." Sam said. "Stop being a dork and go talk to the boy before he leaves."

Dean's heart stopped. Leaves? Shit.. "Alright, here goes," He swallowed and stepped out from his hiding place. He glanced back to see Sam give him a thumbs up before turning back to his book. Dean walked up to the beautiful boy, intent on talking to him, but as soon as the boy turned to look at him with his ocean eyes, Dean stilled and turned, abruptly, to face the bookshelf. He was standing next to the boy, who was still looking at Dean almost in shock, so Dean thumbed a book of the shelf, pretending to look at it whilst his cheeks burned in embarrassment. He could still feel the weight of the boy's stare on him when the boy turned away.

Dean glanced up and saw the boy moving to walk away, and Dean felt something seize inside him. "W-wait!" He stuttered, fumbling to place the book back on the shelf. Because the universe was conspiring to make this as disastrous for Dean as possible, instead of replacing the book, he managed to knock half of the books off of the shelf and into a clattering puddle on the floor.

Dean and the boy stared at the mass of books, whose pages were splayed and fluttering in an unseen breeze, like birds trying to fly away on broken wings.

"Shit," Dean whispered. He quickly knelt and started to collect the books, stacking them as neatly as he could. "Shit, shit, shit," He muttered.

Dean didn't notice the other boy setting down his book to help Dean pick up the dropped ones until their hands met, briefly brushing as they reached for the same book. Dean drew back his hand, blushing hard at the other boy's gentle touch.

All too soon the books were stacked. Dean stood awkwardly, suddenly feeling young and gangly and inexperienced. His tongue felt like cotton in his mouth, dry and useless. "Thank you," He managed to spit out.

The other boy's lips quirked. "Of course," He replied, voice much more gravely and shockingly sexy than Dean would have guessed. "What is it?"

Dean's eyebrows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"You asked me to wait," The boy explained. "Why?"

"Oh!" Dean said. He buried his hands in the pockets of his letterman nervously. "Um… I just…" He swallowed.

"You just what?" The other boy asked gently, tilting his head to the side in an odd imitation of a bird.

"I uh… I noticed the book you're holding. I just wanted to say that I liked it…" Dean's voice trailed off anxiously.

The boy lifted up the book for Dean to see. "You've read The Encyclopedia of Earth Worms?"

Dean felt his heart stop. What? The fucking 'Encyclopedia of Earth Worms'? Who was this guy? "Y-yeah!" Dean said. "Fascinating stuff, right? Bugs and worms and crap… really, uh… riveting."

"I'm trying to figure out what type of worm would help my vegetable garden the best," The boy explained, pale fingers gripping the binding of the book. "Any tips on what worm I should try?"

"The… uh…" Dean stuttered, racking his brain for any knowledge he might have on worms. He unfortunately came back from his search empty handed and replied, "The long ones?"

"The long ones," The boy repeated, a sly smile gracing his devastatingly handsome features. Dean watched as the boy traced his thumb over the raised letters of the title on the books with fascination. "Alright. I'll try the long ones." His eyes traced Dean's features a moment before he said, "My name is Castiel."

"Oh, um… I'm-" Dean started, only to be cut off be the other boy.

"Dean Winchester," Castiel finished, almost on reflex.

Dean stilled. "Yeah… how did you know that?"

"Oh," Castiel's cheeks colored in embarrassment. "You go to Truman high school, right? You're on the football team. I come to all the games."

"Do you go to Truman?" Dean asked. Had the boy of his dreams been right in front of him?

"Well, no," Castiel said. "I'm homeschooled. Super religious parents, but they let me and my siblings go to the games so we aren't total recluses. Gabriel usually sneaks off to party though, but I like them."

"Why?" Dean asked.

Castiel contemplated that. "There's lot of people, all being happy together. I like that. And football is such a community sport. I like that, too. And, well, you're there being obnoxiously attractive which is-" The boy seemed to have registered what he had said and clammed up. "Oops."

Dean's heart stopped and he felt that his cheeks would perpetually remain crimson. Castiel thought he was attractive. Holy shit. "Oh," was all he said, shocked and simple and circular.

"Sorry! I ruined it, didn't I? Can you- just, forget I said that, okay?" Castiel was tripping over his words, obviously flustered, and Dean was too in shock to tell Castiel just how attractive he found him. Castiel took a breath and composed himself. "Do you garden?"

Dean balked. "Excuse me?"

"It's just that you, uh…" Castiel held up the encyclopedia like a shield. "You knew about worms," He let out a half-hearted wry laugh. "So, do you garden?"

Dean blinked and tried to adopt a semi-normal expression, other than the one he wanted to wear right now, which was along the lines of, "Would it be acceptable if I started snogging him right now?". He tried to remember Sam's advice, but it was all swimming away from him. Falling back on his old ways, he decided to embellish the truth a bit (a.k.a lie outright but for the greater good). "Yeah, actually. Um… sunflowers." His mother used to grow sunflowers, so Dean liked the idea of growing them. "I have big yellow ones."

"Really?" Castiel smiled, and Dean thought his heart might burst, it was so adorable. His blue eyes sparkled with joy. "I love sunflowers, because they bring bees! Bees are the best."

Dean let a helpless smile draw lazily across his lips, staring unabashedly at the boy in front of him.

Castiel's lips puckered uncomfortably. "I'm being weird again, right? Sorry, sorry-"

Dean snapped out of his daze. "No, no, it's cute, really," He said, trying to sooth Castiel.

"It's… cute?" Castiel asked, cautiously.

Dean felt his cheeks color. "Y-yeah…" He muttered, ducking his head bashfully and rubbing the back of his neck. He peered up at Castiel from under his eyelashes, finding the glow of Castiel's blue ones. "Hey… would you maybe want to see them?"

"See what?" Castiel asked, clutching onto the worm encyclopedia tightly.

"The… uh… the sunflowers some time." Dean said.

Castiel's lips pressed together in timidly, his cheeks pinking. "Really?"

"Yeah, maybe you could come see them after one of my games?" Dean asked hesitantly.

Castiel grinned. "I'd love that."

"Okay, cool!" Dean replied awkwardly. "Um… maybe you could give me your number and I'll text you when?"

Castiel nodded and Dean pulled out his phone and handed it to Castiel. Castiel, gratefully, didn't notice Dean's hands shaking in excitement. Dean watched Castiel put his phone number into Dean's phone and then Castiel returned to phone with a small smile.

"Awesome," Dean said, pocketing the phone. "It's a date."

Castiel's smile grew. "It's a date?"

Dean turned red again. "Oh, um… yes?"

"Good," was Castiel's answer.

Dean blushed profusely for a moment longer before he realized that he still needed to get back to his brother, who was probably pissed by now. "I should go, but I'll be seeing you, Cas."

"I certainly hope so, Dean," Castiel replied, quickly leaning in and kissing Dean on the cheek. It was barely a brush of lips on skin, but it made Dean pulse with electricity. Castiel, a knowing smirk on his face, sauntered away, the Encyclopedia of Earth Worms in tow.

Dean stood there for a moment, dazed and confused, before turning and stumbling back toward Sam.

When Dean fumbled around the corner of the bookshelf, he was met with the sight of his younger brother surrounded by half-read books. "What the hell, Sam?"

Sam looked up from the book he was working on. "I didn't want to finish any, because what would be the point of checking them out then?" He explained. He closed each book, noting the pages he stopped on, and gathered them back into a pile before looking back up at Dean. "So… what happened? The suspense was killing me." Sam deadpanned.

"I got his number," Dean said. "And a we're going on a date."

"And…" Sam said, expecting Dean to elaborate.

"And we need to plant a garden."

"Wait, what?"