The bell rang, signaling the last class of the day, "Great…English." Dean said to himself. He hated school, especially high school, he'd already wasted three years of his life there, and frankly, he didn't see the point. He sighed walking into his junior English class. His backpack was tossed to the floor next to the last desk in the back of the room.

"My name is Castiel Novak; you can call me Mr. Novak, or Mr. N for short." The blue eyed teacher walked to his desk and picked up his grade book, "I'll be your English teacher this year. I'll begin roll call now." Dean sighed. This guy was a total pushover. You could see it as if it was tattooed on his forehead. Although weather it was the electric blue eyes, or the way he walked, or if it was his build; small and skinny, but still strong looking. "Dean Winchester." "Here,"

The lesson dragged on and on. So much that Dean stopped caring, he put his arms behind his head, and kicked his feet back on his desk and began to doze off. There was a crash beside his desk. Mr. Novak just threw a textbook on the floor next to him, "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to wake you, but that book was just so heavy." Dean saw a small sparkle in his eyes, and he smirked. "Well, that's alright Cas, I like waking up to a pretty face." He winked, which caught his teacher off guard. "Detention, Winchester. My room, after school." Mr. Novak said sternly, "Fine by me." Dean retorted in his usual defiant tone. His teacher furrowed his brow and walked back up to the front of that class. He pointed to a chair right in front of his desk. "Winchester." He said, "This will be your new seat from now on," His tone changed nicer when he talked to the boy in that seat already, "Terribly sorry Adam, would you mind switching seats with him? I need to keep the trouble makers up front where I can keep an eye on them." His eyes flickering to Dean when he said 'Trouble Makers'. Adam packed his things and switched seats with Dean, but Dean just smiled, "Well isn't this going to be fun? I'll be like the little bird on your shoulder." He said to Mr. Novak, to which he just sighed. "Open your book Dean. We're on page 12." Dean humored him as his teacher went on with the lesion, "—Now, the curtains were blue, they represent the man's feelings of depression. His feelings of loneliness, not only that, but the war going on inside him. Should he speak up, or should he just stay locked up in his house?" He paused, and waited for a response. Dean, of course, had one. "Yeah, I'm pretty sure the curtains are just blue." Mr. Novak raised a brow, was Dean actually participating? Or just acting out again? "Why do you think that?" Dean smirked, "They're just curtains. They don't symbolize anything." Mr. Novak was relieved, it seemed as if Dean actually was trying to get along with the lesson. "Actually, it's pretty obvious that the curtains symbolize repressed emotions, they—", Dean cut him off, "I'll stop you there. How do you know this? Does it say something in your 'Magical' teacher's edition? I don't think so. The author probably just likes blue." His teacher just rolled his eyes, "No Dean. They can't be just blue, there has to be meaning. There's always a meaning in literature." To Dean, it seemed as Mr. Novak was getting really defensive. Seriously, why should he care. "The curtains were fucking blue. Deal with it." Mr. Novak fumed. "One week's detention," he placed his arms on Dean's desk, "You will hold your tongue in my class." Dean looked into the teacher's eyes. First out of defiance, but then he saw something in there. He might have not taken Dean's attitude like most people; usually everyone just let him get away with it, but not this one.

Something sparked. There's something about this man that makes Dean think. What was it about him? Sure he was good looking, but the way he interacted with Dean. Something was different. "Did you hear me Winchester?" Dean was shaked from his thoughts, "Yeah, one week." Dean said distantly. "Now, let's continue." Mr. Novak started, Dean checked out. He followed along in his book, but nothing registered.

The bell rang, signaling the end of the day. Dean was jolted back into reality. "You know why I gave you detention, right?" Mr. Novak said sighing, he was now sitting in his chair with his head resting on folded fingers. "Something about me being a Smartass, not paying attention, sleeping? Listen I heard it all before, so you can cut the 'I know there's a good kid in you somewhere' speech. Heard it all before, and I certainly don't need to hear it now." He wasn't lying. It was rare if there was a whole week without receiving a detention. Dean was just a bad kid. "Fine. But you're not a bad kid, school probably just isn't your thing, I'm guessing." Dean agreed, "I know all about it. You're expected to excel at something, expected to do everything you're told to do? I know. I've been there." Dean was interested now. It wasn't very often when someone actually understood, let alone a teacher. "Well that's not something I hear everyday." His teacher smiled, "Sounds to me like you hear something different everyday. Something about you being a 'good kid' if I'm not mistaken." Dean laughed a bit, "You're different, you know that?" Mr. Novak was confused, "What exactly do you mean by that?" Dean stood up and sat on the table part of his desk. "What I mean is, you seem like an okay kind of guy. What are you doing teaching anyways? You seem passionate about it and all, but it doesn't seem to fit." Dean actually was thinking about it, Mr. Novak just didn't seem to fit the teacher part. "Yeah well, I wonder sometimes myself. Now, would you mind telling me why you act out so much?" Now he's getting down to business. Maybe if he got to the route of the problem, he could fix it. Dean was a smart kid, he just didn't apply himself. Dean sighed, "Do I really need a reason? It's just what I do." His teacher, who was now sitting on the edge of his own desk , leaned forward. Dean took the chance, and closed that gap between them, placing his lips gently on his teacher's. He pulled away before Mr. Novak could do anything, and he smirked, looking his teacher straight in the eyes. "I do what I want." Mr. Novak was blushing furiously, sure Dean was good looking, but he was a student! "Calm down, Cas." There was the nickname again. "I'm 19 years old, old enough to make my own decisions, and old enough to know what I'm doing." Nineteen? Isn't he a junior? Must have been held back a few times.

Dean leaned in again, this time Castiel did as well. Dean was consenting after all, not to mention of legal age. The kiss deepened, Dean's tongue brushed against Castiel's lips, asking for entrance. It was allowed of course. Soon Dean found his hands roaming his teacher's body, while his teacher's hands were pulling at his hair. He ran his tongue around Castiel's mouth, licking over his teeth, and against the walls of his mouth. Castiel moaned into Dean's mouth. The kiss was broken. Dean was now kissing down Castiel's neck, biting and licked over select spots. Castiel began tugging at Dean's shirt. Of course Dean was already in the process of removing his teacher's clothes. Starting with the blue tie, then undoing the buttons on his white button up. He ripped it off once all the buttons were undone, discarding it to the floor. Castiel had been successful in removing Dean's shirt. They pulled off each other just long enough to remove the remaining garments, tossing them who knows where.

They were pressed back up against each other almost instantly. Kissing hungrily, their hands roaming everywhere. Hips grinded in musical rhythm .The sounds of moans and sighs of pleasure surrounded them. Dean's hands were bracing his teacher's hips as he trailed his tongue down his neck and onto his torso. Castiel arched his body against Dean's. Dean went in for another kiss, deepening it with every second that passed.

Castiel managed to sit up, having Dean sitting on his lap. As they rocked back and forth on each other, the kiss was broken, and Castiel put two fingers in Dean's mouth. His tongue swirled around the digits, only pulling away when he was sure they were slick enough. Castiel pulled Dean up a bit, just enough to insert one of his fingers into him. He began moving his finger in circular motions, opening Dean up. Then he inserted his second finger, making scissor motions. When he was sure there was enough room, he removed his fingers and replaced them.

Castiel's hands were on Dean's hips, moving him all around as he saw fit. Dean's hands were gripping at Castiel's hair as he ravished the other man's mouth. Soon Dean began rolling his hips along with his teacher's movements, and pulling at his hair, drawing moans from the older man. Dean's hands dropped down onto Castiel's back, dragging his fingers down the sweaty skin. He began kissing Castiel's shoulder, sucking on it, enough to leave a mark.

Castiel let go of Dean's hips with on hands, moving it to Dean, pumping his shaft. Dean let out a loud moan, if he wasn't close already, he sure was now. Castiel could feel it too. A hot pressure building up in his abdomen, ready to burst at any second. He thrust hard into Dean, making him cry out. He began pounding it over and over again. Dean couldn't take anymore and came all over his and Castiel's stomach. Castiel shot his hands up into Dean's hair and yanked as he exploded inside Dean. Crying out from the experience. He pulled out slowly, and Dean pushed him down, lying on top of him. Exhausted and satisfied breaths filled the air. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, and tangled his fingers in his hair, Castiel rested is arms around Dean's midsection and sighed, "Detention. Everyday. For the rest of the year." Dean silently agreed, "So then, What did you think the curtains represented again?" Castiel smiled, and closed his eyes, "I think the curtains were fucking blue."

A/N: Thanks for reading, it's been a while since I wrote anything remotely graphic, so my skills are a bit rusty. Reviews are appreciated!