A/N: I'm really sorry this took so long. Mostly I started to think it was really shitty and got really discouraged whenever i opened the document, but also fuckin A levels. If you are in year 11 and about to choose your A levels, don't pick maths. I'm serious. If you don't need it, don't take it, jesus christ. So yeah, this chapter was going to be longer. So it goes. Please leave nice reviews so the next chapter doesn't take like a year.

Chapter Seven

It's Friday, something Cas hadn't realised until this morning. His whole week has been a blur; since his first kiss on Wednesday (something he won't tell Dean for at least a few months), time has passed pretty quickly.

He called Dean last night, talked him around the way his room looks, the beige walls and double bed and desk with textbooks on and the way he doesn't have a box spring because he doesn't like sleeping too far from the ground, and Dean had told Cas about his single bed and red walls and posters of Star Wars and Zeppelin and how the other half belongs to Sam but the dividing line is starting to dissolve and it had been weird to hear Dean's voice without looking into his eyes, but it was nice all the same, even when they'd run out of things to say and just listened to the silence on the line, the reassuring crackle of breath that let them know that the other was still there.

He waits at the bus stop at 3:30. The most annoying thing about this arrangement is the uncertainty of all of it; they don't set specific times for their dates, it's all just borrowed time.

And then Dean comes walking down the road and he doesn't give a fuck anymore because god, they're alone. He loves Anna, but he'd only had two seconds alone with Dean while her back had been turned. This time, he wants to tell Dean everything he's been thinking for the last week and a half.

Dean's wearing the hat again, the woolly beanie he'd had on the first time they met. The dark green wool makes his eyes stand out so much that Cas can see them from fifteen metres away, and Dean flashes him a grin brighter than the sun.

"Hey, stranger," Dean says as he sits down on Cas's right. His arm slides around Cas's waist and his smile lowers to a mild smirk. "Miss me?"

"You are just the worst," Cas deadpans before leaning forwards and kissing Dean quickly, a brief press of their lips before they part. "How was work?"

"Good. Same. School?"

"Boring. So, also same."

"I read your poem."

"Oh yeah?"

Dean pulls it out of his front pocket awkwardly and hands it over. "It was, obviously, awesome. I think I liked the other one better, though."

"Why's that?"

"More passion, I suppose. You're angrier at God than you are at the American education system."

Cas rolls his eyes. "It's not about that and you know it."

"Yeah, I know. Being trapped in a school forever, unable to learn due to deadlines, forced to go through the motions? Nice metaphor for love. But I stand by my point. Not the same amount of passion."

"I guess I don't know that much about love."

Dean frowns. "Really? What, you never been out with someone before?"

Cas shakes his head. "No. Never wanted to. Never had the time. What about you?"

Dean settles back against the glass wall of the shelter, legs spreading slightly more apart as he gets comfortable. His arm is still around Cas. "Yeah, I had a few girls. None of it really felt right, though. It's not." He thinks for a moment, staring a hole into Cas's shoulder. "It's not like I'm gay. It's not cos of that. I mean, I like dudes, but I like girls, so it's not that. It's just. I was in it for the sex, you know? And I don't think I'm like that. I don't think that's gonna work for me. I think I need something more to a relationship for it to be good."

Cas nods, removing his hands from his pockets to fumble his fingers into Dean's. He could say something cheesy like, what do you need? I'll be what you need. You are my rock. But he's read too much Dickens to be comfortable saying that, so he just leans his head on Dean's shoulder and says, "Maybe you just suck."

"Obviously that's not the case. Anyway, you got something for me?"

"Oh." Cas frowns. "No. I forgot."

Dean rolls his eyes. "Typical."

"No come on, I was busy. As soon as we stopped talking I had to write a Philosophy essay."

Dean smiles, his eyes crinkling up at the sides in a way that's weird for someone of nineteen, but charming all the same. "You talked to me instead of doing your homework?"

"Well, I still did my homework. But, I suppose, yeah."

"I'm gonna take that as a big-ass compliment."

"As well you should."

"So where abouts is your school? It's like, just up the road, right?"

"More like three blocks away, but it's pretty close, yeah, why?"

"I was just wondering." He smiles, one side of his mouth turning up. "Don't get paranoid."

And then they make out for a while. Like, ten whole minutes of Cas's hand in Dean's hair and Dean trying to stop himself from continuously smiling into it. Then the bus comes.

Dean watches Cas get onto it with that same side-smile, and Cas waves as the bus pulls away.

"I don't know why you take the bus, Castiel, I really don't," Jo sighs as they walk out of the school building. "I mean, if you wanted to join my little taxi service, I don't mind. I get exploited enough for my transport abilities already, what's one more?"

Cas smirks. They pass the car park and Jo pulls out her keys, pressing a button which leads to the lights flashing on the front of the beat-up old VW. She and Cas idle beside it for a while.

"I don't want to burden you," he tells her, and originally this was true. However, when Jo got a car a month ago, he'd planned on refusing to have her give him rides for a few weeks before giving in. That hasn't been the case, though.

Jo rolls her eyes and scoffs. "Bullshit. You take any excuse to make me carry your books."

Cas frowns. "No, it's you who does that to me."

"Oh. Oh, yeah." She grins. "I'm awesome."

"Okay, I'll leave you to your various pick-ups."

Jo sighs. "If only I could pick up guys the way I pick up my lazy-ass friends..."

Cas just laughs, waving a little before walking off the campus towards the bus shelter. While walking, he narrows his eyes at a shape in the distance, a vaguely human figure waiting just outside the gates. He puts on his glasses and immediately recognises the plaid shirt and fraying jeans, not to mention the smile that's aimed right at him.

"Dean, hey, what are you doing here?" he asks, breaking into a grin.

"Well, I get off work before you get off school, so I thought this way we get to spend more time together." He looks quite sheepish and nervous, like he doesn't know whether this was a good idea. So Cas leans in and kisses him and says, "That's awesome and you're awesome."

"I'm a bad influence on you," Dean mutters, but a little blush has creeped into his cheeks and it's too adorable so Cas takes his hand and swings it between them as they walk.

"So, what, are you gonna do this every day now? Cos, I wouldn't have a problem with that," Cas says coyly.

"I was planning on it, yeah," Dean replies with a smile in his voice to match the one on his face. They're both stupid and Cas loves them.

"How was your day?"

"Lame. Yours?"

"Fine. Better now."

Dean shoves his arm and Cas tries to hide his stumble at the push. "You're such a dork."

They reach the bus station in no time, sloshing through the puddles left by the fading snow. Cas wipes off the wet plastic bench before sitting under the bus shelter, while Dean elects to just sit down. They look at each other and smile, and Cas has to turn away, otherwise he's going to do something dumb like comment on the weather or say, "So this is nice." That's the worst thing to say in a romantic situation. Seeing as this relationship (is that the right word for it? Are they dating? He chooses not to ask) is a first of the kind for him, he hasn't had this problem before. Dean was his first kiss, first love, and that might mean he's allowed to fuck up a tiny bit and make some dumb mistakes, but he doesn't want to allow himself that. Looking at Dean is like looking at a fireplace in the depths of winter, a glass of water after a marathon. (The former is more accurate as fireplaces are hot.) His eyes burn and his breath speeds up and slows down all at once, and he's hungry and full all at the same time.

"How's your brother?" Cas asks, managing to look at Dean's shirt, pretending to be interested in the pattern of it to avoid the stuttering mess he's sure to become at close-proximity eye contact.

"Uh. He's good. Studying hard for January exams."

"I'd love to meet him, you know. Just, if the opportunity ever arises. Or not."

Dean beams, and Cas looks at it, and doesn't regret it. "No, man, that'd be great! He's always on at me to talk to him more about my personal life and shit, and this is a way of doing that without having to talk about my feelings."

"Charming."

Cas glances at his watch – 3:05. "We have an entire hour."

"Really? Man." Dean exhales slowly, before quirking one eyebrow up. "I have an idea."

"Oh no."

"Shut up. There's a coffee shop near here. Wanna sit for a while?"

Oh. This wasn't expected.

A bus stop he can handle. Twenty minutes of conversation and holding hands and sometimes kissing he can handle. But this is an hour in a foreign environment and Dean's biting his lip and it's adorable and of course Cas is going to say yes.