#I've got another ficlet idea too hmmm

[exmortia]

Shadowgast soulmate ficlet: Found Familiars

Essek/Caleb soulmate AU where a wizard’s familiar manifests from a fragment of their soul, but if they have a soulmate, the familiar comes from their soulmate’s soul instead. Regular D&D familiar mechanics don’t apply here except for pocket dimension poofing and un-poofing. Rated T for someone almost dying.

Like every student at the Soltryce Academy, the time finally comes when Bren learns how to summon a familiar.

It’s a week-long elective course he wasn’t planning on taking yet, preferring to focus his current semester on the fundamentals of magic, but Eadwulf is the first of their friend group to enroll, and he walks into the dorms next week with a raven perched on his shoulder. It becomes a nearly permanent addition to his friend, large and jet-black, with a deceptively strong beak and eyes filled with confidence and intelligence. Eadwulf spends the next few days answering the same standard question from their peers and teachers - “no, it’s mine.”

Astrid borrows Eadwulf’s notes on the spell and summons her own familiar not long after, a razor-eyed falcon that never stops scanning their surroundings and quietly observing anyone within range. Bren is only a little disappointed when she says “it’s mine, I can tell.” He knows, like everyone else, that soulmates are rare.

Soon it’s his turn, and his friends are making good-natured jokes about what form his familiar will take. They’re hoping for another bird just for the irony of it. “Maybe an owl,” Astrid says with a smile. They make bets. Eadwulf puts ten silver on a songbird, and Astrid puts twenty on a bird of prey.

Bren performs the ritual that night in the privacy of his room. As the incense drifts into the air, he secretly hopes for a feline companion, like the one he knew in childhood. Something soft and warm, curled up in his lap and welcoming him back to his room after a long day of classes. He keeps his eyes closed until the spell completes. 

When he looks down, there’s an unexpected shape on his desk, like a scarf dropped lengthwise into a pile. Then it begins to move, glinting with iridescent color in the candlelight as its body slides and shifts on itself, and then he recognizes the creature when a rounded head emerges, tongue flicking out to taste the air in his direction. 

“A snake?” he whispers to himself, confused and disappointed. Where he’d hoped for fur (or even feathers in retrospect), he sees shiny black scales like an inkspill across his desk where the light doesn’t hit. There are no emotions in its tapered face and round, lidless eyes. When the initial shock wears off, he takes a moment to focus and reach for his connection with it, hoping that what he finds is a reflection of himself, just like what his friends have, but what greets him is a feeling so new and foreign that he can’t lie to himself anymore.

Bren dismisses the familiar in a moment of panicked shame. He spends the night agonizing over what he’ll say to his friends and what their reactions will be. “It’s not mine,” he whispers to himself, dreading the moment when he’ll say it to them in person tomorrow. “I don’t know whose it is, but it isn’t mine.”

“You have a soulmate,” Astrid will say with a small, tight smile, the words neutral on the surface, but there’s a guarded expression in her eyes. Bren can only nod in reply, feeling like he’s wronged her somehow, as Eadwulf inspects the coiled snake presented to them in Bren’s outstretched hands.

“I’m sure it will come in handy,” he declares, trying to soothe Bren’s worries the only way he knows how. Astrid agrees, and the tension passes as they walk to their first class of the day. Bren considers dismissing his familiar again, but then he looks longingly at the companions perched on his friends and carefully tucks the serpent into the neck of his shirt beneath his robe. Its cool weight settles across his shoulders, the movement a slow, shifting pressure that feels good in the summer heat and even better when he’s working through a difficult assignment later.

Bren doesn’t find out until a few weeks later that his familiar is dangerous. An altercation with another classmate leads to him being shoved against a wall, the other boy’s grip twisted into the front of his robe with one hand while the other pulls back for a swing at Bren’s face, and suddenly there’s a blur of motion and the boy is stumbling back with a pair of tiny red dots on his chin. He almost dies right there on the floor, lips blue and foaming at the mouth, before one of the professors is drawn to the shouting of gathered students. Bren is instructed, under threat of expulsion, to keep his familiar dismissed while in the presence of others.

Ten years ago and hundreds of miles away, Essek Thelyss stands in his laboratory, blinking incredulously at the small, furry creature that has manifested in front of him. The trouble with being a wizard of a long-lived race who can’t summon a familiar is that you don’t know whether your soulmate has already died or just hasn’t been born yet. Essek didn’t think he needed a familiar, particularly, but he’d gotten into the habit of trying the spell once every few years when he remembered, partly because it stung to be an accomplished wizard who couldn’t summon one, and also because he secretly hoped that his soulmate, the one chosen for him by The Weave itself, had not already departed this world.

He’d lost count of the attempts, but it was somewhere between twenty and twenty-three when the spell finally worked, much to his surprise. His new familiar, with its striped orange fur and long tail curled neatly around its legs, sat on his ritual table and looked back at him with eyes that glinted in the low, ambient light. ‘My soulmate is alive out there,’ Essek thought with a relief he would never admit to, reaching out to stroke the cat’s soft fur as it stretched and began exploring the table, then his workbench, and then anywhere it could possibly get into.

In his youth, Essek had hoped for a more suitable familiar - something that could blend in, yet contribute to his image as a formidable spellcaster, like a snake or a spider, but he’d grown accustomed to not having one. His new feline companion becomes a sort of household pet. It’s not physically affectionate beyond the occasional rub against his legs. Mostly, it prefers to sit elsewhere in the room and watch him work from a distance. When he trances, it patrolls the halls and kills any small, unfortunate animal that dares enter his home. He wonders about the sort of person his soulmate might be, to have their soul reflected in this mindful, intelligent, and often ruthless creature.

One night, a little over ten years after he first summoned his familiar, Essek returns from his work at the Lucid Bastion and begins going about his routine, only to find that his familiar is nowhere to be found. He wonders if something has happened to make it decorporealize, like accidentally toppling a heavy object onto itself (unlikely), or maybe it had gotten outside somehow and didn’t care to return yet (a common recurring event). His familiar had changed over the past few months, becoming even more standoffish and less receptive to physical touch than before, so Essek doesn’t worry about its absence until the following day, when his familiar is still nowhere to be found. Before using his components to repeat the summoning ritual, he decides to make a quick search of his tower, and there, crouched in the furthest corner beneath a display cabinet in an unused room, his familiar stares back at him with wide, unblinking eyes. 

When Essek reaches for his companion, its sudden, piercing, feline scream sends him pitching backwards in shock, until he’s on the floor and his familiar has left behind a series of long scratch marks where it fled. Essek is shaken for the few moments he sits there, confused, and then later, deeply concerned for someone he’s never met before. 

This state of mind becomes normal for Essek over the next eleven years. His familiar is a ghost, hiding and wedging itself under furniture and bursting from its hiding spot in a terrified, screaming bolt of fur and claws when Essek unknowingly gets too close. Sometimes he goes weeks without catching sight of it, but Essek finds himself too sentimental to dismiss his former companion. He fears for the source of his familiar’s soul fragment, whoever this person is, and whatever it was that must have happened to them to cause this.

Hundreds of miles away and a few months later, Bren, now Caleb, accepts a torn-off piece of stolen bread from his new goblin companion, and hundreds of miles away, Essek’s familiar creeps out from beneath the workbench in his lab and slinks out of the room, but not before making brief eye contact with Essek, who stares back in disbelief with a set of alchemical reagents forgotten in his hands. 

A few weeks later, after being roughed up and chased out of town again, Caleb remembers his silent protector from his school days, and Nott watches with fascination as a black snake appears in Caleb’s hands with a snap of his fingers. Nott’s fascination turns to concern as he spends a long moment staring at it, drowning in the memory of those days at the academy before he and his friends caught Trent Ikithon’s eye. Later that evening, Nott asks to hold his familiar, and Caleb worries for a moment, but it allows itself to be handed over, and Nott must constantly adjust her grip as its body moves and slips between her fingers. 

“I think he prefers his master,” she says kindly, and although Caleb hadn’t cared to gender his familiar, the pronoun rings true somehow. Caleb accepts the snake from her and tucks it back into the neck of his coat where its cool, comforting weight helps quiet his intrusive thoughts.

It takes a few more months before Essek can run his fingers through his familiar’s striped fur again. Progress has been slow, but steady, and Essek is relieved not just for his familiar, but for the unnamed soul attached to it. 

Things eventually return to the way they were before, and then continue to change. His familiar becomes his shadow, dutifully following him into every room of his tower. Where before it would perch out of arm’s reach to watch him work, now it walks across the paperwork on his desk and jumps into his lap and demands attention, before it’ll curl up and allow him to keep working. It’s an adjustment compared to what he’s used to, but there’s a weight lifted from his shoulders when he thinks about his soulmate now. At least, most of the time. His familiar refuses to leave his home and still vanishes for hours when he gets visitors, even when they remain on his doorstep and converse with him briefly through the open door.

The day comes when a group of strangers walk into the Lucid Bastion. Even among the chaos that follows, Essek’s attention is drawn, inexplicably, to one of their group - a surprisingly well-spoken human with copper-colored hair and pink, freckled skin, covered in mud and Luxon knows what else. 

Caleb, dressed in nothing but leather straps, had dismissed his snake familiar out of necessity back in Asarius. When the situation in the Bright Queen’s throne room eventually dies down, his attention is drawn to a figure sitting near the dias, imposing in equal measure to the other high-ranking drow around them, but something about this individual catches his attention and keeps it indefinitely. 

Later, when he and the Nein are free to wander Rosohna, Caleb decides not to risk going about with his venomous, spring-coiled companion for now, just in case there’s a misunderstanding with the locals or the guards. 

Essek has his work cut out for him, and these new people don’t stay strangers for long. Despite his frustration at their behavior (often disrespectful and almost always culturally inappropriate), he finds himself responding eagerly to their requests for help when needed. When he sees them, his attention is always drawn first to their wizard, Caleb Widogast, and when he teaches Caleb that first dunamantic spell, it’s a challenge to monitor Caleb’s attention to the correct page of Essek’s spellbook, rather than Caleb himself. Everything about this human man, from the way he murmurs to himself while he works, to how he wrings his hands together during tense conversations, to the purely unexpected talent and raw power in the spells he demonstrates, has captivated Essek over the time he’s spent with these newcomers.

Caleb quietly scolds himself whenever the Shadowhand catches him staring. He’s not accustomed to being around dark elves, and even after the novelty wears off, something about their assigned handler, his new and unexpectedly generous teacher in the dunamantic arts, is drawing his attention and thoughts like an arcane compulsion. Caleb carefully keeps this to himself, not wanting to jeopardize their tenuous position in Roshona or the Shadowhand’s willingness to share his knowledge.

Eventually, as the weeks pass and their relationship with Essek grows out of familiarity and Jester’s brute force method of making friends, the Nein are invited to the Shadowhand’s tower for breakfast and the promise of some collaborative spellwork.

Caleb is regrettably late to the event as he makes a detour to find spell supplies, not wanting to impose on their host any more than necessary. When he arrives, there’s an awkward, semi-private moment where Essek answers the door and greets him. Then he’s led further inside where the others are gathered around a large table, and there’s a weird sort of prickling in the back of his mind as he enters the room. Fjord and Beau are talking and leaning against the table while the others are seated in a small group on the opposite side, except for Jester who is kneeling on the floor and talking to someone or something in a high-pitched voice.

A moment later, Jester makes a sad sound and watches Essek’s familiar slip out from under her hands to go trotting across the floor towards its master, or so she thinks. The cat’s gait breaks into a run, and she gasps as Caleb suddenly falls to his knees, his expression that of a mother who’s been searching all day for their missing child as the cat jumps into his arms. Essek’s familiar must be super friendly with other wizards, she thinks, until she sees the startled look on their host’s face. ‘This is the first time in many years that my familiar has not hidden itself from visitors,’ she remembers him saying as they arrived at the tower, and then he coaxed the cat towards them after she asked if she could pet it, which it accepted with mild, friendly interest. Now Caleb is clutching at its orange striped fur as it rubs against his face over and over again, purring loud enough for everyone to hear, and she’s not sure, but it looks like he might be crying a little.

Caleb carefully stands with the cat cradled in one arm, its outstretched paws making biscuits in the air. He reaches out towards Essek, and there’s a small flash of arcane magic before Caleb’s serpentine familiar appears there, balanced in a tight knot of coils in his upturned hand. Essek stares at it, motionless, until the snake begins to move, its body quickly sliding away from its master and into the space between Essek and Caleb, apparently not caring if it falls before it’s caught. 

Essek reaches out with both hands to meet the snake’s trajectory, and soon the familiar is wrapped around Essek’s forearm, coiled tightly in place like a permanent fixture. Essek lifts his arm and stares into its eyes, carefully running his fingers across the black, iridescent scales with a gentle reverence.

“He’s yours,” Caleb chokes out in joyful tears, knowing but not caring that his friends are watching with a combination of amusement and concerned looks. “I always wondered, but I never dared hope . . .” Caleb clears his throat as Essek stares at him, the drow’s expression hard to read. “He, uh, likes to be up high, around your neck, where he can, um . . . he’s v-venomous by the way. I had to learn that. From experience. But he is a good snake, a very good snake,” Caleb insists as more tears threaten to wet his face. In Caleb’s arms, his new familiar trills and then purrs louder, satisfied, when he bends down to nuzzle his face into its wonderful, beautiful orange fur.

Essek makes a quick decision not to ask about what happened to his feline familiar over that eleven-year period. Maybe later when they’re comfortable and alone. For now, he admires his snake companion, the subtle magical thread of connection between master and familiar already transitioned, painlessly, from old to new. He feels whole and complete, and not just from finding his true familiar. Essek’s affection is quiet and immeasurable as he meets Caleb’s overjoyed grin with his own soft smile.

“Thank you for this,” is all Essek can say without his voice breaking. Later, after Caleb’s friends have staged a friendly interrogation about what happened and what it means for two wizards to exchange familiars (and after he’s taken Caleb’s advice and tucked his new companion into the neck of his robe where it fits perfectly), he’ll take Caleb upstairs, his former familiar dutifully following its new master, and spend a few hours alone with his soulmate. At the end of trading stories about their lives and hardships and hopes for the future, he’ll hold the human’s face in his hands and take the first step towards sealing their bond with a kiss.

[thebloggerbloggerfun]

Hello! I have an idea for the ficlet (feel better btw!). Okay: HS AU with popular!Dean and popular!Cas, they're those two annoying guys who make funny (but also obnoxious) comments in every single class, and make stupid, flirtatious remarks to each other like "Cas looks pretty hot today guys" or "I'm totally dating Dean, everyone" etc. Only thing is, they're secretly in love, but neither will admit it. I've had this idea for a while and I'd LOVE for a talented author to execute it.

Aaaahhh it’s been too long since I’ve done a High School AU and I’ve missed it. Thanks for this one and thanks so much for asking me to fufill the prompt! I hope I do it justice :)

AO3

“Please take your seats quickly. I want to discuss your quiz scores so we can go over any questions you may have before the final test.” Ms. Mills said with a stack of papers clutched against her chest.

Dean stretched his arms above his head as he flopped into his usual seat on the third row, next to the wall so he could lean up against it in times of extreme laziness. He sprawled out accordingly, dropping his backpack to the floor and draping his letterman jacket over his seat until the air conditioning kicked in during the middle of class like it usually did.

“Hey, hot stuff.” Dean said with a nod as Castiel sat down in the seat next to him.

“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel said, barely looking up as he aligned his binder and world history book neatly on the small desk in front of him.

“How was that student council thingy yesterday?” Dean asked, popping a piece of gum into his mouth.

“Absolutely dreary without your shining personality to brighten all of our days,” Castiel murmured, completely straight-faced.

Dean winked as Ms. Mills began talking again.

“Some of you need to look at your notes from the beginning of the year again,” she said as she began passing back the quizzes. “And some of you need to remember that - if you want full credit on the final test - the answer to ‘What are the seven wonders of the ancient world’ is not ‘Castiel Novak’s Ass’ written seven times.”

She frowned when she got to Dean’s desk, dropping the paper on his desk as the rest of the class laughed.

Dean clicked his tongue and made a finger gun at Castiel with another wink.

“Really, Dean? Don’t be childish.” Castiel said, just loud enough for everyone to hear. “We all know that’s not true. I haven’t done any squats in at least a month.”

Dean hummed as he leaned back in his seat, obviously inspecting Castiel’s rear end. “Hmmm. Doesn’t show.”

“If you two are quite finished -” Ms. Mills rolled her eyes and made her way back up to the front of the room and rested a hand on her hip. “Now, did anyone have any questions on anything that you’d like to go over?”

Dean leaned forward and raised his hand.

“Besides you.”

Dean let his hand drop to rest above his heart in a faux-wounded position.

“Ms. Mills. I’m shocked and offended that you would deny me my right to receive an education. I wouldn’t dare waste your time with trivial questions.”

Ms. Mills raised an eyebrow.

“Mmhmm. What’s your question.”

“I noticed that you maked me down on question twelve? We had to name one of the causes of Enlightenment?”

“Again, the answer is not ‘Castiel Novak’s Ass’.”

The class broke out into laughter again as Dean leaned back in his chair and did - yet another - finger gun at his best friend.

“You can pay me after class,” Dean said teasingly.

Castiel nodded seriously.

“Cash or credit?”

The laughter finally died down, ending with a long sigh from the front of the classroom.

“… anyone else have any questions?”

***

Dean leaned back against the wall with the rest of their gym class while Castiel and Meg, who had been elected by Bobby (who’d be damned if any of the students called him Mr. Singer) stood up front, picking teams for dodgeball.

“Ruby,” Meg said with a lazy wave, and Ruby skipped over to stand next to her.

Dean smirked as Castiel pretended to survey the rest of the group before pointing at directly and predictably at Dean.

“I guess I’ll take that fine specimen over there.”

Dean flexed as he practically pranced over to his friend, posing next to him while the rest of the class either chuckled or rolled their eyes.

“Raphael.”

“Anna.”

“Abaddon.”

“Jo.”

The choosing continued until there was no one left and both teams had made their way over to their prospective sides for a pre-game huddle.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Dean said in as loud of a whisper as he dared. “When the whistle blows, Cas, you stay behind and I’ll run ahead so that you can stare at my ass.”

Jo snorted.

“C’mon, Dean. Be serious -”

“No, no,” Castiel interrupted, holding up his hand. “He has a point. I think it’s a worthy sacrifice.”

“You guys are ridiculous.”Jo said, shaking her head. “Anyway, I think we should all run for it and damn the consequences.”

Castiel nodded along as Jo spoke.

“Yes. In all seriousness, Jo’s correct. As team captain, I think that we all should do whatever we can to get our hands on those balls.”

“Cas, you know you can always get your hands on my -”

“Shut the fuck up, Dean,” Jo said in exasperation.

***

Dean stripped off all of his football gear and took a quick shower before running back outside to the bleachers where Castiel usually met him after practice. He didn’t always stick around after school, but when Cas had student government stuff after, he’d watch what was left of Dean’s practices as they tended to go longer.

“How was practice?” Castiel asked, snapping his book closed and hopping off the bleachers to fall in step with Dean.

“Same old, same old,” Dean said, tugging up his shirt to rub at his damp hair. “Coach yells, we run, Lucifer trips Michael, and Benny tries to set me up on a date.”

Castiel tucked his book under his arm and nodded. “Sounds exciting. And you said?”

“That all a man will ever need is a cool drink of water like yourself.” Dean placed a hand over his own heart, bowing his head in reverence.

“A good answer,” Castiel said, nodding in his approval as they neared Dean’s car. “So, what’s your mom making for dinner tonight?”

“The best goddamn mashed potatoes you’ll ever have.”

“Wonderful.” Castiel grinned as he opened the Impala’s passenger side door and slipped inside. “I’m starving.”

They drove the ten minute drive to Dean’s house with the radio turned all the way up, singing the lyrics of various love songs to each other as dramatically as they could, with Castiel reminding Dean to watch the road as needed.

“Mom!” Dean shouted as he opened the front door. “Do we have enough food for a plus one?”

He dropped his backpack and stripped his shoes at the front door, watching Castiel do the same.

“Of course!” he heard from the kitchen. “Who’d you bring?”

“Adonis reincarnate.”

“Dean, you know Castiel is always welcome.” Mary said, and poked her head out from behind the doorframe. “Hello, Cas.”

“Hi, Mrs. Winchester.” Castiel waved before turning to Dean with a raised eyebrow. “Adonis reincarnate, huh? That’s a new one.”

Dean grinned.

“Only the best for you, babe.”

***

“Listen, Dean.”

Dean looked up from where he was shoving all of his clean laundry into its respective drawers while Cas lay on his bed.

“Yeah?”

Castiel’s hands drummed on his stomach.

“I was thinking… what if we went on a date?”

Dean paused and turned completely around, a pair of boxer shorts still in his hand.

“What?”

Castiel propped himself up on his elbows and licked his lips.

“You know. A…. date. You and me. Doing something together.” Dean watched Castiel pause and clear his throat. “Would you want to?”

Dean tilted his head and let a slow smile creep across his lips.

“Cas, I think that’s an amazing idea.”

Castiel’s mouth fell open, and an even wider grin split his face.

“Wait - really? You think?”

“Absolutely! You’re a genius! People will think that’s hilarious!”

Dean burst out laughing at the thought of everyone’s faces at school when they found out. It would really be the icing on the top of the cake for a lot of people. Not only would they flirt with each other at every opportunity, but now an actual date? Incredible.

“Right. Yeah.”

Dean glanced over at Castiel, who was looking away, his smile nearly gone.

“No, it really will be funny! Jo will probably die laughing. It’s a great idea, Cas.”

Castiel chuckled, but even that sounded forced, like he no longer found his idea funny.

“Thanks,” he murmured, flopping back down on the bed and staring out the window.

Weird.

Still, even though it would be a joke, the idea of going on a date with Cas… it was nice. Nicer than he’d thought it would be.

Not that he’d ever…you know.

Thought about that.

“So, what did you want to do for it?” Dean asked, though he already had a list of possibilities that he was running through. Dinner and a movie was up there at the top of the list, just because of how incredibly cliche it was.  

“I don’t care,” Cas mumbled, picking up his book again and turning to his bookmark. “You decide.”

Dean tossed the boxers into his top drawer and rubbed his hands together.

This was going to be the best date of his life.

***

It was not the best date of his life.

It was…okay. Very average, if he had to make a guess.

Definitely by no fault of Dean’s, he finally decided. He was making sure to go out of his way to be especially flirtatious with Castiel on their date by holding doors open, being more touchy-feely than usual, and absolutely drowning him in pet names.

Cas, however, wasn’t playing off of him as well as he usually did.

“Here you are, sunshine,” Dean said, opening the passenger door for Castiel with a flourish. “I hope you enjoyed the meal.”

“Thanks,” Castiel said, sliding into the seat and shutting the door himself, nearly wrenching it from Dean’s grasp.

Dean pressed his lips together as he walked over to the other side of the car to let himself in.

“You doing okay?” he asked and started the car, sparing a glance over to Castiel.

Castiel let out a breath and shot him a quick smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

“Yes. I’m fine. Just a little tired, I think.”

“Oh, okay.” Dean drummed his fingers against the steering wheel as he drove, the silence making the drive a little more awkward than it usually was.

“And here we are,” Dean said cheerfully when they stopped in front of Castiel’s house. “Home sweet home.”

Castiel smiled and leaned his head back on the head rest. “Well, thanks Dean. It was a fun date. We should - what are you doing?”

Dean paused in the middle of opening the driver’s side door.

“Um, walking you to your front door, of course.”

“Oh,” Castiel ducked his head and the dim lighting made it almost look like Castiel was blushing. “Dean, you don’t need to do that. I think I can find my way on my own.”

Dean scoffed and shook his head, as if the very thought of such an act wounded his honor.

“What kind of gentleman would that make me? Please.” he winked and quickly shut the door behind him to get to the other side of the car before Castiel opened the door. “It’s my pleasure.”

Castiel looked up at him as Dean opened the car door, and Dean’s heart couldn’t help but skip a beat.

Oh. Well.

He’d probably just had a little too much fun pretending to be on a date with him, is all. It was just muscle memory for him by now.

Castiel climbed out. Dean shut the door. The two of them walked up to Castiel’s porch.

Just like they would do on a real date.

“Again, thank you, Dean. It was fun.” Castiel said, smiling at him from just a foot away.

“Are you gonna leave me without a goodnight kiss?”

Dean wasn’t sure why he said it, probably because that’s what he did at the end of every date, but the moment it was out of his mouth he knew there was no taking it back. Part of him wasn’t even sure that he wanted to.

Castiel’s lips pulled into slight frown, and Dean realized that’s where he’d been staring for quite some time now.

“What?”

“You know. Goodnight kiss.” Dean pointed to his own lips with a smile.

“Why?” Castiel was squinting now, like he usually did when he didn’t understand something the teacher was saying or when he was working out a math problem.

“To like, make the date official. It’ll be funny.” Dean shrugged.

Castiel’s frown deepened.

“No.Goodnight, Dean.”

“Oh, come on, Cas!” Dean reached out and rested a hand on his forearm as Castiel turned away to open the door to his house. “It won’t mean anything. Just a kiss so we can tell people we did!”

Dean could see Castiel’s grip on the doorknob tighten minimally, and when Castiel looked back with a face full of hurt -

Dean took a step back.

“That’s why I’m saying ‘no’.”

And Dean was left alone on the porch.

***

Dean closed the door to his house as quietly as he could, and rubbed at his eyes in confusion. Something had gone very, very badly and Dean’s mind was experiencing a little too much turbulence for him to figure out what exactly that meant or where it had happened.

“Dean? Is that you?”

Dean rubbed at the back of his head as he made his way into the living room, following the sound of his mother’s voice.

Mary was sitting on the couch with a book in her lap; her hair was pulled back into a messy and reading glasses rested on the tip of her nose.

“Hey, mom.”

Mary looked up and smiled.

“Hey, hun. What were you up to?”

Dean sighed and flopped down on the couch next to her, resting his hands on his stomach.

“Went on a date with Cas.”

“Oh? And how’d it go?”

Dean shrugged and made a noncommittal grunt.

“Well, what did you do for the date?”

“Dinner and a movie.”

Mary raised her eyebrow.

“Really? I thought that was something you only did on first dates.”

Dean frowned and glanced over at his mother as she calmly turned a page in her book.

“It- it was a first date.”

Mary made a face at Dean and tutted as she shook her head in disappointment.

“You’ve never taken your boyfriend on a proper date? Dean.”

Dean sat up.

“Wha - but I - we’re not - it’s not like -” Dean steepled his fingers together and pressed them against his lips. “Wait, what…what makes you think that Cas and I are dating?”

“Well,” Mary pursed her lips thoughtfully and folded a dog-ear in her book. “Besides the intense amount of flirting that’s sort of a giveaway? Two things. One is the way that you look at him.”

“The way I….” Dean trailed off, a question in is voice.

“The way you look at him. Dean, the way you stare at Castiel reminds me of the way people stare at stars. It’s like there’s nothing else in the world you’d rather be looking at.”

Dean felt the a light blush begin crawling up his neck.

“Oh. Um. What’s the second thing, then?”

Mary smiled.

“The way he looks at you.”

***

“Cas! Hey, Cas!”

Dean shoved his way through the crowds of lunch period, trying to catch up to his best friend. Castiel had been extremely successful in avoiding him throughout their classes and even the teachers had noticed that he’d sat on the opposite side of the room from Dean instead right next to him as he usually did.

“‘Scuse me. Pardon me.” Dean used few well-timed elbow jabs until he could finally tap Castiel on the shoulder. “Cas. Hey.”

Castiel glanced over his shoulder and squinted.

“Oh. Hello Dean. How did everyone take the news about our date last night?” he asked, folding his arms in front of his chest and not bothering to hide the slight venom in his voice.

“I uh, I haven’t told anyone.” Dean said, rubbing at the back of his neck. “Look, can we talk?”

Castiel shrugged.

“Sure.”

Dean grabbed Castiel by his hand and led him outside where there weren’t so many people surrounding them before.

He took a deep breath, quickly running through the major points of long speech that he’d prepared in his head. It was full of eloquent apologies and deep confessions that he hoped would help Castiel realize how he felt and maybe help him forgive what an ass he was.

“Will you be my boyfriend?” Dean blurted, then slapped a hand over his mouth.

Castiel’s eyes widened almost comically.

“What?”

“Shit, wait. That was supposed to come last.” Dean licked his lips, feeling the panic set in. “Look, Cas. I’m so sorry about last night. I played it off like it was just a joke but…I don’t think it was. I don’t think any of this has been a joke for me and I’ve just been too much of an idiot to realize it. What I’m trying to say here is, I uh, I really like you, Cas. I don’t want any of this to be pretend anymore. I want you to be my boyfriend.”

Castiel continued to stare, and Dean didn’t blame him for taking his time while he digested the word-vomit that he’d just dumped.

“So…” he said finally. “The date was real?”

Dean shrugged, letting himself smile a little.

“It should have been.”

Castiel nodded to himself and slowly reached out to grab Dean’s hand, giving him plenty of time to move back if this wasn’t something he wanted.

He wanted it.

“Then I think I’d like that very much, Dean.” Castiel murmured, intertwining their fingers together with a grin.

“Awesome.” Dean breathed a sigh of relief and squeezed his hand tightly, not bothering to hide how giddy Castiel’s simple answer had made him. They were holding hands. Of course, they had before, but all of those times were just screwing around being funny.

This wasn’t funny anymore.

It was so much better than that.

It was real.

“So, uh, Cas?” Dean said, ducking his head a little to hide his playful grin.

“Mmmhm?”

“If that date was real, does that mean I can get a goodnight kiss now?”

Castiel raised an eyebrow, a teasing look on his face as he slowly leaned in, causing Dean’s heart to nearly burst from his chest in anticipation-

And pressed a finger against Dean’s lips.

“I never kiss on the first date. I’ll see you later, darling. ”

Dean laughed as Castiel slipped from his grasp and walked away, a slight skip in his step.

“Then I’ll pick you up at eight, hot stuff!” He called after Castiel’s retreating silhouette.

A few meandering students paused and stared at Dean curiously.

“That’s my boyfriend.” Dean said with a nonchalant shrug and the biggest goddamn smile that he’d ever had on his face.