Castiel rolls his eyes and hunches further over his breakfast, studiously ignoring the voice coming from the Gryffindor table. He flattens down his blue and silver tie and continues eating, pretending that there isn’t an idiot calling out to him from across the great hall.
“Hey, Novak!” comes again, this time louder, closer.
Castiel sighs and turns on his seat, glaring at Dean Winchester as he fast approaches. “Can I help you?”
Dean smirks. “Yeah, you can,” he replies, taking the final steps forwards, into Cas’ personal space where he seems to like spending time so much. “Go on a date with me.”
Castiel bites back another sigh and swivels back to face the table. “No,” he answers, resolute. “Just like the past billion times you’ve asked me, the answer is still no.”
“C’mon,” Dean coaxes, entirely unperturbed by Cas’ rejection, just like he always is, the conceited bastard. “You know you want to. We’ve got a Hogsmeade weekend coming up and you should totally let me take you to Madame Puddifoot’s.”
Castiel scrunches his nose up. “There is no way in hell I would ever step foot in that pink abomination,” Castiel says, back still turned to Dean. “And even less so with you.”
He glances at the watch on his wrist and realises he’s going to have to go back to his dorm to pick up his bags so that he won’t be late for class. It’s Defence Against the Dark Arts first thing on a Monday morning with Professor Singer, and he’s not too lenient when it comes to students being late for class.
Pushing his plate away from him to the middle of the table, Castiel stands up. He quickly moves around Dean, dodging when Dean’s arm comes out to wrap around his waist. Castiel learned a long time ago that one must be sneaky and allusive to escape the intentions of Dean Winchester, and seeing as Dean’s been doing this crap since the start of Fifth Year, Castiel’s pretty well rehearsed in the routine by now.
“You’re missing out, y’know,” Dean boasts, cocky smirk permanently in place. “I’m a real gentleman; take you on the best date you’ve ever been on.”
Castiel’s never actually been on a date, so he thinks that part would be true. Purely for the reasons of logic, of course. It’s not like he’d actually enjoy spending time with Winchester.
Merlin, no. No way at all.
“I’m sure.” Castiel finds that sarcasm serves as the best offence in these situations. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have classes to attend. You know what I’m talking about? Those things that you never turn up to?”
Dean offers a lazy smile and a dismissive wave of his hand. “I’m smart enough without those things,” he proclaims, and that is why Castiel will always say no. He hates the arrogant asshole more than he thought it possible to hate someone so goddamn attractive. “I’d just be wasting my time.”
“Yes, well, some of us choose to follow the rules and pass our NEWTs.”
Castiel doesn’t pause long enough for Dean to make some remark back about nerdy Ravenclaws before he begins to make his way out of the hall. He smiles at some of his friends on the way out – Bela at the Slytherin table, Chuck at the Gryffindor – and he’s in the doorway before he hears Dean’s voice once again.
“One day I’m gonna get you to go out with me, Novak!”
Castiel rolls his eyes yet again and doesn’t stop walking. “I doubt that very much, Winchester.”
If maybe, just maybe, he entertains thoughts of what a date with Dean Winchester may actually be like, no one but him needs to know that. He intends to keep it that way.
It’s not so much that he doesn’t think Dean is attractive. It’s not like he’s blind or anything, alright? Hecan see that the freckles that dust across his nose and the ashy blond of his hair and the way his mouth curls into a smirk are all absolutely gorgeous.
He can see it all and, Merlin, he thinks Dean Winchester is hot.
But he also thinks he’s an idiot.
Dean Winchester started at Hogwarts on the same day as Cas did, and he strode into the Great Hall like he owned the place. Castiel was happy to skulk at the back, unnoticed, until it was his time to be sorted, but Dean seemed to have no qualms about proclaiming himself the new king of Hogwarts, even at eleven years old.
Dean is everything that Castiel despises: loud and brash and obnoxious, thinking he’s so great just because he’s smart and handsome and a Gryffindor. Dean blows things up in Potions just for the fun of it and is the captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, and at fifteen years old he decided it was his life’s mission to get nerdy Castiel Novak to go on a date with him.
The first time he asked – over confident and cocky, who’s surprised? – Castiel just hurried off with a scowl, thinking Dean was merely teasing him.
When Dean asked again the next day, and again the day after that, and again and again and again until Castiel was pre-emptively saying no before Dean even opened his mouth, that’s when Castiel realised he meant it.
But just because he means it doesn’t mean he wants it for the right reasons.
Dean wants to go out on a date with Castiel because Castiel is a challenge. He wants to take Cas out and feel him up a bit, go home to all his friends afterwards and tell all about how he conquered the nerd and copped a feel.
As soon as Castiel is no longer a challenge, Dean will lose interest, and there’s a small, stupid, irrational part of Cas that never wants that day to come.
It’s stupid for him to have a crush on someone he rejects going out with on a daily basis. But hey, he’s a wizard, nothing in his life seems too strange to him after that revelation came in the post.
On Tuesday, Dean asks during double Arthimancy with Professor Gallagher by charming the symbols on Castiel’s parchment to write out the phrase. Castiel says no by charming Dean’s parchment to hit him in the face.
On Wednesday, Dean asks by creeping up on Castiel in the library and whispering it in his ear. Castiel’s (fairly undignified) rejection comes in the form of him flailing and falling out of his chair. The librarian throws them both out for making too much noise, and Castiel storms back to the Ravenclaw common room without a word, scowling and cursing the Winchester name internally.
On Thursday, it is slightly less eventful. They don’t have any classes together that day, and the Great Hall was especially busy during breakfast, lunch and dinner, so Dean just yells it out to Cas when they pass each other in the hall. Cas yells back no, and tells himself he doesn’t hate that that’s the only time he sees Dean all day.
When it comes to Friday, Castiel’s thinking he probably won’t bother going into Hogsmeade at the weekend. He’s got a lot of homework to do, anyway, and it’s not exactly like he’s the type of person to go to Zonko’s and have the time of his life.
He’s sitting in the Ravenclaw common room, curled up on the armchair by the fire with History of Magic open in his lap. He’s warm and cosy and content, and it’s only lunch so he still has some classes to go to, but until then he’s happy to simply sit in the common room. He’s so absorbed in his book that he doesn’t notice a figure beside his chair until it clears its throat.
Castiel’s head snaps up, and then realises it needs to go up a little more. Sam Winchester is stood beside him, only a Third Year but still taller than he has any right to be at such a young age.
Sam smiles sheepishly, hair flopping over his eyes and dimples coming out with a vengeance. “Hey, Cas.”
Castiel is friends with Sam. When he’d first heard that Dean’s little brother was coming to the school and subsequently seen him being sorted into Ravenclaw, Cas’ heart had sunk at the idea of yet another Winchester in his life to tease him. However, he was pleasantly surprised upon meeting him that he was very different from his brother, and they’re actually quite good friends.
“Are you ok?”
“Yeah,” Sam says, a little too quickly. He blushes slightly and scuffs his shoes against the carpet, looking down at his feet. “Um, well, there’s actually something I wanna talk to you about.”
Castiel frowns, confused. “Ok?”
“You, uh. You know my brother, right?” Castiel continues to frown, but he nods also. “And you know that tomorrow’s a Hogsmeade weekend, right?” Castiel nods again, still confused. “Well, uh, I was wondering if you were going?”
“I wasn’t planning to,” Castiel admits. “Why?”
Sam blushes a little more and won’t meet Cas’ eye. “Well, um. I was wondering if maybe you’d go with Dean?”
Castiel blanches. “Are you asking me out for your brother?”
“Yes?” Sam says quietly, making it sound more like an embarrassed question than an actual answer. All Castiel can do is blink up at him in a daze. “Look, I just – he didn’t ask me to do this, ok? I promise you he did not put me up to this. Merlin, he’d probably actually Kedavra me if he knew I was doing this. But I know he asks you out pretty much every day and you always say no and I was thinking that maybe this time, I don’t know, maybe – maybe you could say yes?”
Castiel continues to blink and let his jaw hang slack. He has no idea how to deal with this, because with Dean it’s easy to say no. With Dean it’s easy to see the smirk on his face and all the friends that hang around him and tell himself that Dean is an asshole who doesn’t want Castiel the same way Castiel wants him. It’s easy to tell himself that Dean is shallow and arrogant and not worth a second of Castiel’s time.
But with Sam, Castiel knows he wouldn’t be doing this unless he thought it was a good idea. Castiel knows that Sam would never do anything to purposely hurt Castiel, including setting him up so that his older brother could get a date.
Sam must be mistaken in what he thinks Dean’s intentions really are.
“He – he doesn’t actually want to date me.” Castiel is absolutely sure of it, and his voice is definitely notshaking. “I’m just a chase.”
“Do you really think that?” Sam asks, incredulous. Castiel’s mouth opens and closes around unformed answers, and Sam talks over any attempt Cas could try and make. “Dude, dude, no. He actually likes you. Merlin, how could you not know that? He’s been asking you out every day for the past two years. Do you really think he’d chase that long if he didn’t?”
Well, when you put it that way, Castiel does feel a little moronic.
“But he – and I – he always –“
Sam cuts Castiel’s ramblings off in their infancy. “I know he’s a jerk and he’s cocky and everything, but I don’t think that bothers you as much as you want it to, does it?” Castiel finds himself shaking his head in agreement before he can stop himself. “Look, Cas, when Dean and I go home for summer, Dean tends to not shut up about you. He tells our mom about how one day he’s going to bring you back and make you eat her pie. Merlin, Cas, he’s already half in love with you and not giving up until you feel the same.”
Castiel gapes and stares up at Sam. His feet are bringing him to stand without his volition and he’s left his book in the armchair. He glances around the Ravenclaw common room on a Friday midday and thinks that maybe there’s something better he could be doing with his time.
Something that maybe he could have been doing for two years now, if he wasn’t such a dumbass.
“Is Dean still at lunch?” Cas asks. Sam smiles widely and nods enthusiastically. “Ok. Ok, yes. Thank you. I’ll, uh. I’ll be right back.”
Sam snorts and mutters, “I wouldn’t count on it,” under his breath, but Castiel is already out of the door and half running towards the Great Hall before he can hear it.
His feet move him faster than he even thought possible, and soon enough – maybe too soon, if the pounding of his heart against his ribcage is anything to go by – he’s in the Great Hall, scanning the Gryffindor table for signs of freckles and a pretty smile.
He finds it soon enough, sitting down one end with his friends, Victor and Benny, and Castiel walks over to him before he loses all courage.
The room is noisy and blood pounds in Cas’ ears, but he makes his way to Dean’s side and taps him on the shoulder. Dean turns around to look up at Cas, smile slipping just slightly at the sight. It quickly turns into one of his trademark smirks and he stands up and steps in close to Cas.
This time, Cas doesn’t step away.
“Hi there, gorgeous,” Dean croons, drawl out in full force like it always is whenever they’re like this. “Come to say yes to me?”
“No,” Castiel says, and this time, for the first time, he notices the way Dean’s smile slips, just slightly, at the rejection. “I’ve got something ask you.”
Dean’s brows furrow. “Oh yeah?” Cas nods. “Go ahead then, angel, I’m all ears.”
“Do you tell your mother about me?” Cas demands to know. Dean just blinks, jaw gone slack and eyes wide. But Cas needs to know, damn it, and he is determined to get an answer. “Dean, tell me the truth. Do you, or do you not, tell your mother that one day I will coming back to yours to taste her pie?”
“I –“ Dean starts, cutting himself off to swallow heavily. Castiel levels him with a stare that tells him he’ll not be getting away without answering this, and Dean’s shoulders visibly deflate. “I, um. Yes. Yes, I do. Have you been talking to Sammy?”
Castiel ignores the question and feels something bloom, warm and entirely welcome, in his chest.
“Right,” he says, letting a smile spread across his mouth. “Ok. That’s good.”
He doesn’t give Dean a chance to look confused for long, because then he’s swooping in, cupping Dean’s jaw lightly and pressing his lips against Dean’s.
For a second, Dean doesn’t respond, and Castiel begins to worry. But then Dean growls, low, in the back of his throat, brings his hands to curve around Cas’ waist and pull them flush together. He licks his way into Cas’ mouth, biting at his bottom lip, and they’re in the middle of the Great Hall with probably everyone watching, but Castiel can’t find it in himself to care.
He pulls away after a little while, flushed and panting and smiling so widely his cheeks ache. Dean’s doing exactly the same thing and they’re still holding onto each other, refusing to let go and ignoring the catcalling they can hear from all around them.
“Ask me again,” Castiel requests.
Dean smiles, not a smirk, and rubs his thumbs over Cas’ hipbones. “Hey, Novak,” he starts, earning him a little breath of laughter from Cas. “Go on a date with me.”
“Ok,” Castiel replies simply, still smiling. “But only if you promise we don’t have to go to Madame Puddifoot’s, for Merlin’s sake.”
Dean chuckles and leans in to press a soft kiss to the corner of Castiel’s mouth, and Castiel thinks he can definitely get used to this development. He’d be happy to, in fact.