Cute Puns and Cutlery

Chapter 1

Cas sat alone in the library, staring out a window but not really seeing the lacrosse field on the other side. Homesickness was winding its cold, clammy hands around his insides once again, worse today than it had been all week. This place was so much bigger, and louder, and stranger than his high school. There was no rulebook, no detention, no obvious hierarchy among the student body. The freedom left Cas feeling a little queasy.

He stood up and grabbed his books, heading for the on-campus cafeteria. Maybe he'd feel better if he ate. He pushed through the double-doors, staring out across the crowded room; perhaps he should sit next to someone, attempt a conversation. The thought made him feel prickly inside, like a curled-up hedgehog. There was a nice-looking red-headed girl sitting alone at a table, maybe she wouldn't mind if
he -

Crash

Cas felt all the air in his lungs escape as something collided heavily with his midriff. He stumbled back, doubled-over and off-balance, with harsh metallic clangs ringing in his ears.

"Whoa, dude! I am so sorry, I didn't see you there." Cas managed to regain enough composure to glance up. Standing a few feet away was a guy carrying an empty tray and wearing a slightly concerned expression, his green eyes wide. Cas thought he recognised the man's face. "You ok, man?"

"Y-Yeah," Cas said, straightening up. "I apologise."

"What? Nah, it's fine, I walked into you," the guy said, waving the tray at him. "Mind helping me pick these up?"

Cas frowned, only then noticing that they were surrounded by fallen cutlery.

"I'm supposed to be taking these to a dinner thing for the staff upstairs," said the guy conversationally, bending down and beginning to gather up handfuls of forks. "That dick Head Chef, Crowley, he's always getting students to do random crap like this, and I'm his favourite person to pick on. I'm Dean, by the way," he added, smiling confidently up at Cas.

After a moment's hesitation, Cas bent down to help Dean.

"Thanks, man," Dean said. "What's your name?"

"Castiel," Cas replied in a monotone. His name was often a source of hilarity to new acquaintances; he didn't suppose this time would be any different.

"Castiel?" Dean repeated, looking intrigued. "Unusual. I like it."

Cas found himself blushing, and bent his head under the pretext of grabbing more spoons to shove back onto the tray.

"Aren't you in my english lit class?" Dean asked suddenly, and Cas thought that the spontaneity in his tone seemed slightly forced. He looked back up at Dean. So, that was why the guy looked familiar; he usually sat a few rows in front of him in their weekly seminars.

"Yes, that's right," Cas said, without inflection.

"Well, maybe I'll see you there," Dean replied with an easy grin, picking up the last knife. Cas nodded silently, and went on his way.

English Lit Class came around too slowly. Cas found his heart beating a little faster than usual as he approached the seminar room. His homesickness hadn't been so bad recently; he'd had other things on his mind for the past two days.

He took his usual seat in the back row, and cast a casual glance around the room. No sign of -

"Hey!"

Dean slid in next to Cas, dropping his bag heavily on the desk.

"Man, what a day," Dean huffed. "Barely ten in the morning and I'm exhausted. What's new with you? Anyone else dropped a tray of cutlery on you recently?"