Teach Me

Keep my Hands off you

Cas was dreading history class. He hadn't seen Dean since the night before when he'd impulsively ran out on him in an attempt to dam the river of angst he had been feeling. It wasn't one of his smartest moves, but it also wasn't one of his dumbest. It would have been idiotic to try and reconcile with Dean in a state like that.
Castiel was staring at the wall in his dorm room. He thought that a good night's sleep would have helped, and it probably would have except for the fact that he didn't actually get a good night's sleep. He had been up all night revising for quizzes and catching up on everything he'd managed to miss in the crazy three days he'd been at college. THREE DAYS? Cas ran a hand through his hair that was now sticking up from how many times he'd compulsively put his fingers through it. He'd only been at college for three, almost four, fucking days and already everything was a wild mess. Stuff like this never happened to Castiel and yet here he was; bags under his tired eyes and a stack of books and messy papers spread everywhere. Art school was supposed to be enjoyable, but Cas had failed to consider all of the entry-level courses he had to take just to prove himself. History was in five minutes, he had better get going.

***

Dean was thirty minutes late as usual, and as usual Gabriel came in just minutes before the teacher looking like he'd just had a quickie with someone in the bathroom; which he probably had considering that Sam came in looking the same way about two minuets after. The two sat beside each other a couple rows down, and from exactly where Cas was sitting, he could see they were holding hands under the table. He grinned to himself, at least some things were going right.
When Dean finally showed up, the conversation in the hall turned off like a tap. He looked like he'd barely slept, but was hiding it well under the magnetic energy that surrounded him.

"Good morning class," he said, turning on his computer as the projector came to life. "Today we're going to be following up with last class's topic about the nature of war, war crimes and overall ethics. Notebooks out, I expect you to be following along."
Castiel watched Dean, mesmerized as usual. He watched him speak, he watched the way his lips moved over his teeth, and the way his fingers bent when he gestured with them. He tried to take notes, he really did, but he just lost himself when he looked at Dean. It was impossible to take in anything he was saying when Cas's eyes were following the curve of his ass in his dress-pants. He felt dirty watching Dean like this, but it was like dangling a carrot in front of a rabbit and expecting the rabbit to not want to eat it. Castiel continued to stare, slant eyed at his professor until suddenly Dean's eyes fixed firmly onto his. Cas sat up, ram-rod straight.
"When we talk about the heinous deeds committed by mankind we must also consider the act of forgiveness. There are always many circumstances that come into play when someone does something, but we cannot always perceive all of the reasons, or understand them. Therefore it is important to attempt to see someone else's side even if what they've done is initially taken to be unforgivable. Remember, there's two or more sides to every story, and an objective view involves considering each one of them." Dean's eyes slid off of Castiel's. It felt like he'd been talking to him like he was the only one in the room. Cas felt his mouth fall open.
"Now class, turn to page 273 in your textbook and answer questions 3 and 9 in a short essay." Mr. Winchester continued seamlessly, even though he'd just been very obviously delivering a personal message. At least, it was obvious to Castiel. He turned back to his book, dumbfounded. Dean was asking to be forgiven right in front of everyone.
The bell rang suddenly. Everyone scrambled for their books and bags.
"Your essay is due tomorrow! No exceptions!" Dean called over the din.
Castiel started rapidly gathering his things. He didn't want to be the last one out of class, and then get suck alone with Dean. He raced down the steps leading down to the main floor of the hall, trying to get to the door.
"Castiel," he heard Dean call. Cas froze, looking longingly towards the door as the other students poured into it and away. He wasn't going to get away without confrontation.
"Can you come here a minute?"
Slowly, Cas turned towards Dean's desk, keeping his eyes down. He stopped in front of it, not looking up at who was sitting there.
The last person left the room. They were alone again.
"Castiel will you look at me," Dean said softly.
Castiel looked up and nearly jumped. For some reason it hurt to look at Dean just then, like he was looking into the sun.
"I hope you know that I meant what i said yesterday," he said, clasping his hands on top of his papers.
Cas shivered at the memory, he'd been trying not to think about yesterday. It was too much for him to handle. "I kind of got that from your little 'forgiveness' speech," Cas replied unable to keep a note of bitterness out of his voice. No matter what Dean was saying, he wasn't so sure if he could trust him now.
Dean grinned slyly. "Did you like that then?"
The way he said it sent shivers down Cas's spine. He shrugged. Dean sighed, and got out of his desk so that they both were eye level with each other.
"Look I said that there were two sides to every story. I'd really appreciate it if you would hear mine."
"What did you have in mind?" Cas asked numbly. This was a bad idea, this was a bad idea.
"The bars around here are swarming with college students as we found out yesterday, so we could go to a bar in the town over. If you'd be willing?" Dean asked, unable to keep the hope and apprehension out of his deep voice.
"That's not very smart," Cas muttered.
"Why not?" Dean demanded.
"Because is someone sees us there it will be obvious that we went there to get out of the way! To be alone!" Cas hissed, trying to keep his voice down.
"Well then what do you suggest!?" Dean hissed back, slamming his hands down on the desk and staring into Cas's eyes fiercely. "We can't just go to the bar down the street!"
"Why not? I ran into you there! It wouldn't be so hard to believe that the same thing happened again!" Castiel challenged.
"Because," Dean whisper-yelled through his clenched teeth, his face flushed. "I don't think i'll be able to keep my hands off you."
Castiel paled.
The tension in the room climaxed and then hung there, daringly. The blood rushed from Cas's face to another part of his anatomy so fast that he was nearly dizzy. Dean was sucking in giant breaths and trying to calm himself, but he couldn't stop staring at Cas, he couldn't tear his eyes away.
"Six O'clock, my place," Dean panted. "Meet me in the parking lot." He struggled to get the words out, as if fighting an impulse with all his strength.
"O - okay," Castiel replied, the words slipping out in a rush before he even had time to think. He wanted Dean pressed up against him, he wanted to feel the bones underneath his skin...
"Now get out of here before I do something stupid," Dean whispered, biting his lip.
Castiel licked his own lips and nodded before dashing out as fast as his compromised-self would allow. He needed to find the nearest bathroom before he had to go change his pants instead.