Chapter 2

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Dean Winchester parked his 67' Chevy Impala in the front of the teacher lot at the high school and began walked towards the front. He entered through the large, glass double doors and waltzed into the main office.

"Winchester.", a rough voice acknowledged him as he walked by Principal Crowley.

"Morning, sir." he replied cheerily, bouncing past on his way to grab his mail.

He continued on to his classroom on the second floor, moving past the small number of students that were here as early as all the teachers were. He sat down at his desk and eyed the room he'd been putting together for the past few weeks and sighed contentedly at his work.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Obviously Harry Potter is better, Gabe. How could the Divergent series even hold a CANDLE to Harry Potter?"

"This copier is worthless."

"If that kid ends up in my class again, I think I might actually kill him this year."

Dean shuffled through the teacher's lounge as conversations stirred. The first day of school for students was always quite an eventful day.

"HEY Deano! How's it hanging? What's up? How's my favorite English teacher doing?", Gabriel exclaimed as he wrapped an arm around Dean's shoulders, grinning.

"Didn't I tell you not to call me that?", He shot Gabriel a look as Gabe smirked and winked.

"Am I interrupting something?", Jessica smiled as she walked over to the two.

"Not at all m'lady." Gabe said bowing to her as she giggled.

"Dean, are you still coming over for dinner on Friday? Sam asked me to remind you." She inquired.

"Of course, wouldn't miss it." Dean smiled and patted her shoulder, "But I should get going. Class is starting soon and I still have some worksheets to print." He said unenthusiastically as he waved at her before heading out of the crowded room and off down the hall. As he turned the corner, his mouth went dry.

Standing in the doorway of the stairs leading to the first floor was a tall, dark, and, as much as Dean's teacher brain didn't want to admit it, sexy guy with piercings and tattoos and intense eyes that made his knees weak. Looking him up and down, he saw a slim, toned frame accentuated by the body-hugging, ripped, black skinny jeans, and thin, gauzy, low-cut shirt that wasn't doing well to hide the ink crawling up from underneath. He had a beanie covering a mess of raven hair and a jacket covered in studs and spikes draped across his shoulders. He had an industrial bar, nose ring, and a dangling cross earring that attached to a ring midway up his ear.

God, never thought I'd be getting a boner over a guy wearing EYELINER.

As soon as that thought popped into his head, he immediately corrected himself.

Jesus, or a student Dean, he's a STUDENT.

The boy looked up darkly and scanned Dean with his eyes, and for a moment, a sliver of his pink tongue peeked out as he quickly moistened the inner rim of his lips. Dean's stomach dropped.

The shrill screeching of the bell snapped him back into reality and the horror of his predicament hit him. He cleared his throat, suddenly feeling very unsettled and hurried off down the hall to his classroom.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Fuck.

Two separate individuals thought one phrase at the same moment. Castiel stood in the doorway of his third period, wishing nothing more than to flip around and sprint right out the door. The man from before, the man who had just eye-fucked him in the middle of a high school hallway full of people was sitting at the desk in the classroom that was presumably his. He triple-checked that he had the right room, desperate for any means of escaping this potentially awkward situation. He hesitantly made his way into the room and searched for an empty seat.

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