Literally just my brain already preparing for this year's seasonal sadness in the form of destiel fanfiction what the fRiCk
------------------------------------------------------------------------------
"You motherfucker."
"Me motherfucker?"
Castiel Novak stopped dead in his tracks, staring blatantly at the boy in front of him. It was more than a little nippy outside, freezing, actually, but despite the fact that he couldn't feel his toes and he'd just dropped his third coffee of the day, he couldn't stop himself from staring at the jock who'd just crossed his path. And had now just ran into him, making him drop his coffee.
"You were that annoying asshole who didn't seem to understand the whole 'eyes on your own paper' concept!" He accused, wind stung eyes squinting.
To his surprise, the boy smirked. "Oh, that." He said, feigning innocence. "Come on, you can't pretend like I'm the only one guilty of a little side eyeing."
"And now, you made me spill my coffee." Cas continued. "What is it with assholes and being assholes?"
"Okay, easy, tiger," he jokingly appeased, taking a step back. "Okay, you know what? You need some coffee. Let's go get some coffee."
"I had coffee until someone decided to be an asshole and bump into me."
"Usually I prefer Dean," He laughed, "but 'assholes' cool too, I guess." He started walking. "You coming or not, grumpy cat?"
He didn't move, trying his best not to shiver on the sidewalk.
"At least let me prove the tenuous existence of my non-asshole side by buying you another."
Cas let out an exasperated breath. "It's Castiel." He grumbled, starting to walk. "I'm not about to start with this whole 'grumpy cat' bull."
Dean nodded. "Sure. Can't see why anyone would think that about you."
Cas shot him a glare. "I don't think it's possible for anyone to be happy when it's this fricking cold."
"Sure," Dean remarked, quickly beginning to match his brisk strides. "Makes sense as to why you're wearing a hoodie, then. Not like it's sixteen degrees out, or anything."
Cas narrowed his eyes. He wasn't about to admit to the fact that he hadn't found the time laundry in a few weeks.
"So what's got your tail in a bunch, anyways?" Dean asked, side eyeing Cas.
Cas crossed his arms. "Judging by the way you're flaunting the whole jock getup, I'm going to assume that you don't know what it's like to have four midterms in one day."
"Damn," Dean breathed, a cloud of air escaping his lips. He raised his eyebrows, looking genuinely impressed. "Why on earth would you willingly put yourself through that hell?"
Cas blinked slowly. "I'm going to guess you're not college bound either."
He shrugged, taking more interest than insult in the conversation. "Never saw the appeal. Why waste thousands of dollars on school for a job you're neither guaranteed to get or even like?
He rolled his eyes. "The classic excuse."
"No, seriously. Why volunterily strap a ball and chain to your own ankle when you could be free?" An almost wondrous glimmer reflected off of his emerald eyes. "Drive around, see places, meet people. You know, actually fucking live," he added sarcastically. "Doesn't that seem better than sitting in lectures for four years, only to sit in a cubicle for forty more?"