Dean was so at ease – they hadn't said hardly two words to each other, but Dean either didn't care or was too practiced with giving random lifts to people to be bothered.

By the time Cas realized they had gone way past his apartment, he was too caught up in the moment to speak up about it. At some point he vaguely understood that Dean probably had no intention of taking him back to his apartment in the first place. His heart jumped in his chest and his breath caught at the implications. He licked his lips nervously and let his fingers skim under Dean's jacket. He felt Dean chuckle more than he heard it, and Cas stalled his movements, shocked when Dean leaned into the touch. Cas felt the firm muscle under his palm and tried to look at anything around them to keep himself from blushing. He'd never touched another person like that – not like this.

Not with the butterflies swelling so much in his stomach he thought they'd burst out of his mouth and fly away.

He watched the buildings streak past. If people followed them with their eyes it was only for a moment before they kept walking or driving. In a random burst of anxiety, Cas worried that someone would recognize them only to calm himself with the understanding that it was dark and they were probably going too fast anyway – besides, all the people who knew him were back at Delta House.

Here he was, with Dean Winchester, who didn't know him at all. Who, last he had seen, had been acting extremely interested in Lisa Braeden, but was now taking him somewhere on the back of his motorcycle.

A second later, he felt them slow down, coasting to a stop beside a lit diner that he had been to maybe once before with a few friends when they had ventured this far into the city.

Cas didn't understand.

He had thought ...he blushed and Dean cut the engine, turning around, eyebrows raised.

"I don't know about you, but I could go for a milkshake," Dean said, grinning, and Cas tried to swallow the lump in his throat again.

"P–pardon?" he replied, and Dean smiled wider, wilder, if that was possible.

"A milkshake? You know what that is, right?" Dean laughed at him, green eyes searching his face. Cas felt his face heat up even more as "I'm sorry, I don't really have any money..." Cas stammered and Dean waved him off, shoving his keys into his pockets.

"Good thing I plan on paying." Dean sighed, holding an arm out at the curb. "After you."

Cas reluctantly climbed off of the bike, trying not to squeeze too hard when he used

Dean's shoulder for balance. He stood a foot or so from him watching as Dean stood, humming to himself. He oozed confidence, and Cas had to try his best not to just check him out every time he got the chance.

Dean just smirked, pulling a cigarette from a pack stowed in his jacket, the matches balanced in the other hand. He lit up and took a pull, offering it to Cas as they stood right outside the diner, the lights from inside Casting shadows on the street.

"You smoke?"

"Not really," Cas replied. Dean shrugged and surged ahead, still humming to himself, singing a little under his breath, Cas following behind him, the bell above the diner door jingling as they entered.

"Ellen!" Dean called, and a woman turned behind the counter, smiling at him.

"Well, look what the cat dragged in!" she said, pouring coffee into the mug of the man hunched over the sports section of that day's paper. Cas fidgeted with his sweater as Ellen's eyes slid over him and then back to Dean, questioning.

"The usual?" she asked, but her voice held a tone that Cas knew was asking more than that.

Dean smiled at her, not bothered in the least, and then looked at Cas, waving him forward.

"Two please," he responded, and then he indicated for Cas to follow him to a booth towards the back, Dean sliding in on one side and Cas sliding in on the other.

"Jo working tonight?" Dean said to Ellen, leaning back, tapping his smoke out in an ashtray by the window. Cas watched him, astounded that Dean hadn't even asked for his name but was buying him a 'usual'.

"No, she's off. I'll have that right out for you boys..." Ellen trailed off, jotting something down and going through to the kitchen to put their order in. Dean smiled and brought his cigarette back up to his mouth, finally turning his eyes to Cas.

Cas took a breath and twisted his hands together on his lap.

"You'll like this place. Food's great," Dean started, blowing smoke out the side of his mouth. Cas nodded.

"I've been here before," he replied shortly, suddenly irritated with how presumptuous the whole thing was. He just wanted a ride home, and now he was out of his comfort zone and the idiot smiling at him was to blame.

"Have you?" Dean laughed. "Well, then you know."

"I guess."

 Dean looked at him with hooded, lazy regard, eyes smoothing over Cas' face and then down, to where the table cut his torso off. Cas cleared his throat and Dean flicked his eyes back up to him.

"You know about me?" Dean said all at once, his smirk back, careless and curious. He pulled on his cigarette and Cas shifted a little, glancing out the window.

"Not much, really."

"That's surprising," Dean exclaimed, a little more animated. "Most people know all about me. Especially if they're at a Delta party. But you don't look like the usual. You must live in the library."

"I'm studying to become a Doctor," Cas interjected and Dean grinned, bared his teeth, almost like he was impressed or something.

There was a pause and Cas counted the grains of salt spilled on the table, distracting himself from Dean's eyes, until Dean leaned forward, palming his chin.

"So, you queer?"

Cas' face shot up and he inhaled sharply, staring at Dean who was smiling softly at him. Cas glanced away, his cheeks no doubt stained with red.

"So what if I am?" he whispered, and he couldn't believe he'd actually said it out loud. To Dean Winchester of all people. #### he was stupid. There was no reason for him to admit that, but – Dean didn't look offended. He didn't even look excited about it. It was as if he'd asked what classes Cas was taking or what records he listened to. ####, he was stupid.

Dean nodded and shrugged. "I figured. Last time someone looked at me like you did at Lisa's, I got laid." Cas' eyes widened. "I don't even know you!" he hissed, "I just was trying to walk home, and you picked me up and –!"

"Now I'm buying you a milkshake," Dean finished for him. "And fries too." He tapped his cigarette out. "Pretty good for a first date, if you ask me."

"Wha– First date?" Cas choked out, turning to look at Dean with wide eyes, his mouth hanging open.

Dean only grinned at him, shrugging again "First date."

He said it so matter–of–factly, like this is the only reason why he offered Cas a ride– just so that he could take him to this diner and buy him some French fries and a milkshake, and then claim it as their first date. They didn't even know each other. Cas only knew about Dean from what Hester had told him back at the party, and Dean hadn't even asked for his name yet.

"You don't even know my name."

"Then tell me."

Castiel narrowed his eyes and leaned back in his seat, but Dean didn't falter at all. He just sat there, watching Castiel. The way Dean was staring at him made him nervous and his voice faltered as he spoke.

"C–Castiel."

"Castiel," Dean repeated, easily rolling his name off of his tongue, and the way that he said it sent chills down Castiel's spine. It made his cheeks grow red and butterflies flutter around in his stomach.

"So is this why you picked me up? To bring me to a diner to get a milkshake and some fries?"

"Basically." Dean leaned back in his seat too, and he just looked so nonchalant, like he didn't have a care in the world. He didn't seem to care about being out in public with Cas, buying him food and claiming this to be their 'first date' out loud. "I saw you at the party and you looked, well, interesting. But then you left before I could talk to you. I was going to let you go, but, I figured, 'Hey, why not?' You only live once, right?

"You weren't even planning on taking me home, were you?"

"Not yet."

Castiel laughed softly, shaking his head as he turned back to look outside of the window. The street lights were barely illuminating the sidewalk, and a car passed by.

"That's not how you ask to take someone out."

"What?" And this time, Dean faltered.

"It's better to ask politely. Not offer them a ride a home, and then just not take them home."

"Well, I am actually planning to take you home afterward, if that makes anything better."

"I don't think that counts."

Dean didn't say anything for a few moments, and Castiel turned to look at him again, smiling softly when he saw that Dean had his mouth slightly agape, as if he didn't even know what to say.

"But, y'know, this is kinda nice. I was pretty hungry anyway." Castiel shrugged and Dean straightened up, grinning the way he had been before, bordering on feral.

Castiel pushed his glasses up with his finger and tapped his nails on the Formica, a tense silence falling over them.

"So, tell me Castiel, what's your story?" Dean asked after a moment, jamming the remainder of his cigarette into the ashtray, one arm thrown over the back of the booth. He tilted his head at Castiel, inclining him to speak. Castiel stopped drumming on the table top and tried to think of something to say. He wasn't really the kind of person with a story – he was just going to school. He was going to become a doctor. He lived alone in a ###### apartment and pretended to touch girls at parties.

This was probably the most interesting thingthat had ever happened to him, so he supposed he might as well tell the truth.