Cas wished, with every part of him, that he could reciprocate. He stiffened and kept rocking with her, trying his best to be at ease, but he felt so suddenly clumsy, and even though he didn't trip or anything, he felt supremely out of sync. It was maddening to be so offbeat, and yet he had to keep dancing anyway, regardless of how he felt.

It wasn't even like he could explain himself –the reason Hester was barking up the completely wrong tree. He wanted to just stop her as she experimentally slid her hand over his neck, but he couldn't. He couldn't do anything about it because he was a boy and she was a beautiful girl and it was a Delta party and even if he knew the reason he sure as hell couldn't show it.

Hester tilted her head shyly at him and he smiled, and he hoped the pity he felt for her wasn't too obvious. She was one of the best friends he had, and he was desperate not to lose her.

Things at school had been going so well. So much better than he'd ever anticipated and he would do anything not to ruin it like he had at home. He must have frowned because Hester suddenly looked concerned, blinking at him, his gaze zeroing in on her cat–eye liner. She had been pouring over magazines for hours, probably, just to look as good for him as possible and it made his stomach drop.

"Something wrong?" she said loud enough for him to hear.

"Oh, no, just thinking," he answered quickly and she giggled, playing with his sweater.

"You know, you can tell me what's wrong..." she continued

No, I really can't, Cas thought desperately, but he just laughed a little, pushing away from her as the record transitioned into a faster song, one that didn't require any intimate touching.

"I know," he replied instead, Hester giggling nervously, fiddling with the ends of her hair. She was smoothing it down as she let her eyes drift over the room and she grabbed Cas' arm, her face suddenly scarlet.

"He's staring right at us," she squeaked, looking up at Cas.

Cas furrowed his brow. "Who?"

"Dean," she stressed, glancing around Cas' body again. "Right at us I can't even believe it – oh gosh, here quick, switch with me," she babbled, twisting and shoving Cas so that he was standing where she had been previously. He stared at her face, voice incredulous.

"Hester, I hardly think he's looking right at us," he began, but she wasn't listening, her face bright red. She peered up at Cas, starting to turn her head over her shoulder, but stopping herself.

"Is he still looking? He was looking right at me, it was horrible!"

"Horrible? Hester, really..." Cas teased, and he finally lifted his eyes.

"Is he?"

Cas sort of moved his head towards the sound of her voice, but only out of reflex. He couldn't have done much more.

It was frightening; slightly horrible, just like Hester had said, but not entirely. No. It couldn't have been all horrible because, while he felt trapped, he didn't want to run. He didn't want it to stop. His heart hammered and he immediately felt his palms start to get clammy as he held his breath. Dean Winchester held his stare and wouldn't let it go. Just watching him from the back wall of the room, his one hand fiddling with a bottle cap, the other holding a beer, and Cas finally remembered to inhale, and he smiled.

Small.

Cas' lips felt uncomfortably dry, and he was just about to dart his tongue out to soothe them when Dean finally broke the contact, his eyes flitting to Hester and then right back to Cas with no time for any sort of recovery.

"Cas?"

Cas opened his mouth to say something, and he could feel Hester digging her nails into his sweater, but it was like he was experiencing it from very far away. Dean raised the beer to his mouth and took a pull from it before lowering it and giving Cas a deeper smile, the corners of his mouth digging into his cheeks. Cas' fingers twitched and Dean stepped forward from the wall.

Cas immediately feared that he was going to come straight for him, but Dean walked around to the other side of the room instead. Cas followed every step, still reeling, waiting for the young man to stop and turn around and – Cas' imagination didn't get any farther than that.

"When did Lisa come in here?" Hester whispered, and Cas found reality piling down on him as he was thrust back into the moment. Lisa...he saw where Dean stood now and there she was, in her yellow party dress, her dark hair laying perfectly on her perfect shoulders, and Dean was leaning his arm over her on the wall, smiling down at her bright face.

Cas blinked at the sight of Dean grinning at her. She laughed, moving to half cover her red lips with her hand, and whispered something into Dean's ear before catching Cas' eye and holding it for a moment. He watched Dean shift backwards and look over his shoulder. He winked.

Cas' whole face ignited and Hester scoffed.

"He winked at me," she breathed, scandalized, and Cas shook his head briefly trying to clear his thoughts, but his brain was too cloudy in the loud room with so many people.

"You're flushed red, Cas, are you too hot?" Hester asked, and Cas pushed her hand gently before she could start her worried touching.

"Yeah," he rasped, willing himself not to look at Dean again. "Yeah." He coughed, lightly into his hand.

"I think I'm going to go," he mumbled, and Hester put her arm back by her side, confused.

"Cas, really? It's only 11 o'clock."

"Oh, really?" He felt dazed, already trying to wade through the crowd, Hester following him.

"Cas, who's going to walk me home?" she called, trying to catch up with him, stopping at the door to the house, hand on the doorframe.

"Sorry Hester, I'm not feeling well," he muttered, and she sagged.

"Cas, you know, that's not fair. You said you'd walk me home! Something's all funny about this!"

"It's just stress!" He insisted, standing on the front walk, her suspicion of him too much of a worry to leave hanging. "Finals. Really, Hester. You know how hard I was working...I guess it just sort of hit me."

Hester stared at him for a long moment and seamed her lips together.

"Get some rest then," she said blandly after a moment and Cas smiled half–heartedly, glad to hear she was simply unimpressed with him and not accusing him of anything. "I'll tell Anna you left. I'll just stay here for the night."

"That's a good idea," Cas finished. He waited for her to go inside after a brief goodnight kiss on her cheek that had her blushing too hard for him to be comfortable, and then he started up the walk again. He paused for a moment, looking at the bike still parked on the lawn. He took a sharp breath, eyes roaming on the handles and the seat, and then began the long trek to his apartment off campus. He hated the commute, and his apartment wasn't so much an apartment as a hole in a leaking wall, but it was better than being at the mercy of the guys in the dorms. He'd had enough of being teased as a kid, and he wasn't about to make his ventures into adult life as bad as elementary school if he had anything to say about it.

Besides, he liked the privacy. No one to stare at him, to try and figure anything out. Just him and the endless studying he did to keep his dreams of being a doctor alive.

He shoved his hands in his pockets and tried to think of something other than Dean's eyes, or the sharp curve of his jaw, or the way his shoulders were set when he was at ease, or how he had never felt the bolt of lightning shooting down his spine the moment they looked at each other with any other human being in his entire life. It was living that Lou Christie song. All his life he'd heard about chemistry and he'd thought he'd had it once or twice, but it was obvious he was very, very, wrong.

Forget looking angry; Dean Winchester was positively predatory.

He walked down the sidewalk, the only light coming from the streetlights lining the road and the occasional car passing by, headlights streaking past and flashing in his face, blinding him for a moment before he was able to see again. The cool air of the night blew past and nipped at his skin, and he tugged his hands out of his pockets to pull his sleeves over his fingers, crossing his arms over his chest. He passed a couple of people on his way home, a small group of men and women making their toward the Delta house, toward the party back where Dean was, probably still talking to Lisa. It shouldn't bother him that much, and he tried to ignore the small sinking feeling he got when he thought about Dean speaking with Lisa, leaned against the wall and smiling down at her.

He breathed and walked toward his apartment, kicking at stone on the sidewalk, watching as it veered off and landed in the grass. He walked on, passing lamp post after lamp post, and after the small group of people, there was no one else in sight. It was lonely, and a little frightening, to be walking home by himself in the dark, but he could handle this. Plus, it wasn't too far to his place, and if he quickened his pace, he could make it there in no time.The streets were quiet and Castiel pulled his arms closer to his body, stopping for a brief moment to look behind him before he turned around to start walking again. Okay, so he was nervous, but you would be too if you had to walk home by yourself in the middle of the night. He laughed softly, shaking his head, and started to hum, attempting to keep himself busy and worry–free.

"Well shake it up, baby, now," he began to sing, but before he could any further, he was interrupted by the roar of an engine that nearly had him jumping out of his shoes. He stopped abruptly and turned on his heels, his eyes first meeting a wheel, and the further they traveled up, the more he recognized. It was a motorcycle, the color dark, but he also recognized who was on it. His eyes continued up, and he stopped when he reached the face, and even in the dull light of the street lamp he could see the green eyes of Dean Winchester.

"Need a ride?" he spoke loud enough to be heard over the engine, and Cas blinked, looking around him before looking back at Dean. "Yeah, you. You're the only one standing there."

Immediately, Cas could feel his face grow hot and he looked down at the ground, taking a step back. "No, no, that's okay."

"What?" Dean planted both feet on the ground and cut the engine, sitting low in the seat. "I couldn't hear you."

"I said, 'No, that's okay.' I can walk home on my own, thank you," Castiel turned and shoved his hands into his pockets, but he only made it a few steps until he stopped.

"Wait!" Dean shouted after him, and Cas turned around. "C'mon, it's pretty lonely out here, and walking home alone is a bummer."

He shouldn't trust this guy, because he only just saw him at the party and he'd never talked to him before, but there he was, offering him a ride on that fancy famous bike of his. Castiel shifted on his feet, worrying his bottom lip between his teeth before nodding and taking a step forward. And Dean grinned, the most wolfish thing that Castiel had ever seen in his life, and started up the engine of the motorcycle as Castiel threw his leg over the back and seated himself behind him.

"Hang on – !"

Tentatively, Castiel wrapped his arms around Dean's middle and held on as Dean revved the engine and kicked off, sending them flying down the street. Castiel remembered with horror that he had never been on a motorcycle before. He'd just gotten on – he hadn't thought much about it really, but he had never been on one before this moment.

He squeezed his arms tighter as they lurched forward, and it was obvious that Dean wasn't paying much attention to the speed limit.

"Relax!" he said over his shoulder as they crossed an intersection, still smiling a little, and Cas grimaced, swallowing as he let the tension in his shoulders go. He slid his hands back a little, hovering right by Dean's waist, just above the hem of his jacket. He felt Dean's sides jump as he laughed, probably at him, and he leaned into a turn, Cas trying his best not to freak out about how close it felt like they were to falling. Under his fright there was a hint of exhilaration