masterpiece: a teen!destiel au

The Boy

Castiel was sat at his desk at the back of the class, watching a boy seated a few rows in front of him intently. Currently, the boy was staring at the clock, probably wishing the lesson was over soon, like a majority of the students in the room with them. Castiel had his sketchbook out on his desk, an assortment of art supplies scattered next to it. He continued to stare at the boy, taking in the sharpness of his jawline and the soft curve of his lips. In his sketchbook, he had began to draw a rough sketch of the boy. Castiel didn't know what it was about him, but he was having quite a hard time trying to tear his eyes away from this boy; a boy, with whom, he had never even spoken. Hell, he didn't even know his name. But he stared, and he stared, adding more and more detail to his sketch, all the way up until the bell rang.

Castiel was so absorbed in his work that he didn't even hear it ring. It wasn't until he noticed the other students packing up their things that he stopped sketching. He stood back from the sketchbook to examine his finished work. There was something about it, something that wasn't right. It didn't quite capture the essence of the boy.

So Castiel closed the book, and packed up his things. As soon as he stepped into the hallway, he was engulfed in a sea of bodies, all unrecognizable in the rush of the passing period. All but one. The boy, several yards ahead of him, stood out in the swarm of students. His golden brown hair gleamed in the light that seeped through the small windows of the hallway. He wasn't any taller than anyone else, and to most people, there wasn't much that set him apart from the other students. To Castiel, however, there was a lot, and he picked out the boy easily. They seemed to be headed in the same direction, and Castiel could only hope that they had their next class together.

On his way to class, however, he was intercepted by Charlie, one of his friends. His best friend. As she was a computer whiz and digital art extraordinaire, they got along well. He could spot her running towards him, red hair flaming behind her as she went. "Cas!" She called. Cas was her nickname for him, claiming the first day they met that Castiel was too long and took too much energy to say.

"Charlie, hey," Castiel replied unenthusiastically, with a forced smile. One quick glance behind him said that he had lost the boy. Damnit.

"What class are you off to?" Charlie questioned. "I have Spanish with Señor Morales next."

"Same here," said Cas. Great, he thought. How am I supposed to sketch him if she's looking over my shoulder at all times? She'll be sure to torture me about it if she finds out. And... I haven't come out to her yet.

Not that that was a big deal or anything. Charlie wasn't straight, and that was the same with several other members of his friend group. Cas just hadn't been able to find an opportune time to do it.

"Cas? Caaaaasss!" Charlie said in a singsong voice. "Earth to Cas, come in Cas. Did you hear anything I just said?" Castiel had zoned out, and missed the past minute of Charlie's talking.

"Oh, sorry, Charlie," he said, snapping out of it. "I'm just a bit... distracted today is all."

The pair proceeded down to Spanish, where Cas was relieved to see the seating chart on the board. He was far away from Charlie, and he was in the back of the room. Better yet, he had a perfect view of the boy. He removed his sketchbook and art supplies from his bag and began to work, zoning out the teacher droning on and on about his plan for them this year.

When the bell rang this time, Castiel heard it. He got up and looked at his work, only to be unsatisfied with the outcome. Something was still off, something he couldn't quite place. He packed up his things and made a beeline for the door, only to be interrupted by a loud thud. Turning around, he saw that someone had dropped their things, and bent over to help pick things up.

He went to hand the owner of the things a notebook, only to lock eyes with the boy.

They both stood there dumbly, staring into each other's eyes. Castiel was taken aback by the color of the boy's eyes; the most wonderful mixture of blue and green and gray, rimmed with gold. Finally Cas realized that they were staring, and handed the boy his notebook. "Thanks," he mumbled.

And then Castiel made the best decision of his life.

"Hey, I've seen you in some of my classes, but I don't think I know your name. I'm Castiel, by the way."

"Yeah, I've seen you around. The name's Dean."

A small smile spread on Castiel's face as he bent down to pick up the rest of the boy's—Dean's—things. He gave Dean a small and awkward wave, and then headed out the door.

Cas let out the breath he didn't know he had been holding. Wow.

Now that he had seen Dean up close, he could say that he was even more mesmerizing than before. Everything about him, from the way the light hit his eyes, highlighting the different hues, to the velvety-ness of his voice, was perfect.

The rest of the day, Castiel pictured the boy, and continued to sketch, getting something wrong every time. He vowed that, by the end of the year, he would get it right.