Year 8: But I Can Ask You, Can't I?

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Castiel stared out the school window, his mind on little things. Dean had moved back into his old house, along with Sam. Their uncle was the one who occupied it, now. It was still a beautiful house. It looked the same as the one that Cas ran into to save his friend a year and a half ago. Castiel's scars were still apparent, but it didn't effect him much anymore. He was proud of it. Battle scars he'd call them. Castiel actually looked down at the right side of his body and considered himself blessed. He didn't die that day. Dean didn't die that day. Sam didn't die that day, and Castiel felt more than pleasure that that was his doing.

But now Castiel has another problem.

Middle school drama.

Yeah, all that jazz. New teenagers waiting to flaunt their newfound independence. They showcase their new possessions like they are accomplishments.

Those aren't accomplishments.

Accomplishments are like getting an A+ that you studied so hard for. An accomplishment is graduating high school. Accomplishments are something that give other people reason to feel prideful about you. People see you, and are proud of you. They aren't jealous.

And then, there's the whole cliché middle school complication: dating. Crushes form and your emotions play a game of war. You can't decide whether to curl up in a ball and cry or just talk to them like they were your best friend.

Oh, and how Could Castiel forget the main problem?

Castiel is mid-questioning his sexuality.

Because he thinks he's falling for his best friend.

Yes, Castiel is hardcore crushing. On Dean of all people.

It all started at the seventh grade student council car wash. Yes, seventh graders in Lawrence held car washes. It was actually quite fun considering it was 80 degrees and Castiel was squirting a Super Soaker at a car. (And let's be honest, himself. It was hot.)

"Castiel, rinse it!" A kid, the student council Vice President, actually, yelped to the boy. That kid's name was Alfie. Alfie was quite a bookworm, like Cas, which is why he landed the second most powerful position in StuCo, and Cas got the first.

Castiel aimed it at the blue '67 Chevy Impala and squirted the crap out of that car. He was laughing hysterically. The boy was just so happy. It just made him feel like there was hope in the world. How many people can get paid for squirting a water gun at a car?

That's when Cas saw him.

And his head decided to murder itself with mixed up information.

Dean walked in front of the car, holding his hand up, trying not to get wet. He, too had a cute little smile on his face.

And holy frick frack diddly dack patty whack he was in a thin gray tank top.

Soaking. Wet.

"Cas! Cease fire?" He cocked an eyebrow up at the boy, grinning as he pulled up his jeans. Dean slowly stepped towards Cas, stomach heaving with laughter as he ran a hand through his messed up hair. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel, pulling at the hoodie that Cas was wearing. "Dude, it's like 90 out here. Why are you wearing this?"

"To protect me from your rotting wetness." Castiel gave Dean a little flick on the forehead. "C'mon Dean. It'll turn into a pity party."

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