It's In Your Eyes

Cas.

Dean's POV -

"... Our boudoir." I say as a joke, laughing. But I realise how it sounded once it was out my mouth. Stupid, embarrassing, and a little creepy... "Or, erm, our bedroom... I'm not good at languages." Castiel smiles, a gentle, silent laugh that shows these dimples in his cheeks and I relax.

My neck starts to heat up so I duck into the empty dorm room. We're the first to be placed here, and it's one of the smaller dormitories. Only seven

beds, four up one wall, three up the other. A big, almost floor-to-ceiling window at the bottom that looks out on the gardens, because it faces west it will give a perfect view of the sunset in a few hours...

I clear my throat again at the thought of watching one with Castiel one time... Today... And start off down the centre isle of the room, looking for the bed with my name on it, with my bedding on it. A perk at this school. Send your preferred bedding ahead, a week before school starts, and they put it on your bed ready for your arrival. Makes it an easier transition for most.

There it is, my bed, on the very end of the row of four beds, sporting my Walmart's finest plain, black sheets, duvet and pillow covers that Sam helped me decorate with stitched on patches. They had been drawn on to beautifully depict my favourite album covers. I don't say it enough, he's a gifted artist... In truth I just supplied moral support and pizza as he worked.

I glance to my side and see Castiel's name printed on the sticker at the foot of the bed next to me. I almost let out a cry of pity when I see them, the dull, worn and impersonal bed clothes of the school default stock.

"Castiel, where's your bedding?"

Castiel's POV -

I look around the room, around at the beds to every side of me, taking in the colourful, special duvet covers on each, then down at mine as I stand next to Dean. Why do I have to stand out here as well? Why do I feel suddenly even worse about being here, about surviving here, about not having my own sheets even? Why?

"I- My parents forgot to pack mine in with Anna and Gabe's when they sent them out. When I saw mine had been left in their pile on the table I told them and they shrugged. They said they didn't want to waste money sending more out so I would be fine making do with what I was given..." My voice trails off, till I'm just moving my lips at the end. And then he's there, so close my breath hitches in my throat, as he slips his arm around me, around my shoulders. He gives me a gentle squeeze then drops his arm. But he hasn't moved an inch away yet, his arm still warm against mine. My knuckles brush against his and I blush.

"I'm so sorry, that sounds very unfair of them." Dean seems to be trying to empathise with me but he cannot understand the extent... What it's like there... Maybe this will be good, this school, after all...

If I wasn't so goddamn terrified, shy.

We unpack, me silent, him humming along to the music I can hear blasting out of the headphone that dangles against his chest, next to the interesting, ornate gold Buddha-head-like pendant he is wearing.

"Are you humming metallica?" I ask, smirking a little. He looks up at me, a little relieved I've not gone dumb, a bit amused.

"It calms me." He says plaintively, then cracks up again. I join him laughing, feeling oddly good, oddly calm. Happy I have a friend... "Believe it or not, but I'm on edge constantly here. People can be false, can be mean and can just get tiresome after a year..."

"Not filling me with confidence here, Dean." I offer, giving a mock, wide eyed stare of 'fear', then dip my head as I continue to pack away my things in my little chest of draws.

"Not trying to. You should be on the alert... Just know, I've got your back." He says it with no special meaning, but I take in every syllable of what he says, beaming to myself because-

Because someone actually gives a shit about me that isn't a sibling. Someone actually wanted to know me, is getting to know me... May actually, at some point, get to really know me. As a good, a very good, friend.

"Hurry up, man! We wanna get our work stuff sorted out before dinner, and I'm starved!" He leans in to help me push away my last few things, I blush when he scoops away a pair of boxers into a draw without a second glance, and walks out the door. In the corridor now, his voice oddly weak, strangled a little, he calls back to me. "Get a move on, Cas! We gotta go!"

Cas?

Cas.

He called me Cas.

That's a first, no one has ever called me anything other than Castiel, except my siblings who adopted Cassy for me...

Cas... I like it. It's short. Like-

Dean.