A.N. - Written for the February SPN Writing Challenge. This was a blast to write!

Secret Admirer

Spiked, dark dirty blonde hair appeared at Charlie's knees as her best friend, Dean Winchester, picked up his spilled books from the hallway floor, who arched an eyebrow at the smirking redhead.

"What? You're not going to help?" he asked, snagging the last of his books.

She shook her head, grinning unrepentantly as she said, "Nah. It'd be a shame to ruin the view of your ass from the new kid."

Dean stared at her in shock and then turned bright red as he stood back up, furtively glancing around himself for a head of familiar black hair, shoving his books haphazardly into his open locker, which seemed more crowded than it usually was. A quick glance told Charlie that some of them were for classes that he didn't even take. Advanced Lit? AP English?

"Uh, Dean…what's up with your locker?"

The slightly nerdy jock groaned and said, "Sammy's sharing my locker with me, right now. His hallway is being renovated, remember?"

The redhead then remembered the plastic sheeting that she'd passed by on her way to English and she nodded, saying, "Oh. Right. Of course I remember that." She paused, and then added, "So, do you have any plans for this weekend? Valentine's day and all? Maybe, like, I don't know…asking Novak out?"

He heard her pointed tone and rolled his eyes.

"His name's Castiel, and no; I was not planning on being a freakin' cliché and asking him out on Valentine's Day weekend. Besides," he added, looking entirely jealous, "He's got Hannah."

Charlie rolled her eyes this time, and leaned her head back against the door of the locker next to Dean's, which belonged to her girlfriend, Mab, and said, "When are you going to believe me when I tell you that they're not together?"

"Oh, I don't know, maybe when she stops hanging on him like a parasite at every opportunity? He doesn't seem to be complaining," he added under his breath, shoving one more book into the already overstuffed locker.

Charlie groaned and turned her head towards him, saying, "She likes him, sure, but he doesn't like her in the same way. He sees her as a friend, Dean. And, hell, I'm pretty sure he doesn't even bat for that team, if you know what I mean…"

"I always know what you mean."

She grinned and adjusted her backpack on her shoulder, which was disguised as a TARDIS, and covered in LGBT pins, along with a large "Gandalf Is My Spirit Guide" pin and a "Hogwarts Alumni" patch right in the middle of the whole thing. Dean smiled at her half-heartedly, wanting to believe her, but not having the heart to get his hopes up. Novak was too cool for him anyway, and everyone knew it.

He started to close his locker, but Charlie reached across and snagged a white piece of paper that was caught on the inside vents, and said, "Now, what's this?" Dean reached across to try and snag it from her, but she shook her head and read out loud, "Please meet me at the public library on Friday after school. I will be holding a book of Dylan Thomas poems and wearing a Metallica shirt. Sincerely, Your Secret Admirer." She glanced back up at Dean and gave him a broad smile. "So, it looks like you've got a Secret Admirer, Dean…and just in time, too…"

Dean brushed it off, not taking it seriously, certain that it was meant for Sammy.

"It's not for me, Charlie," he insisted, rolling his eyes. "No one's interested in me. Hell, I don't even make an impression on most people," he added, looking towards the ground, adjusting his backpack on his shoulder.

Charlie stared at him, disappointed in the way that her best friend viewed himself. Dean, when you took a good long look at him, was actually very attractive, almost pretty with those eyes and lips of his, but he didn't care as much about his appearance as his finicky younger brother, Sam. He was smart and prodigy-level amazing in math and his auto shop class, but struggled in history and English, which was where the redhead came in. He wasn't a straight A student, but he was certainly better than average.

Besides, Charlie knew more than a few friends, of the female and male persuasion, who had tried to get her to set them up with Dean, but she knew that he was too far gone on Castiel Novak to ever even consider any of them seriously.

Shaking her head, she said, "Dean, really? It's for you. I mean, Dylan Thomas? Metallica? Favorite poet and band, right there! I mean, Sam doesn't exactly have the same taste as you, you know…"

Dean paused and thought about it for a second and then tilted his head in acknowledgement of her words.

"Okay, maybe you have a point…"

Charlie gave him another look, her eyebrows lost in her hairline at her skepticism.

"Dean, just go! It's not like you have any other plans this weekend, anyway…besides," she added, giving him a friendly smile, "If it doesn't work out, you can crash with me and Mab at my place. We're having a Star Wars marathon this weekend, anyway, and you know that we always have room for you."

Dean glanced down at the ground and then back at her.

"Thanks, Charlie. But, uh…rain check on Star Wars, right now, okay?"

Immediately understanding from his words that he was agreeing to check it out, she flashed him a broad, toothy grin, and then turned and practically pranced down the hallway, obviously more than pleased that he'd given in to her and was going to meet his admirer that weekend.

However, he still didn't think that it was a good idea…but he was going to do it anyway, even if it meant making a total ass of himself. He had an uneasy feeling that he was being set up by someone in the popular circle of kids to be the butt of some sort of cruel joke. It had happened before, after all. It had involved Anna Angeles and Ferguson "Fergus" Crowley, both of whom had decided that it would amusing to see him set up on a blind date with the main stoner of the school, Gadreel Armstead. Not the best memory.

Letting out a frustrated sigh, he made his way towards the garage on school grounds, where he took Auto Shop. Pretty much the only class that he looked forward to.

Tomorrow after school he'd find out if it was another set up, or an actual date.

Tugging on his leather coat, Dean drove to the library…and tried not to seem too disappointed when he saw no one standing out front matching the description that his anonymous admirer had left him. He didn't even know if it was a guy or a girl. Everyone at school knew he swung both ways; it was one of the various reasons why he was typically shunned. Charlie being the vibrant exception.

He parked the Impala and then leaned against his car and waited just out of sight, keeping an eye on the front steps, wondering when, or even if, his secret admirer would show up.

After about ten minutes, he was ready to give up, but then he saw a familiar head of black hair run up the steps, his black Metallica t-shirt looking horribly wrinkled. A spine-cracked paperback of Dylan Thomas poetry was grasped tightly in his right hand as he looked around frantically, obviously looking for Dean…and Dean couldn't believe it.

It was Castiel fucking Novak.

He laughed to himself, silently thrilled that he'd dodged the bullet. It was obvious that he'd been set up, once more, by Anna and Fergus, both of whom ran in the same circles as Castiel.

However, just as he was about to pull open his driver's door and leave, he saw the boy's face. He looked truly distraught. He was looking around, pacing nervously, and kept on running his free hand through his already unkempt hair, as though he was truly worried. Dean watched for a moment longer…and his hand dropped from the handle as soon as he saw the usually smiling, effervescent Castiel Novak, drop his shoulders and, looking entirely defeated, slumped down onto the steps, dropping the book between his knees, his head falling into his hands.

Dammit.

Softly cursing under his breath, Dean strode up the steps and said, "Hey, sorry I'm late. Had to drop off Sammy at Chess club. Dork doesn't have much of a life without me, you know…"

Castiel's head snapped up at the sound of his voice and Dean tried not to laugh at the look of sheer surprise on the young man's face.

"Dean," he said, his voice low and raspy. "You came..."

Dean shrugged, trying to pass it off as not being a big deal, even though his heart was doing a samba and his stomach was doing backflips at the realization that Castiel Novak, his very own crush, was the one who had left the note in his locker.

"Yeah, well…not like I had any other plans this weekend."

Castiel stared up at him, smiling in a way that Dean had never seen before, and then he snagged the book back up and hastily got to his feet, saying, "I…I only hoped that you might show. I thought…I thought that if you knew it was me to begin with, you wouldn't. I mean," he added, looking slightly embarrassed, "After what Anna and Ferguson did to you, I figured you might not take me seriously. I never agreed with what they did, by the way. It was a low blow and completely uncalled for."

Dean just grinned, and shook his head, brushing it off.

"Nah, no harm, no foul. Besides, Gadreel's not that bad. Mellow, for sure."

Castiel chuckled at that, rubbing the back of his neck, and then looked up at him almost shyly, and asked, "So…you're not upset that it's me?"

Dean gave him a look of pure incredulity and then broke into a loud, uninhibited laugh, his whole body shaking, and bent over at the waist. He then slightly turned and shoved his hands in his pockets, saying, "Dude, I'm really not. Uh, actually," he added, mimicking Castiel, rubbing the back of his neck, "I couldn't be more thrilled."

"Really?"

Dean nodded. Time to come clean.

"Uhm, yeah. The thing is I've kinda had a thing for you since you moved here last semester. I mean," he quickly interjected, trying to clarify, "I figured nothing would happen because you're…and I'm…"

He waved a hand between them, silently indicating their different statuses on the high school totem pole, and Cas nodded.

"Yes, I understand. I surround myself with self-centered idiots who think that I'm one of them, and you…well, you are so much better than that. You're accepting of pretty much everyone, even someone like Gadreel. The fact that you're still standing here in front of me kind of baffles me, to be honest." He paused, and then shrugged his shoulders and added, "I mean, when I told Charlie I wanted to ask you out a few months ago, she said to just go for it, but I guess I didn't want to risk it, and now here you are, telling me that you've liked me for nearly as long as I've liked you, so when I got your note…"

Dean looked at Castiel in shock and then said, "My note…hold up, wait a second, did you say Charlie? You talked to Charlie?"

"Yes, why?"

Dean let out an amused sigh, and smirked.

"Because she's known about my crush on you since the beginning…and, apparently, she knew about your crush on me. And from our conversation, I thought it was pretty clear I came here because of the note that you left me in my locker."

Cas shook his head.

"I never left a note. I received a note in my locker yesterday that said to wear a Metallica t-shirt and to bring my book of Dylan Thomas poetry with me…from the request, I figured it was you, so I showed up, but I was afraid that you might have meant to put it in Jo Harvelle's locker, right next to mine. I thought that once you saw it was me, you would leave, but when you stayed…you mean…you didn't…?"

Dean nodded.

"Looks like we've been set up, Cas," he drawled, raising an eyebrow in his direction, and then added, "Not that I'm complaining…"

Castiel blushed and ducked his head, but Dean grabbed his hand and pulled him in and said, "So, let's not waste the evening. Wanna get some burgers? Maybe a movie?"

Castiel nodded and replied, "Yes, I am very amenable to that idea," his wide, gummy smile showing what his even tone did not, and Dean grinned like an idiot. Seizing the opportunity, he leaned in and planted one right on Castiel's lips, noting just how soft and perfectly pliant they were under his.

He pulled back and smiled at the stunned look on Castiel's face.

"Just wanted to get that out of the way first, Cas…"

And then Dean tugged on his hand and dragged the blue-eyed, manically grinning boy to his Impala, silently reminding himself that he was going to have to strangle Charlie for not telling him sooner that his crush had been crushing on him, as well…right after which, he would kiss her platonically senseless for being the greatest friend in the world.

Looks like it was gonna be a pretty damn good weekend.

Happy Valentine's Day to him.

THE END