So, this is an AU based on the Bowling for Soup song...that I wrote a while ago, and never got round to posting.

"No."

"But it'll be..."

"No."

"C'mon Dean..."

"No."

Sam thunks his head against the top of the car, and scuffs one foot against Dean's leg, which is protruding from under the impala in oil stained denim.

"It's just for a couple of hours, I promised Jess I'd get you to go."

"And your promises to your ex mean what to me?" Comes Dean's muffled voice.

"Well, she'd planning the reunion, and since that whole, thing in senior year, with the bus crash, or graduating class is kinda small."

"Ten years and that crash is still ruining my life." Dean sighs. It had been a minor accident, but sixteen of their fellow students had been injured enough to miss a bunch of school, and had consequently graduated a year after them. Not many of them were keen to go to the ten year reunion of a class they hadn't actually been in for most of that year.

Dean sighs and glares at the underside of his car.

"What am I even going to do there?"

"Meet up with your old frie-"

Dean laughs.

Sam leans against the car and huffs. "Just come, OK? Even if..."

"Even if my friends would probably take me out to the parking lot and beat the crap out of me?"

Sam studies his shoes. "It's been ten years Dean. You changed...maybe they have too?"

Dean doesn't answer, and Sam doesn't push it, because it's a hopeless fantasy, and he knows it. But, Dean doesn't say 'no' again. So Sam counts it as a win.

(-*-)

"No fucking way."

Gabriel thunks his head against the top of the car, at least, he would if he was tall enough, as it is he settles for thunking it on the window before climbing onto the bonnet and taking out a candy bar.

Castiel shoots him a dirty look. "Gabriel, that's not my car."

Gabriel shrugs. "Cm schto fa nuooonun."

Castiel glares at him.

Gabriel swallows a mouthful of candy. "Come to the reunion. You loved highschool."

Castiel rolls his eyes. "No, that was you. I hated high school."

"Oh yeah...all the more reason to go back, show them how they made no impact on you at all – with their bullying, and their relentless cruelty..." Gabriel pauses to eye his brother's heavily pierced ear, black tank top and complete sleeve tattoo of thorns and roses. "On second thoughts maybe we should stay home...rent Steel Magnolias."

"Why do you even want to go?"

Gabriel shrugs. "Funzies."

"So there's a possibility that you might get laid?"

"There may be a former freshman I have my eye on."

"Who?"

"Little Sammy Winchester."

Castiel thinks for a second, which is not easy, given the number of Screaming Orgasms he's had to drink. "You mean...that little kid with the brown hair and the 'geology rocks' backpack?"

"Yup."

"He was junior high age Gabriel."

"Yeah, but they skipped him ahead."

"He's still...like, bunches younger than us." Castiel points out, he's way too drunk for math right now, a while ago he was only too drunk for Portuguese. Soon he's planning on being too drunk for English, and special awareness.

"You're gross." He sighs.

"What about you and his older brother...what was his name...Dante?"

"Dean." Castiel hugs himself, the parking lot of the bar suddenly feeling too cold to be real.

"Didn't he pick on you?" Gabriel asks, suddenly serious.

Castiel nods.

Gabriel throws his arms open. "So, that settles it. We're going – and we're going to show Dean Neanderthal Winchester, that no one messes with the Novaks – and that you turned out great – even after all the bullying, hazing, pranking..."

"Heartless violence." Castiel puts in.

"We're going to make him rue the day he and his fucking football buddies broke your nose...and I may also fuck his brother...depending on how we're doing for time."

Castiel leans against the car and looks up at the sky. Sometimes he really wishes he'd had a different life, one he could look back on without feeling a knife twist in his heart. A life that had made him into a normal human being, instead of a suspicious, antisocial weirdo with issues in his issues.

But, this is his life, he's lived it, and he's going to keep living it.

Why not show them what the last ten years have made of him? Why not see if he's still afraid after all this time?

"I'm in." He says.

"Great!" Gabriel exclaims. "Now, let's go mess with that convertible over there."

Castiel sighs.

"Hey, they left the roof down, they need to be taught a lesson." Gabriel shrugs.

Castiel rolls his eyes, but helps Gabriel to fill buckets of sand from the nearby beach, filling the car to the brim and arranging a towel and parasol tastefully on the top.

If he can do this, he can handle the reunion.

(-*-)

"Explain to me again why the hell I'm here."

"To show that you're the bigger man."

"You're taller than me." Dean hisses, looking over at where Adam, Baldur and Michael are gathered around the punch bowl, laughing and wearing sport coats and eating chips. Slapping each other's shoulders and being so fucking manly that Dean's surprised they haven't busted out some raw meat and hammers.

"Figuratively." Sam says, offering him a paper cup of warm beer.

"This whole thing sucks."

"Well, yeah, it's a high school reunion." Sam points out. "But, you know, you came, you saw, you conquered."

"Yay for me." Dean mutters, as Baldur spots him and waves him over. The three guys across the room used to be his best friends. They'd played football together, eaten take out on the hood of each other's rust bucket cars, watched the girls go by and pranked their less fortunate class mates.

Kinda sucked that Dean was going to have to go over there and ruin the whole thing by telling them he was a mechanics assistant, unmarried, childless and oh yeah – gay as fuck.

He downs the rest of his beer and heads over, determined to confront them and their shit head on.

But somehow his feet swerve him towards the restroom.

Oh, so he's hiding.

Well, that's good too.

(-*-)

Castiel is locked in a toilet cubicle, waiting for everyone else to go home.

Just like the last time he was in high school.

The only difference is, he's drinking whisky miniatures and chain smoking, rather than doing his calc homework.

The door outside thuds open, and Castiel rolls his eyes, not a moments peace. Still, at least Gabriel had stopped by to bring him some finger sandwiches. He watches a pair of boots stomp across the tile. Not Gabriel. He waits for whoever it is to piss and get the fuck out, but instead they stop by the bank of sinks, thump their hands down, and mutter 'fuck'.

Another happy high school leaver. Castiel wonders who it is, maybe Ash, who used to help him with his computer, or maybe Andy, who he'd never really spoken to, but who had seemed friendly just because he didn't constantly pick on him.

Castiel drops an empty bottle onto the floor.

The boots turn around.

"Who's in there?"

"No one here but us chickens." Castiel says smartly, downing another whisky. "And we're all pretty fucked up."

The boots come over and a hand picks up the bottle.

"Got any more?"

"That's really for me to know..."

"Dude, please, for the love of crap, let me get wasted."

Who is Castiel to refuse such a plea? He clicks open the door and holds up a tiny bottle, only to be greeted by the sight of Dean Winchester. Teen tormentor extraordinaire. He kicks the door shut again.

"Store's closed, I'm sorry."

"Dude, what the hell?"

"I'm not your 'dude'." Castiel mutters.

"No shit. Who are you? Are you even supposed to be here?"

"I was in this class. But no, I'm not supposed to be here. If I had any sense I wouldn't be."

Castiel twiddles another bottle, feeling bad about himself.

"So who are you?"

"You're Dean Winchester."

"Not what I asked."

"Yeah, but it means you don't care who I am – you're the big man on campus, remember?"

Dean sighs. "That was a long time ago. I'm sorry I was a jerk ok? Whoever you are."

"Castiel Novak."

"Uhhh..."

"You broke my nose."

"...fuck! I'm...shit, I'm sorry man. I was an idiot back then."

"You called me a cocksucker...and then you broke my nose."

"I know, I'm sorry."

"I didn't ask to be your lab partner." Now that Castiel has started he finds that he can't stop. "I didn't want any trouble, I didn't want to stick out...but they put us together, and all your friends were talking...ss-shit about me and you..." Fucking stutter, why now? "How I was a fag, and since we were getting on so well...and then you broke my fucking nose!"

Dean is silent for so long that Castiel thinks he's gone away.

"I'm sorry." Dean says finally, in a small voice. "Look...I'm...I was a terrible kid, and I should not have taken all my crap out on you...I wish I'd had the balls to admit it to myself back then, that I was gay... just so I could've knocked that homophobic crap on the head."

Castiel opens the door.

"You're gay?"

"Pretty fucking gay." Dean nods. "And...it doesn't excuse what I did but...high school was a little shitty for me too, back then."

"I guess it's all over now anyway."

"You look different." Dean says.

"I don't feel different." Castiel admits, he's changed everything he possible can about himself, and it's still not enough. Under all the drinking and the sex and the weird and wonderful behaviour...he's still just seventeen and terrified out of his mind, knowing that the top dogs of his high school wanted him to suffer, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.

"I like the tattoo."

"It doesn't mean anything." Castiel shrugs.

"I'm really sorry." Dean says again.

Castiel opens his mouth, and the old him is just begging to come out and run away from this situation. But the hard won strength in him holds him still.

"Want to make it up to me?"

(-*-)

Sam is getting punch when some short guy grabs his ass. He jumps, slopping sticky red drink up his arm and onto the floor.

"Hey!"

"Hey yourself," The guy says, handing him a napkin. "You shot up like a freaking redwood didn't you."

Sam slumps his shoulders out of habit, he'd gotten picked on as an early addition to high school for being small and afflicted with baby fat. Then he'd gotten teased through his senior year for being gangly and big footed.

He still can't place the guy who's smirking at him.

"I'm sorry, you are?"

"Hurt. How could you not remember me? I remember you - with your adorabangs and your fossil collection...not to mention your cute little ass."

Sam's eye widen. "Oh my God it's you."

Gabriel grins. "Hey there Sammy."

Gabriel has changed a lot since high school. Sure, he hasn't gotten any taller, but his former short scrub brush of hair has grown out into a more flattering sweep, and his face has sharpened up. He barely looks like the guy who'd perved on him from the moment he joined the high school at age fifteen.

"So...uh..." Sam says, unsure as to how to continue a conversation with someone who'd taken pictures of him playing soccer and relentlessly teased, flattered and followed him until he'd graduated. Ok, Gabriel hadn't been that far over seventeen, but it had still been weird.

"Yeah, so...it's been a while. I'm still hot, you're still sen-sational...how about we take a trip to the men's room and do this old school?"

And ok, so Gabriel used to creep him out a little, and Sam's completely speechless and...he's in front of most of his graduating class...

But just because Gabriel was kind of his stalker, didn't mean he hadn't occasionally barricaded Dean out their room and jerked off to pictures of Gabriel starring in Peter Pan.

To this day, Sam couldn't see green tights without blushing.

So he just nods, and lets Gabriel drag him off to the restroom.

(-*-)

If someone had told him, aged seventeen and hopped up on testosterone, denial and male bonding through contact sports, that one day he'd been kneeling on a dirty bathroom floor with Castiel (homo-chess club-honour roll-geek) Novak's dick down his throat, Dean would probably have murdered them.

But now? With his own spit on his chin, the tang of pre-come (and faintly sweaty skin) on his tongue, and his own cock pinned against his thigh, throbbing desperately. He wants to tell his younger self to get the fuck over it – because dick is awesome.

And Castiel is kind of awesome too.

Dean-back-then, had not appreciated how hot Castiel was, how much potential he had to become this – a gorgeous guy, completely comfortable with himself, and what he was doing.

Long, slender fingers twist in Dean's hair, and he moans, taking more of Castiel into his mouth.

"Uh..." Castiel grips the top of the cubicle partition with one hand, tipping his head down to look at Dean. "Feels so good."

Dean makes a kind of whimpery noise that he's almost ashamed of, but he's too happy to feel Castiel shaking to care much.

Castiel's hips start to jerk, and Dean sucks harder, stroking with his tongue, rolling Cas's balls in one hand.

"After...after this?" Castiel pants, "I want...I want you to fuck me."

Dean scrapes just the hint of his teeth against the root of Castiel's dick and the smaller man cries out. ""Uh, yeah...please just...fuck, I want you, inside of me...I want..."

A hand brushes Castiel's on the partition, and, clear as day, he hears someone groan. "Fuck yes Sammy, just like that..."

Dean pulls away from him, and Castiel whimpers as cold air hits his dick. He'd been so close. Stupid Gabriel and his stupid libido.

"Sam?" croaks Dean.

"Dean!" yelps the partition wall.

"Hey Dean!" says Gabriel, "Sam, seriously, don't stop, that was amazing."

Dean looks up at Castiel then back at the wall. "Should we stop?" he asks no one in particular.

"No." Both Novaks say in unison.

Castiel pulls Dean back to his dick, and Gabriel hisses on the other side of the wall as Sam presumably gets back to work.

"This..." Gabriel pants, "Beats every, wet dream, I had...as a kid..."

And Castiel comes, grabbing the back of Dean's head and pushing into his mouth as far as he can get. Dean sucks him down, feeling his cock jerk in his underwear. He is so going to fuck Castiel into the floor.

He pulls away and lets Castiel lean over him, panting and shaking.

"Sammy? Got any condoms?"

A small shower of foil packets fly over the wall.

"My blessings on you both." Pants Gabriel, "Now, fuck off."

"Gladly." Castiel sighs, pulling Dean to his feet. "Back seat ok?"

"Classy."

Castiel looks at him with deadly seriousness. "I'm a classy guy."

They leave the bathroom, (and Sam and Gabriel – repress repress repress) and go back into the main hall. Dean's almost forgotten why he didn't want to come to this stupid thing, when Michael and the others appear right in front of him.

"Hey Dean." Says Michael, sounding about as unpleasant as a slug in a meat grinder. "Whatcha doing?"

"Going outside for some fresh air." Dean says.

"And some hot ass." Says Castiel, casually and, unhelpfully.

Michael's eyes nearly bug out, Baldur actually laughs, and Adam looks kind of...green. "You a fag now?" Michael says, "You always seemed so normal."

"Yeah well..." Dean feels lightheaded and care free, possibly because he's about to have sex. "you always seemed like a massive dirtbag, and...that hasn't changed. Lucky you."

"What the fuck is that on your face?" Adam says.

Dean has no idea, but reaches up to run a hand over his cheek. It comes away wet, a drop of well...come, smeared on his fingers.

"You couldn't have told me that?" he says to Castiel.

"You looked pretty." Castiel informs him, he addresses the three guys still standing in front of them. "We're going to fuck now, so, unless you want to watch – you can just beat it." He frowns, "whilst probably thinking about eachother."

They leave the guys behind them, speechless, and practically race each other to Dean's car.

Ok, so by their twentieth reunion they'll be married, and Cas'll be a respectable accountant with a stay at home hubby and a four year old boy (Ryan - whose very existence makes his own memories of childhood so much easier to bear) -but for now – that can still act like teenagers, out of control and ready to let loose.

(That doesn't really change either...it's also kind of what babysitters were invented for).

And it's not like Uncles Sam and Gabriel ever grow up either.