Author's note- This is an AU prompt I found on Tumblr a little while ago.
AU prompt: Person A is thinking sexually graphic or generally odd thoughts and suddenly panics and thinks "If you're a mind reader, cough right now." Person B coughs.
It's a high school, human AU, kind of Destiel thing. I mean, I guess it's kind of obvious that Castiel likes Dean, maybe? Kind of? I hope so. Instead of the sexually graphic thoughts, I did the generally odd thoughts. Sorry if Castiel and Dean are OOC.
Castiel's thoughts are in italics, Castiel thinking is the only form of speech in this little fic anyways. But it's his thoughts, just in case it's confusing.
WARNING FOR BAD USE OF LANGUAGE.
Disclaimer- I do not own Supernatural or any of the characters, nor am I making any money off of this.
Castiel was pretty much the definition of 'that weird loner in the back', socially awkward and his head almost always buried in a book, no one paid him much attention accept for when they needed to copy his homework, or when his two left feet got the better of him and he trips in front of everyone giving them something to laugh at while he picks himself up off the ground without help from anybody.
It was during Castiel's timetabled art lesson when it happened. Any form of art wasn't that hard in Castiel's opinion, but that was probably only because he liked the subject. They were studying portraits at the moment and Castiel sighed, slumping down inside his over sized trench coat. Having just accidentally put his thumb into a blob of forest green paint instead of his paint brush, Castiel idly wiped his thumb with a rag and let his mind wonder as his canvas dried.
Castiel sat at his easel at the back of the class and started thinking about what book he should read next, he made a list in his head and decided his top choices were either dead languages, anatomy of bees, ancient demon summoning, knitting patterns, or the next Harry Potter.
"I haven't studied Sanskrit yet, could be interesting," Castiel thought quietly to himself.
"44 letters in the alphabet? 45? 46?" A small frown painted Castiel's face.
"Well that's decided then. I wonder if the library will have anything on it," there was a pauses in his thoughts as Castiel sub consciously mixed paint together to make a brown.
"Probably not," sighing inwardly, Castiel made a mental note to drive to the library in the next town over.
"Their archive is useful, they did have a lot on Latin. Remember to print something off one of the computers for your report on healthy eating. Healthy eating, what a boring subject. I should talk about how salad is rabbit food and how a burger is much more satisfying," there was a noise from the boy sitting next to Castiel which oddly sounded like a snort of laughter.
Castiel squinted his eyes and glared at his portrait, "what the hell could be so funny," thought Castiel bitterly.
"Stupid Dean Winchester, always laughing at something." Turning his head sightly, Castiel looked through his eye lashes over to the green-eyed boy sitting next to him. Dean was facing forwards, right hand raised and holding a fine paint brush with a blob of black paint on the tip. Castiel couldn't see what Dean was painting, but he suspected it would probably be a naked girl. The corner of Dean's mouth twitched and Castiel looked away.
"He's wearing the same jeans as yesterday, surely a hole that big in the knees warrants for a new pair." Castiel dipped his paint brush into his brown and raised his hand back up to his canvas,
"Perhaps the anatomy of bees would be better than Sanskrit," his thoughts drifted back to books.
"The language will still be dead tomorrow, but the bees however, after rabbit food I could plot flight patterns and mating cycles." Washing his brush in a dirty jar of water, Castiel mixed black into the remainder of his brown and started painting again, running the anatomy of a standard worker bee through his head as he worked.
"Brain, salivary gland, pharynx, glossa, nerve ganglia, aorta, air sacs, honey stomach, stomach, stinger, poison sac, rectum, chambers of dorsal vessel, wings. Wings." Sighing, Castiel put down his paint brush and ran his fingers through his hair, messing up his attempt of flattening it. Rolling his shoulders, Castiel imagined a set of wings large enough to carry his body weight so he could fly away from this place.
"I wonder what color my wings would be, probably black like my hair- carpets match the drapes," Castiel thought and laughed through his nose. Beside him Dean almost choked on his saliva but Castiel didn't notice.
"Small intestine and the respirator muscle." Mentally patting himself on the back, Castiel straightened in his seat and picked up his brush again.
"Anatomy of bees, easy. Portrait's almost finished, left eyes bigger than the right, I could fix it, or leave it. Fix it or leave it? Fix it or leave it?" Tilting his head to the side, Castiel stared at his portrait
"Just stop looking at it and it will be fine. Go wash your paint tray, class is almost over." Making a move to stand, Castiel trod on the belt of his trench coat and tripped over the straining piece of material.
Castiel knocked his easel and his jar of dirty water knocked over and water sloshed all over the floor before and after the jar smashed on the ground. "Fucken shit, god damn it, happens every god damn fucking time, get ready for the fucking laughing. Just ignore it Castiel, fucken watch where you are fucking going to put your fat feet next time. Great, the fucken teachers looking, don't say anything, just nod, you fucking know what to do. This isn't the first fucking time you've made a fucking mess." Castiel shuttered as the anger towards himself made his pulse thud loudly in his ears and took a deep breath through his mouth and then exhaled slowly and loudly back out through his nose.
As Castiel stood up he winced at his use of vocabulary and silently prayed that God wasn't listening to his blasphemy. Catching Dean looking at him when he straightened properly, Castiel turned slightly red in the face and thanked the heavens that no one could read his mind. Dean smirked before Castiel's blue eyes met Dean's green ones and Dean turned his head back around to his canvas and pretended like he hadn't just smirked at him.
Castiel froze, glass and dirty paint water still on the ground around his feet, palms stinging from catching himself as he fell.
"What if someone could read my mind?" Shaking his head, Castiel laughed through his nose again and made himself put one foot in front of the other and move his body in mechanical movements to rid the floor of all the glass sharps and water. Lowering himself back into his chair, Castiel sat waiting for the bell to ring, it was lunch next and he had free period last so he could go home early.
"What if someone could read my mind," he thought again looking around the class.
"Obviously impossible," Castiel folded his arms across his chest and drew his knees up to rest his feet on the bar at the bottom of his chair.
"But just to make sure. If you can read my mind," Castiel thought loudly as if he were shouting.
"Cough right now," There was a pregnant pause before a cough came from beside him.
Castiel whipped his head around and stared at Dean. But Dean was facing away from Castiel, putting his brushes away in his back pack.
"A coincidence, Dean Winchester can't read my mind." There was another pause as Castiel just watched Dean pack away his stuff.
"This is stupid but just in case it wasn't a coincidence," looking directly at Dean, Castiel tried again.
"If you can read my mind," he shouted in his head again, "cough right now."
Dean turned his head to stare straight back at Castiel, and coughed.