Chapter Text
Dean sat on a wooden chair in the noisy school library, fanning himself with a magazine while two of his coworkers fiddled with the air conditioner.
He'd had one night stands with both of them. They were currently dating each other. And neither of them were on speaking terms with him, because apparently he was insensitive or something.
All the drama they'd caused made his job a lot harder than it should be. But he'd learned his lesson. No dating on the job. Really though, no dating at all for the past year or so. All guys were needy little bitches.
Dean's train of thought was interrupted when the din of the library suddenly died down. A man in a long, tan trench coat was moving toward the podium. Dean hadn't noticed him come in, probably because he seemed to be floating rather than walking.
The man cleared his throat and began speaking. "Good morning," he said, his voice deep and gravelly. "Thank you all for coming to this faculty meeting. I am your new principal, Mr. Castiel Novak."
Dean shifted in his seat, suddenly tensing. His gaze was fixed on Castiel's deep blue eyes. Despite the stern look he was giving the teachers, his eyes looked warm and soft, and Dean thought he caught a glimpse of nervousness in them.
Dean quickly realized he was barely listening to what the other man was saying, and forced himself to tear his eyes away.
"Today we will be discussing a most pressing issue, the existence of which I have been studying for quite some time."
Castiel's voice drifted in and out of Dean's focus as the teacher's eyes roamed over Castiel's slightly tousled jet-black hair, the soft dip of the bridge of his nose, his perfectly plush, light pink lips.
"Over the last decade, I have been observing failing schools- schools facing problems such as low test scores, poor student attendance, and low graduation rates- in an attempt to isolate the cause of the problem." Castiel's voice got louder, more serious, and Dean snapped out of his haze.
Wow, this guy's a little ridiculous, he thought. He talks like he just walked out of a scene from Pride and Prejudice. But if he's from Pride and Prejudice, he's definitely Mr. Darcy. Dean chuckled at his own remark.
"And, ladies and gentlemen, I have. The problem is you."
Dean's jaw dropped. He sat up, all thoughts of Castiel's face dispersing quickly.
"Time and time again, my studies have shown that the reason student performance is steadily declining, is because the teachers we have employed are... sub-par."
The room stirred, a low hum of disapproving murmurs rising and then quickly dying down.
I am not a sub-par teacher, Dean thought, his ego slightly bruised. But I can't vouch for those two idiots. He shifted his eyes to the couple sitting a few seats away from him. They were holding hands under the table.
Despite his disdain for them, his stomach lurched a little as his eyes passed over their entwined fingers. A year ago he would have laughed at their childish display of affection- holding hands under the table while the principal scolded them for being crappy teachers. But now he couldn't help but be a little jealous.
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat again, playing with his hands and trying to bury the pit that was forming in his stomach, as he turned his attention back to Castiel.
"But I can assure you that I will make it my top priority to deal with this issue. I am working to implement many new tools for teachers, such as workshops, training sessions, and one-on-one discussions. I will tell you more about these new tools in the next meeting, which will be in exactly one week, same place and time."
A low groan moved through the room.
Castiel raised his eyebrows. "I advise you to get used to it. We will have weekly faculty meetings all year, and next year as well, if you teachers don't get yourselves together.
Dean could practically hear everyone rolling their eyes, but he just smiled. Somehow, he didn't mind the idea of being lectured by Castiel once a week.