Meet Dean Winchester from Eric Kripke’s Supernatural. He’s about to repress his feelings and claim “no homo” again for the umpteenth time. This fate could have been avoided if he still had his nerdy gay friend.
Dean starts to flirt with a blonde waitress (who is having none of it) after “accidentally” catching the eye of the dark haired man at the other end of the bar. Charlie runs in.
Charlie: What are you doing? What, what, what are you doing? [cue ‘Walking on Sunshine’ and a cute montage of Charlie]
Dean: What? She’s hot! C’mon, even you can’t deny that!
This turned into nerd!Cas more than anything, but I hope you still like it! (also on ao3!)
If the text had come from virtually anyone else, Dean would have immediately thought it was a come-on.
But seeing as it was from none other than Cas, the potentially suggestive statement was mollified into a matter of fact announcement. My siblings will all be out of the house this afternoon. You can come by around four o'clock.
Even knowing who it was from and the exact intent behind the words, Dean couldn’t help but let his mind wander to the more provocative side of the message. He was a horny bisexual teenager for God’s sake, who could blame him?
Especially since Cas was practically the epitome of sex. He had the dark, tousled hair of someone who had just been thoroughly fucked, the kind of perpetual five o'clock shadow that called to mind some kind of male model.
His eyes, big and bright and impossibly blue, would piercing and analytical. Dean wondered what they would look like when softened by pleasure, the light irises overtaken by his dilated pupils.
His lips were obscenely pink, plump and perfect and unbelievably enticing. They looked slightly chapped, constantly making Dean wonder if they would be rough if he kissed them. Among other things.
Essentially, Cas was like an angel come to Earth, gorgeous and ethereal and hot like burning. The only problem with that was that Cas actually acted like a little angel.
While Dean was a jock in every sense save for the stereotypical stupidity, captain of the football team and a proud grease monkey on the weekends, Cas was the embodiment of a nerd.
He was valedictorian of their class to the surprise of absolutely no one, not even people who deemed themselves too cool to care about class rankings. Dean wasn’t sure what exactly Cas’ GPA was but he had suspicions that it was near 5.0, if not surpassing it.
Needless to say, Cas was ridiculously smart. Mind-blowingly. Astonishingly. Sometimes overwhelmingly.
He knew about everything from ancient theological theories about the Bible to the most recent breakthroughs in the realm of astrophysics. And boy could he talk about anything and everything in between.
While usually soft-spoken and awkwardly taciturn, enough for people to have mistakenly presumed that he was mute, Cas could talk for hours on end. He just needed someone to spark the conversation.
That was part of the reason why the poor guy had a reputation for being painfully awkward. Of course, it was true and half the time Cas seemed a zebra amongst horses but it still provided fodder for all kinds of nasty rumors.
His heavy involvement in a whole score of school-sponsored clubs deemed nerdy by his peers didn’t help, either. In true nerd form, Cas was on the debate team, chess team, and the quiz bowl team.
Hell, Cas even dressed like a nerd. He may not have worn glasses but he constantly showed up to school in button-ups and slacks and shined shoes. He was even known to wear a tie occasionally, sweater vests too.
But none of that mattered to Dean. Well, it did, but it took a backseat to the more important fact that Cas was amazing and Dean had it bad for him.
Which is why, when he received the perfectly innocent text from the dorky little guy, his mind took the expressway straight to a daydream full of depravity and wistful lust. His head immediately filled with all kinds of ideas about what two people could do in a big, empty house.
And not one of those things he imagined had anything to do with studying or tutoring. The latter of which was the only reason Cas was inviting him over in the first place.
While Dean was usually a rather good student himself — he was smart despite what many people expected from him, more than a pretty face who could play football ― he had wound up falling a little behind in English. He had been too busy practicing for the big homecoming game to study for his first big English exam of the school year.
In his defense, football might get him a scholarship that would actually let him go to college while knowing just what exactly Hamlet’s tragic flaw was wouldn’t. (It was his inability to act, Cas had informed him.)
Because his grades had started to slip, his uncle Bobby had inquired with the school about getting Dean a tutor. Dean’s English teacher had been all too happy to comply, immediately looking into the available student tutors.
Dean had dreaded it, at first. He had been sure that he was going to wind up with some asshole who treated him like dirt just because he wasn’t in all honors classes.