“I’m going to be completely honest with you,” Dean said, leaning to set a fresh cup of hot tea in front of you, “when I see you doing shit like this, it makes me pretty glad I never did the whole formal school thing.”
You looked up, sure that there was a little bit of a harried expression on your face. “Thanks.”
“…Sorry,” he said, giving you a regretful grin.
“No, I meant ‘thanks, for the the tea’,” you said, reaching to wrap you hand around the warm mug.
“Oh. Yeah, no problem.” Dean sank down into a chair beside you. “So, uhh, I can help you study if you want.”
You glanced up from your notebook to take in his sincere expression. “Are you sure you don’t want to just go to bed? It’s waaaaay past your bedtime,” you teased.
“Shut up,” he said, and he snatched the notebook from in front of you. “Okay. How about this? I’ll quiz you and every time you get an answer wrong you have to take off a piece of clothing…” He grinned at you with that mischievous glint in his eye that was just so Dean.
“Are you sure you’re here to help? Because so far all you have done is distract me,” you said, though you couldn’t help the smile on your face. But you snatched your notebook back.
“I made you tea!” he said, trying to look scandalized.
“You did. You also just made me lose my place…”
“Alright, alright. Gimme that book. I’ll quiz you. And I promise, as much as it pains me, I will keep it PG rated.”
You started to hand him the book.
“Dean!” you said with a laugh.
“Kidding! I’m kidding,” he said. He opened your textbook to one of the tabbed pages and began.