The situation is stalled (and damn, why is it that when Sam is studying in the library he just can’t help paying more attention to the way Castiel’s tie is crooked on the left than to what he should be working on?) until one day he actually curses over some freaking Latin that he just doesn’t get.
And he has never spoken out in a library in his whole life.
Nice way to get people’s attention on you.
What he doesn’t expect is a hand on his shoulder after, and when he turns to his left, duh, there’s Castiel, quite in his personal space, and while his mouth isn’t moving, his eyes are glinting with amusement.
“I gather you need help?” he whispers, and fuuuck. That voice, lower?
Sam is really glad that he’s sitting.
“Yeah. It’s this part here. I just can’t translate it and…”
“Meet me outside in half an hour,” Castiel whispers again, and Sam just nods, dumbfounded.
He does, and turns out that the guy actually fucking taught Latin at another college on the other side of the country. Sam would like to ask why one would move here and give up a teaching position, but he keeps his mouth shut and just thanks Castiel profusely. Castiel nods and takes his thanks, even if he looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention, and then as Sam is about to leave, he calls him back.
“If you need help again… “ he says before turning his shoulders back on Sam, tightening a tan trench coat around him, and Sam isn’t sure he believes it’s actually happening.
--
“Sammy, you idiot, you’ve been translating all your Latin crap with him for three weeks and you still haven’t gotten into the guy’s pants? How can we even be related?”
“Dean, shut the fuck up. It’s not like that! He’s… he’s not easy!”
Sam just doesn’t like the way Dean is making it sound like a cheap fuck. Castiel is everything but a cheap fuck, dammit, or the kind of. While being obviously very intelligent (well, you don’t land a teaching position at such a relatively young age if you aren’t), he just doesn’t slam it in your face, and he just has five years on Sam so not really that much, and while he’s mostly quiet until you speak with him more than twice, you can just see how passionate he is about what he does, and dammit, it’s just good to talk about stuff with him. Most of Sam’s friends are still from the days when he was in pre-law, so it’s not like he can, as Dean puts it, ‘gush with them over freaking three centuries old books’. And…
He doesn’t realized he actually said it out loud.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, if you’re so whipped just ask him out. Or to a movie. Or something friends do. He isn’t your fucking teacher, just do something or I’m comin’ there and arrange it myself.”
For some reason, the idea is frightening. And so he promises Dean he will.
Re: Sam/Castiel, AU + sort of staring + movies + GRAD SCHOOL ROM COM OR SOMETHING, PG13-ish, 2/4?
The situation is stalled (and damn, why is it that when Sam is studying in the library he just can’t help paying more attention to the way Castiel’s tie is crooked on the left than to what he should be working on?) until one day he actually curses over some freaking Latin that he just doesn’t get.
And he has never spoken out in a library in his whole life.
Nice way to get people’s attention on you.
What he doesn’t expect is a hand on his shoulder after, and when he turns to his left, duh, there’s Castiel, quite in his personal space, and while his mouth isn’t moving, his eyes are glinting with amusement.
“I gather you need help?” he whispers, and fuuuck. That voice, lower?
Sam is really glad that he’s sitting.
“Yeah. It’s this part here. I just can’t translate it and…”
“Meet me outside in half an hour,” Castiel whispers again, and Sam just nods, dumbfounded.
He does, and turns out that the guy actually fucking taught Latin at another college on the other side of the country. Sam would like to ask why one would move here and give up a teaching position, but he keeps his mouth shut and just thanks Castiel profusely. Castiel nods and takes his thanks, even if he looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention, and then as Sam is about to leave, he calls him back.
“If you need help again… “ he says before turning his shoulders back on Sam, tightening a tan trench coat around him, and Sam isn’t sure he believes it’s actually happening.
--
“Sammy, you idiot, you’ve been translating all your Latin crap with him for three weeks and you still haven’t gotten into the guy’s pants? How can we even be related?”
“Dean, shut the fuck up. It’s not like that! He’s… he’s not easy!”
Sam just doesn’t like the way Dean is making it sound like a cheap fuck. Castiel is everything but a cheap fuck, dammit, or the kind of. While being obviously very intelligent (well, you don’t land a teaching position at such a relatively young age if you aren’t), he just doesn’t slam it in your face, and he just has five years on Sam so not really that much, and while he’s mostly quiet until you speak with him more than twice, you can just see how passionate he is about what he does, and dammit, it’s just good to talk about stuff with him. Most of Sam’s friends are still from the days when he was in pre-law, so it’s not like he can, as Dean puts it, ‘gush with them over freaking three centuries old books’. And…
He doesn’t realized he actually said it out loud.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, if you’re so whipped just ask him out. Or to a movie. Or something friends do. He isn’t your fucking teacher, just do something or I’m comin’ there and arrange it myself.”
For some reason, the idea is frightening. And so he promises Dean he will.
--