Work Text:
"You know who's the real villain here?" Dean was leaning all the way back in his chair -- feet kicked up on the library table, ankles crossed, hands behind his head, elbows flared out to the sides. Every inch of his posture spoke of studied arrogance and a total disinterest in the books arrayed in front of them.
Cas scanned the room, making sure Ms. Mills wasn't about to come storming up and slap Dean's feet down onto the floor before lecturing him about damage to school property again. Then he cocked an eyebrow Dean's way. Despite himself, he was intrigued by his fellow student's question. "It's not Iago?"
Dean scoffed and leaned forward, planting his sneakers back on the carpet. "Pfff, no, Iago's a cardboard cutout. Shakespeare stuck him in there 'cause he needed a baddie, but his backstory barely exists and his motivation's bullshit. No, the real villain here is Mr. Singer."
"Really? Why?"
He gestured expansively as he explained, "He's got you tutoring me, which means we're both missing out on a gorgeous fall afternoon, and for what? I'm still gonna fail, like I always do, and neither of us will ever get this time back." He crossed his arms and settled into his chair, his mouth a frustrated line.
"I don't feel like I'm missing out on anything, Dean. I like tutoring you. And I don't think you're going to fail. You're picking things up very quickly, and the questions you've asked show real insight into the work. You've developed quite a grasp of the characters, for example, as your opinion about Iago shows."
"Yeah? Huh. Yeah, I guess I have. You must be a hell of a tutor, buddy. Y'know, we should celebrate." Dean smirked as he said it, but there was something uncertain in the way he didn't quite meet Cas's eyes.
"Celebrate?"
"You, me, burgers in the park? A movie after?" Dean's cheeks were pink now, a blush spreading delicately across his face and onto his neck. Cas had to admit it to himself: While cocky, mouthy, everyday Dean was a very good-looking young man, there was something truly beautiful about him as he was now -- uncertain, hopeful, shy. Cas was charmed.
"Are you asking me on a date?" he asked, a tease in his tone.
The blush intensified. "...Maybe."
"Then yes."