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“Ugh.” Dean announces as he walks into the cramped dorm he shares with Cas.The other man is sitting at his desk, tapping away on his laptop. His eyes move to Dean as Dean throws his backpack down and slouches in his chair. Dean pulls out his laptop and places it on his desk.
“Ugh.” Dean announces again, to no one in particular.
“Would you like to share what’s wrong?” Cas asks, his fierce eyes still trained on Dean.
“Homework.” Dean grumbles as he pulls up the various websites he uses for his classes. It's the middle of the afternoon, it’s Friday, and Dean is done with classes for the week. He should be eating something greasy and mentally preparing to get laid later, not that he has to think about that much. Instead, he’s skipping his already late lunch to do homework. In his dorm room, where the only distraction is his messy haired, deep voiced roommate who he’ll never have a shot with.
This is the opposite of getting laid.
“Dean, you always have homework.”
“Not this much. and not on a fuckin’ Friday.”
Cas says nothing at Dean’s aggression and goes back to his own laptop while Dean turns to his. Dean knows Cas is used to his mood swings, they’ve been roommates since freshman year. Now, they’re in their second semester of Junior year, so close to being out of college (or into med school, for Cas) but still so far away that they have to care about things like weekend homework.
Dean watches the time on his computer tick forward another minute. Cas is back to typing, and the sounds of his keystrokes push Dean’s work out of mind. those fingers, strong and well formed, moving so fast and precisely over the keys-
The clock ticks forward another minute, and Dean thinks maybe he can get work done in time and still make it out into the real world. It's 4:15, so maybe if he manages his time right, he can leave before 7. While he’s thinking about good time management, Dean picks up his phone and leans back in his chair.
By the time he looks back at his laptop, it’s 4:45. Shit. Dean throws his phone down and pulls up his longest assignment: a ten page paper on a topic he knows nothing about. He sighs and opens a new document, ready to be productive so he can do something-
And Dean’s brain stops. He tries reading articles, re-reading them, finding new sources, but nothing is clicking. He can't put his findings together in his head, much less in a ten page, academically sound paper. His hand is still cramped from taking notes in his earlier lecture, Dean didn’t sleep at all last night and he’s tired and he doesn’t want to, no, cant, do his homework.
Dean rubs his eyes, sour and fuzzy from lack of sleep, and tries to read over his sources again. He's really tired. The tabs open on his screen are starting to blur. Dean opens the document and tries to type, but nothing comes out. He stares at his fingers on the keyboard, and his mind drifts back to what Cas’ fingers must look like- no, he can’t think about that when the guy is right there, in the same room as you, dammit Dean. Dean leans back in his chair again and catches sight of his covers. Sleep is much easier to understand than whatever the hell he’s supposed to be writing about.
Dean stands and takes off his flannel. He then slips off his jeans, leaving him in a plain black tee and boxers. He and Cas got over the privacy thing a while ago. He climbs into bed and settles into his pillow.
“I thought you had homework.” a gravelly voice asks.
“Yeah, but sleeping is a lot easier.” Dean responds, adjusting a little.
“Dean.”
“Cas.”
“Doesn’t your scholarship rely on your gpa?”
“Yeup.”
“So why aren’t you doing your homework?”
“Because I don't want to.”
“Dean-“
“If it's so important, you do it.” Dean says with more bite in his voice than he intended.
Cas doesn’t respond.
“G’night, Cas.”
•••
Dean is stubborn, but Cas is even more so. Once he knows Dean is fully asleep, Cas quietly moves over to Dean’s desk.
Dean not only left his laptop open, but his assignments and sources as well. Cas skims the articles and smiles to himself. Dean’s good at research, his sources are sound. and Cas has edited enough of Dean’s papers to copy his writing style.
Cas looks at the other assignments Dean has due today. Two online quizzes (open book by default), a translation for Dean’s Spanish class, 20 stats questions, a peer response forum, and the paper.
If Dean wants Cas to do his homework, so be it.
•••
Dean stirs, spring sunlight filtering in through his window and gently warming his face. He yawns and stretches, his bones clicking into pace and adjusting after that fucking amazing sleep, holy shit. He rubs his face as he sits up, and sees Castiel at his desk, typing away on his laptop.
“What the hell are you doing?” Dean scrambles out of bed, eyes fixed on Cas, terrified of whatever his roommate found on his laptop-
“I did your homework.” Cas says simply.
"Dude, what?" Dean was slumped back on his bed, back hunched. He really hadn't meant to sleep all night, but even all that didn't feel like enough.
"I did all your homework, Dean." Cas stated everything so matter of factly, his gaze on Dean so simple and casual- Dean couldn't help but look away from the man he shared his dorm room with. Cas just tilted his head at Dean and continued to stare.
"Why?" Dean grumbled tiredly, still not understanding what was happening and craving his pillow again.
"You said if it was so important then I should do it." Dean had said that. but not seriously, never seriously- he couldn't help but smile at his hands and start laughing.
"Cas, I wasn't being serious-"
"You sounded serious Dean. and it needed to be done,"
"I was just upset, buddy," Dean struggles to find words as he looks up at Cas who's just sitting there. Looking at him. Like it's so simple. "You can't drop everything just to do my homework." his word twinged on the word "my", because he’s just Dean Winchester. He’s nothing special, a nobody compared to Castiel, the pre-med Chancellor’s list hard-working minor campus celebrity and total showstopper Castiel Novak. The man in question shook his head.
"If you're upset I want to help, plus I was bored. It's done now, Dean, no reason to argue." Dean sighed and fell back in his bed to stare at the ceiling.
"Cas...." he mumbled, trying to think rationally about this. How was he ever gonna thank Cas for this?
"Yes, Dean?" Cas has gotten up from Dean's desk, closing his laptop, and walking over to his respective bed. He never looked away from Dean, never untitled his head in question.
"How can I thank you?" Dean asks.
"Say thank you?" Cas never got the deeper meaning. Dean laughed.
"Duh. Thank you Cas, so much. But how can I repay you?" Cas sat on his bed and thought for a moment, watching as Dean yawned again.
"You could start by buying me brunch, I am hungry." Dean whipped his head to look at the clock.
"Dude how long was I asleep!?" he fell out of bed to find his clothes from the day before but was stopped by Cas bending over to help him off the ground.
"About eighteen hours.”
“Why didn’t you wake me up? That’s too much sleep.”
“You were exchaused Dean. You needed the rest.” Cas was right of course, but Dean would never admit it. Cas rose and looked at Dean.
They stood in the space between their beds, Cas was in the same clothes he had been when Dean fell asleep and from the looks of it hadn't slept himself. But he didn't seem tired, Dean would never understand. Dean was rumbled, hair standing up in weird ways and he probably needed to change his t-shirt and boxers. But none of that mattered as they stood in their shared space, which was always too small during the day and too much space between them at night.
Cas wrapped his arms around Dean and Dean shuttered. The way his chin fit in Dean's shoulder, those arms around his torso, a hand snaking up to comb through his hair. For a moment Dean was limp and useless, frozen in place. But then he wrapped them around Cas as tightly as he could and nuzzled his head into Cas.
"Thank you." he said into Cas' neck, muffled but still audible. Cas laughed and pulled away much to Dean's disappointment.
"You're welcome, Dean." he turned away and grabbed at a hoodie on his bed. "Now, I assume you’re not going on our first date in your boxers-”