Work Text:
Crazy hair no matter how much you try to comb it
Ass way too hot for your own good
Smile that could light up this whole town bright enough to put the sun to shame
Trench coat too damn thin to face winter
Insanely deep voice for a seventeen yea ntense eyes that ntellect sharper than Wolverine’s claws
Eyes bluer than the ocean so deep I cou that make me feel all warm and fuzzy inside
L
Dean shoves the piece of paper under his notebook when the steady clicks of heels get closer to his desk. He scribbles some words as his teacher paces up and down the rows, making it look like he’s deeply invested in her rambling on President What’s-his-face, and he sneaks a look at the clock on the wall. Shit! That late already? There’s no way it took him almost the whole period to come up with that crap! How’s he supposed to write it up all nice and neat now? Dammit. Cas deserves better than that messy piece of junk.
Eh, nevermind. Cas has been feeling down all morning, so if he can at least get a smile on those pretty lips before next class, he’ll call it a win. Who cares if that’s hardly Shakespeare? Or if Cas can read the cheesy words he scratched out? The whole thing’s cheesy to begin with and so is his boyfriend. Hell, the dude’s such a sap he just might keep the note in the pocket of that dumb trench coat of his so he can touch it everyday until the ink’s all faded out, because he fell for a weird guy like that. A weird, dorky, little guy.
A giggle on his left makes Dean tear his eyes from the dark-haired boy gazing out of the window two rows away —when did he even start staring anyway?— and he wipes a smile off his face that is definitely not lovey-dovey, thank you very much. Glancing at the clock with a wince, he checks over his shoulder that Mrs. Stuckup McBoringpants isn’t watching him and he puts the ragged sheet of paper back on top of his notebook.
Good thing is the last line will take no time at all. He knows exactly what he wants to write next.
ove of my freaking life