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Dean Winchester paused in the hallway, his gaze traveling to Castiel Novak unlocking his classroom door. The man stopped and looked up. His shirt and pants were always in order, but his blue tie always seemed to be backwards and his hair varied from mussed to neat. Dean preferred a relaxed style, wearing nice jeans and a button up shirt that he rolled the sleeves on.
The Englishman turned to look at Dean Winchester. “What?” he asked.
“Just wondering if you’re going to take your tea and crumpets,” Dean said, smirking a little . They always gibed at one another about their heritage.
“Don’t you have a rugby game to attend?” Cas asked, quirking an eyebrow.
“It’s called football,” Dean said as a few students stopped to watch the wit match. “Honestly, how long have you been here and you can’t tell the difference between rugby and football?”
“Oh, I’m sorry. I forgot that you wear more pads so you don’t get hurt,” Cas said.
“Good show, governor,” Dean said in a horrible British accent. “Very funny. At least we have better dental care. What’s with a majority of the English having rotten teeth?”
“God bless the land of the free,” Cas said in a very poor and dramatic Texas drawl that had a few students chuckling. “Where the cowboys at, with them beans and lassos?”
Dean rolled his eyes. “Could you have a more terrible accent?” he asked.
“I could sound like you,” Cas said, earning a few ‘ooohhs’ and ‘burn’ from the students in the hall. “However fun this exchange is, I have a class to teach.” He opened the door to his classroom and the students started filing in. He caught a few of them whispering to one another about ‘I totally ship them’ and ‘They are so my OTP’. He turned his back to his class, writing the day’s lesson on the board to hide his smile. Oh, the wonderful joy of students.
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Dean was pouring himself a cup of coffee when the door to his apartment opened and closed. He smiled as strong arms wrapped around his waist, a smooth hand picking up the hot cup of tea on the counter.
“Hey, babe,” he said, smiling as he felt a pair of lips brush the side of his neck.
“Hey,” Cas said, giving him a squeeze before sipping his tea. “Delicious.” He kissed his neck again. "The students are still making us their OTP."
Dean chuckled. "If they only knew, huh?" Dean said, turning around in Cas’ arms. “Did you have to make fun of football?”
“Did you have to make fun of rotten teeth?” Cas asked. “I have very good dental care, thank you.”
Dean leaned forward and captured Cas’ lips, slipping his tongue along his boyfriend’s teeth. Cas gripped the front of Dean’s shirt and breathed in sharply through his nose. His body felt hot and he wavered slightly as Dean pulled back. “Nope,” the American said, his voice shaky. “No rotten teeth.”
“You sure?” Cas asked. “I’m sure there might be something wrong somewhere.”
Dean put their mugs on the counter and grabbed Cas’ blue tie, heading toward the bedroom. “Only one way to know for sure,” he said.
Cas smiled. The school might ship them, but they had no idea.