Buddy, I need you (Destiel AU)

Chapter 2

I hurriedly push my damp hair back off my forehead and throw my clothes back on in record time, which is good because the moment I exit the bathroom my door clicks open. I silently pray that all the blood from the bathroom got washed off as my roommate enters.

I look up and my breath hitches in my throat. I can feel my jaw drop a little as I take in this man. For a moment I forget the pain still running through my body and struggle to hold back a gulp. To say he's stunning is an understatement. His bright green eyes remind me of fresh cut grass in the summer with golden rays of sunshine falling perfectly upon each blade. His face possesses chiseled cheekbones and a jawline so sharp that I could probably cut myself on it. His golden hair is gelled up slightly and his face looks breathless from seemingly having hauled his suitcase up the stairs.

I'm brought back to reality as I see his plump lips moving, but I don't quite hear what comes out of them. "Huh?" I question stupidly. A look of concern is now etched into his face.
"I said hi, I'm Dean, I'm supposed to be your new roommate, and are you okay buddy? What happened to your face?!" His voice is deep and gravelly, and I feel myself turning red as I remember my current state of appearance.
"Hello Dean, I'm Castiel. Um, yeah, I'm fine. Thanks for asking," I look down and twiddle my thumbs, wishing Crowley could've left my face alone.

The door shuts behind Dean and he drops his bags. Walking closer to me, still wearing a worried look, he says "Dude, you're obviously not fine, and that needs to be treated," he points to my face in general.
"Thank you for your concern Dean, but I will be fine, honestly." Gosh I wish I wasn't such a socially awkward person, I sound like a robot.

Dean isn't buying it, clearly, and I see him spot the open bathroom door. "Come on Cas, we can at least try and get some of this fixed." Dean grabs my wrist in his strong but gentle hand and pulls me towards the bathroom.
"It's Castiel," I mumble, but he either doesn't hear or ignores my remark, as he doesn't say anything.

"Where are your towels?" he asks. I point to a draw just beside him. He opens it and takes one out, then runs it under the cold tap. He awkwardly holds my cut face in one hand whilst pressing the flannel to my bruised eye with the other. The skin under his touch feels as though it's been ignited.
"Do you think you could hold this for me?" he asks, referring to the flannel. As I put my hand up the takes his place our fingertips brush, and my heart does some sort of weird leapy thing in my chest. I could swear I saw him blush.

"So Cas, how on earth did you manage this, buddy?" Dean questions whilst attempting to put disinfectant over my visible cuts. I sigh and debate telling him the truth, but I don't want to scare him away just yet. In the end I just settle for an "It's a long story." He nods his head as if he understands I don't want to talk about it, and he doesn't question me further on the matter. We sit in silence for a moment.

 "So how long have you been living on campus?" Dean asks, his soft growl of a voice catching me off guard.

"Oh, um, not long. A couple of months. How come you moved here?"

"Well I study here anyway, so it's just easier for me to not have to travel every time i have class." I nod, looking down at my spare hand resting pathetically in my lap.   

Once Dean was satisfied with cleaning up my face, we went back into the room and he began unpacking his stuff.

"Thank you, Dean."

"For what?" he asks with a puzzled look.

"For what you did just then.." He just shrugs it off without looking up. "You really looked like you knew what you were doing, I wouldn't have known where to start if I tried doing it myself," I insist, trying to make conversation. He slowly looks up and says,