mr. perfect

iii) the nerdy book kind

"Mr. Novak. Pay attention."

Castiel lifted his head up to see the professor. She was strict and professional and the least like any art major you'd imagine. Castiel nodded, but continued drawing. He was finishing his sketch of Dean. He wasn't in his class, so he thought it was fine. 

Once the class was over, Castiel scrambled to get all of his sheets in his binder. He couldn't be late for his next class. Then, bam--

Sheets flew everywhere on the floor. Cas cursed, but didn't look up to see who he ran into. "Sorry," he was mumbling, picking up the sheets. Before he knew it the person was helping him. But he only picked up one page in particular. It was the drawing of Dean. 

Castiel looked up. It was Dean. Seeing him made him flustered. "I, uh, needed a muse, I'm sorry-- It's not that good. I'm not a stalker or anything I just thought--"

"No, no," Dean says, a bit taken aback. "It's actually amazing." He looked up at Cas. "How did you learn to draw like that?"

"I, um, taught myself." Cas rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, blushing furiously. 

"This is awesome. Can I keep it?" He said. 

Cas cleared his throat. He didn't have a reason not to. Plus, it'd be weird to admit he wanted to keep that drawing. "Sure."

"Thanks."

"Well, I owed you for the free drink anyway," Cas mentioned. 

"Nah, that was on me. You don't owe me anything," Dean interrupted. 

"Still, I didn't pay for--"

"Cas." Dean looked up at him, serious. "It was on me. I wanted to buy it."

Cas was stunned into silence. 

"Well, sorry for the awkward meeting again," Dean said. "Since we keep bumping into each other, how about, I don't know, we meet somewhere so we don't have this awkwardness again?"

"Um, yeah." Cas was too distracted by the million shades of green to understand what he was agreeing to. 

"How about the library?" Dean suggested. Cas seemed like the nerdy book kind. "When's your spare?"

"One o clock," Cas said. 

"Same here. I'll meet you there," Dean winked cockily, and overconfident. 

Cas stood there alone, with scrambled papers pressed to his chest. 

"Oh crap," he muttered. He was late to class.