fic, Supernatural: How Sam Winchester Ended Up Smitten With The New, Hot Librarian... (Sam/Castiel)
Title: How Sam Winchester Ended Up Smitten With The New, Hot Librarian (and proved to be related to his brother in the process)
Rating: PG13
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Castiel, Dean (sorta)
Words: 2264
Summary: the AU where Sam is in grad school, Castiel is the new librarian, Dean gives Sam sort-of-wise advice and the angst is at a minimum.
Spoilers: total AU, so... none.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. Otherwise it'd be a rom-com. No, not really, but still.
A/N: originally written for hopelessfangirl at the five acts meme with the prompts AU, watching movies and staring, sort of. And. Er. Damn. I guess that since it's a total rom-com grad school AU it qualifies as proper Sassy?
As Sam Winchester gets into the Stanford library for his first day in his third year of grad school (what was he thinking when he has opted for law at first? Yeah, well, in truth, ancient languages were more his thing, but if you go with that, grad school is kind of the sanest option to choose), the first thing he notices is that the new librarian is fucking hot.
Which, well, might not actually seem at first, because the guy isn’t exactly your standard of fucking hot.
He’s about thirty, maybe a bit older, with brown hair so dark that it borders on black, wears a suit (which is weird enough because Sam has never seen a librarian with a suit around here) and looks not exactly small but still, kind of subdued. Sam hadn’t really noticed anything out of the ordinary when he got to the desk with his request, and then the librarian raises his head and fuck, Sam finds himself staring into breathtaking blue eyes. He doesn’t think that he has seen eyes of a purer shade of blue in his whole life; and they come with regular and delicate but-not-too-feminine lines on the guy’s face, a straight nose and two pink, full, slightly chapped lips which just beg to be kissed.
Sam realizes he’s staring and then shakes his head and asks for his books. The guy nods and goes to retrieve them, and meanwhile Sam catches the name on his tag. Castiel N., it says, and duh, well, weird name, but it seems kind of appropriate.
“These are your books. I assume you already know how to return them since you’re most definitely not a freshman,” the libra- Castiel says as Sam takes them. Two things happen, then: first thing, their fingers brush and Sam notices that Castiel’s fingers are warm and quite soft to the touch; second, that he hears Castiel’s voice. And fuck. It’s low, dark, and if you didn’t pay attention you’d say even close to flat, but it you do it really isn’t, and Sam is really glad that the librarian can’t see what’s going on below his waist.
“Oh. Yeah. Thank you,” Sam blurts, before getting out of Dodge as fast as he can.
--
When that night he calls his brother (who is still in Lawrence and has bought the auto shop off their dad, and Sam doesn’t think he has ever heard him sound happier), he already expects the comments.
“Dude, what? The librarian, now? Gross.”
“Hey, he’s… like, thirty, maybe thirty-two, not fifty. And he’s hot.”
“Yeah, like I trust your judgment on that. Alright, I’ll trust it on the hot part of it, but…”
“God, Dean, not about Ruby again. I fucked up there, okay? I know. No need to remind me.”
“Yeah, well, at least you’re seeing the light. I’ll give you that she was hot. But considering that all the girls you dated weren’t that much better, I guess that maybe you could give the other side a shot. Maybe it’ll go better.”
“Shut it, jerk.”
“Grad school or not, you’re totally still a fourteen-year-old bitch. But well, you really like the guy, go for it. Just check, before you get into his pants.”
Sam’s cheeks are red when he closes the conversation.
--
Still, he spends the next three weeks loaning a lot more books than he needs.
--
The situation is stalled (and damn, why is it that when Sam is studying in the library he just can’t help paying more attention to the way Castiel’s tie is crooked on the left than to what he should be working on?) until one day he actually curses over some freaking Latin that he just doesn’t get.
And he has never spoken out in a library in his whole life.
Nice way to get people’s attention on you.
What he doesn’t expect is a hand on his shoulder after, and when he turns to his left, duh, there’s Castiel, quite in his personal space, and while his mouth isn’t moving, his eyes are glinting with amusement.
“I gather you need help?” he whispers, and fuuuck. That voice, lower?
Sam is really glad that he’s sitting.
“Yeah. It’s this part here. I just can’t translate it and…”
“Meet me outside in half an hour,” Castiel whispers again, and Sam just nods, dumbfounded.
He does, and turns out that the guy actually fucking taught Latin at another college on the other side of the country. Sam would like to ask why one would move here and give up a teaching position, but he keeps his mouth shut and just thanks Castiel profusely. Castiel nods and takes his thanks, even if he looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention, and then as Sam is about to leave, he calls him back.
“If you need help again… “ he says before turning his shoulders back on Sam, tightening a tan trench coat around him, and Sam isn’t sure he believes it’s actually happening.
--
“Sammy, you idiot, you’ve been translating all your Latin crap with him for three weeks and you still haven’t gotten into the guy’s pants? How can we even be related?”
“Dean, shut the fuck up. It’s not like that! He’s… he’s not easy!”
Sam just doesn’t like the way Dean is making it sound like a cheap fuck. Castiel is everything but a cheap fuck, dammit, or the kind of. While being obviously very intelligent (well, you don’t land a teaching position at such a relatively young age if you aren’t), he just doesn’t slam it in your face, and he just has five years on Sam so not really that much, and while he’s mostly quiet until you speak with him more than twice, you can just see how passionate he is about what he does, and dammit, it’s just good to talk about stuff with him. Most of Sam’s friends are still from the days when he was in pre-law, so it’s not like he can, as Dean puts it, ‘gush with them over freaking three centuries old books’. And…
He doesn’t realize he actually said it out loud.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, if you’re so whipped just ask him out. Or to a movie. Or something friends do. He isn’t your fucking teacher, just do something or I’m comin’ there and arrange it myself.”
For some reason, the idea is frightening. And so he promises Dean he will.
--
Then, the next time they see each other, they’re having coffee before Castiel’s turn starts and Sam has a class (because they started having coffee together in the mornings now), and Sam has the guts to ask Castiel how come he’s here and not actually teaching.
“Oh. I had… a falling out with my family, I guess you would say. It was not exactly the reason why I changed jobs, but it had become way… way too unsettling.”
In a nutshell, as Sam learns after, the guy comes from a seriously strictly religious household, they find out he doesn’t like women, he gets disowned, he could also try not to mind but someone makes the news known across campus and… yeah.
“Man, that sucks. I’m so sorry, really, it’s totally…”
“It’s fine. Well, not really, I have not talked with them in a year by now but… I made peace with it. Are you sure that you don’t have problems with…”
“Me? No! Not at all,” Sam blurts, almost spitting out his coffee. Seriously. Problems. If only Castiel knew.
“Oh. Good. You know, I am not really in confidence with anyone around here except maybe for you, so if…”
It’s too much. Way-too-much.
“Doyouwantogotodinnerwithme?” Sam asks without pause, interrupting Castiel and earning himself a slight tilt of the head. Which is something Castiel always does when he doesn’t get something. Which Sam thinks is kind of adorable.
“Excuse me?” Castiel asks, but he doesn’t sound angry. He probably just didn’t understand it.
“Do you… would you like to… maybe we could have dinner one of these days? I dunno, if you’re not…”
“Sam. You are… are you asking me out?” Castiel answers, and Sam curses that voice which doesn’t betray emotions ninety per cent of the times.
“Er, well, yeah,” Sam answers, his voice small. “I mean, if you don’t want to then friends as before and we just, uh, forget it and…”
“Yes.”
“… we can totally not ever talk… what?”
“I said yes,” Castiel answers, and God, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips and it’s enough to light up his face.
Sam smiles back.
--
Sam spends half an hour deciding what he’s going to wear. Maybe he’s freaking out because he has never asked a man out, and it’s Castiel, not… not a cheap fuck, and he’s worried, and he doesn’t calm down even after playing Bon Jovi only for half of the day (which is totally his way of relaxing), and thank fuck Dean isn’t here or he’d make fun of him forever.
By the way, there’s a text from Dean on his cell. It says, go get him tiger. Yeah. His brother is awesome, sometimes. He still doesn’t know if this is one of those times or not.
He settles on dark jeans and a white shirt, combs his hair (fuck he needs a cut) for the tenth time and then figures he should just go and leave before he goes stir-crazy. He arrives ten minutes early in front of the library where they had their appointment and Castiel arrives five minutes early.
And oh. He kept the trench but he ditched the regular suit for one with dark jeans and a fucking three piece, all said pieces a different, dark shade of grey, and a red tie.
If Sam had thought the first time he saw him Castiel was fucking hot, he needs to redefine the concept.
--
Dinner actually is awesome. The conversation isn’t awkward, Sam has time to appreciate Castiel’s arms when he ditches the suit jacket, the food is great, the music is good (and actually, when Castiel tells Sam that while he has a preference for classical music he thinks that Bon Jovi are a perfectly legitimate band he’s relieved. People usually start not to take him seriously when he says he likes them), the wine is good too and when at one point he actually feels Castiel’s foot on his ankle, Sam’s eyes widen. He meets Castiel’s. And he actually looks down at his food half-blushing, but the foot remains there.
--
Sam suggests a movie after, because he doesn’t want things to end there. And Castiel says yes. And then when Sam says that maybe they could go see some Japanese movie that he couldn’t find anyone to go with because according to them it has to be artsy, boring and long, Castiel looks actually delighted.
During the last fifteen minutes, feeling very bold, Sam’s hand reaches out and touches Castiel’s thigh.
Castiel doesn’t do anything to move it away.
--
“Oh, fuck,” Sam breathes before leaning down again and kissing the hell out of Castiel against the door of the latter’s studio apartment. They had actually started kissing at the end of the stairs and they haven’t separated until then. How Castiel managed to open the door is a mystery.
“I echo the sentiment,” Castiel breathes when they part, and then those lips are on Sam’s again and Jesus, Castiel is an awesome kisser. He’s thorough, he has soft lips which are sin embodied or something, and as his tongue traces Sam’s teeth he can’t help moaning into the other’s mouth as Castiel grabs his hips and grinds against them. And they’re both so hard that Sam can’t even stand it.
“If you…” Castiel manages when they finally stop for air, “if you’d rather not move so fast I would suggest you to say it now. Because if you don’t…”
“Dude, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Hell, I’ve been staring at you for three weeks, it wasn’t just for kicks.”
Castiel actually blushes. For real.
“What?”
“I… I had been doing the same,” he admits, and then Sam for some reason feels very, very giddy.
“Does this mean we could have been doing this for a lot longer?”
“I imagine, yes.”
“Did I say anything about wanting to take this slow?” Sam teases, and when Castiel fully smiles at him his knees start to give out.
But that’s just not how things should go and so he mans up and kisses that smile once and twice and then he loses count, and fuck, he thinks as they undress each other while falling on the bed and kicking down three piles of books on the floor in the process, Castiel should really wear a lot less layers of clothing. They just don’t make that delicious body of his justice.
And then he proceeds to show Castiel how much he actually appreciates it.
--
The next morning, there’s a message on Sam’s phone, but he’s in bed with Castiel, they’re pretty much entwined in a way that is very comfortable but that would be extremely not comfortable if they tried to disentangle, and so he just smiles while he watches Castiel sleep before curling closer and ignoring the phone.
It can wait.
By the way, the message is from Dean. It says, I hope you didn’t pull that idiotic ‘let’s just not go too far the first time act’, or I’ll personally kick your ass myself.
End.
Rating: PG13
Pairing/Characters: Sam/Castiel, Dean (sorta)
Words: 2264
Summary: the AU where Sam is in grad school, Castiel is the new librarian, Dean gives Sam sort-of-wise advice and the angst is at a minimum.
Spoilers: total AU, so... none.
Disclaimer: Supernatural isn't mine. Otherwise it'd be a rom-com. No, not really, but still.
A/N: originally written for hopelessfangirl at the five acts meme with the prompts AU, watching movies and staring, sort of. And. Er. Damn. I guess that since it's a total rom-com grad school AU it qualifies as proper Sassy?
As Sam Winchester gets into the Stanford library for his first day in his third year of grad school (what was he thinking when he has opted for law at first? Yeah, well, in truth, ancient languages were more his thing, but if you go with that, grad school is kind of the sanest option to choose), the first thing he notices is that the new librarian is fucking hot.
Which, well, might not actually seem at first, because the guy isn’t exactly your standard of fucking hot.
He’s about thirty, maybe a bit older, with brown hair so dark that it borders on black, wears a suit (which is weird enough because Sam has never seen a librarian with a suit around here) and looks not exactly small but still, kind of subdued. Sam hadn’t really noticed anything out of the ordinary when he got to the desk with his request, and then the librarian raises his head and fuck, Sam finds himself staring into breathtaking blue eyes. He doesn’t think that he has seen eyes of a purer shade of blue in his whole life; and they come with regular and delicate but-not-too-feminine lines on the guy’s face, a straight nose and two pink, full, slightly chapped lips which just beg to be kissed.
Sam realizes he’s staring and then shakes his head and asks for his books. The guy nods and goes to retrieve them, and meanwhile Sam catches the name on his tag. Castiel N., it says, and duh, well, weird name, but it seems kind of appropriate.
“These are your books. I assume you already know how to return them since you’re most definitely not a freshman,” the libra- Castiel says as Sam takes them. Two things happen, then: first thing, their fingers brush and Sam notices that Castiel’s fingers are warm and quite soft to the touch; second, that he hears Castiel’s voice. And fuck. It’s low, dark, and if you didn’t pay attention you’d say even close to flat, but it you do it really isn’t, and Sam is really glad that the librarian can’t see what’s going on below his waist.
“Oh. Yeah. Thank you,” Sam blurts, before getting out of Dodge as fast as he can.
--
When that night he calls his brother (who is still in Lawrence and has bought the auto shop off their dad, and Sam doesn’t think he has ever heard him sound happier), he already expects the comments.
“Dude, what? The librarian, now? Gross.”
“Hey, he’s… like, thirty, maybe thirty-two, not fifty. And he’s hot.”
“Yeah, like I trust your judgment on that. Alright, I’ll trust it on the hot part of it, but…”
“God, Dean, not about Ruby again. I fucked up there, okay? I know. No need to remind me.”
“Yeah, well, at least you’re seeing the light. I’ll give you that she was hot. But considering that all the girls you dated weren’t that much better, I guess that maybe you could give the other side a shot. Maybe it’ll go better.”
“Shut it, jerk.”
“Grad school or not, you’re totally still a fourteen-year-old bitch. But well, you really like the guy, go for it. Just check, before you get into his pants.”
Sam’s cheeks are red when he closes the conversation.
--
Still, he spends the next three weeks loaning a lot more books than he needs.
--
The situation is stalled (and damn, why is it that when Sam is studying in the library he just can’t help paying more attention to the way Castiel’s tie is crooked on the left than to what he should be working on?) until one day he actually curses over some freaking Latin that he just doesn’t get.
And he has never spoken out in a library in his whole life.
Nice way to get people’s attention on you.
What he doesn’t expect is a hand on his shoulder after, and when he turns to his left, duh, there’s Castiel, quite in his personal space, and while his mouth isn’t moving, his eyes are glinting with amusement.
“I gather you need help?” he whispers, and fuuuck. That voice, lower?
Sam is really glad that he’s sitting.
“Yeah. It’s this part here. I just can’t translate it and…”
“Meet me outside in half an hour,” Castiel whispers again, and Sam just nods, dumbfounded.
He does, and turns out that the guy actually fucking taught Latin at another college on the other side of the country. Sam would like to ask why one would move here and give up a teaching position, but he keeps his mouth shut and just thanks Castiel profusely. Castiel nods and takes his thanks, even if he looks a bit embarrassed by all the attention, and then as Sam is about to leave, he calls him back.
“If you need help again… “ he says before turning his shoulders back on Sam, tightening a tan trench coat around him, and Sam isn’t sure he believes it’s actually happening.
--
“Sammy, you idiot, you’ve been translating all your Latin crap with him for three weeks and you still haven’t gotten into the guy’s pants? How can we even be related?”
“Dean, shut the fuck up. It’s not like that! He’s… he’s not easy!”
Sam just doesn’t like the way Dean is making it sound like a cheap fuck. Castiel is everything but a cheap fuck, dammit, or the kind of. While being obviously very intelligent (well, you don’t land a teaching position at such a relatively young age if you aren’t), he just doesn’t slam it in your face, and he just has five years on Sam so not really that much, and while he’s mostly quiet until you speak with him more than twice, you can just see how passionate he is about what he does, and dammit, it’s just good to talk about stuff with him. Most of Sam’s friends are still from the days when he was in pre-law, so it’s not like he can, as Dean puts it, ‘gush with them over freaking three centuries old books’. And…
He doesn’t realize he actually said it out loud.
“Jesus fucking Christ, Sam, if you’re so whipped just ask him out. Or to a movie. Or something friends do. He isn’t your fucking teacher, just do something or I’m comin’ there and arrange it myself.”
For some reason, the idea is frightening. And so he promises Dean he will.
--
Then, the next time they see each other, they’re having coffee before Castiel’s turn starts and Sam has a class (because they started having coffee together in the mornings now), and Sam has the guts to ask Castiel how come he’s here and not actually teaching.
“Oh. I had… a falling out with my family, I guess you would say. It was not exactly the reason why I changed jobs, but it had become way… way too unsettling.”
In a nutshell, as Sam learns after, the guy comes from a seriously strictly religious household, they find out he doesn’t like women, he gets disowned, he could also try not to mind but someone makes the news known across campus and… yeah.
“Man, that sucks. I’m so sorry, really, it’s totally…”
“It’s fine. Well, not really, I have not talked with them in a year by now but… I made peace with it. Are you sure that you don’t have problems with…”
“Me? No! Not at all,” Sam blurts, almost spitting out his coffee. Seriously. Problems. If only Castiel knew.
“Oh. Good. You know, I am not really in confidence with anyone around here except maybe for you, so if…”
It’s too much. Way-too-much.
“Doyouwantogotodinnerwithme?” Sam asks without pause, interrupting Castiel and earning himself a slight tilt of the head. Which is something Castiel always does when he doesn’t get something. Which Sam thinks is kind of adorable.
“Excuse me?” Castiel asks, but he doesn’t sound angry. He probably just didn’t understand it.
“Do you… would you like to… maybe we could have dinner one of these days? I dunno, if you’re not…”
“Sam. You are… are you asking me out?” Castiel answers, and Sam curses that voice which doesn’t betray emotions ninety per cent of the times.
“Er, well, yeah,” Sam answers, his voice small. “I mean, if you don’t want to then friends as before and we just, uh, forget it and…”
“Yes.”
“… we can totally not ever talk… what?”
“I said yes,” Castiel answers, and God, there’s a hint of a smile on his lips and it’s enough to light up his face.
Sam smiles back.
--
Sam spends half an hour deciding what he’s going to wear. Maybe he’s freaking out because he has never asked a man out, and it’s Castiel, not… not a cheap fuck, and he’s worried, and he doesn’t calm down even after playing Bon Jovi only for half of the day (which is totally his way of relaxing), and thank fuck Dean isn’t here or he’d make fun of him forever.
By the way, there’s a text from Dean on his cell. It says, go get him tiger. Yeah. His brother is awesome, sometimes. He still doesn’t know if this is one of those times or not.
He settles on dark jeans and a white shirt, combs his hair (fuck he needs a cut) for the tenth time and then figures he should just go and leave before he goes stir-crazy. He arrives ten minutes early in front of the library where they had their appointment and Castiel arrives five minutes early.
And oh. He kept the trench but he ditched the regular suit for one with dark jeans and a fucking three piece, all said pieces a different, dark shade of grey, and a red tie.
If Sam had thought the first time he saw him Castiel was fucking hot, he needs to redefine the concept.
--
Dinner actually is awesome. The conversation isn’t awkward, Sam has time to appreciate Castiel’s arms when he ditches the suit jacket, the food is great, the music is good (and actually, when Castiel tells Sam that while he has a preference for classical music he thinks that Bon Jovi are a perfectly legitimate band he’s relieved. People usually start not to take him seriously when he says he likes them), the wine is good too and when at one point he actually feels Castiel’s foot on his ankle, Sam’s eyes widen. He meets Castiel’s. And he actually looks down at his food half-blushing, but the foot remains there.
--
Sam suggests a movie after, because he doesn’t want things to end there. And Castiel says yes. And then when Sam says that maybe they could go see some Japanese movie that he couldn’t find anyone to go with because according to them it has to be artsy, boring and long, Castiel looks actually delighted.
During the last fifteen minutes, feeling very bold, Sam’s hand reaches out and touches Castiel’s thigh.
Castiel doesn’t do anything to move it away.
--
“Oh, fuck,” Sam breathes before leaning down again and kissing the hell out of Castiel against the door of the latter’s studio apartment. They had actually started kissing at the end of the stairs and they haven’t separated until then. How Castiel managed to open the door is a mystery.
“I echo the sentiment,” Castiel breathes when they part, and then those lips are on Sam’s again and Jesus, Castiel is an awesome kisser. He’s thorough, he has soft lips which are sin embodied or something, and as his tongue traces Sam’s teeth he can’t help moaning into the other’s mouth as Castiel grabs his hips and grinds against them. And they’re both so hard that Sam can’t even stand it.
“If you…” Castiel manages when they finally stop for air, “if you’d rather not move so fast I would suggest you to say it now. Because if you don’t…”
“Dude, I’ve been wanting to do this for a while. Hell, I’ve been staring at you for three weeks, it wasn’t just for kicks.”
Castiel actually blushes. For real.
“What?”
“I… I had been doing the same,” he admits, and then Sam for some reason feels very, very giddy.
“Does this mean we could have been doing this for a lot longer?”
“I imagine, yes.”
“Did I say anything about wanting to take this slow?” Sam teases, and when Castiel fully smiles at him his knees start to give out.
But that’s just not how things should go and so he mans up and kisses that smile once and twice and then he loses count, and fuck, he thinks as they undress each other while falling on the bed and kicking down three piles of books on the floor in the process, Castiel should really wear a lot less layers of clothing. They just don’t make that delicious body of his justice.
And then he proceeds to show Castiel how much he actually appreciates it.
--
The next morning, there’s a message on Sam’s phone, but he’s in bed with Castiel, they’re pretty much entwined in a way that is very comfortable but that would be extremely not comfortable if they tried to disentangle, and so he just smiles while he watches Castiel sleep before curling closer and ignoring the phone.
It can wait.
By the way, the message is from Dean. It says, I hope you didn’t pull that idiotic ‘let’s just not go too far the first time act’, or I’ll personally kick your ass myself.
End.