Bribery Will Get You Everything
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Cas
Word Count: ~1200
Rating: PG-13
Prompt: AU in which Dean is a professor teaching night classes, and Castiel is an adult continuing education student with a big crush on his (younger) teacher.
Written for the DC-Summerlovin comm.
First days are never easy, especially when you're an awkward middle aged man who's taking night classes at a local community college because you wish to change careers from your boring position in your family's business. But I've always wanted to study theology, and according to my course catalogue, my advisor, and the boy sitting next to me in the cafeteria when I was writing up my schedule- Mr. Winchester's course Introduction to Myths and Fairytales is the class to take. So it's a Tuesday night and I'm in a small lecture hall, sitting in the back row, by myself, required readings spread out on the desk before me. The class is a decent size, about a dozen. The majority of it is made up of individuals older than myself, mostly middle aged women, probably divorced or single cat ladies. And than in walks Professor Winchester, and I immediately understand why the class is so full of single older women.
Professor “Call me Dean” Winchester looks like something that just walked out of one of my confused thirteen year old self's wet dreams. He's younger than me by a few years, he's dressed down in a pair of form fitting jeans, a white t-shirt, and flannel. He looks just like one of the high school jocks I had a huge crush on. I could write sonnets about his forest green eyes, and I was never very good at poetry... He introduces himself to the class and than asks each of us to do the same. When it comes to my turn I mutter my name and look down without further introduction. After introductions Dean immediately goes into a lecture about how this class is not going to be about princess fairytales, and if anyone was looking for that Disney crap they should just get out now. The class gets into a lively debate about zombies as portrayed in the media. Several women (and some of the men) casually flirt with Dean, and he makes no excuses about his blatant flirting back. Dean assigns a reading on zombies in African and Haitian cultures for Thursday night and leaves the room with a small wave. Dean Winchester is unlike any man i've ever met. He is confident, enthusiastic, intelligent, and receptive to sexual advances- from anyone. On my first day of class I learn he likes cheap horror movies, baked goods, fast food, classic cars, and his little brother. I can't help but desire to know more about him. My older brother might have suggested I use this information to try and seduce my professor, but my intentions are purely academic.
On Thursday I bake Dean an apple strudel and arrive early to class to leave it on his desk before anyone else enters the classroom. Some of the other students try to get me to sit closer to them. I wave them off and take my seat at the back of the room. There is a better aerial view from this position and less of a distraction from fellow classmates' chatter. Dean arrives to class late and is startled and delighted to find the strudel. He says “Whoever the anonymous gifter is, you're not going to get an A for bribing me. Actually that's a lie, just tell me who you are and you'll definitely get an A, and possibly a marriage proposal.” When no one speaks up he just laughs and continues the lesson. When he bites into the strudel he makes sexual noises that disturb and fascinate me. Some of the women in the class look like they're drooling, at Dean not the pastry, and I can't really blame them. He looks delicious enough to eat with his eyes rolled up in ecstasy. At the end of class Dean asks us to pass in the notes we took with the readings. I slip a note into the pile of homework that reads 'Your lesson today was very interesting. Also I enjoyed watching you eat your strudel.' My brother might have told me the note was inappropriate, and than made some scathing sexual remark, but I think it was an appropriate way to display my appreciation.
Saturday is grocery shopping day. When I hear a very familiar voice in the produce section I duck into the cereal aisle and peep out. My brother might have commented that I was being very uncharacteristic of the Castiel he knew, and that if I wanted to tap that I should just get on it, but when I see Dean Winchester in deep discussion with a tall attractive young man I can't help but spy on him. “Dean, you really can't afford to start something with a student again, you almost got fired the last time!”
Dean seems agitated at the other man's words, “Yea Sammy, well I'm not starting anything. I'm just saying that one of my students has a thing for me.”
The younger man rolls his eyes, “Yea Dean, well I know that expression of yours. I know you're thinking of making a move.”
Dean's responding grin is breathtaking, “Yea well... maybe...”
“Do you even know who it is?”
“I know who I want it to be.”
“Eww gross. Isn't your class mostly old ladies?”
“Mostly.” Dean's grin grew wider, if at all possible. A box fell behind me, causing a loud thud. Both boys turn to look in my direction and I quickly duck behind the aisle, falling to the ground in a pant. So that was the younger Winchester. And Dean knew about my crush. I can't help but wonder who he wants his admirer to be.
In the next couple weeks I bring Dean a chocolate cupcake, a cherry pie, glazed doughnuts, and a cinnamon roll. Each time Dean's expression and delight are delectable. I also leave him notes on my opinions of the Hindu reincarnation cycle, woodland nymphs, and the particular green of his eyes. Not once during those weeks do I gather the courage to raise my opinions during lessons. It is on a Tuesday, blueberry scone Tuesday, that Dean arranges conference times to meet with each of his students to discuss their paper topics. I choose the 8 o'clock time slot.
At 8 I feel like my skin is going to crawl off when Ellen, one of my classmates and apparently an old friend of Dean's, leaves Dean's office and tells me with a wink, “He's all yours angel.” I'm the last student left waiting and my palms are slippery with sweat. Dean is sitting on his desk, not behind it, when I enter the office and sit in the brown leather chair positioned in front of the desk. He is so physically close to me that our knees bump. I feel his eyes scanning over me, but I'm having trouble looking him in the eye. When he finally says, “So, Castiel, I enjoyed the scone today.” my eyes dart up to meet his. A wide smirk spreads his face and I know I've been found out.
Dean leans forward and presses his lips to mine. It is short and soft, his mouth tastes like coffee and blueberries and my stomach does somersaults. When he pulls away his smile has softened, “But if you ever wax poetics about my eyes again I'm going to have to hand Sammy's princess crown over to you. Now why don't you tell me about your theory that all ufo's are actually fairies.” And Dean had said there would be no princess fairytales in this class...