( if there's one thing he'd never pictured his baby brother needing from an academic standpoint, it was a tutor. he's never needed one before, more often than not being the one to tutor other dummies in his classes in high school, and he guesses it makes a fair bit of sense when you take into consideration that physics is a son of a bitch – and why is he taking it again?
for the hell of it. for a more rounded curriculum. i've got a focus on science, dean. physics is science.
physics is impossible.
you thought geometry was impossible, and you still passed.
well, yeah, but –
suffice it to say that it hadn't been an argument that he'd won, and he'd dropped it, because there's only so much arguing you can do with your little brother about things like string theory and keep your head on straight. he'd gotten a tutor, and he's been passing everything with flying colors, so he can't complain. let him be a nerd if he wants, because he's always been the one with the straight-up brainpower while dean has always been better with hands-on learning, and that would be why they're studying on opposite ends of the spectrum.
besides, you can only learn so much about cars from your old man if you want to end up building them from the ground up. this is way more his style than sitting in a lecture hall for the better part of three hours and expected to take notes instead of using it as naptime. ( let's just say his freshman and half of sophomore year had been a little harder on him than they'd needed to be, just because getting all of his prerequisites out of the way had involved a lot of falling asleep in class and getting smacked in the forehead a few times by several different professors.
college is hard, okay. leave him alone. )
he's never been around for those study dates, but that doesn't mean he hasn't heard all about castiel. how smart he is, what he's researching, how he's been working on his thesis for so long already that his defense should go off without a hitch when it actually comes up – and even though dean doesn't exactly get all of it ( because why would you want to be in college for longer than four years? ), he listens to all of this schoolboy-crush-gushing with a tiny smile curving the line of his mouth at the edges, nods along with all of the excitement and pretends that he has at least a loose grip on the subject matter.
sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't, but he's good enough at bluffing that he's pretty sure he's managed to get away with it.
this particular friday afternoon finds him in the garage, under the hood of his baby with grease up to his elbows. nothing wrong with her, just a little bit of routine maintenance that he's been putting off in favor of a couple of shop projects to get him through the end of the semester. sam's off who-knows-where, maybe having his playdate at the nerd's place this week, and he isn't expecting to nearly bonk his head on the underside of the impala's hood when he hears a voice he isn't familiar with.
talk about graceful.
he peers around the impala, both brows raised at the intrusion, and even though he's never so much as seen a glimpse of this so-called hot nerd, he knows that's exactly who he has to be looking at.
… hm.
not bad. ) Castiel, right? Hey. ( and here comes the flash of one of his winning smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches for a rag to wipe his hands on. ) Sammy's told me a lot about you.
no subject
Date: 26 Dec 2015 05:59 (UTC)for the hell of it. for a more rounded curriculum. i've got a focus on science, dean. physics is science.
physics is impossible.
you thought geometry was impossible, and you still passed.
well, yeah, but –
suffice it to say that it hadn't been an argument that he'd won, and he'd dropped it, because there's only so much arguing you can do with your little brother about things like string theory and keep your head on straight. he'd gotten a tutor, and he's been passing everything with flying colors, so he can't complain. let him be a nerd if he wants, because he's always been the one with the straight-up brainpower while dean has always been better with hands-on learning, and that would be why they're studying on opposite ends of the spectrum.
besides, you can only learn so much about cars from your old man if you want to end up building them from the ground up. this is way more his style than sitting in a lecture hall for the better part of three hours and expected to take notes instead of using it as naptime. ( let's just say his freshman and half of sophomore year had been a little harder on him than they'd needed to be, just because getting all of his prerequisites out of the way had involved a lot of falling asleep in class and getting smacked in the forehead a few times by several different professors.
college is hard, okay. leave him alone. )
he's never been around for those study dates, but that doesn't mean he hasn't heard all about castiel. how smart he is, what he's researching, how he's been working on his thesis for so long already that his defense should go off without a hitch when it actually comes up – and even though dean doesn't exactly get all of it ( because why would you want to be in college for longer than four years? ), he listens to all of this schoolboy-crush-gushing with a tiny smile curving the line of his mouth at the edges, nods along with all of the excitement and pretends that he has at least a loose grip on the subject matter.
sometimes he does, sometimes he doesn't, but he's good enough at bluffing that he's pretty sure he's managed to get away with it.
this particular friday afternoon finds him in the garage, under the hood of his baby with grease up to his elbows. nothing wrong with her, just a little bit of routine maintenance that he's been putting off in favor of a couple of shop projects to get him through the end of the semester. sam's off who-knows-where, maybe having his playdate at the nerd's place this week, and he isn't expecting to nearly bonk his head on the underside of the impala's hood when he hears a voice he isn't familiar with.
talk about graceful.
he peers around the impala, both brows raised at the intrusion, and even though he's never so much as seen a glimpse of this so-called hot nerd, he knows that's exactly who he has to be looking at.
… hm.
not bad. ) Castiel, right? Hey. ( and here comes the flash of one of his winning smiles, eyes crinkling at the corners as he reaches for a rag to wipe his hands on. ) Sammy's told me a lot about you.