Picture Perfect (in your eyes): Ch I
Title: Picture Perfect (in your eyes)
Rating: M
Pairing: Destiel
Summary: In his junior year in college, Dean meets a classmate who is legally blind, and he learns more about the world than he ever had before.
Wow. So it's been nearly a year and a half since I updated. Sorry about that! ^^ I've fallen madly in love with Destiel so I hope you enjoy my work!
Dean arrives especially early to claim his seat, adamant on making everyone else know not to take it. Ever.
First day of the new semester. Biophysics. He failed this class last semester with Miss Tavares, so he hopes to pass this semester with Dr. Sagendorf. Stupid mandatory credits, he sighs, because what the fuck does biophysics have to do with getting a degree for criminal justice?
He takes the seat closest to the door, against the wall, in the front row. He chooses this seat because it’s the least likely seat in which someone will sit next to him. He’s not here to socialize, he’s here to get a fucking degree and move the fuck on. He didn’t want to go to parties or make friends, he has enough of those back home, and he surely didn’t want to make hookups. He’d done enough of all of that during high school. And since he was in that incident that made him partly responsible for one kid going paralyzed below his neck, he turned serious.
He watches students pile into the dim classroom, someone turns on the lights on their way in, and Dean groans audibly. He can pick out the freshman just by looking at them; bad attitude, cocky sons-of-bitches. One last guy makes his way into the classroom, almost stumbling, wearing red-tinted glasses. What kind of pretentious asshole wears red-tinted-glasses inside? Dean wonders to himself.
Then Dean realizes… he’s blind.
He pads around the first desk he manages to find and sits, all caution and tension in his movements. Immediately those around him get up and move elsewhere, snickering to themselves and giving the blind kid nasty looks.
Ahh, yes, that’s good, make fun of the blind kid Dean thinks sarcastically. The audacity of others never ceases to amaze him.
Professor Sagendorf arrives a few minutes later. Dean has to hold back from groaning, again, as the guy introduces himself. The guy has a waxed, curly mustache and a beer gut, dressed in whatever-the-fuck pinstriped polo shirt. He passes out the syllabus and painstakingly goes over it, page by page, as if no one can just read it themselves.
“First thing I want to do is get you into pairs and…” Professor Sagendorf announces minutes later. Dean groans out loud this time, because everyone just loves group work, especially him.
Dean watches the students pair up, obviously preferring their friends over the weird antisocial guy up here. Then he looks over to the blind kid, and he’s not even making an attempt to pair up with anyone. His head falls slowly and he crosses his arms… seems like this isn’t the first time.
So, Dean walks right over to the front of the kid’s desk and kneels down, right at eye, er, hearing level for him. “Hey. I’m Dean.”
He lights up, straightens his posture immediately. “Hi, um, Cas.” He offers, extending his hand to an unknown distance in front of him.
Dean takes the handshake happily, squeezing Cas’ hand tight, but not too tight. “Do you, uh, have a partner?” He asks dumbly.
“No, um, not yet…” Cas answers shyly. He bumps his hand on the desk while pulling it back into his lap.
“Mind if I join you?” Dean asks again. What the hell else could he possibly be asking?
“Not at all!” Cas answers, smiling now. Dean pulls the chair from the next to him and joins him.
“Okay, this is just a pretest to see where you’re all at in your biophysics knowledge. Complete it together within the remaining class time.” Professor Sagendorf announces, passing out a worksheet to each group.
Cas experimentally feels for the worksheet and scans his fingers along it. In a second, he looks dejected again. “Sorry, you’ll have to read it to me…” He admits shyly.
“No problem.” Dean takes the worksheet and gives it a scan. Meanwhile, he notices a few other students pointing and giggling in their direction. Why is it so hilarious to work with the blind kid? he wants to ask, but he doesn’t think Cas is the type to like a lot of attention on him. “Okay, so, number one is ‘Given that one-J equals one-N-M and one-N equals one kgm divided by s-squared, what is the size of a hydrogen atom?’” Dean groans for the third (fourth?) time this class.
Cas chuckles softly and smiles. “That one’s not too hard. First you need to know the size of an atom, which is two angstroms in diameter.” Cas is typing away on a little black machine rested on his lap and Dean nearly scoffs at himself for politely trying not to stare. “Then substitute that into N, and you get…” Cas types a little more then lifts the black box onto the desk, turning it toward the sound of Dean’s voice. “H-squared equals sigma-m-e.”
Dean looks to the little black box. It’s no bigger than a tissue box and has only twelve keys, six on each side. In the middle is a little screen with the equation Cas just described.
“Does that look right?” Cas asks.
Dean smiles. “Uh, yeah! I think so?” He laughs. “I don’t want to be rude, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but what is that thing?” then Dean realizes he doesn’t know what thing he is referring to and adds “that thing you’re typing on.”
Cas smiles (and Dean figured he’d be insulted for some reason). “It’s my braille computer.” And Cas goes on to explain how different combinations of the keys make different letters and numbers and even quotation marks and exclamation points.
“All with twelve keys!?” Dean asks, amazed by the little system.
“Ha, yup.” Cas blushes and Dean wonders if Cas can tell Dean is watching his cheeks. “And I just plug it in at home and it will print out a braille page for me.”
“That’s really amazing.” They’re not even concerned with the biophysics worksheet anymore, and the professor couldn’t care less, it seemed.
“Nah, it’s nothing really.” Cas is blushing more, smiling even brighter. “I had to learn how to read somehow.” He drifts off at the end of the sentence. “Anyway, um, what’s number two?”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Dean stammers and hopes he hasn’t made Cas too uncomfortable with his curiosity.
They continue to work, Dean writing onto the paper whatever Cas types up on his computer. They’re done way before anyone else, much to the students’ dismay as they earn more dirty looks and snobby jeers. The professor looks over the worksheet, seemingly impressed.
“Oh, you’re Castiel Novak.” Professor Sagendorf says, his attitude distasteful to Dean. “I received your student disability paperwork just this morning. I’ll try to remember to bring a braille worksheet next time.”
Cas just sinks into himself and answers “…that’s okay…” timidly while the other students’ don’t care to hide their laughter this time.
Dean gives them all a look that could burn even the sun. They promptly stop and return to their own business.
By the end of the class, Dean gathers his things and waits for everyone else to leave. Cas seems to have the same idea.
“Do you get that a lot? I mean, that kind of discrimination?” Dean asks, standing a safe distance away from Cas so he wouldn’t accidentally bump into him should he turn around quickly.
“Sort of, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head, further messing up his already-disorderly dark hair. “That, or an embarrassing amount of sympathy.” He shrugs, pulling his backpack on. “I can see a little bit, I’m not totally incompetent.”
Dean doesn’t know how to reply so he doesn’t. He just starts walking next to Cas as they leave the classroom. “Got any more classes today?” Dean asks casually.
“Yeah, another one at four. What about you?”
“I’m done for the day. I can only handle one class a day.” Dean laughs, opening a door ahead of them to let Cas through first.
“That’s what I mean.” Cas laughs, but Dean can tell it’s a polite kind-of-awkward laugh. “You don’t need to open the door for me.”
“I didn’t mean…” Dean starts to explain. “…to insult you or anyth-”
“Sorry, sorry,” Cas starts, both of them still standing in the doorway stupidly. “I know you’re just trying to be nice…”
“How much can you see?” Dean asks instead as they continue outside along the concrete path.
“I can see basic outlines, shapes.” Cas explains, stopping to look at Dean. “Like, I can tell you have dark hair, and you’re a little taller than me, but that’s really all I can see.” He laughs. “I don’t even know what kind of style it is. You can have an afro for all I know.”
Dean laughs at that. Genuinely laughs. “It’s not an afro, I assure you.” He nudges Cas’ shoulder, surprising him a little. They both laugh and it feels natural to Dean, not forced whatsoever, and easy.
“Well that’s good.” He jokes. “Do you wanna grab some lunch?” Cas asks suddenly, and while it surprises Dean, he doesn’t hesitate to answer ‘yeah.’
Rating: M
Pairing: Destiel
Summary: In his junior year in college, Dean meets a classmate who is legally blind, and he learns more about the world than he ever had before.
Wow. So it's been nearly a year and a half since I updated. Sorry about that! ^^ I've fallen madly in love with Destiel so I hope you enjoy my work!
Dean arrives especially early to claim his seat, adamant on making everyone else know not to take it. Ever.
First day of the new semester. Biophysics. He failed this class last semester with Miss Tavares, so he hopes to pass this semester with Dr. Sagendorf. Stupid mandatory credits, he sighs, because what the fuck does biophysics have to do with getting a degree for criminal justice?
He takes the seat closest to the door, against the wall, in the front row. He chooses this seat because it’s the least likely seat in which someone will sit next to him. He’s not here to socialize, he’s here to get a fucking degree and move the fuck on. He didn’t want to go to parties or make friends, he has enough of those back home, and he surely didn’t want to make hookups. He’d done enough of all of that during high school. And since he was in that incident that made him partly responsible for one kid going paralyzed below his neck, he turned serious.
He watches students pile into the dim classroom, someone turns on the lights on their way in, and Dean groans audibly. He can pick out the freshman just by looking at them; bad attitude, cocky sons-of-bitches. One last guy makes his way into the classroom, almost stumbling, wearing red-tinted glasses. What kind of pretentious asshole wears red-tinted-glasses inside? Dean wonders to himself.
Then Dean realizes… he’s blind.
He pads around the first desk he manages to find and sits, all caution and tension in his movements. Immediately those around him get up and move elsewhere, snickering to themselves and giving the blind kid nasty looks.
Ahh, yes, that’s good, make fun of the blind kid Dean thinks sarcastically. The audacity of others never ceases to amaze him.
Professor Sagendorf arrives a few minutes later. Dean has to hold back from groaning, again, as the guy introduces himself. The guy has a waxed, curly mustache and a beer gut, dressed in whatever-the-fuck pinstriped polo shirt. He passes out the syllabus and painstakingly goes over it, page by page, as if no one can just read it themselves.
“First thing I want to do is get you into pairs and…” Professor Sagendorf announces minutes later. Dean groans out loud this time, because everyone just loves group work, especially him.
Dean watches the students pair up, obviously preferring their friends over the weird antisocial guy up here. Then he looks over to the blind kid, and he’s not even making an attempt to pair up with anyone. His head falls slowly and he crosses his arms… seems like this isn’t the first time.
So, Dean walks right over to the front of the kid’s desk and kneels down, right at eye, er, hearing level for him. “Hey. I’m Dean.”
He lights up, straightens his posture immediately. “Hi, um, Cas.” He offers, extending his hand to an unknown distance in front of him.
Dean takes the handshake happily, squeezing Cas’ hand tight, but not too tight. “Do you, uh, have a partner?” He asks dumbly.
“No, um, not yet…” Cas answers shyly. He bumps his hand on the desk while pulling it back into his lap.
“Mind if I join you?” Dean asks again. What the hell else could he possibly be asking?
“Not at all!” Cas answers, smiling now. Dean pulls the chair from the next to him and joins him.
“Okay, this is just a pretest to see where you’re all at in your biophysics knowledge. Complete it together within the remaining class time.” Professor Sagendorf announces, passing out a worksheet to each group.
Cas experimentally feels for the worksheet and scans his fingers along it. In a second, he looks dejected again. “Sorry, you’ll have to read it to me…” He admits shyly.
“No problem.” Dean takes the worksheet and gives it a scan. Meanwhile, he notices a few other students pointing and giggling in their direction. Why is it so hilarious to work with the blind kid? he wants to ask, but he doesn’t think Cas is the type to like a lot of attention on him. “Okay, so, number one is ‘Given that one-J equals one-N-M and one-N equals one kgm divided by s-squared, what is the size of a hydrogen atom?’” Dean groans for the third (fourth?) time this class.
Cas chuckles softly and smiles. “That one’s not too hard. First you need to know the size of an atom, which is two angstroms in diameter.” Cas is typing away on a little black machine rested on his lap and Dean nearly scoffs at himself for politely trying not to stare. “Then substitute that into N, and you get…” Cas types a little more then lifts the black box onto the desk, turning it toward the sound of Dean’s voice. “H-squared equals sigma-m-e.”
Dean looks to the little black box. It’s no bigger than a tissue box and has only twelve keys, six on each side. In the middle is a little screen with the equation Cas just described.
“Does that look right?” Cas asks.
Dean smiles. “Uh, yeah! I think so?” He laughs. “I don’t want to be rude, so you don’t have to answer if you don’t want, but what is that thing?” then Dean realizes he doesn’t know what thing he is referring to and adds “that thing you’re typing on.”
Cas smiles (and Dean figured he’d be insulted for some reason). “It’s my braille computer.” And Cas goes on to explain how different combinations of the keys make different letters and numbers and even quotation marks and exclamation points.
“All with twelve keys!?” Dean asks, amazed by the little system.
“Ha, yup.” Cas blushes and Dean wonders if Cas can tell Dean is watching his cheeks. “And I just plug it in at home and it will print out a braille page for me.”
“That’s really amazing.” They’re not even concerned with the biophysics worksheet anymore, and the professor couldn’t care less, it seemed.
“Nah, it’s nothing really.” Cas is blushing more, smiling even brighter. “I had to learn how to read somehow.” He drifts off at the end of the sentence. “Anyway, um, what’s number two?”
“Oh, right, sorry.” Dean stammers and hopes he hasn’t made Cas too uncomfortable with his curiosity.
They continue to work, Dean writing onto the paper whatever Cas types up on his computer. They’re done way before anyone else, much to the students’ dismay as they earn more dirty looks and snobby jeers. The professor looks over the worksheet, seemingly impressed.
“Oh, you’re Castiel Novak.” Professor Sagendorf says, his attitude distasteful to Dean. “I received your student disability paperwork just this morning. I’ll try to remember to bring a braille worksheet next time.”
Cas just sinks into himself and answers “…that’s okay…” timidly while the other students’ don’t care to hide their laughter this time.
Dean gives them all a look that could burn even the sun. They promptly stop and return to their own business.
By the end of the class, Dean gathers his things and waits for everyone else to leave. Cas seems to have the same idea.
“Do you get that a lot? I mean, that kind of discrimination?” Dean asks, standing a safe distance away from Cas so he wouldn’t accidentally bump into him should he turn around quickly.
“Sort of, yeah.” He scratches the back of his head, further messing up his already-disorderly dark hair. “That, or an embarrassing amount of sympathy.” He shrugs, pulling his backpack on. “I can see a little bit, I’m not totally incompetent.”
Dean doesn’t know how to reply so he doesn’t. He just starts walking next to Cas as they leave the classroom. “Got any more classes today?” Dean asks casually.
“Yeah, another one at four. What about you?”
“I’m done for the day. I can only handle one class a day.” Dean laughs, opening a door ahead of them to let Cas through first.
“That’s what I mean.” Cas laughs, but Dean can tell it’s a polite kind-of-awkward laugh. “You don’t need to open the door for me.”
“I didn’t mean…” Dean starts to explain. “…to insult you or anyth-”
“Sorry, sorry,” Cas starts, both of them still standing in the doorway stupidly. “I know you’re just trying to be nice…”
“How much can you see?” Dean asks instead as they continue outside along the concrete path.
“I can see basic outlines, shapes.” Cas explains, stopping to look at Dean. “Like, I can tell you have dark hair, and you’re a little taller than me, but that’s really all I can see.” He laughs. “I don’t even know what kind of style it is. You can have an afro for all I know.”
Dean laughs at that. Genuinely laughs. “It’s not an afro, I assure you.” He nudges Cas’ shoulder, surprising him a little. They both laugh and it feels natural to Dean, not forced whatsoever, and easy.
“Well that’s good.” He jokes. “Do you wanna grab some lunch?” Cas asks suddenly, and while it surprises Dean, he doesn’t hesitate to answer ‘yeah.’