hamburgergod

Cas is being weird.

He makes them both a cup of hot chocolate one night like usual. When he brings it to Cas in his room,  Cas freezes up with his phone in hand.

“Uh.” Dean blinks. “Everything alright?”

Cas stares at him wide-eyed, glances down at the mug of hot cocoa, back to Dean, and puts his phone on his desk with a resolute thump and the screen pointedly downward. “Yes.”

Okay.

“Hey to you, too,” Dean replies through a mouthful of rice and chicken. “Again?”

“Yeah.” She’s wearing the full gear—mittens, earmuffs, a scarf, the whole lot. She slumps over the cafeteria table. “This is how I’ve been sleeping.”

“Are you serious?”

“No,” she replies and Dean starts to laugh, but she only grows more grim. “I also wear ski pants on top of one of those fuzzy pajama bottoms and these super thick socks that I can’t fit into my boots. Also two sweaters and my coat.”

“Oh. Shit.” Dean forgives her for stealing one of his chicken pieces, if only out of pity. “That sucks, man. Did you tell the landlord?”

“Yeah, but he hasn’t done anything yet.” She chews on the piece mournfully. “He said he would, but he hasn’t. On a completely unrelated note, our lease includes all utilities, so. You know how it is.”

He can relate—it wouldn’t be the first time a college student had a dick landlord. “Dude, that sucks,” he says, more for consolation than anything since there’s not much he can offer.