Gabriel is running on six hours of sleep over three days when Dean drops a bag of tootsie pops on the papers he’s trying to mark, and when the cup of coffee is set down by his hand, Gabriel knows it’s all over.

“So, how did we do?” Dean does a half-hearted imitation of subtlety when he glances at the red grades Gabriel has been penning, knowing his own result is somewhere among them, and Gabriel doesn’t have the energy to wait for Dean to lead up with some line about how quickly his tongue could get to the core of the candy he brought; Gabriel takes a gulp of the fresh cup of bliss and pulls Dean down to find his mouth, pushing the papers aside.