wordcount: 1622
summary: having to do a presentation in front of a classroom full of teenagers feels a lot less terrifying when there's a six foot four moose standing beside you, willing to do anything and everything to make it easier for you.
warnings: fluff, deer!reader (fem), moose!sammy, idiots in love figuring out n being oblivious, highschool life is Hell, reader implied to have social anxiety, sammy is a sweetheart, dean teasing because he’s a through n through messy older brother– think that’s all for now !!!
The announcement should've come with a warning. A waiver or something, maybe a small note explaining exactly why high school teachers enjoyed inflicting psychological warfare upon their students. Because standing in front of a classroom full of teenagers and willingly drawing attention to yourself? Sounded suspiciously similar to public execution. Unfortunately, your teacher seemed to disagree. "Project presentations will be worth thirty percent of your grade for this semester" The collective groan that swept through the classroom felt somewhat validating. Good. At least everyone else understood how shitty the situation was. "You guys can choose your own partners"
The room immediately erupted into movement– chairs scraped, people called out to friends, someone nearly tripped over a backpack. Meanwhile, you simply turned your head and Sam was already looking at you.
"Hm?" He tilts his head in a silent question.
You barely had to reply, simply nodding with a soft: "Mhm"
That settled that.
Throughout the morning, working with Sam was surprisingly easy. You'd expected at least one argument, one disagreement or at least one moment where you had to remind him that not every project required the same level of dedication as a NASA launch. Instead, the two of you easily slipped into a rhythm– research during lunch, planning during free periods, library sessions after school.
Sam handled information like he was born for it. Facts, sources, organization. Meanwhile, your contributions mostly consisted of listening to him ramble on and on about different concepts. In your defense, it was mesmerizing. He put such dedication and care into learning, explaining everything to you– not to make you feel bad about not knowing it already, but to let you into his little world of knowledge. "You color coded the concepts?"
He glanced up from his notebook, wide hazel eyes meeting yours through the messy locks or brown hair falling over his face. "Mhm?"
"Sammy" You can’t help but chuckle softly, disbelievingly fond at his logic.
"What?"
"People don’t usually do that"
His eyebrows pulled together in that confused-puppy look he got all the time. "How else would you organize it?"
You stared at him, lips slowly pulling into a soft smile, shrugging. “Fair enough” Sure, organizing the necessary points by red-orange-green depending on importance wasn’t the usual way of going about it, but it wasn’t like either one of you were normal in any other way so whatever.
His boyish grin arrived immediately, dimples and all. God those pretty dimples.
The first main problem appeared once y’all started practicing the speaking part of the presentation. Not the project itself, not the information, not even the note cards. The actual standing-up-in-front-of-people part.
Sam finished his section without issue. Despite being fairly quiet in class and soft spoken overall, it was fairly easy for him to openly talk about the stuff that he likes. The awkward six foot four nerd turns into a calm professor-level presenter with big words and hand gestures.
Then it was your turn. You stood, looked down at your notes, and started reading. You got a good three sentences in, maybe four before every word started tangling together. Your mouth felt wrong, the library felt too warm, too quiet, too– "Sorry" You immediately sat back down, heat creeping into your face. Embarrassing. Pathetic. Ridiculous. Oh my God you were gonna look so stupid– Sam was going to do an amazing presentation and you’d just make it look awful with your trembling words and dodgy eyes.
Across the table, Sam frowned– not judgmental, just concerned. "You okay?"
The answer came automatically. "Yeah"
His expression didn't change, which was unfortunate because by now he knew you pretty darn well. And apparently? That meant he knew when you weren’t being fully honest either.
Presentation day arrived far too quickly for your liking. You spent most of the first period considering your options, they included:
A) running away
B) faking your own death
C) running away after faking your own death
None of them seemed realistic. (Unfortunately) By the time you reached your locker, Sam was already there, waiting for you like always. "Hey"
"Hi" He handed you a stack of note cards, you blinked while looking over them. Then blinked again. "...Sam?"
"What?"
You flipped through them. Most of the presentation had been rearranged– the longer sections, the introductions, the parts involving speaking in front of everyone… They were all his now. Your eyes lifted to meet his warm, expectant gaze. "You changed it"
He shifts on his feet, awkwardly scratching at the back of his neck as if it weren’t a huge deal for you. "A little"
"Sammy"
His huge shoulders hunching slightly into himself– making himself smaller like he always does. "You looked nervous" The words were simple, matter-of-fact– not pity, not judgment. Just an honest observation. The way someone might mention it was raining outside instead of confessing the sweetest, most thoughtful thing anyone had ever done for you without even having to ask. You stared at him, then down at the cards and then back at him. Your chest felt weirdly tight– not the bad kind of tight, like when trying to speak in front of the class. Tight in the ‘oh my God you’re such a sweetheart’ kind of way.
"Oh"
Sam rubbed the back of his neck. "If that's okay, I mean… I don’t want to be overbearing or just assume anything or whatever–"
You laughed softly. Because somehow he'd spent hours reorganizing an entire presentation and still looked worried you'd be upset. "Yeah" A pause, you smile softly up at him. "That's okay" The relief on his face was immediate.
After that, y’all walk together to class just like every other day. There were a couple other groups that went before you, but eventually the inevitable came– standing in front of the class still sucked. For the record, it sucked tremendously. (No amount of preparation could change that) Your heart hammered against your ribs, your body felt hot, the room felt too big, too loud, too everything. You glanced sideways, Sammy stood beside you– calm, steady, ready. From the outside? It must’ve looked a bit ridiculous, the towering wall of floppy brown hair shielding your smaller, skittish frame from the class’ searing gaze. When Sam noticed you looking, he offered a small smile, the kind meant only for you. Somehow, your breathing evened out, even if it was just a little.
The presentation began– whenever you stuttered, he picked up the thread. Whenever you hesitated, he gave you a second to recover without making a big deal out of it. Never interrupting, never taking over, just...being there, beside you like always.
The presentation was done before you knew it, over much faster than you’d made yourself think it would last. Relief had already started settling into your bones by the moment y’all sat back down.
A couple hours later, the final bell rang. Students flooded into the hallway while you and Sam lingered behind, gathering your stuff with all the time and peace y’all used to have around each other. For a moment, it was just the two of you. "Pretty sure you carried that entire presentation" You hummed softly, glancing over at him from the notes you were stuffing into your backpack.
Sam looked up, confused like the idea had never occurred to him. "You did all of the slides"
"Still"
He shrugged, simple and easy. The answer was obvious in his mind. "That's what partners are for" Something warm settled quietly inside your chest– comfortable, familiar, safe. Like finding shelter beneath the branches of a tree you'd known for what felt like forever but never fully trusted you could use. For a second, you wondered if maybe the guide on the field trip had been right, animals did seek familiar environments during periods of stress. For you? That had slowly become Sam Winchester.
When Sam got back home, the front door had barely closed behind him when Dean's voice drifted lazily from the couch. "So…"
The younger brother immediately groaned. "Dude, don’t"
Dean grinned without even looking away from the TV (Something western and probably older than both of them playing on the screen) "Didn't say anything."
"You were going to" He huffs, kicking off his shoes and walking into the living room.
The blonde shrugs shamelessly. "I was"
Sam plopped down onto the couch next to him. "Don't"
Dean finally looked over, a teasing glint to his eyes. Of course he had to tease him! It was his duty as an older brother. "How'd the presentation go with your deer?"
The tips of Sam's ears immediately turned pink. "She's not my deer"
"Good" He nodded faux solemnity. "Glad to hear the six hours you spent reorganizing that presentation paid off"
Sam froze. "...What?"
"Dude" Dean scoffs, glancing over at his brother. "We share a room" A pause for dramatism because of course he does. "You were up until like one in the morning, ‘course I noticed the scribbling n’light on"
Sam groans in embarrassment, rubbing his hands over his face. "I was just helping"
The blonde barks out a laugh. "Right"
"I was" Sam doubles down, glaring at his older brother.
"Sammy"
"What?"
"You completely rewrote some crappy project ‘cause you saw she was nervous" The moose shifted awkwardly, back of his neck suddenly becoming very interesting to touch. Dean pointed at him. "See?"
"What?"
He scoffs, gesturing vaguely at him. "That"
"Dude what?"
"That thing you do"
Sam frowned with puppy-like confusion, head tilting to the side. "I don't know what you're talking about"
Dean looked toward the ceiling like he was searching for strength from someone up above. "Man, you got it bad"
