#queerdestielnet

Cas: No, he’s not on any flatbread.

Cas: Your birthday is tomorrow, correct?

Dean smiles, both at Cas’s response to their earlier conversation and his adorably formal texting style. He replies immediately.

Dean: yup! you gonna get me a present? ;)

He and Cas actually met on Omegle when Dean was just looking for someone to sext with (he’s never, ever admitting that to Cas--it sounds really sad in retrospect). They’d both been interested in burgers, Vonnegut, and men, and when Cas started talking about the nature of time and reality in Slaughterhouse Five Dean didn’t have the heart to next him.

They’d traded info, and it turned out Cas was awesome. They started dating pretty quick after that, but over two months in and they haven’t exactly met. Or skyped. Or anything, really. He has no idea what his boyfriend even looks like.

Cas: Maybe. :)

Sam coughs loudly, breaking Dean’s prolonged eye contact with his phone. 

“Dean.” 

“What?”

Sam sighs. “Nevermind. Look, I’m glad you’ve found someone, alright? I want you to be happy. But dude. You’ve never even met him.”

“I will! And when I do, I’m gonna look him straight in the eye and say ‘You’re even hotter in person,’ and it’ll be awesome.” He grins assuredly.

Sam rolls his eyes. “Just...come up for air every now and then, yeah?”

Dean scoffs. “Don’t worry about me, Sammy, I’m fine. I’m great! I’ve got an awesome boyfriend, a killer burger, and there’s a record shop right down the street with the original turquoise press of Led Zepplin.”

“Fine. But lunch is on you.”

“Bitch.”

“Jerk.”

Ten minutes later, with Sam back at his law firm pushing papers, Dean walks into the record shop that claims to have the rare masterpiece. It’s almost empty but for a few hipsters flipping through the bargain bins and the cashier scrolling on her phone. Dean practically bounces over to her.

“Got the turquoise Led Zepplin I called about?”

The girl at the counter--her nametag says Claire, but her hair says don’t talk to me--points toward a rack near the front where one guy is already browsing. “Only if you’re willing to fight for it.”

Dean immediately sees the garish turquoise letters of the rare Zepp record and launches himself after it with a curse. They were supposed to hold it for him! His hand closes around the edge just as the guy at the kiosk sees it and grabs the other side.

Dean glares up into bright blue eyes.

“Dude, let go. You have no idea what you’ve got here.”

Blue-eyes only tightens his grip. “I believe I do. And I’m leaving with it.”

“The hell you are. They were supposed to hold it for me!” Dean gives his edge a tug. 

“They you should’ve gotten here faster.” Blue-eyes tugs back. Before long, they both have each end of the record with both hands and are yanking on it as carefully as possible (it is old, after all) while glaring headedly at each other.

“Dude, seriously! You have no idea how long I’ve been looking for this!”

“You don’t know how long I’ve been looking!” Blue-eyes shouts back.

Dean growls and sidesteps, trying to slip the record out of the other guy’s grip, but Blue-eyes steps with him and they circle each other for a moment, eyes locked.

“Give it to me,” Blue-eyes demands.  

“No,” Dean replies with a pleasant smile.

“It’s important. I need it.”

“I need it! You probably just wanna put it on a shelf with a bunch of other old-ass records and let it get dusty! I bed you’ve never listened to Led Zepplin in your life!”

Color rises in Blue-eyes’s face, and for a horrible moment Dean thinks it’s attractive before he remembers his awesome boyfriend and the fact that this guy is a complete dick.

“It’s not for me,” Blue-eyes insists through gritted teeth. “Now let go!” He yanks hard on the edge.

Dean just manages to hold on and pull the record back towards his chest. “You let go!”

“No!”

Blue-eyes pulls up on the record, trying to dislodge Dean’s grip again, just as Dean gives another yank back. Dean swears confetti rains down from the ceiling as the edge slips completely out of Blue-eyes’s hands.

“Yes!” Dean shouts, holding the record up high. “Suck it!”

“No, dammit!” 

Dean looks back at Blue-eyes, ready to gloat, but then, well. He looks like he might cry. Aw, shit.

“Please, it’s really important,” he whimpers, and Dean doesn’t know if it’s an act or not, but it’s working. Dean’s a sucker for baby-blues. “I drove all the way from Lebanon to get this for my boyfriend’s birthday.”

Now Dean definitely feels bad. Lebanon is nearly five hours away.

“He’s been talking about it for days, I was going to show up and surpise him...”

“Look, I’m...I’m sorry,” Dean relents. He doesn’t let go of the record, though. Maybe they could work something out. “When’s his birthday?”

“Tomorrow.”

“Okay, so how about--” Dean pauses. “Wait, what’d you say?”

“His birthday? It’s tomorrow.”

Dean blinks. “January 24th.”

“Yeah...?”

“Your boyfriend.”

“Yes!” Blue-eyes snaps defensively.

Dean rakes his eyes across the other guy, taking in the bright blue eyes, disheveled hair, and thick pink lips. He swallows. “What’s his name?”

“...Dean.”

All the air is punched out of him. “Oh my god...” he squeaks. “Cas?”

The other guy--Cas, it’s Cas!--startles. His confused face is probably the most adorable thing Dean’s ever seen. “How do you know my name?”

Dean might hyperventilate. “Cas...” he points to himself. “Dean Winchester.”

Cas’s eyes squint--so fucking cute--then widen. “Dean?!”

“Cas!” He’s grinning so hard it hurts.

“Dean!” Then Cas is in his fucking arms and squeezing him so tight Dean thinks that bacon cheeseburger might come back up but he doesn’t even care because he’s squeezing Cas right back.

The record thumps to the floor.

“I can’t believe--”

“I know!”

“You were gonna--”

“I know!”

Cas pulls back, hands coming to Dean’s cheeks, and it’s not awkward at all as they take each other in for the first time.

“You’re even hotter in--”

Dean’s cut off by Cas’s lips pressing into his, and it. is. awesome.

Dean: sammy look its CAS!!!!! [picture attachment]

Sam: Thats great dean! Im engaged [picture attachment]

Dean: WHAT Y DIDNT U TELL ME

Sam: I DID TELL YOU YOU MORON BUT YOU WERE TOO BUSY WITH YOUR PHONE

Cas: Our meeting last week is on Instagram. Apparently the cashier was filming us.

Dean: WHAT. send a link

Cas: People think we should get married. :)