Ignoring the inconsistencies with their timelines, I want Cordell and Dean to meet.
I want Dean taking a case on his own in Texas for whatever reason. Maybe it’s pre season one while Sam is at Stanford, or one of the times they fought and separated for a short while, or maybe Dean just took off on his own and left Sam at the bunker to rest. What’s important is that Dean ends up in Geri’s bar.
I want him seeing Cordell from across the room and swearing that he looks like Sam, only older. Maybe even older than him. I want him shocked, speechless.
Then I want a definitely fucked up and wrong idea to form in Dean’s head that leads to him deciding to approach Cordell. Dean using some cheesy pick up line and Cordell smiling in amusement. It’s the same smile Sam has. I want them sitting down and talking, becoming interested in one another. Sure, Dean compares everything to Sam, especially the differences—Cordell has a southern accent, he’s a Texas ranger, he’s got kids—but Dean doesn’t mind too much since he starts to like the man for more than just the similar looks to his brother. It’s still the appearance that drives him, but he reasons it’s okay. A lot of people try to pick up people solely for their looks—who cares if the guy he’s after looks like his brother?
I want them drinking together until the bar is nearly deserted, until Cordell is mumbling about feeling lonely while Dean slurs about loving someone he can’t have. I want Cordell making the first move—something Dean’s not used to—and it’s different than how he’d imagine Sam would do things, but there’s nothing that could make him resist. Well, there’s one thing—one person—but he’s not there. It’s a good alternative.
I want sloppy kisses and lots of grabbing and groping and Dean breathlessly suggesting the backseat of his car. I want Cordell going willingly letting Dean drag him out the bar door and allowing Dean to push him onto his back in the backseat of the Impala.
I want their naked, sweaty bodies pressed together with Dean on top of Cordell, his hips slotted between his long legs. Dean taking his time to work the man up, to get him desperate and begging in the way he’d always longed to hear from Sam. I want Cordell savoring the intimacy and the touch because damn, it’s been so long since he’d felt like this, since he’s felt good.
I want them coming together—Cordell spilling on his own stomach and Dean filling him up—with a deep moan from both. I want Dean biting his lip until it bleeds to fight back the desire to groan out Sam’s name. I want Dean collapsing on Cordell’s chest and the two of them laying pressed together for what feels like hours.
I want Cordell blushing when he walks a little funny climbing out of the Impala, while Dean wears a smug smile because he knows he wrecked the man perfectly. I want Dean giving Cordell his number, which he happily takes. He puts the contact in as “Winchester Auto” because, well, it seems to fit with the car and all. It’s something between an inside joke and a secret.
I want Dean watching Cordell drive away in his truck, while he gets back into the Impala and drives away. I want them both thinking about each other as distance is put between them, and a part of both Cordell and Dean wanting to go back to one another. Maybe they each hope the other man could fill the emptiness they feel…
So anyway yeah, I want them to meet.
