Dean Winchester had flown on an airplane exactly once in his entire life.
He’d always known he didn’t trust the things, but once the noises started and the turbulence really decided to steal the spotlight, his lungs seized up and he was ninety-nine percent sure that he had, in fact, been the recipient of a heart attack right then and there.
Nothing would ever come close to that level of sheer adrenaline and panic - but now, sitting a few tables away from Him and fiddling with a piece of paper that his own number pre-written on it… he was starting to feel dangerously close to the sky again.
Rejection was… fine. It was fine.
Hell, this wouldn’t be the first time he’d ever been rejected and it probably wouldn’t be the last - but that was all a territory he was familiar with.
Dean had been out as bisexual for a solid year at this point, and while he was pretty damn confident in himself about most things, he hadn’t done this yet.
He let out a breath and stole another glance at the man who’d nearly made him trip over himself the first time they made brief eye contact in the hallway.
Blue eyes had never felt so blue.
The guy was currently in Library Mode, as Dean had been fondly calling it in his head. His hair was adorable frazzled as he poured over a mountain of books and the wrinkled graphic-tee he sometimes wore was a reference Dean didn’t understand - and if he chewed on his lip any more often Dean was going be one hundred percent sure of another heart attack.
There was also Lunch Mode.
The Lunch Mode of his favorite blue-eyed man was a more put-together version of Library Mode. His hair was combed back neatly, and he would mostly wear button-up shirts and slacks, or occasionally a very nicely pressed sweater vest.
Dean’s current theory between the two Modes was that he had a class on certain days that he was supposed to dress up for and couldn’t be bothered when he didn’t have go in.
He liked that theory, because it meant that maybe Library Mode was the true self - and Dean really liked the endearing intensity from Library Mode.
Dean licked his lips as he ran a finger along the paper he’d ripped from his notebook - the one with his number on it - and replayed the scenario in his head over and over.
I’ll just go over, say something witty, give him the number, and walk away. Yeah. I can do that. Simple enough.
Dean closed the book he’d only been pretending to read and stood up.
Library Mode briefly glanced in his direction from behind his fortress of books, and Dean turned on his heels and walked out of the library.
Next time. He’d do it next time.
Next time was Lunch Mode.
Dean was barely picking at the food he’d brought as he tried not to creepily stare at the man he’d become infatuated with over the past few months.
He didn’t even know his name.
And that’s why you’re going to go talk to him, you fucking idiot, he told himself. He’s just a guy. The worst he can say is no.
Dean swallowed, and looked up again.
Lunch Mode had product in his hair and a sweater vest on today. He looked as good as always, though Dean did find himself missing the graphic tee and the mussed hair just a little. He’d always thought he seemed a little bit more approachable when he was panicking in the library along with everyone else.
Dean stood with intent for the second time that week and before the rapid beating of his heart could do anything to persuade him otherwise, Dean strode over to Lunch Mode’s table and plastered on a smile he hoped didn’t look as manic as he felt.
Lunch Mode looked up, tilting his head to the side adorably.
“Can I help you?” He asked.
“Uh, yes,” he fumbled for the paper and set it down next to the plate of food, “this is for you.”
Dean paused, trying to think of something - anything clever to say, but nothing came.
Instead, he nodded and walked out of the lunchroom.
Hey! This is Jimmy from lunch! I just wanted to say that I respect your confidence to be able to come up and give me your number. You’re very attractive, but unfortunately I am straight. BUT I am an identical twin and he’s gay if you’d like his number.
Dean stared at the text message, his face growing more and more red with every passing minute.
Was it rude to say yes? Was it ruder to say no? Did he want to yes or did he just want to go and dig a hole and bury himself in it for the rest of eternity?
He continued to stare at the message.
This was… technically the best possible outcome for a rejection, right? A soft no, but also a possibility with someone who looked just like him.
Dean shook his head in disbelief.
Oh god, sorry dude. But uh, honestly? Yeah that’ll work haha.
Dean sent it before he could overthink it.
A few minutes later, he received a text from a different number.
Dean’s heart jumped into his throat as he slung his backpack over one shoulder and began walking down a school hallway, just to have something to do to get rid of all of his nervous energy.
Ha. Yeah. Are you the twin?
“The twin”. Fuck, he should have said something better.
I am the twin. If this…makes you uncomfortable I understand, you know. You don’t need to text me to be polite to my brother.
Was he a little worried about what the twin was going to be like? A little, but it wasn’t like he knew Jimmy all that well anyway. All he knew about Jimmy was that sometimes he liked a good graphic tee, and sometimes he liked to dress up a little.
Nah, it’s just funny. You go to the same school as us?
I do. I’m in the library if you’re on campus.
Dean let out a steadying breath.
Sitting at his usual table, were two identical-looking men.
One in a sweater vest with his hair slicked back, and one in a wrinkled t-shirt and jacket with hair that looked as if fingers had been stressfully combing through it for years.
The twins looked up at his arrival, and the better dressed one, Jimmy, smiled.
“Ah, I’ll leave you guys to it, then.”
He winked at the two of them as Dean’s brain was still scrambling to put together rest of the incredibly obvious puzzle it should have been able to see all along.
The messier twin cleared his throat awkwardly.
“Ah, hello.” He said, in a voice much lower than Jimmy’s but he couldn’t tell if it was just from disuse. “I’ve seen you around before, haven’t I?”
“There’s two of you.” Dean said, with dawning comprehension. “You’re the - there’s two.”
The twin smiled like this wasn’t the first time this had happened.
“Correct. I’m Castiel, by the way.”
Dean slowly sat down on the other side of the table and stuck out a hand once he could gather himself enough to smile in return.
“Nice to finally meet you, Castiel. I’m Dean, and I’m an idiot.”
Castiel took the offered hand and shook it once.
“Hello, Dean. Luckily for you, I like idiots.”
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