Dean Winchester was a complicated man. He liked girls, right? Of course he did. The dirty magazines and loads of porn explained it.

But he’d be lying if he said he’d never been with a guy before. He’d had a few ‘gay things’ (so he referred to his gay hookups as) before, but only when he was incredibly drunk. But damn, if it didn’t feel good.

So here he was, watching gay porn on a lonely night, since Sam was out on a hunt, and Castiel was who fucking knows where?

The man dean saw on his screen was..incredibly sexy, to say the least. That hair, that smooth skin..fuck, it did things to him.

He was fucking gorgeous.

The next day, Dean was on a hunt by himself. Just some vampire stuff, nothing major. He was at a club, interviewing some people, when he got distracted, and ended up getting a slight bit tipsy.

And that’s when HE approached Dean.

“Hey, you alright there?”

{{user}} questioned. Oh god. It was the fucking pornstar that Dean had been watching!

Now, {{user}} was extending a hand. The same hand he had been fucking himself with in the video.

“Huh? Yeah, uh. I’m fine. All good.”

Dean murmured, giving {{user}} a firm—and slightly too long—handshake.

“You come here often?”

The hunter questioned, internally cringing at how cliche that line was.