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formative moments

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„Oh my god, it’s him!“ Gabriel whispers loud enough for the elderly couple next to them to turn their heads.

Cas looks up from his phone. “Who?”

Gabe flaps his left hand against Cas’ shoulder, the other one pointing to the counter. “The barista, Cas, that’s him, isn’t it?”

Cas follows the outstretched index finger of his older brother and freezes. 

It is him. 

His brain screeches to a full stop for one, two, three seconds.

It’s the underwear model from the fashion catalogue his mom got every few months. Cas blushes while cold sweat break out on his neck. He didn’t know his body could do that. 

There are still ten or more people waiting in front of them. Cas counts it as a small blessing that he’s not standing eye to eye with the man he spent half his teenage years jerking off to. He shoots his brother a look. Gabe grins from ear to ear. Cas realizes in a moment of perfect clarity that won’t get out of this, even if every fiber of his body screams at him to run and never come back. 

“You gotta say something,” Gabe stage-whispers. 

“No, I will not. I’m sure I can get some kind of sexual gratification just from staring at him if I try hard enough. It worked fine before,” Cas shoots back, sharp even as he’s trying to keep his voice down. “And you won’t say anything either.” 

Gabe scratches his chin as if he’s seriously considering it, but shakes his head. “Sorry, bro, no can do. This is too delicious.”

The line creeps forward, and Cas goes through at least five circles of hell. The barista prepares coffees with graceful efficiency, a smile and a few kind words for every customer. He’s older now, but the years did not diminish his appeal. Laugh lines surround his stunning green eyes, his shoulders are wider and his middle a little bit softer than in Cas’ memory. He’s still the most gorgeous man Cas has ever seen. 

All too soon, it’s their turn. 

“One mocha frappucino with extra caramel sirup and one coffee, black.” Gabe places their usual order like he did a thousand times before. For a second, Cas dares to hope that his brother will respect his wish and let the matter rest. 

He has no such luck. 

“My brother is a big fan of yours,” Gabriel says casually while the barista prepares their drinks. 

The face that haunted Cas’ dreams for years scrunches up in confusion. “I’m sorry?”

“You used to be an underwear model, didn’t you?” 

Confusion gives way to understanding, but the smile is cool and professional. “Yeah, I’m surprised anyone remembers that. Putting your brother through college isn’t cheap – we do what we gotta do, huh?”

Oh no, he assumes we judge him for that, Cas thinks with something bordering on panic. Usually he has better filters, but the sheer absurdity of the situation makes him say the next words. 

“You made me realize that I’m gay.” 

The answering silence is deafening. 

Someone clears their throat. 

Gabe stares at Cas wide-eyed, and the expression on the barista’s face is nothing short of shocked.  

The blush Cas tried to wrangle down before comes back with full force. Did he just come out to a packed coffee-shop? Did he really just share one of his most intimate secrets? Wishing fervently the floor would open up and swallow him, he holds the barista’s gaze like a lifeline. Something moves in the green depths. Humor, empathy, and warmth. 

“That’s –“ The man shakes his head. “That’s one of the weirdest compliments I’ve ever gotten.” He grins. “Thank you for telling me.” 

He adds the sirup to Gabe’s coffee and asks over his shoulder. “Your names?”

Cas struggles to compose himself. His voice is only slightly trembling when he answers. “The abomination you are currently preparing is for my brother, Gabriel, and the real coffee is for me. I’m Cas.”

The barista chuckles. Cas’ knees go weak from the sight of his strong back shaking with laughter. It’s a strange feeling – all the indecent thoughts he had about this man growing up, all the fantasies are as fresh as when he was fourteen. The memories crash right into the present, form a layer over the scene in front of him. Desire stirs deep in his gut, and wars with the shame from the past and the humiliation he just experienced. 

He has to get out of here. When the coffee is ready, he nods a quick thank you in the direction of the barista, grabs his cup and leaves the shop at a brisk pace. Once outside, he feels like he’s getting the first lungful of air again after holding his breath for too long. He slows down and sighs heavenward. The fresh autumn breeze clears his head a little. 

When Gabe catches up with him, Cas pokes a finger in his chest. “You–!”

Gabe gesticulates with one arm, careful not to spill a drop of his hideous concoction. “Me? I wasn’t the one who told a room full of strangers about my gay awakening!”

Cas runs a hand down his face. Gabe has a point. “I did that, didn’t I?” 

He lifts his coffee: God, he really hopes that it’s good enough to make up for this disaster of a morning. His gaze catches on something scribbled onto the side of the cup. 

Swayze, Point Break, 1991

Cas stares at it for long seconds, recognizing the note for the gift it is. Apparently he isn’t the only one with a formative moment. He turns the cup in his hands, hoping against all hope–


Call me? Dean