Fate

FATE {wincest}

Dean Smith and Sam Wesson didn't meet purely by chance. If Dean hadn't decided to get a hot chocolate late that one evening, they would have never met at all. So Dean likes to think fate brought them together. That fate had convinced Dean that he should drink that last hot chocolate Thursday, and not wait until Friday, just so he can swoop into Cas' Coffee to grab one. That fate compelled Sam to visit the coffee shop every night to visit his friends Cas' shop before retiring for the night. And that fate made Dean such an accepting person when it came to love.

*

It was a was an accident, that's all it was to Dean. At the time, Dean couldn't believe in any other reason. He called knocking into the beautiful young woman and splattering a full cup of scalding hot chocolate onto her chance. "Oh," she gasped, the dark liquid soaking into her white cardigan.

"I'm so sorry," Dean said, turning around to grab at the cream colored napkins settled neatly on the counter. He bunched them up in his hand, blushing furiously as he turned back to the woman and handed them to her.

"It's fine." Her voice sounded oddly deep for a woman's voice, but Dean was entranced by the smoothness of it. It sent shocks of sparks down his spine, made his head a fuzzy and his stomach erupt in a frenzy of madly fluttering butterflies. At that moment, Dean knew this woman was something special. "I needed to get a new cardigan anyway. This one is at least two years old," She giggled, removing the cardigan to inspect her shirt. It was maroon colored, with a lacy black fringe. Surprisingly there were no stains on it. Dean sighed, smiling.

Just as he was about to ask her out, Dean's breath caught in his throat. She looked up at him, her hazel eyes capturing Dean and imprisoning him in one hopelessly innocent bat of her eye. "I..." Dean could barely get out the words out, "Would you ever consider going out with me?" he asked shyly, his smiling becoming less confident. This girl whom he didn't even know the name of was making him blush, stutter and so unsure about himself he felt sick. He hadn't ever felt this way. With anyone.

*

Sam blinked. He couldn't understand why this man was asking him out. He didn't look gay in the slightest. Then Sam realized he was currently Samantha. This man (who was stunningly handsome) wasn't asking him out, he was asking her out. Samantha. This didn't happen very often. Men didn't really find Samantha attractive because she was too masculine (at least that was what they thought). But Sam didn't think he was that masculine. He thought of himself as a beautiful, brunette women with the most stunning hazel eyes, tan skin, and petite body.

"You don't even know my name, silly," Sam said, blushing. This man was so beautiful, yet here he was asking out little transvestite Sammy. Unknowingly of course, but Sam was overlooking that certain fact, too caught up at the moment. "It's Samantha Wesson."

"Samantha," Dean repeated dreamily. "Pretty. My name is Dean Smith."

Samantha giggled again. "I'll go on a date with you, Dean."

Dean smiled. He was worrying for nothing.

*

They had decided to have a the date at the coffee shop because, well, why not? It was the place they had first met, and it was a gorgeous building. Everything was cheap but delicious--the perfect place for a first date. But the location wasn't what had Dean's stomach in knots. It was the girl he was going on the date with a girl. Samantha.

She was like an angel on earth. Every day since last Friday he thought of her and immediately became light headed. Samantha was too beautiful, too breathtaking, for Dean to think about without getting a little dizzy. Her smile, her giggle, the sparkle in her eyes ... Dean was already smitten, and they hadn't even gone out on the date yet.