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Summary
“Wait, so… You need me to—” Cas floundered, his brow somehow more furrowed than usual. It was cute, even at a couple inches tall on his phone screen.
Dean swallowed around the lump in his throat and regretted not downing more liquid courage first. It would’ve been easier if he were a bit more drunk, or maybe if he’d called Cas normally instead of going straight for video just so he could see his grumpy little face. But there he was, already committed to asking. It was time to bite the bullet. “I need you to pretend to be my husband for a game show.”