Word Count: 327
Piers sighs heavily before sitting on the couch beside his boyfriend. "Hear the rain?" he asks, gesturing toward the window which is being pelted roughly by raindrops. "I guess you're stuck here."
Dean snorts, eyes rolling. "You know we're neighbors, right? It takes maybe a minute to reach my door.'
Piers shrugs. "I don't make the rules," he says with a laugh. "Now. Fish and chips!"
At least Dean grabbed lunch before the storm hit. Piers' cousin-turned-guardian hasn't been to the market yet, and there isn't much to eat in the kitchen.
He's about to thank Dean, when he notices a glob of white. Dean dips a chip in the mayonnaise, eating it like it's perfectly normal. "Tell me the truth," Piers says, nose wrinkling in disgust. "How does it feel to be soulless?"
"Soulless?" Dean echoes, dipping another chip.
Piers nods. "That's the only reason I can think of that you would do… that." He gestures vaguely.
Dean laughs. "We've been going steady for two years, and you never knew I did this?"
"It ain't good form, you know," Piers huffs, plucking a chip from his tray. "You ought to be ashamed."
His boyfriend is unfazed. He just laughs again and shakes his head like Piers has made a joke. "That would require actually caring."
"You don't care that you've traumatized me?" Piers asks. "Any other weird food habits I should know about?"
"If toast is cut diagonally, I can't eat it." Dean shrugs. "Not sure if that's weird."
"It's definitely weird."
Another shrug. Dean dips another chip into the mayo before happily eating it, a look of pure bliss on his face as he chews. "You don't know what you're missing."
Piers just smiles and eats his fish. Dean can be pretty weird sometimes, but he's learned to see his eccentricities as endearing. At the end of the day, Dean means everything to him, and he wouldn't trade his mayonnaise-dipped chip eating for the world.