So this started out as a quick, silly one shot idea. It has now multiplied into a series. I have no idea how many fics there will be but I can guarantee at least one more, if not two or three. They will probably remain fairly silly because, let's face it, Supernatural needs some silliness! :-D.
Dean woke up on the floor.
There was a constant, painful throb pounding away behind his eyes and the taste of lime and something...else. It wasn't the tequila...or the salt...Dean groaned and lifted one hand to his head. Thinking hurt.
He was lying face down by the table. The nearly empty bottle of alcohol was nearby, along with what was left of the limes and a tipped shaker of salt. He remembered sitting on the floor with Cas...taking turns with shots...
Dean opened his eyes.
Cas was curled up on the floor next to him. As far as he could tell, the angel had actually fallen asleep, using his coat as a pillow. He looked peaceful, content.
His hand was resting over Dean's.
It came back to him all at once. Cas licking the salt from his neck, the kiss. They'd necked like teenagers for almost half an hour before Dean had passed out. The angel had learned fast. Reaching up with his free hand, Dean touched a tender spot on his throat where Castiel had left what he was sure was one hell of a hickey.
Okay. So he'd made out with an angel. An angel in a male form, no less.
In a moment of complete panic, Dean yanked his hand out from under Castiel's and ran down the stairs.
It occurred to him about half way down that his head hurt way too much for this and that his body hadn't really regained anything even resembling coordination. He practically fell down the last few steps and right into Sam, who caught him as he lost his balance.
"Dean?" Sam braced his hands against Dean's shoulders and pushed him gently back. His eyes were so full of concern that Dean felt sick. "You've been drinking, haven't you?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, with Cas. Find anything?"
Sam shook his head. "No, nothing. Cas was with you?"
Dean nodded again, thinking frantically of something to say to avoid the subject. He felt Sam's fingers brush his neck and saw that concern somehow thicken. It was amazing how much of the emotion Sam could pack into his gaze.
Dean slapped his hand away and took several steps towards the kitchen. "Nothin', bruise," he said quickly.
Sam followed him. "Really? Because it looks like a hickey."
The Hunter yanked open the fridge and dug frantically for a beer. When he turned Sam was watching him, all concern melted into something much closer to suspicious amusement. "What? It's a bruise!" Dean barked. He took a swig of his beer and stomped with childish anger to the living room.
Bobby glanced up wearily from yet another ancient, leather bound book (this brought the tally to, what, twenty?) as the brothers walked in. "I see you decided to stick around," he drawled.
"He got drunk with Cas," Sam said. That amusement was now evident in his voice.
Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Sam tilt his head towards his older brother and give Bobby a pointed look. It took him all of two seconds to see the mark on Dean's neck. The Hunter had to force himself not to tug his collar up over it self consciously.
"Nice hickey you got there," Bobby said, eyebrows reaching for his hairline in a mixed expression of mirth and confusion. To Sam, "How'd he get a girl in here?"
"He didn't," Sam said with a wide grin. Dean frowned at him; if Sammy was suspecting what he thought he was suspecting, shouldn't he have been reacting in the negative? "He was drinking. With Cas."
Bobby snorted. He reacted no further, merely looked back down at his book. "Where is Cas?"
"Upstairs," Dean muttered. "Sleeping. Which is weird, are angels supposed to sleep?"
Sam shrugged as he pulled up a chair in front of Bobby's desk. "He is kind of falling. Why don't you go check on him?" He said it casually but Dean could see his shoulders shaking with barely controlled laughter.
"Dude, what the hell?!" Dean finally blurted, his tone more perplexed than angry.
Sam sniggered, very quietly, though when he twisted to look at Dean over his shoulder his expression was perfectly neutral. "What? I'm just concerned, there might be something wrong."
"The hell you are," Dean grouched.
He went back upstairs.
Once there, Dean stood in the doorway and just...stared. Cas was still curled up where he'd left him, only now he didn't look quite so content. His hand was stretched out where Dean had been and there was a tiny frown on his face. The Hunter took another, long swig of his beer and told himself to calm down. He'd been drunk and Cas didn't know any better.
Feeling suddenly bone weary, Dean sank down on the floor and leaned back against the wall just a few feet from Castiel's sleeping form. He set the beer down, thinking he probably shouldn't have been drinking it in the first place, and thought back over...had it been last night? Or just a few hours?
Dean had never been a black-out drunk. Things might be a little fuzzy but, in general, he remembered just fine. In particular he remembered Cas sitting beside him, staring shyly at the floor after licking the salt from his neck. Did that mean he had known what he was doing? Had he been hoping something would happen, or had it just been as random for him as it had been for Dean?
Suddenly, with unusual ferocity, Dean had to know.
"Cas!" Dean reached over and gripped the angel's shoulder, shaking him hard. "Wake up!"
So smoothly that he might have already been awake, Castiel's eyes opened. He sat up while Dean snatched his hand back. The angel glanced at his coat, then at Dean with a tiny, confused frown. "Was I sleeping?"
Dean nodded. "Yeah. Yeah, um...Look, about earlier..."
Cas's gaze dropped and he smiled that tiny smile that made his eyes light up like the damn sun. Dean just stared; okay, he had to stop doing that! Apparently the look didn't only affect him while he was drunk. The expression made him want to grin, or maybe kiss him senseless all over again.
Shit. When had this happened? He didn't remember wanting to do anything like this before! Maybe he was still drunk. Yeah, that was it. He was still drunk.
"It wasn't like that with Chastity," Castiel said quietly. "I felt uncomfortable. Wrong."
Who the hell was Chastity? Oh, right, blond girl at the, as Cas had so eloquently put it, den of iniquity. "Cas, ah...have you, you know...wanted that for a while?" he said the last quickly and realized forlornly that he couldn't still be drunk, or this wouldn't be so awkward.
"Yes." He said it so easily, so matter-of-factly. He lifted his head and finally met Dean's eyes. "But last night was the first time you seemed open to the idea."
"Look, Cas...I was drunk." Dean tried his best to avoid that expressive gaze, feeling rotten even as he spoke. Poor Cas, he thought, he hadn't meant to knock him down like this. "People do weird things when they're drunk. It didn't mean anything."
Castiel cocked his head and, to Dean's surprise, smiled again. "I don't believe you."
The angel shifted onto his knees and brought his hands up to Dean's shoulders. "I don't believe you," He repeated, and leaned in to kiss him.
Without the alcohol dulling his senses Dean expected the kiss to disgust him. Instead, it sent delightful little tingles shivering all throughout his body, making the experience far more vivid than it had been before. A quiet groan escaped the Hunter and he reached up to cup the back of Castiel's head, locking him into place with more force than he would have used had the angel been female. Or just plain human. The thought should have scared him but it only served to turn him on so thoroughly that he ended up yanking the angel down into his lap.
It was the end of the world. What the hell did he have to lose?
When they pulled apart they were both breathless. Castiel was sprawled partially across Dean's legs and didn't look like he planned on going anywhere any time soon. He leaned his forehead against Dean's, then suddenly frowned slightly and lifted his hand to Dean's neck.
"I'm sorry," he murmured. "I didn't mean to bruise you."
Dean chuckled. "S'okay. For someone who never even kissed before you sure pick things up fast."
Cas continued to brush his fingers over the hickey, his expression darkly satisfied and slightly confused. "I wanted to...leave a mark. Maybe I did mean to. Does it hurt?"
"Nah. I'll show you."
Dean lunged forward and sealed his lips against the angel's neck, sucking for all he was worth. Castiel pressed against his mouth and let out a low, keening sound that almost drove Dean crazy right there on the spot. He'd never heard a sound quite like it and it made him wonder if it was special to the angel.
"See?" Dean murmured against his neck. "Doesn't hurt."
Sam chose that moment to come bursting through the door.
"Ah ha!" the younger Hunter crowed. A huge grin split his face and Dean just knew he'd been lurking outside the door. "I TOLD you I was right, Bobby!" Sam yelled down the stairs.
"What? You're makin' it up!" came the reply.
"I am not! Cas is sitting in his lap!"
"Maybe he fell over!"
"He did not!" Sam whipped around to stare intently at Castiel. "Cas? Did you fall?"
Dean looked up at him pleadingly but Cas, ever the honest angel, shook his head. "No."
Growling a little in irritation, Dean turned to stare at Sam instead. "Wait, you're okay with this?"
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, why not? It's not like we lead normal lives, Dean."
Okay, he had him there, but...wasn't he at least a little surprised? When he asked this Sam grinned widely and said "I always said you were too butch!" before fleeing back down the stairs before Dean could get out from under Castiel and kill him.
"Was I supposed to pretend that I fell?" Cas asked once Sam had gone.
Slapping his hands over his eyes, Dean laughed helplessly and just shook his head. "Nah. It doesn't matter."
"Good." Cas leaned in and kissed him again and Dean decided to pretend that nothing existed outside of the angel's lips.
It was exceedingly easy to do.