Work Text:
#167
“I hate you”
“Are you sure that’s not just the alcohol talking?”
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Dean threw back another shot, relishing the sting he felt as the liquor ran like fire through his veins, erasing thoughts that plagued him relentlessly. He had lost count of how much he had drunk by this point, and honestly he couldn’t have cared less. All he cared about was the mind-numbing bliss the alcohol provided. That said, the alcohol wasn’t doing its job the way it should because those thoughts were still running haywire in his brain.
It was driving him mad.
Those eyes.
That waist.
Those lips.
Dean shook his head clear before grabbing his beer and heading over to a booth. That way, at least he couldn’t tumble off his barstool and make a fool of himself. The hunter’s head sank down towards the table, resting heavily on the back of his hands, trying to stop the room spinning around him. When he looked up a few moments later, he saw a familiar figure in a trench coat stood at the bar.
Fan-fucking-tastic.
Castiel clearly hadn’t noticed him yet, but Dean had certainly seen the angel, and all rational thought fled his mind as he lurched his way over to Cas. Tapping him on the shoulder, Cas spun around to face Dean, green eyes meeting blue. Angry at the softness Dean saw in his friend’s face, he dragged the angel by the sleeve and took him outside the bar. He was just about level enough that he knew he didn’t want to make a scene and get chucked out.
“Dean,” Cas sighed with relief. “I have searched every bar in town for you, where have you been.”
“Why did you wanna find me so bad?” Dean slurred. “Why couldn’t you just butt out of things for once?”
Cas looked confused and slightly hurt. “What do you mean?” He asked, “I simply worried when you disappeared, I wished to ensure you were not in any kind of trouble.”
Dean scoffed and rolled his eyes. “You know what? You’re the trouble!” Cas looked surprised at this outburst but the hunter didn’t allow him the opportunity to interrupt. “No! You don’t get to just keep showing up with your posh words and your trench coat and your goddamn blue eyes and not notice anything!” Dean yelled, stepping close to Cas. "I hate you!"
"Are you sure that's not just the alcohol talking?" Cas asked, concern lacing his voice. Dean saw red.
"Where do you get off judging me like that? Is it funny for you, watching me fly off the rails?" Dean was practically whispering at this point, unable to be truly angry with the clueless look on the angel's face.
“What are you talking about Dean? I don’t understand-” Dean cut Cas off with a press of lips on lips, chapped meeting soft. He immediately went to pull back, fearing that he had made a mistake, but then he got lost in the sensation of finally kissing the angel. Tired of the cautious pecks from Dean, as sweet as they were, Cas decided it was time to take over.
Bringing his hands to the hunter’s waist, he turned them around and pushed so that Dean’s back was firmly against the wall, and Dean let go of the feelings he had been keeping locked up since they first met in that barn.
Cas pulled back needing breath, and Dean used this moment to flip them round so that the angel was the one backed up against the wall. He leaned back in to reclaim Cas’ lips, unable to get enough of the dark-haired man. He got a thrill realising that he could now do this as often as he wanted.
Cas’ tongue traced the other man’s lower lip, requesting entrance. Dean opened his mouth to Cas and their tongues met in a battle for dominance. Cas tugged lightly on Dean’s lower lips, causing the man to emit a noise that he would forever deny making, and Cas used his moment of distraction to return them to their original position, Dean pressed harshly against the wall.
The angel separated his lips from Dean’s and started trailing kisses along the hunter’s jaw line and down his neck. He paused at the hollow just under Dean’s jaw bone that seemed to make the man highly responsive. He bit and sucked at the point, before leaving a soothing kiss over the point, wanting to mark Dean as his.
It was impossible to tell how long they would have gone on like that had the next unpredictable event not happened.
Coming round the corner, both of the men recognised their brothers hand in hand giggling like idjits. Gabriel began kissing Sam’s neck, before the younger Winchester noticed Cas and Dean barely three feet from them.
“Gabe,” he muttered, tapping the Archangel to get his attention. The Trickster looked up, and for a moment both couples were frozen, unsure what to say to one another.
“Well,” Cas coughed awkwardly. “This is a rather unexpected turn of events.” Gabe nodded.
“Agreed, and as much as I would love to stick around and chat, Sammy and I have much better things to be doing than making idle chit-chat. As I see you clearly do too. Ciao.”
With that, Gabe zapped himself and Sam somewhere else, once again leaving Cas and Dean alone.
“Well then,” Dean smirked, rounding on the angel. “Where were we?”