Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural.
Bars; the coalescence of all vice and sin. Where the establishment feeds on man's darker urges and profits from it.
The smell of sweat hangs in the air. Mixed in with the clouds of smoke drifting between the milling bodies of customers and employees. Puddles of spilt drink cake the floor and bar, catching at skin, sleeves, glass, and soles alike as they rest on the sullied surface.
You can hear the air fill with the cacophony of voices, music, the scraping and crashing of chairs, glass on wood, maybe even the cracks of a round of pool… Amongst the sensory overload is a fantastic place to gather info under the guise of a good time. A few drinks, maybe a bite to eat, and the world of nightlife will embrace you.
"So, remind me, again, why we're in a gay bar?"
The uncomfortable question came from the edge of the room at a table where two men sat. It was the taller of the pair that had brought it up.
"You're pretty smart, Sammy." The speaker glanced around to the bar with hard green eyes and took a casual pull of his beer.
His companion shifted uncomfortably. "Look, I get this thing seems to pick his targets in places like… this… But, there's nothing to suggest he'll show up here." He looked desperate and uneasy as the bodies around them moved about.
Some couples at the bar were having a good time, laughing and drinking loudly. There were more groups around the fringes making out. It wasn't like he had a problem with gays, he dealt with the assumption that the two of them were gay quite often. That was the problem. Men all around them had been casting envious stares their way all night, some were more discreet than others.
"Just a feeling." He huffed as he watched his brother pop a handful of barnuts into his mouth.
"I wish you would've picked a better time to act on your 'feelings'." Dean shot him an odd look and Sam smirked vaguely.
His look shifted into an unamused glare from over the bottom of his nearly empty bottle. As he lowered his drink to make a remark, a third person joined the table.
"This place is remarkable." Castiel's deep voice drew their attention away from the brewing argument as he took his place between them. "Dean, there's a man over there who knew I was an angel."
The two brothers stared at Cas in wary shock as he made his report. Sam seemed further ill at ease, and even Dean appeared a bit concerned as they shared a look across the table.
"And how, exactly, did he know you're an angel, Cas?" If someone knew about Castiel, it was possible that they were aware of the Winchester boys' presence and that could complicate things.
Cas, for his part, seemed to catch on to the severity of the situation. He eyed both of them seriously as he leaned in close and they followed suit, prepared to listen.
Gravely, he informed them, "he told me he was allergic to feathers." Then he reclined back as if to build the tension. "And then he ran to the restroom. His being near me must have triggered an allergic response that necessitated the use of the nearby facilities."
With that, Cas crossed his arms and settled further into his chair to allow the two hunters to discuss this development. As he watched, they both seemed unsure on how to approach the issue.
"I propose we kill him." He eyed Dean worriedly as his offer caused him to choke on his alcohol. Sam seemed caught between emotions.
"We can't do that."
"Why? I seems to be a reasonable solution—" His reasoning was cut of by Dean's hacking laughter and rough pounding on his chest as he attempted to clear his airway. The younger Winchester took the interruption as an opportunity to formulate an explanation.
"Uhh…"
Or perhaps not.
"It's" Dean wheezed, not quite fully recovered, "it's a—" Another cough. " Dammit, pick-up line! It's a pick-up line, Cas. Not a bad one, either," he acknowledged as he cleared his throat, seeming to be finally over his fit.
Right about the time Castiel was about to inquire about the discovery, another person slipped up to the table.
Flirtatiously, he smiled at them. "So this is where he flew off to. I'm not interrupting anything I hope?"
Middle aged, balding, reeking of alcohol and vomit, Sam and Dean were immediately on edge. Especially as the newcomer giggled effeminately and leaned against the chair Cas occupied.
"Ah," the angel looked unsettled as he stared at the close proximity and felt the tenseness from the siblings. "I'd advise against further contact between us, as it might aggravate your allergy."
The man crooned, "aren't you just too cute and naive! Mind if I join you handsome devils?" He winked but Cas looked confused and offended.
"I don't think that would be a good idea," Sam warned.
"Oh, come on now," the man pouted and Dean visibly shuddered. "It looks like you fellows could use another wheel on your wagon. Or maybe, I could take this one off your hands…"
While Sam frowned at the perverse smile on the man's face, Dean stared down the hand that was working it's way across Castiel's shoulders. He noticed the dark look Cas was offering the air and leapt to action.
"Hey, look you son of a bitch, you certainly ain't acting like you know how to treat an angel. Why don't you sink your unholy fingers into someone else's skin?" The disarming smile he had been wearing fell off of his face as a pair of haunting black eyes flashed at him.
"You mean like yours?"
Everything happened in a mad rush after that. Suddenly, the demon grabbed Dean and smashed their lips together with brutal, teeth cracking force. Sam and Castiel were up and struggling to pry the two apart, instantly. The demon let loose easily enough, but it took interference by the staff to really settle things. Security came from nowhere and made sure the two stayed separate and Dean wouldn't retaliate. After a brief moment, the possessed man offered a smug grin and turned to be led out by the hefty bouncers.
A concerned, flamboyant bartender stayed with Dean and fussed over him. He inspected every inch of Dean's face with a careful eye and a flush on his face. Behind him, Sam eyed them warily. Dean was simmering and trying to be patient with the man, but it was obvious he was more than ready to go after the bastard.
Neither of them had noticed Cas excuse himself quietly. They didn't even notice the distinct lack of the celestial being's presence until they had finally convinced the handsy barman that everything was fine.
"Where's Cas?" Dean demanded as he viciously gargled the glass of whiskey he had been offered on the house. "Damnit, it's gonna take a hell of a long time to get that shitty taste offa me." He shook himself and drug his palm across his mouth, then the side of his hand, as if that would do anything.
"You're the one that wanted to come to the gay bar." Sam supplied.
Dean merely spit aggressively and sent a scathing look at his facetious younger brother.
"Let's go find Cas."
They searched around the block with no sign of either Castiel or the demon he'd obviously gone in search of. It was getting late and Dean kept spitting and wiping his mouth on any surface he didn't think he'd covered yet. Unfortunately, Sam wasn't safe either.
"Dude!" He stared at the patch of his jacket Dean had decided to use as a napkin with disdain.
"What? That son of a bitch tasted foul! And it's not like you haven't been covered in demon spit before anyway." Sam stopped and scowled at his brother as he continued to search for Cas, spitting now and then. He decided not to say anything and rejoined the search.
After over an hour, they had still failed to find the wayward angel. Luckily, he found them.
"There you are!" Dean cried, exasperated, as Cas stepped out from an alleyway and strode over to the awaiting pair. "Did you gank the bastard?" He demanded sourly.
"Yes," Castiel confirmed. "I have avenged your honor."
"Right, thanks…"
Castiel frowned. "Your appreciation seems sarcastic."
"Yeah, well, sorry. I guess getting molested by a homosexual, demonic, jackass has me feeling a little violated." He spat caustically, testily eying the direction Cas had come from. An odd cough came from Sam, who was attempting to cover his wry amusement at the situation.
Cas turned his frown to the tall, laughing, brother briefly. Something seemed to be working behind his outstandingly blue eyes. His attention returned to Dean who was caught between wiping his nearly raw lips and trying to come up with yet unthought of ways to get back at his asshole brother.
He was about to say something particularly nasty to the humored man, when a pair of surprisingly soft lips pressed firmly against his own. In reaction, he tensed. His hands came up reflexively, whether to grab something or push away, it wasn't clear. It wasn't a bad sensation, odd, though, definitely odd. In front of him, Castiel's face was too blurry and dark to distinguish; although, just on the other side of the ear obscuring his vision, Dean could make out a bemused Sam, before Cas pulled back and regained his attention.
"What was that?" Dean demanded, a bit hoarsely.
"I'm sanctifying you." Was the weird reply he got as once again his mouth was taken. He wasn't sure how to respond as his back met with the brick wall of the building they had been standing by. It wasn't until Sam grunted awkwardly and Dean opened his eyes that he realized he had been making out with a male angel, in an alley, in front of his brother.
Cas backed up a few steps and Dean pushed off of the wall. "I guess I better be glad I wasn't violated anywhere else." He cleared his throat in a weak attempt to dispel the heavy aura hovering around them.
"We don't have to let that stop us…"
A/N: I'm sorry. I have no explanation. One minute I have a blank page and then I have this…. And now I'm in the Supernatural fandom…. Hi. *waves awkwardly*
Wool
