A/N: This is my first Supernatural fic, and I've not seen every episode yet, so this is probably going to be old news to you guys, for an episode that's been out for so long, but I couldn't help but write my own version of what might have happened. This takes place towards the end of 5x03, Free to Be You and Me, and some lines (in the first bit) are taken directly from the episode.
"What about you?" Castiel asked, looking over to the hunter sat in the driver's seat beside him.
"What about me? I don't know. Honestly, I'm good. I can't believe I'm saying that, but I am, I'm really good." Dean replied honestly, because he was actually feeling good for the first time in a long time.
"Even without your brother?"
"Especially without my brother. I mean, I spent so much time worrying about the son of a bitch. I mean, I've had more fun with you in the past twenty-four hours than I've had with Sam in years, and you're not that much fun. It's funny, you know, I've been so chained to my family, but now that I'm alone, hell, I'm happy." the human looked at the seat beside him, and noticed it was empty.
He sighed deeply - he was actually opening up to the angel and he just disappeared without a word.
Dean carried on driving, turning the music up, and tried not to get upset.
—
When the hunter pulled up in the parking lot of the motel he was planning on staying that night, he felt his phone vibrate in his pocket.
Turning off the ignition, the blond pulled his phone out, and opened it to see a text message from Castiel.
'Where are you' was what it read, and Dean couldn't help but feel a wave of fondness for the angel. He hadn't been taught to text - the hunter hadn't got around to that part of his cell-phone user training - and it was obvious by the lack of punctuation. The dark haired man was usually meticulous about what he did, so this was rather odd.
The hunter sent a quick reply with the address of the motel, and, seconds later, the angel appeared beside him.
"Hello Dean." Castiel greeted, his deep voice echoing in the car.
"Hey Cas." the blond directed a glare at the angel, but his voice was calm. "How comes you disappeared on me?"
"I went to get something."
A raised eyebrow was directed at Cas.
"And what, if I may ask, was so important that you poofed out on me in the middle of me talking?" Dean tried to keep the anger out of his voice, but he knew some of it could still be heard.
The angel held up a plastic bag, which clinked with the sound of glass on glass.
"I purchased us some alcohol so we could talk some more in your motel room. That is, if you want to." the usually neutral face of the angel looked slightly embarrassed.
"Hey," Dean touched the other man's arm lightly, to get him to look at him. "anyone who buys me a drink can most definitely have a conversation with me. Lemme quickly book in, and we can start drinking, yeah?"
The angel smiled ever so slightly.
"Okay."
"I'm guessing you don't need a bed?"
"I'm an angel Dean, I have no need to sleep."
"Of course not. I'll be back in a few minutes."
—
Starting a drinking game with the angel was probably not one of Dean's greatest ideas. The hunter was very drunk, and Castiel was on his side of tipsy. Dean considered it an achievement to get the angel that far.
They were currently doing shots, and Dean had managed to drink ten, before having to stop.
The angel drunk all of his own fifteen, then drank the five the blond had left.
Cas' eyes were shining, glazed over with the affect of the alcohol.
—
More drinking occurred after that, finishing all of the drinks Castiel had bought, and even raiding the small supply of beers that Dean always carried with him.
—
The next thing the hunter knew, he was laying in bed, a heavy weight pressing into his chest. Barely opening his eyes, he looked down, and saw the dark brown mess of hair atop the head of his bed companion.
He knew that hair anywhere - Cas had fell asleep on him. It was a surprise really, that the angel really did sleep, he just usually chose not to, using his angel mojo to keep him alive and healthy.
The hunter also was slightly disappointed to find his clothes fully on him, no evidence of anything happening between himself and the angel the night before.
He shoved the disappointment to the back of his mind, and instead relished in the feel of the dead weight on his chest. No usually one for cuddling, Dean was perfectly content to stay wrapped up in the angel's arms.
A tired hand - not his own - come to rest on the mark just below his shoulder, and the hunter felt pleasure rush through him.
The blond smiled sleepily, and fell back to sleep, dreaming of the angel in his arms and what could have happened the night before - and what could possibly happen again in the future. All Dean knew was that he had to get Cas drunk again if he wanted to cuddle with him once again, and the hunter knew that wouldn't be too much of a hardship. Two bird and one stone, and all.
