Authors note: Hai guise! My second Destiel fanfic. Quite random, not much plot, but hey, the smut makes up for it. Any comments would be appreciated, cause I have no idea if you like my writing. Anyway, I'll stop keeping you, and read on!
Castiel sunk back into the sofa. He was relaxed after a long hard day at the surgery and couldn't wait to put his feet up. Dean shuffled round the sofa and sat down next to him.
'Hard day, huh?' he asked. Castiel gave him a look that clearly said 'you know bloody well that I work hard'. Dean didn't have a job and he hadn't had one in a while, although that didn't stop him from having money. His father, John Winchester, had made a fortune from business that confused Castiel, and Dean had inherited half of that when he had died, the other half going to his brother, Sam.
However, even though he was rolling in it, Dean led a simple life. He had a normal two-storey house, no flashy expensive furniture just comfy sofas and wooden surfaces. Castiel loved it there as it reminded him of his old home.
The only thing that had cost a lot was his car, an old 1958 Chevy Impala. Dean loved his car like a father would love his child and never let anyone else drive it. Except Castiel.
Ever since they had met they had connected, sliding into place with each other easily, as though they were pieces of a puzzle that fitted together so neatly. They were as close as Sam and Dean and they shared everything, told each other everything and lived out of each others pockets.
Castiel thought about all of this as he watched his friend sit down with a sigh. Naturally Dean swung his legs up and onto Castiels lap, so that he was lying with his head on the armrest. He flashed an easy grin at Castiel and grabbed the TV remote.
Ten minutes later they were practically holding each other as they watched the screen transfixed. Castiel had never been one for the horror films, but Dean had been so eager to watch it, and Castiel couldn't resist the puppy dog eyes.
As the girl edged towards the closet the music became creepier. All of a sudden Dean snatched the remote and paused the film. Castiel, realizing how close they were, slid away.
'You know what?' said Dean somewhat shakily. 'I think we need something to drink.' Castiel knew that by that he meant alcohol and gave him a nod. He certainly needed it.
Dean got up and wandered over to the fridge, the creaks of the house settling making him jump. He shook his head in disbelief at himself. Dean Winchester scared of a film? No. That never happened.
He swung open the fridge door and peered inside thoughtfully. I know just what we need, he thought.
Dean returned to the living room with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses.
'Whiskey?' said Castiel, eyeing the bottle. 'Really?' Dean smirked at him and filled the glasses.
'Why the hell not?' he handed him the glass and took a large swig from his own, gasping as the liquid stung his throat.
Castiel tentatively sipped at his own and Dean pressed play on the remote. Almost without thought, Castiel automatically curled closer to Dean until they were in the same position as before. He pressed his head to Deans shoulder and looked back at the TV.
'Now that was a good –hic- film.' Slurred Dean. He had drunk a few to many glasses and Castiel hastily removed the bottle from him. Personally, he had found the movie terrifying, but he didn't want Dean to know how afraid he was. It was just a movie after all.
They were still on the sofa, with Dean stretched out below him, Castiel felt comfortable. That was until, Dean started trailing his hand up Castiels leg.
'Dean.' He said warningly. 'What are you doing?' Dean ignored him and continued to move his hand further up his leg.
When his fingers grazed his thigh, Castiel slapped his hand away glaring at him. He knew how flirty Dean got when he was drunk, and he was no exception.
Dean unexpectedly sat up and moved closer. He had his legs around Castiels waist and leant forward. Castiel could smell the whiskey on his breath.
He raised a hand to cup Castiels face in his hand.
'You're so pretty.' He murmured. Castiel let out a harsh, awkward laugh.
'Dude, cut it out. You're seriously plastered.' He shuffled backwards but Dean moved with him, until he was pressed right into the corner of the sofa.
Deans hand was on his chest, playing with the buttons. He looked up into Castiels eyes, and Castiel gasped at how green they were. He knew Dean was a good looking guy, heck, he was damn sexy, but he had never thought about him like this.
Instinctively, he scrambled up from the sofa and backed away.
'Listen, Dean.' He stammered. 'I'm just gonna go home now. I'll- I'll see you in the morning.' With that, he made for the door.