The party was suave in a way that brought him back to the 1920's. The drink in Cas's hand pulsed and jived along to the beat of the music. He made his way to the edge of the room, preferring not to be caught in the lively energy of the crowd. "Hey," a gruff voice said. He looked like a model, or someone you could fall in love with. A cigarette hung from the corner of his mouth. "You got a lighter?" Cas fished around in his pockets, pulled out his lighter, and lit it for the man without saying a word. "So," puffs of smoke clouded Cas's face, "you're the strong and silent type, eh?" When Cas shrugged he chuckled and leaned closer, "What's your name, pretty boy?" He smelled musky, like he's been running through the forest. "Cas." He whispered. "Dean." He replied sturdily, his name intertwined with the background noise nicely. Dean looked at a very tall man and nodded, "I'll see you around Cas."