It was probably a mistake to agree to go to a bar with Dean Winchester, Castiel, the former-devout-Angel-of-the-Lord thought as he sat on the bar stool. He was... nervous. Yes, that was it. Being at the bar unsettled him. It was a place where the humans tended to be at their most... human, and he was still learning the myriad of behavioral quirks, activities, and speech patterns that made up a man.
He knew that Dean was simply using him as a replacement for his brother, Sam, and Castiel was certainly a poor replacement. But for some reason that seemed to make Dean happy. Castiel was discovering that he enjoyed making Dean happy, for a reason only his Father knew. So Castiel went to a bar. With Dean Winchester. The first being ever to desire Castiel's company who wasn't a sibling.
Now Castiel was fully aware that he had no idea what one was supposed to do in a bar, but he was pretty sure that Dean was drinking far too much. He had lost count of how many shots Dean had demanded from the bartender, and although that amount of alcohol would do almost nothing to Castiel, it was too much for a human, and Dean was becoming quite drunk.
"Dean," muttered Castiel uncomfortably, as the male bartender was watching him oddly closely (not a demon, Castiel had thoroughly checked the vicinity for any threats, just a normal human male), "You have had quite a bit to drink."
"Mmm... yeah?" Dean Winchester turned toward him, with eyes that were becoming quite bloodshot (that only increased how green they were), "Shuttup, Cas. You're not my mom."
"I am aware of that." He was such a stubborn mortal. "But I am conscientious of your health, and you are going to need to leave this bar eventually-"
"Cas, for the love of... jus' let me enjoy this, kay? Almost done. Jus' a li'l more..." Another swallow of beer. Castiel found himself studying the way Dean's Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed. For some odd reason.
As he prepared another argument to get Dean off the alcohol and out of the bar, Castiel was suddenly sidetracked by the bartender, who leaned over the counter wearing what could almost be described as a predatory grin. "Hey there, beautiful. Can I get you anything?"
Dean suddenly began choking on his beer. Ignoring him, Cas replied, "No, thank you. I am not fond of drinking."
If possible, the bartender smiled wider. "Figures. You seem like the pure, my-body-is-a-temple type. It certainly shows. I bet your ass is a work of art under that coat."
Castiel blinked. For a moment he was completely lost, then he figured it out. The man was attempting to engage in flirtation with him. Castiel was quickly getting used to that sort of thing from women (how many times had he heard his eyes compared to sapphires/ocean/sky), but it happened a lot less with men, so it always managed to throw him off. As he opened his mouth to explain that he was not interested in any romantic attachment, the man cut him off.
"Tell you what. How about we go back to my place after my shift ends and I get to find out about your ass for myself? I bet you-" CRASH. The man was suddenly over the counter and pushed against the nearest wall, by none other than an extremely intoxicated Dean Winchester.
"You... don't... talk to Cas like that," growled Dean. From the look on the bartenders face, Dean came off as absolutely terrifying.
"Dean!" snapped Castiel, putting a hand on his shoulder, "The man is harmless, and you've had too much to drink. Let's-"
But he was interrupted once again, by Dean releasing the man who fell, gasping for air, while Dean firmly gripped Castiel's shoulders and stared intensely at him with those green eyes Castiel was getting to know so well.
"Cas..." whispered Dean hoarsely, his eyes darting down to Castiel's lips before once again making eye connection (and yes, alright, maybe Castiel snuck a glimpse at Dean's lips too), "Do you like that guy?"
"Don't be ridiculous, Dean, let's go before someone-"
"Cas!" Dean repeated, louder this time. Some people were staring. "That guy... he's scum. If- if you're gonna go with anyone, go... umm... go with-" and suddenly, with barely a hitch, Dean's lips are on Castiel's. Castiel is kissing the Righteous Man, and the part of his consciousness that worries about what Father would think is drowned out by the part that says 'Yes' as if it were written out as a hundred bright stars in the sky, a new constellation.
Trying to make sense of this, Cas opens his mouth, but Dean seizes the opportunity to invade even further, and his tongue inside Castiel's mouth is unbelievable. And suddenly, as the warmth travels down his spine, as his vessel's pants become oddly tight, as Castiel 'angel mojos' the two of them to the motel they're staying at (the bar is almost empty and the few people left there are quite drunk and won't notice), as Castiel unconsciously but greedily shoves a thigh between Dean's legs and Dean lets out a cross between a whimper and a moan that sends a tremor through Castiel's grace, the concept of acting human seems to become very easy indeed.