Angels Watch Over You
Fandom: Supernatural
Rating: T
Genre: Humor, Romance
Pairing: Castiel/Dean Winchester, Sam/Jessica
Word count: 1013
Summary: "Did you just fall from Heaven?" Dean blurted out, - or more like slurred, really, considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed - cutting off the garbling.
Confusion bloomed in the pair of cornflower blue eyes. "Um...no? I mean, I fell from upstairs if that counts? Sorry about that, by the way. Again." Dean/Castiel ONESHOT.
AN: I don't even know. I just saw this and thought it would be fun. I hope you enjoy.
DISCLAIMER. I do not own Supernatural.
Inspired by this prompt: Imagine person A falling through the ceiling and landing next to person B in their bed.
If there was anything to blame in this situation, it was Jessica's vegetarianism.
Sam just had to get a girlfriend who survived solely on rabbit food, didn't he? If he hadn't insisted on going to that vegetarian restaurant to celebrate her birthday, Dean wouldn't have been forced to resort to drinking in order to get through the meal on his plate. If Dean hadn't been forced to resort to drinking, he wouldn't be where he was now, stumbling around his apartment at three in the morning in only a shirt and his underwear, contemplating his impending thirtieth birthday and how he was probably going to die alone, and die alone sooner rather than later, at that.
He bet Doctor Sexy would never have this problem.
He finally settled on his bed, lying on top of the blanket with his arms folded and staring at the ceiling, thinking about the aforementioned Doctor Sexy and how his evening could have been spent marathoning that show instead of eating rabbit food whilst Jess' family scrutinized everything he and his brother did, when, out of the darkness, came the sound of someone banging from the apartment one floor above his.
Unrelentless banging, he might add. Unrelentless and fucking loud.
He groaned, throwing one arm over his face, as if he could somehow shield himself from the noise in this way, but soon, even his alcohol-influenced brain realised that this tactic wasn't going to work. Because not only was the banging from upstairs unrelentless and fucking loud, it was also fucking irritating as well.
"I told you!" Someone yelled from the room above, loud enough for even Dean to hear them, their footsteps echoing across the floor. "There's a spider in the bathroom and I'm not freaking touching it!"
"Gabriel, don't stamp on the floorboards!" Another voice yelled back. "You know they're not very strong; they could crack under your weight!"
"Oh, come on, they're not that weak!" More stomping, directly over his bed this time. Dean was seriously considering forcing himself to get off the bed and go and tell them to pipe the fuck down because this really wasn't helping his hangover right now.
"Gabriel! Stop doing that!"
"Why? It's not as if anything's going to happen! Look!" Something smashed from the room above, followed by a sickening splintering noise and the yell of "Cassie!" from one of the upstairs occupants before there was a shower of floorboard and dust tumbling down from the ceiling, a shout of surprise from above, and a heavy lump landing directly on top of Dean, who let out a grunt as someone's elbow hit his stomach. (That wasn't going to be so great after drinking so much alcohol...)
"Oh, my - I'm so - Are you okay?" The person peered down at him with startlingly bright eyes, damp strands of dark hair plastered across his face. "- I just - I'm so sorry -"
"Did you just fall from Heaven, man?" Dean blurted out, - or more like slurred, really, considering the amount of alcohol he'd consumed - cutting off the garbled apologies.
Confusion bloomed in the pair of cornflower blue eyes. "Um...no? I mean, I fell from the apartment upstairs if that counts? Sorry about that, by the way. Again." Concern replaced the frown that knitted his eyebrows together. "Did I hurt you -?"
"No...no..." Dean replied slowly, the majority of his brain - the part controlled by the beer - still focused on just how blue his neighbour's eyes really were. Because, damn, were they blue.
"Good." The guy rolled off him, wincing a little as he stood up, shoes crunching through the layer of plastering that covered the entire room.
"Cassie?" The owner of the other voice was leaning over the side of the large gaping hole that was now in Dean's ceiling, tufts of blonde hair hanging over their face. "Cas? You alright?"
"I'm fine." The man - Cas - sent a glare up towards his companion. "No thanks to you, of course."
"How was I supposed to know it would do that?" The blonde protested. "Are you sure you're alright? Do you want me to come down?" He shifted, swinging his leg over the side of the gap, as if he was about to drop down on top of Dean just as his friend had done before him; Dean recoiled, scrambling off the bed to try and get out of the way. He'd already been hit in the stomach once this morning, and he'd quite like it to stay that way. The blonde decided against the idea, however, when Cas rolled his eyes. "Gabriel, get out of the hole before you hurt yourself or anyone else." He turned back to Dean. "I'm sorry about my brother. He likes to think he always knows what he's doing."
"Right, because you do?" Gabriel challenged.
"At least I knew better than to jump on the floorboards and break them."
"I was just demonstrating what could go wrong." Gabriel nodded towards Dean as well at this point. "Safety precautions, y'know?"
"Well, good job on that one." Cas' gaze returned to Dean. "I'll help clean up the mess, and pay for any damage, I promise -"
"Whoa, whoa, whoa -" Dean held up a hand. "Man, I appreciate the offer, but it's three in the morning, and I'm about to have a ragin' hangover; I can't even think about pickin' my own shoes off the floor let alone half of the damn ceiling."
"Even so, I have to do something." Cas paused. "Can I interest you in some coffee? I know it's three in the morning, and it won't clean the floor, but it might help with the hangover?"
Dean considered the offer for a moment, before nodding. "Ah, sure. What the hell. S'not like I'm gonna sleep anymore, anyway."
Cas smiled, small and, if Dean wasn't mistaken, a little shy, extending out a hand. "Castiel."
"Dean." They shook hands, Cas' fingers sending warmth into his wrist where they brushed the skin and up his arm, all the way around his body.
Huh. Maybe dyin' alone won't be such a problem anymore.