A/N : Here's a new chapter. This took a little longer to write than I anticipated since I've had to give more time to my school projects than anything else, but here it is. This was originally supposed to be a part of the previus chapter, but I thought it would stand better on it's own.


Where Do We Draw the Line

Chapter 7

Dean had no intention to let Castiel defeat him in the fine art of getting drunk. He dug out his car keys and opened the doors to Impala, listening to Castiel's amused explanation about his friends book. From what Dean heard about the plot, he thought it might actually be an interesting story to read. He mentioned this to Castiel, who gave him a mildly shocked look and shook his head sharply.

"Trust me, Chuck is a great friend, but there are only so many soulful looks you can have in your life. He has an amazing imagination, but he lacks the actual talent of writing. I think he deserves points for trying, though," Castiel smiled and got into the car right after Dean.

Dean switched the record in the player from Metallica to Def Leppard and turned the volume up to see how Castiel would react. The other man just shot him an amused glance, and Dean suddenly understood why people called him Angel. It was actually quite disturbing how perfect the guy next to him seemed, despite the apparent inability to share any facts about his own life. Or maybe it was just a helping factor with the whole perfection thing. Dean hastily abandoned his train of thought and cleared his throat, getting Castiel's unwavering attention.

"I hope you're ready to be carried home," Dean joked, earning himself a challenging glare.

"I have a great alcohol tolerance, I think it's you who should be worried about getting home," Castiel suggested with a teasing edge in his voice. Dean smirked at the challenge, and they glanced at each other quickly before returning their attentions to the road ahead.

After five minutes or so Dean parked the Impala again and led Castiel inside the relatively small bar. The place was ruled by a slight western influence and warm, dark colors and as promised, classic rock was filling the space. Dean explained to Castiel that they always played rock, but Saturdays were dedicated to the old classics and nothing else. Castiel nodded in acknowledgement as Dean pulled him to the counter and ordered two beers. Dean quickly payed for them before Castiel had any change of arguing with him, and led them to an unoccupied table in the back of the bar.

"You can pay for the next round," Dean promised as they sat down, and after a moment of consideration Castiel agreed. Dean relaxed as he listened to Van Halen and looked at Castiel observing his beer before taking a careful sip and deeming the drink acceptable.

"So, what are we gonna talk about now? We've covered work, my car, friends, movies," Dean let his voice fade and looked at Castiel expecting him to come up with the next topic. Castiel considered the possible things to talk about while examining his beer without any actual interest.

"You could always tell me about your marriage," Castiel suggested without looking at Dean, who was rather taken aback by the request. He didn't understand what the appeal in the whole matter was. Sure, he had no problem telling anyone he had a wife he loved, but the whole concept of talking about married life somehow escaped him.

"Why do you wanna know?" Dean asked instead of answering. Castiel's head snapped up and he directed a piercing stare at Dean.

"I'd just like to know what it's like, living with someone like that. I mean, I've never lived with anyone so I guess I'm just curious. But it's okay if you don't want to talk about it," Castiel said almost apologetically and shifted his eyes to somewhere beyond Dean's left shoulder. It took Dean only few seconds to decide what he wanted to do.

"I dated Lisa for almost a year before we moved in together, and after that it took us a long time to actually get married. We just didn't want to rush it. You know how some people haven't even known each other for six months before they start planning their weddings? We didn't want that. I'm not saying that you can't get married after six months and live happily ever after, but we didn't think that would work for us." Dean took a long gulp out of his beer. Castiel silently urged him to go on, and Dean had to admit that the honest interest in the other man's eyes was quite endearing in its own way.

"It's not that difficult or anything. Of course it might just be that I'm too used to have someone at home waiting for me. Lisa's pretty much my best friend, Jo excepted of course. We can tell each other anything we want," Dean told with a fond tone. Castiel lowered his eyes to the table and he seemed to carefully think about Dean's words. Dean let him do just so as he ordered them another round of drinks. Castiel quickly dug out some cash and payed for the drinks as he had promised, before going back to his thoughts. Dean fought back a smile as he observed Castiel, who was clearly trying to figure the whole thing out.

"Can you tell me something?" He asked suddenly, startling Dean slightly.

"I don't know. What do you wanna know?" He asked and downed half of his beer in one go. Castiel raised an unimpressed eyebrow at him, but didn't say anything about it.

"Why do married people cheat on their spouses?" Dean was really taken aback by the question, and he spend long moment simply staring at Castiel and opening and closing his mouth like a fish on a dry land. Castiel gave him the time to recover, but didn't let the matter go.

"How the hell am I supposed to know?" Dean asked incredulously and Castiel was quick to raise his hands in a sign of surrender.

"I didn't mean to offend you. It's just something I've been thinking. Blame Pam and her research, she's been babbling about it to me for weeks. I just thought that, since you're married, perhaps you would be able to tell why someone would do so," Castiel explained hastily and Dean took a deep breath to calm himself down.

"I don't know. Maybe if there's something wrong with the marriage and they meet someone who can give them more. I guess that in the end it doesn't actually take that much to cheat on your wife once. Trouble at home, a little bit too much to drink and a pretty girl. It can be really complicated or really simple, you know," Dean tried to ease Castiel's curiosity, but he doubted he was doing a very good job.

"But how about being married and having an affair with someone for, let's say a year, for example," Castiel pushed the subject after finishing his beer in one go, and Dean had to admit it was pretty amazing display.

"I don't know. Maybe this imaginary guy of yours just fell in love with someone. Doesn't mean he wouldn't love his wife though. Maybe he loves her and genuinely wants to spend the rest of his miserable life with her, but then he just meets another woman and falls in love with her too and doesn't know what to do," Dean speculated. Castiel eyed him with an unreadable expression that unnerved Dean more than he would've liked to admit. It was like Castiel could see right through him to the very core of his being and see all his secrets.

"You mind if we change the subject?" Dean requested, his uncomfortably clear in his voice. Castiel agreed rather reluctantly and after a while his broody expression changed into a small, mischievous smirk.

"I'll give you one chance to back down before I drink you to oblivion." Dean sat up a little straighter and gave Castiel a confident look.

"Dream on," he countered and ordered them both few shots and water. Castiel didn't seem like he was actually worried he might lose to Dean, and it quickly got to Dean's nerves. He kept his eyes sternly fixed on Castiel as they downed the first shots as quickly as they could, Castiel beating Dean in the speed. Dean was forced to stare Castiel with wide, incredulous eyes. The guy had taken the alcohol like it was water. Dean's determination to win just grew stronger as the corners of Castiel's lips turned up ever so slightly in a knowing manner.

They weren't rushing anything, so it took them a while to actually get their heads properly jumbled up. Dean had propped his arms on the table and was leaning his head lazily to his hand as he regarded the plastic card in his hands. Castiel had the look of a defeated man on his features as he shifted his eyes between Dean and the rest of the customers.

"Milton," Dean said in a careful tone and Castiel nodded without turning his eyes to Dean.

"Like the poet, I know," Castiel huffed with barely concealed annoyance. Dean shifted his eyes to look at the man sitting in front of him. He wasn't going to admit he had no clue who Castiel meant, even though there was something oddly familiar in the name. Castiel glanced him quickly and immediately caught Deans confusion.

"Paradise Lost?" Castiel prompted and Dean grinned triumphantly when the name finally rang a bell in his head. He took a final look at the card in his hand and offered it back to it's rightful owner. Castiel took the card and stuffed it back to his wallet. Dean kept a close eye on his friend the whole time. He didn't have the willpower to keep himself from smiling fondly when Castiel organized their empty glasses while he babbled about some article he had read few days earlier, or not to try to figure out what shade of blue Castiel's eyes were exactly. To Dean it was rather disturbing how in one light they were bright, electric blue, and the next moment they seemed almost as dark as midnight. It was really disorienting. Dean was forced to snap out of his musings when Castiel fell quiet and directed a curious look on his way.

"You're staring," Castiel pointed out and smiled lopsidedly. Dean raised one eyebrow nonchalantly, he was drunk enough not to care about being caught, and too drunk not to think about what he was saying.

"You're very stare worthy," he blurted without blinking an eye. Castiel's eyes widened and his jaw dropped ever so slightly.

"That came out wrong," Dean admitted and ran a hand through his hair to ease the anxiousness that threatened to take over him. Castiel nodded very slowly, looking puzzled.

"What I meant to say was-. I have no idea what I was gonna say. Just forget it, Cas," Dean nearly pleaded. Castiel smiled as he nodded again and let the matter drop. Dean wished he couldn't feel as stupid as he did. He had no idea why he had said what he had. Dean had no issue admitting that Castiel belonged to the better looking part of the society, but that wasn't any justification for his words. Luckily Castiel seemed to have forgotten the whole comment.

Dean, however, had some trouble pulling his thoughts to a different track. He couldn't stop himself from paying closer attention to Castiel, especially the way he absentmindedly nipped his lower lip, or how delicate his hands seemed when he lifted the glass to his lips and downed the last mouthful of the liquor. Dean also couldn't deny the sudden jealousy he felt for the glass when Castiel directed his full attention to it. Dean snapped out of the pleasant daze the alcohol had brought with it when his brain caught up with his thoughts, and he quickly downed the drink in front of him before ordering a new round. Dean was more than willing to blame the alcohol in his system for his reaction, and in order to get some distraction he took a double the effort to get himself drunk enough to loose his ability to think.


In the end Castiel more or less carried Dean out of the bar after being declaring himself the winner of their competition. Dean was heavier than Castiel had anticipated, but he did his best to get them to Dean's car. He laughed fondly when Dean made a brave attempt to get the car key into the lock before he took the keys from Dean.

"Hey! Give 'em back," Dean ordered Castiel with a slurred voice and made a poor attempt to catch the keys from his friend. Castiel easily stumbled out of Dean's reach and tucked the keys to his pocket.

"You're not driving," Castiel said simply and pulled out his phone. Dean directed an annoyed pout to Castiel, who was ordering a taxi for them and pointedly ignoring Dean. He could feel Dean's stare at his back the whole time he was talking to the phone, needing to think everything longer than usually. When Castiel finally ended the call he swayed slightly as he leaned to the car and turned his eyes on Dean.

"I'll get you home," he promised quietly and did his best imitation of Dean's hurt frown before a warm grin made its way to his face, and he reached out and ruffled Dean's hair affectionately. Dean tried to back off from him, nearly falling to the ground in the process. Castiel laughed as he helped Dean regain his balance, pulling the other man next to him.

"You're not serious about leaving my baby here," Dean stated, sounding convinced. Castiel considered arguing, but it seemed like too much of an effort at the moment. They stood there in silence leaning to the car, shoulders pressed together. Castiel couldn't remember when he had been in such an ease with someone else. He was willing to argue that the reason he leaned to Dean's side was because he was drunk and the air was chilly, not because Dean felt safe and somehow familiar.

"You might crash the car if you drive. Think about what would happen to it," Castiel muttered and let his head fall on Dean's shoulder. He saw Dean reluctantly nod in agreement and turn to look at him. Dean, despite the fact he was almost at the point of passing out, managed to level a scrutinizing look at Castiel. Neither one of them said anything for a long time, but when Castiel finally opened his mouth to say anything to end the silence, their ride arrived and the moment was over.

"Come on," Dean muttered and pulled Castiel with him to the back seat of the taxi. Castiel watched Dean skeptically when he closed his eyes and seemed to fall asleep. He poked the slumped form of his friend tentatively. When there was no reaction Castiel rolled his eyes and gave the driver his address. Maybe he wouldn't die if Dean crashed on his couch for one night, after all he had allowed both Chuck and Pamela do so in the past. At least he had a faint memory of such occasions, it had been a very long time since he had brought anybody to his apartment.

Castiel tried to pretend he didn't notice when Dean shifted and leaned on him. He most definitely ignored the way how Dean's breath brushed his neck gently, and how he didn't mind it at all. Castiel wasn't sure how long it took, but in the end the quiet driver pulled the car over. Castiel payed the man and elbowed Dean to wake him up even a bit, before getting out of the car. He almost fell on his face as he dragged Dean with him. This was one of the occasions where Castiel was extremely grateful for the ever vigilant doorman who hurried to help him with Dean. They got to the elevator and then to Castiel's front door without tripping over, and Castiel was fairly certain it counted as a some sort of miracle. Dean was barely awake when Castiel opened the door and pulled Dean inside and pushed him off of himself. Dean stumbled and fell against the wall, laughing as he tried to support himself against it.

"Lisa will kill me in the morning," Dean mumbled more to himself than to Castiel, who huffed in an annoyed manner and pulled Dean with him to the couch. He had to fight off the tiredness as he did his best to help Dean to get his jacket and boots off.

"Get some sleep," Castiel said and offered Dean a blanket and a pillow, and helped him to lie down. Castiel was grateful he wasn't as drunk as Dean, imagining this situation would be quite different if he were. Castiel brushed his fingers against Dean's cheek before leaving for his inviting bed. He managed to take to steps before Dean grabbed his arm with a surprising strength. Castiel turned his eyes to his friend, who was staring at him with an odd brightness in his eyes.

"Can you stay?" Dean asked, his voice barely audible. A sudden rush of fondness filled Castiel and he returned to Dean's side, sitting down on the floor. Dean let go of Castiel's hand and curled his fingers tiredly in his hair instead. Castiel was surprised by Dean's behavior, but he couldn't bring himself to care about it. He leaned into Dean's touch and closed his eyes, reveling in the sudden affection he received. Castiel couldn't remember the last time anyone had shown him such unreserved tenderness.

"You shouldn't sleep on the floor," Dean slurred sleepily without opening his eyes. Castiel looked at his friend with a smile on his face.

"You asked me to stay here," he muttered softly in return. There was a hint of a sad smile in Dean's lips when he cracked his eyes open and looked at Castiel.

"Sorry. Go to bed, Cas," Dean urged and pulled his hand a way from Castiel, who let out a quiet whimper of discontent. For the first time in a long time Castiel wanted to have somebody sleeping in the same bed with him. He stumbled up after a moments consideration and looked down at Dean, who was fighting to keep his own eyes open and directed to Castiel.

"You can come too, if you want," Castiel offered hesitantly, rubbing his hands together nervously. Dean's eyes snapped open as he considered Castiel's offer. Finally, he nodded slowly, pulled himself up and allowed Castiel to lead him to the bedroom. Castiel pulled the covers aside before Dean had a chance to fall to the bed. He followed Dean's example and pulled the covers on them before allowing his eyes finally close.

Castiel could feel Dean shifting next to him. His eyes snapped open in shock when Dean wrapped his arms tightly around him and snuggled his face to the crook of Castiel's neck. Castiel could hear Dean's breath slow down as he fell asleep, and he relaxed into the possessive grip Dean had him in. He shifted slightly and pressed himself more tightly against Dean before closing his eyes and allowing the sleep finally to claim him.


A/N : Facts about this chapter :

1) The whole talk about marriage and cheating was inspired by a very philosophical conversation between me and my friends last summer. That, and a married man telling me why he would cheat on his wife.

2) Why do people get so clingy when they're drunk and you let them sleep next to you? At least this has been true with all my friends. It's strange.

3) Paradise Lost was written by John Milton.