So they ended up at one of the local, not-too-shabby bar where there were only a handful of people, all of whom were too caught up in their own business to give any mind to anyone else. They found a seat in the back to fade into the shadows - Dean's caution attempt to not be seen so close to another male body. He sent Sam to get them beers, staying put in a mostly content state by Cas.
As Sam did as he was told, Cas saw the way Dean nodded in greeting at the broad shouldered bartender who nodded in return, a small, sly grin on his face. Obviously, Dean had been to this bar before.
He wasn't sure if this would be a problem later in the evening, knowing too well Dean's tendency to take stock in how others saw him. His worry seemed unfounded as Sam came back with drinks. Out of the bunker and beer in hand, Dean relaxed. He drained the bottle, joked with them, laughed, and drank some more.
For the beginning part of the evening, Sam kept a wary eye on Dean, but as the night continued, his gaze drifted to the opening door, following whoever had come through with an appraising look. A fact that didn't go unnoticed by his brother.
Dean glanced over his shoulder and laughed. "Just go." Giving his little brother no time to argue, he insistently shooed him away. Like in most ridiculous things, Dean won, and soon Sam was sliding out of the booth to the pretty brunette who now sat lonely at the bar, Dean winking as he left, not only at his retreating brother, but at the girl too. She smiled and signaled "thank you" with her right hand.
Cas watched curiously as Sam took an awkward seat next to the girl who smiled more with her eyes than her lips. He turned back before he was caught staring, directing his gaze to the hunter beside him. Before he could wonder if Dean was truly okay with his brother abandoning them for a girl on their night out, the hunter was whispering, "Slowly move to the other side and keep you hands on the table, huh?" Cas nodded, and maneuvered without error to sit across from his friend.
When he moved, Dean was nodding again to the male bartender, who gathered shots to bring over. "Thanks Mark. And keep 'em coming."
The man, Mark, chuckled in affirmation. "And your buddies?"
"My baby brother, Sam," he motioned to where Sam now sat, and then jerked his chin to the angel, "and this is Cas."
Mark smiled kindly in greeting. "I'll take care of both of them for you, bud."
As he returned to the bar to continue his work, Cas stated, "You've come here after."
Dean shrugged, sipping his whiskey languidly. "Been here a couple of times."
With that, Cas observed the bar again, caught up in the details that made this place far different than the Winchesters' usual haunts. One, it wasn't bustling with the activity that Dean seemed to crave. Instead, it was quiet, very low key, with country and classic rock playing from the jukebox. Two, other than the woman that Sam conversed with, the other group of women appeared to have no interest of being "talked up" by available men. Not that there seemed to be many available men present. The majority of them had rings on their left hands, if not with their wife by their side.
Cas decided to point out the oddity of it not being his usual type of "hang out". The air quotes made the hunter's lips quirk. "It's close to the bunker." It was said in that tone of his that was breezy and casual, hiding the fact that there was more beyond his reasons for coming to this bar. Cas had heard that sound often enough when Dean tried to make others overlook his love of soap operas, or romantic films, and slow, sentimental music. Obviously, there was something about this bar that Dean liked that he thought would oppose the perspective he preferred people have of him.
He couldn't question it, though, not wanting to disrupt Dean's contentment. Rather, he just sipped whatever alcoholic beverage Dean thought appropriate, enjoy the comfortable conversation, and listen to the sad melodies that played in the background.
They were only interrupted occasionally by the bartender that went out of his way to come by to refill their drinks, always smiling with a brightness in his dark eyes. One time he even brought over a plate of nachos. "On the house."
Cas watched Mark make his way back to the station, eyebrows cinched together, not entirely sure about the way his gut twisted angrily. "He is very friendly to you."
For a second, green eyes stared at the monotone statement, before light sparked within the iris and he was smirking coyly. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you were jealous."
There was something in his expression that had Cas wanting to play along, but still a little lost about the game itself. "I wouldn't be jealous of a friend of yours. Humans need multiple relationships to stay mentally and emotionally healthy. I would never want to wish that away from you." Though the comment was obviously off track from what Dean had meant, like most times Cas didn't understand the situation clearly, Dean shook his head in amusement, keeping the light in his eyes.
As the time passed, Cas decided going to the bar, though it had seemed pointless at first, was a good idea. Not only because Dean was smiling and relaxed, leaning forward into Cas's personal space, but also because Cas himself enjoyed the environment.
For as unstable and unhealthy as Dean's drinking problem was, it wasn't violent. It was simply Dean's way of coping with the unbearable amount of burden that had been placed on his shoulder. In fact, if Dean was drinking at a bar, that was usually better than drowning his misery alone. Being out meant Dean was either celebrating or relaxing. Which meant that when Cas joined them at a bar, it was generally in a relaxing atmosphere, leading to a positive association with such places, if not on a mental level, then certainly an emotional one.
As they continued to enjoy each other's company in the easy atmosphere, Cas became distracted by the frequent glances of the bartender. Now that he seemed to have no reason to come by the table, Mark had taken up the habit of staring when he could.
"He stares at you a lot."
Dean glanced over to the counter, his eyes meeting Mark's. The other man winked, and to Cas's surprise Dean didn't sputter or act indignant. Instead, there may have been a coy grin before bringing those beautiful green eyes back to Cas. "Certainly not any more than you stare at me."
Dean Winchester, by definition, was a flirt. This typically went for females, but Cas had learned enough of humanity to recognize the flirtations directed at men. Many, Cas had learned after the fact, directed towards him. Usually though, those type of flirtatious comments weren't so brazen and out in the open. There was always a line. It was always simple in its teasing remarks, often combined with an edge of bitterness.
Oh, Cas became suddenly aware. That's what Dean's earlier comment had been about.
In the recess of his mind, the seconds that passed seemed much longer. Cas should take the opportunity of Dean being so relaxed and open. He should take advantage of these moments of coy smirks and gleaming, lingering looks.
The angel had never bothered to hide how he felt about the hunter. Even Metatron had known only after meeting Cas for two days. But there was always something that kept him from pressuring the hunter for more attention. In the beginning it had been because he was too stuck in his angel programming to understand why he was willing to give up everything for this man. Then there were all the mistakes he had made that made Cas's feelings, though now understood, no longer matter, for he no longer felt worthy of those feelings being reciprocated.
Even now he couldn't bring himself to think him and Dean could ever be more on a permanent basis. Yet, he was struggling with now, maybe he could have a little.
"Ah," Cas unsurely tried to counter, nervous about playing along now that he understood the game Dean was playing in his happily buzzed mind, "then I take back my earlier comment. If he is staring for the same reasons as I do, then I am jealous."
Out of all the intense statements Cas had ever made, that had been the most intentionally bold. For a second, Dean just stared, mouth slightly ajar, a deep red blossoming in his cheeks and ears. Before Dean had the chance to process Cas's flirtatious response and continue the playful banter, Sam came back to their booth, trying his best to hide a smile. One look at his brother had Dean shaking his head. "I think Sam wants to get us home so he can get out on his own." So, leaving behind a generous tip, the two got up from the booth in perfect coordination, and into the impala. Sam dropped them off at the entrance of the bunker, asked Dean if he could borrow the impala, and, given a threatening warning, was off again.
Allowing the drinking to continue despite the already buzzed hunter tied to Cas's wrist probably wasn't the best idea, but Cas yearned for the pleasant banter and lit green eyes stuck on him to continue. So, with a case of beer a bottle of whiskey just in case, the two settled on the couch, action movie playing in front of them.
Cas waited for Dean to take up his earlier manner, but the flirting never came. He was calm, but that was it. There was just a comfortable silence between them.
Frequently, Cas glanced over to see how his friend was faring after the evening at the bar, quietly pleased that the alcohol seemed to still have an influence over him. When it appeared, though, that Dean, despite being calm and relaxed, was not going to continue with their earlier state of being, Cas decided to slyly continue it himself. Throughout the movie, the angel subtly - at least that was what he thought he was doing - moved closer to the hunter.
When his leg was close enough to Dean's that they could both feel the barest tough, green eyes glanced briefly to the body slowly sinking into his side. Still, Dean made no moves.
"These action scenes seem quite impossible for any normal human." Cas observed blandly, knowing how amused Dean got when Cas commented on the shows they saw together, unlike Sam who got annoyed with the talking.
"The ridiculous stunts is what makes a good action film," Dean informed, friendly and warm, but lacking the flare that Cas wanted. "Who wants to watch action stuck in the laws of reality?"
"I don't know," Cas turned to stare at the side of Dean's face. "I always found you in action to be something worthy to watch." A blush spread across freckled cheeks, but instead of the coy retort that Cas was hoping for, Dean kept soft, chapped lips sealed to keep unwanted words inside.
To Cas's great disappointment, the movie ended, the beer finished with the whiskey untouched, and they headed to the room.