"It wasn't like I inte- intend- planned to take Cow. Er, not Cow, Samantha." Cas hiccuped (actually hiccuped). "She was just so alone 'n' she looked so sweet. She was nibbling on the 'rass 'n' she w's jus' so cute 'n' I had to." He said it like it was the most serious thing in the world, like he truly had to steal a cow or there'd be dire consequences; listening to him, Dean would believe that the fate of the world rested on stealing a cow.

Cas was drunk.

Scratch that, he was very drunk. Dean had never seen him that drunk before, but he'd apparently decided to cut loose for some reason, and he ended up - clothing still undone and dishevelled in a way that Dean found embarrassing (because what other reason was there for the blush that decided to bloom on his cheeks? Dean Winchester didn't blush.) - sprawled out on their horribly uncomfortable couch staring intensely at Dean and explaining the ins and outs of stealing a cow.

To be fair, Dean was buzzed, too - he'd had the same amount of alcohol as Cas, just had a bit more of a tolerance - and Cas wasn't alone in discussing their stowaway (largely because there was just something hilarious about Cas rambling with none of his usual precise enunciation, and Dean was perfectly happy to sit perched on the armchair of the couch and watch it unfold). "You do realize she's gonna grow up, yeah? We ain't gonna be able to keep her in my bedroom when she's the size of a-" He gestured, suddenly confused on how big exactly cows could grow. "Uh… House." Yeah, that was probably right.

Cas giggled, the sound a little more bubbly than usual. "Oh, she definitely won't get that big." And then he smiled, something gummy and happy and drunkenly large.

"She's a cow, Cas. She's gonna grow." Wasn't she? "I think." Was he just… wrong? "I think cows grow." Shit, did cows not grow? "They grow, right?" Cas didn't answer, and that wasn't acceptable because, damn it, this was important. "Cas, do cows grow?"

Dean's increasingly urgent and completely valid concern - 'cause if cows don't grow, they stay small and that's just weird - went unaddressed. Instead, Cas just mumbled out an increasingly indistinct and garbled, "There's a reason why the other cows weren't chatting her ups. Er… up."

Dean took another swig of his drink, nodded a little more vigorously than was probably, strictly speaking, required. "Yeah, 's 'cause she's a cow and she's not gonna talk to 'em." Wait, what? "Tha's not right. They're not gonna talk to her." Wait, no, not that either, becaus- oh, yeah. "There are no talking cows, Cas! Ever. They don' exist."

Cas shook his head, expression almost pouting as he held up one hand, eyes focused on his finger and thumb as he tried to leave a centimeter of space between them (and, in the process, oscillated between them touching and there being an entire inch of separation). "She's a li'l' cow, Dean. She can' get much bigg'r."

That… that wasn't right, was it? "I… I think she can. Cows 're…" Dean paused, trying to pick out his next word. "Uh… Big." Good enough.

Cas shook his head again, the gesture way too overblown for his normal staid control. "No' her, Dean. She's special. I think I saw it on a sign some'ere." He paused, squinting over at Dean on the armchair before reaching over and, with the gravity of someone carrying out a very, very important act… tapped Dean's nose. "Boop." Then he giggled again.

Dean definitely wasn't smiling. Or blushing. He was just drinking and the alcohol was making it seem like he was smiling. And blushing. (Dean Winchester didn't blush.) "Y'r drunk."

Cas shook his head, eyebrow raised in a knowing smirk. "Not then, Dean-o. Not then."

Completely at a loss for words, Dean just murmured an acknowledgement. A few seconds of silence - silence aside from Cas humming something under his breath, at least - passed and then he was heaving himself to his feet and heading for the kitchen. "Y'r drunk 'nd I'm hungry. We got any more o' that cherry pie?" He stifled a snort as he walked towards the kitchen, glad that Cas wouldn't get the accidental innuendo and run with-

"You know… if you take the D out of Deano-" He broke off, and it was probably a good thing, too given how Dean suddenly found himself flustered enough to almost drop his beer. Cas had flopped around, flopping over the back of the couch in a loose starfish of a sprawl to watch as Dean went to the kitchen. "Y' get meano. Like you not liking Samantha."

"Hey-"

"Or leano." Dean did not find himself sputtering. He didn't. He was coughing, that was all. "'Cause o' beef. Get it?"

Dean set the beer onto the counter with a little more force than intended or necessary. "You can't just say shit like that, Cas."

Cas grinned proudly, voice almost sing-song as he slurred out, "I just dddiddddddd…", punctuating the end with a hiccup.

I noticed. Dean definitely did not need to hold himself up against the counter. He was fine. "Yeah, Cas, but you shouldn't."

"It's a free countr- range!" He laughed, another drunken giggle that made its way into the kitchen. "Dean, it's a free range!" Another chuckle. "Wait, wait, I got it, I got it…" He paused, a thump sounding from the other room as he staggered his way towards the kitchen door. "Why not a-moo-se ourselves, Dean?" He grinned, proud and obviously inebriated with the way he almost collapsed in laughter.

Dean was not smiling. "Y'r an idiot." He shook his head, reaching for more alcohol. "And it ain't a free countr-" Cas glared at him, looking very put out in his drunkenness, and Dean corrected himself. "Range. It ain't a free range, Cas." Another drink. "That's bullshit, man."

Whatever he expected to happen after he finished speaking, Cas once again almost falling to the floor was not it. Even more not it was the incomprehensible keyboard smash of a combined sputter/laugh that had him once again doubled over.

"You alright, Cas?"

"Bullshit, Dean. Bullshit. That's hilarious."

Dean set his drink back on the counter and walked towards the door, patting Cas once on the shoulder before trying to gently nudge him towards his bedroom. "C'mon, bud, I think you're way, way past your limit-"

He was… partly successful. They made it into the living room before Cas stopped dead in his tracks and wheezed once before falling to his knees near the couch. Dean was almost concerned for a minute before he realized Cas was laughing, enough so that he was resting his forehead against the ground and… were those tears?

"Uh… Cas? You…" A pause, floundering for something to say. "You okay?"

The response was muffled, but he could vaguely make out, "Pasture. Dean, you said 'pasture limit!'"

Dean was not smiling and it was not an indulgent smile and he did not think Cas was- Okay, more than that, he definitely did not think his roommate adorable. It was the beer. "Think maybe it's time to hit the hay, Cas?"

He realized what he said about two seconds after he said it, but thankfully Cas didn't. Instead, he pulled himself to his feet - knocking Dean onto the couch in the process because, damn, Cas, personal space? - and then flopping down beside him. "I can't, Dean, I'm not done yet." He grinned for a second before adding a proud, "Moove over.", complete with hip nudge.

Dean did not choke on his beer. It didn't happen. If he didn't say anything, it definitely didn't happen. He stayed quiet.

Cas pouted again, something that actually seemed almost hurt in glassy blue eyes. "Oh, c'mon, Dean, laugh. You know that one was good, silly man."

And, really, with Cas sitting there staring at him like that, he couldn't just be an asshole - it was just common civility, it didn't mean anything, right? - so he nodded. (And, okay, fine, that time he did smile.) "Uh… yeah, Cas… it was… certainly something. It was a pretty good one…" Whatever he might have said, he didn't get it out before Samantha moo'd loudly from the other room. "...if we didn't have a cow in my room-"

Cas sputtered again, practically whacking Dean in the face with his elbow in the process. "Have a cow!" He devolved into silent laughter, followed it up with a few hiccups, then added, "Y' got 't, Dean, tha's it. Glad I could improve your-" He paused, his attempt at some facsimile of comedic timing followed by a harder-than-probably-intended thump of his hand on Dean's chest. "Moo-d." He grinned.

Dean did not almost laugh. He didn't. It was a sigh, that's all. "That.. that was literal, Cas. There's a cow. In my room."

Cas blinked twice, borderline offended. "You could have just said that, but you didn't."

"Yeah, I di-"

"It was funny." And why did Dean suddenly feel utterly - Cas would probably say udderly, and Dean was not smiling about that, too - unenthused about arguing? Moving on… Cas was still smiling with that sloppy, drunken smile. "Even if you did - wait for it, Dean - butcher the delivery." He stopped, staring pointedly at Dean. "Get it? Do you get it? You get it, right?"

"Yeah, Cas… I got it." He looked over at Cas - he looked happy, which was… not doing anything to make Dean happy, nope, no sir, not at all - and let his head fall back against the couch. When in Rome… I can't believe I'm doing this. "You're gonna keep milking this until I join in, aren't you?" Did Dean think Cas was happy before? Because the way he beamed after that was… Nope, not going there. "Mission accomplished, Cas, you've roped me into this ridiculousness."

Cas nodded, his expression making solemn a situation that really… wasn't. "You know my motto… When life gives you a cow…" He paused, scrunching up his face in thought and clearly failing to recapture his joke. "Y' got milk. Or someth'ng."

A sobering comment - almost literally, but there was enough of that pleasant, alcoholic buzz that Dean didn't care too, too much - left Dean's mouth before he could even think about it. "You realize, if my dad finds out we've got a cow…" He didn't want to follow through on that sentence, actually, but he did anyway. At least he could make it a bit lighter. "Shit, man, he's gonna tan both of our hides."

Cas didn't seem to care about the content anyway, his drunken brain only catching on the joke. He smirked. "Kinky."

Dean did not swallow the contents of a mouthful of beer badly. He did not have to spend a few minutes - minutes - coughing over the armchair of the couch to get his breath back. He did not sputter twice - twice - as he choked out, "Cas -"

Of course, Cas certainly hadn't meant it… that way… not with the innocent - it was innocent right? - expression on his face. "Get it? Cow ropes? 'N', like, you get kinks in rope, get it?"

"Uh…" And no, Dean wasn't still coughing. He also was not blushing, either, because Dean didn't blush. Ever. It must have been the alcohol. "Y-yeah, Cas, I got it. But, uh…" He cleared his throat. Twice. "Put that on the list of things you, uh… can't say. 'Kay?"

He frowned, confused. "But… Dean… They're just knots."

"Yeah, uh… just… don't." (Dean was fine. They were just knots… of course he was fine.)

"Knots, Dean. That's all." Cas shook his head, frowning. "What's that phrase?"

'What phrase?"

"I h'rd-" He broke off, sniggering. "Herd, Dean. Herd." Then he refocused, frowning in concentration. "I h'rd Balth'z'r say it… Oh, right! " He nodded once. "Don' g't your pan'ies in a twist!"

Dean did not think of Rhonda Hurley. Absolutely not. He also didn't blush (again). He still wasn't sputtering either. Nope. Not at all. No blushes were rising, nothing, nada, niente, nope. His voice still did not rise a few octaves, either. "You, uh… You gotta not say shit like… like that. Ever. Please." (Dean Winchester did not beg, either.)

Cas was still peacefully oblivious. "It's not that big a… a…" He paused, blinking. Twice. Three times. Then, he frowned. "What's the wor- Oh , a deal. Yeah, that. Not that big of one."

Dean took another gulp of his drink. (It was not an avoidance tactic. He was just thirst- Okay, wait, not going there either. He just wanted a damn drink, okay?) "Cas -"

Cas smiled that cute - whoa, wait, where the hell did that come from, abort mission - sloppy smile. "Hello, Dean." And then his eyebrows drew together, his eyes closed, and he promptly passed out.

Dean took another drink of his beer, then nodded and got up to settle the house. We're gonna regret everything come morning.