Dean had at least an hour before Castiel would be there. His costume would only take him a few minutes to put on. He chose something that was simple, an easily put together outfit that he didn't have to fret over. Dean freaked out over what costume to wear after his father agreed to let him go to the party. Sam dragged his older brother to the Halloween shop that weekend and got Dean to put on multiple costumes until he got him to agree to a certain one. Dean adjusted the vest that was over his white shirt. It looked ridiculous. He felt ridiculous.
The only way that Dean was able to come was to bring his brother Sam along. Sam didn't mind one bit. He was sold with knowing that there was going to be high school girls there. And high school girls liked to dress like sexy cats, sexy cops and other sexy costumes that Sam could only imagine. He was going whether his brother liked it or not. And Dean wasn't happy about the situation.
Sam knocked on the door to his brother's room. "You ready?"
"No," Dean replied.
"Well, too bad," Sam said. "Cas is here."
"Shit," Dean groaned. He wouldn't have any more time to fret over how he looked. Dean mentally crossed his fingers that this would go over okay.
Castiel was sitting in the passenger seat of his brother's car. Luke was to drive the boys to the house and pick them up, knowing that they'd probably be drinking. He wasn't as blind as his father. Charles didn't expect his youngest son to drink alcohol, figuring he'd make the right decisions. Luke knew better than to think that highly of his brother. He was once seventeen himself.
Castiel perked up at seeing the brothers. Dean was dressed as Han Solo and Castiel's breath hitched in his throat. Castiel loved the original Star Wars trilogy. This just made his night. Dean slid down the backseat to let Sam in behind him. Castiel turned towards his friend. "Who shot first?"
"Han," Dean blurted out.
"Thank you," Castiel exclaimed. Luke chuckled and shook his head.
"Sam just had to be Boba Fett," Dean said.
Sam lifted the plastic helmet off of his head. "Boba Fett is awesome, and you know it."
"I didn't say anything against the Fett man," Dean said. Luke zoned out as he drove with a lit cigarette between his fingers. The boys began discussing Star Wars, debating over certain plot lines and characters' motivations. It was a foreign discussion to Luke as he'd never been the type to watch old science fiction movies. Castiel was radiating when he was talking with Dean. Luke couldn't help but smile.
When they arrived at the house, Dean stopped to look at his friend better. "What are you supposed to be?"
"Doctor Who, David Tennant," Castiel said.
"Oh, yeah, I see it now," Dean said.
"Do you really? Or are you just pretending to get it?"
"I'm not completely dumb," Dean said. "Wait." Dean grabbed Castiel's tie.
Castiel titled his head, dumbfounded at Dean for pulling him in such an intimate manner. "What are you doing?"
"You're tie is fucked up," Dean replied. He unknotted the tie and began to redo it rather efficiently. As Dean was pulling an end through a loop he had created, Castiel felt his breathing halt. He had to focus on taking in air. It wasn't easy. Dean's face was so close to his that he could smell the lingering minty smell of toothpaste. When Dean finished, he adjusted the knot so it fit just right. They locked eyes. Everything around them didn't exist. It was just the two of them on the front lawn and nothing else.
"We should probably head in," Castiel found himself saying. If he didn't speak, he knew he'd end up doing something that he'd regret. He'd wait for the regretful moments for when he'd get drunk off his ass. Sam was nowhere to be found as Dean and Castiel made their way to the front door.
The house was crammed with people. It looked to Dean like the whole school, and possibly some teenagers from the next school district over, had turned out to this event. Some of the kids he recognized easily. Everyone else either had their faces painted, wore masks or were partially concealed for their costumes. A few costumes caught Dean's attention. Castiel and Dean loved watching whoever was under the Grimm reaper cloak. He would stand still in a room, scythe in hand, waiting for anyone to come near. It was riot watching him scare the shit out of people.
Dean overheard from some of Crowley's cronies whose house they were at. Garth, the nerdy kid that was in Dean's math class in tenth grade, had put out word that he was going to hold the gathering. He tried desperately to fit in with the rest of his peers. He hoped that this bash would get their approval, though the cowboy outfit he was wearing made him look like a child playing Cowboys and Indians. He insisted he was Walker Texas Ranger. Dean heard Lilith mocking the poor kid behind her red plastic cup that he looked, "more like Clint Douchewood."
The first floor was where everyone seemed to be congregating. Some people were outside by the bonfire or in the basement playing pool. Orange and black streamers blocked the stairwell to the second floor. It was Garth's attempt at keeping out those who wanted to create their own Sodom and Gomorra in the bedrooms. A few people did slip past the crinkled paper without Garth's knowledge. It wasn't difficult to imagine the shenanigans going on upstairs.
Dean stuck near Castiel as they made their way through the house. The people were starting to cause Dean some anxiety. As long as he stayed close to Castiel, the panic of being in a large social gathering kept the attack at bay. Castiel noticed Dean's uneasiness. "You okay?"
"Yeah," Dean replied.
"Too many people?" Castiel asked.
"Yeah."
"Let's get you a beer. It'll help calm your nerves."
Dean followed Castiel into the kitchen. Liquor bottles, beer cans, cups and bags of melting ice lined all available counter space. Neither boy wanted to ask how there came to be so much alcohol in a house full of under aged teenagers. They just accepted it. They each took a red cup and filled them with beer from the keg that sat on the hardwood floor. Sam found his brother just shortly after Dean had sipped at his beer. It tasted interesting, albeit slightly watery, but Dean actually took to the taste after a few more sips.
"What are you drinking," Sam asked.
"You can't have any," Dean said sternly. His older brother instincts were kicking in.
Sam huffed. "That wasn't what I was implying."
"I know that's what you were implying, bitch. I'm not stupid."
"Fine," Sam gave in to his older brother. As he slumped off to the bonfire, he mumbled something that sounded like a slew of curse words. Dean made out a few jerks that Sam threw in for good measure.
"You know he's going to drink," Castiel said.
"Yeah, I know," Dean said. "I just want to feel like I at least attempted to keep him innocent."
Castiel motioned for Dean to follow him towards the living room. Music was blaring through the sound system. Dean cringed at the pop music.
"What?" Castiel asked. Dean looked at his friend, eyes wide in question. "You made a face."
"Oh," Dean replied. "It's the music."
"You don't like Taylor Swift?"
"Fuck no," Dean said. He sat down on the love seat, the only couch that wasn't occupied.
Castiel mockingly gasped. "How can you not like Swifty?"
Dean laughed, lifting his shoulders in indifference. "I rarely listen to anything past like the early nineties. It's all classic rock and metal for me."
"You'll have to play me some of your favorite bands sometime," Castiel said, sitting down next to his friend. He playfully leaned his shoulder into Dean's. "I apparently have little to no music taste. Says Ash, the king of mullet rock. Whatever that consists of." Dean laughed as he kept their shoulders in contact with each other.
"Dude!" The boys heard someone across the living room exclaim. "You actually came!"
"Yes, Ash. I came," Castiel said.
Ash looked to see who was sitting next to Castiel. His smile widened at how close the two were sitting. "You must be Dean."
"And you must be Ash," Dean said. They shook hands. "What are you dressed as? A Lynyrd Synyrd roadie?"
"He always looks like that," Castiel said.
"Hey, Lynyrd Synyrd rocks. Free bird?" Ash stood defiantly in front of Dean.
Dean put up his hands in defense. "I said nothing against them. I'm just not that into southern rock is all."
"Then what do you like?" Ash asked.
"Led Zeppelin, AC/DC, Boston, Kansas, Black Sabbath, Neil Young, Pink Floyd, Metallica, Jethro Tull, Seger, Cooper, Bowie," Dean started to rail off.
"Alright, I get it, you're a classic rock man." Ash turned to Castiel. He gestured towards Dean and said, "Good choice." Castiel smiled. Heat rushed to his cheeks. He wanted to blame it on the beer, but it was Ash's approval of Dean that sent a warmth through him.
Later in the night Dean found refuge in an empty room. Even with how ever much beer he had consumed, Dean was still having difficulties with being around so many people. All he needed was some peace for himself for a while. Castiel wandered through the house in search of his friend, finding him lounging in an arm chair with a red plastic cup in hand.
Dean wasn't planning on drinking a lot. His father was a reminder for how things could end up being for him if he did consume an obscene amount alcohol. Castiel had poured him some beer from the keg. He felt pressured to at least drink some. And one glass led to three which led to shots and seeing the room spin.
"You okay," Castiel asked. "You left shortly after Ash started making out with that punk chick, Pamela."
"I just needed some space, Cas. I think I'm really drunk." Dean was grinning ear to ear. Castiel chuckled. His friend was slumped in the chair, head lulled to the side and his eyes heavy. The alcohol had made him sleepy. Castiel couldn't stave off a wide grin.
"Drunk Dean is a happy Dean," Castiel remarked.
"Yes he is," Dean said. "Is Cas?"
"Getting there," Castiel said, titling his plastic red cup in his friends' direction.
"Come'ere," Dean said, running the two words together.
"Shit, you're at this stage?"
"What stage?"
"The, 'come'ere' stage. The next is the, 'I love you man,' stage," Castiel said.
"What's after that?" Dean asked.
"Throwing up and blacking out?"
"That doesn't sound fun," Dean said, frowning at the prospect.
"It really isn't." Castiel went over to Dean and took the cup out of his hand. There wasn't anything left. "I'm cutting you off."
"That's fine," Dean replied. "Just come'ere." Dean grabbed Castiel by one of his belt loops. He pulled Castiel closer to him. "Where's your trench and suit jacket?"
"I was hot," Castiel said.
"Yeah you are." Dean had no control over the words that were being spoken. His thoughts and actions were being dictated by the liquid that he consumed. He knew he shouldn't be attempting this in an intoxicated state, but he couldn't control himself. And Castiel wasn't stopping the situation from happening either. So they both went with it.
Castiel dropped Dean's empty red cup onto the carpet. His own was then then downed in one last gulp before joining its partner on the floor. Dean held onto Castiel's belt loops with each pointer finger, aiding him to straddle Dean's lap.
"I still can't believe you dressed as Han Solo," Castiel said.
"It's seriously one of the best love stories ever," Dean said. "Han and Leia will always be my OTP."
"No shit, as it should be."
"I get you're the Doctor, but I've never seen it." Dean grabbed Castiel by the shirt collar.
"I can borrow my friends' DVDs and we can watch it together sometime," Castiel said.
"I'd like that," Dean replied, smiling.
Castiel then placed his hands on Dean's cheeks. He moved closer to Dean. Their lips met. Castiel easily parted his lips and his tongue slowly moved out of his mouth, pushing against Dean's, looking for an invitation. An invitation that Dean quickly accepted. It was drunkenly sloppy, all lips and teeth while their tongues attempted to dance with each other until Castiel pulled away, breathless. "Fuck," he huffed out. "That was better than I had imagined."
Dean kissed Castiel with a peck. "I agree."
They continued kissing, letting their tongues explore each other. After a few minutes it became less sloppy as they felt each other out, letting their self-consciousness recede. The carnal instincts of their bodies spoke volumes. Castiel couldn't help the feeling that overwhelmed his senses. While straddling Dean, he started to grind against him, moving his hips against Dean's in a slow movement that was in time to the bass and drum that filtered from the living room stereo. Castiel's body was aching for more, and he could feel Dean against him, the friction that caused them to both grow hard. Dean then grabbed Castiel's tie, pulling him in closer, wanting to feel more body heat.
They broke away when they heard feet running down the hall. "Some kid is throwing up in the bathroom," they heard.
"Ew, gross," a girl's voice whined.
"I think its Boba Fett. He was downing drinks like water all night," a third voice said.
Castiel rested his forehead against Dean's. "Fuck," Dean moaned.
"You better go get your brother," Castiel said. "And we should probably head home." Castiel stood up, and pulled Dean off the chair. Dean could barely stand, staggering after a few steps towards the door. "You really are drunk," Castiel remarked. "Here," he put his wasted friends' arm around his shoulders. The pair continued on down the hallway towards the bathroom.