The Impossible Happy

Dry Lips

Sam was collecting his bags and crudely attempting small talk, trying to cover up the apparent tension in the room. What was up with these two, anyways? For weeks now the two had seemed more awkward than usual. But then, it was Castiel, anything he did was socially awkward. But Dean? He'd been acting really weird. Not just the whole gay thing, that wasn't news to Sam anyways. It was just when he was around the Angel. As subtle as a shift in his body weight, a flick of the tongue across dry lips. Most wouldn't notice, but Sam did.

He knew Dean Winchester inside and out. And Dean, with all his indomitable spirit, was never this uneasy.

"Uh, okay I think that's all." He gestured to the bags in front of him. "Cellphone, laptop--"

"Condoms" Dean smirked, Sam rolled his eyes.

"Uh, okay. See you guys" He haphazardly put up one hand in goodbye as he wrestled with the door handle. Dean nodded back and turned to walk down the staircase. Dean can see the Angel, still standing where he left him.

"Uh, Cas?" Dean cleared his throat.

"Oh, Dean. Sam has left?"

"Yeah. Uh, you haven't moved for like half an hour. You good?"

"Oh. Yes. I was just thinking." There is silence. Dean finally sighed.

"I need a drink" he headed for the whiskey, followed closely by the Angel. Castiel hovered over the mans shoulder as he poured a glass.

"Uh, you want?" He picked up another glass and gestured. A slight smile almost brushing past the boys lips.

"I am a celestial being I--"

"Yeah, yeah we've all heard the sob story. You're drinkin' whiskey tonight." Dean poured and handed the glass to Castiel who hesitantly took it. "Wether you like it or not" Dean smiled at himself.

"Hey Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?"

"Let's get wasted"
----------------------------------------------
Empty cans of beer, shot glasses, and empty bottles of hard liquor were strewn across the main floor of the bunker. On top of one certain mahogany desk in the library lied a highly inebriated Dean Winchester quietly humming Fortunate Son, he was barely awake and the only thought that kept him conscious was the ruffled looking man lying on the ground opposite him. He knew Castiel was awake, since Castiel can't sleep anyways, but some how, that made him want to stay up, too. To be with him in a way that, though not intimate, felt close, and real. To be conscious, shit faced drunk, but conscious. Together.

This was certainly not articulated inside of Dean's head at the time, but it was, thinking back, what he was trying to make happen. He continued his humming, rolling over to his side as to face the Angel on the ground.

"Psst. Cassy."

"Hm?'

"I'm very very very drunk" he sounded as a toddler would, stretching and slurring his words. "and you're very very very pretty." He giggled.

Castiel hardly absorbed the words being said to him.

"Mhm, Dean"

"you're so pretty. I just wanna-I just wanna kiss you righ' now."

"Okay, Dean"

Dean smiled to himself but made no move for the Angel at hand. Several minutes passed.

"Dean?" Castiel seemed more alert, now.

"Yeah, Cassie?"

"I want you... to kiss me."

Silence.

Dean was hardly digesting what had just been said when the Angel clumsily got up and began walking towards the boy. He crawled on top of Dean haphazardly. He was utterly shocked into silence.

"Kiss me, Dean"

Dean's mouth hung open as he stared at the man lying on top of him. Dean slowly leant forwards, not knowing what to think. Castiel just stared at the boy. He slowly took Dean's face in his hands, caressing a worn cheek. Dean was still too drunk to realize what was happening. The Angel was also not sure what was happening, but knew it felt right. It had to be.

The touching of lips.
*****
Dean's lips were dry. But they were still, inexplicably, soft. Tender on the mouth of Castiel. There was a strange warmth emanating from them that Castiel couldn't quite place. The kiss was passionate, and full of drunken meaning. Hands wandering, cheeks flaming. It seemed unreal, an event taking place in some parallel universe where everything was okay, where Castiel wasn't hunted and Dean wasn't hunter. It was too perfect, too precious, for this world. But no matter, on that table, in that moment, one Angel and one hunter found one another.

Though unspoken, a spark had been ignited. The kind that could seldom be ignored.