Fine || Destiel

One

Castiel's POV

...

It was another night at Wilde's Chateau 24, my new guilty pleasure, and I had already lost count of the cherry vodka's I've already drunk. I pulled my cheap tie loose and looked at my best friend, Charlie, who was serving drinks and flirting with another new girl. I looked down at my empty glass and sighed. My life wasn't going anywhere, and I had no time to fix it now that I was diagnosed.

"Hey, Cassy, how are you holding up? Want another drink?" Charlie asked, already starting to mix a cherry vodka for me. I eyed the drink in disgust and reminded the rational side of my brain that I only drank for the few hours of happiness. The chatter about the bar suddenly seemed deafening.

"I'm fine, I guess, I mean... I am slowly dying." I muttered with my usually gravelly voice deeper than usual and thick with alcohol. I cleared my throat in an attempt to sound at least somewhat sober.

"Cheer up. Cas, you aren't dying yet. Live in the now," Charlie paused, glancing across the bar with a small smile. "And go talk to him." Her finger pointed to a man that sat across the bar, complete with beautiful green eyes and a leather jacket that looked a few years too old. He was focused on a man that was slightly younger than himself who had longer hair. They talked pretty intimately, the younger one sipping at his beer as he barked a laugh. I sipped at my newly made drink before responding to her suggestion.

"He already has a boyfriend, Charlie." I looked down at my still full glass. It was like I never took a sip at all. Charlie scoffed and sauntered away towards the two men. After an excruciatingly long time, she returned with a smug grin, explaining that they're brothers and go by the last name Winchester. I took another glance at the two, only to make eye contact with the shorter man.

"He's coming over," Charlie whispered in my ear, snatching my tie off my neck and moving away to serve another girl, a flirty smile on her red lips. The tie was lost behind the counter as the man approached, the taller one in tow.

"Why were you staring at me, you bitch?" He growled at me, his once light green eyes not as bright as they were before. They had morphed into a darker shade of green - almost an emerald color - and were full of irritation. He was quite intimidating.

"I'm sorry, sir, but I wasn't exactly staring at you in particular. I was staring in that general direction. Do you have a problem with that? Also, I am clearly not female," I stated calmly, gesturing to my attire with an annoyed expression. I didn't want to get kicked out of another gay bar. I just want to drink my problems away.

"Just... Just don't look in my direction at all. It's creepy. Okay?" He sighed losing his edgy vibe. His face wore an almost flirtatious smile.

"I won't. Sorry," I muttered turning away from him. He was a good looking guy but his personality was downright awful. After a moment, the man let out a sigh. I felt a hand on my shoulder and was spun around forcibly. He had turned me back around to face him, his face closer to mine then it should have been. I let my face morph into a glare.

"Your eyes... they're so blue," He whispered as he gently stared into my eyes.

"You're really drunk," I stated, his breath was strong of beer and gin. It filled my nose with the smell of alcohol and I fought the urge to cough dramatically. Anything to get away.

"So are you, you've had like nine cherry vodkas in an hour."

"Dean, leave him be. He looks like he doesn't want any trouble," The guy with long hair interrupted, and I assumed that he is the brother of the strange, but beautiful man - Dean - which is still too close for my liking.

"Shut up Sammy! I'm talking to this beautiful eyed man right now." 'Sammy' rolled his eyes and wandered back to the other side of the bar. I flinched at Dean's sudden change of tone. My brain attempted to ignore his words. "Sorry, um..." He looked at me expectantly.

"Castiel," I mumbled softly and his face lit up in a grin. The sudden smile had me staring, but he was already an assbutt in my book. Suddenly, he gripped my hand tightly and ran out of the bar with me tagging along, leaving Sammy behind. He pulled me to a black '67 Impala that I guessed was his. I made no move to protest, already knowing where this was heading. I'd do anything to get a moment of happiness, right? I'm so pitiful.

"Well? Get in," He commanded, opening the door for me. I obliged and got into his car, buckling up. I couldn't deny that I wasn't excited. My fingers tapped on my knee impatiently as he rounded the car and got in on the drivers' side, starting his car before driving to a rancid motel room. For once, I wasn't dreading leaving with a strange man.