Bring It On Home- A Destiel AU [COMPLETED]

Chapter 10

Stop, Dean. No.

Dean woke up with a massive headache throbbing in his temples. He was in a pile of blankets in his living room and the fire had died so it was goddamn freezing and he was alone.

And he couldn't remember what had happened.

No. You're just drunk.

He could hear Cas's voice saying that phrase in his mind. He tried to replay the events in his mind; they'd gotten really fucking drunk, played card games, talked about the Nature channel, then Cas was the mayor of Drunktown, and then... he'd asked Cas to quit whatever drugs he took, and then... then...

It matters to me, Dean!

He couldn't remember. But he'd done something, because he could remember Cas stopping him, or at least his voice.... And now Cas was gone. Fuck. Dean groaned and buried himself back in the blankets and tried to ignore the knot in his stomach.

And then he heard a clanking noise from the kitchen.

Dean wrapped a blanket around his shoulders and walked to the kitchen.

Cas was fiddling with the stove, where he'd set a saucepan; next to him on the counter was a box of spaghetti noodles. He was still in his long underwear, but he had also donned his parka and his monkey hat, and Dean's robe was draped over a kitchen chair. "Thank God you have a gas range," he said.

"Good morning to you too," Dean remarked groggily, rubbing his fist in his eye. "What happened last night?"

Cas dumped the spaghetti noodles in the pot and began rummaging in the fridge. "It snowed another eight inches. I assume you won't be driving to work."

Dean shucked off his blanket and put on his robe, and then set down to the table with a groan. The smell of food was making him queasy. "No, I mean, after we got drunk. I can't remember much, but... I remember..." He closed his eyes. "I think you were upset about something."

Cas stopped his rummaging, and slowly closed the fridge door. "Well," he said. "I don't remember that."

"Really?" Dean asked. "Nothing? Cuz you seemed... less drunk than I was, anyways."

Castiel shook his head and didn't quite look at Dean.

"Oh." Dean chuckled hoarsely. "I guess it doesn't matter then, if we both forgot..."

Cas returned to the stove and stirred the spaghetti. "I recall a lengthy discussion about gazelles."

Dean groaned and put his head in his hands. "Yeah, I remember that. To be fair, you completely agreed with me."

"You also sold me your car in exchange for my half of the blanket."

Dean started and sat straight up. "No! I did not!"

Cas looked over his shoulder and jumped his eyebrows up and down. "I got your signature. Legally binding."

Dean rolled his eyes. "Haha, very funny. I'm not giving you the car."

"If you violate the terms of the contract..." Cas sighed heavily. "I have the right to institute a Gayballs Hour whenever I so chose, and you cannot object."

Dean felt his whole face get warm. "Oh, Christ, I remember that. I said that, didn't I? The Gayballs Hour? Jesus, I was drunk."

Cas turned up the stove. "Christmas is this Friday."

Dean rubbed his temple. "I know. My uncle Bobby is flying up to visit, but he can't make it until Saturday."

Cas turned around and leaned against the oven, and he looked at Dean and pressed his lips together and tugged on the dangling ties of his monkey hat. Then finally he took a deep breath and asked, "Would you like to come to my house for Christmas?"

For a second, Dean was speechless. "S-sure!" he stammered. "Yes!"

And in that moment he realized that this whole time he'd been sitting at his windows and wondering what the hell Cas was doing in that house, never actually going over and finding out for himself, he'd just been waiting to be invited.

Cas grinned and turned back to the spaghetti. "Bring some rolls," he said. "And gummy bears."