The Square » Sabriel & Destiel

Chapter 9

"What's wrong with you?" Dean groans, plopping down onto his bed. "Nothing," Castiel sighs, "I'm fine."

"Cas," Dean shakes his head, "The wine will speak the truth eventually." He swishes the red alcohol around in the cup, smirking slightly. "It's already spoken," he laughs softly, rubbing up and down Deans bare chest. "And as much fun as this always is," he grins, kissing down the other males jaw and neck, "I really, really have to go."

"So soon?" Cas pouts, connecting their lips, slowly rolling on top. "Oh, Cas," Dean groans again, falling for those soft pair of lips, "Come on."

"Fine," he sighs, their hands locked, "Where are you going?"

"Not that it's any of your business," Dean grins, their noses brushing, "But, out for drinks with a friend."

"And you can't be a little late?"

"You're killing me!" The Winchester shifts away from Castiels lips, slipping from underneath him. "When can I see you again?" Dean asks, pulling his shirt down. "I don't know," Cas gets out of bed, fixes Deans hair, then heads for his own clothes, "I'll call you. Have fun with your friend," he pecks Dean, who stands memorized. He smiles faintly and looks at the keys in his hands, jiggling them, "Alright, you can let yourself out, right?"

"Right," Cas grins.

~

"Hey Gabe," Dean greets, dragging out his 'y'. He rounds into the booth across from his, so called, date. "Dean," Gabe raises his cup, "Please tell me that you're drinking tonight."

"Try and keep up," Dean smirks.

•

Gabriel wakes up, his head pounding. After finding the will to sit up, he opens an eye to an unfamiliar bedroom. "Oh god," he whispers, slightly panicked as he peeks under the covers, at least he has boxers on. And a shirt, but not his shirt, Deans.

"Gabe?" Dean rubs his eyes to make sure he's seeing this right, "This is just great."

"Yeah, uh, did we...?" He gestures between them and Dean scoffs. "Man, I can't even remember leaving the damn club. But I woke up on the couch, that's not always a sign that people slept together," he pinches the bridge of his nose, trying hard to recall last night.

The two plan to set out to retrace their steps, hopefully finding an answer to what went down.

"I should probably get dressed. You need clothes?"

"Got any pants that I can fit?" Gabe cocks an eyebrow and Dean sighs. "Um, yeah. I should."

After getting their clothes figured out, they go to the strip club they had met at. Each have their own reason for finding the truth, so neither ask the other.

Dean taps the shorter males shoulder, nudging his head to the left, "She was our waitress last night."

"Right, I remember her." They approach her from behind, standing quietly until she finishes clearing a table.

"Oh..you guys," she breaths, looking a bit annoyed. "Yeah, uh," Dean chuckles nervously, "Cin—Ashley," he reads off her name tag, "Do you remember us leaving last night?"

"No."

Both men slouch.

"But," Ashley continues, "I left before you did and Mindy," she points her out, "She took over my shift. She might know something."

"Thanks," they say in unison, hurrying to the other girl.

"Hey, Mindy, right?"

"Mhm," she nods, pouring a drink for someone, "Can I help you?"

"Uh, yes actually," Gabe starts this time, "Did you see us leave last night?"

"Yeah," Mindy shrugs, "You guys said something about going to a bar."

"A bar?" Dean question to himself, then looks over at Gabriel for answers. "I know the nearest one, maybe we went there," he suggest. "Alright, lets go."

~

"Not you guys," the bar tender glares, "Larry!"

"Woah, woah, woah!" Dean puts his hands out, "We just have some questions!" She sighs with a small eye role and puts an arm out to stop security, "What?"

"We were definitely here," Gabe comments with a little laugh. "Shh," Dean chuckles.

"What did we do last night?"

"You're serious?" She places her hands on her hips. They share glances and then nod. "Well you guys came in, piss drunk, asking for shots of whiskey." They shrug and nod some more, sounds like them. "Yeah, then this one," she directs toward Gabriel, "Spilled beer on his shirt so you gave him yours. We have a strict 'No shirt, no shoes, no service' policy, so we asked you to leave."

"And?" Dean squints. "And you refused, hit someone. You ended up being dragged out."

"The asshole probably deserved it," Dean defends, standing his ground. A man growls from another part of the bar, standing to his feet. "Woah," Dean laughs, "What happened to you?" The man has a black eye and a bandage over his noes.

"I'm that asshole you hit," he says through gritted teeth. "Oh," Dean sort of whispers, attempting to hide his cocky grin. "Stand down Larry," the bar tender waves off. "You got your answers, now get out."

Dean surrenders and turns to leave.

"Dude," Gabe lightly shoves him, "You punched a security guard?"

"Yeah, well."

"Whatever. So that explains why I had your shirt on but we still don't know what happened after that."

"I slept on the couch, let's just say nothing happened?" Dean suggests. "Deal."

They go their separate ways, both heading home. Even though it's mid afternoon, Deans ready for bed already. He picks a few things up on his way, a shiny pack under the bed catching his attention. Dean reached under and picks it up, a used condom rapper in his hand. He quickly runs to the garbage in his bathroom..finding the disposed condom.

"Shit."