Sam+Dean+Castiel: Happy Friggin' New Years

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Today was New Year's Eve. Sounds fun, right? The reason Dean liked it was because it was basically an excuse to get drunk.

"Sam...can you stop working for one second?" Dean says, referring to his hours of research the younger has been doing a lot of lately.

"Sam. Come on. It's New Year's Eve."

"Your point being?" Sam questioned, not looking up from his computer.

"Get off the damn laptop for two seconds and have some fun, will you? Get drunk, get laid, I don't care. Just...enough of the damn research." Dean pleaded.

Sam finally looks up from the laptop, glares at Dean, then slams the laptop shut.

"Give me a beer."

"That's my boy."
Dean says and proceeded to the fridge to grab the drink.

"Thank you. Now let's watch the ball drop."

Suddenly the boys hear the flutter of wings, then Castiel appears in-front of the tv.

"Sam, I find the ball dropping quite tedious." Castiel stares blankly at the television.

"I agree with Cas. What's the point of that?" Dean questioned.

"Just shut up and watch." Sam demanded, taking a swing of beer.

"Ten seconds remaining." Castiel says.

"Whatever." Dean plops onto the couch, bored with his surroundings.

"That's it! Happy friggin' New Year." Dean raises his beer can in the air, clinking cans with Sam.

"Happy New Year's, Dean. Sam."

And that was the end of that.

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