Destiel One Shots

15. Smells Like The Impala

Sam walked in the bar and saw a familiar man in a tan trench coat sitting on a stool doing shots. So this is where Cas has been going. He had a feeling he'd be here, judging by his recent behavioral changes. He sat down next to him.

"Cas, what're you doing here?" He asked, not expecting a sober response.

"What's it look like?" He muttered, slurring his words a bit. A few more shots and he'd be wasted, Sam could tell.

"It looks like you're getting drunk instead of helping us with our case. Again."

"What makes you think I've done this on several occasions?"

"I didn't say several. But now I've gotta ask, has this happened on several occasions?"

Cas paused awkwardly. "Maybe." He muttered. He took another shot, which seemed like it was gonna be the death of him.

"Dude, what's up with you lately? You're acting... weird."

"Maybe this is what happens when you become human. You drink your problems away. That's what Dean does."

"Not like this. Sure he has a beer every now and then, but he doesn't get hammered!"

Cas chuckled. "Sam, I have no hammer." Sam rolled his eyes.

"Is there something bothering you?"

Cas shrugged. "I dunno. Being human is just... so much effort. It's boring and painful and... slow. It is so slow." He started talking slowly to add emphasis. Or he was that drunk.

"Being human isn't all bad. It's got its bright spots."

"These emotions and feelings are bad enough."

"Emotions are a good thing. You just... have to know... how to control them." Sam was struggling to find the right words.

"There's one in particular that's puzzles me most." Sam half smiled at his grammatical error, but he didn't say anything.

"What would that be?"

"I don't know what it is exactly, but it's annoying. I can't eat, I can't sleep, and I get tinglies in my stomach whenever I'm with Dean."

Sam contained his laughter as best he could, but it was extremely difficult.

"Uh, Cas, I'm no expert, but I'm pretty sure that's love."

Cas looked at him. "Really?" He asked breathily.

"Yeah, pretty sure."

"Do you... do you think I should tell him?" He was about to pass out. Sam actually wasn't sure how to respond to this. Should he tell Dean?

"I don't know. Maybe. Come on, we should get back to the bunker."

He got Cas on his feet and practically dragged him to the Impala. He got him in the passenger seat and drove to the bunker. Cas passed out, softly snoring.

Sam parked the Impala in the bunker garage and cut off the ignition. He patted Cas on the shoulder.

"Cas, we're here. Wake up, buddy." Cas groaned as he woke, clearly not wanting to move from that spot.

"I don't wanna. The Impala smells like Dean. Or Dean smells like the Impala. It's hard to tell."

"Trust me, a bed will be a lot more comfortable than the Impala."

"Not worth the effort."

"You can't sleep out here, man. It'll get cold. And there is no way in hell that I am carrying you in there."

"Mm tired. Too tired." He mumbled almost incoherently. Sam sighed and got out of the car. He walked around to the other side and opened the passenger door. He gave Cas a pat on the cheek.

"Come on, you can make it."

"I can't even feel my legs."

Sam suddenly thought of something. "If you come inside with me, you get to see Dean again." Cas opened his eyes and smiled a little. He yawned.

"Mm-kay."

He sat up and tried his best to stand, but his knees were so wobbly. He leaned on Sam for support. Sam smiled at his effort. At least he was trying. Apparently some people just can't hold their liquor.

"Sam, I think I've been drugged." Cas groaned.

Sam scoffed. "Yeah, with whiskey."

They managed to get inside where Dean was sitting in the library. He saw Cas's drunken state and looked concerned.

"Is he okay?"

"Yeah. He's on a bender." Sam answered.

Dean's worried expression became one of amusement. He chuckled. Cas looked at him and smiled.

"Hello, Dean." He slurred, still leaning against the moose. Dean smiled as well.

"Hey, Cas. Don't worry, Sam, I'll take it from here." Dean wrapped his arm around Cas's shoulders, who gripped him tight for extra support. He looked up at him, right in the eye.

"You smell like the Impala." And he collapsed in Dean's arms, leaving him no other choice than to carry him up to his room bridal style.

He gently lowered him onto the bed, tucking him into the blanket. He was about to leave until he heard Cas.

"No. Stay. Please." He muttered sleepily. Dean looked down at him and smiled. He was a cute drunk, that much was certain.

He laid down next to Cas, the two of them wrapped up in the blanket. He wrapped his arms around his waist, closing his eyes in an attempt to sleep. He gave Cas a kiss on the forehead.

And he fell asleep with the cutest alcoholic angel in the world.