for useinsouciant

[singlemantear]

 continued from here.

Dean doesn't get much sleep. He stays in bed, makes sure Cas gets the sleep he needs, but Dean's too keyed up about what he's going to do the next day to get much more than short, fitful bouts of unconsciousness. His dreams are filled with images of anxiety and pain - the face of his brother, a hoard of Croats chasing him, the scorch mark of angel wings across pavement.

As the sun starts to rise, Dean slides out of bed, careful to not wake up Cas, and goes to prepare for what he's gotta do that day. He covers the dining room floor with sheets that will hopefully soak up the blood, he sterilizes the saw and surgical instruments with alcohol he'd gotten at the hospital and gets all the bandages ready. He feels sick but he's got his game face on - determined to do what Cas has asked of him. He isn't thinking beyond the present moment and the one after that and the one after that. He won't think of the future again until after this is over. Cas needs all his attention.

Comments

[useinsouciant]

"Yes." He sounds relieved at the offer. "Yes I think I very much would like a drink." He knows what Dean means. Something to drink is water, or the flat soda from the pantry. A drink means alcohol and Cas feels very much like he needs that right now.

[singlemantear]

"Drinks it is," Dean says as he wraps an arm around Cas's shoulders (careful of his healing wounds) and leads them inside. There's a bottle of whiskey in the pantry.

"Have a seat. Drink's on the house today."

He smirks like he made some great joke before he grabs two glasses from the cabinet and pours them each a couple fingers of the alcohol and sets one in front of Cas before he sits across from him.

[useinsouciant]

"On the house means free, yes?" he asks, looking pleased at himself for remembering as he takes a seat at the kitchen table, pulling his drink over to him. He leans forward a little, to avoid bumping his shoulders against the back of the chair, and it's almost comfortable.

"Is this meant to taste like something in particular?"

[singlemantear]

"Yes it does," Dean says, impressed that Cas remembered that piece of slang.

"Although, I suppose nowadays everything is on the house if you can find it."

The finders keepers economy.

"Good whiskey tastes smoky, maybe a little caramelized, oak, vanilla, pepper. With the underlying alcohol taste of course. This stuff is cheap so it kinda tastes like those things. Mostly burnt oak."

He takes a sip. Dean's never drank much good whiskey anyway. He'll take the burn and the numbing anyway he can get it.

[useinsouciant]

Cas sips at his own, like Dean does. Apparently you're not supposed to drink it all at once, like you do with water. It... certainly tastes like burnt something. Or burning, rather, and he coughs a little as it goes down. "And people drink this willingly. On a regular basis."

[singlemantear]

Dean huffs out a laugh.

"I told you, it's an acquired taste," he says before he takes another large sip. Dean's been known to drink faster than this but they're sitting and enjoying a drink, he's not downing shots at a bar or drinking by himself. Today's about Cas's pain, not his own.

[useinsouciant]

"Acquired is certainly a word for it." He takes a slightly longer sip, like that will help somehow, but it doesn't.

"And if you drink enough of this, you will eventually become intoxicated. Which feels like... what, exactly?"

[singlemantear]

"Sorta depends on your level of intoxication," Dean says. "Warm at first. A little loose and floaty. Happy. Calm maybe. Numb. Like there's nothing you gotta worry about in the world.

"Some people get belligerent, but I think I'm a fun drunk."

Dean grins.

[useinsouciant]

"Calm and numb sound... good." That sounds ideal, right now. Calm and not having to feel anything for a little while, emotionally. Like the pills do for him physically. "I'd like to not have any worries in the world."

[singlemantear]

Dean nods. Cas has earned that.

"Just uh, so you know, when it wears off you usually feel...worse," he says, thinking he should give Cas that head's up.

He'd gotten enough lectures from Sam about alcohol being a depressant for that to not ring in his head. He's always ignored him, but Cas should be forewarned of the side effects of that time of oblivion.

"Nothing's without consequences."

[useinsouciant]

"I've seen you hungover," Cas points out, trying another sip. "You looked terrible. But I am willing to deal with the consequences tomorrow, if it will bring me some peace tonight."

[singlemantear]

Dean reaches his glass out to tap against Cas's.

"I'll drink to that," he says. Dean knows the feeling and he's happy to follow Cas into oblivion. Not entirely, of course. He's gotta keep an eye on the other man. They both can't be stupid at the same time.

[useinsouciant]

A few drinks later and Cas is leaning a little further over the table. Holding on a little tighter to his glass. He does feel warmer. It's a nice feeling. "I think I understand now. Why people do this. This isn't a bad feeling at all. It's comfortable. I feel -- well mostly comfortable. The chair is a little hard."

[singlemantear]

Dean has had the same amount but he's not feeling it that much yet.

"Well, there are other chairs here," he points out. "You need some help getting to one?"

[useinsouciant]

Well it is Cas's first experience with alcohol. "We could -- " He gestures over to the sofa, eyebrows raised. That seems more comfortable than wooden chairs. And he can be closer to Dean that way. Lean, if he needs to.

[singlemantear]

"Yeah, alright," Dean says and gets up. He then helps Cas to his feet and make his way over to the couch, depositing him there carefully. He goes to grab his own half full glass and sits next to Cas, propping his feet up on the coffee table.

"See, not everything about being human is bad. Like the ability to get drunk."

[useinsouciant]

"I am certainly enjoying this ability. If we can't have burgers and pizza and all the food you enjoy, at least we can have this." He's carefully to lean forward a little here, too, to avoid hitting his shoulders. But the sofa is already much more comfortable than wooden chairs.

"I like this. Exploring new human things with you. You're usually patient enough to explain them to me. It's very kind of you."

[singlemantear]

"Dude, it's the least I can do," Dean says as he looks over at Cas. "Believe me, I wish there was more. More than shitty whiskey and old jars of peanut butter."

[useinsouciant]

"The peanut butter isn't so bad. The whiskey is... acquiring, at least." There's so much more that he wants to explore with Dean. Another kiss, certainly. Perhaps something more than a kiss.

But Dean had treated it like the wish of a dying man, and though he continues to share Cas's bed at Cas's request, Cas has been nervous to ask again. He rubs his thumb over his lips and glances over at Dean. Wondering what would happen if he just -- did it. But that seems unfair, to take a second kiss without asking.

So he changes subjects a little. "You still seem fairly sober."

[singlemantear]

Dean thinks about the kiss. He catches Cas watching him and knows he's probably thinking about it too. But Cas has been through something traumatic this week - he's healing and on pain meds. Dean pushes the thoughts aside.

"Yeah, well, the more you drink, the more it takes you to get drunk," Dean explains. "A cruel trick of nature."

He finishes off his whiskey and puts the empty glass onto the table. He doesn't plan on getting drunk tonight anyway. Just taking the edge off.

[useinsouciant]

"And you don't want to get drunk with me tonight," he observes, as Dean sets his glass down and Cas refills his own. "You've been through a hard time as well. I would say you're allowed."

[singlemantear]

"It's your night," Dean says but he grabs for the bottle and pours himself some more. He can get buzzed and still have most of his wits about him.

"I'll need to be ready to hold your hair back."

It's a joke. One that he's not sure Cas will get but he thinks it's funny.

[useinsouciant]

"I don't have that much hair." The comment is confusing, but Dean's smiling, so maybe it was a joke? One he doesn't understand the reference to yet. "Strangely enough, the more I drink, the less it burns when I swallow it."

[singlemantear]

"It just means I'm gonna be there when you're puking your guts out," Dean explains. "If you do. Not saying you will for sure."

He shrugs. Everyone's different. It takes a lot for alcohol to make him throw up.

[useinsouciant]

"I was not aware of this potential side effect." He feels... fine. He feels more than fine. Calm, like Dean had promised. He reaches over to rub his hand over the back of Dean's shoulders. "But you are a good friend, to promise that."