Rating: PG
Disclaimer: I own nothing. I wish I did, but I don't.
Summary: "Casss," slurred Dean, a lazy smile across his face.
Notes: Thanks to hunters_retreat for the awesome beta.

"Casss," slurred Dean, a lazy smile across his face.

The Angel frowned. "Drinking isn't good for you."

"Yeah well what else can you do when your brother is slowly turning into the anti-Christ?" retorted Dean, averting his gaze away from Castiel's scrutinizing eyes.

"Have faith-" began Castiel only to be cut off by the hunter.

"Yeah, yeah," replied Dean. "I don't want to talk about it."

Understandingly Castiel sat on the bed beside the other man. "What would you prefer to talk about?"

Dean turned his head, facing the Angel. "Honestly, I'd prefer not to talk at all."

Confused, Castiel just titled his head analysing Dean's face, not registering the hunter's actions as he leaned in, capturing the Angel's lips in his own. Touch was still a rather new sensation to Castiel, as was taste. He could taste the strong traces of whiskey on the hunter's lips, as Dean pulled him closer.

They parted seconds later when Dean's need for air could no longer be ignored. He knew he was probably smiling like a goofball, but Castiel didn't seem to notice and if he did he didn't care. The Angel still hadn't removed his hands from Dean's body.

"Never would have tried to do that if I was sober," smiled Dean, his breathing back under control. "Guess being drunk has its advantages."