Ramble On
Title: Ramble On
Rating: PG-13 (substances)
Summary: The not-so-crazy shenanigans that Castiel gets himself into by just being a college kid trying to fit in with society.
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Castiel was pretty sure he'd had a few too many hits from the joint by now. Either that, or the alchohol was getting to him. I mean, it was bad enough that Dean was already hot pre-inebriants, but this was just torture. Dean's lips curling around that cigarette, playing with the smoke before each exhale. Castiel knew that Jimmy was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't be bothered to even look at the other man in lieu of tearing his gaze away from how Dean's mouth moved with each word, teeth flashing in well-placed smile.
The worst part about it had to be whenever Dean decided he needed to cross the threshold of Jimmy and Castiel's legs - which were knee to knee across from one another. The younger teen made a huge show about it, stomach parallel to Castiel's face as he straddled the other man's thighs in an attempt to grab the bottle of rum that was sitting on the table.
The gesture in itself would have been completely innocent - if Jimmy hadn't caught onto Castiel's crush months ago. Castiel already knew is brother wasn't fit to drive, and this fact was even moreso solidified whenever the younger twin laughed and shoved Dean's ass - causing Dean to jerk his hips towards Castiel's face. Rolling with the joke, Dean faked a woman's orgasm for a split second and then grabbed Castiel's shoulder to steady himself.
Instead of moving, however, Dean glanced down at Cas and smiled. "How you doin'?" He joked. Castiel quickly tore his hand from where it had flown to Dean's thigh to steady the other man, and he grinned weakly.
"Must we meet like this every time?" He joked back. Dean laughed, grabbed the rum, and sat back down.
Castiel hunched lower in his seat and wished he had more balls to say something else.
-----
Castiel refreshed his facebook. again. for the fifth time. Why? Why was he doing this obsessively? He'd just left Dean a comment that could make or break their fucking friendship, that's why. What else could it be after posting a rather lewd comment on the man's display picture of himself - SHIRTLESS- at the damn beach. How else could he play off the fact that he, himself, was in the background, BLATANTLY staring at Dean's ass?
'What a fine companion you have there, though his eyes aren't on the camera. I wonder why.' What the fuck kind of comment was that? Castiel regretted it the moment he'd finalized the comment. His finger was lurking the small 'x' needed to delete the comment but the damage was done. Dean would get the notification no matter what, and query where the note had gone if Castiel deleted it.
Castiel buried his face into his hands, chest tight with anticipation. He glanced up again to see a response in his notification box and attacked his mouse with a fury to click it.
'Buns of steel, man. How can you not look? B^)'
What the fuck kind of comment was THAT. Castiel stared, trying to comprehend what Dean could have been thinking. What could have possibly crossed his completely HETEROSEXUAL friend's mind to flirt back? Was this even flirting? Was this what Dean called 'dicking around'?
Castiel groaned and pushed himself back and away from the computer.
Facebook was far too stressful.
------
"So what, are you bi or something?"
Castiel wasn't the one who asked it, but he was on edge about the answer already. Sure, Dean had just gotten over his fling with Lisa Braeden, (Castiel would call their relationship nothing more than a 'fling' because the woman obviously wasn't good enough for Dean Winchester.) but the man had been making flirtatious passes at anything with two legs.
Dean scoffed, scooching back in his chair and nursing his beer with a shrug. "I donno. I don't think so. Most guys aren't hot. Just a few - like Brad Pitt. That man is someone I'd go gay for in a heartbeat..."
Castiel felt his heart sink, staring down at his own can of cheap beer. A battle with Brad Pitt was something that he couldn't fathom winning - no matter how muscular Castiel got. Brad Pitt was the god of sexy men, Castiel was not. Castiel was the god of sitting awkwardly in a corner of the room and laughing at bad jokes while failing to contribute his own.
Cas fiddled with the tab of his beer, bending it back and forth until it broke off. He tossed it in the trash bin and looked up to lock eyes with Dean. Confusion struck the older man and he tilted his head to the side in query. Dean looked away with a soft laugh and shook his head.
Now Castiel was all sorts of confused. He didn't like random laughs without purpose - they drove him insane. If you were going to laugh about something to yourself, you'd better share with the damn class.
Castiel leaned back into his seat and watched Chuck go through his fifth beer like it was a bottle of water. For such a tiny man, Chuck was probably the biggest heavyweight out of all of them when it came to drinking. Castiel took a sip from his beer and glanced over to see Dean watching him again.
Now it was just getting annoying, and it was getting Castiel's hopes up and he for damn sure didn't like that. Castiel hated getting excited over nothing. Getting someone's hopes up was the worst thing a man could do to a person. Castiel was proud to say he was a pessimist, because setting yourself up for disappointment was a sure-fire way not to get your hopes shattered when things didn't work out how you wanted them to.
Castiel tore his gaze away from Dean's knee to stare into his beer can, fingering the mouth of it thoughtfully.
-----
Okay, he was pretty sure that last drink had been the one to do him in. Far too dizzy and disoriented to deal with the general populace (which equated to everyone surrounding the giant bonfire and nearby areas of Dean's birthday party) Castiel had decided that the space between the television and coffee table was the perfect place to lay down and enjoy the sensation of being completely shitfaced drunk.
There was a hand on his stomach, rubbing up and down and up again. Castiel cracked an eye open at the warm sensation to see Dean hunched down next to him, rubbing Castiel's belly like he was some fucking dog.
"You okay, man?" Dean asked, though his words were the slightest bit slurred. Castiel grinned crookedly up at his friend, reaching out without a second thought and holding Dean's hand against his hip.
"I'm great. " He chirped, eyes crossing for a moment. Dean laughed, giving Castiel's hip a squeeze and leaning forward. Castiel had no time to react when his friend placed a sloppy kiss againsst his brow before the man leaned back to wander back out to his party.
Castiel lay against the floor, closing his eyes and replaying the feeling of Dean's fingers against his stomach over and over again.
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Rating: PG-13 (substances)
Summary: The not-so-crazy shenanigans that Castiel gets himself into by just being a college kid trying to fit in with society.
-
Castiel was pretty sure he'd had a few too many hits from the joint by now. Either that, or the alchohol was getting to him. I mean, it was bad enough that Dean was already hot pre-inebriants, but this was just torture. Dean's lips curling around that cigarette, playing with the smoke before each exhale. Castiel knew that Jimmy was trying to talk to him, but he couldn't be bothered to even look at the other man in lieu of tearing his gaze away from how Dean's mouth moved with each word, teeth flashing in well-placed smile.
The worst part about it had to be whenever Dean decided he needed to cross the threshold of Jimmy and Castiel's legs - which were knee to knee across from one another. The younger teen made a huge show about it, stomach parallel to Castiel's face as he straddled the other man's thighs in an attempt to grab the bottle of rum that was sitting on the table.
The gesture in itself would have been completely innocent - if Jimmy hadn't caught onto Castiel's crush months ago. Castiel already knew is brother wasn't fit to drive, and this fact was even moreso solidified whenever the younger twin laughed and shoved Dean's ass - causing Dean to jerk his hips towards Castiel's face. Rolling with the joke, Dean faked a woman's orgasm for a split second and then grabbed Castiel's shoulder to steady himself.
Instead of moving, however, Dean glanced down at Cas and smiled. "How you doin'?" He joked. Castiel quickly tore his hand from where it had flown to Dean's thigh to steady the other man, and he grinned weakly.
"Must we meet like this every time?" He joked back. Dean laughed, grabbed the rum, and sat back down.
Castiel hunched lower in his seat and wished he had more balls to say something else.
-----
Castiel refreshed his facebook. again. for the fifth time. Why? Why was he doing this obsessively? He'd just left Dean a comment that could make or break their fucking friendship, that's why. What else could it be after posting a rather lewd comment on the man's display picture of himself - SHIRTLESS- at the damn beach. How else could he play off the fact that he, himself, was in the background, BLATANTLY staring at Dean's ass?
'What a fine companion you have there, though his eyes aren't on the camera. I wonder why.' What the fuck kind of comment was that? Castiel regretted it the moment he'd finalized the comment. His finger was lurking the small 'x' needed to delete the comment but the damage was done. Dean would get the notification no matter what, and query where the note had gone if Castiel deleted it.
Castiel buried his face into his hands, chest tight with anticipation. He glanced up again to see a response in his notification box and attacked his mouse with a fury to click it.
'Buns of steel, man. How can you not look? B^)'
What the fuck kind of comment was THAT. Castiel stared, trying to comprehend what Dean could have been thinking. What could have possibly crossed his completely HETEROSEXUAL friend's mind to flirt back? Was this even flirting? Was this what Dean called 'dicking around'?
Castiel groaned and pushed himself back and away from the computer.
Facebook was far too stressful.
------
"So what, are you bi or something?"
Castiel wasn't the one who asked it, but he was on edge about the answer already. Sure, Dean had just gotten over his fling with Lisa Braeden, (Castiel would call their relationship nothing more than a 'fling' because the woman obviously wasn't good enough for Dean Winchester.) but the man had been making flirtatious passes at anything with two legs.
Dean scoffed, scooching back in his chair and nursing his beer with a shrug. "I donno. I don't think so. Most guys aren't hot. Just a few - like Brad Pitt. That man is someone I'd go gay for in a heartbeat..."
Castiel felt his heart sink, staring down at his own can of cheap beer. A battle with Brad Pitt was something that he couldn't fathom winning - no matter how muscular Castiel got. Brad Pitt was the god of sexy men, Castiel was not. Castiel was the god of sitting awkwardly in a corner of the room and laughing at bad jokes while failing to contribute his own.
Cas fiddled with the tab of his beer, bending it back and forth until it broke off. He tossed it in the trash bin and looked up to lock eyes with Dean. Confusion struck the older man and he tilted his head to the side in query. Dean looked away with a soft laugh and shook his head.
Now Castiel was all sorts of confused. He didn't like random laughs without purpose - they drove him insane. If you were going to laugh about something to yourself, you'd better share with the damn class.
Castiel leaned back into his seat and watched Chuck go through his fifth beer like it was a bottle of water. For such a tiny man, Chuck was probably the biggest heavyweight out of all of them when it came to drinking. Castiel took a sip from his beer and glanced over to see Dean watching him again.
Now it was just getting annoying, and it was getting Castiel's hopes up and he for damn sure didn't like that. Castiel hated getting excited over nothing. Getting someone's hopes up was the worst thing a man could do to a person. Castiel was proud to say he was a pessimist, because setting yourself up for disappointment was a sure-fire way not to get your hopes shattered when things didn't work out how you wanted them to.
Castiel tore his gaze away from Dean's knee to stare into his beer can, fingering the mouth of it thoughtfully.
-----
Okay, he was pretty sure that last drink had been the one to do him in. Far too dizzy and disoriented to deal with the general populace (which equated to everyone surrounding the giant bonfire and nearby areas of Dean's birthday party) Castiel had decided that the space between the television and coffee table was the perfect place to lay down and enjoy the sensation of being completely shitfaced drunk.
There was a hand on his stomach, rubbing up and down and up again. Castiel cracked an eye open at the warm sensation to see Dean hunched down next to him, rubbing Castiel's belly like he was some fucking dog.
"You okay, man?" Dean asked, though his words were the slightest bit slurred. Castiel grinned crookedly up at his friend, reaching out without a second thought and holding Dean's hand against his hip.
"I'm great. " He chirped, eyes crossing for a moment. Dean laughed, giving Castiel's hip a squeeze and leaning forward. Castiel had no time to react when his friend placed a sloppy kiss againsst his brow before the man leaned back to wander back out to his party.
Castiel lay against the floor, closing his eyes and replaying the feeling of Dean's fingers against his stomach over and over again.
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