cloudy_fic

Title: First Time
Author: CloudyJenn
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Beta: None
Warnings: Silliness
Summary: Castiel wants his first taste of alcohol. Dean worries about him.
Author's Notes: I wrote this for this prompt at the Dean/Cas kink meme. Fluffy and goofy. Enjoy!

The very first thing Castiel wants to do after the end of the world ends is go to a bar.

Which is just fine with Dean, although he's a little concerned. After all, the guy just lost his wings. He's not really the same anymore and while Dean won't admit it, he's a little worried about Castiel. It's almost like he's taking this change too well. Dean's would have thought there'd be more trouble adjusting, more despondency over being downgraded. He'd have sure had some himself, but then, the next step down from human is probably a lot worse than the next step down from angel.

Still, he's not here to run Castiel's life and if the ex-angel wants to drink, Dean'll just go along and make sure he doesn't pass out in public. He makes Sam go along too because the kid's not exactly been himself lately either. Maybe a couple of belts will melt away that mopey expression of guilt for a few hours.

Castiel insists on choosing the bar and Dean is surprised when he picks a fairly rundown joint in a not-so-great section of downtown Chicago. After they slide into a table with only a few sticky places on its ratty wooden surface, Castiel explains why they are there.

"I need to accept my new humanity," Castiel says and even though Dean feels vulnerable just hearing it, Castiel doesn't seem too upset. "Humans like to drink, so I thought I should give it a try."

Castiel's never had alcohol before, despite Dean's attempts to convince him to give it a try. Something about the effects being wasted on an angelic being. But Castiel is no longer angelic and so Dean smiles in anticipation. He'd have paid good money to see Castiel drunk and here the man is offering to let him see it for free.

"Sounds good to me," Dean said, standing and jerking a thumb over his shoulders. "I'll get the first round."

He leaves the table before Castiel can say anything because he's not going to pass up the chance to choose Castiel's first foray into the world of alcohol. At the bar, Dean orders a beer each for himself and Sammy and a shot of expensive single malt whiskey for Cas. He wonders if it's a bad idea to start Castiel out on something really good, in case Cas gets the idea it all tastes this way. Then he decides he doesn't care. Castiel deserves a good drink.

"Here," he says when he gets back to the table and hands Castiel the shot glass.

Castiel peers at the small glass as if fascinated, then takes it from Dean's hand and Dean ignores the rush of heat he feels when their fingers brush. "I drink it all at once?"

"You don't have to," Dean assures him. "Sipping might be better for a beginner."

Dean tries not to feel too pleased when Castiel takes his advice and draws a small portion of the amber liquid into his mouth, head tilting as he ponders the new taste. Neither Sam nor Dean drink their own beer. Instead, they stare at Castiel in anticipation of his reaction. A moment passes, then Castiel swallows and nods.

"It's very interesting," he says.

Dean rolls his eyes. "For this, I waited two years," he complains and takes a swig of his beer. Beside him, Sam snorts and even though it's not really a laugh, Dean smiles anyway. He relaxes into his chair and stretches out his feet under the table, kicking at Sam's legs and bumping shoulders with Castiel. He can't remember the last time he felt this at ease.

It lasts until Castiel decides to get the second round himself. He makes Dean repeat the names of his whiskey and their beer three times until he has them memorized and strides purposefully towards the bar. Dean watches with fondness, like a parent watching their kid take his first solo bike ride. The bartender who greets Castiel is hot, a curvy brunette that fills out her tight t-shirt very nicely. Though Dean can't hear Castiel from the table, he can tell Cas is speaking very slowly and succinctly because the bartender nods her head just as slowly and smiles at Castiel like he's a lost puppy. When she turns away to fill his order, Dean thinks to himself that if it were him, he'd have taken the opportunity to check out her ass. Castiel, on the other hand, sits on a barstool and peers at the bottles lining the shelves behind her.

Dean's sort of glad that Castiel didn't try to flirt with the bartender. After all, Dean hadn't had the time to teach Castiel the finer points of charming the opposite sex. Trying it now would be awkward and embarrassing.

Or something.

At any rate, Dean's feeling of relief evaporates as he watches a man approach Castiel's side. He is young, perhaps younger than Dean and has bright red hair and 'boy next door' looks. Dean doesn't have to hear the man to understand what it is happening because if Dean knows anything, it's how to read the body language of someone interested in having sex. The man leans towards Castiel, grins, and touches his shoulder, inviting himself to sit beside Castiel.

And because Castiel has no idea what's going on, of course, he lets the man sit next to him and listens avidly as the man talks, tolerating that pale hand on his arm.

Dean's fingers curl around his beer bottle, tightening until it hurts and his stomach dives into his knees.

"Dude, what is the matter with you?"

Sam's voice snaps Dean's attention away from Castiel, but only long enough to glare at him before he points his beer bottle at the horrifying scene still unfolding at the bar. "Some guy's coming up on Castiel's junk," Dean complains.

There is silence from Sam long enough to draw Dean's eyes. Both Sam's eyebrows were trying to escape his forehead. "What?" Dean asks, defensively. It's perfectly normal that he's worried about Castiel. If they don't do something about this, Cas is liable to end up tied to this guy's bed.

"Cas can take care of himself, Dean," Sam reminds him. "He's still a pretty strong guy."

Dean knows there is something wrong with Sam's logic. He rolls it around in his brain for a minute before coming up with a rebuttal. "Sure, he can fight someone off, but not if he doesn't realize their intentions until it's too late and he's been drugged or worse."

At the bar, the man begins to sit back a little, which helps relieve Dean's anxiety, but only to a certain extent. Castiel is talking now, waving his hands wildly to emphasize his point. The bartender drops off their drinks, but Castiel makes no move to come back to their table. Irritation prickles along Dean's skin.

"You want to go ask the guy his intentions?" Sam asks in apparent disbelief. "You're not Castiel's dad, you know. Far from it," he adds with a smirk.

"Ha ha," Dean deadpans, but he isn't really paying attention anymore because the guy at the bar is acting kind of weird now. His smile turns decidedly forced and he starts fidgeting a little. Dean begins to wonder if Castiel has started trying to convert the man and secretly hopes it's true because if he's bored, he'll go away.

That's when Castiel nods towards their table, his smile growing wider as he continues talking.

It launches Dean out of his seat. He has to know what they are talking about now and if Castiel is telling the guy who he came in with, maybe it's because they are making plans to meet up later once Dean and Sam are gone. That won't do at all.

The man looks unsurprised and maybe the slightest bit relieved when he sees Dean approach, although Dean reckons the livid expression on his face should be enough to put the fear of God into any man. The guy just nods at him and stands.

"You must be Dean," he says, throwing Dean off his game and making him forget all the subtle warnings he was planning on throwing at him.

"What?"

"This is Andrew," Castiel informs him with a pleasant smile. "He asked me if I was with anyone. I told him I was always with you. And with Sam to a lesser degree."

"Oh," Dean said, deflated. Looks like Castiel was fully capable of ruining strangers' romantic interest in him all by himself.

"Yeah, well, far be it from me to get into the middle of anything," Andrew says, taking his drink and gesturing at the chair. "Please. Clearly this seat was already taken. Castiel," he says, nodding at Cas, then he wanders away. Castiel watches him go, his head cocked at that familiar inquisitive angle.

"I don't understand," he says as Dean takes Andrew's vacated seat. "He was a nice man. I thought we were having a nice conversation."

Nice man, my ass, Dean thinks. "He was trying to get into your pants, Cas," Dean says. He picks up the beer and takes a long celebratory swig. That was easier than he thought it would be.

"Oh," Castiel says, genuinely surprised. "He should have said so, then I could have told him immediately that my pants are not available."

Dean's heart warms just a little. "Humans try not to be that blunt."

"But their lives would be so much simpler if they were," Castiel insists.

"Yeah, maybe, but I mean-" Dean turns on his stool, facing Castiel full on, beer in hand. "You can't just go up to someone and say, 'let's have sex' if you don't know them. They'd probably slap you."

"What if you know them very well?" Castiel asks intently.

Dean shrugs. "It depends on the person, I guess. People are afraid of rejection, so they flirt to ask instead. That way if someone doesn't flirt back, they can just go away without hearing an actual 'no'." It makes his head hurt to analyze humans this closely, but he's willing to make the sacrifice for Castiel.

"I am not afraid of 'no'," Castiel says and Dean reckons that's probably true. Castiel's heard and seen a lot worse things in just the time Dean's known him. He can't imagine the horrors Castiel's witnessed in all his thousands of years. "I would rather just ask someone to have sex with me."

Dean squirms in his seat. "Well, the next time you feel that way, let me know and I'll find a way for you to ask that won't get you knocked on your ass."

"You wouldn't hit me, would you?" He sounds very anxious. Dean rolls his eyes, answer ready on his tongue, then he really hears what Castiel's said and his eyes widen.

"Are you asking me for sex?"

"My pants have always been yours," Castiel says with all seriousness.

Dean's not even sure he knows what that means, but he likes the sound of it. He wonders if this is the reason that Castiel’s been calm about becoming human. It’s a little too big for Dean to comprehend, so he just concentrates on the pleasant warmth filling him and grins at Castiel.

After all, this solves the problem of keeping Castiel away from all other humans on Earth very nicely.

"Ok, sounds good to me," Dean answers.

Maybe the blunt thing works pretty well after all.