Blue Eyes

It had started out as a way to make easy money. Work at his aunt's bar part time so cash was easier to come by.
That was high school. That was ten years ago.

 Dean Winchester co-owned the place now. It was split into three; Dean's share, his aunt's, and his cousin Jo's.
Dean liked tending the bar. So he did, often. He had his regulars, the newbies loved him. He loved hearing their stories and making them laugh. He loved the flirting. All of it. But every now and then there were the ones who preferred Jo, and made a point of it.
Tonight, he and Jo were tending side by side. Together, they were unstoppable. A few simple bar tricks got cheers and clapping. The more the night went on, the bigger Dean's smile got.

 And no, none of that could have possibly been from the one or two shots he'd split with costumers. Nor Jo's. Obviously.

 Jo nudged his arm during a slower hour. He glanced at her, still pouring a customers drink.

"When'd he come in?" Jo asked, voice hushed. She gestured to a man sitting quietly on his stool, a finger making circles around the rim of his empty glass.

Dean shrugged, handing the drink to the other customer with a smile and a wink. "A while ago? He didn't say much."Jo gave him a look. "What?"

"Go work your charm. Maybe he's your type." She teased.

"Maybe." Dean glanced over at him again. His hair was a mess, in fact his clothes were too. He had on a large, tan overcoat that was slightly off one shoulder. It was lightly wrinkled. Beneath it seemed to be a full suit. He had a thin layer of dark stubble over his chin and his eyes were downcast.
Dean strolled over to him, and threw on his winning smile.
"Hey, buddy. Need a refill?" He offered, curious as to how the other man would react.

He looked up and offered a sliver of a smile. Damn,his eyes were blue. "I could, actually."

What a voice. It caught Dean off-guard. The other man's kind, albeit seemingly very tired, features didn't seem to fit it. "What were you drinking?"

The man hesitated. Almost as if he'd forgotten. "Four Roses."

Dean raised an eyebrow. The man wasn't talking like someone who'd been drinking that stuff. A cheap bourbon that burned the whole way down yet maintained a simple smoothness. Good taste,though. Maybe that's what had made the other man's voice so rough. "Coming right up. I'm Dean."

The other man watched him calmly. "Cas."

"Cas?" Dean asked, he hadn't heard that name much. "How do you want it? Rocks?"

The man, Cas, shrugged. "Either or, and it's a nickname."

"Well, Cas. Nice to make the acquaintance." Dean smiled and placed the glass back in front of the stranger. He sat up straighter.

"Same to you."

Jo was right, not very talkative. Dean decided to jump start the conversation. "So. You've gotta do something with your hands, look at 'em."

Cas looked down at them with an eyebrow raised. "Anything specific to draw that conclusion?"

Dean smiled at his confusion. "You tell me."

"Does typing and using a pencil at times count as 'working with my hands'?" Cas asked, looking back up at the bartender.

Now he knew what Cas did, and he could carry on the conversation. Distract him, do his job. All that good stuff. "You write?"

Cas sighed and rolled his eyes. "Do you like your job, Dean?"

Dean grinned. "Love it."

Cas poked out a finger at him while still holding the glass."Count that as a blessing."

It was hard for Dean to keep from smiling. Cas sounded partially sarcastic, and partially deadly serious. It was an interesting combination.

"I'll keep that in mind.Give me a second?" Dean wasn't really asking, another customer came in and Jo was busy. Cas gave him an understanding nod. "Be right back."

   Dean wasn't right back. Not fully. He'd come and go as the night went on, carry on conversation in bits with both Cas and the others.
Cas never seemed anything other than lucid, which impressed Dean. He'd even commented on it once or twice. Cas just seemed more open. He had a dry sense of humor and great timing. It was nice.
Jo definitely noticed. She didn't say anything,though. Not yet.

Then, there were 20 minutes to last call. And Cas was still sitting there,though he'd switched to beer.

"20 minutes,buddy." Dean announced. He started wiping down the counter near where Cas was seated.

"Until you get off the clock?" Cas asked, sounding only vaguely suggestive.

Dean's reaction couldn't have been classified as a snort- there was no sound. A breath of air through his nose that seemed more like a wanna-be laugh. "That,yeah. And last call."Cas seemed surprised,so Dean continued, "Yes,already."

"In that case," Cas began, his slight smile much more resembling a smirk, "I offer a proposition."

"Shoot." Dean answered, cleaning a glass left behind by a patron.

"You've twenty minutes left, probably closer to 15. As do I. Have a drink with me first."

Dean made that same wanna-be laugh a second time. "I'm still on the clock."

"And that would be deleterious?"

Dean blinked, he'd never heard someone who'd been there as long as Cas had use a word like that with no difficulty. "Not that bad, no."

Cas seemed satisfied. "So?"

"One." Dean agreed. "But I'm picking the brand."

Cas put his hands up like it was he who was giving in. "Fair is fair."

 Dean smiled from one side of his mouth. He poured a vaguely honey colored liquid that Cas couldn't identify into two shot glasses.
He slid one to Cas who stopped it and raised it to Dean's. "Any toast?" He asked.

"Not particularly." Dean was smiling fully now.

"Good enough." Cas decided, but clinked the glasses anyway.

    They two tilted their heads back and drank quickly, their glasses clinking on the counter almost simultaneously.
One turned into two, turned into four, turned into Dean pouring a fifth.

"Slow down there, cowboy. You may be able to knock these back easy, but I've been here since about nine." Cas joked, accepting the drink anyway.

"And seem barely affected." Dean pointed out.

"I also haven't stood up yet."

Dean nodded vaguely. "Also true."

Cas watched Dean's hands as he spoke. "You commented on my hands earlier."

"I did. And you mentioned writing."

Cas shook his head. "You mentioned writing, you inferred from what I said. It was an ephemeral thought, I'd assumed.But that's not why I bring it up."

"Then why do you?" Dean asked, now intrigued.

"Your hands." It was a simplistic response, as if it left nothing unspoken.

"My hands." Dean repeated.

"Are incredible, beautiful. They look calloused. Why're they calloused?"

Dean hummed a moment before responding. "I dunno. I work with 'em."

Cas laughed. "I knew that much."

"Hm." An incredibly detailed response on Dean's end. "Cas."

"Yes?"

"What's that stand for? You said it was a nickname."

"Castiel." He went to take a sip from his glass,but found it empty. Dean raised his eyebrows.
"From the angel, Cassiel. Parents seemed to want to put a spin on it, I guess." Cas let his head loll to the side.

"Oh,of course." Dean went to respond further, but he was interrupted by a tap on his shoulder.

"Last call was five minutes ago." It was Jo. She didn't sound unkind, but she did sound firm.

Cas made a move to stand, but Dean made a gesture meaning for him to stay. "I was,uh, just gonna give the guy a ride home. He can't drive." Cas looked confused, but nodded in agreement.

Jo simply rolled her eyes. "And leaving me to lock up?"

"Yes?" Dean made a slightly pleading facial expression. Jo patted his shoulder.

"I was right," She said, "and you owe me one."

"For helping a guy out?" Dean feigned offence.

"Absolutely." And that was her exit.

"Taking me home, are you?" Cas's slight smirk had returned.

"I didn't hear you come up with a better excuse."

"Appreciated." Cas said. "If you were being serious, that is."

"Depends, did you drive here?"

"I did not."

"Then, I was serious."

Cas thought about this a second before continuing. "I have a feeling you would've yes anyway."

"Do you?" Dean stood and made his way around to Cas's side of the bar.

"Call it, writer's intuition." Castiel said, using the edge of the bar's counter to steady himself.

Dean smiled at the not-so-stranger. "Now why would I do that?"

"Why not?"

    Dean took another look at Cas, now that they were both closer and upright. His tie was barely loosened, but his coat was still disheveled. He had grey hairs, few and far in between but still present. As the cool night air hit him the reality of that observation did too. An oddly specific one. Dean was decidedly less sober than originally intended, but definitely not drunk.

"Dean?" Cas asked, low voice broke through his thoughts.

"Yeap?"

"Which car's yours?"

Dean made a gesture to a black car, one Cas could barely see in the night.

"It shines." Was Castiel's only verbalization.

Dean nodded proudly. "Fixed her up myself."

Cas nodded in realization. "That's what you do with your hands."

"Not all I do, but yeah." For once, Dean's comment wasn't intended to be as sexual as it sounded.

Castiel was unaware of that,though, and he let out a slightly smug huff and got into the car. "An older model." He commented.

"Mhm. '67 Chevy. My baby. Wait til you hear her start up."

Castiel was more interested in watching Dean's face, he was excited and it was a beautiful sight to see. Even in such poor lighting. The car started up and purred and Dean grinned.

"Smooth." It was all Cas could think to comment. He was referring to the sound, but wasn't sure how it came across.

"Ain't she? So. Where we headed?"

Cas gave his address, and kept his eyes locked on Dean's features, soaking them in.

"What're you looking at?" Dean finally asked.

"You."

Dean chuckled. "Clearly. A little distracting though,man."

Castiel hummed in response. Dean's focus wasn't as impaired as Cas's was. He knew he'd been drinking and was determined to drive as safely as he could nonetheless. There was a passenger.

   Once at Castiel's house, the two were quiet for the first time since the ride began.

"Here we are." Cas announced, as if Dean was unaware.

"Here we are." Dean repeated. They both stepped out of the car.

Cas paused again. "It's hard to read the situation right now."

"How so?"

"Because I really want to kiss you, and I'm not positive it's reciprocated."

Dean was slightly taken aback. But, he didn't to protest. Despite himself, he spoke. "It is."

Cas once again seemed satisfied. He close the distance as best and cupped Dean's face gently before kissing him.
Dean kissed him back. Dean decided Cas's lips were not as chapped as they looked. They were soft, Dean liked them. Cas tasted like stale beer and multiple kinds of alcohol but he didn't mind because it was familiar. He leaned further into the kiss,putting a hand on Castiel's side.The outside of cars were decidedly not the best place to kiss.
The kiss quietly grew heated, both men slowly getting more desperate. Dean could make a fair guesstimate of where this all was headed, until light rain began to fall. He felt Cas smile against him, and pull away just enough to rest their foreheads together. Dean noticed the other man's hand had moved from his face to his neck where there it stayed. Dean was about to question why they'd stopped when he felt it. The droplets were growing steadily in size, coming down harder by the minute.

"Of course." Cas said with a slight laugh, a slight growl of want still in his voice. Dean was still registering what had just happened. "Do you want to come in?" Cas's words weren't slurred, per say. Just hastily rushed together.

"I probably shouldn't." Dean said, knowing his brother may very well be worried that he wasn't home.

"Not to fuck if that's the issue." Castiel offered. It sounded weird when Cas swore, like the words didn't belong. "It's late and raining and you're drunk."

Dean weighed his options. He'd admit, he was lucky to get there in one piece. He shuddered at the thought. "You don't have to do that."

Cas rolled his eyes and nudged him lightly. "I got a ride home and a fantastic kiss. A safe place to sleep's a fair trade."

Dean grinned,he was able to make the majority of that out. "I'll have to uh, call my brother." Cas just shrugged.

"I'm gonna go inside where the dry is."

Dean nodded and locked his car before following Cas's lead to the front door.

Dean started typing out a text, he wasn't in the mood for a call, while Castiel fished for his keys.

Trying to get the key in the lock was another story all together. "Shhhhhhhoot." He said, seeming to decide not to cuss for whatever reason.
The lock clicked right after Dean sent his text.

Dean looked up from his phone, Cas was holding the door open for him. He had a decent sized house, by the looks of the living room. There were books scattered, but other than that everything seemed to have a place.
Cas tossed his keys into a bowl and let out a little breath. "Couch or bed?"

It sounded like one word to Dean, and it took a minute to decipher it. "I'm good on the couch."

"I'll trade you if you kiss me again."

Dean chuckled. "Why offer if you wanted me to take the bed?" His phone buzzed,but he didn't check it.

"I,frankly, don't care which you take."

Dean took the hint. He pressed his lips to Castiel's lightly, not nearly as deeply as before. The feeling of Cas's lips on his, so full of want, was nearly enough to elicit a sound from Dean.

It was like Cas could sense it. He pulled away slowly. "Not a good idea." He said, sounding defeated.

Dean was just confused. "Why?"

"I'm gonna end up wanting more than a kiss."

Dean raised an eyebrow. "And?"

Cas looked at Dean like he had six heads. Maybe seven. "Can't cross that line like this."

It finally registered. Cas stopped because they were drunk, Cas likely plenty more than himself. He stopped because he felt he couldn't be sure Dean wanted it. Dean smiled. "You're not half bad, Cas."

Cas shrugged, "Bedroom's the second room down the hall."

Dean nodded a bit. "You can come in you know, it is your house."

"I know." He kicked off his shoes and started tugging lightly at the tie he wore. "Want anything? Before you crash."

Dean was trying to avoid looking at the guy's mouth. It was hard to do. "I'm good." Cas nodded in his general direction, and started struggling with his coat. "Gotta ask something though?"

"Shoot."

"How the hell are you not shitfaced at this point?"

Cas laughed. "Pacing myself?"

Dean shook his head. "Yeah, that only gets you so far. You were there for hours."

"I'm not sober you know."

"I got that, but seriously." Dean grinned. "Kind of impressing."

"Thanks." Cas actually went and hung the jacket up. Dean would've definitely just tossed it to the side. "I do have to really try to get,shitfaced though."

"And you weren't tonight?"

"I was on my way, but a cute bartender decided to strike up conversation with me."

"Ah, understood." Dean rubbed the back of his neck with a little smile. The tiredness that followed drinking seemed to hit him all at once. "You sure you're not coming in?"

Cas waved a dismissive hand. "Too far away." He headed towards the couch.

"Not half bad." Dean mumbled to himself as he watched him. "You sure know how to leave people with questions."

Cas's turn to have that same wanna-be laugh as he attempted to get situated on the couch, his arms crossed over his chest. "Writer." He reminded Dean. "Cliffhangers add to the plot."

"Of course."