![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Just a quick Castiel and the boys fic, getting drunk of course.
Title: Heart Of A Lion, Head Of A Pin
Category: Gen
Rating: PG (Language)
Fandom: SPN
By:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kellifer_fic
Spoilers: S4
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
"I am a...a..."
"Donut?"
"No, shutup, I'm trying to make a point here," Castiel slurrily complains, staring blearily at Dean who is sprawled on the other side of the room. "I am a... what am I again?"
"A donut," Dean repeats cheerfully.
"Right, a-no! I am an... angel of the Lord, that's it!" Castiel tries to click his fingers but misses which is a... feat in and of itself. "And as such I shouldn't be-"
"Drunk off your tits?"
"I don't have tits, do I?" Castiel asks, patting his chest and looking faintly disturbed that he could have missed this very important development.
"You said tits," Sam pipes up. He's rocking dangerously far backwards on the one motel chair with the back legs shorter than the front ones. "Hey Dean, you got an angel to say tits."
"I rock," Dean declares, raising his hand and curling down the middle fingers.
"What is this devil's brew?" Castiel asks, looking at the bottle in his hand.
"It's beer," Dean answers, managing to upturn most of his all over his chest. He grunts and says, "Who spilled beer all over me?"
"Whatever it is, it's evil," Castiel says gravely, but the seriousness of his statement is lost when he lets out a giant belch. "Human bodies are messy and complicated."
"You don't know the half of it," Dean says.
Title: Heart Of A Lion, Head Of A Pin
Category: Gen
Rating: PG (Language)
Fandom: SPN
By:
kellifer_ficSpoilers: S4
Disclaimer: Written for entertainment purposes only. No money, no sue.
"I am a...a..."
"Donut?"
"No, shutup, I'm trying to make a point here," Castiel slurrily complains, staring blearily at Dean who is sprawled on the other side of the room. "I am a... what am I again?"
"A donut," Dean repeats cheerfully.
"Right, a-no! I am an... angel of the Lord, that's it!" Castiel tries to click his fingers but misses which is a... feat in and of itself. "And as such I shouldn't be-"
"Drunk off your tits?"
"I don't have tits, do I?" Castiel asks, patting his chest and looking faintly disturbed that he could have missed this very important development.
"You said tits," Sam pipes up. He's rocking dangerously far backwards on the one motel chair with the back legs shorter than the front ones. "Hey Dean, you got an angel to say tits."
"I rock," Dean declares, raising his hand and curling down the middle fingers.
"What is this devil's brew?" Castiel asks, looking at the bottle in his hand.
"It's beer," Dean answers, managing to upturn most of his all over his chest. He grunts and says, "Who spilled beer all over me?"
"Whatever it is, it's evil," Castiel says gravely, but the seriousness of his statement is lost when he lets out a giant belch. "Human bodies are messy and complicated."
"You don't know the half of it," Dean says.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
From:
no subject
Yes, Dean, you totally rock.
From:
no subject