Angreh Fayce
Title: Angreh Fayce
Author: earth_heart
Rating: PG
Characters: Dean, Castiel
Warnings: Human, drunk!Castiel; pure crack; AU
Spoilers: None
Disclaimer: Supernatural doesn't belong to me. It belongs to Kripke and the CW/WB
Summary: Dean gets his roommate drunk. Hilarity insues.
AN: I wrote this right on livejournal. I couldn't be bothered to wait for Word to load.
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Dean had expected many kinds of things, when he went ahead with this plan. Castiel was solemn, and intense, and so Dean had thought that he would be a quiet drunk. Maybe a few statements he could laugh over later on, when the man was passed out on his bed minus a shirt and pants (due to a game of strip poker that Dean had planned for the evening).
Well, strip poker never got played. Castiel wasn't a quiet drunk, or even a violent drunk.
No, Castiel was a funny drunk. Dean was laughing too hard to even work a camera for some blackmail shots. It just wasn't possible.
"Whu aroo laughin' at?" Castiel glared at him, or at least he tried to. It had taken a bottle of Jack, a six-pack of beer, half a bottle of vodka, and two-fifths a bottle of Johnny Walker, but Dean had gotten him good and drunk. Not just 'Oh, I'm beginning to feel something' drunk. No, this was downright, smashed, 'Can't see properly and I'm going to forget every second of this come morning; by the way, hello, hangover' drunk.
It was hilarious.
"Nothing, buddy." Dean wheezed. "Absolutely nothing. At least, nothing you'll remember in the morning."
There was silence at that, so Dean managed to gather himself enough to stop the ever-present flow of tears from his eyes. As soon as his vision was clear and his cheeks dry, he looked up to see what Cas was doing now.
His roommate was staring at him with the fucking weirdest look on his face. One eye was narrowed and the other was wide; his eyebrows were scrunched down. His nose was wrinkled and his lips twisted in some sort of pout that started at the ends and drew into a line directly in the center of his mouth. It was fucking weird, and Dean was about to piss his pants, because it was fucking funny.
"What the fuck is that?!" Dean howled, and oh god, his sides hurt.
"Th's is mah angreh fayce." Castiel grunted. He said it exactly like that, too. Oh, God, help Dean; it was too much.
Was it possible to pass out from lack of oxygen due to laughing? Dean's pretty sure that was what happened. Either that, or he hit his head when his knees gave out on him, because for fuck's sake, you keep a straight face for that.
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Morning found Dean still on the floor, nursing a slight hangover and a bigger bump on the head courtesty of one coffee table.
He would have gotten up if not for the foot planted on his chest. Attached to that foot was a leg; attached to that bare leg was a naked Castiel, and he looked decidedly unimpressed with the world at large. He also looked like his head hurt like a bitch.
"Vengeance for this, Winchester, will not be swift and painless." his roommate promised.
Dean grinned. "Do I get to see your angreh fayce?" he asked hopefully.
"There is a very good chance." Obviously Castiel didn't remember that little thing.
"Well, then, bring it on."