Continued from
Castiel's bar date. [ Dean hadn't been counting on Cas to just leave a perfectly good pity fuck and tap him out of existence like that. He certainly didn't expect to be transported back to their hotel room while simultaneously being put to sleep. He must have pissed him off. He knew that
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You have the oddest dreams, Dean.
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[ Dean was quick to reply. His hands were tucked behind the crown of his head and his jean draped legs were hanging out of the already ajar door. He was irritated, yeah, that he was poofed into dream world but he also trusted Cas to take care of him and figured he'd gone too far with the dating advice. ] Sorry... uh, about the bimbos.
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[ He looks on at the field before back at Dean, tilting his head to the side as he looked over to him. He tried not to smile, pursing his lips together as he leaned against the Impala. ] They were expected.
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[ Dean shot back, returning that smile with a smile of his own. The hunter toed out of his boots and let his socked feet knead the cushion, a contented groan leaving his lips. But the ones you send me into usually are.
[ Dean wouldn't lie. He was still drunk. No chance of waking up through this one but all the same enjoying the sun wash over his face and beat down against his chest, having his friend close by. ]
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