Fic: Mazel Tov [Supernatural]
Oct. 30th, 2008 08:19 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
iliaTitle/Prompt: Mazel Tov
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Rating: PG-13 for Dean’s liberal use of the F-bomb.
Notes: For![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
sacred_20. Remember about an hour or so ago when I wrote: I swear only 100 or 200 word drabbles.? I blame Dean effin Winchester. *grumbles*
Summary: Dean gets drunk and cusses. A lot.
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“What are you doing?”
Dean snorted, then took another long pull from his bottle. “Wha’s it look like, Cas? No, seer, uh, seriously. I’m out here, alone, in the fuckin’ dark with a case of longnecks. I’m fuckin’ paintin’, Cas. Tha’s what I’m doin’.”
“You’re drunk,” a fascinated Castiel observed with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion.
“Damned straight!” Dean declared with a horrendous belch. “You know why I’m shitfaced, Cas?”
Castiel said nothing, though he emanated a discernable aura of disapproval, but this did not deter Dean in the slightest.
“We’re fucked! I’m fucked, you’re fucked, Sammy’s definitely fucked. Shit, the whole world’s gonna be ass-raped!” Dean chortled like it was the most hilarious thing ever.
“I fail to see any amusement in the situation,” Castiel’s voice held no inflection but was frozen and icy; forbidding.
Dean grinned goofily. “S’the end of the world! Motherfucking Armageddon! If you can’t get blitzed when it all goes to hell then wha’s there to live for, Cas? There‘s no beer in hell, gotta get it while I can.”
“I didn’t bring you back to die of alcohol poisoning.”
“Nah! You brought me back to witness fucking hell on Earth! ‘M like Chicken Little. Poor, little bitch. No one believed his punk ass. Fucking sky is falling, demons are rising, we’re all completely screwed,” Dean lamented with the unconcerned pragmatism of the truly drunk. “And, and you expect me to do something about it.” Dean snickered. “Yer fucked in the head, Cas. We’re all doomed. C’mon, get drunk wi’ me,” he wheedled.
“No,” Castiel refused.
Dean pouted for a moment then shrugged. “My beer’s too good for you anyways.” He chugged the rest of his bottle and flung it to the floor where it exploded into a mess of glass shards. “Mazel fucking tov, Cas!” Dean shouted with smug, satisfaction.
Fandom: Supernatural
Characters/Pairing: Dean Winchester/Castiel
Rating: PG-13 for Dean’s liberal use of the F-bomb.
Notes: For
sacred_20. Remember about an hour or so ago when I wrote: I swear only 100 or 200 word drabbles.? I blame Dean effin Winchester. *grumbles*Summary: Dean gets drunk and cusses. A lot.
--------
“What are you doing?”
Dean snorted, then took another long pull from his bottle. “Wha’s it look like, Cas? No, seer, uh, seriously. I’m out here, alone, in the fuckin’ dark with a case of longnecks. I’m fuckin’ paintin’, Cas. Tha’s what I’m doin’.”
“You’re drunk,” a fascinated Castiel observed with a mixture of curiosity and revulsion.
“Damned straight!” Dean declared with a horrendous belch. “You know why I’m shitfaced, Cas?”
Castiel said nothing, though he emanated a discernable aura of disapproval, but this did not deter Dean in the slightest.
“We’re fucked! I’m fucked, you’re fucked, Sammy’s definitely fucked. Shit, the whole world’s gonna be ass-raped!” Dean chortled like it was the most hilarious thing ever.
“I fail to see any amusement in the situation,” Castiel’s voice held no inflection but was frozen and icy; forbidding.
Dean grinned goofily. “S’the end of the world! Motherfucking Armageddon! If you can’t get blitzed when it all goes to hell then wha’s there to live for, Cas? There‘s no beer in hell, gotta get it while I can.”
“I didn’t bring you back to die of alcohol poisoning.”
“Nah! You brought me back to witness fucking hell on Earth! ‘M like Chicken Little. Poor, little bitch. No one believed his punk ass. Fucking sky is falling, demons are rising, we’re all completely screwed,” Dean lamented with the unconcerned pragmatism of the truly drunk. “And, and you expect me to do something about it.” Dean snickered. “Yer fucked in the head, Cas. We’re all doomed. C’mon, get drunk wi’ me,” he wheedled.
“No,” Castiel refused.
Dean pouted for a moment then shrugged. “My beer’s too good for you anyways.” He chugged the rest of his bottle and flung it to the floor where it exploded into a mess of glass shards. “Mazel fucking tov, Cas!” Dean shouted with smug, satisfaction.
