Drunk On You || punk!cas jock!dean

Chapter Eight - The morning after

Dean (POV)

ERRRRRGGGGGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH! I totally agree Mr Brain. WHAT THE HELL HAVE YOU DONE TO ME! I have no idea. NO NO NO, DON’T OPEN YOU’RE EYES YOU FUCKER. Too late.

I open my eyes to see the sun shining into the tent, bright and painful. I groan as I sit up slightly and crack my neck, straightening my back as I do so. I let out a low groan and rub my eyes, trying to get rid of the huge fucking migraine that as attached itself to my brain, above my right eye. There is a low rumble in my stomach and I feel as if I’m going to be sick but suddenly something dicks my neck hard and I look down too see Castiel shuffling around in his sleep before groggily opening his hands and groaning loudly. He sits up himself and puts his head in his hands, wiping his face and dragging his skin down before wiping his own eyes.

 “Why?” Cas asks me and I shake my head.

“I don’t know but I’m never drinking that fúcking stuff again.” I grumble, coughing loudly and gipping when phlegm comes up into my mouth.

“Ergh. I feel so stícky.” He says, shivering slightly against the cold morning air.

“You must have spilt some drink down you last night.” I respond, yawning loudly and Castiel flinches at the sound and covers his ears.

“Can you not?” He glares at me and I let out a small smirk at him before the tent flap opens to reveal a couple of my friends.

“MORNING!!” They shout and Cas and I groan loudly before putting a cover over our heads and flipping our friends off before they run back out of the tent.

“Bástards.” Cas and I say at the same time before Cas stands up. My eyes widen at the sight of him stark naked but I don’t think he has even noticed yet.

“DUDE!” I shout, covering my eyes as he looks down at himself and yelps, jumping back down and under the covers. “Why the hell are you náked?” I asked him, finally peeping through the gaps in my fingers to check if he was covered up again.

“I don’t know!” He shouts with a horrified look on his face. “I don’t even remember getting back to the tent last night. The last thing I remember is being by the side of the woods with you and deciding to go back to the camp. Shít we were a drunken mess Dean.”

“Okay… but why are you náked?” I ask again and he grumbles something under his breath about me not listening to him.

“I told you, how the hell am I supposed to know.” He shuffles slightly and suddenly he stiffens and scrunches his face up as if in pain. “Oh shít, my áss is killing.”

“What?” I ask quickly, my face dropping into a frown.

“I said my áss is killing, god aren’t you listening? Jesus fúcking Christ.” He shuffles again but once again winces.

“Shít.” I say when realisation hits me. “Oh shít.”

“What?” I gulp before finally lifting my covers up and checking my own body for any sort of clothing material that may or may not be covering me. None was there; I was just as náked as Castiel. I put the covers down quickly and looked anywhere but at Castiel who was looking at me in confusion. “What is it you bástard?” He asks me again, grabbing my covers to see what I was looking at. I try and pull away from him but he was too quick and when he sees that I am not wearing a single garment of clothing under the covers, he pushes them back to me and backs away from me.

“You’re náked as well!” Cas cries and I roll my eyes and groan.

“No shit, Sherlock.”