You would think liking your best friend that way would be difficult. I mean sometimes it is, like when he looks at you with such happiness and you secretly wish it was because of you. It might be difficult when you spend the night at his house and fall asleep next to each other and pray to every god and goddess that you will not subconsciously pull him close.

"Cas, dude,"

I pull my gaze from the area of floor, to meet his eyes. "Hey,"

Dean chuckles and pushes me lightly. "Are you okay, buddy? You zoned out on me there."

I smile at him and nod. "I'm okay."

"Good," Dean stands up from the couch. He starts walking towards the kitchen. "Are you coming with me tonight?"

I look to the TV, trying to focus on the show. "What are you talking about?"

Dean comes back and hands me a can of Dr. Pepper.

"The party tonight!" He exclaims. "I told you Tuesday. Carly Dubbs invited me."

"Just because she invited you doesn't mean she wants me to come."

"But I want you to come." He says.

My stomach feels tight and I think I might begin to blush. "No,"

Dean puts his head on my shoulder.

Do friends do this? Because this happens a lot. Dean will move close, put his arm around me or rest his head on my shoulder. Do friends do this? Of course, they do. That's the only logical reason why he'd do this. It's not like he would like me and do this. Right? Tell me. Am I right? Someone please answer.

"Come on, please." He says. "I don't want to be alone."

"You'll have all your other friends there."

"But my best friend will not be there."

Best friend. Best friend. Best friend.

Dean raises his head up and looks at me. He pushes his bottom lip out and makes puppy eyes. I stare at him for a couple second, almost letting my eyes drop to his lips.

"Ugh," I throw my head back and look at the ceiling. "Fine. But I won't have fun."

"I bet one thousand dollars you will."

^^

If that was an actual bet, I'd be one thousand dollars richer.

I try and push my way through the crazy crowd in the living room. It's only 9:30 and most everyone is out of their minds. Eventually I make it to the kitchen, but not without someone twerking on me and/or drunkenly fall on me either.

As soon as I entered the kitchen, I could tell the atmosphere was different. The room was blanketed with a light smoke, everything was in a daze, and the people were much calmer. Then I notice. Everyone in this room was either eating pot brownies or just smoking a joint.

I walk to the counter island and grab the bottle of vodka. I pour the liquid into my red cup, then pour a little of coke in there for more taste. As I walk out the door, to the backyard, a guy tries to offer me a joint. I decline by pushing his hand away.

^^

I have realized something.

Whenever a person has unlimited vodka, they drink. When they drink, they get drunk. When they are drunk, they think things. When they think things, silly thoughts come to mind.

After my first cup of my vodka/coke mixture, I got more. I got five more cups. After the third, I forgot the coke.

So I sit next to the pool in the lawn chair, staring up at the sky. Sometimes I'll look down at the people in the pool. All of them are fully clothed.

"I want to get in the pool." I say aloud. I go to unzip my jacket.

"Cas!"

I look up and see Dean lingering over me.

"...Hey," I am delayed.

Dean sits next to me. He looks at me with a curious facial expression.

"Deeeaaan," I groan out, falling back onto the chair.

He smiles. "What?"

I roll over on to my side to look at him more clearly. "I...suddenly feel weird."

Dean turns in his lawn chair to look at me. "What kind of weird?"

"It's not the bad weird, but like the good weird. You know? Like I'm good for days – good."

"Well that's...good." Dean laughs a small laugh.

"Dean," I reach for him. "Hold my hand."

He grabs my hand. The sudden contact pushes a chill through me and I giggle.

While lying there I begin to think. Maybe I should just tell Dean, you know? Tell him that I think he is pretty and we should make-out. He'd totally say yes too, because...yeah.

I try to push myself up with one hand. But end up back on the lawn chair.

"Here, let me help you." Dean pulls me up and holds me up until I sit there for myself.

"Hey," I say to him.

"Hey," He says smiles.

"How come it always sounds like you have a smile on your face?"

He smiles wider. "I don't know. I guess I'm always happy with you."

I smile too, giggling, leaning forward, and resting my arms on my legs. "You're happy with me." I almost whisper it.

"Yeah," He says.

I look up from the pool to him. "Hey there, sexy."

Dean's cheeks look a different shade. "Buddy, are you okay?" He tilts his head to try and to keep eye contact with me.

"I'm fine!" I kind of scream.

In a quick motion I put my hands on his shoulders. "Deeaan,"

"Castiel," He says. His breath is hot on my face and I smell no liquor from him.

"I think you're pretty and," I burp a bit. "And we should kiss."

Dean's cheeks turn red-red and laughs. "Cas, it's time to go home."

"Nooo," I say. "It's not fair. I want to kiss you." I close my eyes and pucker my lips. "See, I'm ready."

Dean sighs. Why does he sound sad?

He grabs my hands from his shoulders. "Castiel, please, don't do this."

I open my eyes. "What? It'll make it better." I try to look him in the eyes but everything is fuzzy and all I see is sadness and greenness.

"You don't know what you're talking about. You're drunk. You don't mean anything you say." Dean says. He stands up and pulls me up with him. "It's time to get home."

He pulls me by the waist.

"But Dean, I w-want to." I feel like crying.

Does he really not like me? Am I gross? Will he be my friend after this?

^^

We are in his bedroom and we are not speaking.

I look towards the floor of the room. The color of black and tiny bit of red I see from my backpack blend together. Then I remember.

I take my backpack and open it, pulling out the vodka bottle. I let my backpack fall back into the floor.

I open the lid and pour it into my mouth. I do not taste anything.

"You stole an entire bottle of vodka." Dean says. It's the first thing he says.

"No," I take another drink.

Dean chuckles a bit.

"Don't laugh at me."

"Why shouldn't I?" He asks.

I stand up and feel myself wanting to pace. "Because this is the only way, and you just won't."

"Cas, you are not making any sense."

"You-you know how I'm stiff like I can't speak right...stiff like..." I stick my finger up as still as I can.

"Sure," Dean says this and it sounds like a question.

Why would he be asking me a question?

I can feel him watch me as I begin to pace. I glance at his face. He is smiling. My stomach feels up and butterflies seem to fly from my head to my toes.

I take another drink from the bottle.

"I have a reason why I am so stiff." I laugh a bit. "It's a really good reason, too."

"Why are you so stiff, Castiel?" His voice seems concerned.

What if I melted and stained his floor? Would I permanently be in the company of Dean Winchester?

"That! That!" I point at his words as they come out of his mouth. "That is why I am stiff."

Dean's face looks more confused than my sexuality.

"You with your words," I pace and run my right hand through my hair. "Your magic words that seem to fill me but never keep me full. The structures of your sentences are an artwork alone. The poetries, that fill the structures, should be put on pedestal and be studied by all. Gods, Goddesses, Homer, himself, should bow down to you. Their words could never match the amount of emotion yours give me."

I take another drink.

I look at Dean. He looks at me.

"I'm sorry." I say.

Dean stands up and walks to stand in front of me. "C-Cas, you're not just saying these things because you're drunk. Are you? Because if you are, I'm not going to be able-"

"I'm not, Dean. It's just easier to say it now because I have no filter."

"Oh," Dean chuckles a bit and looks at his floor. "I asked you to come with me to the party because I had a plan."

"What kind of plan?"

"The kind of plan to make you realize I like you, as in boyfriend-like."

"Oh," It takes a few seconds for the words to actually register in my brain. "Oh!"

"It didn't work out though." He shrugs. "You walked away from me when we got to the party and by the time I could find you, you were already drunk."

"Sorry, I guess." I laugh a little.

He laughs too.

I walk around him, to his bed, and sit down. "This is funny, you know."

He sits beside me, closer to the head board. "Yeah,"

"I mean we've been best friends for like...ever. Then we both like each other in the not best-friend-way."

Dean looks from the floor to me. I'm already staring at him and it doesn't seem to startle him, like when we first became friends.

"So," He says.

I don't know if it's because I'm drunk but his eyes seem to beam a brighter green.

"You wouldn't mind if I tried kissing you. Right?"

I shake my head and whisper. "No,"

I whisper because Dean is like a wide-eyed, timid dog and if I say anything too loud he'll run away. Also this is a relationship defining moment.

Dean nods.

He begins to lean closer and I'm not sure if I should close my eyes. I don't really want to, but would it be awkward to keep them open. My drunken mind should just shut up.

Dean stops leaning in when his lips feel like they are an inch away. His breath goes rigid.

"Cas, I don't know if-"

My drunken mind takes over and I grab his face.

Lips touch lips and we both freeze. My hands pull three inches from his face. It feels like we were in that state for years. But Dean makes the first move but tugging on my bottom lip and I react.

A hand runs through the back of his hair and holds it, the other keeps his face close to mine.

His hands touch my body, pull me closer, and grip my clothes.

Hands. Hands, everywhere and no where they need to be.

Dean begins to lean back and I go with him. While our lips are still connected, I hover over his body and begin slipping my right hand between his jacket and t-shirt. Dean does the same with his hand and pulls me down.

But something feels wrong, maybe because it suddenly got too hot in the room, maybe because my stomach did two front flips and five back flips and not in the good way.

I stop kissing Dean and pull away. I lean back on the back of my legs and, actually, on his legs.

Out of breath, Dean asks me. "W-what's wrong?" He props up on his elbows.

"I..."

I quickly get off of Dean and run out of his room. I run down the hallway, to the bathroom, and then I'm on my knees in front of the toilet.

Dean walks in and begins to pat my back. "I'm being hopeful and thinking that this is not because of my kissing."

I laugh a little bit before violently vomiting again.

After three more vomits and panting, I stand up and flush the toilet. Dean hands me a piece of paper towel, I wipe my face off. He takes my hand and walks us to his room.

Dean lays me on the bed. He exits the room. When he comes back his has a bucket and wash cloth. He sits the bucket beside the bed and then gets in with me.

He gently lays the, wet, wash cloth on my forehead and kisses my ear. His arm snakes around my waist and pulls me closer to him.

"I like-like you, Castiel." He says in my ear.

"I like-like you, too, Dean."

^^

Thank you for reading! It means a lot. 

Please tell me if it's okay or not. I'll continue this if it's okay.