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They are playing supernatural variant of never have I ever and Dean is losing, badly. And it’s damned unfair. Of course Castile is pretty bad too, but he doesn’t count because he is an angel and not even tipsy after what must be now a full bottle of ragtag scotch they bought in the nearest 24/7. And Sam keeps winning and in last hour he discovered more about his brother then in last year.
Dean straitens out. That one is a sure bet.
“Slept with an angel.”
Castiel blushes just a bit and predictably downs another glass. They switched from shots to glasses for him to even the odds.
Sam blinks, signs and shifts goddamn glass away from himself. Again.
No way!
“Dude, when? Who?”
“The first or the second time?”
“It happened twice?!”
And now Dean knows Sam is lying thought his teeth, because seriously when would the kid have a chance to boink one bird from heavenly squad, much less two. Because seriously, who?
“Yeeeah. It was an accident.”
“How can you accidently have sex with a freaking angel of the lord? Twice?”
“How about one and a half?”
“Lucifer,” says Castile in that creepy voice of doom he uses to do small talks and recite Bible. “You are talking about Lucifer.”
Dean’s mind jumps to conclusion and one way or another he really doesn’t like it, because - Lucifer and now he either needs to kill his brother or the devil.
“Sam, what the Hell?”
“He was dream walking? I thought he was Jessica?”
Dean blinks and for a couple of seconds can’t decide what to do with that piece of information, then he valiantly makes another tick in a mental column ‘reason to kill the devil’ and moves on:
“Awesome. And the second time?”
“It was the second time, Dean. First was with Gabriel.”
“And who did you think he was, Jessica Rabbit?
“Sexy janitor who could take my mind of my jerk of a brother, actually.”
Dean despite that it’s not his turn takes a hefty gulp strait from the bottle and says slowly:
“Don’t get me wrong, Sammy, but I think we would have a lot less problem if you managed to keep it in the pants once in a while.”
Castiel sagely nods and then he says:
“Unicorn.”
“What?”
“My turn. Unicorn. France, 1659.”
Dean reaches for the bottle, but Sam snatches it first.