Hey, at least one of those is for Sam, okay? Give Dean a little credit.
Castiel is right, though, Dean does need some space. All his life he's been all about the ladies (because there are some very nice ladies out there and he would like to appreciate them, thanks). But now he's just spent the--what time is it again?--the last hour spilling his guts to and making out with a dude. With Cas and he's pretty sure the only way that'd get any freakier is if it'd been with Sam.
Dean rubs his hands over his face, trying to figure out why this bothers him so much. Or, more importantly, why it isn't bothering so much. It is bothering him, just not as much as he'd think it would. He's bothered less than he should be and that bothers him. Or something.
Dammit. He needs a drink. He gets up and digs through his duffel until he finds the half-full bottle of Jack and cracks it open, sorely tempted to down the whole thing.
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Castiel is right, though, Dean does need some space. All his life he's been all about the ladies (because there are some very nice ladies out there and he would like to appreciate them, thanks). But now he's just spent the--what time is it again?--the last hour spilling his guts to and making out with a dude. With Cas and he's pretty sure the only way that'd get any freakier is if it'd been with Sam.
Dean rubs his hands over his face, trying to figure out why this bothers him so much. Or, more importantly, why it isn't bothering so much. It is bothering him, just not as much as he'd think it would. He's bothered less than he should be and that bothers him. Or something.
Dammit. He needs a drink. He gets up and digs through his duffel until he finds the half-full bottle of Jack and cracks it open, sorely tempted to down the whole thing.