🎃Inktober : Day 31 - Slice🎃

Sam isn’t sure exactly when he lost them. One minute he could hear Dean complaining about how his scabbard keeps falling off and the next minute both he and Cas are gone. Typical, Sam thinks, swinging his plastic hammer over his shoulder and letting it hang by the leather strap, Of course Dean would bail on this. 

To be fair, Sam  kind of pushed Dean into going out. 

“The only good thing about Halloween is the candy, Sam,” Dean complained as Sam thrust a pile of crushed velvet into his arms. “I’m not about to ... cosplay with you just so you can meet up with some girl.” Sam's about to point out how many times he’s played wingman for Dean doing the exact same thing, but lets the comment slide.

“C’mon,” Sam says, angling his head toward Castiel. “Cas is dressing up.” Dean gives him a deadpan look and glances over to Cas. 

“He’s dressed exactly the same.”

“Actually, I’m dressed up as John Constantine.” Castiel holds up an unlit cigarette. “See?”

‘Who?” Dean asks with a grimace. 

“One of the characters in the DC canon. He is a-”   

“Explain on the way out,” Sam cuts him off.“ Now, just get dressed.”

“God, Sam, this is lame,” Dean paws through the pile of clothes, “and what am I supposed to be? a Stipper?”

“A pirate.”

Dean holds up the frilly sleeved blouse and jacket raising an eyebrow. “A pirate stripper? You could’ve at least gotten me something more Captain Jack, less... Gilbert and Sullivan.” Sam wants to make a smartass remark on how does Dean knows who Gilbert and Sullivan but not Constantine. Instead, he rolls his eyes and turns Dean around, pushing him toward his room and instructing him once again to get changed. 

Sam sighs to himself, stretching his considerable height onto tiptoes to get an even farther look over the mass of costumed people crowding the street around him. A gust of wind sweeps down the street and catches at his cape, sending it flying around him. He hears someone whistle from the street and another yell out “Avengers Assemble.” He flashes a brief smile and waves as he continues to search for Dean and Cas. 

He’d have expected this kind of disappearance from Dean, but Cas? Castiel hadn’t argued at all when Sam had just brought up the idea of going out on Halloween. Would he just disappear because Dean wanted to?

“Probably,” Sam mutters to himself in answer. He walks another block, scanning through the crush of people when he spots a a flash of khaki out of the corner of his eye; the unmistakable sign of Cas’ trench coat. It can’t be him though, Sam thinks, briefly glancing in the direction he saw it. Whoever is wearing the coat is pinned up against a brick wall, mouth crashed into another man’s and...

“Dean?” Sam squawks. He hurries across the street to meet them. Dean pulls back from Cas at the sound of his name, his eyes hooded and his lips plump from the pressure of Castiel’s mouth on his. 

“Hey, Sam!” The “S” comes out a little more slurred than usual. “What’s going on man? You disappeared on us.”

“You disappeared on me,” Sam argues. 

“Well, we managed to stick together,” Dean gives a lazy shrug and  wraps an arm across Cas’ shoulder.

“Having a good time?” he asks wryly. Dean’s grin broadens.

“Fantastic time,” he says. “We found a place where shots were free if they were body shots and Castiel here...” Dean gives an enthusiastic slap to Castiel’s backside, causing him to jump. Sam can’t stop a smile from quirking at his mouth.“Cas volunteered to help me out.” He punctuates the sentence  with a sloppy kiss to Cas’ cheek. 

“How many did you have?” Sam asks.

Dean shrugs again. “Lost count.”

“Twelve,” Castiel supplies at the same time. 

“I... think we ought to get back,” Sam says holding back a chuckle.

“Only if the hot exorcist comes with us,” Dean says, nuzzling against Castiel. Sam can’t ignore the way Castiel’s body curves right back up against Dean’s. 

“Sure,” Sam says. “Come on, you two.” He moves around them, pushing both men forward from behind.