~Eleven Hours Earlier~

"I don't understand why one would celebrate the first day of January." This was Castiel's response to Dean's suggestion of a New Year's Eve party. "Years come and go frequently, not to mention all the commotion dies down after the 'New Years'." He formed air quotes around New Years.

"C'mon, Cas," Dean grinned and patted his shoulder. "New Years is the time of... getting wasted. And... I think that's about it."

"Exactly. There's no point."

"C'mon. We'll go down to the bar, get absolutely hammered, and live like there's no damn tomorrow."

He sighed slightly, deciding to give in. "Fine. Let us... have hammers."

Dean chuckled. "Attaboy." He looked to his brother. "You're in, right, Sammy?"

"You bet. And it's your turn to pay for a taxi."

Dean's smile faded. "No, I paid last year."

Sam grinned, having a feeling he wouldn't remember. "No, you were supposed to pay last year, but you got over-the-top drunk, and ditched me for that blonde bartender."

Dean thought about this for a second, then smiled. "Oh yeah. Kandi. Now that girl was something else."

Cas frowned slightly at this. He didn't like the thought of Dean being with a woman. It made him wish he had a female vessel, so maybe his chances could've been better. But it was too late for that now.

"Since you're paying for the taxi, I'll pay for drinks." Sam stated.

"Sounds like a plan." Dean checked his pockets and came up empty handed. "I need my wallet. I'll be right back." He went to get his wallet, leaving Sam and Cas alone.

Cas looked to Sam. "Do you understand this New Years tradition?"

He shrugged his shoulders slightly. "Not really. But Dean seems to enjoy it, so I play along anyway."

Cas nodded along as an awkward silence fell. It was often like this when they were alone. Neither of them ever seemed to know what to say. Cas was about to try and say something when Dean returned.

"Alright, we're good to go."

"Good." Sam quickly replied. "Let's go then."

They drove to the bar and walked inside, finding that they weren't the only ones in search of a New Years bash. There were decorations all over the place saying "Happy New Years!" and the TV that usually played sports was playing some New Years countdown on ABC.

"I hope I get as drunk as humanly possible." Dean remarked.

"I thought you liked New Years?" Sam asked.

"Yeah, but there's no need to shove it down my friggin throat."

"I would like to purchase alcohol now." Cas stated monotonously.

"Amen to that." They went up to the bar, Cas thinking to himself, But I wasn't praying.

11:15, they ordered three beers. The bartender got their drinks with a smile on his face. "Happy New Year's Eve!"

Dean raised his glass. "To a new year. 2015. May there be much monster slayage, and... maybe none of us will die this time."

Sam grinned. "I'll drink to that." They clinked their glasses together and started drinking, this being only a small portion of alcohol on a very long list.

11:30, Sam and Dean were getting a bit buzzed by now, but Cas, being the lightweight that he is, was full blown wasted.

"You guys," Cas smiled like a dork. "This was the best idea by... several miles. I love 2016 so much."

"You mean 2015?" Dean corrected, grinning at Cas's drunken state.

"Of course. 2015 was great too."

He laughed. "No, Cas, this past year was 2014. And the new year is gonna be 2015."

"Oh!" He chuckled. "I knew that!"

"Cas, we've got to do something about your alcohol tolerance." Sam grinned.

"I'm... fine. I'm... awesome, y'know? We should have New Year's Eve every day!" He declared.

"I don't think people can handle a daily hangover," Dean countered. "I mean, most people."

"I'm sure I can! And... other people can... learn to."

"Cas, you're smashed already, and it's not even close to midnight."

Cas paused briefly. "So?"

"Just saying, once the clock strikes twelve, I doubt you'll even be conscious enough to experience that."

He simply scoffed. "I'll be fine, Dean! Whatever, man!"

11:45, Sam and Dean have gotten a bit more drunk at this point, Dean having gone to pick up some girl, while Cas was a giggling mess.

"I-" Cas could barely form a sentence past his laughter as his head rested on the bar counter. "I think I like... drunk!" He giggled some more, eating the peanuts from the bowl on the counter.

Sam chuckled. "Dude, how many beers have you had?"

"Dunno! Who cares? I'm drunk, and I like it that way, bitch!"

Dean returned, his face having been splashed with a martini. Sam grinned. "So, how'd it go?"

Dean laughed sarcastically, ordering a whiskey. "Bring me one, too!" Cas spoke a bit loudly, his mouth full of peanuts.

"We may need to cut you off." Dean commented.

"Cut... me off what?" He asked in a slur.

"From drinking."

"Pfft! Hell no! I am fine, Dean-o-rino. Just let me drink what I wanna drink!"

"Just... give it a rest, man. Take it easy until it's actually 2015."

Cas realized he was out of peanuts. "And bring me more nuts!"

11:58, Cas was passed out by now, his hand still in the peanut bowl, and Sam and Dean were in quite the drunken state as well.

"Dude, just a few more minutes till midnight!" Dean smiled.

Sam glanced over at Cas. "Too bad Cas isn't around to enjoy it."

Dean chuckled. "Yeah, the little lightweight."

"So, Dean, on a scale of one to ten, how gay for Cas would you describe yourself?"

Dean paled, not expecting to hear that. "Sam, you're drunk, you don't know what you're saying."

He grinned, knowing how in-denial Dean would be. "C'mon, seriously. I see you guys. The way you... see each other."

"As friends. I'm not gay, and you know it."

"Eric didn't know it."

He had a feeling this would come up, and he didn't like it. "You leave him out of this. We were kids, alright? You were like eight, how do you even remember that?"

"I wasn't eight, dude. I was in fifth grade, I remember plenty."

"You weren't there. Not really. You didn't know him like I did."

"I don't think anyone knew him like you did."

Dean scowled at him. "Shut up."

Sam grinned. "Hey, I'm just messing with you, man. Hey, thirty seconds till midnight." Sam pointed at the clock on the ABC countdown, where they were talking about New Years resolutions and stuff.

"Great. Now we can move on. Count down. Till 2015. Big moment here, little brother." He grinned slightly.

"Bet you wish you had a New Years kiss."

Dean shrugged. "Oh well. Kinda stupid anyway." He glanced over at Cas, who was still out like a light. Through the fog of denial, only this fallen angel could provide any light. He could spend his whole life saying he wasn't even a little gay, but he knew the truth. He would always know the truth.

There was a sudden chorus of people counting down. "Ten, nine, eight-"

"This is it!" Sam smiled. "Got any New Years resolutions?"

Dean thought for a moment. "Not dying. I think that covers it."

"Three, two, one, HAPPY NEW YEAR!" The sudden cheering caused Cas to awaken, sitting upright with peanut shells stuck to his left cheek.

"What- miss?" He slurred, looking all around.

Dean noticed the peanut shells and chuckled. "Uh, Cas, you've got a little something on your face."

Cas brushed his hand against his right cheek. "There?"

"Here, let me." He brushed the shells off Cas's face, finding that he had gotten lost in the angel's azure eyes. Such mesmerizing things, his eyes. It's easy to find yourself hypnotized.

He turned away and looked down at his hands, blushing furiously. He decided to do what he always did when faced with a gay moment; he ignored it. Because he wasn't ready to have feelings for Cas. It would turn out like Eric, and he knew it.

"So, still in 'Dean-ial'?" Sam asked, grin plastered on his face.

"Oh shut up." He retorted.

The bartender suddenly gave the three of them banana daiquiris. "Three banana daiquiris from the guy with the denim jacket."

"What denim jacket?" Dean asked, looking around for someone in a denim jacket.

The bartender glanced to his right. "He was here a minute ago. I guess he left."

"Well that's shady with a capital 'shade'."

"What's shady about banana daiquiris?" Sam took a drink of his.

"It's not the daiquiri, it's where the daiquiri came from."

"Just drink it, dude. What could happen?"

He reluctantly took a drink, and for a moment, nothing happened. But they all started feeling... different.

"Whoa. What... the-" And everything went black after that.

~The Next Morning~

Dean awoke to the smell of whiskey stinging his nostrils. He had a pounding headache that wouldn't shut up, causing him to groan in pain.

He sat up and realized that he wasn't wearing any clothes. He also noticed that there was someone else in bed with him, and he grinned. He must've picked up one of the girls from the bar.

He couldn't see who it was, as the sheet covered their face, but he saw a mess of dark hair. He was hoping for blonde, but "last night Dean" wouldn't have known better. And when he lifted the sheet to see who it was, he nearly had a heart attack.

Son of a bitch.

It was Cas.

What the hell happened last night? And, more importantly, why were he and Cas, neither of whom wearing any clothes, in the same bed? The answer was obvious, but he didn't want to jump to any conclusions. They both got blindingly drunk, who knows what could've happened?

He couldn't see Cas's face, as his back was facing him, so maybe it was a different guy with dark hair. Though, that would be even more of a concern, also a bad plot twist.

He gently shook Cas's shoulder. "Cas?" He murmured. "Cas!"

Cas groaned in pain, a migraine pounding in his head. "Where am I?"

"You alright, man?"

He rolled over and looked at Dean with an incredulous look. "Don't ask stupid questions."

"Believe me, my head is killing me, too."

He sat up, rubbing his forehead. "What happened last night?"

"You don't remember either?"

"No. There's just... blurriness. I... remember we went to the bar, and I quickly... drank it. And... something called a... banana daiquiri. And everything is... blank after that."

"Same here."

"Also," He paused, remembering something else. "A strong taste of... peanuts."

Dean chuckled softly. "I imagine so."

Cas looked down at himself and realized he was unclothed. He looked at Dean and saw that he wasn't wearing clothes either. "Dean, why are neither of us clothed?"

Dean blushed, having a feeling Cas would bring that up. "Well, I dunno. But... I think it... I think we might've... I mean, there's a good chance that we...-"

"Had intercourse?" Cas finished.

"Yeah. That. I have never been so damn drunk in my life. Well, maybe once."

"And how did you find out about the details of the night before?"

Dean scoffed. "You kidding? I woke up with two Asian girls, I find that sorta thing is best left to the imagination."

Cas thought for a moment. "Perhaps Sam will know something we don't."

"Yeah, maybe." He looked around for his phone. "Where's my phone?"

They both looked around, unable to find it, until they heard a buzzing sound. It must've been Dean's phone, wherever it was.

"Where's that coming from?" Dean asked.

Cas looked on the floor, and saw one of his socks vibrating. He grabbed it and found Dean's phone inside it. "I have found it." He handed Dean the phone, who answered it.

"Hello?"

"Uh... Dean?" Sam asked.

"Sam? Where are you? What happened last night?"

There was a brief pause. "You don't know either?"

Dean groaned. "Son of a bitch." He murmured. "Well, where are you?"

"The Impala. I'm outside the bar. It smells like vodka in here, man."

"Alright, well, get down here. We need to figure out what happened last night."

"Okay. See you there." And he hung up.

"What did he say?" Cas asked.

"He doesn't know either. We should get dressed before he shows up." He put his phone on the bedside table and looked for his clothes, which were scattered about the room.

"Will we inform him of our plausible intercourse?"

Dean gave him a stern look. "Hell no. What happened between us stays between us. Understand?"

Cas nodded. "Yes. No telling Sam."

"Now get dressed. We've got work to do."