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"Oh come on! Like I could move an angel who didn't want his ass moved," he protests. "I minded, but I needed sleep and you weren't goin' anywhere."

"I didn't say you didn't mind, I said you apparently didn't mind too much," he points out. "There's a difference."

"I minded plenty, jackass," he grumbles. "Just given the options--a crowded bed or a floor on fire--I didn't have much of a choice, did I?"

"The extra heat source doesn't seem to have hurt you any," Gabriel says, not batting an eye, given Dean's limpet impression while asleep.

"Shut up, man," Dean mumbles into his drink before taking a long swallow. "I was wiped. I was unconscious. I didn't know what the hell was goin' on at that point."

"Do I sound like I'm complaining?" Time for a swallow of his own drink.

"No," Dean looks at him warily, "But I'm actually considering askin' what it's gonna take for you to never mention it again. Ever."

"Lost cause." Time to change the subject before Dean dwells too much on it. "So, what was your last case?"

"Rugaru," Dean grimaces, although he appreciates the change of subject entirely way too much. "Poor bastard had already shifted totally. Had to burn him alive. You know, I get that they're monsters and everything, but the dude had a family. Before he turned. Two kids, picket fence."

He pulls another face, staring down at his bottle.

"Guess it's a small miracle the kids weren't around to see what we had to do. But still. They lost their dad and don't really know why. That's rough."

It's Gabriel's turn to grimace. "And the kids get to grow up to become monsters in turn for either you boys or someone else to deal with later."

The whole thing sucks and he decides it's time for another drink.

"No kidding," Dean sighs and stands to go to the refrigerator, both for another drink and just for something to do. "We're gonna keep tabs on them. Sammy thinks we can help them out before they change. That they've got a choice in the matter. S'long as they don't have a bite of the long pig before we can get to them."

He peers into the refrigerator, looking at the food there, although for once he doesn't have much of an appetite.

"Hey, you got any Jaeger? I feel like a Boilermaker right about now..."

"And just how many rugaru have you heard of that managed to not turn into one?" Gabriel asks pointedly as he twists around in his seat to watch Dean.

"I don't, because I didn't know I needed to make one." That was said about two seconds before a bottle appears on the counter. "Now there is."

"Not one for Jaeger, huh?" Dean grabs the bottle and then starts rummaging through his cabinets trying to locate glasses. "Don't get me started on that. We had a run-in a while back with one that was on the edge...then the poor s.o.b. teetered right over, tore our hunting buddy's neck out, and nearly took me down if Sam hadn't been able to get his way out of the closet he got trapped in. But Sam's all full of rainbows and sparklies, and I'm kinda done arguin' the point with him."

He'll find them eventually, along with assorted other dishes. Not that Gabriel really needs them, but they're good camouflage for the whole 'archangel' thing.

"It's probably a waste of breath that just results in the both of you being pissed off and frustrated," Gabriel agrees. "At least he still has some optimism. Way too many hunters become jaded bastards in fairly short order."

"No kidding. Kid's the only reason I haven't just plain given up sometimes," Dean admits, making his way back into the other room with his arms full of two fresh beers, the bottle of liquor, two shot glasses, and two bigger glasses. "Here. No way I'm gonna drink a Boilermaker alone. That'd be a little sad, even for me."

He clunks the lot onto the coffee table and starts setting them up, not waiting to see if Gabriel was actually going to join him. Hell, the angel had done karaoke with him, how would a Boilermaker be any worse?

"He's in his thirties. I'm pretty sure he's been considered an adult for awhile now," Gabriel points out easily before taking a swig of his drink. Hmm. Getting to be about time for another bottle.

"Know what's actually sad? Eating ice cream alone, in the dark, listening to emo music. Not that I expect you to do it, since you're not an over-emotional teenage girl."

"Nope, still a kid," Dean says firmly. "Speakin' as his older brother, I get to call him a kid until we're both gray of hair and long in tooth. "

He slides a beer glass in from of him then pours two shots of jaeger, holding on out to Gabriel.

"Well, change the emo music to AC/DC or some CCW and you've got me right on. Count of three?"

Gabriel needs to take a moment to stop laughing at the mental image conjured before he accepts the one from Dean. "For the record, given your job, that implies when you're elderly vampires. Or anything else with fangs. Anyway, sure."

"Yeah, yeah, shuttup and drink, smartass," Dean snorts, holding his own shot glass above his beer.

"One...two...three."

Then a splash and clunk noise and Dean's upending the beer into his mouth, chugging the foaming liquid as quickly as he can manage. Boilermakers are disgusting, but an awesome way to get plastered quickly.

Gabriel is able to one up Dean in the speed department by not needing to stop and breathe. He's done a little before Dean is, making a face. His issue isn't the alcohol but the taste. Blech.

Dean doesn't seemed perturbed by the fact that he's been beaten, for once. He merely lets out a (classy) belch when the glass lands back on the table, followed by a satisfied sigh.

"Man, that brings back them college days," he says. "You know. If I'd had them."

He eyes the bottle of Jager and briefly considers simply tipping the contents of it down his throat. But that's right up on the sad list so he dismisses it quickly.

He simply leans back on the couch instead, folding his arms behind his head.

"That hit the spot."

Dean only wishes it was classy.

"I'm pretty sure you would have been that guy that gets kicked out of his classes by the professors for being a pain in their collective ass," he observes as he snaps up a couple more bottles of his own alcohol before finishing the second one finally.

"Hey Kettle, it's me, Pot. Nice to meet you," Dean says with a lazy wave of his hand. He eyes the new bottles of liquor. "Someone's really plannin' on getting wasted, isn't he? Our conversation really drag you down that bad earlier?"

"I'm feeling the buzz. I'm taking that as warning I should probably get all I plan to drink now before I have to worry about powers going screwy." Gabriel is just going to ignore everything else, thank you.

"Good idea. No point tryin' to summon up a drink and windin' up with a bottle of fire instead." Dean snorts, remembering that last disaster.

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