rock & revelry

metatron-the-transformer  asked:

TFW celebrate Sam's 33rd birthday at a rock concert. Drunken revelry ensues.

“Oh god, what was in that last drink?” Sam asked, head spinning.

“Good stuff!” Dean told him. “C'mon,” he grabbed Sam’s hand and pulled him through the long line of people. “Cas zapped himself in here and is waiting near the front for us.”

Sam let himself be tugged along, drunk and stumbling after his brother. “Dean, c'mon, slow down.”


They finally reached Cas, not three people from the front of the line. “You two are extremely intoxicated, would you like me to -”

Dean ducked out of the way of Cas’s healing fingers. “No! Being drunk is part of the fun.” He frowned. “Wish you were drunk, too. Gotta find something to get Cas drunk on.”

“Sorry we don’t have any Asgardian Ale,” Sam grinned.

Cas vanished and reappeared a second later, an old stone wear pitcher in his hand. “I was saving this for a special occasion, but your birthday definitely qualifies as one.”

“Whoa - is that like from Thor’s private stash?” Dean asked, awe in his voice.

“It was a gift,” Cas told him, a fond smile on his face. “We fought like brothers in a fierce battle, a very long time ago.”

“Gimme,” Sam reached for the jug.

“No, I’m afraid it’s too much for you. I’ll need to drink the entire thing to get drunk, and even a little would be too much for your body.”

“Well get on it then, Cas,” Dean grinned.

“What is this line for anyway?” Sam finally asked.

Pulling three concert tickets from his jacket, Dean grinned. “You were born in Kansas - so we’re seeing Kansas!”

“Dude, no one listens to them anymore!”

“I will have you know,” Dean snickered as Cas belched loudly behind him, “that Carry On Wayward Son is the official song of the Supernatural fandom - our fandom,” he clarified, “and their music has stood the test of time. And I forgot to get you a birthday gift and Cas was able to score the tickets for me and live a little, Sammy!”

“Ok,” Sam acquiesced. “But I want more liquor.”

Cas disappeared, leaving the empty jug behind. A second later, he was back with a bottle of Johnnie Walker. “Drink up,” he rumbled, “they don’t allow booze in the arena.” Producing shot glasses, he poured the first round, spilling a little, since he was utterly drunk off his ass.

By the time the doors actually opened, all three of them were completely wasted and the bottle of whiskey was gone, although they did share it with the ladies in line behind them, and hadn’t drunk the whole thing themselves.

The show was amazing and by the end of it, Sam was singing Carry On Wayward Son at the top of his lungs, surprised that Dean wasn’t singing with him. Turning to find his brother, he wasn’t even a little surprised to find him and Cas making out like they were running out of time.

It was the best birthday he’d ever had.