Okay, so it took an awful lot of booze to get Castiel drunk, He was trying as hard as he could, drinking shots as fast as they could be lined up, but it seemed to take forever even to take the edge off the room, nevermind the positive riot of noise that was the inside of his head.
His thoughts were all over the place, wound up in circles with Crowley and Raphael and Sam and Dean, but he was trying to drink all thought of them away, to just exist in the moment with Balthazar, not as an angel, or a rebel, or a leader, or any of the things he didn't think he was worthy of being any more. It was all falling apart, and he had no intention of dwelling on any of it--if only he could drink enough to wash it all away.
Raising his hand, he stilled the endless pouring.
"Just pass me the bottle," he directed. Bottle to mouth. Skip the middle man. Classy.
Balthazar is more than happy to oblige Castiel's whims at first. It's not often his favourite brother wants to drink, and even less so when he actually wants to get drunk. There's something in the way he downs shot after shot almost as fast as Balthazar can fill their glasses, though, that concerns him. Like he's trying to drown himself, or something in his own mind. Maybe, Balthazar thinks, he pushed a little too far in their earlier conversation. Maybe he's crossed a line.
He stops mid-pour as Castiel raises his hand and demands the bottle, head tilting in mild concern, as he hesitates. "Castiel. I hope this wasn't something I said."
Castiel made a soft noise of discontent and frustration, staring across at Balthazar with a kind of withering irritation. He wanted that bottle - any bottle - anything that would shut the world and all its noise out. But it didn't come. Balthazar was now holding out on him.
He scowled.
"If I were mad at you, do you imagine I would be drinking with you? I have been inebriated before. I have no intention of...of..."
What was he trying to say? It had slipped from his mind completely. He grimaced, and looked down at his hand, still wrapped around his previous empty glass.
"Don't you wish, sometimes, to simply be able to step away from what we are? I am an angel, of course, but..."
Balthazar shrugs. He supposes Castiel's desire to get drunk with him mostly rules out the idea that this is something he's precipitated. "I suppose that's a reasonable point."
He relents and slides the bottle across the table, before retrieving another one for himself from the liquor cabinet. "Step away from what we are? I think I did that when I left Heaven, don't you?" He cracks open the second bottle and pours himself a glass, "But yes, I understand what you mean. There's certainly nothing wrong with blowing off a bit of steam once in awhile."
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His thoughts were all over the place, wound up in circles with Crowley and Raphael and Sam and Dean, but he was trying to drink all thought of them away, to just exist in the moment with Balthazar, not as an angel, or a rebel, or a leader, or any of the things he didn't think he was worthy of being any more. It was all falling apart, and he had no intention of dwelling on any of it--if only he could drink enough to wash it all away.
Raising his hand, he stilled the endless pouring.
"Just pass me the bottle," he directed. Bottle to mouth. Skip the middle man. Classy.
no subject
He stops mid-pour as Castiel raises his hand and demands the bottle, head tilting in mild concern, as he hesitates. "Castiel. I hope this wasn't something I said."
no subject
He scowled.
"If I were mad at you, do you imagine I would be drinking with you? I have been inebriated before. I have no intention of...of..."
What was he trying to say? It had slipped from his mind completely. He grimaced, and looked down at his hand, still wrapped around his previous empty glass.
"Don't you wish, sometimes, to simply be able to step away from what we are? I am an angel, of course, but..."
no subject
He relents and slides the bottle across the table, before retrieving another one for himself from the liquor cabinet. "Step away from what we are? I think I did that when I left Heaven, don't you?" He cracks open the second bottle and pours himself a glass, "But yes, I understand what you mean. There's certainly nothing wrong with blowing off a bit of steam once in awhile."