Destiel! (3)

Dean's phone vibrated on the nightstand at 3:30 in the morning. Half asleep, he fumbled around until he found it and frowned when he saw your name on the screen. He answered, his voice still hoarse from sleep, expecting to hear some kind of emergency, but there were only a few seconds of silence on the other end, accompanied by some heavy breathing. Dean sat up immediately, suddenly clearing his head as he realized something was wrong.

"Cas... are you okay? What happened?"

Dean ran a hand through his hair, listening to your voice on the other end of the phone and immediately recognizing that you were drunk. He sighed, though a small smile crept across his face as he imagined you trying to hold a coherent conversation at that hour.

"Wait, wait... are you drunk? Damn, Cas. How much have you drunk? And, most importantly, where are you?"