Drink Up, Me Hearty

shiphitsthefan:

“Arrr!”

Cas startles from sleep, heart pounding, chest heaving for breath.  Goosebumps immediately prickle his arms where he’s jolted out of his cocoon of blankets, exposing himself to the perpetual chill of the bunker.  He looks at the door, expecting some kind of threat, but instead sees Dean with a bandana wrapped around his head and an eyepatch.

“Did you injure yourself?” Cas asks, squinting at him.

“Nay, we be gentlemen o’ fortune today.”  He waggles his eyebrows and adds, “So show a leg, raise your anchor, and stand by to be boarded.”

“I don’t understand.”

“Don’t be a squiffy, me beauty,” says Dean lasciviously as he walks into the room and closes the door behind him.  "I intend to thoroughly swab your deck.“

If Cas squints any harder his eyes will shut.  "Now I really don’t understand.”

“You’ve been alive for approximately a jillion years, and you don’t know how to babble like a buccaneer?” asks an incredulous Dean.  "You’re a lily-livered landlubber instead of a savvy lagger?“

“What does lag have to do with this?  Can Charlie help?”

“No, I mean that–oh son of a biscuit eater.”  Dean sighs heavily and slumps, dropping all of his jolly posture.  "It’s Talk Like a Pirate Day, Cas.“

“Why?” asks Cas as Dean plops down on the bed beside him.

“I don’t know, because it’s fun?”

“How is the celebration of those who terrorize and rob vessels at sea ‘fun’?”

Dean rolls his eyes and lets himself fall back into his pillow.  "Dude, why can’t you just go with it?  I have been waiting for a whole month to be the Jack Sparrow to your Will Turner and then you go and scuttle the saucy ship.“

"Oh,” Cas says quietly.  "Is this like the time you wanted to smuggle my lightsaber in your Millennium Falcon?“

"Yes, this is exactly like that,” replies an exasperated Dean.

“I see.”

“Look, just don’t worry about–”

“No, Dean,” Cas says, moving to straddle him.  "I am always amenable to…“  He stops, wrinkling his nose as he struggles with the parlance.  "Hoisting your colors?”

Dean’s frown slowly turns into a smirk.  "Is that a hornpipe in your pajamas, Cap'n, or are you just happy to see me?“

"I’d be happier if you’d stop talking, cabin boy.”

“Aye aye,” Dean replies, weaving his fingers into Cas’ hair as he leans over him.  "Plunder away.“

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