Truth or Dare part 1

Dean didn't know how he had ended up on the threadbare bed sheets of an anonymous hotel room in an anonymous town. Neither did he know why Gabriel had become a part of the merry crew, but there he was, standing in a corner, his adoring eyes focused on Sam. He vaguely remembered Castiel mentioning something about a stakeout to keep an eye on a man, something about having a two-week waiting period until these things reveal themselves, something about flesh eating or man eating. Point is, he didn't remember. A violent tussle with a demon had left him a little weak that night, to the point where he could barely stay conscious. He'd had to surrender the keys to the Impala (not without a heated argument with Sam in which he insisted that he was perfectly capable of operating heavy machinery right before he collapsed to the ground) and let himself be stuffed into the backseat with Cas, who had, of course, babied him through the whole five-hour drive. Dean still doesn't remember much of the ride here, or what roads they took to get to where they are, but he vaguely remembers Castiel whispering to him that night, gingerly dabbing at his wounds, running soothing fingers over the bruises and stroking his aching body.
Sam's sneeze woke him from his reverie and he quickly realized that they were in some podunk town in a crappy motel room with two unpleasant looking beds and drab, grey wallpaper. He looked around the room frantically and found Cas perched atop a rather disgusting chair, staring intently through a crack in the curtains. Dean's heart skipped a few beats when he noticed the tiny, quick movements of Castiel's shocking blue eyes as they shifted from a stolen glance at him back to the window. Dean rose from the uncomfortable bed (smirking slightly at Castiel's tiny automatic shift in response to the movement) and planted his hands firmly on his hips. Sam slowly dragged his eyes from the book he was reading (an ancient, tattered ensemble of papers) and aimed an uninterested gaze upon Dean's stern face.
"Yes, Dean?" Sam drawled.
"Well, for starters, where the hell are we? Why are we here and why the fuck are we all lodged in one pathetic excuse of a room together?" Dean demanded.
Gabriel rolled his eyes and turned away from his "admiring Sam" position to glare at Dean.
"We are in some podunk town in a crappy motel room out in the middle of nowhere on some serious business. That's all you need to know. And we're all lodged in one filthy room together because the other rooms made this one look like the presidential suite at the Bellagio." Gabriel replied bitterly.
Dean blinked once, twice, his mouth opening and closing without a sound. He scanned the room again, wrinkling his nose at the dusty state of things. "Can't we just — "
"No, Dean." This time, it was Castiel's deep rumbling voice that replied. "We need to stay here. It is of the utmost importance that we remain in this exact location."
"What the hell are we looking for anyway?" Dean shouted.
"We don't know yet," Sam replied in a hushed voice. "All we know is that it's attracting demons like a magnet and is harder to find than a toothpick in a metric ton of hay."
Well, that's promising. Dean wasn't looking forward to this at all. "Anything else I should know?"
Gabriel's face quickly contorted into a monstrous pout; the look he imagined Becky would utilize if someone made her live without a working computer or a notebook for a month. He looked around the room, staring at each of the three faces questioningly. "WELL?" he demanded.
Castiel heaved a deep sigh. "We must maintain something of an Amish existence. No… angel mojo, television, cell phones or computers or anything of the sort. The frequencies of the waves they emit would cause a noticeable disturbance, which we must avoid at all costs. We basically need to become invisible for two weeks," he replied quietly.
Dean was absolutely dismal. No TV, no computer, hell, not even a microwave. And, gasp, NO MAGIC FINGERS. He searched the room frantically to find the lonely machine covered in a thin layer of dust. The sight of it made him feel like his heart was about to fall out of his butt. He was, however, somewhat pleased with the no angel mojo policy. At least Gabriel would behave himself (which, of course, is a relative term in Gabriel's case). He felt his coat for the flask of vodka he'd been keeping on his person lately. (One part holy water, two parts vodka, of course.) One large, noisy gulp later, he stuffed it back in his coat and stared at the statuesque bodies around the room again.
"Okay well, we can't just sit around here and twiddle our thumbs!" he said hoarsely as Sam tried to separate his fingers inconspicuously. "If we're having a sleepover, we have to have some fun, right? Right? I figure, we eat during the daytime and come back here to discuss whatever information we have and then we have hours to kill until we fall asleep right?" Dean looked around hopefully.
"Yeah," Gabriel replied bitterly. "We're having a nice little sleepover, Dean. Let's all braid each other's hair and talk about boys and play truth or dare. Ooh if we're lucky, things might just get frisky enough to get us all a glimpse of Sam's vagina!"
Sam's head whipped around, shooting knives, bullets, anvils and all sorts of sharp things at Gabriel with his eyes.
Dean considered it. "You know… that's not a bad idea."
Sam pulled one hell of a bitchface. "Dean, we are grown men! We can't just sit around and play silly games while we're on such a big job!" he shrieked. Dean chuckled.
"What is this game that you are referring to?" Castiel asked, his head cocked to the side (which made Dean's heart swell tightly in his chest).
"Well, Cas," Dean said with a smirk. "Truth or Dare is a simple game which involves someone having to choose between answering a question truthfully, hence the 'Truth' part or doing a dare," he explained.
Castiel's face lit up instantly. "Well, this game does conform to our strict rules for the stake out and we do not have other means of entertainment. And I believe both Dean and Sam would become prematurely senile without any stimulation for the next two weeks, so I am fully in favor of an on-going episode of this 'Truth or Dare,'" he announced proudly. Dean's smile was ridiculous when he turned to face Sam and Gabriel. Sam looked morose, shadows forming under his brow. He looked like he was ready to pummel Dean (he'd killed him about a dozen times in his head by the time Castiel has finished his little speech.) Dean suddenly realized why. Oh little Sammy. I guess he's still a little butthurt for the time I dared him to run down the street naked. It's not my fault Sarah or whatever her name was was walking her dog. She should've been happy to see the whole package. Or maybe it was that time I made him stuff a toy car up his –
"Okay so it's settled!" Gabriel announced, his face simply glowing with a mischievous smile. "Truth or Dare, every evening for the next two weeks. All in favor?"
Dean half raised his arm, two fingers pointing up while Castiel shot his arm straight up into the air with barely contained enthusiasm. Sam sunk even lower in his chair. He knew this would never end well. If he'd learned anything in his time with Dean, it was to NEVER, EVER UNDER ANY CIRCUMSTANCE EVER play Truth or Dare with him. Ever. Especially if Gabriel was involved, but if that's what the angel wants, then he'd play too. Sam smiled weakly up at Gabriel, whose face was still glowing.
Dean reached into his duffel and pulled out a bottle of… vodka?, shrugged, opened it up and took a huge sip before passing it to Sam.
"Drink up, everybody. This game's no fun if you're not shitfaced and ready to do all sorts of stupid things. Oh and some ground rules: nothing is off limits… well, except for the obvious. Don't make me fuck Sam or anything. Well, no daring someone to fuck anyone else in general okay? That's borderline rape."
Gabriel piped in, "What if it's consensual?"
Dean gave him a look. "I don't think I'm interested in watching you have your way with my kid brother okay? You can do that on your own time."
The tip of Sam's ears turned deep red and he sunk his chin into his chest, concentrating on the patterns of the filthy carpet.
A couple of mouthfuls of piss-warm vodka later, the buzz started to kick in. Dean spread himself out languidly on the bed sheets and patted the mattress, summoning Castiel to his side while Gabriel maintained his protective, arms-crossed stance behind Sam.
"Alright, let's get started," Dean slurred. "Sammy! Truth or dare?"
Sam looked like he was praying to be killed, right then and there. Please, please, please, send down a bolt of lightning or some hellhound, anything! Kill me now, kill me now, kill me now. He waited a few seconds, saw the absence of monsters and chaos, gave in to the sad truth that the reapers were probably content just watching and laughing at his misery instead of rescuing him, and grumbled a morose, dejected, "Truth."
Dean considered it for a minute. Wise choice, Sammy. He'd learned his lesson. Dean mulled over a few questions, then turned to Sam with a smile.
"Okay, Sammy. I've got a good one. I know you've probably engaged in horrific, disgusting acts of … horror with both, but which of Ruby's meatsuits were you into and… why?"
Sam shot him a dirty look. He hesitated. "The second one." He glared at Dean's raised eyebrows. "What? That's the one I had sex with!" He continued, ignoring Dean's wails of horror. "I liked the blonde, but you can't deny that the brunette had a much nicer body." Sam smiled to himself, recalling all the curves he'd become familiar with, the contours of her tiny body, the sounds she made when he touched her the right way. He'd never admit it, but he missed her sometimes. He snapped out of it to find Dean with a horrified expression on his face and a strange notion that something was missing. He turned to find Gabriel a few steps away from where he'd been before, staring at his feet with a blank expression on his face. Sam could've sworn he looks upset.
"Okay, Sam, your turn. Shoot," Dean stated gruffly.
Sam's eyes flitted around the room, from Castiel to Dean to Gabriel's general direction and stopped.
"Gabriel."
Gabriel shifted his weight and answered with a low hum.
"Truth or dare?" Sam almost whispered, a sly smile illuminating his face.