The New York Hotel

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Dean plopped down on the couch in his living room, leaning his head back and taking a deep breath in. Everyday for the past week, there has only been one specific person on his mind. And Dean hates himself for it. Dean groaned a little as he slid down in a comfortable position, resting his hands on his face. For the last seven days, Dean has gone to Castiel's Grand Suite to clean and do his job, his gut filled with fear, anticipation, and excitement. But he was always let down because Castiel wasn't there. At least, not at the time. Ever since that Friday, Castiel has been a no show.

Maybe it's for the best, Dean thought as his breaths calmed down a little. He just got home from a twelve hour shift, and he was exhausted. Just like the past week, Castiel wasn't here today. So, Dean did what he normally does when Castiel isn't, er, /home/. Along with his main duties, Castiel will usually leave a small sticky note on the fridge with a few things that Dean could do, if he so chooses. Dean does them anyways because they aren't majorly big and he could care less. It's part of his job anyways. It was even in the description.

If the guest wants you to do side jobs, to a certain extent, then you will complete those side jobs, for this is their home while they are here at The New York Hotel.

Dean sat up a little and then decided he needed to take a shower. Yes, a hot shower sounded amazing. Sam was at some school activity so he would be a little while. Dean had about another hour or two before Sam got home and they called some pizza place for dinner. Dean stood up and slowly made his way to the bathroom. He locked the door, put his phone on the counter and set the notification volume on high, and then turned the shower knob to the right. He held his hand out under the separate streams of water until he got it to the right temperature, and then started to get undressed. He was about to step in the water when he heard a loud bang come from inside the living room. Dean's eyebrows furrowed and he grabbed a towel, wrapping it around his waist quickly. He turned the shower off and the quietly grabbed the bat from under the sink. (This is not the first time that there was a loud bang while Dean or Sam was in the bathroom. They decided to keep a bat in here for instances like these.)

Dean slowly walked out, his grip on the bat turning his knuckles white. He slowly peeked around the corner to see who was tearing his living room up.

"God dammit!" a loud voice shouted. Dean relaxed a little but he didn't let the bat go. It was his father, but he was on a rage. Dean had to learn the hard way that it's better to have a weapon nearby when John is like this.

"Dad." Dean said calmly. "Why are you tearing the living room apart?"

John turned around, a crazed look in his glossy eyes. "Where is my liquor? Where is my whiskey?"

Dean gripped the bat tightly even though it was lowered and out of sight. "I threw it away."

"You what?" John shouted loudly. "You threw my whiskey away?"

Dean nodded, trying to stay calm. "Yes."

"Why the fuck would you throw my liquor away boy? I'm the adult in this house! That's not your responsibility!"

Dean scoffed. "I'm the one who's paying the bills. And you're only here for maybe three nights out of one month."

"Don't you cop an attitude with me," John said deeply, glaring at Dean. "I bought that with my own damn money!"

"I don't care!" Dean retorted. "You weren't here and Sam was getting curious. I threw it out so that it wouldn't be a bother. Where have you been, anyways? Hm? You've been gone for two weeks and then you show up out of the blue, messing my apartment up, and cursing me out because I threw your liquor away. What gives you the right?"