Castiel's brow furrowed as he watched you, the alcohol coursing through your veins very clearly effecting your rational thinking. His larger hand went on top of yours, stopping you from getting another shot.

"No," Cas said plainly, watching your expression for a moment before he pulls your wrists towards him, settling you in his lap. "Dean said not to let you have more than 3 drinks."

His hands settle on your stomach, keeping you safe against his chest.

"You've already had 6."