Supernatural bible of Oneshots

Cold | 7

Pairing- Dean/Castiel or Destiel

Summary- Cas is cold and I'm tired so fuck summarys just read it.

Warnings- like nothing lol. Cuddles.

"Dean, I'm cold."

"Then put a sweater on," Dean replies, leaving his back to Cas and carrying on
with cleaning the dishes.

"I am wearing a sweater," Cas remarks grumpily. Turning to focus his attention on Cas, Dean doesn't even bother to comment on the garish sweater that Cas has on. Dean has long since stopped asking where the hell Cas gets his ridiculous ensembles from and how each purchase of clothing  somehow manages to be uglier than the one before. Today's sweater is no different; red and green patterned stripes with a freaking robin plastered on the front of it to top the ugliness off. Honestly, Dean would wonder whether Cas is colour blind if it wasn't for the other week where Cas had gotten drastically drunk and kept mentioning how green Dean's eyes were over and over.

"Why is it so cold?" Cas asks accusedly like it's Dean's fault, crossing his arms and huddling in on himself.

"It's the middle of winter Cas," Dean rolls his eyes, "What did you expect?"

Cas pouts at that like a freaking petulant child, eyes sliding over to the radiator, "Did you turn the heating system on?"

"Sam did before he left," Dean answers, "He set it up nice and high because he knows how you can bitch about it."

Cas pointedly chooses not to comment on that, instead saying frostily, "Well, it doesn't appear to be working."

Frowning, Dean dries his hands before making his way to the radiator, placing a cautious hand on it before realising that Cas is right, what had been boiling hot earlier is now only lukewarm.

"Shit."

"There must be a malfunction. Do you know where the controls are?" Castiel asks calmly and with the way he says it and his stupid raised eyebrow, Dean knows Cas is getting a little kick out of proving Dean wrong, the little shit.

"No," Dean sighs, "I don't."

Cas' eyebrow stays annoyingly upright as he states, "This is your home and you don't know where or how the-"

"For fucks sake Cas, have you seen the size of this place?" Dean grouches, "Just wait till Sam and Kevin get back from town. Sam was the one who got it set up and working in the first place, I'm sure he'll know how to fix the stupid thing."

"But that could be hours Dean," Cas practically whines, wrapping his arms even tighter around himself.

"Well if you're that bothered, try and find it yourself," Dean says flippantly, too tired for this shit.

Cas watches him for a moment, giving him the regular 'if I had my powers, I would smite the shit out of you' face before stalking off to wherever he had come from within the bunker. With an elongated sigh, Dean goes back to cleaning and rinsing the dirty cutlery, hoping that Sam and Kevin will come back quick enough before Cas gets his full grump on and throws a tantrum.

After he's finished up in the kitchen, starting to take note that yep, the rooms are starting to drastically cool down, he figures that he may as well kick back and watch some television to reward himself.

What he finds is that the couch is already being occupied by a mound that looks suspiciously like Cas, head peeking out of a mass of blankets. Cas has apparently taken Dean's advice and he's added yet another sweater, his favourite one if Dean remembers right, one that's three sizes too big and hangs off one of his shoulders, bright blue with a fucking rabbit on the front (seriously, where the fuck does he get this shit).