Losing Sleep (i)

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3.2K words; Destiel (Dean/Cas), canon!verse, bedsharing, human!cas


Dean loved that the bunker was old. He loved that it was a little dented in places, scuffed in others and broken in the rest. It reminded him of himself and Sam in a way. What he didn't love was that, much like himself, the damn place was always in need of fixing.

The newest problem was busted plumbing. It had flooded almost the whole East wing of their corridor. So now not only did he have to get up at the ass crack of dawn to check out the water damage and plumbing, but he also had to deal with a slightly damp, sleep rumpled ex-angel left stranded outside a flooded bedroom.

Cas was already not a morning person as it was. This morning found him in an especially dour mood, standing around in wet socks and pajama pants at 3a.m. He usually found half past ten to be an unreasonable time for the sun to be up but 3 a.m. was clearly taking things too damn far. It was plain as day in the red of his eyes.

While Sam found some supplies to temporarily mend the pipe, Dean and Cas mopped up the floors as best as they could. They worked in silence all the while but Dean was keeping a close eye on Cas. It was obvious that the other man was growing more frustrated by the second. He had a distinctly smite-y look on his face even if he didn't have the grace to follow through. Dean had been on the other end of that look enough times to know it was time to intervene.

"Hey Cas, y'know I think we've got things covered here. Why don't you go change out of those wet clothes and camp out in Sam's room?"

"Why can't he sleep in yours?" Sam glanced up, "My bed's already kinda small for me."

"Dean's it is then," Cas agreed not having the courtesy to wait for Dean to give an invitation or at least insist that he finish help them.

"Uh, Cas I don't think—."

"I need a shower. I don't want to think about where this water has been," he wrinkled his nose.

Before Dean could protest again, Cas was already on his way to the spare bathroom. He didn't know it was possible for someone to mop smugly until he looked over at Sam. "I don't know what's got you so pleased with yourself," Dean grumbled, "You're getting him tomorrow night." That didn't seem to bother Sam one bit. He just shook his bed hair away from his eyes and went back to cleaning up the bathroom.

** ** **

We are two mature adults stuck in the middle of a dumb accident. Dean smoothened out his sheets and gave his pillows an extra fluff. He ignored the anxious buzz thrumming in his veins at the thought. It's just one night. We can handle one night.

It was not, however, just one night. In fact it took an entire week for the repairs to be completed.

The first night was weird. Cas seemed to ignore any sense of common, sleepover decency as he decided that boxers and socks were all he was prepared to sleep in. Apparently he'd only put on his pajama pants earlier because he was leaving his room to see what was going on. Ordinarily he slept in next to nothing. A fact that was only coming to light right now.

Dean gave an undignified little splutter when he turned around to find six feet and one inch of tanned skin covered in nothing but plaid and white wool.

"Oh c'mon, Cas. For God's sake. Put on some pants...and a shirt."

"Why?"

"Do you need to make this weirder than it has to be?"

"Don't be a child, Dean," Cas rolled his eyes, "There's nothing I have that you don't."

Dean huffed and opened his mouth to say something else, but Cas was already climbing into bed and making himself at home. The ex-angel was too tired to stay awake for long, leaving Dean to just stare at his naked back. It was all lean muscle and smooth skin. Dean frowned and looked away. Staring at Cas like that was doing something funny to his stomach so he figured it was best to sleep facing the other direction.

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