A/N In which Sam doesn't come back early sequel
Cas was huddled up in Dean's jacket and on Dean's bed with his head resting against Dean's pillow and covered in Dean's bed sheets. Totally a normal, friend-bro thing to do. Especially as Dean was staring at the Angel as he sleep.
He realised the irony - telling Cas to stop staring when only now he was getting how addictive and peaceful it is. To watch the rise and fall of someone you loves chest is to watch a world breathe.
Castiel had been asleep for half an hour at least, and Dean was just watching the calm and resting features of the all-too-familiar face of Cas. It made it all the more special knowing Cas was still alive underneath all that rather than the cold, dead look in another reality.
Dean cleared his throat. "I know this sounds stupid but I'm going to talk to you, or basically myself, even if you're sleeping. I suppose in a way it makes it easier," he let out a small half chuckle half huff of breath.
Then he knelt forward on the floor next to Cas' head and placed one hand on Cas' one that was scrunching tightly at Dean's jacket. The other hand he ran through Cas' hair a little.
This felt too intimate, too personal now but there was no going back, definitely as it was he only time Dean could say jack shit. Dean was so close he could feel the light puffs of air Cas breathed out.
"I sometimes wish you knew how much you mean to me," he whispered, his tone low and husky. "Then you won't be...ugh. Tonight was good, wasn't it? Talking, feelings, TV, food, it was like a 8th grade girls sleepover without the satanic rituals. Or make up. I'm sure Sam wouldn't mind if we painted his nails and braided his hair though."
He kept carding Cas' hair, feeling it still damn from his shower earlier. It was so human, smelling musky and like cheap soap, him sleeping and eating and breathing.
Dean's heart melted and he let out a high sigh.
"Maybe if I told you how much you mean you wouldn't think about killing yourself. It's all my fault anyway. I dragged you into my life."
He then looked back to check that his brother hasn't snuck in. No, he was still alone.
"I should probably go to sleep now. So...goodnight, Angel." Now or never. Dean got up a little more, just enough to hover over his friend, before pressing a tender kiss onto his forehead.
He lingered on the kiss a bit longer than he should've, then drew back jerkily in realising what he'd done. And Cas was stirring, eyelids fluttering. Shit.
Before he could stand up, he was pulled down on top of Cas, to then roll over the other side of him on the bed.
"Cas?" he gasped. But it was a manly one. A manly gasp.
"Don't you dare it's your fault. It's not," Cas glared at him, hands still tight on Dean's shirt. They were practically lying down facing each other at this point. "Now I'm going to do what I should've millennia ago."
"Wha-" It was at this moment Dean realised, Cas surging toward him with slightly pouted and closed eyes, that he was going to be kissed, just like he wanted earlier.
He didn't protest when Cas was pressing his lips on Dean's, silently begging his lips for more. There was nothing to protest. He liked Cas, Cas liked him - simple.
Except it wasn't.
An angel of the Lord Dean had corrupted was currently trying to straddle him and running hands through his hair while teasing his tongue in his mouth. It was pleasurable, hot, slow, warm and undoubtedly intoxicating in Dean's humble opinion. But really this came with too many complications.
Screw complications.
"Did I read the 'signals' wrong Dean?" Cas breathed against his lips.
"No, no you didn't Cas. I thought kissing you would be taking advantage so...so I didn't."
"I...I wanted you to kiss me."
"All right. I will then."
~
They woke up in a tangle of limbs on Dean's bed under the covers, Dean's arms wrapped possessively around Cas, and one of his hands lay on Dean's chest. He hummed contently and curled up more into Dean's neck.
"Morning, Angel. Sleep well?" Dean kissed his forehead.
"Very well, thank you," he beamed up at him.
Dean peered over Cas to see his brother crashed out on Cas' bed, pillow over head as if he were expecting certain activities to take place. "Son of a bitch."
"What?" Cas said, more concerned this time.
"Sammy's back."
"So?"
"So... It doesn't matter," he sighed.
"What is it Dean? Tell me, please."
"I just...wanted this to work out and be a bit more special than we kiss and sleep and move on with hunting." Dean saw Cas' eyes puppying on him. "That we could talk a little more..."
"We can do that anyway, Dean. Anyway, you need to probably thank him for not coming back on time last night, otherwise we'd be sleeping in separate beds. Give him that, at least."
"Whatever, Cas," Dean smiled before capturing Cas' mouth in another kiss.