"Hey, Cas," Dean whispers, his voice coming from somewhere near Castiel's ear — though he's too tired to open his eyes to see where he is.
"Hmm?" Castiel hums.
"You don't have to get up, but I'm leaving," Dean tells him. "I'll be back in a few hours, okay?"
"Mm, don't," Castiel mumbles, reaching over in what might be the direction Dean's voice is coming from. "Cuddles."
Dean chuckles softly. "As much as I would rather cuddle, I have to go to work. It's not really optional." He presses a kiss to his fiancé's cheek. "Bye, Cas. I'll see you soon."
Castiel rubs his eyes and sits up, fighting back a yawn. "Don't leave. I still have to say 'goodbye.'"
"You can say it now, silly," Dean says, amused.
"No, I have to follow you," Castiel says. "It's not optional." He pushes himself to his feet and takes Dean's hand.
"Can you follow me to the kitchen so I can fix your bandaids?" Dean asks.
Castiel sighs dramatically. "Fine."
They don't drop each other's hand until they're in the kitchen, where Dean pulls out the first aid kit. He leaves the gauze and medical tape on the counter, then peels Castiel's "bandaids" off for him.
"God, I look like I got attacked by a mountain lion," Castiel mutters, looking down at the scratches on his chest in dismay.
"A mountain lion?" Dean repeats, amused.
Castiel just shrugs, smiling sheepishly.
"If I just leave this here, can I trust you to put the gauze on, even in the incredibly tired state you're in right now?" Dean asks. "'Cause I kinda have to get to work."
Castiel nods. "Yeah, I'll fix it myself. You have to not get fired."
Dean chuckles. "They're not going to fire me for being late, Cas."
"Then stay here," Castiel mumbles, wrapping his arms around the boy.
"Unfortunately," Dean says, pushing Castiel away gently, "that's not really an option. Now, I'm going to actually leave, before you keep me here any longer."
Castiel sighs. "Okay, fine. Be that way."
Castiel takes his fiancé's hand, their fingers interlaced out of pure habit. Castiel walks him to the door, holding on to every last moment together. Dean leans down slightly to kiss him goodbye just as he's opening the door — multitasking at its finest — and...
"Castiel!"
He freezes, staring out at the crowd surrounding their house. It's about 20 people, which is a smaller crowd than he's seen at his house before, but right now, it's completely overwhelming. They all have their phone cameras pointed at the two, both of whom pause to process what's happening for what feels like an hour, though it can't be much longer than a couple seconds.
"Okay, what the actual fuck is this?" Dean asks quietly.
Castiel shakes his head. "Forget it. You go, I'll lock the doors, and call me when you come back so I don't think one of them is trying to break into the house."
"Are you gonna be able to feed the cat?" Dean asks.
Castiel sighs. "Yeah, I'll just grab my trench coat — crap, I don't have my trench coat anymore."
"Ooh, wait, hold on." Dean takes Castiel's hand and pulls him back in the house, quickly shutting the door behind him. "I meant to give this to you yesterday and then I was allergic to you and I forgot." He leads his fiancé to the basement, where he hands him a box. "It's from the Julian guy. I think it's the trench coat. I'm not entirely sure."
"Don't you have to get to work?" Castiel asks. "Do you have time for this?"
Dean waves a hand dismissively. "I'll discreetly take a video of the people standing out there and use that as an excuse if I'm late. Come on, open it."
Castiel pulls the flaps of the box off, opening it in a new and inventive way. There's a note on top, which he puts aside to pull out what's in it. At first, Castiel thinks it's just his trench coat. It almost looks as good as new until he has it completely out of the box, and he sees some blood stains on the sleeves.
Castiel quickly puts it aside, getting it out of his sight so he can look at what's left in the box — yet another trench coat. It's a darker tan color, and it looks like it might be a couple inches shorter than his old one, but it's not that bad.
"Ah, see? It's great," Dean says with a grin. "Now I'm gonna go fight my way through the crowd and get to my car, and hopefully I'll get to run a few people over today."
Castiel sighs. "Please don't start something."
Dean scoffs. "They're the ones starting something! This is my house — my own private house on private property that I don't even think they're legally allowed to be on. If they get run over by my car, I'm throwing a damn party."
Castiel rolls his eyes. "Look, you should be able to get to your car with no problem. People don't usually come look for me to cause problems. Ask them to move and they'll probably do it, but honestly, you shouldn't even need to ask. Now go. You have places to be, and I have a bed to get back to."
As much as Dean tries to be upset, his small smile's impossible to hide. "Okay, you can go be lazy. I've got my nice eleven cups of coffee in me and I'm ready to roll." He presses a kiss to the top of Castiel's head. "Bye — unless you're coming to the door with me."
"Yeah, I'll follow."
They walk to the door together, though Castiel carefully stays out of view. Dean notices when he's in the doorway, and he glances behind the wall, where Castiel's watching him.
"This is as far as I'm going," Castiel says. "Don't want to scare anyone with my face, you know?"
Dean chuckles. "What are you talking about? I think you're a beautiful scratching post."
Castiel bitchfaces him, and Dean just laughs as he walks away, shutting the doors behind him. Castiel immediately rushes over to lock it, then leans against it with a sigh. Nap time now?