Work Text:
“Not happening.”
“Dean, it’s one night and only a few hours.”
Dean sighed and crossed his arms like a pouting child, which was basically what he was being. Cas was standing to the left of him by the couch, packing his trench coat into Dean’s bag, and pushing the heels of the his shoes to put them at the end of the couch. Sam was laying on the other bed, laptop on his lap, already ready for bed, grinning and trying to keep from laughing.
They had gone to Washington State for a few days (an old fashioned ghost problem. Simple, and easy enough.). On the drive back to the bunker, in Idaho, they decided that they would spend the night in a hotel and head home in the morning. But when Cas refused to sleep on the couch, and the boys weren't willing to share beds, things got complicated.
Cas wanted a bed. Which wasn't really that big of a deal, Sam thought. Sam had offered that Cas share his bed, but after figuring that Sam’s height might make a difference when it came to covers, Cas had said, he should share with Dean.
That’s when Dean started pouting.
Cas pulled out a pair of sweats (ever since he moved in to the bunker, he had bought at least 10 pairs. He was in love with the things), and a old, faded t shirt, and turned to Dean, shaking his head and then walking to the bathroom, shutting the door behind him.
“I think you hurt his feelings.”
Dean turned to Sam.
“Oh, well I’m oh so sorry that I don’t want to share.”
“Dude, it’s for one night. You’ll be fine.”
Sam went back to typing who knows what on his computer, and Dean just sighed. He was already ready for bed, an old pair of sweats and his classic Led Zeppelin. Not what he usually wore, but he wasn't at the bunker.
“Sharing a bed with Cas...” Dean thought to himself.
It wasn't a huge problem, to anyone else. But to Dean, it kinda was.
The bathroom door opened and Cas walked out, and it took everything Dean had to not stare. He just looked so human, so much more real than he ever had.
Cas flipped the bathroom light off, and sat down at the left side of the bed.
He looked over at Dean like he expected him to say something mean or rude, like refusing again to let Cas sleep there.
Instead, Dean just sighed, stood up, and walked to the right side of the bed, Sam and Cas’s eyes on him the whole time, and pulled back the covers, and laid down, pulling them back over him.
He looked at Sam, who was staring.
“What?”
“Nothing, just making sure you’re okay there.”
He closed his laptop and sat it on the table in between the bed, and pulled back his own covers, climbing into bed.
Dean looked over at Cas, who was still sitting up on the side of the bed, looking over his shoulder at Dean, and all Dean could think about was when Cas first showed up to wake him. It was so long ago, but Cas had the same amazed look on his face.
“What were you dreaming about?”
Dean stared back for a moment, like he had before.
“Well, are you going to lay down or what?”
A small smile flashed on Cas’s face before he sat up slightly off the bed to pull back his side of the covers and climbed under. He noted Sam’s smile before Sam pulled the string on the lamp on the table and the room when pitch black.
It was silent for a long time. Dean could hear Sammy’s soft snores coming from the right of him, and Cas’s breathing. Cas’s breathing. He was going to have an anxiety attack if he kept thinking about Cas laying right next to him.
He tried to focus on something else, anything else. He thought of Sam, of the bunker, found some songs to play in his head, and...well there was really nothing else if he left out Cas, was there?
He felt his breathing go a bit shallow and he flipped onto his stomach, head facing Sam, and tried to calm himself down. Like the man he had been been making eyes for wasn't sleeping right next to him.
“Dean, are you okay?”
Cas’s whispering voice shocked Dean.
“He should be asleep.”
Dean swallowed, his mouth dry.
“Yeah, Cas, I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound fine.”
“Cas, I said I’m fine.”
Dean’s voice rose a little, and he heard Sam snore and then roll over in his bed. Then there were covers moving and Cas’s hand was on his shoulder.
An automatic reaction, Dean flipped over onto his back and faced Cas. He couldn’t see him but he knew the man’s face was close to him.
They could both feel each other trying to find each other in the darkness.
Silence.
Then, “I’m sorry.”
Dean couldn’t see it but he knew Cas well enough to know that his head was turned a little to the side.
“For what?”
His hand was still on Dean’s shoulder.
“For freaking out like that.”
And Dean would be lying if he said it bothered him.
Cas sighed and Dean could feel his breath.
“It’s okay, Dean.”
Dean let out the air he had been holding in, and felt Cas lay back down on his stomach. He could feel Cas’s breath on his shoulder, and his hand move down to his elbow.
Dean would be lying if he said that it bothered him in the slightest.
Sam woke up early in the morning, at 7:00, a hour before Dean usually wanted to leave. He rolled himself to the right side of his bed, and stood facing the window for a moment. He didn’t want to get up, he wanted to sleep forever, but that wasn't anything new. He turned to walk to the end of the bed, and stopped short at the sight he saw.
Dean and Cas, laying together. Dean was still on his back like he had been when Sam last saw him before he turned out the lights, but Cas was right next to him. His head was on Dean’s shoulder, right arm across Dean’s stomach, and Dean had leaned his head down on Cas’s and wrapped his arm around Cas’s waist. They looked so peaceful and sweet.
And Sam couldn't help but laugh.
He had to cover his mouth so the other two wouldn't wake up, and he made his way to around his bed, past theirs, and to the bathroom. Every time he looked at them, he smiled and laughed a little more, because all he could think:
“I called that.”