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“I can’t sleep.” Dean whines and Cas knows exactly where this is going.
It’s nearing 2 in the morning, Cas has been stubbornly stationed at the map table, researching the monster for their newest hunt. Dean rubs his eyes and stares across the large expanse of the room that separates them, waiting. He groans softly and lets his head fall back, reaching out and making grabby hands towards the angel.
“C’mon,” he whines again. “I wanna sleep.”
Cas finds that 2 am, exhausted Dean Winchester is way less hesitant to state his feelings. With a smile, Cas stands. “Alright,” He shuts the book, the heavy thump echoing in the still nighttime air. “I’m coming.”
Dean crosses his arms, lifting his head to watch the angel maneuver around the tables, turning off lights as he slowly closes the gap between him and his hunter. When he finally gets there, he stands in front of Dean with a smile and pulls him in close for a hug. They stand like that for a moment, but Dean starts to lean more and more of his weight on Cas, and the angel realizes he’s falling asleep on his feet. He places a gentle kiss in the soft, messy strands of Dean’s hair, and gently pushes him off his chest, coaxing him back towards the direction he had come.
It’s a farther walk than Cas had realized, or maybe Dean was more tired than he noticed because halfway there he has to scoop the hunter into his arms and carry him the rest of the way to their room, so he doesn’t collapse right onto the floor.
“Can’t sleep without you,” Dean says, wrapping his arms around Cas and pressing his nose into the crook of his neck.
“I know,” Cas says gently, not wanting to disturb him. “I’m sorry for keeping you waiting.”
“Damn right,” Dean mumbles, trying to keep his eyes open.
Cas settles them onto their bed, the door shut safely behind them. He quickly toes off his shoes and folds his clothes into a neat pile on the chair in the corner, not wanting to stray from Dean’s side for too long, in case it rips him from his sleepy state. He digs around in the dresser drawers in the dim lamplight, scrounging up an old Led Zeppelin t-shirt and an oversized pair of sweatpants which he puts on before turning back to assess Dean, laying on the bed. He stares at the hunter, framed by the soft glow of the lamp, golden skin highlighted in the darkness of the room. Green eyes watch him back, clouded with sleep but sparkling with mirth even still.
“Stop starring at me, ya big weirdo and come cuddle.” He demands, exhausted but authoritative, and when could Cas say no to Dean?
He lets out a soft chuckle and crawls onto the bed, securing himself in a position next to Dean, facing him. He clicks the light out and wraps his arms around the hunter, pulling him close and tucking his head under his chin. His hand reaches up to thread through soft locks of hair, and Cas pulls back for just long enough to press a kiss to Dean’s forehead, before returning to their original position.
“G’night Cas,” Dean mumbles, and its the last thing he says before his breathing evens out.
Cas smiles softly as his hunter drifts off, safe in his arms. “Goodnight, Dean.”