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Castiel blinks his eyes open drowsily, the blurry image of Dean's peaceful face in front of him always the most beautiful and lovely of things to wake up to. His hunter always looks more vulnerable and young in his sleep; the lines in his forehead and around the corners of his mouth smoothed out, jaw slightly slack, hair tousled, cheeks slightly flushed a rosy pink. Cas would never be reckless enough to tell Dean this to his face, but the older Winchester's adorableness in sleep warms Cas' heart. He smiles fondly, admiring the curvature of Dean's full lips at this angle. Castiel would be content to revel in the perfection of his beloved forever, and right now, that is exactly what he intends to do. He will never, ever find an end to treasuring each morning after making love, waking up entangled in each other, in a blissful haze. How they'd kiss each other awake, the kisses lingering and deep and brimming with the extent of their love for each other. At the thought, Cas reaches up, lips seeking, and presses a soft kiss affectionately to Dean's chest, which is what his lips can reach in the position he is in.
The two of them have discovered how completely addicted to cuddling they are, ever since they made that first night Castiel slept in Dean's bed. He hasn't slept anywhere since. Castiel nestles closer in the protective embrace of Dean's arms around his waist, snuggling up against the hunter's chest, tucking his head underneath Dean's chin and breathing in the heady scent of Dean in the mornings. Cas sighs in sheer euphoria and contentment, allowing his eyes to fall closed as his body conforming to the muscular lines of Dean's. The angel feels safer than he ever has here, where he can melt against Dean, knowing without a doubt Dean will hold him together. Even in sleep, Dean's arms tighten around his angel protectively, and Cas kisses the hollow at the base of Dean's throat to soothe him and let him know Cas is fine, Cas is safe, Cas is right here, in the only place where Dean can relax. The one place he knows he can always hold his angel and know that he is safe.
Castiel's throat kisses pull Dean into consciousness. Dean shifts slightly, pulling Cas even closer to him, and with his eyes still closed, reaches down to kiss the crown of Cas' head, his thumb stroking up and down over a patch on Cas' ribs. Cas gazes adoringly up at Dean, waiting for him to open his eyes, knowing he'll do so when he's ready. "Good morning, my Beloved," Cas greets Dean warmly, his heart feeling soft in his chest at the sleepy, disarming smile Dean gives him, and another kiss, this one on Cas' forehead.
"Mornin'," Dean kisses the word against Cas' lips, and Cas kisses him back, their lips rising and dipping in a wonderfully sleepy, gentle rhythm. The gratifying rake of Dean's stubble against Cas' cheeks, the way Dean tries to fall back to sleep by carding his fingers through Cas' mussed up sex hair, Cas will never get enough of these things.
"M' hungry. Text Sam... tell him to bring us donuts and coffee... m'be bagels? Yeah. Bagels," Dean declares sleepily, and Cas chuckles.
"Sam is still at Ariel's house, remember, Dean? I will make you breakfast," Cas offers, already starting to pull free of Dean's strong grasp. Dean shakes his head, finally opening his eyes, which are strikingly green and bright in the mornings.
"No, stay with me. Don't get up yet. Let's just cuddle some more," Dean protests, squeezing Cas tighter. Cas brushes a kiss over Dean's throat, then rolls out of bed. Dean makes a sound of protest, but allows Cas to do so. "Fine, but I want you back in five minutes, 'kay? I'm not ready to get out of the afterglow just yet," Dean compromises.
"I'll be fast," Cas promises, then hurries out of the room, heading towards the kitchen. Since him and Dean are the only ones home, he doesn't bothering throwing on any boxers or clothes. He knows Dean likes it better like that, anyway.
Castiel has never made breakfast before; he's only ever watched Sam or Dean make it. He's seen the brothers make coffee so many times, he has no trouble at all pouring the ground coffee into a coffee filter, loading it into the coffee maker, pouring in some water to the other compartment, and finally setting the coffee pot in the right spot. He flicks the switch on, listening to the gurgling as it starts to work, then contemplates what else he should make. Dean had said just five minutes, so Cas isn't going to attempt to fry eggs and bacon or anything elaborate and time consuming like that. "Dean!" Cas calls.
"Yeah?" Dean yells back, voice still deeper from just waking up.
"What do you want for breakfast?"
"How 'bout something easy? Toast?" A long silence follows.
"How do you make toast?" Castiel can hear Dean laughing all the way from their bedroom.
"Take a few slices of bread out of the bag by the microwave and put them in the toaster. Plug the toaster into the wall, then push down on the button and it will become toast. When it's done, you can put butter or jelly on there," Dean instructs. Cas nods.
"Okay, they will be done in just a few minutes."
Castiel follows Dean's thankfully simple instructions, removing a few pieces of bread from the loaf on the counter, then deposits them into each slat in the toaster. He plugs the black cord into the outlet in the wall, then presses the silver button, trusting the heat setting is on the right one. He waits now, not sure how he'll know the toast is done, but not wanting to screw it up. Cas waits two minutes, counting the seconds in his head, and the toast still hasn't given any signs of being cooked enough. Maybe it isn't supposed to? Maybe he's just supposed to look inside and take a guess. Cas turns the toaster over on its side on the counter, then peers into the slots at the bread, the slight heat emanating from the device warming his face. He cocks his head to the side and squints in focus, and it's just then, a startling noise erupts spontaneously from the toaster and the four slices of toast come shooting out at the angel, launched from the toaster with a great amount of force.
Cas makes a surprised noise and stumbles back, manifesting his angel blade instinctively into his hand. His initial shock fades as he stares down at the harmless toast flung across the floor, just as Dean sprints into the kitchen. He is naked as well, but gripping a gun in his hands, face contorted into a look of concentration, determination, and concern. He flings himself in front of Castiel, a distinctly protective stance, as his eyes roam around the kitchen, in search of whatever must be threatening his angel. After no threat makes itself known, Dean first notices the toast on the floor, then looks over his shoulder at Cas, who has his angel blade in hand and a bewildered expression on his face. Dean opens his mouth to ask what happened, when Cas beats him to the punch.
"You did not tell me they would fly out of there," Castiel breathes, wide-eyed. Dean stares at him for a moment, absorbing what he just said, then throws back his head and begins to howl with hysterical laughter, the sound playful and making a smile tilt the corners of Cas' mouth up. It's a very long while before he calms down enough to speak in between fits of laughter.
"Shit, I'm sorry, Cas. You're supposed to keep the toaster upright, and they tell you when they're toasty enough by popping up. They weren't supposed to fly all over the floor." Dean's sent into another breathless round of guffaws. Cas looks down forlornly at the toast.
"Can we have honey on them?"