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Dean laid underneath the scratchy blanket the motel had provided, exhausted and sore from the hunt but unable to strongarm his brain and body to give in to sleep. He was no stranger to insomnia, especially so soon after the end of a grueling hunt. Adrenaline always seemed to stick to him, slow to dissipate. He could still feel his heart beating against his chest.
With a defeated sigh, he turned over. Castiel made a dark outline against the motel window, watching the parking lot. Dean turned his gaze to the ceiling, trying to get his body to realize that he didn’t need to be on high alert. Contemplating the strange stain shapes until he could feel his heartbeat finally slowing down.
Dean could feel it the moment it happened. Cas staring at him. He let out an annoyed huff, feeling the gaze disappear only to reappear almost immediately.
The angel had a heavy stare. Sometimes it was uncomfortable, how it seemed to stare into his very being, bare his every shameful thought. But sometimes, like now, it... christ. It made him feel safe. Not that he would ever admit it to anyone. Hell, the only reason he is letting the thought flow free in his mind now is from pure exhaustion driven delirium. But fuck it if he didn’t feel his body slowly but surly give up the fight, muscles relaxing that he didn’t even notice was tense, as it was giving in to the feeling of safety.
A watchful gaze, heavy and warm like the best comforter after a cold and dreary day. Like when you were a kid, thinking your blanket could save you from the dangers of the world. That sort of thing. A hundred times better than the motel’s blankets. Dean’s breath deepened, the gaze held steady, and with a final deep exhale, comfort and safety paved the way for sleep to conquer.