Castiel was not used to the cold.

He transfered to this college in the North because of their great creative writing professors. After a month in, he heard about a week-long mountain trip. His teachers all stressed the importance of bonding with his new classmates, so he had taken the opportunity.

After all, he had never traveled to the mountains during winter and wouldn't it be a great source of inspiration for his novel, it being picturesque and all?

Now, he regretted everything.

He wasn't used to the cold, to this bite only extremely low temperatures could bring. Suddenly the concept of dying just because of hypothermia didn't feel so far-fetched. He racked his mind to remember what he had read about it. Lots of people talked about the need to sleep, the kind you never wake up from. All right, so he wasn't dying at least because he sure as hell couldn't sleep at all, he was just suffering.

He pictured sadly the main building, less than half-a-mile away, with the nice big heaters and even the fire in the main room. He had sat there earlier, soaking the heat like a cat under a sun ray.

He could have slept in there but there were only big dorms and Cas hated those. They brought back bad memories.

So he had jumped at the idea of sharing a room for two in one of the log cabins at the back. There were for the tourists but, as they were the only ones in the station and there weren't enough beds, well, here he was.

He didn't know the other student, except that his name was Dean and that he wore a big beanie with a pom pom, enormous sunglasses, and a thick, flashy coat. He also had a rocky voice that he didn't use much.

After a day spent on snowshoes, Castiel was so beat that, as soon as they had entered the room, he made a beeline to the bathroom, took a wonderful shower, changed in his too-thin pajamas and ran to the bed.

An hour later, there was a Noise. Dean got up, disappeared in the back, sworn a lot, then came back with the horrifying news. The electricity, including the whole heating system had stopped working.

At first, it didn't really make a difference, so Castiel slept a little more, but soon the air turned way too cold. So, he asked Dean shyly if they couldn't walk to the other building and maybe find couches here. He heard Dean grumble and get up, then a little ray of light reached the door.

But it wouldn't budge. Castiel joined Dean and helped push, catching a glance of a nicely muscled arm next to him.

When they stopped, panting, Dean walked to the window and opened the curtains, revealing the fun fact that they were indeed snowed in.

And of-freaking-course, there was just one extra blanket, of the kind that scratched, in the otherwise empty closet. Dean had let Castiel take it.

But even like that, it was freezing. Castiel had let go of the concept of sleeping or even resting. The only thing he was focusing on was not to let his teeth make too much noise. Dean did seem to be asleep and, given how nice he had been, did deserve the quiet.

It made the torturous cold a little more bearable, knowing he was being noble too. At least for a few minutes.

When the shivers turned into muscular pain, he bit his lips not to cry out. A whimper still escaped, echoing against the wooden walls.

Thirty seconds later, he felt the covers ripped off from him. He waited, in a resigned kind of serenity for Dean to yell at him or even throw him out of the window.

He didn't expect his hand being pulled toward the other bed, nor being gently lay on it.

Then, the most wonderful warmth engulfed him. Dean had stacked both their linen and covers in top of them but they were nothing to the half-naked body next to him.

He barely registered the state of half-nakedness when there was a whisper:

"You should take off your clothes"

A very strong grip tightened Cas' gut region , leaving him breathless, but he still managed to say:

"Why?"

"Because we can exchange body heat that way. Trust me on this, I did it once with my brother when we were camping."

"And it wasn't weird?"

"No, cause it was better than freezing, you dork. Now please, take your shirt off."

Castiel obeyed, grateful that it was so dark. He hoped the flushing would help raise his temperature. It did and so did Dean's chest.

They fell asleep in seconds.

Castiel woke up in a fog, waiting for his blurred brain to focus. It was so hot. He instinctively held a hand to reach his heater but his arm fell from the bed. Apparently he wasn't in his apartment.

He tried moving his arm from his belly but didn't manage at all, so he started counting. Three. Four if you added the one pressed to his shoulder.

Oh.

Castiel blinked again and turned to the face that blew warm minty breath in his direction. Dean was already awake and smiling:

"Hey Cas!"

Dean was gorgeous. His eyes were soft and warm, his lips were full and inviting.

Castiel was struck by the vision but still not very conscious, which was why he answered.

"Good grief! You are hot in every sense of the word."