Dean liked coffee. Coffee was good. Coffee didn't make him angry or unreasonable, unlike someone.

Not pointing any fingers, but Cas. Cas was infuriating. He'd drunk the last of the coffee, leaving Dean tired and sad and totally not ready to go to work in 30 minutes.

Dean sat down and scrubbed his face with his hands.

"Ugh," he said, before standing up again, ignoring the intense vertigo from being over-tired and most likely terribly sick, and heading to the kitchen.

Maybe they had tea?

Cas was in the kitchen. Dean glared at him.

"Coffee stealer," he muttered, refusing to hug his husband.

Cas rolled his eyes. "You're being unreasonable. Someone had to finish it."

"Yeah," Dean agreed, "me."

Turning to deliver a sarcastic remark, Cas stopped when he saw Dean's haggard, exhausted posture. He raised a hand, cupping the man's jaw.

"You don't look well," he stated, placing said mug of stolen coffee on the counter. Dean snuck a look at it, wondering if he could take it.

"I have a small flu, so what? I miss another day of work, the Boss'll kill me."

Cas made a face. "He's your brother, can't he make an exception?"

Dean snorted. There was not much energy in the noise. "Sam and I aren't on the best of terms, Cas."

Cas was already leading his husband back to bed. Dean followed pliantly, his agreement to orders drilled into him from the Navy. He stumbled, and Cas caught him, sweeping him up bridal style.

Snuggling his face into the crook of Cas' neck, Dean supposed he could miss another day of work, just for Cas.