Castiel is warm. His first thought is warmth as he slowly approaches consciousness. He is laying sprawled on his back, on a motel bed that has seen more provocative things than a porn director. His right leg is laying on top of Dean's, arm extended onto the other man's chest. Dean is sleeping, breathing soundly through his mouth. Castiel doesn't remember him going to sleep until late. He remembers late into the night, almost the morning, a soft, safe sensation wrapping around him.
Cas grunts and shifts off Dean. He buries his head into Dean's side, between his arm pit and ribs. Cas continues to drive his head into Dean's bones. Dean grumbles.
"Deeean," Cas whines, his hoarse voice barely over a whisper. Dean grumbles and rolls onto the other side of the bed. Cas follows him, feeling cold without him so close.
"Deean," Cas whines again, pressing his head into his back. Dean groans as he slowly gets up. His bones creak and he feels slower than molasses, but Dean knows Cas is relentless.
When Cas hears the coffeemaker whirl to life, he smiles. After Dean sets Cas' favorite mug down ("The Devil Made Me Do it") and his own, he collapses next to Cas, content with continuing to sleep later. They have a case to work on, but Cas allows Dean to sleep in for a few more moments. He watches Dean's face and cannot help the hand that reaches out to stroke his face. Dean swats him away, but after a moment starts to enjoy Cas' soft touches as he plays with his hair. Cas takes it a step further and kisses his neck softly, then up to that killer jawline. Dean sighs as Cas lands feather light touches on Dean's face with his lips. Dean grabs Cas and pulls him closer, placing his head on his chest and entwining their legs.
Cas smiles into Dean's hair, enjoying the smell of coffee and the sound of his lover's breathing on his chest.