A/N: Un-betaed. Don't hate.
Only the plot is mine. The rest belong to Kripke and co.
Sam had taken of on his usual morning run not ten minutes ago, leaving Dean alone in the motel room. The older hunter was still in bed, hoping for more sleep and that his younger brother would bring back coffee. And pie, if Dean was lucky.
He rarely was, though.
As Dean stretched and turned in bed, hoping to fall back to sleep, his imagination kicked in. Dean had long ago stopped fighting it and just let the fantasies run their course, hoping to get them out of his system. As long as they didn't disturb his work, he didn't mind.
He recognized them as normal, or as normal as anything can be for a Winchester, sexual fantasies. Beside, they weren't even hard core. More like, soft porn if anything. Probably not even enough to be R rated, which, if Dean had to be completely hones, was a bit of a disappointment, but still. They were about him and Cass and that had been enough to freak Dean out at first. Then he started to think about it and well, now he just kinda accepted them.
Beside, they made him feel good, and not much did these days.
So he closed his eyes and pulled the comforter closer to his face and he sank into the pillow.
Imagining Cass' hand in his as they walked down the sidewalks in a dusty sleepy little town, was enough to spread a warm, relaxing feeling in Deans chest. To see Cass turn his head and look at Dean, in the eye of his mind, made Dean smile. And when fantasy-Cass smiled at him and gave his hand a gentle squeeze, Dean sighed in to his pillow. Dean imagined them turning down a street and walk out of town, following a dusty road, with large fields at either side of them. None of them would say anything and Dean would smirk as Cass would stretch his right hand out to a buzzing bee and let it settle on his hand, only to leave them again soon after Cass had looked closely at it and showing it to Dean who would smile and shake his head. Cass would smile at the insect and let it fly again.
Suddenly, they would be on a meadow, under a tree. Dean would sit with his back to the tree, Cass between his legs, half laying lazy up against Deans chest. Castiel would have gotten out of his brown coat and jacket and he would sigh contend when Dean draped his arm across his chest, kissing his hand lightly.
Just before Dean would fall asleep in his motel bed, Cass would intertwine their fingers and say:
"I think I like this one the best."
And Deans eyes would snap open again, not sure if he really had fallen asleep or not.