Summary: Dean cuddles Castiel when the angel feels the cold for the first time.
Snow sifted down from the clouds above, settling upon the ground in serried lines, and swirls of white.
Castiel looked up at the clouds, blinked against the flakes catching at his eyelashes, melting in the blasts of steamy breath clouding out from his mouth. He waited for Dean, wondered where the hunter had gotten to, why he'd even dragged him all the way outside when it was cold and snowing and uncomfortable.
He pulled his coat around his slim body, shivering beneath the hardly warming material, wondered how humans put up with the cold so easily. He'd never felt it so acutely before when he was .... Castiel sighed, and closed his eyes sadly.
"When I was fully an angel," he murmured to himself, felt sadness, almost pain of loss coil through him.
He shivered again, opened his eyes, saw Dean trek his way towards him, plowing through the snow with barely a sign of a struggle. Dean's leather jacket was glistening with damp, the shoulders covered in snowflakes, which peppered his hair, making him look older than he truly was. Castiel waited, eyes flickering over Dean's body, saw that the hunter had apparently come back empty handed.
Dean looked up, saw Castiel standing there, looking so fragile in the snow, cold, shivering, his skin snow blasted and reddened. His heart squeezed in sympathy - he'd forgotten that Castiel could now feel the cold, wouldn't even be used to it like he was. He hid the object he'd been looking for deeper in his pocket, went to the angel, tucked his coat tenderly around his body.
The hunter looked down at his own scarf, took it from around his own neck and draped it around Castiel's shoulders, tucking it around his lover's neck. He looked into Castiel's face, saw the angel's flicker of a grateful smile, before he reached out to rub Castiel's arms, rubbed his palms over Castiel's freezing hands, a look of concern trapped upon his face.
"I'm sorry, dude, I should have thought about the cold. I've finished now, we can go back, now," he said, gently, tenderness clear in the tone of his voice.
Castiel nodded, teeth chattering audibly in the otherwise quiet air, made Dean hide his smile. He reached for the angel, wrapped his arms around his lover's body, felt Castiel settle into his warmth gratefully, cold hands trailing around his waist. Dean rested his cheek against the top of Castiel's head, rubbed his hands over the angel's back, felt Castiel's shivers lessen, felt his cold hands become warmer once more. He smiled, kissed the top of the angel's head tenderly, lips lingering against dark hair as his eyes closed against the snow still falling from the skies above.
Castiel murmured something, words muffled against Dean's chest and the hunter didn't catch them. He leant away,, made Castiel look at him, before asking him what he'd said.
"What did you get? You said you wanted something, yet you seem to have come back empty handed," he said, dark blue eyes seeming larger in his now too pale face.
Dean grinned, before pulling the plant from his jacket pocket.
"I got you this," he said.
"What is it? It's a leaf," Castiel exclaimed, looking as though he wasn't sure whether to be insulted of confused.
"It's mistletoe, Cas. Don't tell me you don't have mistletoe in Heaven. Oh right, of course - you can't grow things on clouds, can you?" and Dean chuckled to himself.
"You brought me all the way out here, just to give me some mistletoe?" Castiel asked, reaching for the bunch of leaves, stared at the white berries closely.
"It's not the plant itself, it's what you do with it, Cas," Dean explained, patiently, reaching for the mistletoe once more.
He held it above their heads, watched as Castiel turned his face to look up at it, snowflakes settling once more against his cheeks. Dean cupped Castiel's chin in one warm hand, turned his face to his own, before he leant forward, pressed a kiss to Castiel's pliant mouth. The angel's lips were cold, wet, but his mouth was warm when Dean slid his tongue inside, felt Castiel's purr of approval coil through as he responded. Lips worked against lips as they kissed, mistletoe still held aloft over them.
Slowly, Dean lowered his arm, put the mistletoe back into his pocket, laced his fingers through Castiel's dark hair as he deepened the kiss. Finally, finally, the kiss ended, left both angel and hunter breathless, glowing with love. Steamy breath exploded from their mouths, hung heavy in the air between them, as the snow turned from a lazy drift into a heavier fall.
"Come on, Cas, lets you get you someplace warm. You'll be getting a cold. I don't want you shooting snot and feathers all over me when we're in bed," Dean chuckled, made Castiel smile at him in return.
"You didn't have to drag me all the way out here just to have a kiss, you know," Castiel observed, his smile broadening. "You could have just kissed me."
Dean laughed at that, amusement crinkling the corners of his eyes, as he settled one arm around the angel's waist in a one armed hug. His laugh turned into a smile, when Castiel returned the gesture, allowed himself to be led back to the Impala, to the warmth of a car heater, and eventually, the warmth of a motel room ....