I don't ship Destiel, nor do I ship Wincest. Having stated this, I have no idea where this came from. This can be taken as Destiel or it can be taken as brotherly fluff because personally, I don't see anything wrong with brothers cuddling at times and Sam and Dean certainly did when they were kids. I see no reason why this can't be taken as a brotherly fic.

Only warnings are for Dean's potty mouth.

And for anyone who cares, I was voted Most Likely to Write a Bestseller for my school's senior superlatives.

It's pretty much my only high school accomplishment.

Anyway.

Here it is, fresh from the desk of a twelfth grade nothing.

REVISED AS OF 5/18/14

Summary: Cas is living at the bunker, Sam remembers growing up with Dean, Dean sleeps weird, and, eventually, Dean gets some much needed easy resting.

Kevin looked at Sam with one eyebrow raised.

"Does he always sleep like that?" he asked the taller man. Sam shrugged with a grin. The two looked back towards Dean, who was sprawled out with one arm and one leg hanging off the queen sized bed and the other arm under the pillow and the other leg pointing towards the far corner of the bed. Sam fondly remembered waking up next to Dean in crappy motel rooms, pushed to one side of the bed or the other by the elder Winchester brother and his habit of spreading himself out as he slept. After their dad started leaving them alone for longer stretches of time, he had found himself missing those quiet moments where Dean would submit to cuddling with his baby brother in the understanding that it would never be spoken of. He missed how, after being told that monsters were, in fact, real, Dean would softly sing Hey, Jude to him to get him to sleep. He missed falling asleep, knowing he'd be safe, because he could listen to Dean's heartbeat right next to him. It was comforting, at least, to know that, even though everything around them had been changing, his older brother's sleeping patterns hadn't changed. It was nice to know that some things didn't have to change.

"Yeah," he finally answered Kevin, "he's always slept like that."

Dean woke up when he felt the bed shift. That meant that someone was getting into bed with him. If it was Sam because he'd had a nightmare – although he hadn't come to Dean's bed for a nightmare for quite some time – he would gladly move over and comfort his little Sammy (because no matter how big he got, he would always be his little Sammy). As he turned over, however, he was also completely prepared to bitch at Kevin or Cas or anyone else who decided to come onto the bed. He turned onto his side to find himself staring into a pair of luminous blue eyes looking out from under a mop of black hair.

"Cas," Dean said, forcing patience into his voice. He was forcing himself to be civil even though it was three o'clock in the damn morning. "What are you doing here?"

"I was feeling an odd sensation," Cas said, speaking slowly. Dean noticed the dark circles and half lidded, sleepy look to his eyes.

"And what was this feeling?" Dean sighed.

"I don't know for sure, but I think it might be loneliness," Cas said softly.

"So you just decided to come in here," Dean stated.
"I can leave if you like," Cas suggested, moving to get up.
"Cas." Dean grabbed his arm. Cas stopped. "You can stay." Cas laid back down next to Dean. He shuddered as the air conditioning kicked on. Dean lifted up the blanket and patted the bed directly next to him.

"Come here before you catch a cold," Dean growled. Cas moved in close. His skin was as cold as ice.

"I thought you wanted me to stay out of your personal space. You always remind me that I am too close," Cas questioned.

"Yeah well, you're freezing cold and you can actually get sick now," Dean grumped. He pulled Cas close in a hug and rubbed warmth into the smaller man's frigid arms. Cas leaned his head against Dean's shoulder and breathed in his friend's familiar scent of Irish Spring and gunpowder. He felt Dean's breath ghost over his skin and he relaxed slightly as the heat pulsing from Dean's body warmed him up. The soft cotton of Dean's tee shirt smelled fresh and clean, and Cas found himself snuggling deeper into Dean's chest. Dean let out a startled sigh/laugh and wrapped his arms tighter around the fallen angel. Cas heard this sigh/laugh echo in Dean's chest and vibrate through his body.

The last thing Cas remembered before he fell asleep was Dean pushing his face into Cas' hair.

The last thing Dean remembered before falling asleep was the sound of Cas' gentle, slow breathing telling him that everything was going to be just fine.

When Sam woke up the next morning at around ten and didn't smell any coffee, he was a little worried. Dean was almost always up by nine and he only ever slept in when they had a hunt the night before or when he was sick. He tried not to panic as he hastened to Dean's room. He stopped in the doorway and had to clamp a hand over his mouth so as to not burst into laughter at what he saw. Dean, a soldier to the core who refrained from expressing the majority of his emotions (even though Sam was sure he had them), was curled protectively around Cas, who didn't seem to mind having someone to chase away the bad dreams that Sam knew he had been having lately. Sam saw that Dean's arms were wrapped around Cas, pulling him close, and his face was buried in Cas' hair.

Seeing this unhindered display of affection from his stoic older brother prompted Sam to do what every other good little brother would do to an older sibling.

He took a bunch of pictures, closed the door, and headed to the kitchen to start the coffee and breakfast.

FIN

Anyway, as I said earlier, this can be taken as either a Destiel fic or a brotherly love fic. I'm still not sure how I came up with this because I NEVER come up with things like this. Ah well. Those damn plot bunnies bite sometimes. Anyway, if anyone cares to read this, just know that I wrote it on Tuesday and was panicking the entire day because of a debate in my AP US History class and I don't do well with talking in front of people. I seriously can't talk in front of people and I felt like I was going to throw up or break into tears and it wasn't fun and thank God to my dear friends who hugged me and promised that everything was going to be okay. I wrote this though because I needed an escape that morning or I seriously would have thrown up. I'm getting teary just remembering that awful day. God.

I'm gonna go now because I'm sure you're tired of my rambling.

I'll be back soon; I have more one-shots to type.

See you later, dudes!

-Aidith Foray