Author's Note I'm terribly sorry, but I have no idea what I was writing. Excuse the awkwardness? Also, very very short.
Prompt from brerediddy via Tumblr.
Dean awakes to light dancing on his face. He clears his throat, cursing obscenities with his harsh, waking voice. His legs are scrunched up into himself and he silently wonders if Sam was purposefully being a dick. But when Dean pushes himself up into a sitting position, he notices that Cas the one sitting on the couch.
"What the hell are you here for?" Dean accuses, rubbing his hand over his face.
"I had the urge to watch television," Castiel states mildly, staring blankly at the TV screen.
"Couldn't you wait 'til mourning?"
Dean didn't push him any further when Castiel didn't answer. He just swung his feet to seat himself more comfortably. With the new space, Castiel un-squishes himself from the corner of the couch and scoots over. Castiel still doesn't know the the personal space rule, Dean guesses, because he's shoulder to shoulder with him now.
Dean coughs, hoping Cas will get the memo. However, Cas takes the noise as some kind of cue, placing his hand on Dean's thigh. Dean's not sure what to do with that, so he just coughs again and looks around the room as a distraction. Despite the television's glaring light, most of the room was shrouded with shadows. Most of the surfaces were mere outlines, but he could tell something was oddly different about this.
Cas places his arm on the back of the couch, not even going for the "tired yawn" routine.
"What is this, our first date?" Dean jokes, but his voice is shaky.
While upon scanning the room, Dean notices the room seems slightly off. He can't quite pinpoint what, exactly, is different, but the outlined surfaces give it away.
"We're not in Rufus' cabin anymore, are we?" Dean questions carefully. Castiel nods slowly as a reply, his eyes still glued to the television's screen.
After a commercial brake flashes over the set, Cas' face softens, allowing his attention to flicker from the tv to Dean.
"We are in another parallel universe, much similar to the one playing on the television at this moment," Cas speaks, deadpan heavy in his voice. He slowly lifts his arm to point forward. Dean doesn't turn his head away from his angel friend, but his eyes sneak a glance.
"Well, why the hell-," The Winchester begins to threaten, but his voice is cut short by Castiel's shushing. His index finger is planted intently on his lips. His full attention is pulled forward again.
Dean hadn't realized what program was being shown earlier, but now he can make out the memories with the pictures. Dean, Sam, and Castiel are all standing in Bobby's house. They are speaking of the key Balthazar had shoved into their possession before sending them through the window.
"I can't believe they kept that horse crap," Dean breathes in disbelief, while he hears Cas chuckle a moment later. Oddly, Castiel's head is turned toward Dean, peering at him through the darkness. Dean ponders internally, wondering if Cas' eyes could see in the dark. He snaps out of his thoughts when he feels his palm warming on Castiel's thigh. At some point he must have placed it there, but he couldn't remember when.
Dean watches Castiel's lips curl into a smile, opening to say, "I enjoy watching television with you."
He's leaning toward Dean now, inching his face closer and closer. Dean doesn't flinch or back away. Instead, he leans forward, too, meeting the angel's lips. A shock bites his lips, but he presses in harder.
"Me, too, buddy," he murmurs into the other man's lips.