The sun streaming through the windows is what wakes Dean. For a second, he doesn't know where he is, and he reaches under the warm pillow for a knife that isn't there. Instead, he finds a cool, pliant hand; he remembers where he is.
His bedmate slumbers on peacefully, so still that Dean has to make sure that his chest is still rising and falling. Castiel is young in sleep; lines temporarily wiped away. Dean smiles fondly at the fallen angel-turned-human. A soft snuffle escapes the sleeper and he slowly opens his eyes. Brilliant blue meets forest green.
"Morning," Dean croaks; his voice hoarse from lack of use.
Cas smiles sleepily and pulls Dean in for a soft, sweet kiss; morning breath and all. They seperate after a few long minutes with matching dopey grins. With a sigh, Dean rolls over onto his back. He wraps his arm around Cas and pulls him close. The raven head rests on Dean's bare chest.
Under the heavy covers, their legs are entangled. Cas presses his ear against the smooth expanse of bare skin and listens intently for the reassuring -thud, thud- of Dean's heart. They lie together in silence, warm sunlight bathing them in a golden light.
Dean runs his fingers through Cas' hair, attempting the tame the spectacular bedhead, but failing miserably; in fact, he makes it worse, if that's possible. Closing his eyes at the pleasant sensation, Castiel struggles to stay awake.
"Go back to sleep," Dean murmurs as Cas' breathing slows down rhythmically.
They have plenty of time to be lazy.