Castiel opened his eyes, he looked around at his surroundings trying to place where he was. His mind settled as he realised he was in the bunker, and for now at least, he was safe. He glanced over at the clock on his dresser, a slight crease formed in his brow, 4:02am. He rubbed at his eyes, his throat was dry and scratchy. No doubt he'd slept with his mouth wide open again. He looked past the clock at the glass, it hadn't moved since yesterday morning. Empty, he frowned again, cursing silently, why hadn't he filled it up before going to bed? Since becoming human, Castiel always had water with him, because he hated the uncomfortable feeling of thirst, and the inevitable dry throat that came with it.
Reluctantly, Castiel pushed back his covers and swung his legs over the side of his bed, his bare feet touching the hardwood floor sending shivers up his spine, accompanied by the goose bumps on his bare arms and chest from the cold morning air. He immediately wanted to climb back under his covers and wrap up into a little cocoon of warmth again, but the scratchy feeling he got every time he breathed was reason enough to warrant him getting up and out of bed. He rubbed his hands against his arms as he snuck out of his room, it was pitch black, apart from an orange glow coming from the library, Castiel made a mental note to investigate after he'd cured his thirst, considering that Dean and Sam should've been sleeping.
As he was still half asleep, he got halfway to the kitchen and remembered that he'd left his glass on his dresser, he couldn't be bothered to go back for it now so he mentally thumped his head and cursed himself before he continued to the kitchen, wrapping his hand around the handle of the fridge he braced himself for the rush of cool air as he opened the door, he grabbed a bottle of water and shut the door, grateful that the cold had subsided. Why hadn't he let Dean buy him some pyjamas? At least then he wouldn't be stood in the middle of the kitchen, freezing cold, wearing nothing but a pair of boxers.
He left the kitchen, heading towards the faint orange glow of the library, his bottle of water in hand. He stood in the doorway, one hand on the light switch, about to flick it off, the other wrapped around the cool bottle of water, which was rapidly covering in condensation. He paused, his eyes locking onto the dark haired, unshaven young man, laying on the sofa across the room with his head buried in an old book. Dean.
Castiel couldn't take his eyes off of Dean, a crease had developed on his forehead as he was concentrating. He stared for a little longer until the silence was broken by Dean, who, without looking up, asked 'Gonna stare all night Cas?' the corner of his mouth lifted slightly as he said Castiel's name. Now he looked up, closing his book, his finger lodged between the pages to mark the spot he'd got to as he gestured for Castiel to join him. 'Trouble sleeping?' he asked as Castiel perched opposite him on the edge of the coffee table, putting his bottle of water, now covered in water droplets from the condensation that had formed, down next to him.
Castiel swallowed, his throat now twice as dry, and twice as scratchy, which made talking remarkably difficult. He gestured towards the bottle of water next to him and forced out the word 'Thirsty', his voice sounding harsh and coarse from his throat. Dean looked at the bottle before leaning forward and picking it up, causing a few drops of condensation to fall from the side of the bottle to the table, and one to run across Dean's finger. Castiel watched as the droplet ran down the length of his finger before it settled in the crease of his knuckle. 'Hmm' Dean let out a sigh as his leant forward again, holding the bottle out for Castiel to take. As he did so, their fingers brushed slightly causing Castiel to blush a little, he tried hiding it as he looked down at the bottle, twisting the lid. He lifted the bottle to his lips and closed his eyes as he tilted his head back and took one long gulp of water, a small moan escaped his lips as the water caressed his throat. Dean watched, a small smiling teasing the corners of his mouth as Castiel drank.
In his desperation to cure the discomfort in his throat, Castiel tipped his head back further, a small stream of water escaped the ran from his pursed lips, down his dimpled chin. Dean watched, following the movement of the water droplet as it fell from Castiel's chin and landed on his chest. Dean glanced back up, to see Castiel's Adam's Apple bob up and down as he swallowed, before looking back at the water droplet that was snaking its way down Castiel's chest, into the groves of the well defined muscle, and then, as it flowed smoothly over Castiel's stomach muscles and disappeared into the waste band of Castiel's boxers. Dean followed the trail of water back up Castiel's body, hesitating at the wet sheen on his lips. A small smirk pulled at the corner of his mouth as Dean realised Castiel was no longer drinking, he lifted his eyes to meet Castiel's staring back at him. He studied Castiel's bright blue eyes, noticing for the first time, the silver flecks in them, as he silently cursed himself for letting himself be talked out of buying some actual pyjamas for Castiel to wear to bed, he should've known that it was going to be a huge mistake.
Castiel placed the now empty bottle back on the coffee table, his fingers dragging slightly on the wood as he stood, smiling at Dean. He turned and walked away, stopping at the doorway he rested his hand on the doorframe and glanced back over his shoulder at Dean, whose eyes hadn't left him since he'd started drinking, 'Goodnight Dean' he said, before he turned and carried on out of the library and back to his room, his heart doing somersaults in his chest and a huge grin spread across his face. He was halfway down the corridor when he heard Dean clear his throat and call 'Night Cas' quietly after him. Dean dropped his book on the side and picked up the bottle, staring at it, he is not jealous of a water bottle, he told himself, he is not jealous of a goddamned piece of plastic, even if it did have Castiel's lips on it, and drew sounds from him that Dean had never heard before but knew that he wanted to hear again. No, Dean was in no way jealous of a plastic bottle. He crushed it in his hand and threw it back on the table, before standing and following Castiel out of the library, flicking the light off on his way. 'Well, maybe I am, but only a little bit' he whispered to himself as he walked towards Castiel's room.