Author's Note! So, I know. This is just friggin' weird. I'm sorry. I'm not sure how I got the idea. I would say I was stoned, but I am not a druggie. This is awkward. Anyway, I do NOT own Supernatural-it belongs purely to the creators and the CW. If I DID own it, Destiel would be canon and this would be an episode because YES. Might continue it, might not. Review and let me know! *NOT SMUT. There's a lot of kissing, but this isn't a smut fic*

"Mmf," I groan, opening my eyes and rubbing them. It's pitch black in my room and quiet as always. A quick glance at my bedside clock informs me of the time—three a.m. I sit up, my soft comforter sliding off of my chest, and look around. What could have woken me up? Then I see him and jump so bad I hit my head on the backboard of my bed.

"Jesus Christ," I moan, staring up at the angel.

"No, sorry."

I roll my eyes at Castiel's sincerity. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"Well, I…no reason. I'll just go." He looks down and I sigh.

"No, no, you can stay. Sit down," I say, patting the bed next to me. Cas obliges and I immediately tuck my legs up, my knees pressing gently into the small of his back. Cas slumps against my legs and I wrap my arms around his midriff, smiling. He used to just sit, his back straight as a ruler, but over time Cas has gotten used to me.

"So what's up?" I ask, removing my arms and pulling my blanket back across my chest.

Cas shrugs. "Nothing, really," he says, his voice gravely.

"Come on…" I say, tugging at his trenchcoat, the material soft beneath my fingers. "You woke me up. Tell me."

Cas smiles, tugging one side of his mouth up. "I'm serious."

"So why are you here?" I ask, grinning, my tongue between my teeth. Cas glances at me, looking slightly confused.

"Because I felt you might want to talk."

"Oh, yeah, right," I mutter. Cas arches one eyebrow but doesn't get the chance to say anything because I grab him by the trenchcoat and kiss him, hard.

Cas doesn't pull away like he usually does and I pull him down to me. His hands move around to my back and he returns the kiss almost feverishly.

"Not so junkless now, are you?" I breathe, one hand pressing into the small of his back, the other tangled in his soft brown hair. Cas responds by pulling me up to meet him, my chest pressed to his.

I hear him murmur something that sounds like 'shut up', but I pull him closer so he can't finish the sentence.

Then, abruptly, I am lying down again and he is sitting up, and we are both panting, trying to regain our breath. I whistle.

"What?"

"Nothing. It's just that…you don't usually do that," I saying, my fingers idly fiddling with his trenchcoat. Cas usually finds this odd, but tonight he looks at my hands, curiosity playing around his face.

"I'm sorry."

"Oh, I'm not complaining. Believe me. It's definitely not a bad thing," I say, laughing. Cas smiles again, looking shy.

I lift up the covers and gesture for him to lie down.

"I—don't sleep," he says, "at least, I don't like to. It seems a waste of time to me."

"I wasn't asking, Cas," I say. "I want to cuddle."

"Cuddle…?" he asks, looking confused. I laugh and tell him to get under the covers.

"Relax, Cas. It's nothing obscene. I just want to talk to you and, y'know, kiss a bit."

Cas reluctantly climbs into bed with me fully clothed, his coat brushing my bare legs. I curl up next to him, my head on his heart. Or rather, his vessel's heart. I inhale, and the wonderful smells that accompany him swirl around me.

"Okay, now you're supposed to stroke my hair or something, I think," I mumble. I hear his soft laugh as he places his hands lightly in my hair. I breathe out deeply, fingers playing with his tie.

"So, how're Dean and the moose?" I murmur.

"Good. Well, they were good earlier today. I don't know right now," Cas says softly. I nod.

"And Bobby?" I ask, stretching my arms up to play with his short hair.

I feel him shrug. "He should be fine, otherwise Dean would have called me. I haven't seen him in about a week, though."

"Oh, okay. Well, that's enough 'bonding' for now," I say, grinning. I lean up and kiss Cas softly, without the feverish intensity of earlier.

"Mm," I say when I've laid my head back down. "That was pleasant. You're a good kisser, Cas. You deserve an award."

"Thank you."

I lie there for a few moments, my fingers laced through his, just thinking. The thing about Cas and I is that we're not 'lovers'. Usually what happens is we talk and I kiss him for a second or two. Then he pulls away and is off. I like tonight, though. It's good to get away from routine.