As a human, Castiel had developed the habit of sitting on the floor.
He didn't particularly care for chairs, claiming that he had more room if he was to sit on the floor. More freedom.
Whenever the two Winchester brothers and the fallen angel would gather in a room in the bunker - be it the library, or the living area, or the War room - Castiel would place himself on the floor, usually somewhere near Dean's feet. He also made habit of leaning against the elder Winchester's legs, when he began to get tired.
Obviously, he didn't sit on the floor during meal times, and if sitting on the floor made things awkward to proceed - for example; if the three were to gather around one thing - the fallen angel would sit at a table. He didn't mind, he just wasn't as comfortable.
One evening, Dean, Sam and Cas were gathered around the television, Cas on the floor, between Dean's feet, while the blond was sat on the sofa, Sam on one of the armchairs in the room.
Empty beer bottles were scattered around them, the three having passed the point of sober a long time before. Tipsy was far gone too.
They were on what was probably their fourth movie of the night, when Dean felt Castiel's head drop onto his thigh.
This wasn't new, but normally he could jolt his leg slightly, and the man would jump, moving his head. No such luck, this time.
After some more jolting, and prodding, and calling his name, it was obvious that Cas was not waking up any time soon.
"S'pose I'll have to carry him to his room." Dean moaned, though he wasn't too upset.
"I'm gonna go to bed now too, actually." Sam yawned widely, then clambered up out of the chair. "Cas had the right idea, falling asleep. He doesn't have to walk to his own room now."
"Yes, he's such an evil mastermind." the blond chuckled, leaning over to pick the sleeping man up.
After some ungraceful motions, Dean held the fallen angel in his arms, bridal style.
He carried the blue-eyed man back to his room - right next to his own - and clumsily managed to open the door.
He unceremoniously dropped Cas onto his bed, and collapsed in the chair placed in the corner of the room. He was exhausted, and needed a quick break before leaving to his own room.
Unfortunately, the blond was so tired, he fell asleep in the chair. His neck, back, and the rest of his body, was aching when he woke.
When he finally opened his eyes, he was met with a pair of sparkling blue orbs.
"Morning." Cas chirped - he was such a morning person.
"Morning." Dean greeted back sleepily.
"Coffee?" The fallen angel asked, not waiting for a reply, before pulling the man up by his hand, and leading him to the kitchen, where a fresh cup of coffee was waiting for him.
Dean took the drink, and made his way into the living area, settling on the sofa.
Cas, as always, sat on the floor by his feet, and leaned against the blond's legs.
It was so relaxing.
When Sam came into the room, his own cup of coffee in his hands, he ignored the slight change, a pretending that it was totally normal. It sort of was, anyway.
They spent the rest of the morning like that, before they got a phone call about a possible case.
Inwardly, all three men groaned, perfectly content how they were, but they knew they had a job to do.
It's the price they had to pay for saving the world.