Title: Nights
Rating: Pg-13
Disclaimer: i don't own anything to do with spn blah blah and all that.
Spoilers: up to end of season 5 I guess.
Summary: Short drabble about Castiel comforting Dean when he's having nightmares.
They touch in the cover of darkness sometimes, drawing together and spinning apart by equal measures. Tentative. exploring. All quiet sighs and whispered "mine"s. The darkness makes them brave, able to say all the things stretched thin between them during the harshness of daylight. They rarely converse, speaking only through touches and sometimes, staccato whispers.
A kiss in the hollow space where his chest begins. A kiss on his nose, his eyelids, his lips. A bite when he pleads and a lap of his tongue to soothe the burn. But he wants the pain too. He wants it all. He wants so much. Anything to chase away the pain in his head.
For Castiel, night has always meant waiting. Sometimes patiently, sometimes with great annoyance. For a while, it had been more watching, memorizing. Dean's sighs and turns and flickers. The softening of his features when he's untroubled like this. But as he found out soon enough, for Dean it was a void, a helpless in-between where his nightmares could overpower him. Some nights, the softness in his features would suddenly be replaced by terror, his mouth opening in a silent "no" as he shook. It would go on like this until he would wake up with a scream, gasping for air. And he would sob, dry heart-wrenching sounds that would seep into Castiel's bones and break his heart. On and on they would ring until Dean fell asleep from exhaustion.
The third time it happened, he had been unable to stay hidden. He had appeared next to Dean's bed, reaching over and smoothing a hand over his overheated forehead. Dean had been startled, but not nearly enough, thinking perhaps that he was still asleep. He had looked at Castiel with something like relief in his eyes, whispering a hoarse "Cas". It was only his name, shortened out of fondness he had been told, but it held so much meaning in that moment. It was a beg, a prayer, a hope. And he gave it all, willingly, whispering a "I know" back before he sealed their mouths together in a kiss. Desperate, aching, sweet. So nights became escapes and more, they quietly became experiments in falling in love. So nights became so much for Castiel as he tried to slowly piece Dean Winchester back together in nameless motel rooms.