AN: Inspired by a post on tumblr. Just something quick I wanted to expand upon-while procrastinating on my research paper. I don't get enough Destiel cuddling and sweet moments when they're not dying and bleeding out (not that that's a bad thing ;)), so yeah. Enjoy :)
Dean set the handgun on the table, finished cleaning it. He surveyed the table before him, mentally taking inventory of the stripped weapons. The trio had returned from their last hunt that morning, and just in time before yet another cold front blew in. Dean pulled his jacket closer around him and made his way back into the nucleus of the bunker, thankful that for once, they had a permanent shelter for the winter. Carried on the December winds, the cold had infiltrated the countryside, more brutal than the usual winter weather.
Dean passed a table on his way in, bold knights standing off against bishops in an unfinished game of chess. A smile played across his face as he determined to make Cas finish the game later. Maybe (unlikely) he would beat Cas this time.
"Sam!" Dean rounded the corner, approaching his brother. Sam was bent over a book, laptop open beside him.
"Oh, hey. Finished with the gear?"
"Yeah, finally. Tell me something," Dean rubbed his hands together in an effort to warm them up. "You figured out how to fix the heater?"
Sam's sigh told him all he wanted to know. "Really?"
Sam shrugged. "I've been trying to find something that says how to reset it."
"And?" Dean prompted. Sam shrugged, shutting the book.
"And nothing, I can't find jack-squat."
Dean sighed, making his way across the room to the coffee pot. The heater had been out since they'd gotten back from their hunt, leaving the bunker in an icy state. Dean had tried to work on it for a few hours, succeeding only in losing the remainder of his patience and breaking the thermometer further. Sam had taken over, sending Dean to unpack their weapons. Cas had stuck around for a while, eventually disappearing to take a shower. Come to think of it, Dean hadn't seen him since that morning.
"Where'd Cas go?" Dean asked. Sam looked up from his laptop, a humored smile flitting across his face.
"Mmm, check your room."
"My..hmm." Dean made his way down the hall toward his room, sipping the hot coffee. It wasn't unusual for Cas to be in Dean's room-they shared basically everything lately, and sometimes it would be Dean in Cas' room, and other times it would be the other way around. They'd given up sorting each other's clothes, and Dean constantly woke to Cas making coffee with a pair of Dean's sweats hanging loosely around his narrow hips, collarbone peeking out from underneath one of Dean's dark shirts, too big for him. He wasn't sure exactly how or when it happened, but their two lives had intertwined into one.
When Dean reached his door, he eased the door open gently and leaned into his room, hoping that if Cas was laying down, he wouldn't wake him. He squinted at the bed, unsure at first if Cas was in there somewhere, buried beneath the mountainous heap of blankets and comforters. A barely visible, dark tuft of hair confirmed it, however.
"Dean?" Castiel raised his head slightly, bright eyes shining up at Dean, teeth clacking together slightly as he visibly shivered.
"You sick?" Dean set his coffee on the desk, pressing his hand to Cas' forehead. No fever.
"I don't know, no? Maybe. I'm not sure. Dean," Cas grabbed Dean's wrist, stilling him. "Is it supposed to be this cold? I was not aware humans felt the weather to this extent in the winter," he frowned and held Dean's hand against his face, relishing in the warmth for a moment.
Dean frowned. He had thought some about this sort of thing, back when his angel first fell. He vividly remembered the first time Cas had burnt his hand on the stove, the first time he had taken a shower (definitely a good memory, Dean thought) and the first time he'd stitched Cas up-one of the more painful memories. He hadn't thought about the cold, though; he hadn't thought about the weather and different climates being quite familiar to hunters, but not to a fallen angel.
"Here, come on."
"What? No, Dean-" Cas scrambled to burrow further under the covers, going against Dean's motion to pull the covers off him. Dean put a hand on Cas' shoulder, gently pushing him back and pulling the covers from his body.
"Damn, Cas, how many blankets do you have?"
"I thought the ones from my room would be satisfactory when added to yours, plus one from Sam's room. Obviously not," Cas mumbled, curling into himself. Dean felt sorry for him, wished he could do more for him. He'd just have to do the best he knew to do.
"Take off your clothes," Dean instructed, tossing aside his top button down and pulling his own tee-shirt up and over his head. Starting on the button on his pants, he glanced up to see Cas looking at him, wearing an exasperated expression.
"Sex is probably not the most efficient way to warm myself," Cas said, frowning. "Not that it wouldn't get the blood going, but-"
"Cas," Dean laughed, kicking his pants to the side and pulling off his socks, "We're not fucking right now. I'm going to get you warmed up." Finished removing his own clothes, Dean leant against the edge of the bed, helping Cas pull the hoodie over his head. Dean could see Cas was still skeptical, but that didn't stop him from helping Cas out of his pajama pants.
With that done, Dean slid between the covers, pulling the shaking body close to him. He twitched his nose as Cas' dark hair brushed it softly, tickling and teasingly. Wrapping the arm under them around Cas' shoulder, he pulled the covers up further and traced the freckles on his angel's shoulder. After a few moments, Dean felt the shivering slowing and the breath against his neck came more regular, gentle, familiar.
"Shhh, it's okay. Sam'll get the heater fixed." Dean ran his fingers along the outline of Cas' ribs, talking in hushed tones. He'd never admit being a cuddling man, but he could do this all day-just the two of them, together. "Hey, angel. I'm not going anywhere." Peppering the dark mop of hair with gentle kisses, Dean kept talking to him quietly, reassuringly.
Dean nuzzled his nose into Cas' thick locks, and when he heard the gentle snoring coming from the body beside him, allowed himself to close his eyes. That was how they fell asleep, body heat warming the bed and each other, limbs tangled together in such a mess that Dean couldn't have figured out where one body started and the other started, so close and fit together were they- like a puzzle piece cut a little snuggly, but just rightly so.
When Dean woke, it was to the sound of clicking and a muffled curse. Blinking heavy lids open slowly, he could just make out his brother on the other side of the dark room, tinkering with the thermometer on the wall. There was another loud click, then a snap like something breaking.
"Sammy?"
"Sorry," Sam said, turning only briefly to make eye contact and frown. "Didn't mean to wake you up."
"What're you doing?" Dean asked, lowering his voice as Cas stirred briefly against his chest.
"Hard reset. I tried on the main system, but since…we broke it, it wouldn't work. I think I've just about got this wired to think it's the main control panel, and then hopefully…" Sam trailed off, concentrating on the wires in hand. Dean shook his head, and after a while gave up on watching, drifting back to sleep. When he woke the second time, Sam was gone- but his presence had been replaced by the lovely sound of a gentle hum of the working heater.
"Cas? The heater's working," Dean said, feeling Cas move and brush his fingertips up Dean's spine, sending fingers of warmth up and down his torso.
"Is it? I don't think Sam's fixed it," Cas said sleepily. Dean glanced down at him, eyebrows raised.
"I can hear it, babe. Definitely fixed. That's good news," Dean said. Cas wriggled up, turning to face Dean. A smirk played across his face and he licked his lip.
"I'm not so sure about that, Dean."
Dean was about to make a smart retort, and then it clicked. "Oh." A slow grin spread across his face. "So… it's still cold, isn't it?"
"If I say it is again, will you stay?" Cas asked, turning a questioning look to Dean, provoking a laugh.
"Possibly," Dean teased. Cas smiled triumphantly, burrowing beneath the covers and draping an arm over Dean's torso, running long fingers up his spine, sending fingers of warmth up and down Dean's torso, settling low in his stomach. He yawned, strangely similar to a kitten's yawn, and Dean smiled at the thought. Cas pressed a kiss to Dean's shoulder and settled his head against it, closing his eyes.
"Then yes, Dean. It's absolutely freezing."
Finis