Note: This is set between season eight and season nine. Watch out for spoilers.
"Dean?" asked a deep, gravelly voice he knew well. Dean was in that strange state between sleeping and waking, and the question startled him. He'd never admit it though.
"Cas?" Dean groaned, sitting up in bed, though all he really wanted to do was roll over and plug his ears for just five more minutes of sleep. The bed sheets fell off his bare chest and pooled around the waistband of his pajama bottoms, which hung low on his hips. Dean's bright green eyes glanced blearily toward his alarm clock, whose glowing numbers read 2am. "It's two in the freaking morning, couldn't it wait?" He asked as he felt around for the light switch next to the bed. After a moment, the lights flickered on. Dean squinted towards the other man, who was standing at the foot of his bed.
The fallen angel Castiel stared at him for a few awkward minutes, navy blue eyes squinted. "I…" he began, searching for words, "Am not used to sleeping. Being an incorporeal celestial being before now, sleep was unneeded."
It was two early in the morning for this cryptic crap. "What is that supposed to mean?" the hunter asked tiredly, his voice still rough from lack of sleep. He'd finally managed to get his sleeping schedule back to semi-normal, too…
"I have been having...nightmares…lately, and I am not sure how to deal with them." Cas admitted, looking like it hurt him physically to admit any weakness.
Dean blinked once. Then twice. "Nightmares?" he asked incredulously, scooting over a bit so the other man could sit next to him on the bed.
Cas slowly walked over, never breaking eye contact as he sat down in the place Dean provided for him. The former angel's legs were stretched out in front of him, perfectly parallel to one another. "Yes. My brothers and sisters all thought everything was my fault. They killed you." Castiel said, staring at his hands, his long fingers tangled in the bed sheets.
Dean couldn't think of what to say to that, so the two men sat in silence for a long time. The only sound in the whole room was the air travelling in and out of their lungs, a constant tide of oxygen. The hunter seemed to be suddenly hyperaware of every detail about Cas. His inky black hair was a chaotic mess, and the forever-present stubble on Castiel's face looked like it would be prickly to the touch. Not like he wanted to touch it, mind you. The former angel's dark blue eyes were looking away from him, thank goodness. Dean didn't think he could handle that unblinking, observant gaze right now, and he really didn't want to get into a staring contest right then.
"Well, I'm gonna go back to sleep, since you don't want to talk anymore…" the older Winchester brother yawned, barely managing to hold his eyes open.
Cas immediately got out of his bed, and Dean slid back down until the back of his head hit the soft pillow. "Night, Cas." he murmured, already starting to drift off. Dean was unable to fully fall asleep, though, as he still felt the former angel's presence in the room. Turning over, he stared at Cas sleepily. "What're you still doing here?" he asked, the hunter's words slurred and unfocussed, like his tongue was being slower than his mind.
"I…do not think I will be able to rest in my own bed." Castiel answered, his shoulders hunched awkwardly.
Dean stared at him for a moment, before closing his eyes once more. "Find another bed to sleep in, or sleep on the damn couch." He grumbled, pulling the sheets over his eyes. At this rate, Dean wasn't going to be able to get much more sleep. An emergency was probably going to crop up at one point or another, and he supposed it would be a good idea to get as much sleep as he could now. Besides, he liked his memory foam bed. It remembered him.
However much he wished Cas would just leave so he could get some more shut-eye, it was not meant to be. Dean could still sense him in the room. His hunter instincts wouldn't let Dean go to sleep if anyone was hanging over him like that; it was just the way he had been taught. Rule #42: Never let down your guard.
Finally, Dean opened his eyes and sighed. "Do you…want to sleep in my bed tonight?" he asked uncomfortably. The only person he'd ever offered that to (in a non-sexual way) was Sammy, and that was once when he was a little kid. Once.
"I believe that would stop me from having more nightmares, yes." Cas stated with a small nod. With another sigh, Dean shuffled over, leaving enough room for the angel to climb in. Castiel proceeded to get under the covers awkwardly, nearly elbowing Dean in the face in the process. Finally, he settled in, and Dean turned off the light. The hunter flipped over so that his back was facing Cas.
Dean was about to go to sleep when he heard something coming from the general direction of the fallen angel.
"Cas…are you humming?" he asked incredulously, looking over his shoulder in shock. In the near-total darkness of his room, Dean could just barely see Castiel's silhouette.
"Yes."
"You're humming Enter Sandman by Metallica, though…how do you even know that song?"
"You play it all the time while we're driving."
"…Oh. Well, can you stop? I'm trying to sleep, here."
"I apologize."
And with that short conversation, both the fallen angel and the hunter fell asleep.
And if Dean woke up the next morning, and they had somehow shifted closer to each other during the night, well, he wouldn't say anything, right?
Especially if their arms were wrapped around each other and Dean's head somehow ended up resting on Cas' shoulder.
Nope, he would never speak a word of it.
Tell me what you think of it! I've never written romance, nor have I ever written a slash pairing, so please review with your critique! I need to know what I did right and what I should improve on.