When Castiel wakes up the morning of December 3rd, he is alone in the bed. He can hear Dean banging around in the kitchen, though, which means he's probably getting breakfast in bed. He turns to snuggled back into the pillow, fully prepared to go back to sleep until Dean returns. But then a ray of light stretches across his face and he realizes with a start that the curtains are open (oh god please let them have been closed last night).
He slips out of bed and pads across the carpet to the window, setting his knees on the window seat right beneath it.
Snow. There's snow. Covering the peeling blue paint of the outer window sill and resting delicately on the limbs of that big tree in the front yard. If he cranes his neck in just the right way, he can see the light dusting over the front steps.
Smiling to himself, Cas wraps a blanket around his shoulders like a cape and heads to the kitchen. Dean is ladling something from a pot on the stove into two superhero mugs, clad only in his plaid boxers. Cas is just about to ask what he's making when Dean spins around to face him, a mug in each hand.
"Good morning, angel. Nice bedhead." He nods at Cas' hair.
"It snowed." Cas says, in lieu of a hello.
A big, impossibly happy smile spreads across Dean's face. "I know."
When Cas leans in to kiss him, though, Dean makes a face and leans away. "Uh-uh-uh, Mr. Morning-Breath. Drink this – " He hands Cas the Iron Man mug, "And then we'll see about making out like horny teenagers."
"Mmm, I like that idea." Cas takes a whiff of the steaming liquid and raises an eyebrow. "Peppermint hot chocolate?"
Dean grins. "You bet your ass it is."
He nudges Cas' foot with his toe until he starts moving back to the bedroom. They settle on the window seat together, cuddling under Cas' blanket, just watching the snow fall.
Eventually the mugs are empty and Cas is gently tugging one out of Dean's hands so he can set them on the window ledge together. Batman and Iron Man, side by side. Dean is letting Cas kiss down the side of his neck, letting himself be led back to their fluffy, king-sized bed.
It's only after Dean has taken charge and flipped Cas onto his back that Cas realizes the curtains are still open. He sets a hand on Dean's arm and the other man stills, lips hovering just about Castiel's own.
"Dean." He says quietly. "The window."
He can feel the puff of breath on his lips as Dean whispers, "Let them see." And silences all other protests with his tongue.