Author's Note: I like the idea of Castiel telling Dean a story.
Disclaimer: Supernatural does not belong to me, because if it did... my life would have some kind of meaning.
"But Cas..." Dean implores, stretching out on the bed on his side. At the foot of the bed, Castiel sat stiffly, his hands folded into his lap. He turned to glare at Dean, who only pouted and blinked his Big Green Eyes up at the angel.
"Please? I can't sleep. Tell me a story." Dean huffed, scooting further down the bed until his head was right next to Castiel's waist. He reached out and curled his fingers through the belt loop of Castiel's trench coat, tuggin gently to keep Castiel's attention on him.
Castiel sighed.
"If I tell you a story, will you stop aggravating me?"
In the other twin bed, Sam snorted. Dean ignored him, keeping his eyes on his favorite angel.
"Yup," Dean said, the "p" popping loudly through his lips. Castiel quirked an eyebrow.
"Very well," he intoned gravely. He took a breath. "Once upon a time," he started. "There was an Angel of the Lord. This angel had a Human charge who kept bugging the angel, and would not stop."
Dean tried to keep his lips from curving into a frown as Sam snickered again.
"The Angel of the Lord kept asking for his Human charge to stop, but he wouldn't. So, in an act of desperation and to end his misery, the Angel killed the Human. The end."
Silence reigned in the room.
Castiel looked back at Dean impassively.
"Think you can go to sleep now?"
As Sam guffawed loudly, Dean sniffed.
"Sure," he mumbled, finally laying down and closing his eyes, his fingers still looped through Castiel's trenchcoat.
He didn't have the heart to tell Castiel his stories sucked.
END.
NOTE: What's a little story telling between friends?