They weren't exactly sure when the Men of Letters' bunker was built, its renovations made it harder to notice a particular style of architecture. But one thing was certain about it; it had been built before people had come up with ways to properly vent the building. During the summers, it could get obscenely hot within the stony walls. But that was easy to fix. Again, thanks to the renovations, the boys were able to plug in fans and get the air moving to keep the place cooled down. It was the winter that was a challenge. Because just as the building had trouble keeping itself ventilated, it also had an extremely hard time keeping warm, or circulating what warmth the boys could fire up.

There were a few fire places scattered through the bunker. However, the chimneys had collapsed on two and another's was so loaded with soot and creosote it was too dangerous too light until it was cleaned. That left them with one usable fire place, which was also the largest, thankfully. But that didn't help because, again, the bunker had poor air circulation. They could get the fireplace blazing hot as hell (and they would know) and turn the hall into an inferno, but the heat would never reach as far as they needed it to; their rooms at the very least. They'd tried setting up fans to move the hot air throughout the bunker, and it did help, but not enough. Their rooms were still freezing cold. Then they had tried just sleeping the same hall as the fireplace. But because they got the fire so hot, it made the room unbearable. Even when they threw less wood on the fire, the tile floor and stone walls still soaked up too much heat.

They tried to man up and take the cold head on as they slept, but that only lasted for so long. Once the dead of December hit, they resorted to sharing a bed as they had done when they were children. More specifically, on the nights that they stayed in especially cheap motels with broken heaters. Neither of them said anything about it. They just wrapped in their own light blankets, beneath a sheet and another heavier blanket. Because it did get that cold in their rooms.

On this night, after a long and unsuccessful hunt through nearly a foot of snow with no more clothing than they usually wore, they each took a hot shower and crawled under the blankets. They were nearly asleep when the all too familiar single beat of wings was heard.

"Dean, I have found where the wendigo is—"

"Not now, Cas," Dean groaned through his pillow.

Sam grunted in agreeance.

"You told me to tell you when I found where it had gone."

"Yeah, well, I didn't expect you to find it so fast," Dean grumbled.

Sam grunted again.

"If we go now—"

"Cas," Dean interrupted, propping himself up on his elbows, "We just got back from a two and half hour drive, freezing the whole way home because we spent the whole freakin' day walking through the snow. We're a little cold and tired right now."

Another grunt from Sam.

"Perhaps if you had been more properly clothed, that would not have been an issue," Castiel retorted.

"Perhaps you should poof off to your little birdy nest or wherever," Dean snapped, dropping his face back into the pillow and adding, "Or shut up, get under the blankets and go to sleep."

Again, Sam grunted. But now it was obvious it wasn't in agreeance. It was just a lazy way of saying 'shut up, I'm trying to sleep'.

For a minute, Cas considered the first choice. By no means did he ever go to a 'birdy nest', but he'd been around the Winchesters long enough to start figuring out when Dean was being literal and when he was not. But at the same time, he was curious what it was like to sleep. From what little remained of Jimmy's memories, sleeping felt nice. It was relaxing. It was feeling safe.

Castiel took a hesitant step forward, waiting, almost expecting, for the elder Winchester to retract the offer. When he didn't, Castiel pulled back the two blankets not tangled around one of the bodies. He laid down stiffly beside Dean before pulling the blankets back up. A minute of silence passed.

"Dude, are you still in all your clothes?" Dean asked, "…and your shoes?"

"Yes," Cas replied shortly.

"You don't sleep fully dressed…" Dean yawned.

Dean turned over and scooted Cas towards the edge of the bed, signaling for him to get up and remove a few layers. Castiel referenced Jimmy's memories again to decide how much was appropriate to take off. He ended up stripping down to his undershirt and boxers. As he was doing so, Dean was making a half assed attempt to untangle his blanket and straighten it out for Cas to crawl under this time. There were no ulterior motives there, at least he told himself that, it was just that the sheet blanket and heavy blanket were a little scratchy and uncomfortable.

Castiel pulled back the three blankets, earning a slight wince from Dean as the cold air hit him, and took his previous spot next to the hunter before pulling the blankets over them again. Dean settled on his side to make a little more room for the angel, who couldn't seem to find a comfortable position to lay in. After a few minutes, Castiel eventually became comfortable with laying on his side as well, his back to Dean, and slightly curled in on himself.

Cas didn't need sleep and found it hard to lull himself into it. So he listened to the even breathing of the Winchester brothers, fast asleep once again, and just let his mind wander. He enjoyed Dean's closeness and the warmth that rolled off him. He wasn't quite asleep when Dean shifted, though he was sure he was almost asleep. Cas felt Dean's leg sweep closer to him until Dean's foot brushed against Castiel's. Then Dean suddenly flailed and bolted awake.

"Jesus Christ, Cas!" Dean yelped.

Castiel turned over halfway to look at him curiously.

"God, Dean, what?" Sam growled.

"You're feet are fuckin' freezing cold," Dean breathed, more at Cas than Sam.

Dean dropped back down his back with a sigh. Sam sleepily glared at him over his shoulder before settling back down.

"Apologies," Cas murmured, "Perhaps I should—"

"Don't," Dean replied, "Just…tuck your foot against the back of your knee or something, you'll warm up."

Dean rolled onto his side, moving closer to Sam and his back to Cas. Cas laid there for a minute, pondering what Dean had said. He hadn't realized his feet were so cold; he decided to follow Dean's advice. Cas pulled his left foot up and pressed it to the back of his right knee. Dean was right. His feet were ice cold, but pressing it to the back of his knee helped to warm him up. Instinctively, he brought his right calf up to close around his foot without realizing that meant his right foot pressed against Dean. More specifically, against the upper portion of his thigh. Dean yelped again and, in an instinctive knee-jerk reaction, kneed Sam in a place much too close for comfort.

"Goddammit, Dean!" Sam yelled, flinching away.

"It's not my fault!" Dean snapped back, "Cas, what the hell!"

"I do not think this was a good idea," Cas mumbled.

Cas moved to get up and leave the brothers until Dean caught his wrist.

"Just put on some socks," Dean muttered.

Castiel stared at Dean for a second before the hunter reluctantly released his wrist. Cas considered leaving anyway, since he was clearly disturbing their sleep. But the tired, pleading look on Dean's face made him disregard that thought. He did as Dean said, again. When he layed back down, he tried to make more of an effort to keep his cold feet from touching Dean again. The best way for him to do that was by laying on his side, facing Dean.

It took several minutes for Dean's breathing to even back out; Sam had already fallen asleep by the time Cas had gotten back under the covers. Cas continued to watch the gentle rise and fall of Dean's chest and the way the tension eased back out his muscles. Cas felt his own breathing begin to slow as his eyelids felt heavier. Falling asleep was a strange feeling, mostly because it was the first time he'd ever done so. But he couldn't say he'd complain too much, the sight before him was a pleasant last one before sleep finally overtook him.

Hours ticked by with the three of them enjoying the silence and warmth. Until Dean subconsciously decided he was now too warm. He made a half-assed effort to throw back the covers, but both Sam and Cas resisted. Sam grumbled in annoyance, pulling the blankets back up to his face. When Dean tried to pull up the bottom of the blankets, Cas scowled lightly in his sleep and stretched out to pin the blankets against the foot board. There was a short struggle there that result in Cas' socks falling off, though they were barely on to begin with. In the struggle, Dean's hot skin brushed against Cas' still cold skin. Feeling that, the hunter settled down, this time much closer to Cas than before. He tucked himself against Cas, burying his face against Cas' neck, using the angel's arm as a pillow now.

Castiel, enjoying the heat curled up to him, let his arms loosely wrap around Dean. He wrinkled his nose and shifted his head when a soft spike of Dean's hair brushed his nose. Dean responded with a deep sigh and nuzzled the angel's neck.

Castiel couldn't say he objected to sleeping. He still didn't need it, but he found it to be very pleasant, just as Jimmy's memories had offered. He also intended to share the bed with the hunter in his arms more often. What he did object to, however, was when dawn came.

"Dude, what the hell?!" Sam shouted.

Dean's eyes snapped open and he struck his head on Cas' chin, startling the angel wide awake. In Dean's panicked attempt to get out the tangled mass of limbs they were, he sent the both of them falling over the edge of the bed, taking all the blankets with them. In a heartbeat, Dean was on his hands and knees, half covered by a blanket, and frantically looking around for the cause of his brother's sudden distress. Seeing the look on Sam's face and Cas on the floor beside him, he figured it out. He felt a blush creeping across his cheeks as he stood up, throwing the blankets aside. He swallowed thickly, trying to keep his composure as he looked at Sam.

"What?" Dean challenged.

Sam simply raised his brow at Dean questioningly. Dean huffed and spun on his heels to leave, faltering on the blankets that covered the smooth wooden floor. Both Sam and Cas watched the embarrassed hunter walk out, trying to keep calm until he was out of sight. When Dean was gone, Sam looked down at Cas, still lying on the floor in the mess of blankets. He sighed, throwing his legs over the side of the bed and getting up. He lazily ran a hand through his hair as he made for the door as well.

"If you're gonna keep doing this, I am not sharing a bed with you two," Sam grumbled.

"I believe that is for the better," Cas agreed in slight annoyance.

Cas stayed on the floor just a bit longer, thinking that if Sam hadn't been sharing the bed, then he wouldn't have woken Dean up. That he could still be sleeping peaceful with Dean curled next to him. Castiel grimaced at the recent memory of the interruption. He would find a way to keep Sam's own room warm enough for Sam to go back to while Dean's would remain cold enough to warrant an excuse for such a sleeping arrangement.