"Cas!" Dean called from the living room. "Cas, is the soup ready yet?"
"It will be ready soon, Dean."
"I can't wait any longer, Cas! I'm dying in here!" Castiel rolled his eyes. He couldn't help but notice how Dean's voice obtained a distinctly whiny quality when he was sick.
"You're not dying. You just have a fever." Cas called back to Dean as he poured the chicken noodle soup into a bowl. Carrying a mug of tea in one hand and the bowl in the other, he walked into the living room, where Dean was lying on the couch. The former hunter hardly looked intimidating in his current position; he lay cocooned in three blankets, head turned to watch the football game on the television. Seeing Cas enter with food, Dean moved weakly. Castiel quickly laid down the soup and tea on the coffee table so he could help Dean sit up.
"Thanks," Dean exhaled heavily. He had been attacked by a particularly bad case of the flu, and even moving had proved a challenge in the past few days. "What the hell is that?" He motioned to the steaming mug with an expression of utter confusion.
"It's tea, Dean. I read on the internet that one is supposed to give the ill tea to help them heal." Cas smoothed the blankets surrounding Dean and sat down next to him.
"Tea? I can't drink tea. I'm a warrior." Dean said irritably.
"Not anymore. Now eat." Castiel said. He picked up the bowl and handed it to Dean, who began to sip it slowly. "How does that taste?" Castiel asked anxiously. He had spent the better part of the afternoon using the internet and the contents of the refrigerator to try and figure out how to make chicken noodle soup.
"Good," said Dean, after swallowing. "My head hurts. Could I lie down and you can feed me the soup?" Castiel had to smile, looking at the pitiful grown man next to him. At the moment, he more closely resembled a five year old than the creature once feared by the collective forces of Heaven and Hell.
"Yes, of course." Cas assented. Dean leaned back down on the couch and opened his mouth for Castiel to feed him.
"The soup is yummy." He said in between spoonfuls. Castiel grinned.
"I used the leftover rotisserie chicken you made last night and some of the noodles in the cupboard." The former angel stated proudly.
"I mean it. You should really do the cooking more often, Cas." Dean said weakly. Castiel was struck suddenly with a rush of love for the man lying in front of him. Even now, when his weak human body was failing him, Dean was trying to take care of someone else. Trying to make sure that Cas felt good about himself and his accomplishments, however minor, trying protect the one he loved at all times.
Castiel leaned down and kissed Dean on the forehead.
"It's too bad you're sick." He smiled. "Otherwise I'm afraid I'd be forced to kiss you right now." Dean laughed weakly. Reaching out from underneath his shield of blankets, he pulled Cas down by his shirt.
"You're not getting out of it that easily." He whispered, and then gave Castiel a gentle kiss. Cas couldn't help but reciprocate, pressing Dean's feverish lips against his own. He was aware that as a human, he was at severe risk of catching the illness from this contact. But sickness was a small price to pay for just one touch. Besides, Dean would always be there to take care of him. Castiel pulled away gently.
"I'm going to make myself some soup as well. Watch your football." Castiel stood up and moved to walk to the kitchen. Dean grabbed his hand suddenly, and looked up at Cas with wide eyes.
"Hey," he whispered. "Thank you."
"For what?" Cas asked, with quiet trepidation. He knew that this abrupt intimacy was brought about by fever; even with Castiel, Dean usually kept his emotions to himself. However, he needed to hear what the man lying on the couch truly felt.
"For saving my life." He pulled Cas's hand to his lips. "You saved my life." He pressed a soft kiss onto Castiel's palm before releasing it. Cas smiled broadly, feeling the ridiculous happiness he had become accustomed to as a regular aspect of his life with Dean Winchester.
"You saved mine." He whispered. Castiel walked to the kitchen to get himself a bowl of chicken soup, eagerly awaiting a night of watching over Dean.
