Cas hadn't moved or spoken in about half an hour; though, for all Dean knew, it might have been five minutes or an hour. His brain had become fuzzy from the desire to sleep, and without Cas or the movie to keep him awake- he'd seen this particular one no less than a dozen times, and it couldn't hold his attention anymore- his body was gradually shutting down for the night. His eyes had just started getting incredibly heavy when the warmth at his side retreated, and the bed of the mattress straightened under him a bit. The door to his bedroom opened and closed with tiny squeaks; and then Cas was gone, without a word.

Dean fought against the weight of his eyelids and the suffocating urge to stay put by opting to leave his own room and follow Cas, letting the noise of the movie blare on in the background. It didn't seem normal for Cas to leave again so soon, no matter if he was just grabbing a book or something from the library. Usually Cas humoured him by staying there throughout the night like a weirdo, or apologized early on and wriggled his way out of the room- and Dean understood both. What he didn't understand was why Cas wasn't in his bedroom. Or the library. Or the kitchen. Or the dungeon.

Or basically anywhere in the bunker.

And for a few awful minutes, Dean was left wondering once more if Cas had really ditched them for something monster- or angel-related in the early hours of Christmas Day.

Then, for some strange reason, he stopped by the room he was calling the "Cave", or the "Den". Maybe "Dean Den". Needless to say, it was still a work in progress Nobody else had really been in this room, beyond the rare couple of times Cas and Sam had come to take a quick look at things. It was like his own second private spot, except for the fact that tonight there was an angel crashed on the loveseat. He doubted he'd keep the loveseat; it had just been on the road, and now it was just here. Similar to how Cas had just sort of manifested in this room for absolutely no reason.

Dean circled the loveseat as if preparing for the angel to jump off the couch. But Cas just stayed there quietly, eyes closed and laying on his side, curled up within his trench coat like a little burrito. It all gave off an oddly human feeling. He knew Cas' grace had been acting up, but… This was almost worrying. He hated to wake Cas- and he found himself doing it anyways, asking if Cas was okay.

He got a very muffled, "Mhm," which sounded affirmative enough. Cas curled inwards on himself even further, which also happened to be in the direction of Dean's hand, laid softly on his shoulder. "I didn't want to bother you," the angel muttered. At least, that's what Dean assumed he said. Cas himself was still trying to fight off the sleep long enough to get orientated. The angel had been afraid that falling asleep in his own room would've been too obvious to avoid attention, and if he was being honest, the loveseat was comforting because of its material tendency to pick up scents. Right now it smelled a bit like Dean. Cas had narrowly avoided conking out in Dean's room- but he was basically toast now. His exhausted mind hardly even registered that he had sat up, let alone what Dean was doing- and even still, it was hard to miss the warmth in this cool area of the bunker while Dean took up a seat beside him, no longer hiding the way he leaned into Cas' shoulder.

Only about half of the loveseat became vacant when Cas sat upright in his sleep-ridden daze, but Dean figured he'd take it. Cas seemed like he was trying to convince himself- and Dean, although the angel should have known by now that he couldn't bullshit the Winchester- that he wasn't very tired. But he was. They both were. Between the extra rum in the eggnog and the last few weeks of restless nights, some old part of Dean's brain had clicked off, and he didn't feel like moving anymore tonight. Though the loveseat was old, it was a comfortable thing. He put most of his weight on the back cushions and let himself lean a little bit on the angel- to make sure Cas wouldn't sneak off anywhere else. And, secretly, because this arrangement was pretty comfy.

Cas pulled away from Dean for a second. When their shoulders connected again, there was a noticeable layer of clothing missing. It caused Dean's eyes to flicker open on instinct. Cas recognized the shock with a little smile.

The trench coat- he'd taken off his trench coat.

"Okay, woah," Dean pulled away a little, his words slurring at their edges from mental flatlining. He hadn't signed up for this when he took a seat.

"It's cold." That was literally the only thing Cas replied with. It wasn't any sort of answer Dean had been expecting, nor one that he thought he really wanted to hear, until the trench coat was getting draped over him like a blanket and Cas was snuggling back into him. He realized Cas was just being his regular self again- a bit obtuse, maybe, but wholly caring. They weren't exactly lying down on the loveseat, but Cas appeared to already have fallen asleep again, and with his head buried into Dean's shoulder like an anchoring weight, there'd be no more shuffling around tonight. Dean felt the pull of sleep in pretty short order. His head eventually drooped down to rest on top of Cas', and they were both out like lights.

OOO

They slept like that into the morning, too. So much so that Sam had enough time to put up some extra decorations for Christmas Day- the only piece of mistletoe that got hung in the bunker, positioned right above the loveseat.

So they all got pretty involved in Christmas, by the end.

A/N:

That's a wrap!

Dean would probably make a fuss about the mistletoe not counting, but I'll leave that up to interpretation. ^w^

(I guess I'll also count this as a belated contribution to Dean's birthday stuff. Canon really screwed us over, but we got plenty of fanart and cameos, regardless- even Chad Lindberg joined in! Fun all around. ^-^)