Apparently not. His entrance into the other bedroom was far less successful. Somehow, Cas woke up two seconds into the gentle - what the hell, Cas, it was practically silent - click of it latching behind him, rolling over and frowning before spitting out a slurred, "Whazzit?"

"Nothing, Cas."

Cas' frown deepened. "Why're you awake?"

Dean settled back down onto the floor - did not wince at the feeling - and yanked the sheet back over him. "Th' cow was being loud. Had to deal with her." It took him a few seconds to realize what he'd said and correct it. "Er, it."

Cas snorted, face smushed against the pillow. "Smtha's a cow, Dean. Of course sh's loud." He settled back against the pillow, then propped himself up and squinted over. "Why were you up in the first place?"

He was looking remarkably and unfortunately awake, and Dean disliked the way Cas was looking at him as though he knew something. "Thinking about class and… stuff." He shrugged. "You know, the usual."

Cas raised his eyebrow. (Dean did not gulp.) "Dean, you spent all afternoon thinking about class. Why didn't you sleep?"

"No, I spent all afternoon doing homework, Cas. There's a difference." Cas didn't look convinced. "Just… Go to sleep. It's fine."

He neither looked convinced nor settled back down. "Dean, why aren't you sleeping?"

"Oh, c'mon, Cas…" Dean grinned, trying for a cocky smirk (despite, okay, fine, his eyes were burning, but it's fine). "It's not like I ever sleep, so it ain't nothin' new." (And, alright, maybe he closed his eyes immediately after, but it was still fine.)

"But… Dean, you need to sleep to function."

And, okay, Dean wasn't going to sleep after that, now was he, so of course he opened his eyes again. (He still regretted it, though.) "I got a few hours!"

The eyebrow climbed higher (which had absolutely no impact on Dean). "Not enough, Dean. You look exhausted."

Dean smirked again. (And this one worked, okay? It did.) "That's 'cause I haven't had my coffee, Cas."

As a side note: Cas' eyebrow needed to stop rising. Dean was getting worried that it wouldn't come back down. "Coffee doesn't cure tired, Dean."

Dean blinked. "Uh… yeah, it does. That's… that's kinda the point."

"You haven't slept, Dean."

"But… coffee." Cas looked unimpressed, so Dean turned his tone a little more serious. "I'll be fine, Cas."

A few seconds of silence passed, and Dean actually got to close his eyes and… "Take the bed tonight. You need rest."

"Dude, it's…" Dean got halfway through checking his watch before remembering, oh, yeah, he can't see in the dark. (He probably should have learned that by now, but damn was he tired.) Then he yanked out his phone and checked the time. Then, he slumped back against the pillow and groaned out, "... four."

Cas nodded, words slurred into his pillow again. "Tha's all th' more reason, Dean…" He trailed off.

Dean shifted, settling back against the pillow (and not stifling a groan in the process). "You're half asleep, Cas. Keep the damn bed."

"Y're awake. Tha's concerning. You take th' bed." And then he promptly rolled off the bed, fell to the floor with a thump, yanked the sheet off of Dean, and promptly curled up under it. (Was he frigging snuffling?)

Okay, nope, moving on. "Yeah, that ain't happening, Cas." He didn't move. "Cas?" Still no motion. "Cas?" For a moment, Dean was minorly tempted to just take the damn bed because, hell, he was freaking exhausted… but, well, he couldn't just leave Cas sleeping on the floor, now could he?

Dean reevaluated his life choices about two steps after lifting Cas into a slightly awkward bridal carr- (okay, nope, not going there). He still followed through on easing Cas to the be- (what the hell, brain, get it together) and turned to walk away.

Of course Cas chose then to wake up and dart out a hand to wrap around Dean's wrist - get it together, Dean - and tugged hard enough to stop him from returning to the floor. "Dammit, Cas, I'm fine. Don't be an idiot; I'm not kicking you out of your own bed."

"We could… I mean… We could both t-take the bed?" Cas was not stuttering. Dean was pretty certain of it, at least. He'd imagined it. Or Cas was tired; one of the two. But it just wasn't happening in the first place.

Dean shook his head, reaching for Cas' hand - not like that, brain - and trying to pry it off. "I think that's… probably n-not a great idea?"

Cas blinked. "Why not, Dean?"

Dean didn't stutter. (Dean Winchester never stuttered.) He also definitely could put his thoughts into words. He just chose not to. "We'll talk tomorrow, Cas." (Dean was not mid-unconventional prayer that Cas would just forget about it in the morning and they'd both escaped unscathed.)

Cas shifted again, head thunking against the pillow again. "Sleep with me, Dean."

Dean blinked.

Twice.

He tried his hand at staring for a bit; then, he changed it up and tried gawking, followed by a completely unique and unexpected gawping. (There was a fine line between gawking and gawping. He wasn't sure what it was, but there was one.)

Trying to speak failed, too. (Dean Winchester did not gulp because of an almost certainly innocuous comment from his exhausted roommate.)

Eventually, though, he managed it. "Uh…" (Dean didn't clear his throat.) "Cas." (Dean was not at a loss for words.) "Maybe you should wait until you're a bit more… uh… awake? And not say that again." He swallowed. "Ever." Twice. "Please." (Dean Winchester didn't beg… but he could make a damn exception because holy hell.)

Cas was frowning again (and why did that manage to make Dean feel like shit?) "Dean, it's not a big deal. I-It's just… you know, s-sharing a bed."

Cas was not stuttering because Cas very clearly could not be stuttering. Dean was making it up because he was tired and hearing shit a-and way, way too exhausted to sort out real versus fake in the damn darkness - through which he'd already established he couldn't see - so…"Okay. Fine."

Dean made a habit out of being calm and collected. Smooth. So, of course, there was nothing awkward about his - very awkward to the point that it would have been painful to see and he was very, very grateful that humans were not cows and thus couldn't see in the dark - graceful trajectory onto the bed. (He also wasn't offering up another pseudo-prayer to any god idiotic enough to listen to him that better not hate me in the morning, Cas.)

And, really, it was completely unfair for Cas to smile like that, with so much damn victory that Dean - despite still not being able to see in the dark - could see it glinting in his blue (that's irrelevant, brain) eyes before they closed and he started to drift back to sleep.

Dean was not lucky enough to manage the same easy loss of consciousness - not that he was overthinking because shit, how much space was his, could he take that much of the blanket and not have Cas freeze all night, shit, what the hell, how many hours left, am I sleeping less than I would on the floor?, shit, shit, shit because Dean Winchester was smooth - but at least his back hurt a little less.

When Dean finally did drift off, the sun had already started to rise, and the last thought running through his head was I better get coffee after all this.