Mike looked a little dismayed as he came back into the bedroom, carrying a tray of something steaming hot and Dean's attention was drawn to it as he smelled the rich flavor of a meal he never really liked to eat, or rather would never order, but damn if it did smell good. His stomach growled in anticipation and Dean actually blushed just a bit, feeling embarrassed of how loud that was.

"That for me?" The hunter asked with a quirked eyebrow and a lip to match. Michael only bowed his head lower, not daring to make eye contact as if his eyes would betray him.

Truth was, he had no idea what to do. Logic told him he should tell the hunter who he was and not keep secrets because they always get revealed in the worst possible time, but there were so many reasons for him not to say a word.

Dean's current situation and health, for one. The hunter was hurt and basically defenceless. Not to mention stranded here, and telling him the truth would only antagonize him and make a bad situation worse. Then, of course there was the reason Michael wanted solitude in the first place. No more angels and apocalypse and hunters and all of that. He just wanted to live in peace. And that would clearly be disrupted if he revealed who he truly was.

Perhaps it would be best if he just remained quiet.

"Smells really good." Dean commented as Mike came closer. One look at the simple noodle soup in the bowl had Dean humming and Mike reddening, because the sound was too eclectic, pleased and erotic and approving and it just made the poor little archangel's heart pound harder.

With a small grunt, Dean tried to shift into an somewhat seating position and Michael quickly set the tray down on the nightstand, then reached and reset the pillows, leaning into Dean's space and pausing, looking startled as their eyes met. Dean's lips just twitched into a half smile and Michael moved away, dazed.

"You smell really good too..." Dean said as Michael took the tray "... Like the soup, I mean... You smell like the soup." Dean corrected himself rather dumbly, but Michael's cheeks still flushed. The archangel sat the tray in Dean's lap and flinched, startled when Dean set his hand over Michael's. His eyes went wide, but he didn't pull back.

"Thank you." Dean said kindly and Michael's flush deepened, but he managed to nod back and then offer a small smile. The sight of those lips curling up made Dean's eyes go wide, pupils dilating and a blush of his own creeping up his cheeks. But then his eyes travelled down to the tray and Dean chuckled, confusing the hell out of the archangel.

"Not the first time I felt heat rise up in my nether regions at the sight of a smile like that, but it is certainly a first to be a result of a hot bowl in my lap." Dean explained and managed to draw a real smile out of Michael. Both paused, eyes lingering on the face of the other, but the moment wasn't awkward at all.

"Are... Are you gonna eat too?" Dean asked, some sort of concern in his voice. Almost as if he was worried the other man would starve because he shared his meal. But Michael only nodded then turned and left the room, disappearing somewhere to the left. By now Dean figured that's where the kitchen was.

A few moments later, Michael came into the view, glancing his way before setting his bowl on the small dinning table. He seemed reluctant, like he wanted to be in the same room with Dean, be close to him, but didn't want to intrude or seem clingy. Lucky for him, Dean knew what he wanted.

"You're not gonna keep me company?" The hunter questioned with a small pout, and Michael just stared for a moment, surprised Dean would want him to be close. Slowly, as if he was giving Dean an opportunity to change his mind, Michael picked up the bowl and came back into the bedroom, sitting down on his chair. Dean gave him a wide grin before he dove in, humming as the taste of warm soup spread in his mouth and filled his empty stomach.

They kept glancing at one another as they ate, catching the other one watching, and still, it didn't felt awkward at all, only caused pleasant feelings to spread through their bodies. Once they were done, Michael took Dean's bowl and walked back out towards the kitchen. Dean had a very happy, very pleased smile on his face considering his current situation.

He supposed he could have been off worse, but that wasn't it. There was just something about this guy, about how shy and silent he was that awoke something in Dean. He seemed so kind and soft, tender even, at yet he was the one that took down the werewolf and dragged Dean back into his cabin. Even under all those layers of clothes, it was evident that the guy was strong, had good set of muscles on him. Dean always admired people with lean bodies.

A few minutes passed by and Dean realized he hadn't heard from his friend. "Mike?" Dean tried, but was met with silence. "Hey, Mike? You there?" Nothing. I mean, sure the guy hadn't said a word to him all day, or like at all, but he would have answered Dean in a way, right? Slight panic started to crawl its way into Dean's mind, because there are a million things that could have gone wrong, and Dean was almost incapable of helping. "Fuck this." The hunter said and flipped the blanket off, revealing his very much broken and bandaged leg. (No to mention nothing else but his boxer briefs, but we won't talk about that now).

Just as he was about to attempt to get up, when he heard the front door open, and crap, he must have been deep in his thoughts before, because he totally missed that Mike went out. The man walked into view, carrying an armful of firewood and setting it next to the fireplace before adding one into the fire.

Okay, now he felt stupid. Even worse, Michael looked his way and frowned, then rushed to his side with a questioning brow. "Sorry, I..." Dean started, not sure what to say. 'I got worried about you' just didn't sound right, so he blurted the next thing that came to mind. "...I needed to use the john."

Michael's frown deepened, laced with confusion as if he didn't quite get that reference while Dean blushed as if it wasn't a completely normal thing that human beings had physiological needs.

"I, um... I need to pee." Yeah, nice save there, Dean. Since he knew he wasn't supposed to get up and set his weight on that leg, not even a little bit, the guy's probably gonna give him a bucket and... Crap, this was embarrassing.

But then... The guy's eyes raked all over Dean's body as if he was assessing him and Dean felt more heat in his cheeks that seemed to travel downwards, but now way was he gonna let himself get hard, and expose that to the guy. That endeavour however became a lot more difficult when Mike reached and snaked his hands around Dean, lifting him and helping him up.

Shit, the guy was strong. He took almost all of Dean's weight, albeit with a grunt, and without letting him lean on that broken foot. Dean hissed, because of course it had to hurt and he could almost feel the concern washing over Mike, who did whatever he could to get Dean to the bathroom with as little actual movement on Dean's side as possible. Dean wouldn't be surprised if the guy went on and picked him up bridal style.

He was so freaking helpful, Dean wouldn't be surprised if he removed Dean's underwear just to help him sit down on the toilet. Oh... What if he took Dean's dick out and held it for him? Fuck, Dean really needed to stop thinking like this because he will end up not being able to do anything else but jerk himself off in the bathroom.

Still there was just something about this whole situation that made that idea so freaking hot.

Luckily, he was left to his own devices, but the caring Mike was just outside the door, waiting to help him back to bed. And when Dean thought about it, maybe... Maybe it wasn't something about this situation... Maybe it was something about this guy. Something different. Something... Nice.