Castiel awoke with a lung-pulling gasp, covered in cold sweat.
There was a banging at the door.
He was reminded of his dream and sprinted to the door.
Even if it wasn't Dean, he would go and check if he was okay.
It was a dream.
Dream.
Just a dream.
He flung the door open, his breath shallow and sharp, his eyes fever-bright.
Dean smiled up at him, his smile quirking up slightly.
He was holding a bouquet of poppies in front of him.
"Er, hi, Cas. I was wondering if you wanted to go for a coffee or something?" he smiled awkwardly.
Castiel stared at him for a couple of seconds.
"Um, you okay?"
"Dean."
"Yup."
Suddenly Castiel was surging forward and enveloping Dean in a massive hug.
A few seconds later, Castiel realised he was shirtless.
Whatever.
"You're not dead." Mumbled Castiel.
"Last time I checked, yes."
Castiel hugged him harder, and Dean laughed.
"So is this a yes?"
"Yes."
Sorry, not sorry
