Okay, so there's no wings but it's Destiel. So whatever.
Bed Hair
He could feel someone's gaze on him, a hard stare that bore into the back of his neck and had pulled him gently from the depths of sleep.
Dean remained sprawled beneath the blankets of the motel bed, slitted eyes watching Sam breath slowly in and out. His attention was, however, focused on whoever it was that was staring at him.
And he had a good idea who it was but he decided to wait and see.
A shuffling across the cheap motel carpet, a pause, and then a low creak as someone crawled slowly onto the bed. Dean had to fight to keep his breathing regular and the smile off his face. He could feel a warm body at his back, carefully not touching him, lingering just behind him, eyes still on him.
Just to mess around, Dean let out a sleepy sigh and shifted. The person behind him stiffened and pulled back. Dean pushed his face into the pillow and then stilled, still fighting the smile that wanted to creep over his features. It was a few moments before the someone worked up the courage to move closer again. A warm breath whispered across the back of Dean's neck and then, to the man's surprise, a few light fingers in his hair. He still didn't move.
The someone grew bolder and pressed their hand into Dean's scruffy hair, running through it once, twice, three times before pulling back. Fingers trailed down the back of his head, flitted down his neck, across his shoulder, rested lightly on the hand-shaped mark there, and then vanished.
"Cas...?" Dean grunted in the sleepiest manner he could muster.
A creak of old bed springs, a brief shuffle, the flutter of wings.
The space at his back got cold.
Dean rolled over, rubbed his eyes, and looked around. The motel room was empty except for himself and Sam.
"Castiel?" He said again in a low voice.
Nothing.
Frowning slightly, Dean rolled back, tugging the covers up to his neck, and pressed his face deeper into the pillow.
"You have bed hair."
"Holy shit!" Dean tore the blankets from the bed and sent both himself and the newly reappeared Castiel tumbling to the floor. Blankets tangled with arms, arms tangled with legs, and legs got lost somewhere in the mess of it all.
"Dean?" Sam gave a groggy snort, hand automatically flashing out from underneath his pillow holding a knife. It took him a moment to find his brother and when he did, he burst out laughing.
Dean and Castiel were tangled together on the floor, a mess of blankets, limbs, and trench coat. Dean was attempting to push Cas off of him while the angel was trying to worm his way out of the twisted blanket that had trapped them. The end result was that they became more trapped than before.
Sam slid out of bed, chuckling all the while, "You two need the room to yourself? I can go get us some breakfast if you want."
"Sam!" Dean shouted as his brother yanked on some clothes and headed for the door, "Sam, get back here! Sam!" Dean let out a wordless shout as the motel room door swung shut, Sam's laughter echoing behind him. After a long moment of glaring at the closed door, Dean relaxed and returned his gaze to Castiel.
"He took his time." The angel remarked, chest pressed against Dean's, "Do you think he is upset about being woken up?"
"Big deal if he is." Dean replied, smirking, "What's he going to do about it?"
Castiel tilted his head slightly, reached out, and ruffled his fingers through Dean's hair again, "You have terrible bed hair."
"You should see how messy yours is everyday." Dean shot back and then grinned, "Want to get out of this now?"
"No." Came the answer and Cas let his head drop onto Dean's chest with a light sigh, his fingers remaining in the other man's hair, "I don't mind."
"Me either." Dean said, dropping an arm across the angel's shoulders and looking lazily up at the ceiling,
"I don't mind at all."
