Dean flumped down on to the couch and settled in for the night. It was looking increasingly more likely that Cas was going to get over his diva-strop any time soon, so Dean grabbed a blanket out of the cupboard and lay down. He missed Cas' warmth next to him, Cas' fluffed-up morning hair and Cas' ability to wake up wrapped up like a burrito in the blankets no matter how tightly Dean tried to hold on to them. Stupid, mangy, rotten guinea pig, he thought resentfully. The least he could do was go and buy a carrot for it in the morning as a peace-making gift for Cas.
It was a cold night. Dean wished that Cas was feeling similar pangs of regret, but that was unlikely. He was the one who had got the comfy bed, for God's sake. Dean tried praying to Gabriel to tell his little brother to stop sulking like a pop star whose dog has just pooped on the million-pound floor (Dean being the dog and Cas being the pop star in this scenario). But either Gabriel was otherwise occupied or just liked watching real-life soap operas, because he didn't do anything helpful. (Or anything at all, to be perfectly honest.) Dean shifted uncomfortably, springs digging into him down the whole length of his back. Maybe Cas would - oof.
Dean exhaled sharply as Cas landed on top of him. The angel was crying pitifully and his tears had already soaked through Dean's thin T-shirt. Cas was grabbing on to Dean's hair as if it was going to melt away at any second and blubbing like his life was going to end.
"Cas?!" Dean couldn't contain his confusion. "What are you doing? What's going on? I thought you were mad at me?" Cas sobbed even harder. Dean couldn't keep up his affronted attitude, so dropped the pretence and gave Cas a bear hug (which wasn't hard, given that Cas was still lying on top of him).
"I'm sorry, Dean. I'm just so sorry . . . " Cas burst into a fresh wave of tears, prompting Dean to roll on to his side so Cas wouldn't be lying on him but next to him (partially to save his T-shirt and partially because Cas was squishing him uncomfortably). Dean sighed.
"We went through this with the organic carrots and the bees, remember? I screwed up, you got mad, equal share of the blame, yes?" Cas continued to bawl.
"Dean, I'm sorry. I'm sorry that I was so unfair and mean to you." Dean shook his head.
"You weren't unfair. I forgot Smitey's Christmas present. I should be the one apologising." Cas sniffled. They could both hear Smitey squeaking loudly in the kitchen.
"I don't think he minds, Dean. It was my fault. I overreacted. Can you forgive me?" Dean chuckled.
"Of course I do. Now, can we go to bed, please? I'm freezing and I need to change my T-shirt, now somebody has just soaked it with a shedload of highly unnecessary tears, hmm!" Dean picked Cas up as if he was a baby and carried him up the stairs.
He gently put Cas down in the middle of a pile of blankets and left him to burrito himself while he changed into a clean shirt. When he came back, Cas was safely wrapped up in all but one of the blankets, which he laid tenderly over Dean.
"Merry Christmas, Dean. I'm sorry about all the fuss." Dean smirked.
"Obviously I'm cool with it because it's Christmas, but next time . . . " He pulled a villainous face and did a James Bond-style voice. "You won't be so lucky!" He leapt on Cas and tickled him, leaving him squirming and snuffling with laughter.
Twenty minutes later, Dean was sound asleep, cuddled around his angel. Cas leant over and gave him a gentle kiss on the cheek.
"I couldn't sleep without you anyway." Cas was surprised when a reply floated back a few minutes later.
"Neither can I."