The light streaming though the open window hit Dean full in the face, jarring him awake. Years of well-honed instinct kept him still as he tried to remember how he'd wound up in this motel, a different one than he'd woken up in the morning before, a single room instead of the usual double; he was sweating under three blankets and he could hear the radiator whistling as it struggled along at full blast.
Not to mention Castiel was squeezed in there next to him on the twin bed. Naked and next to him in bed. In fact, they were both naked, and sure, Dean had woken up from a fair share of dreams that had gone like this but this was the first time he'd managed it with his eyes open.
Cas shivered, pressing against Dean, and the previous night came roaring back: the yuki-onna ambushing them out in the woods (and what the hell that was doing in middle-of-nowhere Michigan Dean had no idea), their guns freezing and cracking in their hands and the way that thing had gone right for Cas, long white fingers wrapping around his throat until ice caked his eyelashes and his lips turned blue. Dean remembered Cas shaking against him in the back seat as Sam drove them out of there, his hands like white blocks of ice as Dean tried anything he could think of to keep him awake.
Castiel shivered again, pulling Dean back from the memory and he pushed it away, wrapping his arms back around Cas. The movement made him stir and Dean felt Cas' eyelashes brush against his skin as he woke. "Dean?" he murmured, bleary blue eyes looking up at him. "Did I sleep?"
"Looks like it." Dean traced his fingertips down Castiel's arm; his skin was still dotted with goosebumps and his hands were cold enough that Dean jumped when Cas settled one against his waist. "That thing sure mojoed you good."
"Some spirits are more powerful than others," he said into Dean's skin, like he couldn't be bothered to pick up his head. He shivered again and Dean wrapped him up tighter, shifting around so he was on his back with Cas on top of him.
"That better?" he said, he said, resting one hand against the small of his back.
Castiel nodded, stretching out on top of Dean with a happy little sigh. "Do we have to get up yet?"
Dean traced the marks left on his neck from where the spirit had grabbed him, a handprint drawn on his skin with frostbite. "Not until you're better."
"Being cold is unpleasant."
Dean trailed his fingertips up Cas' spine, feeling him slowly relax. "Go back to sleep. Or whatever it is you do. You'll feel better in a few more hours, then we'll go out and kick that thing's ass. Deal? Sam's probably working on what we need to kill it right now."
Castiel nodded again, letting out another contented sigh when Dean wrapped one arm around his waist. Dean pulled the covers back around him, tucking them around his shoulders. He laced his fingers through Cas' cold ones and counted the seconds until his breathing went deep and even again, his breath warm against Dean's neck.
Re: Supernatural, Dean/Cas
Not to mention Castiel was squeezed in there next to him on the twin bed. Naked and next to him in bed. In fact, they were both naked, and sure, Dean had woken up from a fair share of dreams that had gone like this but this was the first time he'd managed it with his eyes open.
Cas shivered, pressing against Dean, and the previous night came roaring back: the yuki-onna ambushing them out in the woods (and what the hell that was doing in middle-of-nowhere Michigan Dean had no idea), their guns freezing and cracking in their hands and the way that thing had gone right for Cas, long white fingers wrapping around his throat until ice caked his eyelashes and his lips turned blue. Dean remembered Cas shaking against him in the back seat as Sam drove them out of there, his hands like white blocks of ice as Dean tried anything he could think of to keep him awake.
Castiel shivered again, pulling Dean back from the memory and he pushed it away, wrapping his arms back around Cas. The movement made him stir and Dean felt Cas' eyelashes brush against his skin as he woke. "Dean?" he murmured, bleary blue eyes looking up at him. "Did I sleep?"
"Looks like it." Dean traced his fingertips down Castiel's arm; his skin was still dotted with goosebumps and his hands were cold enough that Dean jumped when Cas settled one against his waist. "That thing sure mojoed you good."
"Some spirits are more powerful than others," he said into Dean's skin, like he couldn't be bothered to pick up his head. He shivered again and Dean wrapped him up tighter, shifting around so he was on his back with Cas on top of him.
"That better?" he said, he said, resting one hand against the small of his back.
Castiel nodded, stretching out on top of Dean with a happy little sigh. "Do we have to get up yet?"
Dean traced the marks left on his neck from where the spirit had grabbed him, a handprint drawn on his skin with frostbite. "Not until you're better."
"Being cold is unpleasant."
Dean trailed his fingertips up Cas' spine, feeling him slowly relax. "Go back to sleep. Or whatever it is you do. You'll feel better in a few more hours, then we'll go out and kick that thing's ass. Deal? Sam's probably working on what we need to kill it right now."
Castiel nodded again, letting out another contented sigh when Dean wrapped one arm around his waist. Dean pulled the covers back around him, tucking them around his shoulders. He laced his fingers through Cas' cold ones and counted the seconds until his breathing went deep and even again, his breath warm against Dean's neck.