The soft fluttering of eyelashes against the bare skin of Castiel’s chest, alerted him that the sleeping human that was curled up against his side was about to wake up. Dean’s breathing became noticeably uneven and less deep, and he incoherently mumbled some words into Castiel’s skin.
“Good morning, Dean.” Castiel smiled to himself as he greeted the sleepy Winchester.
“Morning, Cas…” Dean replied groggily. “It’s morning already?” He grumbled, looking up at Cas with narrowed eyes.
“I’m afraid so.” Castiel confirmed in an apologetic tone.
Dean groaned, making his displeasure known, but otherwise he didn’t talk.
Castiel was used to it. He knew the drill; Dean was not much of a morning person, and he usually needed some time to properly wake up. Castiel always gave him that time, and he knew Dean appreciated it.
Dean’s fingertips were doodling patterns on Castiel’s chest, then moved lower, brushing against Cas’ ribs. Suddenly, those fingertips stilled.
“What’s this, Cas?”
Curious green eyes were peeking up at Castiel as Dean lightly tapped his fingers against Castiel’s tattoo. Castiel’s stomach tightened. He’d hoped Dean wouldn’t notice, but of course he should’ve taken into account how perceptive the oldest Winchester was.
Regardless, Castiel decided to play dumb.
“You know that, Dean. I explained it to you, those are Enochian sigils that will keep other angels from finding me.”
When Dean snorted and threw Castiel his infamous ‘you’re-so-full-of-shit’ look, Castiel knew that he was busted.
“That’s not what I meant, and you know it. Those last two words on the bottom, they weren’t there before.” Dean pointed out relentlessly. “So what are they? What do they mean?”
Castiel sighed, his eyes holding Dean’s.
“Well? No more secrets, ever again. You promised.” Dean reminded him.
The pleading look on Dean’s freckled face provided Castiel with enough strength to confess the truth.
“It’s…. It’s your name. It says Dean Winchester.” Castiel admitted, not sure how Dean would take it.
Dean’s eyes turned wide, his jaw going slack. His gaze briefly flickered to the dark ink that painted Castiel’s skin.
“Please don’t be offended. It’s just that the warding sigils remind me of where I came from and of who I was… But I also wanted a reminder of who I am, and of what matters most to me now.”
Castiel held his breath as he waited for Dean to say something, anything.
Dean didn’t disappoint. All he muttered was a quiet “Shit, Cas” before he climbed right on top of Castiel, emerald eyes suddenly bright and awake. Less than a second later, and Dean was kissing Castiel senseless.
If Castiel had known that this would be Dean’s reaction, he would have told Dean about the little addition to his tattoo way, way earlier…