Sammy’s snores, Dean can deal with. He has had enough time to learn to ignore them over the years the brothers have had to share shabby motel rooms. Somewhere along the way, Dean even started to appreciate them, seeing them as a constant reminder that his little brother is alive and (awfully loud, though still) breathing.
Dean’s currently wrapped in a thin, scratchy blanket and tries his best to finally fall asleep after an exhausting day of hunting. He’s sharing a motel room with Sam and Cas, and it’s the first time they are doing that since Cas fell and became human. Both brothers had their fair share of awkward moments trying to teach Castiel basic human actions and proceedings. Sam tends to let Dean take over, arguing that he and the former angel have always had a better relationship and it would be less awkward for both himself and Castiel if Dean would handle those situations.
He taught him how to shave, how to properly wash himself, how to deal with pain, sickness and wounds. But until this very moment, trying to fall asleep in a room with Cas, it never even occurred to Dean that Castiel, who is eons old, could have difficulties falling asleep.
He’s been human for almost two weeks now, surely he would have told Dean if he had had troubles falling asleep all this time?
Dean has had to listen to Castiel rolling and tossing around in his bed for about 30 minutes (though it certainly felt more like two hours) when he finally decides that he has had enough of this.
Yes, Dean might be grumpy and tired and a little out of his mind when he gets out of bed to do what he has been considering doing for the last 30 minutes, but he still shuffles over to Cas’ bed. He doesn’t turn on the lights, just quickly scans the bed in the sparse light that is coming through the motel room’s window to make out Castiel’s form underneath his blanket.
The thing is, Dean has been thinking about this exact situation for years. He knows exactly what he’s doing and what impact it might have on his relationship with his best friend, but at this point, he simply doesn’t care anymore.
The hunter climbs into Cas’ bed, lifts the blanket, moves underneath it and shuffles closer to the body next to him. He hears the gasp that leaves Castiel’s lips as soon as he registers what is happening, feels the minty breath brush over his face, but he ignores it in favor of enveloping his best friend in a hug and gently brushing his hands over his back.
“This okay, Cas?” Dean murmurs against his face, closing his eyes and praying to whoever is listening that he didn’t misinterpret all the signs he thought to have seen over their time together. That he isn’t overstepping Cas’ boundaries right now. That he won’t be thrown out of the bed in the next few seconds.
There is no immediate response, though Cas snuggles into his open arms and presses his face in the hollow between Dean’s neck and his shoulder, inhaling deeply. Dean doesn’t need more confirmation than that, so he tightens his hug and brushes his cheek against Castiel’s soft hair.
They don’t really need any words to settle things between them after that, they never did.
But, lying here in the silent gloominess of this dirty hotel room, they do exchange a few words.
Cas breathes a choked “thanks” against Dean’s neck, who in turn answers with a gentle “whenever you need me”. They settle it with an almost reverent, careful kiss and it doesn’t take more than two minutes for Castiel to fall asleep in Dean’s warm, safe embrace.