It was early enough that the sun wasn’t quite risen yet. Dean blinked up at the ceiling, stretching and only half-awake. Beside him, a lingering warmth still clung to the sheets. Soft footfalls padded away from the room towards the other side of the house.
Dean didn’t move to get up, preferring to lounge lazily across the bed. His absent companion’s scent still clung to the pillows, and though Dean would never in a million years admit it to Sam or anyone else, he was absolutely the type to go a little sappy and bury his face in his lover’s pillow.
It was the quiet sounds of the kitchen radio that finally roused him enough to get up. Pulling on a shirt against the morning chill, Dean made a quick stop at the bathroom before wandered into the kitchen to find Cas, drowsily making coffee. He walked over, wrapping Cas in an embrace, tucking his face into Cas’s shoulder. Cas hummed in appreciation, pressing back into Dean.
Dean could practically hear Cas’s smile as he spoke.
“Sometimes you’re a real angel.”
Cas snorted, passing over a mug. Dean, still wrapped around him, freed one hand to take it. No way was he letting go of Cas this early, even for coffee.
“The amazing part is how you still think that’s funny.”
“Hey, I’m hilarious.”
“I’d use the word deluded, but alright.”
“Fuck off,” Dean laughed out.
“Fuckin’ rude. And after I made you coffee.”
Dean only wiggled his eyebrows, taking a long drink. Cas rolled his eyes, hiding a smile behind his own mug as he turned to face Dean.
The early dawn light lit up the room with a pinkish glow, making everything look soft and unreal. Dean leaned back, eyes tracing over Cas all sleep-rumpled. He was human looking, hair a mess and slouching back against the counter and dressed in no more than an old shirt of Dean’s and a pair of boxers, but he so much more than that too. Grace and light and energy, a storm – a star! – all folded into this small body with only invisible wings left trailing out, and he still drank coffee every morning like an addict. He slept in Dean’s bed every night like it was a luxury, stealing the duvet every time and hell it was so perfect Dean didn’t even care.
God, Dean loved him so much.