lmao i fell asleep so early in the night and now im awake

‘’Dean?’’

Dean was half asleep in his bed, eyelids heavy and his mind weary. His name was called again and he hummed in response, tucking his head deeper into the pillow.

‘’Are you awake, Dean?’’

Castiel’s head was hovering in between the door and its frame, causing a line of light from the bunker’s hallway to fall on Dean’s bed near his face, too near for Dean’s taste.

‘’I am now.’’

He heard Castiel close the door, followed by light footsteps that stopped by the side of his bed he was turned away from. The cool air hit his back as he felt the sheets lift and the bed give.

‘’Cas what are you doing?’’ Dean mumbled and started to turn around but as soon as he was on his back a strong arm swung over his torso and another warm body pressed tightly against his side.

‘’What the hell. Cas?’’ Dean turned his head only to be met by a headful of dense dark hair. He was fully alert now, his breathing rapid and shallow, his neck and ears hot with blood. But the angel stilled with his cheek flat on Dean’s chest and a leg tangled in between Dean’s.

‘’Cas?’’ Dean tried after a silent minute. His heart was still racing but Castiel seemed to be asleep contently. And even though Dean knew angels don’t sleep, he hugged him just slightly closer to himself and closed his eyes. Sleep only came with the early morning hours.

*

Castiel was gone when he woke up. They didn’t talk about it throughout the day. But the moment Dean’s body was setteled in his bed again, Castiel was slipping into the dark room barefoot. He didn’t say a word this time but instead snuggled into Dean’s arms and dug his face into Dean’s neck. His breath was soft and warm on his skin.

‘’Cas?’’ Dean’s voice was quiet and tense but the man in his hold did not respond. And Dean let it go.

*

Sleeping with Cas turned into a steadfast routine. Neither of them ever brought it up, they investigated and worked cases the same as before. But come nightfall Dean would wait in his room and Cas would come, and he’d claim Dean’s body and curl around his limbs. He’d breathe into his skin until it was hot and wet and Dean could’ve sworn he felt Cas kiss his neck ever so tenderly once right before he drifted off.

And Dean would wait every day for the night to come for it was the one good thing in his messed up life. Until one day Castiel didn’t come. And Dean convinced himself Cas was just busy with something, and truly so the next evening the angel was tucked safely in his arms.

But then Castiel didn’t show up once more. And neither did the next day. And gradually, over the weeks, he stopped coming at all.

Dean was angry and confused. He tossed and turned at night, rarely even slept because he didn’t want to sleep alone anymore, but then said nothing of it to Castiel. They went back to how it all was before as if nothing’s changed. Except everything had.

So when Dean found a note on his bed one day, just as he was about to turn in, his breath hitched a little. Without hesitation he picked it up and read it.

  Dean,

  I’ve been sensing your distress and I want you to know that I am sorry for it       being my doing. I was trying to make you understand what in words I could       never tell you.

  That you crept into my heart uninvited yet I accepted you blissfully. That you     showed me what it is like to have something I never thought attainable. That     you then had me waiting on your call so that I might see you again. You did       little to conquer but I fell to you still.

  And with each day I fought it less. And with each day I cherished it more. Until   one day I couldn’t live without it.

  But then you would not call me that often. And you would dismiss me over         and over. You’d throw me out of your home. You would build walls and you’d     forget me until what’s left is coercive talks and hunting plans.

  And yet I still count the days until you come to me again, like you used to all     these years ago. And I shall see you then.

  Your loyal friend,

  Castiel

Dean put down the letter and gripped the edges of his bed tightly. The sheets on it were unmade and the mattress vacant.

The corners of his mouth twitched up ever so liglty.

He needed to go find his angel.


Author’s note: This drabble’s motive is also a fictional projection of canon Destiel as it is written in the same way as the development of Dean and Castiel’s relationship over the seasons; from establishing in s4, forming attachement, the very peak in s8, to the gradual drop and its current depression. Our happy ending, however, is yet to be dated.