Chapter Text
When seven o’clock rolls around, Sam and Dean officially start their day. Sam’s already had breakfast and Dean is on his third cup of coffee. They chat for a while in the kitchen and Dean fries some bacon. So, the usual. At eight o’clock, the two of them migrate to the library. They have a potential case in North Dakota and Sam wants to make sure he has all the bases covered before they head out there. Dean’s pretty sure it’s gonna be another salt-and-burn type deal, but...the sightings are on reservation soil, so it’s best if they double check some Native American folklore for the region first. By nine o’clock Sam starts to wonder where Cas is, and Dean, though he won’t say so, is beginning to wonder the same. The angel is always up by about eight-thirty, so sleeping in until nine is a bit unusual. Frankly, Cas doesn’t need the sleep at all, but during his time spent as a human, he decided he liked sleeping, and has since made it a regular part of his routine.
By ten o’clock, there’s still no sign of Cas and apparently, some of the books in the library are missing. Of course, they just so happen to be the ones Sam needs. Dean may have mentioned the case to Cas over dinner the previous night and Cas may have taken it upon himself to do some of the research for them. It was a very nice gesture, one that Dean can greatly appreciate, since it means less reading for him. But now, go figure, Sam "The Jolly Green Nerd" Winchester wants his books back. And who does he send to go retrieve them? Dean. Obviously. After getting into a long argument about who has a lighter tread and who Cas seems to like better—and is therefore less likely to smite upon being woken up by—Dean finds himself walking down the hall towards Cas’s room. The door is shut, and everything on the other side of it is silent. Dean knocks softly.
“Hey, Cas, you awake in there?” he calls.
When there’s no reply, Dean grabs the doorknob and gently opens the door, poking his head inside. Cas is, in fact, not awake in there. The lights are on—both the lamp by his bedside, and the small one on his desk—but somehow the angel is still asleep. At his desk, of all places. For a moment, Dean pauses. It all looks so human. Cas is slumped over in his chair, arms folded on top of his desk with his head buried against the crook of his left elbow. There’s paper, pens, a couple journals, and several books scattered on the desk’s cramped surface. One of the books teeters precariously on the edge of Cas’s desk, next to his arm. Dean smiles to himself. Cas looks so peaceful when he sleeps.
It’s good to have Cas back in proper form, angel mojo and all that jazz. Dean would never imply that he doesn’t like Cas exactly the way he is, but...it’s kinda nice to see that some aspects of Cas’s time spent as a human have carried over. He still drinks coffee on occasion, and when he feels like it, he enjoys catching a few z’s. Dean carefully steps into the room, making sure not to startle the sleeping angel. Forget the saying about letting “sleeping dogs,” lie. Personal experience has taught him that the rare, sleeping angels are much more dangerous. Dean shuffles his feet a little as he walks towards Cas’s desk, then clears his throat, being sure to make enough noise to gradually alert Cas of his presence. Cas stirs lightly at the sound, then groans.
“Hey, buddy,” Dean says softly.
Cas snaps his head up, a piece of paper comically stuck to his forehead. He stares wide-eyed at Dean.
“It’s okay, it’s me,” Dean assures him, reaching out to place a hand on Cas’s shoulder.
“Dean?” the angel rasps.
“Morning, sleeping beauty.”
With his other hand, Dean removes the paper from Cas’s face, setting it down on the desk. Without thinking, Dean gently strokes his thumb over the lines the paper left on Cas’s forehead, smiling to himself. He feels Cas staring up at him and quickly stops.
“Sam and I were just wondering about you, you don’t normally sleep in this late. Wanted to make sure you were alright.”
Cas nods his understanding.
“I stayed up doing some research last night,” the angel mumbles. “I got bored and I guess I fell asleep...”
He yawns, then frowns.
“Actually...I think I might like to sleep some more.”
“Okay,” Dean says soothingly. “You can get some more rest.”
He glances over at the desk.
“But, uh...Sam kinda wants his books back though. If you don’t mind.”
Cas stares up at him groggily.
“Oh, right,” he murmurs after a while. “You can take whichever ones you need.”
He yawns again. Dean feels a little flutter in his chest. He really likes seeing Cas like this. All sleepy and unguarded. Before he can stop himself, Dean slides a arm around Cas’s shoulders.
“Why don’t you go lay down, and I’ll sort through the books, okay?”
Cas nods his agreement and gets to his feet. Half-asleep, he clumsily walks over to his bed, then has a seat on the edge. Since he’s already wearing comfortable clothes—a t-shirt, some sweatpants, and sneakers—Cas doesn’t need to get into anything more comfortable before getting into bed. He simply toes out of his shoes and socks, then slides under the covers, pulling them up to his chin.
“That’s better,” Cas slurs. “The desk wasn’t comfortable.”
“I’m sure it wasn’t,” Dean replies. “Well, you get some shut-eye. I’ll grab the books, and then I’ll go.”
“Alright, Dean.”
The angel smiles sleepily at him before settling in and closing his eyes. Dean forces himself to pay attention to the task at hand, scanning the books on Cas’s desk. Unfortunately, Dean finds himself getting distracted rather easily. The first time it happens, it’s because Cas rolls onto his side, now facing Dean. The movement pulls Dean’s attention away from the stack of manila files he’s been collecting, and he glances over his shoulder at the angel. Cas’s expression is calm, and his features are almost childlike in sleep. The sight tugs at Dean, and for a brief moment, he contemplates the idea of reaching out and touching Cas. Not in a weird way, obviously. Just...something small. Something like a quick ruffle of Cas’s hair, or a soft pat on his shoulder. Dean shakes himself out of his thoughts. Sleeping angels, he reminds himself. Best to just let sleeping angels lie. Dean turns his attention to the books on Cas’s desk.
He identifies a few of them as ones Sam had been looking for earlier that morning, and Dean stacks them together on the edge of the desk. Just as he’s about to pick them up, Cas mumbles something in his sleep. Dean slowly looks over his shoulder again. He watches, transfixed, as Cas mumbles a second time. It’s hard to make out what he’s saying, but it sounds like it’s in Enochian. The angel’s lips twitch slightly as he murmurs, and once more Dean is plagued by distracting thoughts. This time, he thinks about something other than gently patting Cas’s shoulder or running a hand through his hair. As he stares just a little too long at Cas’s lips, Dean thinks about kissing them. Just once. Just a quick little peck. But he quickly realizes that Cas might get angry if he catches Dean doing that. Or maybe...just maybe, Cas might kiss him back. Damn, that would be nice...To finally know the taste of Cas’s pink, pillowy—
Dean snaps his head back towards the desk. No, he scolds himself. Now is really not the time. Cas mumbles something again and Dean melts. Before he can stop himself, he lets out a low, agonized groan. He freezes, glancing quickly at the angel to see if he disturbed him. Thankfully, Cas is still sound asleep, nestled comfortably in his bed. Dean buries his face in his hands. Dear God, he’s in deep...