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The lights are off, his sheets are freshly washed, his phone on the nightstand is even playing certified calming ocean sounds, and all of this is doing fuck all for Castiel’s sleep. He can close his eyes and lay in the dark for hours, he can shift from his left side to his right, from his back to his stomach, but he can’t actually fall asleep. With an irritated groan, he cuts off his countdown from 500 at 327 and dramatically rolls his head to the side to check the time. 11:49 blinks back at him in neon green digits, almost mocking him as he realizes it’s only been five minutes since he last checked. If he isn’t going to be able to get any rest, the night could at least make an effort to pass more quickly.
He flops his arm over his eyes and sighs loudly, contemplating pulling another all-nighter. But he can’t, he has that huge ass physics test tomorrow and he needs to pass and he can’t pass if he doesn’t get any sleep. When he was just a kid, his mom would warm up a glass of milk for him when he said he couldn’t sleep. She’d make him sit at the counter and watch as he drank it slowly and in the end, it kind of worked. It crosses his mind that he actually might have some milk in his apartment right now, and he could try that, but as he makes to push the sheets away and actually get out of bed, there’s a knock at the door.
His gaze shoots over to the clock, which now reads 11:53.
At first he’s sure he imagined it, because who the hell would be knocking at his door this late on a school night, but then it comes again.
When it comes a third time, he finally gets up, grabbing a pen off his nightstand as he walks towards the door. He holds it defensively in his fist as he cracks open the door, almost dropping it in surprise when an almost familiar voice says “Hey, Cas.”
He pulls the door open to reveal Dean Winchester in all his pajama-clad glory, bathed in the lackluster hall lighting that comes with living in a cheap apartment building. “What the hell, Dean? Do you even know what time it is?”
Dean looks like he’s going to say something important, but cuts himself off as he takes in Cas’ appearance. “Are those ninja turtles on your pajama pants?” Cas doesn’t dignify that with an answer. Of course they’re ninja turtles, anyone can see that. Dean almost squints. “What are you holding?”
“It’s a pen.” Cas says, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world, because it kind of is.
“Yeah, but why are you holding a pen?”
“For defense.”
“So if I was, like, a serial killer, you were going to stab me with a pen?” Dean laughs quietly. “Sounds effective.”
Cas runs a hand through his hair. “Shut up, it’s late. Why are you even here?”
“Listen, I know we’re not close friends or anything,” His neighbor smiles, almost apologetically, “But Victor and Jo are really goin’ at it over there and I was wondering if maybe I could crash on your floor for the night? If not, that’s totally cool. I hear the hallway carpets on the third floor are really soft.”
“That’s not fair.” Cas says with a frown.
“What’s not fair?”
“You can’t make it sound like you’re going to go sleep in the hallway if I say no. That’s like, preemptive guilt-tripping. I would feel horrible if I turned you away and you spent the evening in the hall.”
Dean laughs. “Is that a yes, then?”
Cas grimaces. “I suppose it is.”
“Hell yeah.” Dean fist pumps to himself as Cas lets him into the small apartment, locking the door again behind him. Inside, Cas grabs the extra pillow from his bed and a blanket that’s been sitting on his unused kitchen chair under a huge stack of papers for who knows how long and tosses them onto the carpet. For the first time since moving in, he regrets not having a couch.
“So, yeah, that’s all I have.”
Dean makes a sound of approval and basically drops onto the floor. “This is cool, man. As long as you don’t have three girlfriends hidden in the closet or something, this is cooler than my place.”
“Boyfriends, actually.” Castiel says quietly. He’s not even sure why he though the correction was necessary, but he said it nonetheless. “I mean, there are none, but if there were, they would be boyfriends.”
“Oh really?” Dean lifts his head, sounding intrigued. “Awesome. Same.”
“Oh.” Cas tries not to dwell on that. “Okay.” He doesn’t have time to dwell on that. Once he’s in his own bed again, he stares at the Dean-shaped lump on the floor. “Just so you know, I have a physics test at eight tomorrow, so I need to sleep now.” There’s a noise from the lump that may be some form of an okay. Great, Dean is sleeping on the floor and he still managed to get to sleep before Castiel.
The room seems quieter and it takes Castiel a moment to realize the sleep timer on his playlist of ocean sounds timed out and has been replaced by the sound of Dean breathing. It’s no more calming than the playlist, though, and Cas continues to toss and turn. He even tries counting sheep but doesn’t even reach 100 before he loses count. The clock mocks him as the minutes tick by, reading 12:24 the last time he checked. He’s in the process of transferring back to his right side, but trying to be as quiet about it as possible, as not to wake Dean, when the man himself interrupts him.
“Dude, what is up with you? Someone put itching powder in your bed or something?” His voice sounds rough, proving he was already asleep.
“No.” Cas says gruffly. “I just haven’t been able to fall asleep for the past few days.”
“Sucks, man.”
Cas doesn’t really know what to say in response to that, besides I know so he just lets the silence linger and closes his eyes. When he hears the blanket shifting against the carpet, he disregards it, assuming Dean is just moving to a more comfortable position. But then he opens his eyes and Dean is standing right above him and he’s about to lunge for his defense pen when Dean says “Don’t freak out.”
Cas glares at him. “Why would I be freaking out? I knew you were there.”
“You totally looked like you were gonna freak out.”
“I did not.”
“Yes, you did.” Cas opens his mouth to protest further, but Dean cuts him off, “Anyway, that’s not the point. I know a way that helps me get to sleep when I’m stressed, you said you had a physics test right? But you gotta tell me if you’re uncomfortable.”
Cas nods hesitantly, unsure of what he’s actually agreeing to. And then, after the pillow Dean throws almost hits him in the face, Dean is climbing into bed with him. Dean Winchester is climbing into bed with him. He bits his tongue to prevent himself from letting out some distinctly not appropriate noises as Dean basically crawls over him to get to the other side of the mattress. And then they’re lying face to face, noses almost touching, and in the faint light from that damn clock, Cas can see every freckle on Dean’s face, spreading over the bridge of his nose, under his eyes and across his cheeks. Call him crazy, but he never actually noticed how attractive Dean was, with his full lips and long lashes, until now. Perfect timing, Castiel.
“Is this okay?” Dean asks.
Cas nods, seemingly unable to find his voice.
“Turn around.” Dean whispers.
“What?” Intelligent, Cas. Really.
“Turn around.”
“I’m not having sex with you, Dean.”
Dean makes a face. “I’m not asking to have sex with you, I’m just gonna spoon the hell out of you.”
“Romantic.”
“Shut up, asshole. Turn around so we can cuddle.”
Cas gives a long-suffering sigh, just to make sure Dean knows how ridiculous he is, but shifts to his other side all the same. Dean’s arm wraps around his waist and he starts nosing at the fine hairs at the back of Cas’ neck, making the other man shiver.
“Jesus christ, why are you so cold, Cas?”
“I don’t know, why are you a human space heater, Dean?” Cas shoots back.
Dean presses his lips against the side of Cas’ neck, mumbles. “Don’t see why that’s a bad thing.”
Castiel thinks he should retort, or at least put a stop to whatever Dean is doing along his neck, but the warmth behind him is actually very nice. He’s almost positive he can feel Dean’s heartbeat from where his chest is pressed up along Cas’ back and it seems to be the perfect rhythm to fall asleep to.
***
Before he knows it, Cas’ alarm is blaring and he’s reaching out an arm to slap at the clock. It’s 7 am on a test day, and he’s actually feeling rested. As he tries to slip out of bed to shower, Dean’s arm tightens around his waist and he makes a soft sound of protest. Cas turns a little, untangling their legs as he does. “I have to go take that test now, Dean.” Dean doesn’t open his eyes, but Cas takes the loosening of his arm and the small nod as an acquiesce and kisses Dean on the cheek before he heads to the bathroom.
It isn’t until he’s toweling his hair dry that he realizes what he did and wonders if it was even okay. He thinks about it for a minute, but thinking hard in the morning before coffee always makes his head hurt more than it should, so as he picks a shirt from his grand total of three clean ones he plans to deal with it later. Just like he’ll deal with the clean laundry later. And the dishes piled up by the sink. There’s a lot of things he needs to deal with later.
As he’s walking out the door, it occurs to him to leave a note for the man still passed out peacefully in his bed. He scribbles a few words on a sticky note and leaves it on the nightstand where he hopes Dean will see, along with his spare key. Dean is trustworthy, and besides, it gives him an excuse to see Dean again. He casts one last look at him, spread out now to cover the entire bed, and smiles to himself before he shuts the door.
Dean,
I went to take my test. Lock the door behind yourself, please.
Cas
***
When Castiel returns to his apartment midafternoon, he’s strangely disappointed to find the door locked and the bed empty. He half-heartedly opens the fridge door, glances once over its meager contents, and shuts it. He’s turning to go find his laptop, maybe dick around on the internet for a bit, when he catches sight of a note on the table. More like three notes, actually, stacked on top of each other, because apparently Dean has rather big handwriting.
hey cas,
good luck on your physics test!! (kinda late but you get what i mean) if it goes well (or even if it doesn’t) do you wanna grab coffee sometime? i work at the shop in the campus bookstore but my shift is over at three if you wanna meet me there.
dean
p.s. i wrote this using your defense pen ;)
Cas smiles as he reads the note, then whips out his phone to check the time. 2:37, he can make it.
***
The fall leaves crunch underfoot as he make his way to the glass door of the campus bookstore. The warmth that flows through him as soon as he walks inside is reminiscent of Dean’s arms around him and he tries not to blush at the memory. Dean himself is still working behind the counter, making drinks while bopping his head to whatever song is playing over the store speakers, wearing his black apron over a t-shirt with the teenage mutant ninja turtles on it.
As soon as Cas reaches the front of the line, Dean’s face lights up. He rests his elbows on the counter. “Hey, Cas.”
Cas lifts an eyebrow. “I’m fairly certain that’s not your shirt.”
Dean grins. “Yeah, well, I spent the night with this super cute guy and he seemed pretty into the ninja turtles.”
“So you thought you’d take his shirt?”
“I thought I’d borrow his shirt, so I could politely return it to him the next night.”
“An excellent plan.”
“I thought so.” Dean leans back, looks up at the drink board. “So, what’ll it be, Cas?”
“I’m guessing you’re not on the menu.”
Dean laughs out loud. “Afraid not, man.”
“Then I’ll have the pumpkin spice latte, in the spirit of the season.”
Dean slaps the counter, “Coming right up.”
As Dean starts brewing the drink, Cas reaches for his wallet. “You didn’t tell me how much I owe you.”
Dean winks from behind the espresso machine. “On the house.”
A few minutes later, a yell of “One pumpkin spice latte for the dork in the trench coat!” rings through the store and Cas hurries over to claim it. Dean is waiting for him, a truly shit-eating grin on his face.
“Why am I the dork when you’re the one wearing the ninja turtles shirt?” He asks, reaching for his drink.
Dean slides the mug across the counter slowly, smiling. “Like you said, not my shirt. I’m off in, like, five minutes or as soon as Benny gets here, so if you just wanna take a seat, I’ll find you.”
“Okay, Dean.” Impulsively, Cas braces his hand against the counter and leans forward enough to press a quick kiss to Dean’s cheek again. It’s worth it just to see the blush spread out under his freckles. “See you in five minutes.”
As Dean returns to serving customers, Cas finds a place at a small table by a window and offers a soft smile to the heart drawn carefully on the surface of his coffee.