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Castiel stood over Dean’s bed, watching him sleep. He didn’t normally do this, but something drew him to Dean and he appeared, gazing at the sleeping hunter’s face. Sam was away, they must have had some sort of argument. Dean shifted in his sleep and muttered something incomprehensible. Cas sighed, watching him turn and sprawl his arms out on the bed.
“Sit down on the bed, do it,” a voice piped up in his head. “Go on, he won’t wake up,” it pressed Cas closer to the bed. He wanted to reach out and stroke Dean’s honey hair, press his hand to the handprint he left when he raised Dean from Perdition. He couldn’t control it, he felt incredibly drawn to the sleeping man on the bed in front of him.
Cas finally sat down on the bed, next to Dean’s face. He mumbled something about pie and shifted a bit, but didn’t realise there was someone sitting over him. Cas stretched out his hand and withdrew it right before he touched Dean’s hair. He was very unsure about his actions, he didn’t want Dean to be angry at him. But he was there, and he was beautiful as he slept.
“Come on, do it! He might enjoy it. Stroke his hair,” the voice's whisper echoed in Cas’ head. He carefully stretched out his hand again and lightly ran his fingers through Dean’s hair. Dean shifted again, and scratched his cheek in his sleep. Cas exhaled, relieved that Dean didn’t wake. He continued stroking Dean’s hair softly, and smiled to himself, thinking “he is so beautiful when he is asleep.” Cas wondered why Dean is against being watched over when he sleeps; it’s safer this way, and Cas gets to watch his favourite hunter.
Suddenly, Dean grunted and turned his head slightly, opening his eyes, and this is when Cas realised that he got carried away and woke the hunter up. He considered disappearing, leaving straight away, but Dean grabbed hold of his arm.
“Hello, Dean,” Cas said, with his usual gruff voice.
“Mmmh… Cas, what are you doing here?” Dean’s voice was slightly slurred and saturated by sleep.
Cas had no idea what to say. Nothing came into his mind, except the little voice that murmured, “Kiss him. Do it! Press your lips against his, come on!” Cas realised that he was already leaning over the hunter’s face, inches away. He couldn’t stop himself.
“Cas? What are you doing?” Dean’s eyes widened slightly as Cas lowered his head towards him. “Seriously, Cas, what are you playi-” he was cut off as Cas’s lips pressed against his. Dean was shocked and befuddled, but man did this feel good. Cas’ lips were so soft, and his stubble was scratching Dean’s chin in a pleasant way. He let go of Cas’ arm and put his hand on the back of Cas’ neck, as if to make sure he doesn’t escape this strange but wonderful moment.
Cas felt the euphoria build inside him like an intoxication. Dean’s smooth lips were kissing him back, and Dean seemed to be enjoying this. “See, I told you this wouldn’t be a problem,” the voice piped up in his head again. Cas smiled slightly into the kiss and put his hand on Dean’s face, stroking his cheek gently. As suddenly as he kissed Dean, he pulled away and gazed at him lovingly, still stroking his cheek.
“Cas, what the-” Dean started, but the angel was gone with the barely audible sound of fluttering wings. “Son of a bitch,” Dean breathed, and smiled to himself. He would never forget this delightful moment with his beloved angel.