destiel one shot - first night sharing a bed
cas turns into a human for the first time. all seems okay at first, but dean notices he’s anxious when the first night starts approaching, he asks what’s wrong. cas admits that he’s never had to sleep before & he’s scared being off-guard & unconscious. dean thinks for a minute, observing his best friend’s shaky hands, realizing he’s never seen that before.
dean offers to share his bed to keep him safe. promising that if anything happens, he’s got a gun under the pillow and a habit of jumping out of bed. just to keep him safe. also … maybe dean’s a little anxious at letting cas out of his sight on his first night being human too.
cas is taken aback, but when he sheepishly nods, dean knows he offered the right solution. he ignores all the screaming thoughts in his head about the “implication”….no. he doesnt need to think about that. he just needs to help cas. all he needs is cas to be okay. that will make everything okay.
so when its time for bed, cas gets comfy… quick. dean tries to convince himself that there isn’t eagerness. no, its just friends helping eachother.
dean tries to ignore the butterflies in his tummy and the “thats not happening” feelings he’s torturing himself with. “no, no, he’s just my friend. i’m just helping”.
he joins beside him and almost immediately notices cas is worried. dean soothes him when they hit the pillow. cas starts getting panicky and breathing hard, against better judgement and an internal butterfly-fight, dean grabs his hand to help and starts rubbing little circles on the back of cas’ hand with his thumb.
they stay like that, wordlessly, until dean hears a whispered “thank you” before cas’ breathing starts evening out, relaxing. he doesn’t realize it, but they fall asleep that way, holding hands. he also doesn’t realize it until he jolts awake hours later, momentarily jumping up and seizing at the sight of his best friend, sleeping in bed beside him. but he remembers. it’s okay, it’s safe, it’s him.
he relaxes back against the headboard, under their shared duvet, sheepishly turning to observe the sleeping ex-angel while he can’t notice. he stares. and stares. he’s never seen cas look so at peace. he’s never seen the way his eyelashes fall against his cheeks. he’s never noticed the way his breath catches at the edge of an inhale, he’s never noticed cas’ hair so fluffy and strewn across his forehead, he’s never noticed how small; but sweet he looks off-guard, and he’s realizing he’s simply never noticed the angel rested. he’s always usually so on edge, so masked, scouring room corners for threats. now he looks like pure innocence.
now he sleeps cuddling a duvet to his nose, a sight resembling a baby animal seeking a cozy nest, a sight that’s tearing a hole open of adoration in deans chest. he catches himself staring and smiling warmly, awkwardly coughing it away, yet…. he stares again. he’s so pretty.
he clearly feels safe here. dean thinks, his chest swelling wider and wider until there’s a tunnel dean turns away from.
he stares and thinks about how pretty he looks, and “hey, im just appreciating a friend and the fact he’s okay! its fine!”, but he stares until his mind drifts to claimed sides of beds, shared morning coffee’s, arms wrapped against waists - oh.
he panics, quietly gets out of bed. he walks until all he can think of is the feeling and weight of holding his hand to sleep. “stop it” he thinks and turns into a coffee shop; not thinking before requesting the honey drizzle in cup two, not thinking while he walks back to their room faster than he left, not thinking while he smiles at the sight he walks in on, not thinking while he reaches down and shakes his ex-angel awake, not thinking as he stifles a smile at the still-asleep yawn he stretches out (“its fine. its fine”), and Definitely not thinking before shaking cas fully awake and Definitely not thinking about the chance of cas sleep-swinging at him in a fit of first-ever-morning grumpies. and Definitely spilling coffee on his pants and yelping amongst cas’ profuse and confused, sleepy apologies.
“alright … not a morning person.” dean laughs, staring down at a very sheepish ex-angel. imagining more wake-ups together and honey-coffee scented spills, he finally allows his chest to swell. staring down at the angel and letting the smile break across his face, he says. “we’ll work on that.”
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