StellaRosaa

💤Sweet Dreams💤 Dean startled awake with a grunt, hand flying to his side, one leg still tangled in the sheets. "Woah HEY!" he yelped, blinking up into the very real, very present, very inappropriately close face of Castiel. The angel tilted his head. His hand - on Dean’s crotch - was warm. Firm. Entirely too comfortable. On his crotch. Dean's jaw was somewhere on the floor, never to be found again. Why was his hand on his - "I heard you praying for me in your dream," Cas said, completely deadpan. Dean’s brain short-circuited, still stuck on the horrifyingly sexy fact that his totally inappropriate celestial crush had his hand on his CRO- "I- that- wasn’t a prayer," he choked, trying and failing to dislodge himself with dignity. "That was- uh - private subconscious...stuff? What the fuck are you doing in my dreams!" "You were very convincing," Cas replied, finally lifting his hand but not backing away. His eyes flicked down meaningfully. "I felt...summoned." Dean, still blinking like someone had thrown a holy water balloon at his face, made a noise halfway between a cough and a scream. "This is why we need angel boundaries, man." "Should I go?" Cas asked, eyes wide, but he didn’t look particularly apologetic. Dean hesitated. Looked at Cas. Looked down. Then groaned, dragging a hand over his face. "At least buy me breakfast first." Cas momentarily squinted at Dean. “But it’s four a.m., Dea-" Dean let out a strangled groan and flopped back into his pillow. “God help me.” 💙💚💙💚💙💚

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