Purple Sheets
Dean woke up in a start. Initially, it was the feeling of a minimal hangover. Then, it was the sun shedding light of the unfamiliar bedroom.
It took probably a full minute for everything to come flooding back, for the panic to subside.
He was at Castiel's, the guy from the bar. The really sweet guy from the bar. He was in his bed,in his purple sheets,while Cas was on the couch.
Not how his nights usually went.
Dean sat up and waited for his head to adjust to the movement. Other than a headache, the typical hangover symptoms didn't apply.
He wondered if Cas was up yet. He stood, and looked around. The curtains were wide open, splaying light all over the king bed. The wall closest to the door had a painting on it, but other than that they were bare.
Dean rubbed at his eyes and made his way into the living room.
Castiel was there, on the couch, sleeping soundly with his arms over his chest.He was even snoring lightly.
Dean chuckled.He had a decision though.
What was the protocol for "I crashed at your house after an almost hookup"?
Was that when he leaves quickly, getting in his car and zooming down the road before other woke? Or when he stays for a hopefully not too awkward breakfast?
Dean opted for the latter because Cas had left too many questions unanswered.
Like, why had Cas even been there last night?
Why did he avoid the topic of his writing so much?
Why did he kiss him so passionately and be able to turn it off so quickly?
Why was Dean so interested in him?
Dean was just wondering about where he should go to wait, when Cas stirred.
He let out a quiet groan, and then stretched. His eyes opened, and landed on Dean. "Up early?" He asked, his voice managing to get rougher and heavier with sleep.
"Is 11 early?"
Cas smiled sleepily and stretched again. He sat up, and arched his back slightly to release the tension that had built up from sleeping on a couch. "You were watching me." He commented, seemingly un-bothered. His hair was messier than the night before, which Dean had previously deemed impossible.
"Not really, kinda, I mean-" Dean stammered. Cas stood up and wandered,seemingly aimlessly, but wound up in front of his coffee pot. It was like the path was permanently etched into his mind. "For like a minute. Sorry?"
Cas waved his hand dismissively, a mirrored action from the night before. "I was watching you for most of the night. Do you drink coffee?"
"Black." Dean said, watching as Cas moved methodically to set everything up.
"You're crazy." Cas responded, a playful comment with oddly serious undertones.
"Why's that?"
"You gotta have it with a flat spoon of sugar. Too bitter." Cas blinked his eyes a few times, still trying to wake up.
Dean shook his head incredulously. "It's the perfect morning pick me up as is, dude."
Cas chuckled, taking out a mug and pouring the dark liquid in and passing it to Dean. He repeated the action once more, but adding in flat tablespoon of sugar and stirring it in. Once Dean was sure the clinking of metal to ceramic was going to make his head explode, Cas stopped and took a sip.
"How are you not dying?"
"Already with questions? Um. Headaches happen a lot. I just deal." The way he said 'deal' made it seem like he'd never used the phrase before. Like it was foreign.
Dean took a long sip from the mug and closed his eyes, loving the hot feeling of it sliding down his throat."You're an interesting dude."
"Thank you?" Castiel responded only when he'd finished his own sip.
"You're acting like we do this every morning. We met last night."
"How am I supposed to react?" It was a genuine question.
"I don't know,man. I assumed a helluva lot less casual."
"Sorry to disappoint." Cas took another drink. "Is this where you ask the questions you were talking about last night?"
Why not? Might as well, before heading home. "Why'd you come to the bar?"
"Miniature pity party." His answer was short, but it didn't have any bite to it.
"Oh? 'Zat why you didn't answer any questions about writing?"
Cas nodded behind his mug.
"What happened?"
Cas pinched one eye closed,furrowed his brows, and looked at the ceiling in thought. His eye slowly opened when his mouth did, to speak. It definitely wasn't cute. "Um. Writing's hard? Too much effort, minimal reward?"
Dean nodded. "Fair enough."
Cas raised an eyebrow in Dean's direction. "I'd think so. That all of your questions?"
Dean's fingers drummed against his own arm, which were both crossed over his chest loosely. "How'd you go from kissing me the way you did, to having me take the bed?"
Cas almost choked on his coffee. He hoped Dean didn't notice. He tried not to sputter through his response. "U-uh. Conscious kicked in? I don't.. I don't know I guess I just. Did?"
And for the first time since they met, it was Cas at a loss for words.
"'Cause that's not too rom-com-y."
"It happened though, script free."
"Of course it did." Dean sipped at his coffee. "One more."
"Shoot." Cas said, seemingly suddenly aware that he was still in a suit, as he looked himself over and let out a sigh.
Dean suppressed a smile. "What now?"
Once Castiel was done being embarrassed, he let out a hum. "Now? That's a good question. I've been calling the shots, why don't you take this one?"
Dean rolled his eyes playfully. "Passing the hard questions onto me."
"Mhm."
"I think. I go home. And you come back to the bar if you wanna try this all again."
Cas took that for consideration. "Try what all?"
Dean wasn't sure. "Use your imagination."
"In that case. It sounds like a plan."