Where's The Angel?

Prompt: Zip Me (got this one from a few people, so I did this one next! Not sure if it’s what you were looking for… >_<)

Dean closed the door quietly, just in case Cas had waited up for them. The trio took turns staying behind in the bunker, just so someone was always present if another hunter called in with a question only the Men of Letters library could answer.

Sam gave him a tired smile, a nod, and headed off in the direction of his room. The hunt had been a routine salt and burn, but the ghost had gotten the drop on Sam and flung him into a nearby tree after they dug her up. Sam’s ribs were bruised, but thankfully nothing had broken. They didn’t have angel healing on tap anymore.

Not that Dean would trade this for the world.

As he had suspected, Cas had tried waiting up for them. The former angel was curled up on the couch in his secondhand jeans and a Tshirt, fast asleep. Dean smiled softly and set his duffel bag down. He could retrieve it in the morning.

“Come on, you big baby,” he whispered, careful not to wake Cas up as he slid an arm under his shoulders and his knees and lifted him up. Cas stirred but didn’t wake, leaning into Dean’s warmth with a contented sound.

Dean hummed quietly as he carried Cas down the hall to their room. The door was ajar, so all he had to do was nudge it with his foot until he could slip inside and kick it gently shut behind them. He hardly wanted the slam to wake Cas.

Dean set Cas down on his side of the bed. The former angel still didn’t wake, so Dean set about getting him changed into proper sleeping attire. Sleeping in jeans, while practical when on a hunt, wasn’t particularly comfortable.

Dena grabbed Cas’s favorite pajamas from where Cas had left them on the floor. They were black and gray plaid flannel, soft from years of use; they had been Dean’s first, and it always gave him a little possessive thrill when he saw Cas in them.

He tugged off Cas’s socks and then at the button on his jeans. Cas, more asleep than awake, lifted his hips when Dean pressed on the small of his back and allowed Dean to pull off the denim and replace it with flannel.

Dean eyed the Tshirt, then figured it could stay. He shucked his own outer layers and his jeans and crawled into bed next to Cas. Cas instantly invaded his space, at long last blinking into some state of awareness when his arms were wrapped around Dean and one of his legs had insinuated itself between Dean’s thighs.

“Dean?” he said, voice thick with sleep. Dean chuckled at the sight of half-lidded blue eyes looking up at him.

“Yeah,” he said quietly, wanting to let Cas fall back asleep rather than draw him into a conversation. That could wait for the morning.

Cas let his eyes fall shut again and he leaned in to press his mouth against Dean’s. It wasn’t quite a kiss, but close.

“‘elcome home,” Cas murmured, nuzzling his face into Dean’s neck and already drifting off again.

Dean kissed Cas’s forehead and shut his eyes.

“I’m back,” he whispered, then followed his angel into sleep.

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