Disclaimer: I claim no ownership - I write for fun, not for profit.
Set in season 5. Closer to the end than the beginning.
Fair warning: there is no kinky sick person sex. Just a little bit of cute.
"Sam!" Dean cried hoarsely. "Sam! We need pie!"
"Would you just… No!" Sam said angrily, flying into the room, his hands clenched into fists as his sides. "No, Dean, you do not need pie. You need to lay down and get well!"
"He is right, Dean," Castiel agreed, before sneezing lightly. "You are sick."
"And what are you?" Dean asked irritably, turning towards Castiel. They were both tucked tightly into the big double bed, sitting up against two firm pillows each. Dean had on a t-shirt and boxers, a box of tissues and an old knit scarf on the bedside table to his right. Castiel, who had been worrying over Dean like a mother hen for days, had finally succumbed to the bug and – though he protested that he was not sick – had agreed to at least lay down, just to help keep an eye on Dean. No one wanted to ask if angels could get sick – though Dean did keep making jokes about wing-rot.
"I am not sick," Castiel replied, and Sam couldn't help but notice he sounded just a shade defensive. "I am helping Sam care for you."
"Oh, is that why you're in the bed, too? Because you're fine? You're just keeping an eye on me?"
Castiel looked at him without blinking and said, with no sign of irony, "Yes."
Dean scowled and looked away. "If you're going to stay in here, you could at least take off that damn trench coat."
"Hmm." Castiel looked down, fingering his tie absently.
"Just be glad he took off his shoes," Sam said wearily.
They were children - big, annoying children. All Dean did was complain about feeling poorly, ask for pie, and bicker with everyone. He had actually resorted to playing "I'm-not-touching-you" with Castiel earlier, and it took Sam yelling and threatening the Impala for Dean to finally stop. It would be so much easier to keep them separate while they were both getting well.
But neither one seemed to want that.
He'd suggested it – more than once – but neither Dean nor Cas seemed willing to move. Dean hedged, hemmed and hawed, giving excuses that even a child could see through. Aggravated, Sam had given up on his brother and had turned to Cas.
Who said simply, "No. If I am here I can better watch over Dean."
And damn it all if Dean hadn't actually looked pleased.
Sam had stormed out after that, leaving Dean and his angel alone. Whatever. If they wanted to have kinky sick person sex, that was entirely their business; Sam wanted no part.
Dean had not been pleased when Sam had said that out loud.
"I am comfortable," Castiel said. "I see no reason – "
"Because it's weird," Dean said. "Nobody just goes to bed in their clothes and a coat. Sam, stop being such a bitch and help me convince him."
"Will it get you to stop bugging me about pie?"
Dean thought hard for a moment. "Probably not."
Sam rolled his eyes. "Sorry, Dean; Cas' clothes aren't my problem."
"Dude, just take it off."
"No. I don't see any reason to."
"Aren't you hot?"
"I'm fine, Dean."
"C'mon, you'll be more comfortable. That's gotta be… itchy."
"It is not itchy."
"Come on, Cas, it's a little itchy."
"No, it isn't."
"Just take it off."
"No, Dean, I am staying in my clothes."
As soon as Dean starting tugging on Castiel's sleeve, Sam decided it was high time to go get pie.
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