Words: 4822
Pairing: Destiel (Dean/Cas)
Other Characters: Sam, Gabriel
AU: Hospital; Dean's been in a car accident, and wakes up in the hospital. Castiel is his roommate.


Cold. Dean was cold. Not like the 'Oh my fingertips are cold because I was outside' cold, more like 'Am I naked? My thighs are fucking freezing.' He felt sick, and any thought of where he was totally blanked on him. He heard voices, numerous voices, actually. One low and gravely caught his ears attention.

"Gabe, could you stop sending male prostitutes to my hospital room? Please, it's not funny anymore, the nurses are starting to look at me like I'm some kind of crazed fuck addict. And anyway, I'm not physically healthy enough to have sex. Not to mention it's unsanitary for them to be here." The man said, and Dean pushed past all the sex stuff to listen that he was in a hospital. Why was he in a hospital?

He opened his eyes and made an uncomfortable noise at how bright the room was, artificial light from lamps overhead, and sunlight shining through from the other side of the room, pathetically tried to be masked by a thin curtain. He turned his head and saw the outline of a man, and he thought it was the man he'd heard before. Dean tried to sit up, and he felt tugging, beeping on a monitor increasing. A nurse walked quickly into the room, looking a bit worried for him.

"Sweetheart, just lay back. It's okay, you're in the hospital. Calm down, calm down." She set her hands on his shoulders, trying to lay him back down.

"No, I gotta... What the hell's going on? Let me up," He pushed himself into a sitting position, moving past the nurse, effectively dropping to the floor as he tried to stand. Wires ripped from him, a heart monitor flat-lining because it disconnected from his skin, and more nurses flooded in the room. He looked himself over, wondering where his clothes went and who the hell undressed him, and scowling at the thick cast around his leg, from his knee all the way down to his foot.

"Are you okay, sir?" One nurse asked, strong arms grabbing him from under the arms and standing him up. He helped Dean onto the bed again.

"No." Was his response, "What happened to me?"

"You fractured your tibia, and broke a rib. You were in a car accident." Another said. He thought for a moment, racking his brain. That night, the rain was coming down hard, and Ruby was cowering in the backseat. A flash of lightning and a loud crack of thunder made her whimper and jump into the front, trying to hide herself under his arm. He remembered looking down at her and telling her it was okay, that they would be home soon. He remembered looking back up and seeing headlights coming his way, then nothing. Blank.

"My dog. Is my dog okay?" He looked up at them with wide eyes, not caring as they pulled the front of his gown down to reattach the heart monitor to him.

"She came in with you on the stretcher. She was fine. Your brother..." She glanced to the chart, "Sam, took her home."

He nodded, relieved. Sam would take care of her, "When can I get outta here?"

"In a while, Mr. Winchester. Just relax for now. Do you know what year is it, who's the president, things like that?" She pulled out a pen and flipped a page on the chart.

"Yeah. I'm Dean Winchester, it's two-thousand eleven, and that Obama guy's president." He answered, watching her write something down, "Where am I?"

"Sioux Falls General." The male nurse that helped him said, "And it's almost time for lunch."

"Okay... Thank you." Dean nodded, letting them sit the bed up so he could rest comfortably, helping cover himself back up so he wouldn't be so damn cold. They got him situated and made a promise to bring pain medication before telling him to stay put. One nurse pulled back the thin curtain before they all left the room.

Dean looked over at the only other person in the room. He was still on the phone, seemingly trying to end the conversation. He looked roughed up, Dean noticed, a bruise on his cheek bone, and he was wearing a gown similar to his own. He watched him, listened to him, ignored the pain in his leg. The guy was attractive; slightly fair skin, full lips that were saying curses to whoever was on the other line, chuckling softly after. Scruff littered his defined jaw, and his hair was dark, mussed a bit from what looked like sleep. He looked comfortable, the phone wedged in between his cheek and shoulder, and Dean wondered how long he'd been here. The guy looked his way, bright blue eyes meeting his own before Dean tore his gaze away, embarrassed for staring.

"Yeah, Gabriel, I'll talk to you later." He said, taking the phone away from his ear and hanging it up, eyes still on Dean. He looked him over, then spoke in a raspy voice, "Nice display, falling out of bed like that. Couldn't see it all because of the curtain, though."

Dean looked back over to him, not sure of what to say, "...Thanks?"

The man chuckled, "I'm Castiel."

"Castiel? Really?" Dean asked. Who would name their kid that?

"Yeah, my parents were stoners." Castiel shrugged, smile on his lips.

"Oh... I'm Dean." He replied.

"You've been out cold for two and a half days." Castiel said, and Dean thought for something to say.

"Gabriel likes to send you male prostitutes." He commented, and Castiel laughed softly, holding his side. Dean smiled.

"Yeah, he thinks they'll help me loosen up. Too bad there's too much pain medication for me to get it up, huh?" The dark haired man chuckled at the other's surprised expression, "I'm kidding... Sort of."

Dean nodded, not helping the small chuckle passing his lips. This guy was okay, and he was pretty sure he was gay, which was a plus. Over the next few days, they bonded, watching television; the same channel on their own tv's at the same time. Having small, childish food fights that would have the nurses reprimanding them, and Dean felt young. So, so young and happy when he was around Cas. Another prostitute came into their room, looking for Cas, who was sitting on the end of Dean's bed, next to his leg in the cast. They were playing cards, and the guy stood in front of them, hand on his hip.

"Which one of you sexy boys is Castiel?" He asked, eyes raking over them both.

"That would be me. But your... services are no longer needed. He woke up from his mini coma a few days ago, and last night... He pounded me so hard, I'm still sore today, even with that broken leg," Castiel said, grabbing Dean's hand and setting it against his crotch, "Right, baby?"

Dean gulped at the feeling of Cas' flaccid cock cupped in his hand through the thin layers of gown and boxers cotton, and he nodded quickly, wetting his lips, "Yeah, I can hardly keep my hands off him sometimes."

Castiel made a soft moaning sound when Dean tightened his hand a little, "Careful, babe, don't make me hard again."

"I don't share." Dean said, looking up to the prostitute, his expression protective.

"Well, then... Maybe I should be going." The prostitute walked off with a bitchy expression, heels clicking on the hard floor. Castiel chuckled, then reached up, cupping the other's cheek in his hand. He wet his lips and pulled him forward, letting their lips meet briefly, brushing and pushing softly before he pulled away.

"C-Cas?" He removed his hand from the other man, looking at him with semi wide eyes, mouth hanging open slightly.

"Yeah?" Blue eyes looked up at Dean, already starting to play his turn in the card game, smiling at the nickname he'd been given.

"I-I... Nothing." He felt a warmth radiate throughout his whole body, starting in his chest. He embraced it. So, yeah, maybe he'd developed some feelings for his hospital room mate over the little while he'd been here, and they'd become great friends.

"'Kay. So, hey, when is your brother coming to visit again?" Cas asked, trying to peek at Dean's cards.

"Uh, tomorrow." He said, licking his lips, tasting the other man on them. And unlike Cas, he could get it up, and was rapidly. He pulled the blanket closer to him and breathed deeply, trying to focus on the card game. His eyes had other plans, though. They veered away from the old playing cards, looking over at Cas' hands holding his own cards; long fingers curling around them protectively, hiding the faces from Dean's view. His eyes panned out, looking at the gown he was wearing, drawn up because of how he was sitting, creamy skin of his upper thigh showing, the dark fabric of his boxer-briefs peeking out.

"Dean? ...Dean?" He looked up to see Castiel staring at him, head tilted to the side just so, which made Dean's heart swell. He always loved when he did that.

He smiled, "Yeah?"

"Are you okay?"

"I'm great."

The next day, Sam walked out of the elevator, backpack over his shoulder, searching for the room he knew his brother was in. He took long strides down the hall, finding the room rather easily, seeing his brother trying to walk on crutches, another man standing in front of him and helping him along, both of them chuckling. Dean stumbled and Sam was ready to go catch him, but the other man did it instead, grabbing him around the waist, hugging him. Sam knocked on the door and they both looked over, Dean smiling.

"Hey, Sammy." Dean parted from Cas and tried shakily to get over to his brother, although partly failed. Sam helped him sit on his bed.

"What's up, gimpy?" He chuckled, sitting on the edge of the bed, careful of his big brother's leg.

"I'm fine, you bitch. How's Ruby?" Dean asked, glancing to Cas, who sat back on his own bed.

"Missing you. But she's okay. So... crutches, huh? Looks like fun." Sam said, gesturing to them.

"Yeah, lots of fun," He chuckled, looking over at his friend, "Cas was just helping me try to use them. I only got them this morning, when they took him off his medicine."

Castiel smiled at the mention of him, and got up, holding a hand out to the younger Winchester, "Hi. He sucks at using crutches, you're gonna need a wheelchair when you take him outta here."

"Hi... Cas. I'm Sam, and that's good to know." They shook hands, Sam liking that his usually anti-social brother made a friend. The dark haired man nodded and smiled, and Sam looked back at Dean, seeing his brother watching every move of his friend... Were they more than friends? He cleared his throat and Dean broke the gaze, looking up at his brother.

"Yeah?"

"Okay, so, uh... My car was wrecked up, but it was insured. So, you don't owe me anything. I'm just glad you're okay." Sam told him, patting his shoulder. Dean rolled his eyes and opened his arms, both of them chuckling before they were hugging. Castiel watched them, smiling softly to himself at their display of affection. It reminded him of himself and his own brothers.

The three of them talked for a while, Sam and Cas helping Dean into a wheelchair so they could all go down to the cafeteria for lunch. Dean struggled slightly, gripping Castiel's hand as he settled into the chair that his little brother was holding still. Sam noticed that he didn't let go immediately after he got safely seated. Cas wore his tan trench coat, which Dean commented that it was too big for him, but he thought he looked cute nonetheless.

"So, what are you gonna pick me up in when I get out?" Dean asked randomly as they went down the hall.

"The Impala." Sam shrugged, and Dean grimaced, "Don't make that face."

The older brother sighed and looked over at his friend, noticing the undone button by the beginning of the sleeve. He reached a hand over and tried to button it, vaugely wondering what Cas' hands felt like. The other man looked down at the tugging of his sleeve, seeing Dean's hands, taking it in his own without thinking. Dean felt electricity run through their hands, up his arm to shock his heart in a delightful way, that made him smile. He looked up and saw Castiel had a smile on his lips as well. If he was still wearing that heart monitor, it would have embarrassed him. Sam couldn't even hold back a smile as he rolled Dean through the open cafeteria doors.

Sam gave them their space, watching as Cas helped Dean get what he wanted off the counter. He only helped by holding Dean's tray while Dean held Cas' and Cas pushed him over to a table. Sam noticed that Dean had gotten a few things that Dean himself didn't like, but Sam did. He chuckled and followed them, setting the tray down and seating himself across from the two. Dean pulled a face, and Cas looked at him in concern.

"Leg itches." Dean told him, calming him down. Castiel reached down, into the pocket of the wheelchair and grabbed out a pencil, handing it to him.

"God, you're the best."

Sam smiled at that, because he knew what it meant. He cared for Cas, and he definitely noticed that Cas cared for his big brother. He couldn't help liking him, not with affection like this. Dean smiled and tossed an apple at his little brother, giving him a look. Sam shrugged and bit into it. While they ate, Dean chuckled over the stories told about Castiel and his brothers, and Sam told a few of their own. Cas also talked about when he came out, and how he figured it out; in great detail, in Sam's opinion. But he didn't mind, his brother's friend was just the over-sharing, explicit, type of person... Perfect match for Dean.

"...And then I told my Dad, and he said he didn't care as long as he had grandchildren." Cas finished, and Dean nodded. Dean had stayed closeted for a while, especially in high school, he told Castiel. Sam told him that he knew, of course, when he found Dean making out with a guy named Ash in their tree house. Cas laughed at that, and Sam swore he saw Dean blush.

He changed the subject after, revealing that Sammy swung both ways. Sam explained that, in his off time, he loved to draw, and he found both body types alluring. Cas joked about his brother Gabriel being a snarky jackass who would love to be painted nude with a lollipop in his mouth. They finished eating, took care of their trays, and Sam pushed the chair back to their room, the other two holding hands as they went.

"Okay, let's get you back into bed." Cas said as they walked in, discarding his coat onto his bed before going to help Dean. Sam wheeled him over to the bed and helped him turn around, Cas holding his gown so it wouldn't snag on anything, holding tight with his other hand around Dean's bicep. The older Winchester didn't like to be manhandled, but he appreciated the help. His little brother went to fix his pillow and Cas gently took his cast and helped get it onto the bed. Dean couldn't help shivering as Cas' calloused and warm fingertips ghosted along his knee and part of his thigh absentmindedly. Dean reached and pulled the blankets up, Cas' hands moving to help him with that.

"Thanks, guys. I'm a pain in the ass, but thanks." Dean told them, smiling.

Cas chuckled, "You're not a pain in the ass."

"Your leg's broken, Dean. Don't worry about it." Sam rubbed his shoulder, giving him a grin, "But you're always a pain in the pass to me."

The older brother rolled his eyes, but smiled anyway. Cas headed to the bathroom with a mutter of 'I gotta hit the head', and once the door was closed, Sam sat down and gave a smug look.

"You like him." He accused playfully.

"Well, he is my roommate." Dean told him, shrugging to hide his feelings.

"Dean, come on. You two were holding hands, for God's sake. And the hugs, and stolen glances, and smiles-"

"Woah, woah... 'Stolen glances'? Dude, calm down." He held up his hands.

"I'm serious. Do you not see how he looks at you? How you look at him? I... I haven't seen you happy with someone in a while. It looks like he makes you happy." He told his big brother truthfully.

"Sam..."

Cas came out of the bathroom, still drying off his hands, eyes catching Dean first and smiling, "So, it's almost time for Dr. Sexy. Sam, you gonna watch, too?"

"Uh, no. I should be going. I've got an eager girl that wants me to 'draw her like one of my french girls'." Sam smirked, listening to Cas chuckle. He hugged his brother, whispering, "Ask him to sit with you."

"I love you, too, Sam." Dean said as they pulled away, patting his brother on the shoulder.

"Really nice to meet you, Cas." The younger brother shook Castiel's hand and gave a genuine smile, getting one in return before he left. Dean thought for a moment before turning on his television. Cas started to his bed to do the same when he spoke up.

"Hey... You wanna sit with me this time?" The older man stopped, and Dean thought he was going to say no, until he turned and walked over, climbing in next to him.

"They took me off my meds, remember? Don't freak out if I pop a boner next to you." He said, smirk on those full lips as he slipped under the blanket with him.

"Ride me to get rid of it." The Winchester joked, and watched a tongue poke up, running across those lips. He swallowed thickly.

"I'll be sure to." Castiel said, in a voice that made Dean's spine shiver, but he tried to push the thoughts away as the Dr. Sexy theme song came on.

It was a rerun, but they still watched. Cas wasn't telling jokes or acting weird when they watched tv alone. He was calm, and affectionate. He cuddled into Dean's side, and he wrapped an arm around his shoulder, pulling him close. Cas smelt like the hospital soap, and something... different. He couldn't place what it was, but it made him feel at ease. He let his head drop closer and inhaled his hair, feeling it tickle his cheek, feeling the warm body scoot closer. He pressed a kiss to his temple, hearing a soft humming noise in response. The feeling in his chest grew even more, and Sam was right; Cas made him happy. He was completely content with Cas falling asleep next to him, and he thought he was.

Castiel was actually wide awake, liking the body heat and attention. This was one of the last times him and Dean would be alone in the hospital together, seeing as he was leaving tomorrow. He didn't have the heart to tell Dean, though. So, he just pretended to sleep soundly, letting Dean's fingertips trace patterns on his skin where part of his gown was undone. He savored it.

The next morning, Dean woke up, feeling cold. He looked next to him, seeing no Castiel. He looked over at the other's bed, and his heart started to race. It was empty; made up nice. It scared him. He pulled the blankets off and stood wobbly as he grabbed for his crutches, getting them under his arms. He started for the door, when he bumped into someone. He looked up, seeing worried blue eyes.

"Dean, what's wrong? You look pale." Castiel told him, setting a hand on his arm.

"I-I thought you left." He blurted, taking in the other's appearance; black suit and dress shoes, white shirt that looked a little too big for him, and a loose blue tie. A bag was over his shoulder, "You are leaving."

"Not without saying goodbye to you first." The dark haired man smiled softly, ushering him back to his bed. He reluctantly sat down, the urge to hold the other and never let go biting at him. But if he had to go... He had to go.

"My brother's in the lobby, so I can't stay much longer." He continued, and Dean nodded.

"Don't forget your coat." The Winchester reminded softly, and Cas chuckled a little. He walked over and took it off the wall hook, slipping it on as he strode back over to Dean.

"Yeah, wouldn't wanna forget this." He said. The brunette reached out, taking Cas' wrist and pulling it close so he could fix the undone button he didn't get to the day before. Castiel smiled sadly, "Thank you."

Dean just nodded. He let his hand go, but it moved to the side of his face, and he leaned into it, letting his head be tilted up. He met those bright blue eyes.

"You'll be okay, right?" Cas couldn't help himself as he let his thumb glide back and forth along Dean's jaw, searching the emerald eyes he'd come to really like.

"Yeah, of course." He forced out, wanting so bad for him to stay. Castiel gave a smile and hugged him before throwing his bag back over his shoulder.

"Bye, Dean. It was fun getting to know you." He gave a smile, and Dean nodded.

"Yeah, see you around, Cas." The Winchester said a bit weakly, waving to him. His friend nodded, then walked out the door. Dean stared at the place he disappeared for a while, he didn't know how long. He sighed, then leaned over, grabbing the phone off his bedside table and calling Sam.

"Sammy, he's gone." Was the first thing after Sam said hello, and the younger Winchester instantly thought the worst.

"What do you mean he's gone? Is he...?" He couldn't get out the last word, but Dean scoffed over the line.

"He's not dead, Sam. He got released; discharged. But... What if I never see him again? Fuck, I didn't even get his number." He slapped himself on the forehead. The line was silent for a moment, then Sam sounded calm.

"I knew you liked him."

"Of course I liked him, he was perfect!" Dean quipped angrily, just because he could. There was another moment of silence, "Sam, I'm sorry."

"It's okay. I just pulled up in the parking lot and I'm coming up to see you." He told him, then the line went dead. Dean sighed and put back the receiver, thinking about how dull his stay would now be without Cas. He should've done something to make it clear that he liked him. He should have kissed him. He would have loved to taste those lips again, made it good so Cas wouldn't forget him; wouldn't want to forget him. But he didn't kiss him, and Cas would forget him.

Sam jogged into the room, looking his brother over, "Hey."

"...Did you run up here?"

"Yeah."

"Why?

"For reasons..."

"You're an idiot."

"You won't say that later on."

The following days without Castiel in the other bed were boring, and frankly, depressing. The nurses felt sorry for him when they gave him his medicine in the morning, or when they checked up on him, and the doctor suggested staying a little while longer even though his rib would be completely healed in two days. He declined, saying he'd be fine, it would be better if he just got fixed up and left on the original date.

He tried to work on walking with the crutches, but he felt really unsure without someone there to catch him, or to make fun of him when he made weird faces as he tried to move certain ways. He missed his jokes. He missed the way he would laugh, and say his name; how his hand felt fitted with his, how he'd always touch his arm when he was trying to help him or was concerned for him. Fuck, he just downright missed that blue-eyed bastard, quirks and all. He even thought about asking the staff if they could give his number, but Sam said they couldn't because of confidentiality.

On the day of Dean's release, Sam brought him clothes, the jean cut on the leg so it would fit his cast. Sam gathered the information and medicine while he got dressed in the bathroom, intent on not having any help for this. He got his shirt and over shirt on with no problem, but getting his jeans on was a different story. But he did it, and even though he was out of breath, he was proud. He came out of the crutches and saw, thankfully, that Sam had gotten him a wheelchair.

"I love you, Sam." He grinned as he limped over and sat down, setting himself and the crutches right. The doctor gave him a few tips, like staying off his leg, before letting them sign papers and get in the elevators.

"So, you happy to be out?" Sam asked him as he hit the lobby button.

"You know I am, but-" Dean started, shrugging.

"Cas. I know. I'm sorry, Dean. I could tell you really did like him." The younger brother nodded.

"Yeah. I just wish I'd done something different, y'know? Let him know that I liked him." He sighed, running a hand though his hair.

"I think he knew, Dean. Really, I do."

And Dean smiled at that. His brother might have been a prissy, touchy-feely yoga crap talking kind of guy, but he was always good at making him feel better, even if just a little bit. He got handed his jacket, and slipped it on as they neared the lobby, getting it around himself successfully as the doors opened. Sam wheeled him out, hitting the automatic door button before they exited the hospital.

"So, where's the car?" Dean asked, looking around. His little brother was silent, already pushing him in a direction, and he tilted his head back to see him, "What are you grinning about?"

The younger Winchester chuckled, glancing to his brother before pointing ahead of them, "That."

Dean looked forward again, eyes catching sight of the sleek Impala, and a man with dark, messy hair that he knew by now wasn't entirely from sleep, and vibrant blue eyes, full lips upturned in a wide smile as he leaned against the car. Dean's eyes widened, "Cas."

The wheelchair slowed as they neared the car, but Dean just couldn't wait. Popping up out of the chair, he pushed the crutches to the side as he limped, jumping slightly and just about falling into the other man's arms. Castiel caught him, hand around his waist and on his arm like always. He chuckled, "Nice display, almost falling to the ground like that."

"Thanks." Dean smirked, one hand bunching in the other's blue sweater to pull them closer, other hand cradling his face as he leaned in, sealing their mouths together as he ignored the throbbing pain in his leg.