Late some nights, curled up beside his angel-turned-human in their shared bed, Dean remembers the times when he prayed and Castiel didn't answer. He remembers the weight that hung in his chest, expanding, pressing outward against his ribcage and down into his stomach. He sat on the corner of his bed – just his bed then, not yet theirs – and let his gaze trail around the room, hoping the angel would show. He didn't. And though Dean knows now the reasons why, he didn't know them then. Castiel could have been dead. That fear twisted Dean's insides into a tight knot. The memory of it still does.
Dean presses closer to sleeping Castiel. He tucks arms around arms and legs between legs, entangling them more fully together until their chests are flush and Dean can feel the steady pound of Castiel's heart against his own and the soft puffs of the fallen angel's breath against his neck.
Castiel is alive, and he is here. He is safe in the curve of Dean's embrace, in the still of their room, in the dark of the bunker. No one will find him here. No one will steal him away and make him forget who he is and all the good he has done.
Dean's lips leave soft kisses in wild dark hair, before dropping to cast a trail of love down a tall forehead and over a straight nose. Castiel's eyelashes tickle Dean's skin when he kisses the junction of a chin and a cheek.
"You are awake," Castiel says, voice gruff and drowsy.
"No, man," Dean replies. He smiles when Castiel's fingers pull at his cotton shirt. "I'm dreaming."
Castiel tilts his head – just slightly – into the pillow. "You're awake."
"No," Dean says again. He presses his lips to Castiel's but does not linger. "You're just in the dream with me."
"Dean. This isn't a dream," Castiel says in a way of genuine concern, like he thinks Dean's really lost it this time, and Dean just can't help it. He laughs.
"Just go with it, Cas," he says.
"Oh," Castiel says, but his eyes still narrow in confusion and misunderstanding. Five seconds later (Dean counts), those same eyes widen, showing more blue, and he's finally figured it out. "You know you're not asleep. You are… pretending."
Dean rolls his eyes. "I'm trying to compliment you."
"By insisting I'm not real?"
Sudden uncertainty is there in those blue depths, and a touch of fear. Dean wonders how often Castiel thinks about those times he couldn't answer the prayers attached to his name.
"You being here with me, Cas; it's more than I ever thought I'd get," Dean says. "It's a hell of a lot more than I deserve."
"I just… I love you, alright?" he says, stumbling now, with words the size of his heart too big for his mouth. He closes his eyes, hoping darkness might make them less weighty. "I do, and I… I don't know. I'm just… I'm happy."
This time, Castiel kisses him. When they separate and Dean dares to look, Castiel smiles up at him and says, "I'm dreaming."
A/N - Thank you for reading! I was really bummed last night so I just had to write some cute Destiel. I hope you enjoyed it! If you've seen this before, it's because I usually post these drabbles onto my tumblr a day or so before I post here. My sn is the same both places. Also, I don't have a beta so any mistakes are my own. :) HUGS