Dean stared at Cas, curled up on himself under the steady stream of water, his face buried between his arms. He didn’t understand what the fuck was going on. Showing up at midnight, having apparently walked here in the near freezing cold in nothing but an undershirt and a pair of thin black dress pants. It was fucking… infuriating, and terrifying. It pissed him off but all he wanted to do was go wrap his arms around him again, because what the fuck other choice did he have. Dean stood and pulled off his own shirt, leaving him in just his boxers because he’d been sleeping when Cas started pounding on his front door. He wrestled with himself for a moment before shoving his thumbs up under the elastic waistband, letting them fall to the floor. Cas wasn’t pay any attention until Dean climbed into the bath with him, pushing Cas forward so he could settle himself in against Cas’ back, his arms curling around his front, face pressed against the base of his neck.