soft fluffy destiel cuddles pls
"Something's gotten into you," Cas wonders, thoughtful, as Dean slowly entwines his fingers in Cas's, hand laying on top of the latter's, over his own heart.
At the moment, Cas is wrapped around Dean, holding him snugly as they lie in bed, so he can't look into Dean's eyes as he says it - but he's sure the smile in his voice gets through.
"The spirit of Valentine's." Dean suggests, in almost a conspirational whisper. He's completely naked except for his boxers, and with Cas's solid warmth against his spine and the blanket filling out the areas of his front Cas can't reach - he's so comfortable, he isn't even sure he's awake.
"I suppose," Cas begins, lips so close to Dean's skin, that Cas's words tickle the back of his neck, and curl his toes. "It'd be romantic to say I don't want to exorcise this spirit out of you, since it makes you even more adorable." Cas has this habit of saying regular words with so much more meaning. When he says it, gravelly and profound, adorable makes Dean feel adored. "But I knew St. Valentine. He was the patron saint of lovers, epileptics and beekeepers. And you, unfortunately, don't like the bees."
A soft, easy laugh rumbles out of Dean. Fuck, the things Cas does to him. "The romantic thing to do would be to kiss me, old guy." He teases, lightly - it can really throw him off sometimes, how Cas has actually met these biblical folks, let alone is one of them. He thinks of turning on his side; but Cas is pressed up against him completely, so he's going to have to do it carefully - so as to not elbow his husband. Oh, for the countless responsibilities of the little spoon.
"Okay," Cas pauses. "...baby."
Dean gets the context, he honestly does - but something just goddamn hits home with the way Cas says it, like he knows what it'll do to Dean, and a blush creeps up his cheeks.
It's strange, indeed. Dean can call Cas everything from sunshine, to sweetheart, but all it needs is the slightest reciprocation from Cas - and his insides are a puddle, waiting for Cas to scoop up in his arms, and keep safe.
Cas may've had his knee wedged in between Dean's thighs since they woke up, and his hand tucked under Dean too, but the simple term of endearment makes him squirm like nothing else.
"Shuddup, and cuddle me." Dean mutters, still reeling, as he backs up some more, wiggling his butt against Cas's crotch to get Cas to hold him even tigher.
As if on reflex, Cas's hands start to slide lower down Dean's ribs, but Dean stops him gently, squeezing his hand, before he reaches Dean's dick. He's pretty sure he's still spent from the previous night, and in any case, this is a different kind of cuddle.
"I thought you asked me to kiss you." Cas reminds, seeing that Dean's halted the process of turning around, and has gone back to where they started from. But even as he says it, Cas readjusts slightly to hug Dean tighter, nose buried in his hair.
"Nah, I don't want to move anymore." Dean confesses, embarrassed. "You're warm, and like, really comfortable. Can I kiss you in a few minutes?"
Cas hums, and Dean smiles, closing his eyes.
"I love you," Cas proclaims, so sure of intent, suddenly, that Dean outright melts into a smile. A sigh escapes his lips.
It's going to be a really good day.