just a random drabble, outta the blue
—> xmerifri
it was sunday morning, about a three weeks after dean found cas in that damn mine. dean had rolled out of bed at an early hour, unable to catch sleep again for the nightmares that chased it away kept circling his brain. cas was still asleep; he’s taken an extreme liking to the bed, and it often took more than a cup of coffee to get him out of it.
to clear his mind, dean pulled on some shorts and left the house to run a mile or so. he didn’t do it often - not every day like sam - but he knew keeping in shape was a good idea. he wasn’t all too worried about cas waking up to an empty bed because most days dean’s up before him, but he leaves a note saying he’s on a run. just in case.
it takes him about twelve minutes to run two miles. one there and one back. when he gently closes the door to the bunker, drenched in sweat, he gets a smartass comment from sam who’s already run and showered. dean ignores it with an amused huff and roll of his eyes. moving with more vigor now, awake and spurred by an idea.
he sets the coffee up and leaves it to brew while he showers. he’s quiet as possible, getting his clothes for the day, then sneaks back out of the room to shower elsewhere. he doesn’t want to wake up cas.
when he’s clean and clothed, dean gets to work making breakfast for one. he’s not entirely hungry, having eaten one of sam’s freak protein bars before running because he hadn’t the energy to make something. surprisingly, it worked well – but dean would forever make fun of sam and his health nut choices. it doesn’t take long; dean’s pretty good at multi-tasking in the kitchen between an omelette with cheese and sausage, bacon, and grits.
it takes him a bit longer to arrange the full plates and coffee cup on a platter in a way that they don’t fall off, but he finally manages and makes his way to their bedroom. when he pushes open the door, cas is still fast asleep, wrapped in blankets like a cocoon. dean kind of wants to take a picture, but his phone’s no where near him. he just saves the image in his memory, one of those things he’ll always love about cas. small, but true.
there’s just enough room on the bed for dean to sit down next to cas, tray on his lap as he nudges cas. it takes a couple nudges and a few ‘cas’s on dean’s part amidst annoyed grumbles from the other party. when dean stands, cas eventually finds it in himself to open his eyes and see dean holding the tray of food with a crooked - almost embarrassing - smile on his face.
“i know s’not five star or anythin’, but — y’deserve it, cas.”
there’s a period of silence, like cas is still registering through his sleep muddled brain.
“i don’t understand why –”
“s’breakfast in bed, cas. it’s a thing people do for people they love.”
now dean’s getting a little worried this idea wasn’t the best. that’s definitely happened before. cas is still looking at him with a look of trying to grasp the concept. dean shifts awkwardly on his feet, cheeks starting to burn. then cas saves him the embarrassment of just leaving the room.
with an audible sigh of relief, dean sits down next to cas as the other semi pushes himself into a sitting position. his bed hair sticks in all different directions, and his eyes still look bleary from sleep; his voice, too, grates and hangs low. it still amazes and thrills dean that he gets to wake up to this every morning. dean sets the tray on cas’ lap and leans forward to press his lips to the other’s.
