⌗ 13┆Castiel⋆ˎˊ˗

You watched wearily as Dean and Sam talked from the backseat while Dean insisted on two hotel rooms; he refused to share a bed with Cas again. Cas, sitting next to you in the backseat, rested his hands in his lap, silently watching the flickering glow of the streetlights.

The four of them desperately needed to shower; they still had blood stuck to their clothes from the hunt; a hunt that, it seemed, had left the angel more exhausted than he let on. He was quiet. No ramblings about butterflies or blobfish. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary.

At least, not until the angel collapsed in your lap.

You looked down and stared silently; he looked awfully peaceful. Sam looked at them both and a smile spread across his face; it was a lovely sight. At first, he kept his mouth shut, simply nudging Dean before pointing at the sleeping angel.

Cas was as peaceful as a sleeping kitten, his torso curled up in your lap, his hands gently gripping your waist, his face buried in your stomach.

Dean was the only one who spoke.

"I didn't know angels were chronic snugglers."