Don't want to fall asleep 'cause I'd miss you, babe.

[decadency]

Dawn approaches slowly. Faint light on the horizon reflects off the snow-covered fields surrounding Bobby's house and illuminates the cracks in the outer walls. Outside the blanket, the morning air bites with cold. It leaves Cas's ears and the tip of his nose numbed. But under the blanket, it's warm, shared body heat providing a furnace. Where their legs tangle, his knee slotted between Dean's and their calves pressed together, his skin sweats beneath his jeans. The small of Dean's back where Cas rests his palm likewise is sweaty beneath the sweatshirt.

Cas slides his hand across damp skin when Dean shifts in his sleep, rucking up the back of the sweatshirt. Foreheads touching, his nose nudges against Dean's as Dean stirs until Cas can join their mouths together in a soft kiss.

"Dean."

His fingers curl against Dean's spine, nails scraping gently against the skin. He relishes every point of contact of bare skin to bare skin: his toes flexed against Dean's ankle, his hand under the sweatshirt he loaned Dean. Even though Dean striped down to his boxers last night before they climbed into bed, he didn't. It didn't seem right. All this body has is scars.

He offers another whisper kiss and rolls his hips in a long, lazy stretch against Dean's thigh where it presses against his groin. The morning's quiet and still. He's been half-hard since the car last night. What seemed like an impossibility yesterday doesn't seem so ill-advised now. Not with time running out and the dawn approaching.

"Dean." Are you awake?