Castiel wakes a few hours after that, just before dawn begins to pink the edge of the eastern sky. He's warmer than he thought he would be, but still on the floor and it takes him some time to regain enough of his wits to realize what had happened.

It falls into place when he realizes some time during the night, Dean had come down off of the mattress and brought all the bedding with him. And, some time after that, one of them or both of them had shifted and moved until they were tucked together, blankets and pillows strewn about and over and between like a pile of fabric and limbs.

Castiel's lips are two centimeters from Dean's neck. Something in his still sleep-fuddled brain convinces him to lift his chin and press an open-mouthed kiss against Dean's skin.