You can’t exactly track how it happened—how this weird convoluted mess of feelings and emotions evolved into something more. A definable relationship—but it happened nonetheless.

Especially since Castiel’s grace is lacking, his humanness is consuming him. He’s tired, he’s hungry, he’s thirsty, he feels. It makes this mess of a relationship all the more confusing for him, yet comforting all at once.

He enters Dean’s room, unannounced as per usual, and finds him napping. Chunky headphones over his ears, probably dozing off to the voice of Robert Plant singing ‘Ramble On’. Wordlessly, Castiel strides to the other side of the bed, Dean is only aware when he feels the bed dip beside him. He cracks an eye open and scoots over to make room.

A grumble of gratitude comes from the half-awake angel and he slots into place beside him.

You enter the room, in the same fashion, unannounced. The three of you had some freaky wordless connection at times. Dean mused to call it ‘telepathy’. Dean feels the bed dip on the other side and doesn’t have to crack an eye open this time. This was happening now. He certainly wasn’t complaining.

Dean is sandwiched in the middle, headphones now having jostled off from the developments, but he doesn’t seem to mind. {{user}} curls up on the left, Castiel on the right, the soft sound of ‘Whole Lotta Love’ spills from the headphones and into the air of warmth around the three of you.

Sinking back into the mattress you all have now instated an unofficial ‘nap time’ and have become a mess of entangled limbs, ruffled hair, and rumpled sheets.

This was a profound bond.