Devil's Angel

Oh.

Castiel's worked from the moment he walked through the door of the company's building till the time that Andy walked by, telling him to go home and lecturing on working too much. It became a rhythm for Castiel: get up, work, go home, eat, shower, work some more, go to bed at untimely hour only to get up and do it all over again.

It was slowly killing him, his mind wracking with reasons for his moodiness, but only able to picture his boss, smiling at him cheekily like he always did. It set a craving in his chest, one he did not want to feel, and he could just hear Andy's words in his head now.

It was this schedule that must have tired Castiel so completely. He found himself dozing at his desk, even falling asleep for almost an hour at a time until Andy happened to come by, waking him up. Nevertheless, he continued on this destructive path. When Dean came back, he found Castiel asleep at his desk, his skin pale and around his eyes dark and heavy. 

Castiel felt a nudge on his shoulder and slowly opened his eyes, turning to look at who he thought was Andy, only to meet the worried gaze of his boss. He was just too tired to feel anything, numb from exhaustion as he slowly raised his head, rubbing a hand through his messy hair and stretching.

"Sorry." Castiel mumbled, dozing off momentarily before jerking back awake. Dean sighed, walking around Castiel's desk and pulling his seat back.

"Come to my office." Dean said, a clear order in his voice as he helped Castiel stand up. The secretary mumbled something incoherent, rolling his eyes as his boss dragged him into the office and closed the door.

"What do you want? I need to get back to work." Castiel said, swaying slightly on his feet. Since when did Dean's office pulse?

"No, you're going to lay down because you can't even stand straight." Dean growled, leading Castiel over to the couch Dean had in his office. He pushed his secretary down on it, Castiel letting out a soft groan, staring up at Dean as he took off his jacket.

"Coming onto me already? You just got back." Castiel said weakly, trying to put some life back in himself. His boss just rolled his eyes, laying the coat over the secretary's shoulders.

"Sleep you moron." Dean replied, pushing Castiel's head so he was laying down. The secretary pushed back momentarily, but the soft fabric underneath his cheek began lulling him to sleep instantly.

There was a shift of weight as Dean sat down beside his chest, a small shaky breath escaping Castiel's lips as warm hands moved gently through his hair. It was comforting, and the secretary leaned into the touch, his nose brushing against Dean's leg as he fell asleep.

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When Castiel woke three hours later, Dean was no longer sitting beside him. He groaned, feeling groggy as he pushed himself up, rubbing at his eyes with a wrinkled nose. He turned his head, finding Dean sitting at his desk and writing something, his eyes narrowed in concentration.

"Feeling better?" Dean asked without looking up, scribbling what looked like to be a signature on the paper before switching to another one. Castiel let out a dull nod, his mind still foggy as he clutched at Dean's jacket around his shoulders.

"Thank you." Castiel said, not realizing how out of place that sounded as he stood, his muscles screaming with protest. Dean stopped writing, glancing up at Castiel with curious eyes before returning his gaze back to the papers.

"Well, if you'll give me my jacket back, you should go make up for the time you lost. Then I want you to go home and get a good nights sleep." Dean said, clear authority in his voice. Castiel sighed, taking the jacket and holding it out to him, his wit slowly coming back.

"At this rate, I might choke you with the jacket instead." Castiel retorted. Dean let out a chuckle, grabbing it from Castiel's hands and throwing it over his chair.

"Easy there tiger. That's not until the third date." Dean replied, but Castiel didn't really hear anything else as he froze, his eyes growing wide. He had heard someone say that before, the image of a man in a mask crossing over his gaze.

It couldn't be.... Castiel thought, staring at Dean with confusion. Dean couldn't be the masked man. Castiel distinctly remembered him sounding like a dying cat when he sang at the Christmas party. There was no way, was there?

"Y-yeah" Castiel mumbled, furrowing his eyebrows and looking away. He felt so confused. "I'm going to go work now."

Dean let out an 'okay', not even acknowledging Castiel's sudden mood change. The secretary left the office, glancing back to his boss, and wondering what things Dean has been hiding from him.