Destiel Fluff

Lemons and chameleons

The Winchesters and an added angel were sat around the table of the bunker's kitchen, blinking sleepily and munching Dean's breakfast rolls. They were all too tired to speak, and so they communicated solely through grunts and bitch-faces. That is, until Dean asked Cas to pass the brown sauce.

Dean's voice was scratchy and even lower than usual thanks to an overnight cold-invasion. Cas, of course, had never been in close contact with a cold before, and so he didn't pass the brown sauce. He sat and did a suspicious side-eye instead. This made Dean increasingly grouchy, and his mood wasn't exactly bettered by Cas throwing holy water in his face. He lunged forward and grabbed the small bottle out of his best friend's hands and flicked his forehead.

"Cas, come on. I'm not possessed, you moron. What is this, anyway? Is this a... is this a motherfucking fish? Sammy, he just squirted me with holy water from a fish-shaped bottle that you get with the Chinese."

*bitchface*

"The ones that you get soy sauce in. Look at it." He thrust the tiny plastic fish in his brother's deeply unimpressed face. "I'm fairly sure that's blasphemy."

"Dean. Why do you sound like my cat before he pukes up a hairball?"

"Fuck off, Asstiel." Dean grumped spectacularly. "Whoa, hold the fuck up. When did you get a cat?"

"Shit." Said Sam, at exactly the same time that Cas said, "Botheration. You weren't meant to know about that."

"Spill, Hot Wings."

"She's very pretty. She has fluffy grey fur, and the cutest wonky ears, and one white paw, and green eyes, just like yours, Dean..."

"Cas, did you just call Dean's eyes pretty?" Sam interjected.

"Uh." Cas and Dean blushed furiously and wore matching glares when Sam laughed.

"You never answered my question, Dean." Cas masterfully changed the subject, much to Dean's relief.

"About what?"

"Why does your voice sound funny? You are not possessed, and I am at least 87% sure that humans do not get hairballs."

Sam and Dean rolled their eyes simultaneously.

"I have a cold, Cas. It's where some douchebag virus infects your body and gives you all kinds of misery. Sore throat, runny nose, achy joints, headache, and all that jazz. It sucks. And it's very contagious."

"Oh."

"Oh indeed."

"What medicine do you need?"

"There isn't a medicine for colds, Cas. I'll just have to ride it out."

"That is stupid."

"Yeah, I know."

Sam had been watching the conversation silently, when all of a sudden he had an idea.

"Cas, there isn't a medicine to get rid of it. But, there are some things that might make Dean feel better..."

Cas looked up excitedly, eager to help.

"Dean's gonna be grouchy, like a toddler who skipped his nap. Dean, you always are, don't look at me like that. So just do nice little things for him: make him a drink, but not beer, snuggle up with him on the couch and watch a sappy movie, kiss him goodnight. He loves stuff like that, especially when he's poorly..." Sam was grinning evilly now.

Cas nodded happily and practically sprinted to the sink.

"What would you like to drink, Dean? I can make coffee, tea-ish, hot water..."