Authors Note- This is just a human AU, bunker, beginning of season nine, one shot, Destiel-ish thing. I found a prompt sentence list on Tumblr, so, this is one of those sentences. Please review? But only if you want to. No pressure or anything. Thanks for taking your time to read this.

Prompt Sentence: "Is that my shirt?"

Adjusting to human life was just as Castiel expected- which wasn't much except for being powerless and having to remember to eat and brush his teeth all the time. Castiel felt isolated in the bunker, under the watchful gaze of Dean and Kevin- when they could spare a moment to pull them selves away from all the work they were doing trying to figure out how to help Sam speed up his healing process after the trials, and trying to work out what spell Metatron used to banish Castiel and all the other angels to Earth.

He had offered to help, it had been a week since he fell and Castiel felt useless so he had asked if Kevin or Dean needed his services but he just ended up getting in the way. Humanity was odd and full of emotions that Castiel just didn't understand and every time he messed up and did the wrong thing a big lump in his throat formed, forcing himself to be exscused from the room. The bunker had a lot of rooms, there was Kevin's, Dean's, Sam's and Castiel's own. Kevin's and Castiel's had just been 'spare rooms' where piles of boxes filled with case files and jars filled of weird, gross looking things that probably weren't human were stored but they got cleaned out and what remained was something empty. A simple mattress on a steel frame with springs, a couple of shelves, a desk and a chair that Castiel was afraid to sit down in and a lamp that needed a new bulb.

The light bulb was easy to replace and Castiel took pride in the fact that he did it all on his own, not that there was anyone else there to do it for him. Since Kevin and Dean were stressing out over the fallen angels and Sam was still recovering from the trials, he spent 23 hours out of everyday sleeping or just resting in his room, and there was no way he was going to ask Crowley in the dungeon- that was absolutely ridiculous, Castiel was a grown man. Sighing Castiel looked around his empty room and then down at the clothes he was wearing. They were the same pants and hoodie he had taken from the laundromat mat before he made his way to the bunker.

Standing up, Castiel stretched and ran a hand over his jaw, he was now supporting a healthy week old beard. He would benefit from a shave, and a shower, Castiel just shrugged and exited his room. Shoving his hands into his sweatshirt pockets, Castiel padded down the concrete floored hallway and rounded a few bends- it was extremely easy to get lost in the bunker- Castiel had found that out the hard way, so he counted the bends to the kitchen, straight, one right, two left. On the first left, Castiel bumped into Dean.

"Hello Dean," Castiel smiled at the hunter, pleased to see him empty-handed of files or Sam's laptop.

"Hey Cas," Dean replied, his own lips twitched into a smile, "I made breakfast if you want some."

Castiel nodded and made a move to walk past Dean.

"Dude," Castiel stopped his movements and turned to look at Dean once again, "when was the last time you showered?"

Dean's nose was crinkled and he was looking Castiel up and down.

"Uh-" Castiel hesitated, counting the days in his head, "-I've been here for six days so, five days?" Tilting his head, Castiel pursed his lips in a way that made his cheeks puff up and he shrugged, "why?"

"Dude, no. Shower everyday remember? You are not allowed in my kitchen when you smell like that," Dean took a hold of Castiel's shoulders and swiveled him around where he stood before pushing him back the way he came. "Have a shower man, and throw those clothes in the wash," with that Dean opened the door next to him and walked inside, surely to look at more books or files or another weapon that will probably end up being useless.

Looking back down at his clothes, Castiel stood in the hallway for a few moments before slowly raising an arm. Angling his nose towards the exposed arm pit, Castiel took a deep breath in through his nose before he crinkled it at the smell. Dropping his arm back down, Castiel retraced his steps and found the shower easy enough.

Dripping and still pleasantly warm from the shower, Castiel made his way out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped tightly around his waist. Standing in his room and letting himself air dry, Castiel's stomach dropped when he realized that he didn't have any clothes to wear. Unsure of what to do with his newly developed crisis, Castiel thought about just going to eat breakfast in just his towel but that would probably made Dean, Kevin and maybe Sam- if he had the strength to get out of bed- uncomfortable, but Castiel couldn't stand in his room forever waiting for someone to do the laundry and bring his pants and hoodie back to him. After a few minuets of air drying in his room and analyzing about what he should do next, an idea wormed its way into Castiel's mind.

Opening the door to his room, Castiel stuck his head out slowly and darted his eyes left and right to make sure the coast was clear. Discovering that the hallway was indeed empty, he slowly made his way back down the hall, checking over his shoulder and treading silently so he could hear if someone walked up behind him or was headed straight towards him and see him in his state of undress. Navigating his way to Dean's room, Castiel paused outside the closed-door and checked the hallway one last time before he took a hold of the door knob, twisted it and pushed himself inside the elder hunters room.

Taking a moment to admire the decor- guns on the walls, posters, albums- Castiel opened and closed multiple drawers as quietly and as quickly as he could before he finally found the drawers he was looking for. Shirts which didn't really range in color were shoved in one drawer and pants were shoved in the next, Castiel thought that he should probably borrow something that was older looking, something that he hadn't seen Dean wearing. Finding a shirt that was old wasn't as hard as Castiel had imagined, folded neatly at the bottom of the drawer was a well-worn Led Zeppelin shirt, fumbling with the fabric, Castiel found the correct hole to slip over his head. Dean's Led Zeppelin shirt fit Castiel comfortably and Castiel smiled at the feeling. Next was pants, Castiel didn't feel comfortable taking a pair of jeans and there were no track pants or old sweats that he could borrow. Eyes darting nervously to the open door of Dean's room, Castiel swallowed and pulled open another door which was filled with boxers. Picking a random black pair out of many black pairs, Castiel stepped into them and pulled them up his legs, settling them on his hips nicely.

Removing the towel from around his waist, Castiel roughly rubbed it over his head in attempt to dry his hair before he folded it over his arm and made his way back over to Dean's door. Poking his head out of Dean's room, Castiel checked that the hallway was clear once again before he stepped back out into the hall and shut Dean's door quietly behind him. Exhaling a breath he didn't even realize he was holding, Castiel ditched his towel back in his bathroom before finally walking out into the kitchen to grab breakfast. Castiel passed Kevin on his way to the kitchen, bid him a good morning but the prophet had head phones in and was concentrated on the angel tablet so his good morning was ignored.

Strolling into the kitchen, Castiel headed straight for the pot off coffee and poured himself a mug. A spluttering sound from behind him drew his attention, turning around, Castiel rested a hip against the counter by the coffee pot and gave Dean a concerned look. The elder hunter had a fist pressed to his chest, pounding on it a few times trying to clear away the crumbs that he had inhaled from his toast.

"Is that my shirt?" Dean inquired once he got his wind pipe cleared.

Castiel couldn't help but looking down at the shirt he was wearing, a faint blush painted his cheeks, he nodded though and raised his mug off coffee to his lips before taking a sip. Dean was gaping at him and Castiel felt warm under his gaze. Shifting himself so he was now over by the table where Dean was seated, Castiel maneuvered his body and slid into the empty seat across from him.

Speaking softly, Castiel added a moment later after Dean still hadn't said anything, "I'm also wearing your boxers."

Green eyes widened as Dean swallowed thickly, his heart was pounding in his chest and a blush that matched Castiel's raised up from his neck and painted his cheeks. Shifting in his seat, Dean let go of his coffee and moved a hand under the table where Castiel couldn't see. Dean wet his lips with his tongue and scanned Castiel up and down slowly with his eyes while subtlety pressing the palm of his hand against the arousal in his jeans. If Castiel noticed what Dean did he didn't say anything, he just sat relaxed in his seat, legs sprawled out in front of him.

"W-why a-are-" stuttering, Dean took a moment to clean his throat and try again, "why are you wearing my clothes?" Dean's voice was rough and laced with something that Castiel couldn't identify but it made his fingers twitch around his mug of coffee.

Castiel cast his eyes down and worried his lip with his teeth before answering, "I didn't have anything else to wear."

Dean reached across the table with the hand that wasn't pressed against the crotch of his jeans and clasped Castiel on the shoulder. Castiel flicked his eyes blue eyes up to meet Dean's green ones and he marveled in how close they were. Dean's breath warmed the air that Castiel breathed in and Castiel's tongue darted out to wet his lips involuntarily.

"We can't exactly go roaming the streets at this present moment in time because you know, the angels that probably want to kill us," Castiel winced, guilty, and Dean squeezed his shoulder, "which is not your fault by the way. Anyway my point is," Dean swallowed visibly, "you look good in my clothes, so, there's no point in risking our asses when we go to get you new ones to wear when you just keep wearing mine."

The corners of Castiel's lips turned upwards and he flashed Dean a smile which made the elder hunters pulse race, Dean let go of Castiel's shoulder and the hand quickly joined the other under the table to join in grinding against his arousal.

Dean tapped his foot against the floor of the kitchen and shifted in his seat again, "why don't you come with me to my room, and we will sort through all my stuff so you can have a pile of clothes to wear?"

Castiel beamed at Dean, his blue eyes sparkled and his voice was full of thankfulness, "thank you Dean." Pushing himself away from the table, Castiel drained the rest of his mug of coffee and stood. Standing in front of Dean gave the elder hunter a better angle to rake his eyes up and down the fallen angel wearing his clothes.

Castiel stood strong and tall, his stance made Dean think of a soldier. This was the first time that Dean had seen his feet and his legs, they were surprisingly sun kissed- only slightly tan and fair dark hairs covered the exposed skin. His shins and calves looked strong and there weren't any scratches or scars on his knees. Dean's boxers sat comfortably on Castiel's hips and Dean swore he could see the outline of the other mans member but he just mentally shook his head and continued his trek up.

"You look good in my shirt, Cas," Dean was smiling, his shirt worked on Castiel- like it was made for him, it was so human and fit him perfectly. The material hung down around Castiel's neck and Dean spent almost a full minuet staring at the column of Castiel's throat and his collar bones. Castiel's dark hair was still slightly damp and even messier than it usually way, the man obviously hadn't done anything but run a towel roughly through it. Dean saves Castiel's eyes for last, they were blue and wide but there were dark circles underneath them which made Dean's heart lurch in his chest. It was almost another full minuet before Dean's blush darkened and he averted his eyes from Castiel's heavy gaze.

Before Castiel could say anything, Dean removed his hands from his crotch and willed his erection to go away before he took a deep breath and pushed himself away from the small table, leaving his dishes behind. Stepping towards Castiel, Dean reached out to place a hand gently on the small of his back and pushed him gently, forcing the fallen angel to turn and start walking out of the kitchen. Standing so close to Castiel, Dean could feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, as Dean directed Castiel back through the halls to his room, Dean wished he could lift the Led Zeppelin shirt up so he could place is hand gently on Castiel's flesh instead of fabric.