Title; Empty Sheets.

Author; Tarklovishki

Warnings; None.

Spoilers; None.

Rating; PG.

Summary; Castiel wakes up one morning to find an empty space in the bed where Dean should be.

Authors Notes; So this was written for a picture prompt I found on a blog on Tumblr. This was supposed to be completely different, then it took on a life of its own and then you have this piece of weird in front of you and I don't even know what happened. Can fingers have brains?

Empty Sheets
by Tarklovishki

The sheets were scrunched up in the centre of the bed. Castiel groaned as he started to turn onto his back only to have the light shine down on his face from the window directly above him. Rubbing a hand over his face, he decided that he might as well wake up.

Instinctively he stretched an arm out to the other side of the bed, looking for Dean's comforting warmth, only to find the space that he usually filled to be empty and cold. Castiel cracked open his eyes, a little sleep crust cracked in the corners of his eyes, and frowned.

Surely after last night, Dean hadn't chickened out and decided to leave? He knew this arrangement of sorts was not what Dean was used to, but to actually leave? Castiel didn't want to think Dean capable of being so cruel.

Castiel sat up, yawned and stretched his arms out over his head, delighting in the feeling of his muscles pulling, waking up from a nice night. He scratched absently at his belly, felt something flake off, looked down and noticed dried come from last night's activities. He blushed. That had been a good night. Not that he had much experience on how 'good' nights of sex could get.

Oh. Right. Dean. He was meant to be finding where Dean had gone.

He grabbed the first pair of pants he found, which happened to be Dean's jeans, and pulled them on without bothering with underpants.

The reason Castiel didn't want to believe that Dean had left him this morning was because after five months of dating, they had finally gone all the way. It had been Castiel's first time, and it was something special and important to him. Heck, he'd told Dean as such last night when they were on the cusp of sex, Dean wanting to know if Castiel was ready and Castiel assuring him that yes, Dean, I want you. I want all of you. Give it to me. Dean couldn't have—wouldn't have, shouldn't have—left.

Except, when he reached the bottom of the stairs, looking out of the window, covered by a white lace curtain, he could see the black form of the Impala sitting out in the driveway.

Canting his head with a frown, Castiel jump the last few stairs and walked down the small, narrow hallway that, on the left wall, held two pictures—one of Sam and Dean, who held up a large barracuda proudly, and another of Dean and Castiel, grinning broadly, just minutes after Dean had asked Castiel out on a date—and into the living room/dining room complex.

"Hey, Cas!" Dean called from the stove, putting down the spatula to wave. "You hungry?"

The smell of bacon and eggs filled the room.

Castiel immediately felt bad about thinking Dean had left him. As if sex was all Dean had wanted from him, when he'd told him that Castiel was the only person he'd ever truly loved. Castiel never failed to jump to conclusions.

"Sure am," he said, walking up behind Dean and wrapping his arms around him, holding him close.

Dean chuckled. "Correction; are you hungry for bacon and eggs, or me?"

"Both. Both is pretty good."

"Well go get a couple of plates, huggy bear, it's almost ready." Dean reached behind him and patted Castiel's ass. He was smiling tenderly.

Safe in the knowledge that if Dean were to leave him, it definitely wouldn't be any time soon—like, say, years. Decades—Castiel pressed a kiss to Dean's cheek and went to go fetch some plates.

The End.