A/N: My sister gave me a prompt: Dean is cold so Cas shelters him with his wings. I'm really pleased with what came out of it, considering I was barely awake when I got it together. Please review!

Dean was shivering. For once, it wasn't from the terrible nightmares, though they plagued him so.

For once it was because he was cold. He twitched in his sleep and pulled the crap-quality motel blankets up to his chin. He was too far gone to hear the slight fluttering of wings and did not stir, except to shiver again.

The cold wintry air was seeping under the door and the broken heater did not improve the temperature. Castiel looked down at his hunter, a crease forming between his eyebrows and a calm smile gracing his lips. "Oh, Dean," he murmured.

Sam, he noted, was not present. Castiel supposed that this was because of their earlier fight. Sam, he knew, was not far away, but his exact location was not of concern to the angel.

He stood, watching over Dean like he was supposed to. The hunter was still shaking from the cold. Castiel did not like how vulnerable Dean looked when he was cold-one arm was slightly outstreched as if to grasp someone's hand and his rough sleeve was pushed up to reveal his goosebump-laden skin.

Castiel slowly drew back, making up his mind. His-or rather, his vessel's-back shook and arched, causing the angel immense pain as the black wings shot out. It was over as soon as it had started. The ebony feathers shone in the small amount of moonlight that had eked its way into the room.

Castiel's wings were enormous and took up the majority of the small space. They were astounding. Had Dean been awake, he would surely have been in awe, regardless of the thousands of impossible things he had witnessed. However, the hunter did not wake.

Cas slowly maneuvered his way to the other side of the bed and climbed onto it, looking rather graceless despite his majestic wings. He gently curled himself around the hunter, one wing tucked neatly to his shoulder blades, the other sheltering both Dean and himself.

This more than anything else caused Dean to wake, this strange feeling of warmth and protection.

He rubbed his eyes sleepily. "Cas...? What're you doing?"

Castiel, in a sudden fit of something he could not place, tucked his head into the nape of Dean's neck. His next words were muffled by the soft skin and shirt fabric. "I'm protecting you."

Dean smiled. "Are these your wings?" he asked, reaching up to stroke one glossy feather. There was a sharp intake of breath. Dean propped himself up on one elbow, turning to look at the angel.

Cas had his beautiful blue eyes tightly closed and the hand resting on Dean's back was balled into a fist.

"Whoa. Are you okay?"

The concern in the hunter's voice made Castiel open his eyes. He breathed out slowly. "Yes. I just-it feels pleasant, that's all. It is not of import."

Dean laughed softly, his green eyes crinkling in amusement. Tenderly and so swiftly that Castiel could not have been sure that it was real, he kissed a feather.

His next kiss was laid sweetly upon the chapped lips of his angel. "I love you, Cas."

It was several minutes before Cas replied, his voice gravely and deep. "No chick flick moments, Dean. Remember?"