Work Text:
Dean yawns, stretching out to the tips of his fingers and toes like a large, sated cat. There's a satisfying squelch between his legs and his limbs are the delicious numb of over exertion and the well fucked.
Cas pads into the room and all Dean can do is blink blearily up at him. The angel peers over the edge of the breakfast tray.
"Tea?"
Dean's lips twitch upwards before he laughs, burying his head in the lone surviving pillow. "You're so weird."