The One Bed Bet

malicezero:

This is an old fic I wrote for @mittensmorgul​ ‘s The Great Fic Writer Scavenger Hunt (round one) some time ago, originally in two parts. All of my old posts from before I deleted my account are gone but this fic still makes me snicker so I thought I’d repost it. The prompt was: there is only one bed, and Cas (for whatever reason) is wearing different clothes. 

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“So, the good news is we got a discount,” Sam says in a false-bright tone, striding through the parking lot over to where Cas and Dean stand idly waiting, leaning against the Impala.

Dean clearly understands this to mean there’s bad news coming. He raises his eyebrows and gives Sam a pointed look. “But?”

“But, uh… they only had one room available. One room… with one bed.” Sam continues with a wince. He raises a hand to shield his eyes. It’s almost sundown, and the warm Arizona rays are hitting him square in the face.

Dean groans. “Aww, crap.” They had just wrapped up a case in San Diego, and after about 8 or 9 hours on the road, they decided to crash for the night in some shithole town in northeast Arizona. Dean figured with a decent sleep, he might be able to make it all the way home to Kansas tomorrow. So naturally, there’s a big wedding here this weekend, and of course the (singular) town motel (which has probably never NOT had vacancy until now) is booked up.

“We can backtrack to Flagstaff?” Sam offers.

Dean scowls. “No way. Waste of time and gas. Seriously, there’s nowhere else to stay here?”

“It’s one night, Dean. It won’t kill you.” Sam sighs.

“Sharing a bed with you? Uh, it might!”

“Don’t be melodramatic, Dean.” Cas rolls his eyes. “You and Sam have shared a bed before.”

“Yeah, well YOU and Sam haven’t, so don’t you lecture me about being melodramatic until you know what it’s like.” Dean retorts.

“What’s it like, then?” Cas says coolly, a glimmer of challenge in his blue eyes.

Dean sputters. “It- It… It friggin’ sucks , that’s what it’s like!”

Castiel’s face is impassive. “Hmm…” he says disdainfully. “Well, if you can’t even give me a reason…”

“Oh, I’ll give you a reason!” Dean huffs. “I’ll… I’ll give you THREE reasons!”

Sam sighs heavily, used to his brother’s ridiculous arguments with Cas, and pushes his long hair out of his eyes. “I’ll grab the bags, shall I?”

“One,” Dean begins hotly, “He’s a freaking giant. You think you’d be comfortable with his giant arms and giant legs and his giant – hair – sprawled over every inch of you??”

“What about my giant dick?” Sam calls from the trunk of the Impala, unable to restrain himself.

“Fuck you, Sammy, that’s not funny,” Dean whips around, eyes wide, a serious but panicked look on his face. He points a finger at his little (giant) brother. “The day your… y’know… interferes with my sleep is the last day you spend breathing.”

Sam laughs and pulls two battered duffle bags over his broad shoulders.

“TWO,” Dean continues, determined, “He sweats. A lot. I’m talking pitstains on the T-shirt and everything.”

“I won’t be wearing a shirt tonight,” Sam calls as he walks down the cement walkway to their motel room. “It’s peak summer weather in Arizona. It’s gonna be 85 degrees and I highly doubt this room has A/C.”

“Oh, HELL no,” Dean protests loudly, but Sam has already ducked into the room.

Castiel tsks impatiently, unimpressed. “So your objections are bodily contact and a bit of moisture. Seems like an overreaction, Dean.”

“‘A bit of moisture’? Dude, ew. And no, it’s not. And besides, I said three reasons!” Dean scowls defensively and crosses his arms over his chest.

Castiel mirrors his posture. “Very well. What’s the third reason?”

Dean struggles to come up with a third reason. “He… He makes noises in his sleep.” He offers finally.

“What kind of noises?” Cas’s eyes narrow.

“Like… sex noises.” Dean asserts with a meaningful look.

“Screw you, Dean, I do not!” Sam objects, rejoining them. “Are you guys coming or what?”

“How would you know, Sam? Have you heard you sleep? Cause I have! Been doing it my whole damn life!” Dean reminds him.

“I don’t make sex noises,” Sam says to Cas. “C’mon. Lets change out of these fed suits and find something to eat.”

“I didn’t say there WERE sex noises, I said they SOUND like sex noises.” Dean clarifies.

Cas is squinting in confusion. “You mean like a whimper, or a moan?”

Dean’s mouth opens and closes a few times. Christ, the last thing he needs is for his mind to associate Cas with sex noises. “You know what? Forget it. My point is, sharing a bed with Sam sucks, and I can bitch about it all I want.” He heads briskly for the motel room.

Cas shrugs, trailing behind him. “I could do it no problem.”

“Oh, you think so?” Dean says, visibly irritated now.

“I do.”

“Prove it.”

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