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"Dean, are you awake?"  Castiel breathes the question against the side of Dean’s neck, ignoring the fact that his bedmate has already started to snore softly.  A few seconds later, he clears his throat and - a little more loudly - repeats, "Dean?"

"Mm, yeah," Dean answers, his arms tightening around Castiel’s body, pulling him closer.  After another half-snore, he slurs:  "Yeah, s’okay."

"What?"  

"It’s okay," Dean says again.  "Don’t care."

"What’s.. "  Castiel frowns, his face smashed against Dean’s neck as he whispers,  "What’s okay?”

"Mhmm," Dean hums. His breath evens out again soon after, his grip around Castiel’s shoulders loosening ever so slightly.  Cas lies in bewildered silence, pressed against his sleepy-soft boyfriend in the pitch dark of their room.  Just when it seems certain the bizarre conversation has ended, Dean mumbles, "Left at the moon.  Bring the squid."

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