So, I was being a prompt whore over on Twitter and I got a prompt for "thunderstorms, cuddles and comfort...fluff" basically.

This is the result of said prompt, it turned out a lot longer than I intended, but...since it's so long I don't feel so horrible for posting it. I think the prompter was my anon reviewer Michelle...I could be wrong though...correct me if I'm wrong.

Anyhow! Twitter fic...here it is. I didn't look over it to well so apologies for any mistakes.

Once again, you guys are welcome to follow me over on Twitter if you so desire, I bitch about life in general and do the whole asking for prompts thing and post snippets of fics and random ass pictures of random ass things.

Okay, I'm done self-promoting...enjoy the fluff!

Title is from Train's Brick by Brick

"The sky has made it back to blue, everything that's left is telling us the worst of it is through." (yeah, I listened to the song on repeat while writing this thing)

Cas hadn't been human for long, but he'd taken to his newfound humanity a lot better than he had the last time. There was no alcohol-induced grouchiness, no pills or orgies (thank God for small favors, if the bastard was still even around), no reluctance to sleep and he had a great love of pie. Which Dean could get behind.

What Dean could not get behind was the fact that in his newfound humanity Cas liked to touch. It was like he was some attention-starved kitten and was constantly wandering around with a pout on his face until someone touched him or he was allowed to touch.

Sam didn't seem to mind it, being the giant girl; he gave Castiel hugs, pats on the back, an arm over his shoulders. He allowed Cas to hug him in return, grip his arm at times and sit close enough to breathe the same air when they were going over books.

Bobby allowed some, but not much. Simple pats on the back or shoulder to convey a "good job". Usually he'd even allow Cas to slump against his side when the exhaustion would catch up with the ex-angel and he'd pass out on the couch or at the desk.

Dean however, was not a touchy feely person. Beyond the occasional brushing of shoulders and a quick hand on a shoulder to steer, he didn't touch Cas much at all. No hugs, no cuddling, hardly anything. Sure, he maybe felt a little bad about it, since it was something Cas needed to cope or whatever, but he just wasn't that type of person.

So when Cas crawled into his bed in the middle of the night while the three of them were off on a hunt, it took all of his willpower to not just shove Cas off the bed and to the floor. Sam was passed out on the other bed, snores soft and snuffling in the thick night air. It was summer, and from the sounds of it, the storm that had been brewing on the horizon was now right over their heads, rain beating against the window, wind howling along the walkway outside of their door and the occasional flash of lightning followed by the crack of thunder.

"Dean." Cas shook his shoulder, Dean tried to pretend he was still asleep, hoping that Cas would give up and either crawl over to Sam and bother him or just go back to his cot on the other side of the room.

"Dean."

Dean sighed, rolled over onto his back and glared at Cas in the darkness and snapped, "What?"

A flash of lightning briefly illuminated Cas' features, the wide eyes and mouth set in a thin line, "I don't like this."

"Just a thunderstorm Cas." He felt Cas jump a little when the thunder cracked loud enough to rattle the window in its frame. Dean wondered how he and his brother could have continued on sleeping through this noise.

Cas was still staring at him, waiting for something. Dean sighed and lifted the edge of the sheet, tried to ignore the look of relief Cas gave him as he climbed under the sheet with Dean and plastered himself to Dean's side. Dean rolled his eyes and settled himself to a night of cuddling, as much as he wanted to push Cas away and tell him to get over himself, he just couldn't bring himself to do so.

He wrapped an arm around Cas' shoulder and pulled him closer, "Didn't think an angel would be scared of a thunderstorm."

Cas huffed, settled his head on Dean's chest, threw a leg over Dean's and rested his arm over Dean's waist, "I'm not afraid."

"Could have fooled me."

"I'm just not used to them. Thunderstorms are different when you can see them from above, or when you're in them. I'm not used to the noise, the way it looks..."

Dean sighed and closed his eyes; he knew he was partly to blame for how Cas had turned out. Human instead of angel, stuck on the ground instead of up in the clouds with his dick brothers. There was nothing he could do about it now though, except get over himself and offer the comfort that was needed right now. Sam was still snoring in the other bed so it wasn't like he'd have to know about it.

Dean turned over a little, hand absently stroking up and down Cas' back, "You know...when I was little my mom used to tell me thunderstorms were just the angels bowling."

"I don't know what bowling is."

"I'll show you one day."

"Sometimes the storms are a manifestation of an angel's wrath...but that doesn't sound like bowling." Cas mumbled, nuzzling into Dean's chest.

"Nah, bowling is fun. I think you'll like it."

Cas hummed, shifted just a little closer and Dean continued with running his hand along the length of Cas' back.

"When we're done with this hunt. I'll take you bowling, I think the two of us together can kick Sam's ass." Cas snorted and Dean could feel his smile pressed into his chest.

Slowly but surely the wind died down, the center of the storm moved on and the rain turned to a light drizzle. In the distance, the thunder rumbled, but in the hotel room Sam snored on and Cas drifted off back to sleep, still pressed up against Dean's side.

Dean didn't fall back asleep that night, just continued holding Cas and rubbing his back, finding his own comfort in the act.

Maybe this touchy feely crap wasn't so bad after all.