( at this point, honestly, he's too exhausted to protest. if he were a handful of years younger and still worried about personal space or things being weird, maybe. or maybe it has to do more with the fact that sam and his judging eyes are in another room, so dean feels less like he needs to overperform the ritual of masculinity. )

Yeah, yeah, alright Edward.

( regardless, he curls up with a pillow and mumbles something else, almost indistinct, his eyelids falling heavy over weary eyes. )

This is where you say "good night, sleep tight, don't let the archangels bite."

( but any response will fall on sleeping ears. )