Dean seemed troubled, and that troubled Castiel in turn. Sometimes Cas couldn't help marveling at the ease Dean seemed to hold around him now; he had lost count of the number of hugs Dean had wrapped him up in since they'd come here. He was almost getting used to it. But even with the years between them, Cas knew Dean, and he knew there was something bothering Dean that he had not spoken of - probably many things. He worried, but what could he really do to help? Especially with his personal track record when it came to helping.
Dean's touches always felt like they lingered long after he'd pulled away, burning right through to Cas's core. Which was totally illogical, of course, but Cas couldn't really question anything when it came to a soul as remarkable as Dean's. He turned to follow Dean, but paused in the doorway at first. He couldn't help stealing glances as Dean undressed, then a longer look... but Dean didn't protest. He knew Cas was there, but he hadn't told Cas to turn away.
Slowly, Cas followed the rest of the way into the room. He hovered by the bed as Dean settled himself, scuffing his soft slip-on shoes against the carpet. Spending his time in Dean's house and following him upstairs was one thing, but he was uncertain how much welcome he had here, in Dean's bedroom. "I like it here," he said with a slight shrug and a smile. He hesitated only a moment before sitting gingerly on the edge of Dean's bed, watching his face carefully. "The skunks are nice too, but this is better. Are you going to sleep, Dean?"