Cas hummed and took in a deep breath of Dean's scent. "Then we will make them nice," he said. He would do it even if Dean didn't want him to see what he dreamed, soothing the nightmares away with a brush of grace. It was a relatively simple thing, really, and of all people Dean deserved good dreams.
The ways Dean drew in closer made him smile. He settled comfortably in Dean's arms, and stretched his legs out a little to cross his ankle over Dean's. Humanity had always seemed to him like a long exercise in discomfort. Human bodies were demanding things, between hunger and thirst and getting tired and all the other little physical desires and disturbances. For the most part, Cas was grateful that his grace handled them for him, but this... laying here, wrapped up close with someone he cared very deeply for, counting out the rise and fall of Dean's chest and the steady beat of his heart, letting it soothe him... this seemed like the epitome of comfort.
“Yes, Dean,” Cas replied, “I like being this close to you.” He meant it too. This was more than okay. This was everything he’d wanted, and Dean wasn’t pushing him away or telling him to mind his personal space. Perhaps that was why he didn’t catch the admission and stow it away with all the other things that he secretly wished for and didn't dare speak of openly.