In the end, Dean doesn’t let him heal the soreness in his muscles.
He lets Cas heal the bite and the scrapes and scratches from the day but stops him before he does anything else. Cas lets him and ducks his head a little bit to hide his small smile.
He’s just glad Dean let him help at all.
Dean pushes himself up from the bathroom counter with a groan and rolls his head from side to side, trying to loosen up the muscles.
Cas watches him a little bit awkwardly, unsure of what to do.
“Well,” Dean clears his throat after a beat, “I think I’m gonna turn in for the night.”
He pauses in the doorway, his hand hesitating over the doorframe for a moment, “You comin, Cas?”
If he’s surprised by the invitation, he doesn’t show it.
Dean smiles to himself and goes down the hall to his room, leaving the door open as he kicks his shoes off.
He goes over to the dresser and groans as he pulls his shirt off, his shoulders sore from everything that happened today (and almost 30 years of abuse). It makes him feel old and he kind of can’t help but smile at that thought.
He hears Cas step into the room as he’s pulling his shirt over his head and Dean doesn’t bother turning around, “You feelin’ okay?”
“Better,” Cas answers after a few seconds. “Less...”
“Murderous?” Dean supplies helpfully, flashing Cas a weak attempt at a grin once his shirt is on.
Castiel rolls his eyes but it’s fond, loving even. “Yes. I appreciate you pointing that out.”
Dean snorts and tries to pull on some PJ pants, something in his chest loosening when he hears Cas doing the same. He feels warmer than he has in years, that little sliver of hope in his heart. That Cas will stay. That Cas is here.
Cas puts a hand on his shoulder, interrupting that thought process, “Dean, do you need any help?”
The pants are stuck around his knee and his ankle and he’s just been standing there with a really doofy smile on his face for the last couple minutes apparently.
“Um,” he clears his throat as his cheeks turn a little pink. “I - sure?”
He tries not to stare when Cas smiles and kneels down, pulling Dean’s socks off one by one.
His hands move to the PJ pants next and Dean swallows nervously, resting a hand on Cas’ shoulder to help the process along. Tries not to think about the last two years.
And then Cas is standing again, his face only a few inches away from Dean’s.
He smells like Dean’s shampoo and coffee and light. Dean’s never known how to describe that smell, no matter how many times he’s tried. Cas just - he smells like light. He smells like sunshine breaking through the clouds.
Dean smiles nervously, pretty sure Cas can hear the way his heart his hammering in his chest. “Thanks...”
Cas holds eye-contact for a few moments before looking away, his cheeks a little pink, “I... believe you were going to bed.”
It takes him a few seconds to snap out of it. It usually does.
Dean clears his throat and nods, “Yeah. Um - right. Yeah. Bed.”
He starts and stops a couple times, his feet never leaving the floor. They haven’t done this in a while and he’s still not sure where he stands with Cas after - after everything.
Luckily Cas saves him, like he always does, and gently pushes Dean towards the bed. He lets him and stumbles over to his side of the bed, trying not to trip over his own feet.
“I’m sorry it wasn’t the...” Cas sounds pained, “Werepires you were excited about.”
His heart skips a beat or two (or twelve) and he turns around slowly, his eyes wide.
“...dude.” Dean gapes, trying to fight off the manic smile that’s threatening to break out on his face, “You said it.”
“I did,” Cas mumbles as he tries to pretend he’s not smiling. “Let us never speak of it.”
Dean sits on the bed, grinning up at him, “Say it again.”
Castiel rolls his eyes and sits down next to him, “Werepires.”
Dean shivers a little.
Castiel watches him, calculating, before he seems to notice something and he groans. He looks up at the ceiling tiredly, as if it will save him from this, “Really?”
“One more time,” Dean asks hopefully, trying not to bounce too much on the bed.
Castiel mumbles something in Enochian and lays back against his pillow, “...Werepire.”
Dean looks nothing short of gleeful as he pumps one fist in the air.
Castiel chuckles, shaking his head fondly, “I take it you’re happy?”
And the thing about it all? Yeah - he is.
For once he’s happy. And Cas is here and Cas is humoring his bad jokes. Cas is safe and laying on the bed next to him in Dean’s old sweatpants and an undershirt. Cas is here.
Dean moves before he can really think about it and then he’s cupping Cas’ face in his hands, kissing him slow and gentle.
Castiel returns the kiss without hesitation, his own hand coming up to rest on the back of Dean’s neck.
They haven’t talked since Rowena reversed the spell. They haven’t really had a chance to talk and they’ve both been so nervous around each other that they haven’t really tried to push it.
They’ll have to talk at some point but right now, this feels like coming home.
“Thank you,” Dean whispers into the kiss. He tries to move into Cas’ lap without breaking the kiss but it’s awkward and Cas just ends up picking him up instead.
"You’re - mpfh,” Cas grunts when Dean shifts and pushes him back more against the pillows. “Welcome.”
Dean laughs and kisses Cas until his eyes start drooping, exhaustion hitting him like a truck, and Cas has to get him tucked in to bed.
He falls asleep with a smile on his face for the first time in a long time.
When Dean walks into the kitchen in the morning and sees his brother, he can’t help but blurt it out.
“Cas said it!”
Sam blinks at him tiredly, a spoonful of cereal hovering in between the bowl and his mouth. “O...kay?”
Castiel walks into the kitchen in his PJ’s and Sam almost chokes on his food.
“Cas!” Dean is way too awake this morning for someone who didn’t get laid last night, “Say it again.”
He sighs tiredly and rubs a hand over his face, “Werepire.”
Dean crows triumphantly while Sam watches them with a small grin.
“I don’t understand why this makes you so happy.”