The bed wasn’t really big enough for three, but that didn’t stop any of you. Castiel lay in the middle, looking a little bewildered but making no move to leave. Dean was tucked against his right side, his face pressed into Cas’s shoulder, one hand resting on Cas’s chest.

On the other side, you curled up against him, draping your arm across his waist. “Comfy, Cas?” you murmured sleepily.

“I… think so,” he replied, his voice soft. “I don’t usually—this isn’t something I…” He trailed off, his hands hovering uncertainly in the space between you and Dean.

Dean shifted, throwing a leg over Cas’s, and grunted. “Quit overthinking it, feathers. Just relax.”

Cas let out a quiet sigh, finally settling his hands—one on Dean’s back, the other brushing against your arm. “This is… nice,” he admitted after a moment, his voice quieter now.

You smiled against his side, your fingers lacing with his. “Told you.”

He didn’t respond, but the way his body softened under your touch said everything. Dean mumbled something unintelligible in his sleep, and you glanced up to see Cas watching both of you like he couldn’t quite believe it.

“You’re allowed to enjoy it, you know,” you whispered.

His lips curved into a small, hesitant smile. “I think I am.”

And when his eyes fluttered shut, you couldn’t help but feel like you’d just witnessed a miracle.