Sometimes Dean likes to touch Castiel.
And not always in a sexual way. He likes to trail his fingertips across Castiel's back on a quiet morning, and he knows Castiel likes it even if he says it's menacing to his sleep. On some mornings, Dean asks Castiel to shave because even though he likes him with some scruff, manscaping is everything. And the little hairs tickle Dean's nose when they kiss.
"If it bothers you so much, you do it." He'll insist and Dean will end up doing it for him. But he doesn't mind. He'll stand between Castiel's legs as he sits on the countertop, holding Castiel's chin in place as concentrates on shaving the small hairs. Castiel will laugh at all the obscure faces Dean makes.
"Shutup and sit still." Dean will mutter but it only earns him a more giggly, moving Castiel.
When he's finished he'll grab Castiel's newly shaven and smooth face and plant a small peck on his lips.
"Feel better?" Castiel will ask him.
"Much." Dean will say.
When Dean leaves in the mornings to work a regular nine to five he never thought he'd have, Dean hugs Castiel goodbye. And sometimes he lingers for a moment with Castiel in his arms, breathing in his scent of Old Spice body wash and burnt coffee, he'll pull away slightly still holding on and look at Castiel's face. Remembering the subtle dent of his chin, curl of his lips, and the glint in Castiel's blue orbs before finally letting go.
The following evening he'll pad across the kitchen floor after a fulfilling dinner and wrap his arms around Castiel's waist and rest his head on his shoulder as he washes dishes.
"You could help with these." He'll say and Dean will chuckle quietly against Castiel's neck.
"You're doing so well. Why ruin a good thing?" That'll earn him a playful jab in his ribs.
"You're insufferable you know that right?" Castiel will say and Dean loves it. He loves that Castiel is sophisticated enough to insult him and still make Dean's heart stir in the process.
Sometimes he'll run his fingers through Castiel's hair as they lay comfortably entangled on the sofa mindlessly watching television. For small moments, they'll just exchange looks with each other. Castiel staring into Dean's eyes, but somehow looking far beyond that. He'll smile and it'll be infectious. Dean thinks how surreal it is that he's here, they're here, together. In wedded domestic bliss. Laying on their couch, in their home. He never thought he'd get this with the life he used to lead. Never thought he'd have Castiel, alive and human. He never thought he'd be happy.
At the end of the day, as they lay in bed together quickly approaching sleep, Dean lays his head against Castiel's chest. Listening to his shallow breathing.
"I love you." He'll say. A few moments later Dean will realize Castiel is already fast asleep, but it doesn't matter to Dean if he heard him. Because Castiel knows it. And Dean knows Castiel feels the same way. So yeah, Dean likes to touch Castiel, likes to be more affectionate than he used to be, because he can. Because this is Cas. This is his husband, he's a living breathing, being. So just for the hell of it, Dean touches Castiel, just to make sure he's still there. Just so Dean knows he isn't going anywhere.