Now that he was human again - permanently this time - Castiel hated his immune system. He kept catching what felt like every illness in the book every time he dared venture outside for longer than fifteen minutes. He glared at Dean when his husband walked into their bedroom. "You feeling any better, sweetheart?" Dean questioned.
"Do not ask me that again," he hissed.
Dean snorted. "And there's my answer. You're over the worst of it, Cas."
Castiel glared at him before sneezing. "Fuck."
"Yeah, your life sucks." Dean sat down next to him, felt his forehead, and then hugged him. "At least you're not hot anymore."
"I feel like I should be insulted," Castiel deadpanned.
"Your fever broke. Why don't you take a nap? I'll stay right here with you and wait for you to wake up."
Sighing, Castiel shook his head, regretted the action instantly as his sinus headache flared up, then laid down. "Thank you for taking care of me, Dean. I know I'm acting like a child."
He chuckled. "No need to apologize, Cas, I get it. You've seen what I'm like when I'm sick."
They took care of each other and that's all there was to it.