Dean’s not sure what he thought was going to happen, exactly. Maybe that Cas would have certain expectations of him now - that he’d want fancy restaurants, flowers and candy, all that crap. Dean’s watched enough romcoms and soap operas to know how it’s supposed to go.

But so far not much has changed, except that they kiss openly and share a bed. The closest thing to a date they’ve done was having an Indiana Jones marathon and falling asleep on the couch together.

Dean thinks maybe he should feel guilty about it. Like Cas deserves better, whatever that is.

But right now Cas is tired and dirty, blood drying under his fingernails and dust in his hair, and still when Dean catches his eye in the rearview mirror Cas smiles like there’s nowhere he’d rather be. Like he’s happy, really happy, possibly for the first time in his existence.

So maybe it’s enough. Maybe it always has been.

Maybe they’re doing just fine.