[ He can't keep still anymore--not with those words and certainly not with that hand settling warm on his neck. The alcohol is burning its way through him now, and with the dark comes the realization that they're alone like this. That... something isn't exactly right even if he feels it might be. Castiel can't see much of him anymore, not with the shadows filtering across the room, so he lifts his free hand to find Dean's face. The edge of his thumb drags along skin, the edge of his jaw maybe. The line of his cheekbone. ]
You can't compare yourself to me. I'm not speaking of loyalty, Dean.
[ And he feels sick. Sick enough that he turns his face away and leans to rest his forehead against Dean's shoulder. He very suddenly wants to lie down and stretch out, this conversation odd and their proximity odder. Castiel thinks he might want--
The hand on his thigh gently slides up, further until he's gripping the hem of Dean's shirt in a light hold. He doesn't know whether he does it to keep him there or to anchor himself to reality. The liquor seems to be really kicking in. ]
If I could give you more, you wouldn't have to ask for it. [ It's mumbled under his breath, hot against the fabric of Dean's clothes. ]
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Date: 2014-03-09 07:26 am (UTC)You can't compare yourself to me. I'm not speaking of loyalty, Dean.
[ And he feels sick. Sick enough that he turns his face away and leans to rest his forehead against Dean's shoulder. He very suddenly wants to lie down and stretch out, this conversation odd and their proximity odder. Castiel thinks he might want--
The hand on his thigh gently slides up, further until he's gripping the hem of Dean's shirt in a light hold. He doesn't know whether he does it to keep him there or to anchor himself to reality. The liquor seems to be really kicking in. ]
If I could give you more, you wouldn't have to ask for it. [ It's mumbled under his breath, hot against the fabric of Dean's clothes. ]