[ He can't find it in himself to agree with that. They're different, changed, but not necessarily better. At least, Castiel doesn't feel that he himself is better. How could he be when - by Dean's side or not - there had been more to him before the start of all this? ]
I...
[ Castiel turns his head just the slightest, a movement that's not quite a shake of his head, and for that brief moment, their noses bump and rub. He can feel Dean's breath when he exhales, feels the tension in his own hand as his fingers curl tighter into his shirt. This angle is awkward, and his own weight is beginning to hurt him pressed close like this. So, he moves again. Just a little, enough to ease up the pressure on his joints, and it's almost as if he's pinning Dean to the wall with his shoulder.
If it were anyone else, he might have straddled their legs. Sat face to face with them. But they are already crossing so many lines, erasing boundaries and getting closer. He can't risk it knowing what he wants to say now. ]
There's something I need to tell you. [ Finally forced out, and it's only a low whisper, anticipation settling in his gut. He's not nervous. He's afraid, but the alcohol warms him deep and loosens his tongue. ] But I don't know how.
no subject
I...
[ Castiel turns his head just the slightest, a movement that's not quite a shake of his head, and for that brief moment, their noses bump and rub. He can feel Dean's breath when he exhales, feels the tension in his own hand as his fingers curl tighter into his shirt. This angle is awkward, and his own weight is beginning to hurt him pressed close like this. So, he moves again. Just a little, enough to ease up the pressure on his joints, and it's almost as if he's pinning Dean to the wall with his shoulder.
If it were anyone else, he might have straddled their legs. Sat face to face with them. But they are already crossing so many lines, erasing boundaries and getting closer. He can't risk it knowing what he wants to say now. ]
There's something I need to tell you. [ Finally forced out, and it's only a low whisper, anticipation settling in his gut. He's not nervous. He's afraid, but the alcohol warms him deep and loosens his tongue. ] But I don't know how.
[ He shouldn't. ]