[ he thinks, for a breath, that it's a joke. it has to be, he's not entirely sure when this went from being a celebration between two friends to cas confessing that he hadn't been able to do the one thing dean's been trying to do for years. and had apparently had the chance to, as well. it's so conflicting, the press of cas against him to the mouth which finds his cheek, to the words that come out and how quickly cas is trying to escape then-- and it's that if nothing else, which spells out the fact that this isn't a joke.
cas never runs from him.
dean doesn't let him get far. cas is all but on him, and it takes little to reach onto something, to grab his friend back, to make sure he doesn't go stumbling off. ]
What are you talking about?
[ he needs to know. when had cas seen lucifer? when had he had a chance to kill him-- why the fuck didn't he? there's confusion, pure and simple on dean's face, etched into features which are trying to understand and failing. despite knowing the answer, he looks at cas again, and then demands; ]
If this is some stupid fuckin' joke, Cas, you need to-- stop.
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cas never runs from him.
dean doesn't let him get far. cas is all but on him, and it takes little to reach onto something, to grab his friend back, to make sure he doesn't go stumbling off. ]
What are you talking about?
[ he needs to know. when had cas seen lucifer? when had he had a chance to kill him-- why the fuck didn't he? there's confusion, pure and simple on dean's face, etched into features which are trying to understand and failing. despite knowing the answer, he looks at cas again, and then demands; ]
If this is some stupid fuckin' joke, Cas, you need to-- stop.
[ he doesn't find it funny. ]