[ He never means for his words to goad the reaction that they do from Dean.
Of anything here, Castiel knows Zelien isn't like camp. Things have already altered so much since those first few days after he'd found him and run away. Rather than turn around, he's making a single line towards him, and he's being pulled in by the gravity of something more than Castiel can comprehend. He's tired, but his nerves are also on end, electric by the heat of the touch he has on Dean. His fingers curl a little more, holding onto him as he leans closer to look at him.
The sharpness of his features in the dark causes his chest to ache. ]
We're like this because-- [ A pause, and Castiel thinks he swallows his heart when he breathes. ] Because we're bound to each other. We always have been.
[ Since that very moment he touched him and pulled him from Perdition. Since he lost his grace for him. Since he gave up everything to stay. The amusement stretches a faint smile across his lips, and he presses his cheek to Dean's, mouth to his ear. It's a whisper. ]
it's true enough. through everything they've experienced, they've always been joined by the meeting they'd shared in hell. it's not something dean remembers, though he knows it to be true, the burned hand print of the man so close to him now still marring his shoulder.
cas presses against the side of his face and dean only makes the quietest of sounds, confirming his words. it's why he'd been so angry this past week or so, angry and disappointed and why finding out what cas had failed to do had hurt him so. where there's sam and dean's undying love for his brother, there's also cas and their bond. the road has been nothing if not bumpy, but dean doesn't think they could be sharing this moment now, if he was missing either of them from his life. ]
...Cas.
[ it's murmured as dean turns his head, presses his nose, his mouth to the side of his friends. he can smell him, feel him, all of him this close and it's-- it's causing his hands to curl where they are, one on cas' collar, the other somewhere else-- over his torso, against his side, curling into the fabric of his shirt as dean holds impossibly still and just breathes him in. ]
[ The sound of his name jars him directly into the moment.
Castiel sighs as he breathes, focusing in on the pressure of those fingers curling into his shirt and on his collar. He knows this. Even if he'd been that clueless angel from years ago, even if he'd reverted back to having no experience whatsoever, he would have-- He might have known this. How it's practically an invitation, the curve of his mouth and the heat of his breath when Dean exhales. It sinks into his skin and coils tension in his belly.
He doesn't know what to say. He thinks, perhaps, there is nothing to say now.
It's been such a roller coaster for them since they'd arrived here, dead but living in the shadow of what they have to do and what they should do. Castiel settles against him, weight a precious balance on the hand still resting between Dean's legs, and he can't stop the slight pull of his head, the dizziness of uncertainty that wells up even as he tilts and turns and angles himself just so to graze the edge of his bottom lip. It's not a kiss, not yet. He could call it an accident and be done with it, roll away and onto his side in order to pretend to sleep. He could laugh it off and build up those walls again.
Castiel doesn't have the strength for it now. He's tired. He aches. It's down in the pressure of his bones and the beat of his heart, and his fingers tug at the short strands of Dean's hair to pull him closer. Closer, closer, closer. His pulse hammers in his ears, and it just-- It stops when their noses bump, when it's not a drag of lips against lips. When it's their mouths and they're kissing and he doesn't know what he's doing even if it's good. Even if it's right.
He squeezes his eyes shut until he can't see anything but the blackness there and refuses to let go. ]
[ there are certain things dean has long since given up thinking of for himself. in fact, the only thing he'd wanted for himself, for years, was revenge for sam. that's it, it had always been about the mission, about avenging his brother. nothing more, nothing less. it had allowed him to become ruthless, determined and cold. it had made things simple; one goal, get to it however he had to.
nothing more. nothing less. nothing more, nothing less.
zelien's changed that though, but in ways dean could have never expected.
maybe this has always been heading to a certain direction, one point in the horizon they've both been traveling towards, but dean's never know what that point could hold. not other than a death ultimately, be it through something violent or otherwise unpleasant. but never this.
where he'd moments ago breathed in the scent of cas, he now tenses. for that moment where cas' lips slide over his without any excuses, with no fumble or press of foreheads, dean forgets everything but the feeling. there's no mission for that split second, no sam to constantly worry about, no lucifer or michael, no horrors looming just beyond the distance.
for that moment, dean's not angry. the frustration and rage usually so unstable in him stilled.
there's only them, and cas' mouth on his.
his hand slides higher, along his neck and to the curve of his jaw. his grip is light but there, holding him in place while dean pushes in, pushes just an inch further. the contact is electricity, entirely forbidden and wrong but he doesn't stop himself, doesn't have the mind to.
not yet, not yet. just let this last for even just a second longer. ]
[ Beneath the spark, the warmth and the sudden onset of more, the position they're in is suddenly very difficult.
If he slips, he'll crash right into him and ruin the seconds that tick by in tandem with his heartbeat. If he sways to the side, he'll crush his hand, and Castiel gives the softest sort of noise under his breath, between their lips. He eases back just a fraction, mouths ever so slightly connected as he drags himself up to get a much better angle and drive them both against the wall. His palm settles on a thigh, his other dropping down to push at his chest and tightly fist his shirt.
He's trembling as he meets Dean's mouth, trying to get a grip on his thoughts and feeling them float off in another direction entirely. He shudders as he dares to ask for more with the tip of his tongue. Soft, so soft. He strains and stretches and shivers with the breathy noise that escapes him now, nearly lost to the finer details.
Everywhere they touch, the rhythm that their bodies find. The shattering knowledge that he could have this and it might be okay-- ]
Dean...
[ He has to stop. He has to breathe. He needs to put space between them and ask himself what it is they're doing. They'd have never found each other like this back home, and even if they drive it into themselves that Zelien isn't home, that there is no going back, it still leaves them to fight for it. Fight for each other and what this is.
If it's anything.
Castiel has kissed to kiss, and he's had sex to forget. It's a matter of wanting and ignoring all in the same breath, and he's become too good at it that this step is so frighteningly huge and dangerous. He doesn't want to make another mistake, he'd said. He just doesn't want Dean to hate him, to cast him aside and pretend nothing ever mattered. And he clutches at that small bit of hope, deepens the kiss until everything is reeling and the room has tilted on its side.
At the cost of it being forgotten, he might want it to be something. ]
[ dean's back meets the wall, cas pressed against him and it's-- perfect. a quiet sound leaves him as he meets that mouth further, licking his way inside while his hand holds cas there, forces him to stay close. he can't let this go, the taste is addictive and the more he gets, the more he wants.
wants like he hasn't in so, so long.
cas is breathing his name and dean doesn't, can't, hear it. his other hand comes to the other side of cas' face, cradling curves of his jaw, fingers over his neck, over skin and he doesn't let cas pull back, just presses his lips against cas', eyes closed, and voice quick, quiet. ]
Don't-- just don't...
[ don't talk, don't question this, not right now, please.
dean hasn't kissed to kiss, to enjoy, to taste, to discover something new in a long, long time. in years. but he does now, he kisses because he can, because it's being allowed, and because he wants to. there's time for once, safety in the darkness where no one can see them. he feels raw, open, allowing this but also right.
it's... exciting, and dean feels alive.
so he pushes into the kiss, pushes and deepens it until his head spins from the lack of air-- and even then he keeps pushing. ]
[ He'd press and push and shove his way to an answer, but now isn't about that. Now isn't about being too stubborn to heed the warning. He lets it go and opens himself up to the pressure of the mouth seeking his, pliant as he can be without being pushed over.
All of this is so strangely surreal, but honestly, he doesn't have the heart to really question it. What it means, what it might mean. What they're going to do now. This is the line he's always drawn for himself in the midst of a dying world--keeping Dean at a distance. They'd forced themselves apart, but Castiel had always watched him, longed to stand shoulder-to-shoulder like an equal. He's had that here, and now, he's getting even more. It's an odd sensation to lean close and kiss your only friend, unsure if it'll ever be the same.
If it'll ever be this right ever again.
He huffs out a breath, still uncomfortable, and there's a soft, wet sound as their lips part for the few seconds it takes to get himself upright and in Dean's lap. The pressure is off his wrist, and as the other man had cupped his face, Castiel can slide his fingers around the back of his head to yank him close again. Their mouths clash, and it's a harder kiss, less testing and far more firm, demanding. The daze is still there, causing his hands to clench and stroke at his hair to ease the tension out of him. Then, he's sagging into him and wrapping himself close.
Each time he breathes, it grows hotter. Each time he tilts his head to kiss him, his thoughts slip. The dark is the perfect cover for this, not really embarrassed or ashamed but achingly cautious. Any second now, and it'll be over. Any second, and he'll have to pull himself away before Dean tells him no. But--
Still, he wants another. Castiel bites at his lip. Another, and there's a low, low groan as the heat of the kiss consumes him, drowning out everything else. ]
[ dean hasn't done this in a long time. it's not that he doesn't know how to, or want to, but the opportunity hasn't exactly presented itself, let alone the desire. but one thing has slowly been leading to another with cas, with his friend always insisting on being so close, always pushing dean in a way absolutely no one else dares to. and he's never really thought about this being a possibility, of them this close in the dark with no excuses for their actions, no higher force driving them to this.
the need to deepen, for more keeps growing, and dean finds himself having a harder and harder time holding himself back. his fingers curl deeper into cas' face, hold him harder like he's afraid castiel might disappear on him. and the kisses become more forceful, though his friend seems to meet each one head on, much like dean would expect him to.
much like cas does with everything.
one had slips away, his arm wrapping around cas' torso, and dropping his mouth, dean bites at the soft flesh where neck and jaw meet, bites without hesitation and sucks a bruise without thinking about it one bit. for this moment in the darkness it's just them, there is no zelien, no one waiting outside to judge, no one out there who might see the bruise. he doesn't think about it, only does what he wants for once, what he wants for himself.
what he thinks will be good for cas.
and once he's done, with his breath falling hard, dean noses his way back up to the side of cas' face, much in the way of what had originally prompted this, and just breathes. ]
With the years the apocalypse had brought, Castiel has had numerous people willing to share his bed or something more. Women, so many, and the occasional man. Sometimes, he'd lose count of the bodies, and he certainly couldn't remember them all now, but it'd be so easy to know something like this if he'd ever experienced it. A slow burn of his senses, the hard, bruising press of Dean's fingers into his skin, and the underlying desperation that lights him awake with the knowledge of it. He readily drops his head back to expose his throat, give more room to that questing mouth, and he breathes out almost harshly when the bite comes.
The suction, and his nails dig into the slope of Dean's shoulders, arching against him for an inch of friction.
It's apparent where this might go if he lets it, if nothing stops them, but it's too much, too soon. They'd only just reconciled, still needed to talk about what should be done, and somehow, the build-up of their time together, the days they'd spent angry at each other, had resolved itself with something even more complicated. Dean's nose against his cheek, and Castiel squeezes his eyes tight before opening them, intensely focused on the wall and the vague shape of Dean's head. His mouth continues to burn with the slowly fading pressure and memory of teeth, the thrum of obvious desire rolling through him. But he drops his forehead against Dean's shoulder rather than chase it, resting for a moment before sliding his hand down to lightly grip his shirt.
A slight turn, and he's moving away to stretch out on the mattress, bringing the other man with him. He's too tired to talk, too worked up to question what's just happened. He doesn't want to. ]
[ energy rushes through his body, leaves every bit of him awake and alert like he hasn't felt in a long time. yet there's something content, too, something calmed and pleased. it's pleasure from knowing he's marked cas' skin, pleasure from the taste which still lingers on his mouth of something he's never before dared to go for. it's everything, swirling in his gut and soothing him...
the pressure of cas' head against his shoulder steadies his breathing, has dean letting himself just drift in this moment, wordless and thoughtless as he takes it all in.
takes in what's just happened.
when cas draws back and drags him with, dean goes willingly. he settles his weight easily next to cas' body, the line of him attached to the other man, not leaving an inch of space. one knee bumps between cas' legs, an arm sliding over his friend's torso until he's hovering just slightly above him. the darkness steals the features of cas' face from him, but even then he can see the blue of those familiar eyes.
a pause, and then dean's leaning in again, just lightly pressing his mouth to the corner of cas'. ]
You should sleep.
[ he noses the side of cas' face, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes his scent.
For a second, Castiel hates the darkness that's wrapped around them and shutting them in. The whole of Zelien is out, and they hadn't bothered with lighting their way, too centered on far more important details. Besides, the dark doesn't scare him. He knows if he twists or leans a particular way, he's going to find Dean there. Pressed up close, intimate as the last several minutes have been. If he tilts his head and tries to follow the mouth soundly touching the corner of his, if he just lets go-- He's really too tired to think about it. His mind slides from one thought to another far too quick, and there's a low, acknowledging noise in lieu of anything intelligent. ]
Yeah. [ He fully relaxes into the mattress this time, tilting his head so he's wedging himself against his chest. It's the heat of another body that eventually settles him. Even if it's too warm to really be this close, he needs it. So he knows he's not alone. ] Are you staying?
[ And maybe he wants to hear it for himself. Sometimes, he can never tell with Dean. He's sure, by the time morning rolls around, it's not going to be like this. If they're pretending, then he can make a solid effort to give them both what they want.
Castiel slides his hand against Dean's hip, casually resting there for a moment before simply draping his arm over his side in much the same fashion the other has done to him. His fingers curl around in a lazy attempt to drag him even closer. ]
[ there's comfort in another body being next to his at night. it's safety, two sets of ears instead of just one, both ready to react in case something happens. and something always could, especially in this place. but tonight that's not what dean is thinking about. tonight he just wants to be close, wants to press against the warm, solid body which belongs to his friend.
wants to just exist next to him, quiet and pleased.
with cas' face in his chest, dean relaxes next to him, and buries his into the mess of dark hair, inhaling softly. and at the request, he makes a quiet confirming sound. ]
...Alright.
[ he remembers waking up somewhat like this, when he'd gotten drunk before. he remembers, because it had been the first time him and cas had gotten incredibly close, closer than anytime before on camp. it had been the start of this, he thinks, and now they're here.
why it doesn't scare him dean can't figure out, but it doesn't. maybe it will in the morning, maybe it won't, but for now he just... is. ]
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no subject
Date: 2014-03-26 06:22 am (UTC)Of anything here, Castiel knows Zelien isn't like camp. Things have already altered so much since those first few days after he'd found him and run away. Rather than turn around, he's making a single line towards him, and he's being pulled in by the gravity of something more than Castiel can comprehend. He's tired, but his nerves are also on end, electric by the heat of the touch he has on Dean. His fingers curl a little more, holding onto him as he leans closer to look at him.
The sharpness of his features in the dark causes his chest to ache. ]
We're like this because-- [ A pause, and Castiel thinks he swallows his heart when he breathes. ] Because we're bound to each other. We always have been.
[ Since that very moment he touched him and pulled him from Perdition. Since he lost his grace for him. Since he gave up everything to stay. The amusement stretches a faint smile across his lips, and he presses his cheek to Dean's, mouth to his ear. It's a whisper. ]
For better or worse. [ Right? ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-26 09:05 pm (UTC)it's true enough. through everything they've experienced, they've always been joined by the meeting they'd shared in hell. it's not something dean remembers, though he knows it to be true, the burned hand print of the man so close to him now still marring his shoulder.
cas presses against the side of his face and dean only makes the quietest of sounds, confirming his words. it's why he'd been so angry this past week or so, angry and disappointed and why finding out what cas had failed to do had hurt him so. where there's sam and dean's undying love for his brother, there's also cas and their bond. the road has been nothing if not bumpy, but dean doesn't think they could be sharing this moment now, if he was missing either of them from his life. ]
...Cas.
[ it's murmured as dean turns his head, presses his nose, his mouth to the side of his friends. he can smell him, feel him, all of him this close and it's-- it's causing his hands to curl where they are, one on cas' collar, the other somewhere else-- over his torso, against his side, curling into the fabric of his shirt as dean holds impossibly still and just breathes him in. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 12:47 am (UTC)Castiel sighs as he breathes, focusing in on the pressure of those fingers curling into his shirt and on his collar. He knows this. Even if he'd been that clueless angel from years ago, even if he'd reverted back to having no experience whatsoever, he would have-- He might have known this. How it's practically an invitation, the curve of his mouth and the heat of his breath when Dean exhales. It sinks into his skin and coils tension in his belly.
He doesn't know what to say. He thinks, perhaps, there is nothing to say now.
It's been such a roller coaster for them since they'd arrived here, dead but living in the shadow of what they have to do and what they should do. Castiel settles against him, weight a precious balance on the hand still resting between Dean's legs, and he can't stop the slight pull of his head, the dizziness of uncertainty that wells up even as he tilts and turns and angles himself just so to graze the edge of his bottom lip. It's not a kiss, not yet. He could call it an accident and be done with it, roll away and onto his side in order to pretend to sleep. He could laugh it off and build up those walls again.
Castiel doesn't have the strength for it now. He's tired. He aches. It's down in the pressure of his bones and the beat of his heart, and his fingers tug at the short strands of Dean's hair to pull him closer. Closer, closer, closer. His pulse hammers in his ears, and it just-- It stops when their noses bump, when it's not a drag of lips against lips. When it's their mouths and they're kissing and he doesn't know what he's doing even if it's good. Even if it's right.
He squeezes his eyes shut until he can't see anything but the blackness there and refuses to let go. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 01:16 am (UTC)nothing more. nothing less. nothing more, nothing less.
zelien's changed that though, but in ways dean could have never expected.
maybe this has always been heading to a certain direction, one point in the horizon they've both been traveling towards, but dean's never know what that point could hold. not other than a death ultimately, be it through something violent or otherwise unpleasant. but never this.
where he'd moments ago breathed in the scent of cas, he now tenses. for that moment where cas' lips slide over his without any excuses, with no fumble or press of foreheads, dean forgets everything but the feeling. there's no mission for that split second, no sam to constantly worry about, no lucifer or michael, no horrors looming just beyond the distance.
for that moment, dean's not angry. the frustration and rage usually so unstable in him stilled.
there's only them, and cas' mouth on his.
his hand slides higher, along his neck and to the curve of his jaw. his grip is light but there, holding him in place while dean pushes in, pushes just an inch further. the contact is electricity, entirely forbidden and wrong but he doesn't stop himself, doesn't have the mind to.
not yet, not yet. just let this last for even just a second longer. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 02:54 am (UTC)If he slips, he'll crash right into him and ruin the seconds that tick by in tandem with his heartbeat. If he sways to the side, he'll crush his hand, and Castiel gives the softest sort of noise under his breath, between their lips. He eases back just a fraction, mouths ever so slightly connected as he drags himself up to get a much better angle and drive them both against the wall. His palm settles on a thigh, his other dropping down to push at his chest and tightly fist his shirt.
He's trembling as he meets Dean's mouth, trying to get a grip on his thoughts and feeling them float off in another direction entirely. He shudders as he dares to ask for more with the tip of his tongue. Soft, so soft. He strains and stretches and shivers with the breathy noise that escapes him now, nearly lost to the finer details.
Everywhere they touch, the rhythm that their bodies find. The shattering knowledge that he could have this and it might be okay-- ]
Dean...
[ He has to stop. He has to breathe. He needs to put space between them and ask himself what it is they're doing. They'd have never found each other like this back home, and even if they drive it into themselves that Zelien isn't home, that there is no going back, it still leaves them to fight for it. Fight for each other and what this is.
If it's anything.
Castiel has kissed to kiss, and he's had sex to forget. It's a matter of wanting and ignoring all in the same breath, and he's become too good at it that this step is so frighteningly huge and dangerous. He doesn't want to make another mistake, he'd said. He just doesn't want Dean to hate him, to cast him aside and pretend nothing ever mattered. And he clutches at that small bit of hope, deepens the kiss until everything is reeling and the room has tilted on its side.
At the cost of it being forgotten, he might want it to be something. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 05:23 am (UTC)wants like he hasn't in so, so long.
cas is breathing his name and dean doesn't, can't, hear it. his other hand comes to the other side of cas' face, cradling curves of his jaw, fingers over his neck, over skin and he doesn't let cas pull back, just presses his lips against cas', eyes closed, and voice quick, quiet. ]
Don't-- just don't...
[ don't talk, don't question this, not right now, please.
dean hasn't kissed to kiss, to enjoy, to taste, to discover something new in a long, long time. in years. but he does now, he kisses because he can, because it's being allowed, and because he wants to. there's time for once, safety in the darkness where no one can see them. he feels raw, open, allowing this but also right.
it's... exciting, and dean feels alive.
so he pushes into the kiss, pushes and deepens it until his head spins from the lack of air-- and even then he keeps pushing. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 06:17 am (UTC)All of this is so strangely surreal, but honestly, he doesn't have the heart to really question it. What it means, what it might mean. What they're going to do now. This is the line he's always drawn for himself in the midst of a dying world--keeping Dean at a distance. They'd forced themselves apart, but Castiel had always watched him, longed to stand shoulder-to-shoulder like an equal. He's had that here, and now, he's getting even more. It's an odd sensation to lean close and kiss your only friend, unsure if it'll ever be the same.
If it'll ever be this right ever again.
He huffs out a breath, still uncomfortable, and there's a soft, wet sound as their lips part for the few seconds it takes to get himself upright and in Dean's lap. The pressure is off his wrist, and as the other man had cupped his face, Castiel can slide his fingers around the back of his head to yank him close again. Their mouths clash, and it's a harder kiss, less testing and far more firm, demanding. The daze is still there, causing his hands to clench and stroke at his hair to ease the tension out of him. Then, he's sagging into him and wrapping himself close.
Each time he breathes, it grows hotter. Each time he tilts his head to kiss him, his thoughts slip. The dark is the perfect cover for this, not really embarrassed or ashamed but achingly cautious. Any second now, and it'll be over. Any second, and he'll have to pull himself away before Dean tells him no. But--
Still, he wants another. Castiel bites at his lip. Another, and there's a low, low groan as the heat of the kiss consumes him, drowning out everything else. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 06:29 pm (UTC)the need to deepen, for more keeps growing, and dean finds himself having a harder and harder time holding himself back. his fingers curl deeper into cas' face, hold him harder like he's afraid castiel might disappear on him. and the kisses become more forceful, though his friend seems to meet each one head on, much like dean would expect him to.
much like cas does with everything.
one had slips away, his arm wrapping around cas' torso, and dropping his mouth, dean bites at the soft flesh where neck and jaw meet, bites without hesitation and sucks a bruise without thinking about it one bit. for this moment in the darkness it's just them, there is no zelien, no one waiting outside to judge, no one out there who might see the bruise. he doesn't think about it, only does what he wants for once, what he wants for himself.
what he thinks will be good for cas.
and once he's done, with his breath falling hard, dean noses his way back up to the side of cas' face, much in the way of what had originally prompted this, and just breathes. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-27 07:15 pm (UTC)With the years the apocalypse had brought, Castiel has had numerous people willing to share his bed or something more. Women, so many, and the occasional man. Sometimes, he'd lose count of the bodies, and he certainly couldn't remember them all now, but it'd be so easy to know something like this if he'd ever experienced it. A slow burn of his senses, the hard, bruising press of Dean's fingers into his skin, and the underlying desperation that lights him awake with the knowledge of it. He readily drops his head back to expose his throat, give more room to that questing mouth, and he breathes out almost harshly when the bite comes.
The suction, and his nails dig into the slope of Dean's shoulders, arching against him for an inch of friction.
It's apparent where this might go if he lets it, if nothing stops them, but it's too much, too soon. They'd only just reconciled, still needed to talk about what should be done, and somehow, the build-up of their time together, the days they'd spent angry at each other, had resolved itself with something even more complicated. Dean's nose against his cheek, and Castiel squeezes his eyes tight before opening them, intensely focused on the wall and the vague shape of Dean's head. His mouth continues to burn with the slowly fading pressure and memory of teeth, the thrum of obvious desire rolling through him. But he drops his forehead against Dean's shoulder rather than chase it, resting for a moment before sliding his hand down to lightly grip his shirt.
A slight turn, and he's moving away to stretch out on the mattress, bringing the other man with him. He's too tired to talk, too worked up to question what's just happened. He doesn't want to. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-28 03:08 am (UTC)the pressure of cas' head against his shoulder steadies his breathing, has dean letting himself just drift in this moment, wordless and thoughtless as he takes it all in.
takes in what's just happened.
when cas draws back and drags him with, dean goes willingly. he settles his weight easily next to cas' body, the line of him attached to the other man, not leaving an inch of space. one knee bumps between cas' legs, an arm sliding over his friend's torso until he's hovering just slightly above him. the darkness steals the features of cas' face from him, but even then he can see the blue of those familiar eyes.
a pause, and then dean's leaning in again, just lightly pressing his mouth to the corner of cas'. ]
You should sleep.
[ he noses the side of cas' face, eyes fluttering shut as he breathes his scent.
he'll be here, he'll stay right next to him. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-28 04:51 am (UTC)For a second, Castiel hates the darkness that's wrapped around them and shutting them in. The whole of Zelien is out, and they hadn't bothered with lighting their way, too centered on far more important details. Besides, the dark doesn't scare him. He knows if he twists or leans a particular way, he's going to find Dean there. Pressed up close, intimate as the last several minutes have been. If he tilts his head and tries to follow the mouth soundly touching the corner of his, if he just lets go-- He's really too tired to think about it. His mind slides from one thought to another far too quick, and there's a low, acknowledging noise in lieu of anything intelligent. ]
Yeah. [ He fully relaxes into the mattress this time, tilting his head so he's wedging himself against his chest. It's the heat of another body that eventually settles him. Even if it's too warm to really be this close, he needs it. So he knows he's not alone. ] Are you staying?
[ And maybe he wants to hear it for himself. Sometimes, he can never tell with Dean. He's sure, by the time morning rolls around, it's not going to be like this. If they're pretending, then he can make a solid effort to give them both what they want.
Castiel slides his hand against Dean's hip, casually resting there for a moment before simply draping his arm over his side in much the same fashion the other has done to him. His fingers curl around in a lazy attempt to drag him even closer. ]
You should stay. [ At least for now. ]
no subject
Date: 2014-03-28 05:47 am (UTC)wants to just exist next to him, quiet and pleased.
with cas' face in his chest, dean relaxes next to him, and buries his into the mess of dark hair, inhaling softly. and at the request, he makes a quiet confirming sound. ]
...Alright.
[ he remembers waking up somewhat like this, when he'd gotten drunk before. he remembers, because it had been the first time him and cas had gotten incredibly close, closer than anytime before on camp. it had been the start of this, he thinks, and now they're here.
why it doesn't scare him dean can't figure out, but it doesn't. maybe it will in the morning, maybe it won't, but for now he just... is. ]