Either way, he’s dropping to pull Cas close, bodies touching, an arm around his shoulders. Lay your head on his chest, Cas. His heart beats for you even if neither of them know it ]
[ it comes as a little bit of a shock. he expects a verbal answer, but still, he catches on and bends enough to to let dean pull him down. shifting around until he can rest easy against him, head pillowed on his soft and sturdy chest. he doesn't need to put his ear to dean's chest cavity to hear his heartbeat, but it resonates at this close distance all the same, each vibration sinking down to the very core of him.
[ It’s pretty intimate. Way more than he’d bargained for when he’d “u up” texted cas. Like it’s cas. He wasn’t expecting a cuddle sesh, though maybe he should have. Cas did say he loves him, after all.
then again, maybe not. he glances up at dean through the fringe of his bangs. ]
Yes. I think so.
[ that probably doesn't sound very confidence inspiring. but he hadn't meant to regale dean with some grandiose confession when the truth came out— he was just trying to figure out how he felt. how he feels.
he still is. he doesn't quite yet understand what it means to be a person. ]
I'm sorry I haven't... been able to give you many specifics. I've never had the opportunity to want something before.
[ castiel hums. it's a sound that says he isn't sure about that. and then he goes on to elaborate: ]
For instance, I do like touching you. But I didn't realize until I had more opportunities to touch you— Like on Samhain. [ when the spirits cursed dean to freeze to death seemingly in his own body. ] I think I've wanted to touch you for a very long time... [ since anna became involved in their story, at least. ] But I didn't know it. So, what else don't I know?
[ what he's saying is, um...
he props himself up so he can face dean while looking him in the eye, which means that he's nearly lying on top of the other man now. ]
If you could show me, it would make this much easier.
He lets his fingertip trail down Cas’ neck to his shoulder by his shirt, then slides his hand over, palm coming to a rest on between his shoulder blades. ]
[ castiel's brows knit. he's distracted by dean's hand moving over his body. he doesn't quite grasp what the significance of what he's asking is, but he at least grasps that it has significance, and that he should respond as such.
he tips his head in a half-nod, a punctuation to the confirmation he gives out loud. ]
[ not right now, no. but there's something kind of nice about planning ahead for it. normally, their plans all involve preparing for the end of the world.
nothing bad will happen if they choose the wrong restaurant. they can just go to another. ]
[ it’s been a while since he’s had someone in his bed like this.
He’s not sure if the last Cas counts, it was so fleeting, but this is good.
Really good. ]
[ unless you count samhain, he's never shared a bed with anyone before. he's probably giving it more conscious due than it deserves. the arrangement of his limbs, hairy knees brushing dean's outer thighs every so often when they shift, the amount of his body touching dean's at any given moment and with what amount of pressure. the psychological effect that it produces, and the way the feeling translates to him from physical body to non-physical manifestation. chemical processes written in one language translated into another.
it's an original experiment.
at least, for him. he deliberately doesn't linger on the thought of anna. (he thinks, bitterly, she had known exactly what she wanted.) ]
[ this almost feels like a job interview, and he huffs a laugh, curling his fingers into Cas’ hair, rubbing their legs together, quietly enjoying how it feels to have a man’s legs press against his. ]
Yeah. Livin the dream. You should come by more often. Beers on me.
[ he can't make drinks. he doesn't know anything about maintaining a place of entertainment. and at the current juncture, he's explored as much of etraya as he can. now— what does he do with himself? he has to do something. he has to make himself useful.
he's been useless since the day he's arrived. he curls his fingers in the front of dean's shirt, trying to warm them. his other hand he wedges beneath dean's shoulder. ]
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Yes, okay. That's what I'm asking.
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Or maybe don’t
Either way, he’s dropping to pull Cas close, bodies touching, an arm around his shoulders. Lay your head on his chest, Cas. His heart beats for you even if neither of them know it ]
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he places his cool hand on dean's stomach. ]
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Soaking of. ]
You really love me?
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then again, maybe not. he glances up at dean through the fringe of his bangs. ]
Yes. I think so.
[ that probably doesn't sound very confidence inspiring. but he hadn't meant to regale dean with some grandiose confession when the truth came out— he was just trying to figure out how he felt. how he feels.
he still is. he doesn't quite yet understand what it means to be a person. ]
I'm sorry I haven't... been able to give you many specifics. I've never had the opportunity to want something before.
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[ ‘think’ isn’t the same as ‘yes’ but it’s okay because it’s the closest he’ll get to someone giving a damn, probably ever. ]
It’s all good.
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For instance, I do like touching you. But I didn't realize until I had more opportunities to touch you— Like on Samhain. [ when the spirits cursed dean to freeze to death seemingly in his own body. ] I think I've wanted to touch you for a very long time... [ since anna became involved in their story, at least. ] But I didn't know it. So, what else don't I know?
[ what he's saying is, um...
he props himself up so he can face dean while looking him in the eye, which means that he's nearly lying on top of the other man now. ]
If you could show me, it would make this much easier.
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[ he swallows, looking up at the angel, wide eyed, a little wild. ]
There’s probably a lot you don’t know. [ he reaches up, traces one fingertip down the cut of Cas’ jaw. ]
But I don’t wanna, you know. Push you too fast. [ or himself. cas is warm and heavy and Dean is only a man. ]
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That's. Considerate.
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[ he thinks.
He lets his fingertip trail down Cas’ neck to his shoulder by his shirt, then slides his hand over, palm coming to a rest on between his shoulder blades. ]
…I wanna take you out. Will you go out with me?
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he tips his head in a half-nod, a punctuation to the confirmation he gives out loud. ]
I'll go out with you, Dean.
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[ a date. As real one. ]
Not right now though. This is nice.
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[ not right now, no. but there's something kind of nice about planning ahead for it. normally, their plans all involve preparing for the end of the world.
nothing bad will happen if they choose the wrong restaurant. they can just go to another. ]
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[ For now, he’s sliding his hand up, fingers tentative in the angels hair as he guides him back down to lay on his chest. ]
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Have you been to any of the restaurants?
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[ he’s got research to do later. He’s a little distracted with an angel on him at the moment. ]
We can play pinball at the arcade.
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I will.
[ it’s been a while since he’s had someone in his bed like this. He’s not sure if the last Cas counts, it was so fleeting, but this is good. Really good. ]
It’s easy. You’ll probably be good at it.
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[ unless you count samhain, he's never shared a bed with anyone before. he's probably giving it more conscious due than it deserves. the arrangement of his limbs, hairy knees brushing dean's outer thighs every so often when they shift, the amount of his body touching dean's at any given moment and with what amount of pressure. the psychological effect that it produces, and the way the feeling translates to him from physical body to non-physical manifestation. chemical processes written in one language translated into another.
it's an original experiment.
at least, for him. he deliberately doesn't linger on the thought of anna. (he thinks, bitterly, she had known exactly what she wanted.) ]
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I’m decent. No champions, but I can snag a high score.
[ Anna is so far in the past she isn’t a thought. That Angel food cake is long gone. ]
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Have you been enjoying your time at the arcade?
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Yeah. Livin the dream. You should come by more often. Beers on me.
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[ he can't make drinks. he doesn't know anything about maintaining a place of entertainment. and at the current juncture, he's explored as much of etraya as he can. now— what does he do with himself? he has to do something. he has to make himself useful.
he's been useless since the day he's arrived. he curls his fingers in the front of dean's shirt, trying to warm them. his other hand he wedges beneath dean's shoulder. ]
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[ he shifts to let Cas jam his jams under, turning his head a little, soft hair brushing against his face. Cas smells good. ]
Are you cold?
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... Yes.
[ he is cold. he really shouldn't be. ]
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