( ah, sam used to be like that, too. more as a teenager than when he'd finally stopped tripping over his own feet, but he still has a penchant for getting tongue-tied when he's nervous, and damned if it isn't one of the cutest things he's ever seen. castiel reminds him a lot of those earlier years, looking a bit too much like a deer in the headlights to be a member of the graduate program, but hey – not everyone can be as smooth as one dean winchester, can they?
well. they can hope, aspire to be, but there can be only one. dean is the highlander of smooth operators.
( yes, that just happened. and no, there is no coming back from it. what's done is done, and you're just going to have to deal with it. )
he plays well at being all those things castiel is currently noticing about him; all that smoothness, the ease with which he interacts with anyone around him, quick with a smile or a laugh or a stupid joke. really, it all comes from being more of an extrovert than his brother, which isn't all that difficult, truth be told – but he's always picked up where sammy has left off, making it easier on the kid without him really knowing it, and maybe he's picked up a thing or two from their dad along the way, because if anything can be said about john winchester, it's that he's the man that dean is always going to aspire to be.
whether he willingly acknowledges it or not.
he's looking forward to seeing what kind of reaction his wink merits him – and, truthfully, he isn't all that disappointed. petulance is kind of cute on the guy, all things considered, and with the way he tilts his chin up like that, it gives him a nice view of that long, pale throat, something that he finds himself gazing at for a bit longer than he cares to admit, more than he thinks he can get away with, and he breaks contact long enough to saunter over to the mini-fridge up against the far wall, bending low to reach the bottom shelf and extract a bottle.
never mind that such an action nearly bends him double, and his grungy t-shirt rides up the slightest bit in the back. never mind that at all, because it's there and gone just as quickly as it takes to right himself as he twists off the cap and tosses it into the nearby trash. ) Your loss – it's the good stuff. Never skimp on the beer. ( he raises the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull, a satisfied sort of rumble sifting up from the back of his throat as he swallows. )
Ah, good boy, Sammy … he's always had this weird sixth sense thing when it comes to knowing when I'm hungry. ( and here, there's a cheeky sort of grin, because he knows this has to be one of their study dates, and who in the world even invited you, greaser!? the nerve! ) What's he bringing back?
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Date: 30 Dec 2015 04:36 (UTC)well. they can hope, aspire to be, but there can be only one. dean is the highlander of smooth operators.
( yes, that just happened. and no, there is no coming back from it. what's done is done, and you're just going to have to deal with it. )
he plays well at being all those things castiel is currently noticing about him; all that smoothness, the ease with which he interacts with anyone around him, quick with a smile or a laugh or a stupid joke. really, it all comes from being more of an extrovert than his brother, which isn't all that difficult, truth be told – but he's always picked up where sammy has left off, making it easier on the kid without him really knowing it, and maybe he's picked up a thing or two from their dad along the way, because if anything can be said about john winchester, it's that he's the man that dean is always going to aspire to be.
whether he willingly acknowledges it or not.
he's looking forward to seeing what kind of reaction his wink merits him – and, truthfully, he isn't all that disappointed. petulance is kind of cute on the guy, all things considered, and with the way he tilts his chin up like that, it gives him a nice view of that long, pale throat, something that he finds himself gazing at for a bit longer than he cares to admit, more than he thinks he can get away with, and he breaks contact long enough to saunter over to the mini-fridge up against the far wall, bending low to reach the bottom shelf and extract a bottle.
never mind that such an action nearly bends him double, and his grungy t-shirt rides up the slightest bit in the back. never mind that at all, because it's there and gone just as quickly as it takes to right himself as he twists off the cap and tosses it into the nearby trash. ) Your loss – it's the good stuff. Never skimp on the beer. ( he raises the bottle to his lips and takes a long pull, a satisfied sort of rumble sifting up from the back of his throat as he swallows. )
Ah, good boy, Sammy … he's always had this weird sixth sense thing when it comes to knowing when I'm hungry. ( and here, there's a cheeky sort of grin, because he knows this has to be one of their study dates, and who in the world even invited you, greaser!? the nerve! ) What's he bringing back?