( he really, really should get out of the habit of saying things just to see how others react to them; it's something he's done as far back as he can remember, always ready not only to start a fight but to finish it, though that hadn't been his intention when the words had slipped out of his mouth this time around. mostly, he's testing the waters, feeling castiel out for the sake of knowing what he might be getting himself into in the future – if he chooses to keep ruffling his feathers like this.
it's harmless. it really is. and if he thinks he doesn't notice the way he flushes at the touch of his rough hand, he has another thing coming. dean might not let anything show outwardly, but there are tiny little receptors picking up on every little detail, every subtle shift, and anyone that has ever accused him of being unobservant deserves a punch right to the mouth. even if he's never made it abundantly clear that he's even capable of surveying his surroundings for anything less than a classic car or a nice pair of legs.
he doesn't keep up the contact for long, but he does make a point of all but dragging the tips of his oil-stained fingers over the inside of castiel's palm, just to be sure to leave the slightest bit of a smudge behind. dark, gritty, just like the rest of him, and the grin he gives is genuine when – ) Well, you should get 'em dirty every once in a while. You'd be surprised how good it feels.
( and then he's letting go, reaching again for the rag to – presumably – take at least a single layer of grime off of the surface of his hands, when realistically, at this point it only adds to it. a brow goes up, and he makes a thoughtful sound. ) Stars, then, huh … I can see it, I guess. About as much as I can see science in anybody. ( a beat. ) Sammy, he's been fascinated with all living things ( and yes, he's waving his hands around a bit in that all-encompassing motion that … well, encompasses the whole of everything ) since he was old enough to wander off and poke at tadpoles.
no subject
it's harmless. it really is. and if he thinks he doesn't notice the way he flushes at the touch of his rough hand, he has another thing coming. dean might not let anything show outwardly, but there are tiny little receptors picking up on every little detail, every subtle shift, and anyone that has ever accused him of being unobservant deserves a punch right to the mouth. even if he's never made it abundantly clear that he's even capable of surveying his surroundings for anything less than a classic car or a nice pair of legs.
he doesn't keep up the contact for long, but he does make a point of all but dragging the tips of his oil-stained fingers over the inside of castiel's palm, just to be sure to leave the slightest bit of a smudge behind. dark, gritty, just like the rest of him, and the grin he gives is genuine when – ) Well, you should get 'em dirty every once in a while. You'd be surprised how good it feels.
( and then he's letting go, reaching again for the rag to – presumably – take at least a single layer of grime off of the surface of his hands, when realistically, at this point it only adds to it. a brow goes up, and he makes a thoughtful sound. ) Stars, then, huh … I can see it, I guess. About as much as I can see science in anybody. ( a beat. ) Sammy, he's been fascinated with all living things ( and yes, he's waving his hands around a bit in that all-encompassing motion that … well, encompasses the whole of everything ) since he was old enough to wander off and poke at tadpoles.