[ unfortunately for castiel, he's not exactly accustomed to being liked at all, even platonically, let alone further, and the concept of kicking someone in the ankle to show them your affection is entirely lost on him. the few people he's ever been close with have always been more or less direct, taking from him what they wanted rather than waiting for him to come around and realize what they were after because for all castiel is razor-edge smart, he's inarguably obtuse when it comes to matters of the heart, more likely to pine for the rest of his life than ever chase the things he wants.
relationships, after all, are fragile, and castiel isn't like dean, he doesn't make friends easily, can't talk with people like others can. those friendships that he manages to build are precious gemstones to be guarded fiercely, to never be jeopardized by such trivial things as lust, no matter how handsome and devilishly shameless dean is. dean's like that with everyone. he's a natural flirt, a skirt-chaser, wild and free and certainly not someone that a guy like castiel would ever have a chance with. and that's fine. he's content just being dean's friend, simply sharing his life is a privilege, and castiel is thankful for it.
but god, he sure does make it difficult when he grins lopsided and says things like that. castiel promptly ignores it.
once dean's going on about passion, though, castiel's eyes lower to his face again, careful and steady. what dean calls passion, most have called obsession and abnormality. he'd learned to simply stop talking about it, to not bring it up unless he's asked directly, or if not, then to not expect to be looked upon as anything but weird. he's weird. he knows it. he's accepted it. he's always been weird, he will always be weird. beyond meg, dean is the first person to ever speak of it like it was something positive. ]
I would miss him too. [ he says, quietly, not really sure what to make of that, of what sam has to do with any of it. his eyes drop again, thoughtful and solemn, and he toys idly with the half-drained can of beer between them. ] Thankfully for him, that isn't possible. I won't be going anywhere.
no subject
relationships, after all, are fragile, and castiel isn't like dean, he doesn't make friends easily, can't talk with people like others can. those friendships that he manages to build are precious gemstones to be guarded fiercely, to never be jeopardized by such trivial things as lust, no matter how handsome and devilishly shameless dean is. dean's like that with everyone. he's a natural flirt, a skirt-chaser, wild and free and certainly not someone that a guy like castiel would ever have a chance with. and that's fine. he's content just being dean's friend, simply sharing his life is a privilege, and castiel is thankful for it.
but god, he sure does make it difficult when he grins lopsided and says things like that. castiel promptly ignores it.
once dean's going on about passion, though, castiel's eyes lower to his face again, careful and steady. what dean calls passion, most have called obsession and abnormality. he'd learned to simply stop talking about it, to not bring it up unless he's asked directly, or if not, then to not expect to be looked upon as anything but weird. he's weird. he knows it. he's accepted it. he's always been weird, he will always be weird. beyond meg, dean is the first person to ever speak of it like it was something positive. ]
I would miss him too. [ he says, quietly, not really sure what to make of that, of what sam has to do with any of it. his eyes drop again, thoughtful and solemn, and he toys idly with the half-drained can of beer between them. ] Thankfully for him, that isn't possible. I won't be going anywhere.