Date: 20 Jan 2016 04:42 (UTC)
heavenonearth: (.016)
[ castiel definitely shoots him a withering glance for not only taking, but finishing the rest of his very own beer. he's not much of a drinker, to be honest, and when he does drink it's generally harder stuff, he doesn't really have a taste for beer. but he doesn't hate it, and he enjoys doing it with dean, it makes him feel included, it's something they can do and enjoy together.

he doesn't complain, only sighs and reaches for the cooler, pulling out a fresh can, which he presses into the palm of dean's hand, then a second one for himself, thank you very much. ]


Maybe. But I can't fly, Dean.

[ he says, because of course he's taking this literally, of course he doesn't entirely see where dean is coming from.

oh, but how nice it would be if he could, if the wings so painstakingly etched onto his back could unfurl and take him high and higher, away from this wretched planet packed with misery and loss and into the cosmos. he'd sail the stars for an eternity without complaint, and maybe, for once, understand the concept of home and belonging, feel at ease in his surroundings, in his own skin, things he has only ever known once, and all too briefly.

but he feels it a little with sam and dean, he thinks. he is comfortable around them in ways that are very rare for him, mostly, he thinks, because they accept him for who he is, they don't make fun of him, or try to change him, like his brothers always have, like his classmates and his peers always have. he tries not to read too much into it, tries not to take advantage of it because things like that have a way of falling apart, of ruining you. ]
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