[ castiel is, as a rule, terrible about picking up on dropped hints, terrible at knowing and understanding when someone is flirting with him, or god forbid, interested in him. for all of his smarts it's certainly a shortcoming. he's blind to it. blind to people.
but still, when he turns his head just enough to glance up toward dean, to look into his eyes, he can't help or deny the quiet electric pulse he feels, the way it passes through him like a current, sharp and sudden, coursing down his spine.
castiel would never presume to think that anyone was into him, least of all someone like dean winchester, the notorious playboy, who chases cute girls, confident, sexy girls, who could have anyone he ever wanted with just a glance. but the way dean is looking at him now, eyes dark for how little light there is to see by -- it's enough to make his body tighten, a heat rushing in him that pools in his gut, suggestive, imperative. thank heaven it's dark enough to hide the warmth in his face, and thank heaven he's lying on his back for all that his knees have gone weak.
he's a hopeless wreck, and dean winchester has so fully and completely ensnared him. ]
.. me too.
[ he says at last, his voice low and quiet, and it seems impossible to disguise the longing there, the way his breath stills and words left unsaid crowd his tongue, caught behind his teeth. thoughtlessly, castiel's hand moves over the grass, fingers wrapping loosely in the lapel of dean's leather jacket, so close he can catch the scent of it. ]
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Date: 25 Jan 2016 07:14 (UTC)but still, when he turns his head just enough to glance up toward dean, to look into his eyes, he can't help or deny the quiet electric pulse he feels, the way it passes through him like a current, sharp and sudden, coursing down his spine.
castiel would never presume to think that anyone was into him, least of all someone like dean winchester, the notorious playboy, who chases cute girls, confident, sexy girls, who could have anyone he ever wanted with just a glance. but the way dean is looking at him now, eyes dark for how little light there is to see by -- it's enough to make his body tighten, a heat rushing in him that pools in his gut, suggestive, imperative. thank heaven it's dark enough to hide the warmth in his face, and thank heaven he's lying on his back for all that his knees have gone weak.
he's a hopeless wreck, and dean winchester has so fully and completely ensnared him. ]
.. me too.
[ he says at last, his voice low and quiet, and it seems impossible to disguise the longing there, the way his breath stills and words left unsaid crowd his tongue, caught behind his teeth. thoughtlessly, castiel's hand moves over the grass, fingers wrapping loosely in the lapel of dean's leather jacket, so close he can catch the scent of it. ]