( that's what instincts are for, of course. for giving in and acting without thinking of the repercussions, for every little bit of conscience to be thrown out the window in favor of letting the true nature of desire take hold, bring in that which has been coveted for far too long. dean is far more likely to throw what little bit of a conscience he has in the backseat and forget about it entirely than to weigh his options, pick the best course of action – which means that when those fingers curl into the lapel of his jacket, it's far more than he'd ever thought to expect from this quiet, stoic little nerd, but he can't very well say he isn't pleased by it.
because, if he's honest, he's been wondering what it would take to get him to make a move. do something other than look at him like he has been for the better part of the past month, with eyes so wide that he's almost sure to be swallowed up by them if he chances keeping contact for too long, those longing little gaze that he's pretty sure cas himself doesn't realize he's giving. it's all too much, and too little, and of course he's going to be the one ending up making the first move, because it would be too much like something simple if the other were the one to set things in motion. to get the ball rolling. to do anything at all that would give rise to the tension that's been so slowly building between them.
again, he's never gentle by any means, but the touch of lips to lips is one that almost feels hesitant. at least in the sense of the initial contact, a brush of skin against skin that he nearly immediately seeks to deepen with the light press of his teeth, mouth falling open just enough to get a better taste than he's already gotten. it's a heady thing, to finally have something that he can't deny he's been thinking about off and on for long enough for it to count, like finally leveling out a race that had started off as a jog and has been kicked up to a sprint.
he feels that shiver, of course he does, and he doesn't bother hiding the way his lips curl into a grin, something he ends up accentuating with the slightest flick of his tongue as the other's arms come up, smooth over his shoulders and unconsciously drag him in closer. more like his body acts of its own accord, leaning in and in and in until he's just short of hovering over him, broad shoulders enough to hide the line of view from anyone that might be looking their way from his back. it's almost dizzying, really, to finally have this, even as small as it is – but he's never had qualms about taking what he wants before, and he sure as hell isn't about to start now. )
no subject
because, if he's honest, he's been wondering what it would take to get him to make a move. do something other than look at him like he has been for the better part of the past month, with eyes so wide that he's almost sure to be swallowed up by them if he chances keeping contact for too long, those longing little gaze that he's pretty sure cas himself doesn't realize he's giving. it's all too much, and too little, and of course he's going to be the one ending up making the first move, because it would be too much like something simple if the other were the one to set things in motion. to get the ball rolling. to do anything at all that would give rise to the tension that's been so slowly building between them.
again, he's never gentle by any means, but the touch of lips to lips is one that almost feels hesitant. at least in the sense of the initial contact, a brush of skin against skin that he nearly immediately seeks to deepen with the light press of his teeth, mouth falling open just enough to get a better taste than he's already gotten. it's a heady thing, to finally have something that he can't deny he's been thinking about off and on for long enough for it to count, like finally leveling out a race that had started off as a jog and has been kicked up to a sprint.
he feels that shiver, of course he does, and he doesn't bother hiding the way his lips curl into a grin, something he ends up accentuating with the slightest flick of his tongue as the other's arms come up, smooth over his shoulders and unconsciously drag him in closer. more like his body acts of its own accord, leaning in and in and in until he's just short of hovering over him, broad shoulders enough to hide the line of view from anyone that might be looking their way from his back. it's almost dizzying, really, to finally have this, even as small as it is – but he's never had qualms about taking what he wants before, and he sure as hell isn't about to start now. )