( it's a little uncanny, really, when he thinks about how different they are when it comes to pursuing what they want. dean winchester couldn't be timid even if he tried, could never be unsure no matter what sort of signals he might be getting from the focal point of his interest. his ego would never allow for it, and it's usually all he can do to keep the damn thing in check – which, really, doesn't happen very often and frequently results in one of those moments in which he makes himself an insufferable, obnoxious piece of garbage, but he can't very well say that it doesn't get him what he wants in the long run.
dean … knows he's a problem. an issue. knows that others find him attractive – both men and women, the bastard – and he would have been lying to himself and everyone else if he said that he didn't often use it to his advantage, that he didn't flirt just for the sake of doing so, to see where it gets him or how fidgety it can make the target. that charm, while it can be dialed down a bit is never fully off, and around someone like castiel it's been going nearly full force since the moment he'd walked into the garage and made himself a staple presence not only in sam's life, but his own.
it might be the beer in his system that has him pushing forward with his own intentions, but this one has never thought to do anything other than work to get what he wants, and right now, it's directly in front of him. pushing as close as he can get, finding courage with every passing moment and licking into his mouth with a streak of boldness that almost seems out of place – does seem out of place if he really thinks about it, for all he's been the quiet and unassuming little thing he's been expecting up until now. but even as surprising as it is, he likes it, shows as much with the almost-gentle, playful nip to the plush skin of his bottom lip, drinking in the soft sound that slips free as easily as he might have taken a sip from his beer.
it's quickly becoming intoxicating, kissing him, leaning lightly into the touch of hands to his face and along his jaw, the breaths catching and collecting in the back of his throat tasting of want and him, the low purr of his voice nothing but pleased as he pulls away just long enough to let one of those breaths go in a slow exhale, appreciative and just this side of awed. )
Damn.
( yeah, incredibly eloquent there, killer. he leans back in for another slow pull from those lips, easy and smooth and deep, the whole of his attention attuned to the reactions he's getting, the crackle and shimmer of a spark between them, the way every single molecule in their bodies seems perfectly angled toward one another. )
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Date: 27 Jan 2016 17:50 (UTC)dean … knows he's a problem. an issue. knows that others find him attractive – both men and women, the bastard – and he would have been lying to himself and everyone else if he said that he didn't often use it to his advantage, that he didn't flirt just for the sake of doing so, to see where it gets him or how fidgety it can make the target. that charm, while it can be dialed down a bit is never fully off, and around someone like castiel it's been going nearly full force since the moment he'd walked into the garage and made himself a staple presence not only in sam's life, but his own.
it might be the beer in his system that has him pushing forward with his own intentions, but this one has never thought to do anything other than work to get what he wants, and right now, it's directly in front of him. pushing as close as he can get, finding courage with every passing moment and licking into his mouth with a streak of boldness that almost seems out of place – does seem out of place if he really thinks about it, for all he's been the quiet and unassuming little thing he's been expecting up until now. but even as surprising as it is, he likes it, shows as much with the almost-gentle, playful nip to the plush skin of his bottom lip, drinking in the soft sound that slips free as easily as he might have taken a sip from his beer.
it's quickly becoming intoxicating, kissing him, leaning lightly into the touch of hands to his face and along his jaw, the breaths catching and collecting in the back of his throat tasting of want and him, the low purr of his voice nothing but pleased as he pulls away just long enough to let one of those breaths go in a slow exhale, appreciative and just this side of awed. )
Damn.
( yeah, incredibly eloquent there, killer. he leans back in for another slow pull from those lips, easy and smooth and deep, the whole of his attention attuned to the reactions he's getting, the crackle and shimmer of a spark between them, the way every single molecule in their bodies seems perfectly angled toward one another. )
Yep … just like I thought.