[ If he had minded any of it, he wouldn't have forced Dean into the room.
Maybe it's a little strange though, watching him relax and trying to figure out the last time either of them had really had this opportunity--to be this close and talk about something so... important. Castiel hasn't forgotten what's driven Dean to him, why he's still drunk and why there's a broken bottle of alcohol covering the floor outside his dorm room. He's already made plans to speak with Sam and Lucifer, though he will put one off far more than the other until he can't any longer. That is what he's going to do, but later. Now is this, and he has to decide whether or not he's going to pursue half the thoughts in his head.
Eventually, he settles on one, nudging him with his leg as he shifts to peel himself out of the thin jacket he wears over the faded blue one he still has from home. ]
I hope you don't mind sharing.
[ Because as generous as he's been, he's still selfish. Castiel likes his bed, though it's hardly what he'd had before being dragged here, and he's not selfless enough to sleep on the floor. That, and he finds it amusing in some context should his roommate return and find them there together.
He rests a hand on the bed and leans, hovering as if he's about to crawl over him before he moves and pushes whatever part of Dean out of the way he needs to. His leg, his hip, his arm. The bed is small, and it's far too cramped for two grown men. Yet, that doesn't stop him from stretching out right beside him. Back to him at first, he finds that more uncomfortable than the proximity and turns to look at him, almost a dare for the other to say something about it. ]
ROLLS OFF A CLIFF
Maybe it's a little strange though, watching him relax and trying to figure out the last time either of them had really had this opportunity--to be this close and talk about something so... important. Castiel hasn't forgotten what's driven Dean to him, why he's still drunk and why there's a broken bottle of alcohol covering the floor outside his dorm room. He's already made plans to speak with Sam and Lucifer, though he will put one off far more than the other until he can't any longer. That is what he's going to do, but later. Now is this, and he has to decide whether or not he's going to pursue half the thoughts in his head.
Eventually, he settles on one, nudging him with his leg as he shifts to peel himself out of the thin jacket he wears over the faded blue one he still has from home. ]
I hope you don't mind sharing.
[ Because as generous as he's been, he's still selfish. Castiel likes his bed, though it's hardly what he'd had before being dragged here, and he's not selfless enough to sleep on the floor. That, and he finds it amusing in some context should his roommate return and find them there together.
He rests a hand on the bed and leans, hovering as if he's about to crawl over him before he moves and pushes whatever part of Dean out of the way he needs to. His leg, his hip, his arm. The bed is small, and it's far too cramped for two grown men. Yet, that doesn't stop him from stretching out right beside him. Back to him at first, he finds that more uncomfortable than the proximity and turns to look at him, almost a dare for the other to say something about it. ]