[ dean expects cas to leave, to go back to bed. something, anything, but not for him to lean closer again, rag in had as he wipes at dean's face. flecks of blood come off, the splattering of them over his features more than dean would have thought earlier. but then, he's not one to care about getting a little messy when it's about life and death.
the laugh though, that tenses him up sharply, has him looking at cas darkly. if he's laughing at dean... ]
What?
[ huff huff. dean's better arm flexes at his side, where he grips down on the table... out of frustration or stopping himself from reaching out, dean's not sure, but he ignores the desires all the same in favor of just pinning cas with that dark expression of his.
and the question gets en equally short answer; ]
...No.
[ he still makes no attempt to move, to do anything else. he just sits there, with cas' hand against his chest, eyes on his friend's. he doesn't feel tired even if the day was full of action. in fact, he feels wide away, something buzzing under his skin, something finally starting to dull the pain. and right under cas' hand, his heart hammers away, loud and strong. ]
[ There's only the slightest shake of his head, smile still present even as the laugh slips into silence. ]
You just-- [ Castiel leans back an inch. ] You're always taking care of everyone else and never as concerned about yourself. It's good, I think - that you're letting me do this for you.
[ Because he would have--always. Whether by less than conventional means or with his own hands, Castiel would do anything and everything in his power to see Dean safe and less reckless. He knows that the years they've lived have messed them up, torn them far from the path they might have walked had Sam never said yes, but it's not the most important thing to worry about. It's that they have each other, that they're there because they want to be and need to be.
His expression softens just a fraction more, dropping the rag and slipping his hand down to drag his thumb over Dean's knuckles. Absently working out the tension that runs up his arm. ]
It's nice. [ Different, welcome. ] You're, uhm...
[ A shrug then, almost sheepish, like he's playing at the edges of a few words that should never be said between them. It's easier to touch and press close than it is to talk about it. So, that's what Castiel does: he tilts his head and kisses him again. Kisses him to shut out his own thoughts and to shut himself up. ]
[ it's an odd thing to say, and not something dean had really actively thought about. he's always just-- wanted those around him to be alright. those he cares about, even now. sam, cas... he wants them alright, alive and breathing. and whether or not that means him doing okay, it's never mattered. not to him, not since before he can remember.
but it's odd to have someone say it, quiet and soft as cas does. ]
Sewing up my arm sucks more than lettin' you do it.
[ cas had been convenient, and dean had known no amount of denying cas the chance to help would have actually worked. it's only after cas has spoken, as he runs his thumb over dean's hand, that he realizes the frustration has eased again into something quiet, and less demanding.
how cas is having this effect on him lately, dean doesn't know... but it's nice, too.
you're, uhm...
he almost wants to hear the rest, but the kiss that comes is much more welcome. the taste is still so new, so exciting, that dean only breathes a quiet, relieved sound against cas' mouth, his healthy arm slipping to his friend's side, hand sliding over cas' hip, and then to the small of his back, pressing him closer. it doesn't stop hitting him, how he hasn't had anything like this is in so long-- not since... before everything. and what this might be, exactly, still escapes him, is something he doesn't want to think about. but for now it's good.
it's the best thing he's had in a long time. and dean wants to enjoy it for whoever long or short it'll last, which is what he does as he bites quietly down onto cas' bottom lip, tugging at the soft flesh before pressing in again, hungrier. ]
[ That's hardly what he means, but the weight of the kiss distracts him from making another comment about it.
Castiel might explain it later, much later, when those pills have kicked in and Dean's so much more compliant than he is right now. Part of it, he's sure, is the fact he's still in pain, and the rest-- Well, he'd always assumed to know a good deal of the other man's preferences. After all, Castiel's mirrored his in a lot of ways, but even after all this time, he's still managed to surprise him, to shake him up and keep him on his toes. He supposes that's why he's always liked Dean--the unpredictability when he'd figures it to be straight and narrow.
The teeth digging into his lip causes him to shudder, and every little thought not pertaining to where they touch or what he's doing with his mouth shuts off. Castiel pushes and uses more of his tongue now, parting those lips and kissing him until he's straining for breath. Even then, he keeps pace, his palm skirting up a thigh and mimicking the brief touch to his hip. He curls his fingers into the waistline of his pants, gripping tight to the material in order to keep them from wandering further. If he could-- The leverage of that hold helps him drag him just a bit forward, closer to the edge of the table so that he's standing between Dean's legs and carefully wrapping himself around him, conscientious of his injury.
If it lasts, if it doesn't— ]
--bed. [ It's half mumbled against his mouth, sucking in a ragged breath before pressing another kiss to his chin. ] I, we should...
[ He's a little too distracted to actually explain he'd really prefer to not have to half drag him to the mattress, which means he's even less concerned with the fact it sounds like an invitation. Castiel only tugs at the loops of Dean's jeans, insistent. ]
[ dean feels like fire inside. it's different from the hot pain shooting up his arm, because that's becoming number and number, as if the pain of it is being swallowed by each bite and lick of cas' mouth. he feels, though he dares only to think about it for a hot second or two, much like a teenager, all eager and alive-- and good, so good. he'd never thought this possible, but here it is, here they are, and dean doesn't want to let it go.
instead, as cas reels himself closer, one leg hooks loosely around his friends, keeping him there and pressing him even closer.
dean's pushing in for another kiss even as cas mumbles that single word, drinking it up right from his mouth until it registers. there isn't much of a beat before dean stifles a quiet laugh of all things against cas' lips, half-kiss, half pleased sound.
he doesn't make a move to do as requested though, not when he's starting to feel nice and comfy right here, with cas pressed close and the heat of his body seeping into dean's. ]
Just c'mere, come closer...
[ his other arm might be useless, but he can be demanding with just one, which curls around cas with possessiveness, hand twisting into the cloth of his shirt, bunching it together while his fingers brush over the skin underneath. ]
[ He only gets a second to suck in another breath before everything turns itself upside-down.
Of all the things they could be doing, of everything they've ever done-- It's really difficult to wrap his mind around this, how easy they've fallen into it and how quickly things are escalating. From a kiss to this? There's really no overthinking though, twisting just a little to press himself closer and closer still. He's not going to deny either of them whatever happens, greedy enough to take it, and there's a very visible flush working across his cheeks and down his neck from the way Dean laughs. It's a good sound, an even better indication that it's not just a meaningless thing. Castiel feels remarkably giddy with it, moving and arching and leaning into him.
A breathy murmur, Dean's name on the tip of his tongue, and he grazes his mouth along his jaw. To an ear. ]
How close?
[ He whispers it against the lobe, kissing there and just beneath as he nuzzles into him. There's a tremor to his fingers as they slip down to toy with the hem of his shirt, waiting it out and listening to the hard hammer of his heartbeat when he swallows. All he has to do is give him some clue that anything beyond kissing is more than okay. Just the slightest nod or a yes--
Castiel decides he wants to hear it, turning back to kiss him again and repeat the words.
[ where there is fire in his veins, there's a cloudy, lightness in his head. he feels... half-present, slowly detached yet in a good way, where all he has to concentrate on is cas, is his mouth. nothing more, nothing less, just cas, cas and more cas. ]
Closer--
[ he breathes back, chasing that flush down cas' throat, to the side of his neck. teeth and tongue leave marks along is way, taste the sweat and flavor of his skin, needy for more, slowly aching for it. cas' meaning might be somewhat lost to him though, in the haze of good and comfort. dean hasn't thought beyond kissing, tasting yet, no matter how his body reacts. normally, back home, all of his encounter were quick and messy, no time for kissing.
his hand slides back away from cas' back, over a hip, right until his fingers are burying past the waistline of his pasts, gripping him from the front and tugging.
[ There's really nothing to do but close his eyes and groan a little.
He likes the biting, never really realizing how much until Dean insisted on using his teeth, and the yank he gives him causes him to lurch forward more than he's prepared for, hands freeing themselves quick enough to slap against the table. Castiel pins Dean's thighs between them, stretching up to return those kisses over and over even as he considers gently pushing Dean back and climbing atop him.
It's a short-lived thought when his hips rock into the edge of it, and he shivers, panting against the curve of his mouth. ]
Dean —
[ He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what else to do. He wants-- There's so much that Castiel wants, so much he's afraid to just take, and he revels in the closeness for as long as he can, eventually lifting a hand to cup the side of his face. He presses their foreheads together again, pushes just slightly so their noses touch, and he allows himself to breath, to feel the dampness of Dean's lips and the warmth of each exhale. It's more than enough knowing he has him now, has him in ways that had never really occurred to him, had practically presented itself each time they'd come together. How backwards they are, seeking comfort in the worst ways.
His thumb gently traces the hard ridge of his cheekbone, holding himself still and quietly asking for the other man to hold him like this. Just a little longer, at least until the drugs really start to take affect and he has to end it. ]
[ despite the hunger for more, his limbs are starting to feel heavy, sluggish. drugs have never been dean's thing, he could never sink himself into the habit the same way cas did. sure, he'd taken part in some stuff all through his life, though less when he'd hunted with sam, and even less afterwards.
it's the only reason he isn't up now, isn't pinning cas against the nearest surface available and taking what he wants. ]
Don't stop.
[ his face feels hot, just like cas' when the other man presses his forehead to dean's. he wants his mouth back on his, wants more skin to bite, to bruise...
except he's tilting his head into the touch, the solid feeling of cas' hand welcome as he watches him from under half-lidded eyes. he could watch him like this for a long time, trace the angles of his face, the shape of his mouth, his eyes... it's all a lot more endearing than he'd normally let himself think, yet here he is, wanting to just press right back in again and taste all of it.
all the while, the anger which is usually so present in him, is gone.
instead, dean feels like he's three minutes from either falling to his side, or into cas. whichever comes first. ]
[ He really doesn't want to, but he thinks he probably should.
Castiel's still far too observant, picking up on the trace amounts of slur in his words and the heated touch of his skin as he rests against him. He can feel his eyes on him through all of it, purposely keeping his shut as he considers what to do. Perhaps, if nothing goes wrong, they can pursue this later. There's time. For once, in so many years, they actually have it to spare. He thinks it would be good to take this slow, test it out. He is, after all, perfectly fine with experimenting and finding where things might lead.
There's a low noise in the back of his throat, almost a scoff. Then, he's tilting his head back and lifting up just enough to press a kiss to his forehead. ]
Come on.
[ He still caresses the side of his face, fingers curving gently against his jaw. ] You should lay down.
[ Or make it somewhere that isn't the table. Their bed is the final destination, and no matter how many times, he'll say it again if he has to. He's really not in the mood to be dragging Dean across the room with him half out of his mind from some painkillers. In hindsight, he probably should have given him one and called it a night. He gives another sigh, soft and quiet before kissing the corner of his mouth as if to say please. ]
[ lay down? he could do that, it could be nice. he could do so right next to cas, press right against him and breathe in that familiar scent that he's slowly starting to get addicted to, finds it that when he wakes up with his face buried in cas' hair those mornings aren't the worst.
so yeah, he could go lay down. sure. ]
...M'you're right.
[ with the kiss, dean starts pushing away from the table with that, against cas right until he's stepping away from him too. it takes only another step for dean to wobble, to falter in his step as he tries for the bedroom. one hand shoots out blindly for cas, grips him wherever he can. ]
Jesus, t'hell did you give me...
[ but as he'd reached out, dean realizes it's with his injured arm, which has him blinking down at the length of it like it's entirely new, like he's been cured of some horrendous disease. ]
[ He's immediately there the instant he starts to topple, sliding an arm around his waist in order to steady him, and it's not until Dean makes that particular comment that he realizes he's holding onto him with the arm he's just sewed up. Castiel gently pushes it down, staring at the bandage as he does so. Still slightly pink, no outstanding red, and he breathes a bit easier even as he sighs. ]
You're going to rip the stitches if you're not careful. [ Always so careless, even high on painkillers. He rolls his eyes. ] Lean on me.
[ Since that's the only way they're going to make it to the bed.
Castiel takes more of his weight and walks with him, half dragging him in an attempt to make it there a lot faster. There's still the concern of getting Dean out of those bloody clothes, and perhaps he'd miscalculated the time it should have taken for the medicine to work, storing the information away in case he'd have need of it again. And once there, once they make it to the mattress, he kicks the blankets aside to make room for them. ]
Easy.
[ The only command he gives him, doing his best to help him down onto it without knocking them both over or falling on him. ]
[ he's the leader here-- what was it, fearless leader, right? that's him, not cas, him. but he does lean on cas, can't really help himself from doing so once cas takes most of his weight. he hasn't been this useless in a long time, this out of it.
but cas is the only one to blame for that, so he gets to deal with it.
once in the bedroom, dean settles down with little difficulty, sprawling out over the mattress like it's the most comfortable thing. he's grabbing a pillow too, and pressing his face into it with a deep sigh... only cracking open an eye to look at cas. ]
C'mere already.
[ twisting his body, he's on his back a moment later, injured arm lightly at his side, bending at the elbow as his hand splays over his stomach, fingers toying with the cloth of his slowly riding up shirt. cas should lie down next to him, press against him and just be there...
that's not asking for too much, right? but then, and his eyes drop from cas as his thoughts take over, maybe it is. since when has he deserved something good in his life?
or maybe he can save the broodier thoughts for the morning. ]
[ There's a snort of annoyance at the comment, choosing to ignore it rather than chase a fight. It's not as if he should have to explain he's doing it to help him, but then, Dean has always been particular stubborn in some aspects. Castiel only goes with it, letting him take over once the difficult part is done. None of this seems out of what's slowly becoming ordinary from them except the very obvious invitation.
To join him.
He stares at him for a moment, tossing the idea around in his head. He's not tired, but-- A slight shake of his head, and he's dropping down onto his knees, easily navigating the small space to stretch out beside him along the side that's not hurt. ]
You're being difficult. [ Though his tone is light, almost teasing. ] Is this what you wanted?
[ Because he's carefully turning onto his side to face him, propped up by an arm and freely observing Dean spread out the way he is. He takes the position of his body into account, the slight bit of skin he can see from the way his shirt bunches up. Castiel wants to reach out and tug it down or slip his fingers under it to feel how warm he is, but he only uses his free hand to reach out and rest it on Dean's.
He's probably going to be in a lot of pain come morning, and Castiel wishes, not for the first time, that he could take it all away somehow. ]
[ dean looks pleased as cas drops down and crawls next to him, only turning his head to watch him once cas is comfortable. the touch at his hand is... dean doesn't know what to call it, but it only gets a glance and then his eyes are back on cas'. he's feeling tired now, finally, the sluggishness and heaviness in his limbs finally starting to drain his energy. ]
But y'know how to handle me.
[ which is probably another key to why all of this has happened the way it did, why they're here now after an especially interesting evening.
it's also why dean presses closer, just an inch, with a sigh. he doesn't offer anymore words after that, as it takes very little for the drugs cas had given him -- too much, by the way -- to send him to sleep.
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indecadence) wrote2013-05-24 08:48 pm
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the laugh though, that tenses him up sharply, has him looking at cas darkly. if he's laughing at dean... ]
What?
[ huff huff. dean's better arm flexes at his side, where he grips down on the table... out of frustration or stopping himself from reaching out, dean's not sure, but he ignores the desires all the same in favor of just pinning cas with that dark expression of his.
and the question gets en equally short answer; ]
...No.
[ he still makes no attempt to move, to do anything else. he just sits there, with cas' hand against his chest, eyes on his friend's. he doesn't feel tired even if the day was full of action. in fact, he feels wide away, something buzzing under his skin, something finally starting to dull the pain. and right under cas' hand, his heart hammers away, loud and strong. ]
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You just-- [ Castiel leans back an inch. ] You're always taking care of everyone else and never as concerned about yourself. It's good, I think - that you're letting me do this for you.
[ Because he would have--always. Whether by less than conventional means or with his own hands, Castiel would do anything and everything in his power to see Dean safe and less reckless. He knows that the years they've lived have messed them up, torn them far from the path they might have walked had Sam never said yes, but it's not the most important thing to worry about. It's that they have each other, that they're there because they want to be and need to be.
His expression softens just a fraction more, dropping the rag and slipping his hand down to drag his thumb over Dean's knuckles. Absently working out the tension that runs up his arm. ]
It's nice. [ Different, welcome. ] You're, uhm...
[ A shrug then, almost sheepish, like he's playing at the edges of a few words that should never be said between them. It's easier to touch and press close than it is to talk about it. So, that's what Castiel does: he tilts his head and kisses him again. Kisses him to shut out his own thoughts and to shut himself up. ]
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but it's odd to have someone say it, quiet and soft as cas does. ]
Sewing up my arm sucks more than lettin' you do it.
[ cas had been convenient, and dean had known no amount of denying cas the chance to help would have actually worked. it's only after cas has spoken, as he runs his thumb over dean's hand, that he realizes the frustration has eased again into something quiet, and less demanding.
how cas is having this effect on him lately, dean doesn't know... but it's nice, too.
you're, uhm...
he almost wants to hear the rest, but the kiss that comes is much more welcome. the taste is still so new, so exciting, that dean only breathes a quiet, relieved sound against cas' mouth, his healthy arm slipping to his friend's side, hand sliding over cas' hip, and then to the small of his back, pressing him closer. it doesn't stop hitting him, how he hasn't had anything like this is in so long-- not since... before everything. and what this might be, exactly, still escapes him, is something he doesn't want to think about. but for now it's good.
it's the best thing he's had in a long time. and dean wants to enjoy it for whoever long or short it'll last, which is what he does as he bites quietly down onto cas' bottom lip, tugging at the soft flesh before pressing in again, hungrier. ]
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Castiel might explain it later, much later, when those pills have kicked in and Dean's so much more compliant than he is right now. Part of it, he's sure, is the fact he's still in pain, and the rest-- Well, he'd always assumed to know a good deal of the other man's preferences. After all, Castiel's mirrored his in a lot of ways, but even after all this time, he's still managed to surprise him, to shake him up and keep him on his toes. He supposes that's why he's always liked Dean--the unpredictability when he'd figures it to be straight and narrow.
The teeth digging into his lip causes him to shudder, and every little thought not pertaining to where they touch or what he's doing with his mouth shuts off. Castiel pushes and uses more of his tongue now, parting those lips and kissing him until he's straining for breath. Even then, he keeps pace, his palm skirting up a thigh and mimicking the brief touch to his hip. He curls his fingers into the waistline of his pants, gripping tight to the material in order to keep them from wandering further. If he could-- The leverage of that hold helps him drag him just a bit forward, closer to the edge of the table so that he's standing between Dean's legs and carefully wrapping himself around him, conscientious of his injury.
If it lasts, if it doesn't— ]
--bed. [ It's half mumbled against his mouth, sucking in a ragged breath before pressing another kiss to his chin. ] I, we should...
[ He's a little too distracted to actually explain he'd really prefer to not have to half drag him to the mattress, which means he's even less concerned with the fact it sounds like an invitation. Castiel only tugs at the loops of Dean's jeans, insistent. ]
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instead, as cas reels himself closer, one leg hooks loosely around his friends, keeping him there and pressing him even closer.
dean's pushing in for another kiss even as cas mumbles that single word, drinking it up right from his mouth until it registers. there isn't much of a beat before dean stifles a quiet laugh of all things against cas' lips, half-kiss, half pleased sound.
he doesn't make a move to do as requested though, not when he's starting to feel nice and comfy right here, with cas pressed close and the heat of his body seeping into dean's. ]
Just c'mere, come closer...
[ his other arm might be useless, but he can be demanding with just one, which curls around cas with possessiveness, hand twisting into the cloth of his shirt, bunching it together while his fingers brush over the skin underneath. ]
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Of all the things they could be doing, of everything they've ever done-- It's really difficult to wrap his mind around this, how easy they've fallen into it and how quickly things are escalating. From a kiss to this? There's really no overthinking though, twisting just a little to press himself closer and closer still. He's not going to deny either of them whatever happens, greedy enough to take it, and there's a very visible flush working across his cheeks and down his neck from the way Dean laughs. It's a good sound, an even better indication that it's not just a meaningless thing. Castiel feels remarkably giddy with it, moving and arching and leaning into him.
A breathy murmur, Dean's name on the tip of his tongue, and he grazes his mouth along his jaw. To an ear. ]
How close?
[ He whispers it against the lobe, kissing there and just beneath as he nuzzles into him. There's a tremor to his fingers as they slip down to toy with the hem of his shirt, waiting it out and listening to the hard hammer of his heartbeat when he swallows. All he has to do is give him some clue that anything beyond kissing is more than okay. Just the slightest nod or a yes--
Castiel decides he wants to hear it, turning back to kiss him again and repeat the words.
how close? ]
no subject
Closer--
[ he breathes back, chasing that flush down cas' throat, to the side of his neck. teeth and tongue leave marks along is way, taste the sweat and flavor of his skin, needy for more, slowly aching for it. cas' meaning might be somewhat lost to him though, in the haze of good and comfort. dean hasn't thought beyond kissing, tasting yet, no matter how his body reacts. normally, back home, all of his encounter were quick and messy, no time for kissing.
his hand slides back away from cas' back, over a hip, right until his fingers are burying past the waistline of his pasts, gripping him from the front and tugging.
when he says closer, he means closer. ]
--m'not lettin' you go.
[ he growls, biting at castiel's jaw. ]
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He likes the biting, never really realizing how much until Dean insisted on using his teeth, and the yank he gives him causes him to lurch forward more than he's prepared for, hands freeing themselves quick enough to slap against the table. Castiel pins Dean's thighs between them, stretching up to return those kisses over and over even as he considers gently pushing Dean back and climbing atop him.
It's a short-lived thought when his hips rock into the edge of it, and he shivers, panting against the curve of his mouth. ]
Dean —
[ He doesn't know what to say, doesn't know what else to do. He wants-- There's so much that Castiel wants, so much he's afraid to just take, and he revels in the closeness for as long as he can, eventually lifting a hand to cup the side of his face. He presses their foreheads together again, pushes just slightly so their noses touch, and he allows himself to breath, to feel the dampness of Dean's lips and the warmth of each exhale. It's more than enough knowing he has him now, has him in ways that had never really occurred to him, had practically presented itself each time they'd come together. How backwards they are, seeking comfort in the worst ways.
His thumb gently traces the hard ridge of his cheekbone, holding himself still and quietly asking for the other man to hold him like this. Just a little longer, at least until the drugs really start to take affect and he has to end it. ]
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it's the only reason he isn't up now, isn't pinning cas against the nearest surface available and taking what he wants. ]
Don't stop.
[ his face feels hot, just like cas' when the other man presses his forehead to dean's. he wants his mouth back on his, wants more skin to bite, to bruise...
except he's tilting his head into the touch, the solid feeling of cas' hand welcome as he watches him from under half-lidded eyes. he could watch him like this for a long time, trace the angles of his face, the shape of his mouth, his eyes... it's all a lot more endearing than he'd normally let himself think, yet here he is, wanting to just press right back in again and taste all of it.
all the while, the anger which is usually so present in him, is gone.
instead, dean feels like he's three minutes from either falling to his side, or into cas. whichever comes first. ]
no subject
Castiel's still far too observant, picking up on the trace amounts of slur in his words and the heated touch of his skin as he rests against him. He can feel his eyes on him through all of it, purposely keeping his shut as he considers what to do. Perhaps, if nothing goes wrong, they can pursue this later. There's time. For once, in so many years, they actually have it to spare. He thinks it would be good to take this slow, test it out. He is, after all, perfectly fine with experimenting and finding where things might lead.
There's a low noise in the back of his throat, almost a scoff. Then, he's tilting his head back and lifting up just enough to press a kiss to his forehead. ]
Come on.
[ He still caresses the side of his face, fingers curving gently against his jaw. ] You should lay down.
[ Or make it somewhere that isn't the table. Their bed is the final destination, and no matter how many times, he'll say it again if he has to. He's really not in the mood to be dragging Dean across the room with him half out of his mind from some painkillers. In hindsight, he probably should have given him one and called it a night. He gives another sigh, soft and quiet before kissing the corner of his mouth as if to say please. ]
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so yeah, he could go lay down. sure. ]
...M'you're right.
[ with the kiss, dean starts pushing away from the table with that, against cas right until he's stepping away from him too. it takes only another step for dean to wobble, to falter in his step as he tries for the bedroom. one hand shoots out blindly for cas, grips him wherever he can. ]
Jesus, t'hell did you give me...
[ but as he'd reached out, dean realizes it's with his injured arm, which has him blinking down at the length of it like it's entirely new, like he's been cured of some horrendous disease. ]
Huh... It doesn't hurt anymore.
[ hell, he can't feel much of anything anymore. ]
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You're going to rip the stitches if you're not careful. [ Always so careless, even high on painkillers. He rolls his eyes. ] Lean on me.
[ Since that's the only way they're going to make it to the bed.
Castiel takes more of his weight and walks with him, half dragging him in an attempt to make it there a lot faster. There's still the concern of getting Dean out of those bloody clothes, and perhaps he'd miscalculated the time it should have taken for the medicine to work, storing the information away in case he'd have need of it again. And once there, once they make it to the mattress, he kicks the blankets aside to make room for them. ]
Easy.
[ The only command he gives him, doing his best to help him down onto it without knocking them both over or falling on him. ]
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[ he's the leader here-- what was it, fearless leader, right? that's him, not cas, him. but he does lean on cas, can't really help himself from doing so once cas takes most of his weight. he hasn't been this useless in a long time, this out of it.
but cas is the only one to blame for that, so he gets to deal with it.
once in the bedroom, dean settles down with little difficulty, sprawling out over the mattress like it's the most comfortable thing. he's grabbing a pillow too, and pressing his face into it with a deep sigh... only cracking open an eye to look at cas. ]
C'mere already.
[ twisting his body, he's on his back a moment later, injured arm lightly at his side, bending at the elbow as his hand splays over his stomach, fingers toying with the cloth of his slowly riding up shirt. cas should lie down next to him, press against him and just be there...
that's not asking for too much, right? but then, and his eyes drop from cas as his thoughts take over, maybe it is. since when has he deserved something good in his life?
or maybe he can save the broodier thoughts for the morning. ]
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To join him.
He stares at him for a moment, tossing the idea around in his head. He's not tired, but-- A slight shake of his head, and he's dropping down onto his knees, easily navigating the small space to stretch out beside him along the side that's not hurt. ]
You're being difficult. [ Though his tone is light, almost teasing. ] Is this what you wanted?
[ Because he's carefully turning onto his side to face him, propped up by an arm and freely observing Dean spread out the way he is. He takes the position of his body into account, the slight bit of skin he can see from the way his shirt bunches up. Castiel wants to reach out and tug it down or slip his fingers under it to feel how warm he is, but he only uses his free hand to reach out and rest it on Dean's.
He's probably going to be in a lot of pain come morning, and Castiel wishes, not for the first time, that he could take it all away somehow. ]
no subject
But y'know how to handle me.
[ which is probably another key to why all of this has happened the way it did, why they're here now after an especially interesting evening.
it's also why dean presses closer, just an inch, with a sigh. he doesn't offer anymore words after that, as it takes very little for the drugs cas had given him -- too much, by the way -- to send him to sleep.
sorry, cas. ]