[ The romanticism of flying Dean to locations he's never seen falls by the wayside compared to his other confessions. Castiel's eyes go wide and his breath stops. Maybe his heart stops also; honestly, he isn't paying attention to any part of his vessel at the moment. His grace crackles beyond human perception, and the feathers of his wings fluff out. What Dean's offering is... extremely intimate. Castiel wonders for a moment if Dean even understands the implications to what he's said, then realizes that of course Dean, more than anyone, knows the gravity of consenting to be an angel's vessel. The damage he would inflict on Dean's body is nothing compared to that of an archangel, but the loss of control and the surrendering of will is the same. That Dean knows that and offers it anyway, even as a hypothetical is... profound. Castiel is awed. ]
Thank you, Dean. Though I'm sure that it would never come to that.
[ Using Dean as a vessel, he means. Castiel would do everything he could, even die, to prevent endangering Dean in that way, even as much as the idea excites a dangerously possessive side of him. His eyes wander down Dean's bare skin, to his left shoulder where that mark remains: Castiel's claim of Dean's body for the restitution of his soul. Gradually, his eyes lift back to Dean's, though the intensity there remains. ]
We'll fly, then. When you're ready.
[ Castiel has forgotten the game again but this discussion with Dean is much more exciting to Castiel than exposing skin that isn't truly his or imbibing alcohol in such small amounts that his grace is unaffected. ]
[ Dean is a little surprised that it's come out of his mouth, honestly. He never thought he'd actually consent to being an angel's vessel - especially not with all this Michael shit going on - but if Cas asked him, if Cas needed him like that, in that capacity...
He'd do it. He'd probably question it, as is Dean's way of things, but he would give his consent, let Cas into his heart and mind and body. ]
Probably not, [ He says roughly, in response to Cas' thanks. ] But, just so you know. If you ever needed me.
[ Cas has the 'yes' he needs.
Dean can tell the game is pretty much forgotten at this point, even as he sits here shirtless and barefoot, drinking with an ambiguously non-gendered angel in a male vessel, trying not to get hard as he traces Cas' lips with his eyes, drinks in the miles of pale, creamy skin he's been allowed to view. ]
[ The game is indeed forgotten, leaving them both half-naked with no further incentive to either strip further or dress themselves. Dean has been drinking as much as Castiel has, and his raised blood alcohol must be the reason why he's staring at Castiel the way he is and volunteering himself for insane possibilities like allowing Castiel's grace to be housed inside of him and offering to let Castiel to fly him across the world. Humans are easily affected by the spirits they imbibe, but what, then, is Castiel's excuse? He feels warmly flushed in a way unrelated to the alcohol he's consumed, and he follows Dean's eyes to his lips, as Castiel presses them together, wets his lips with his tongue: a thoughtless, automatic response, and the charge he feels between himself and Dean is electric and real, though he can't identify the cause of it.
It's unnerving and exciting at once, and Castiel feels anticipatory, though he has no idea for what. He shouldn't possess Dean. He shouldn't goad him into flight. Dean has been drinking; the game is over. He should excuse himself, and instead he finds himself thinking about laying his hands on Dean, touching his exposed skin, kissing his mouth.
Thoughts like that are wildly dangerous for an angel. Startlingly, they're becoming more frequent, but only when he's alone with Dean, like this. Castiel sets his glass down on the table and begins to stand. ]
I have to go.
[ Between one blink and the next, Castiel is fully dressed, his clothing gone from the floor. He looks at the pile of Dean's discarded clothes, momentarily debating whether he should dress Dean as well before deciding it's Dean choice to make. Castiel looks at Dean again, not with heat, but with restraint. His shoulders are stiff. His jaw is tense. ]
Thank you again, Dean. I enjoyed our game, and I look forward to the next one.
[ Dean's been drinking, sure, but it's like a vitamin to him, he isn't drunk. He knows exactly what he's saying, and even if he's a little warm and fuzzy, Dean knows he means what he says.
That's kinda scary, actually. Dean Winchester, giving an angel consent. Who would have ever thought he'd do such a thing, give permission to a celestial being to occupy his mind and body, share literally every single aspect of himself?
It's not just any angel, though. It's Cas - Cas, who's done so much for him, given up everything, has been there every step of the way.
He watches the angel wet his lips, eyes darkening with lust, cock twitching between his legs, and he has to shift, adjust his jeans so it isn't so obvious. Dean's so lost in his staring, in his visual consumption of plush lips and soft skin that it's jarring when Cas gets up. ]
Wait a second, what's wrong? [ Dean can clearly see Cas is uncomfortable, that he's stiff and standing awkwardly, and it makes Dean uncomfortable, being so exposed as he is. ]
Did I say something? [ He asks, groping for his t-shirt, at the very damn least. ]
[ Even if Castiel could press his fingers to Dean's skin and see how sober he is (or isn't), it wouldn't change his decision to leave. As much as Dean's consent is important to him, Castiel's consent is important, too. It isn't the alcohol that's inhibited him, but something must have. He's uncomfortably aroused, and even Dean were suddenly, miraculously interested, blood alcohol content aside, this isn't something Castiel should allow.
He's rebelled against Heaven, but to rebel against the natural law that angels aren't allowed to... have certain feelings towards humans... It's worse than simple rebellion, he imagines.
Dean's concern has Castiel hesitating, but only briefly. It isn't Dean's responsibility to bear, after all, and he shouldn't feel guilty for Castiel's actions in either direction. ]
No. It's nothing like that. There's... something I need to do.
[ Important angel duties. Obviously. Not learn how to deal with an uncomfortably human erection. That would be ridiculous. Castiel is still looking off towards the far wall, avoiding eye contact as Dean retrieves his own shirt. Maybe he should've dressed Dean after all. He's made things awkward. There's no point in staying longer. ]
Goodbye, Dean.
[ Castiel says, doing his best at conforming to human social graces, but without waiting for a response from Dean, Castiel is gone from the room with a rush of wind from the beating of his feathers. ]
[ He's got his shirt back on, looking up at Cas in confusion and worry, pushing himself up to his feet but keeping his distance because Cas is definitely ruffled and Dean...isn't sure why.
Must've been the whole 'sure, I'll be your vessel' thing. You don't just blurt that out, Jesus, Dean. ]
Just hang on a minute, you don't have to leave, I'm sorry--
[ But Cas says 'goodbye' and he's gone again, and Dean's left barefoot and horny and frustrated. ]
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no subject
Thank you, Dean. Though I'm sure that it would never come to that.
[ Using Dean as a vessel, he means. Castiel would do everything he could, even die, to prevent endangering Dean in that way, even as much as the idea excites a dangerously possessive side of him. His eyes wander down Dean's bare skin, to his left shoulder where that mark remains: Castiel's claim of Dean's body for the restitution of his soul. Gradually, his eyes lift back to Dean's, though the intensity there remains. ]
We'll fly, then. When you're ready.
[ Castiel has forgotten the game again but this discussion with Dean is much more exciting to Castiel than exposing skin that isn't truly his or imbibing alcohol in such small amounts that his grace is unaffected. ]
no subject
He'd do it. He'd probably question it, as is Dean's way of things, but he would give his consent, let Cas into his heart and mind and body. ]
Probably not, [ He says roughly, in response to Cas' thanks. ] But, just so you know. If you ever needed me.
[ Cas has the 'yes' he needs.
Dean can tell the game is pretty much forgotten at this point, even as he sits here shirtless and barefoot, drinking with an ambiguously non-gendered angel in a male vessel, trying not to get hard as he traces Cas' lips with his eyes, drinks in the miles of pale, creamy skin he's been allowed to view. ]
Yeah. That...that would be really nice, Cas.
no subject
It's unnerving and exciting at once, and Castiel feels anticipatory, though he has no idea for what. He shouldn't possess Dean. He shouldn't goad him into flight. Dean has been drinking; the game is over. He should excuse himself, and instead he finds himself thinking about laying his hands on Dean, touching his exposed skin, kissing his mouth.
Thoughts like that are wildly dangerous for an angel. Startlingly, they're becoming more frequent, but only when he's alone with Dean, like this. Castiel sets his glass down on the table and begins to stand. ]
I have to go.
[ Between one blink and the next, Castiel is fully dressed, his clothing gone from the floor. He looks at the pile of Dean's discarded clothes, momentarily debating whether he should dress Dean as well before deciding it's Dean choice to make. Castiel looks at Dean again, not with heat, but with restraint. His shoulders are stiff. His jaw is tense. ]
Thank you again, Dean. I enjoyed our game, and I look forward to the next one.
no subject
That's kinda scary, actually. Dean Winchester, giving an angel consent. Who would have ever thought he'd do such a thing, give permission to a celestial being to occupy his mind and body, share literally every single aspect of himself?
It's not just any angel, though. It's Cas - Cas, who's done so much for him, given up everything, has been there every step of the way.
He watches the angel wet his lips, eyes darkening with lust, cock twitching between his legs, and he has to shift, adjust his jeans so it isn't so obvious. Dean's so lost in his staring, in his visual consumption of plush lips and soft skin that it's jarring when Cas gets up. ]
Wait a second, what's wrong? [ Dean can clearly see Cas is uncomfortable, that he's stiff and standing awkwardly, and it makes Dean uncomfortable, being so exposed as he is. ]
Did I say something? [ He asks, groping for his t-shirt, at the very damn least. ]
no subject
He's rebelled against Heaven, but to rebel against the natural law that angels aren't allowed to... have certain feelings towards humans... It's worse than simple rebellion, he imagines.
Dean's concern has Castiel hesitating, but only briefly. It isn't Dean's responsibility to bear, after all, and he shouldn't feel guilty for Castiel's actions in either direction. ]
No. It's nothing like that. There's... something I need to do.
[ Important angel duties. Obviously. Not learn how to deal with an uncomfortably human erection. That would be ridiculous. Castiel is still looking off towards the far wall, avoiding eye contact as Dean retrieves his own shirt. Maybe he should've dressed Dean after all. He's made things awkward. There's no point in staying longer. ]
Goodbye, Dean.
[ Castiel says, doing his best at conforming to human social graces, but without waiting for a response from Dean, Castiel is gone from the room with a rush of wind from the beating of his feathers. ]
no subject
Must've been the whole 'sure, I'll be your vessel' thing. You don't just blurt that out, Jesus, Dean. ]
Just hang on a minute, you don't have to leave, I'm sorry--
[ But Cas says 'goodbye' and he's gone again, and Dean's left barefoot and horny and frustrated. ]
Dammit, Cas.