[ Castiel doesn't know what he's said that's funny, if either Dean finds it comical that he's used vulgar language or if Dean just enjoys the picture in his head that actual shit-throwing makes, but the sudden quirk of Dean's lips upwards is... nice. He's much more attractive when he's smiling than when he's scowling, Castiel decides, and with that decision, promptly directs his eyes back down to his hands as they rinse Dean's, perhaps a bit more spotlessly clean than they need to be, by this point.
He's giving Dean more of a hand massage than properly cleaning him at this point, really. And when Castiel finally realizes it, he forces himself to stop. He rinses the cloth through and looks up at Dean. ]
You're right. I don't have to be here at all.
[ If Dean wanted to kill himself, he certainly could. He was doing a fine enough job before Castiel intervened. But Dean ate what was given. He's allowing his hands to be cleaned without striking out. He's talking. That's signal enough to Castiel that Dean wants to be saved, and Castiel isn't anywhere near to giving up on the man who, for no logical reason, saved him. He holds the cleaned, dripping washcloth out towards Dean. ]
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He's giving Dean more of a hand massage than properly cleaning him at this point, really. And when Castiel finally realizes it, he forces himself to stop. He rinses the cloth through and looks up at Dean. ]
You're right. I don't have to be here at all.
[ If Dean wanted to kill himself, he certainly could. He was doing a fine enough job before Castiel intervened. But Dean ate what was given. He's allowing his hands to be cleaned without striking out. He's talking. That's signal enough to Castiel that Dean wants to be saved, and Castiel isn't anywhere near to giving up on the man who, for no logical reason, saved him. He holds the cleaned, dripping washcloth out towards Dean. ]
Wash your face.