[ However Dean expected this afternoon to go, this certainly wasn't anywhere on his radar. When he'd found Cas sitting on their bed in nothing but that white shirt and his slacks, he'd sort of imagined maybe pressing him back against the bed, flicking those buttons open one by one, working his way down Cas' chest with his tongue until he hit the waistband of his pants, maybe teasing him through the material, palm him a little to get him nice and worked up.
Ending up with a ring on his hand and a whispered promise on his lips -- not what he expected. Maybe that's okay, though -- nothing in their life is expected, and with everything that is constantly going wrong around him, maybe he's allowed to have this one, precious thing that's right. He sure wants to, anyway.
Maybe it's time he threw caution to the wind - let himself love endlessly, with his whole heart, because he is full of it, brimming with adoration, but constantly shoving it back down because that wasn't who he was supposed to be, that isn't who he's expected to be. Thing is, though - back in Deerington, under those twinkling lights with Taylor Swift and Maurice Williams and Norah Jones, he'd kissed Cas under the stars and fireworks, and no one expected anything out of him, no one asked him to be anything other than himself.
His fingers twist in Cas' shirt as he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, lips brushing against the angels, his grip tight. ]
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Ending up with a ring on his hand and a whispered promise on his lips -- not what he expected. Maybe that's okay, though -- nothing in their life is expected, and with everything that is constantly going wrong around him, maybe he's allowed to have this one, precious thing that's right. He sure wants to, anyway.
Maybe it's time he threw caution to the wind - let himself love endlessly, with his whole heart, because he is full of it, brimming with adoration, but constantly shoving it back down because that wasn't who he was supposed to be, that isn't who he's expected to be. Thing is, though - back in Deerington, under those twinkling lights with Taylor Swift and Maurice Williams and Norah Jones, he'd kissed Cas under the stars and fireworks, and no one expected anything out of him, no one asked him to be anything other than himself.
His fingers twist in Cas' shirt as he swallows, adam's apple bobbing, lips brushing against the angels, his grip tight. ]
Yeah. Hell yeah.