[ There's no resistance from Dean, and Castiel doesn't know if that's good or bad. He tries not to think about it, or think at all. He tries to remember what it was like to be stoned out of his mind and carelessly reckless. He goes up on his toes to kiss the bridge of Dean's nose, then his freckled cheeks. It feels new and unfamiliar, and Castiel has never hated his grace more. Despite the soft actions, his voice is low and rough. ]
Need me.
[ He answers, and then with the reminder that needing an angel's grace and needing someone's affections are two very different things, he clarifies between soft, what he hopes are mollifying kisses. ]
Like this. Like... how I need you.
[ In other words: utterly, hopelessly, and dangerously devoted. "Homoerotically codependent," as a certain angel would call it. It was one thing for them to be so indulgent at the end of the world where the devil had already won and Sam was lost. But back home, and even here, there's too much at risk. Dean has so much to lose, and much more to gain. He could have that normal, human family life he deserves. It's right there, with Lisa. Castiel's chest is tight, but he doesn't need oxygen. He doesn't let himself breathe and relieve that tension, because it would come out a sigh. He stays stiff instead, the line of his shoulders in rigid contrast to the soft brush of his fingers over Dean's jaw as he leans back again, just enough to look at him, and reinforce his words with unblinking eye contact. ]
You deserve so much more than you give yourself, Dean.
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Need me.
[ He answers, and then with the reminder that needing an angel's grace and needing someone's affections are two very different things, he clarifies between soft, what he hopes are mollifying kisses. ]
Like this. Like... how I need you.
[ In other words: utterly, hopelessly, and dangerously devoted. "Homoerotically codependent," as a certain angel would call it. It was one thing for them to be so indulgent at the end of the world where the devil had already won and Sam was lost. But back home, and even here, there's too much at risk. Dean has so much to lose, and much more to gain. He could have that normal, human family life he deserves. It's right there, with Lisa. Castiel's chest is tight, but he doesn't need oxygen. He doesn't let himself breathe and relieve that tension, because it would come out a sigh. He stays stiff instead, the line of his shoulders in rigid contrast to the soft brush of his fingers over Dean's jaw as he leans back again, just enough to look at him, and reinforce his words with unblinking eye contact. ]
You deserve so much more than you give yourself, Dean.