[ All that time spent with Dean before... To Castiel, it feels like a drug-induced hallucination. That time was equal parts horrible and wonderful, and still nothing in comparison to returning to a timeline in which none of it had happened. Those past months or days living in a black hole resembling a cocoon were mentally torturous to Cas. And now, back in this place... Obviously Castiel isn't handling it well.
Neither is Dean, obviously, from the desperate way he reacts. The feeling of Dean untucking Castiel's shirt and sliding hands against his vessel's body's skin is muffled and distant, but the memory of it is clear enough to send a warm flush through Castiel as if that distance wasn't there. He listens to Dean and how his voice breaks with honest need, and instinctively, Cas pulls him in closer by the hand on his cheek and kisses his mouth fully this time, and again, with rushed, warm exhalations he doesn't remember inhaling, and growing heat. ]
Tell me again.
[ He demands against Dean's mouth as he drops one hand to cover Dean's and push his palm more firmly against his skin, higher under his shirt. He remembers that conversation with Dean on one cold autumn afternoon that feels like months ago, not verbatim, but the human, dream-like impression of it. "You can trust me with your heart," Dean had said. "I'm different. I like us." That wasn't either of them, was it? But Cas wants it to be. ]
Tell me we can still have this. Ask me to stay.
[ You shouldn't, logic demands. They have to go back to their own reality. It's an eventuality. And when they do, they'll go back to who they were before they broke the world together. It's already happened. Free will is a lie, but it's a lie Castiel is still desperate to believe. ]
cw: cas gettin spicy like the good old days
Neither is Dean, obviously, from the desperate way he reacts. The feeling of Dean untucking Castiel's shirt and sliding hands against his
vessel'sbody's skin is muffled and distant, but the memory of it is clear enough to send a warm flush through Castiel as if that distance wasn't there. He listens to Dean and how his voice breaks with honest need, and instinctively, Cas pulls him in closer by the hand on his cheek and kisses his mouth fully this time, and again, with rushed, warm exhalations he doesn't remember inhaling, and growing heat. ]Tell me again.
[ He demands against Dean's mouth as he drops one hand to cover Dean's and push his palm more firmly against his skin, higher under his shirt. He remembers that conversation with Dean on one cold autumn afternoon that feels like months ago, not verbatim, but the human, dream-like impression of it. "You can trust me with your heart," Dean had said. "I'm different. I like us." That wasn't either of them, was it? But Cas wants it to be. ]
Tell me we can still have this. Ask me to stay.
[ You shouldn't, logic demands. They have to go back to their own reality. It's an eventuality. And when they do, they'll go back to who they were before they broke the world together. It's already happened. Free will is a lie, but it's a lie Castiel is still desperate to believe. ]
Please, Dean...