INBOX #305682

[foolintherain]

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"I can't answer my phone right now, but you know what to do."

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[foolintherain]

[ When Dean pushes to sit up, Castiel tenses, and his hands come up immediately to Dean's elbows to make sure that he's steady, in case he plans to stand up and storm out. Luckily, he does just the opposite by climbing into Castiel's lap, and the thrill of heat Cas feels is wonderfully involuntary, just from the weight of Dean's thighs and his undivided attention. There are suddenly much more enjoyable activities Cas would rather be doing than having a conversation about his poorly timed identity crisis. His hands rest possessively on Dean's hips, his confidence found there, even if he can't yet bring himself to meet Dean's eyes. ]

Thank you, Dean. But... you're right. This is something that I need to figure out for myself.

[ Hopefully Dean's assuaged well enough to drop the subject, but if not... Well, then Castiel looks forward to further convincing him. He starts by tugging Dean by his hips a bit more firmly against his lap, and he tilts his face up to kiss under Dean's jaw, mirroring the attention he so enjoyed receiving before. ]

If there is one thing I'm sure of, though, it's how thoroughly I'm in love with you.

[venatoris]

Mmm, yeah, probably.

[ That's fair. The only person that can figure out who Cas truly is is the angel himself. Dean doesn't want to influence him one way or another, but he knows for damn sure he wants Cas to come home to him every night, and curl with him by the fire, and maybe have filthy sex on a persian rug in front of it.

Ideal, really.

Dean goes easily against him, drapes his arms around Cas' neck and tips his head back with a pleased little growl. How easily man is distracted by fornication and confessions of devotion. ]

You could tell me that on repeat and I'd never get tired of hearing it.

[foolintherain]

[ Bless Dean's simple, horny nature. He's receptive to Castiel's kisses, and Cas smiles against his throat for it, and then chuckles at Dean's flattery. ]

I'll have it pressed on vinyl for you.

[ He teases between open-mouthed kisses to Dean's neck. Then he sucks a very mouth-shaped bruise just above where Dean's pulse flutters away, wonderfully, beautifully alive. Castiel sighs after, utterly contented as he breathes in the salt-and-fire smell of Dean's skin and soul. His thumbs trace the jut of Dean's hipbones just above the line of his jeans while he nuzzles Dean's neck like a possessive cat, and asks with a low sort of purr to his rough voice. ]

You're still recovering. Are you sure that you're up for, uh... vigorous activity?

[venatoris]

[ He is a Simple Man™, after all. ]

I'll treasure it forever.

[ Cas lips on his skin also sends his pulse racing, blood roaring in his veins. He pushes a hand into his hair, keeping him there; mark his skin like you marked his ribs, like you marked his shoulder, like you marked his soul. ]

I'm more than up for this.