[ Hopefully Dean's cropping his face out of those pictures, because Castiel goes from looking concerned to confused as Dean snaps photographs of him with his phone, and neither is a particularly sexy look. He unwinds his belt from his hips, opens and drops his pants, and is hopping out of his socks, down to just his white boxers, when he pauses to look up at Dean, working through the meaning of those words.
People we care about. Is that what he is to Dean? Intimate. Yes, that's what this is, and Castiel finds himself flushing warm. He can't possibly imagine that stripping down alone and taking pictures of himself would have the same level of intimacy as doing it for Dean. It's not possible. ]
I do enjoy our intimacy.
[ He admits, and then, after a moment's hesitation, he hooks his thumbs in the waist of his boxers and pulls down, steps out of them, folds and sets them aside until he's standing there, fully naked in front of Dean and still incredibly awkward about it.
Despite the flush on his chest and in his cheeks, he's not otherwise physically aroused, and he isn't sure whether he's meant to be or not, or what, in generally, he's supposed to be doing. He can't bring himself to look at Dean, or the camera, and can't help feeling as if that's detrimentally to the goal of intimacy, but he doesn't know how to act otherwise. Touching Dean would be so much easier than this. This body that Dean's admiring the look of isn't even his, despite the fact that it was given to him willing by its former (human) owner. It's not him, and Castiel feels acutely disingenuous to be modelling it. He isn't sure what to do with it, or how to feel otherwise, so he just stands there, waiting for Dean's next instruction. ]
no subject
People we care about. Is that what he is to Dean? Intimate. Yes, that's what this is, and Castiel finds himself flushing warm. He can't possibly imagine that stripping down alone and taking pictures of himself would have the same level of intimacy as doing it for Dean. It's not possible. ]
I do enjoy our intimacy.
[ He admits, and then, after a moment's hesitation, he hooks his thumbs in the waist of his boxers and pulls down, steps out of them, folds and sets them aside until he's standing there, fully naked in front of Dean and still incredibly awkward about it.
Despite the flush on his chest and in his cheeks, he's not otherwise physically aroused, and he isn't sure whether he's meant to be or not, or what, in generally, he's supposed to be doing. He can't bring himself to look at Dean, or the camera, and can't help feeling as if that's detrimentally to the goal of intimacy, but he doesn't know how to act otherwise. Touching Dean would be so much easier than this. This body that Dean's admiring the look of isn't even his, despite the fact that it was given to him willing by its former (human) owner. It's not him, and Castiel feels acutely disingenuous to be modelling it. He isn't sure what to do with it, or how to feel otherwise, so he just stands there, waiting for Dean's next instruction. ]