[ No, that glass is necessary. Dean may not understand the value of his own life, but Castiel, lifeless immortal thing that he is, does. Dean is too valuable to risk. That's why he'd left that gas station when Dean couldn't understand him, why he'd begged Pamela not to summon him, and why he's still trapped in a human body: all for Dean. All so Dean can look at him like this, with wanting and reverence. All so Castiel can feel human in Dean's presence, even for a moment.
And he does. Even through the barrier of humanity that limits his angelic senses in an imperfect way, like looking at the world through an oily, discolored lens, he can still see Dean looking at him through the camera of his phone, touching him in gentle, teasing ways that fire off electric signals of pleasure that burn hot enough to feel even through his grace, and calling his name, telling Castiel— this poor excuse for an angel and worse imitation of a human being— that he's perfect.
Castiel is left flushed and shivering by Dean's attention. Every exhale he makes is a shaken gasp or pleasured sound, and though he tries to keep still to maintain the pose Dean's put him in, more and more his hips lift in response to the pull of Dean's hand on his cock, chasing an orgasm that's quickly approaching. Dean cups his face instead, and Castiel whines at the loss of friction, but it's an instinctual, meaningless sound. He leans his face into Dean's palm in exactly the same way, desperate to touch Dean in any way he's allowed. ]
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And he does. Even through the barrier of humanity that limits his angelic senses in an imperfect way, like looking at the world through an oily, discolored lens, he can still see Dean looking at him through the camera of his phone, touching him in gentle, teasing ways that fire off electric signals of pleasure that burn hot enough to feel even through his grace, and calling his name, telling Castiel— this poor excuse for an angel and worse imitation of a human being— that he's perfect.
Castiel is left flushed and shivering by Dean's attention. Every exhale he makes is a shaken gasp or pleasured sound, and though he tries to keep still to maintain the pose Dean's put him in, more and more his hips lift in response to the pull of Dean's hand on his cock, chasing an orgasm that's quickly approaching. Dean cups his face instead, and Castiel whines at the loss of friction, but it's an instinctual, meaningless sound. He leans his face into Dean's palm in exactly the same way, desperate to touch Dean in any way he's allowed. ]