[ Dean wouldn't find his true form simply attractive, no. He'd find it devastatingly radiant in all its ethereal, eldritch horror glory. Terrifyingly beautiful, positively pulchritudinous in a cthulhu sort of way.
He harrumphs in Cas' general direction, because he is aware angels don't have all that stuff (though he may have had some monsterfucking dreams about this but you'll never hear him say that), but what he's working with right now does. He opens his mouth to say something, probably something snappy, but Cas is pulling him back down, taking his hand and it leaves him breathless, that simple act of intimacy, of threading fingers--
Until he realizes Cas has just slathered angel juice all over him, but you know what, he's gonna take it and roll with the punches, drop his hand between pretty thighs and knuckle up right behind his balls. ]
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He harrumphs in Cas' general direction, because he is aware angels don't have all that stuff (though he may have had some monsterfucking dreams about this but you'll never hear him say that), but what he's working with right now does. He opens his mouth to say something, probably something snappy, but Cas is pulling him back down, taking his hand and it leaves him breathless, that simple act of intimacy, of threading fingers--
Until he realizes Cas has just slathered angel juice all over him, but you know what, he's gonna take it and roll with the punches, drop his hand between pretty thighs and knuckle up right behind his balls. ]
Because I ask about angels and lubed assholes?
[ Romantic. ]