i would like to talk about cas appreciating the hell out of dean’s bowlegs. pressing him against the wall and forcing his legs apart so he can stand between them, stroking his hands over his thighs reverently and then gripping tight, fingers digging in to the firm muscle as he hoists him up to shove him harder into the wall. dean has no choice but to wrap his legs around him and take it when cas grinds roughly into him. while he gasps and swears, cas calmly mentions that he thinks dean’s legs might have been created specifically to fit around him, and would he like to test the theory that they would fit neatly over his shoulders too?
exhausting. By now, this much Castiel knows.
means that one has to eat. And sleep, which is pretty much a waste of precious time.
It also means frequently having to use the bathroom, even at times when it’s
terribly inconvenient. In all honesty, it
Castiel thinks, until he wakes up in the bunker one morning with Dean Winchester already sitting
on the edge of his bed, shyly offering him some coffee and a peanut butter and
that one simple sandwich tells Castiel everything that he needs to know.
it’s the taste of it, or the familiar structure; a ghost of memories long
forgotten. But most of all, it’s the fact that Dean remembers. Remembers what Cas might need and enjoy at this point, remembers this one tiny
detail that’s somehow enough to put the fallen angel at ease on a dreary Monday
love peanut butter and jelly… Thank you,” Castiel says, sighing
blissfully as he picks up the sandwich that Dean brought for breakfast.
grins, looking nothing short of satisfied as he curls up next to Castiel on the
bed, draping his arm over Castiel’s waist.