[ jo may have seen i love you coming, but castiel was certain, would have bet his life on it, that dean didn't share his feelings. that he couldn't, that they were just too different, their relationship was too far past that point, too complicated, too important to too many other variables — they simply weren't configured for it.
the other two can watch the entire, unmasked sequence going on, cas stiffing up, angel-deer in the headlights, glancing over his shoulder, looking between the two of them, and finally, finally, landing solidly, softly, speechlessly on dean. he barely stops himself from asking "are you sure"? the moment hangs like the sound of shattered glass through an elegant dining hall. he rises, carefully crossing the room, like going barefoot over coals or a bed of nails.
i was trying to tell you earlier, out there, but—, he flashes back to the dancefloor, how convinced he'd been that dean was doing his best to tiptoe around his friend's feelings. doing that thing dean does where he'd rather rake himself through the mud than allow a friend to feel uncared for in any way. ]
But I'm an idiot.
[ their language is composed of action more than words. it's a hand gripped tight on a shoulder before 'i've got your back', it's a palm gently cradling a cheek over 'i was so scared you wouldn't be okay'. it's castiel's fingers pressing in over the ridges of dean's spine at the back of his neck, thumbs over his jaw, the brush of eternal five o'clock shadow, and the press of heated, love-starved, desperate lips to his in place of 'i love you, i have always loved you, there will never be a day in time immemorial that i don't love you'.
he doesn't know how else to say it so thorough a way, or in a manner they both understand so plainly and innately, without question or shadow of doubt. it lingers a long handful of seconds, not deepening, but soaking up the sensation of it, inhaling dean and feeling the atoms between them buzz and hum in harmony. eventually, cas mutters against dean's lips, locking to his eyes like they moor him to the only safe port in miles. ]
I'm very difficult to bisect.
[ it's perhaps been too long since the initial concern of snapping people in half, but he's just trying to be reassuring here. it takes a second or two longer before cas remembers himself, and he blinks rapidly, then steps back, clearing his throat, and makes some semblance of an attempt at propriety. ]
If Jo is willing, I don't see why...sharing can't be a reasonable compromise. [ he casts a glace to Jo, somewhat sheepish, still deeply unsure after their last interaction, but hoping their kiss was something more than simply finding solace in whoever was available. ] It seems popular among the Summoned.
no subject
the other two can watch the entire, unmasked sequence going on, cas stiffing up, angel-deer in the headlights, glancing over his shoulder, looking between the two of them, and finally, finally, landing solidly, softly, speechlessly on dean. he barely stops himself from asking "are you sure"? the moment hangs like the sound of shattered glass through an elegant dining hall. he rises, carefully crossing the room, like going barefoot over coals or a bed of nails.
i was trying to tell you earlier, out there, but—, he flashes back to the dancefloor, how convinced he'd been that dean was doing his best to tiptoe around his friend's feelings. doing that thing dean does where he'd rather rake himself through the mud than allow a friend to feel uncared for in any way. ]
But I'm an idiot.
[ their language is composed of action more than words. it's a hand gripped tight on a shoulder before 'i've got your back', it's a palm gently cradling a cheek over 'i was so scared you wouldn't be okay'. it's castiel's fingers pressing in over the ridges of dean's spine at the back of his neck, thumbs over his jaw, the brush of eternal five o'clock shadow, and the press of heated, love-starved, desperate lips to his in place of 'i love you, i have always loved you, there will never be a day in time immemorial that i don't love you'.
he doesn't know how else to say it so thorough a way, or in a manner they both understand so plainly and innately, without question or shadow of doubt. it lingers a long handful of seconds, not deepening, but soaking up the sensation of it, inhaling dean and feeling the atoms between them buzz and hum in harmony. eventually, cas mutters against dean's lips, locking to his eyes like they moor him to the only safe port in miles. ]
I'm very difficult to bisect.
[ it's perhaps been too long since the initial concern of snapping people in half, but he's just trying to be reassuring here. it takes a second or two longer before cas remembers himself, and he blinks rapidly, then steps back, clearing his throat, and makes some semblance of an attempt at propriety. ]
If Jo is willing, I don't see why...sharing can't be a reasonable compromise. [ he casts a glace to Jo, somewhat sheepish, still deeply unsure after their last interaction, but hoping their kiss was something more than simply finding solace in whoever was available. ] It seems popular among the Summoned.