text | un: robert.plant

[righteously]

So we're all just gonna ignore the whole 'getting pooped out by a dragon' thing?

whoever owns the giant chicken with the bow tie, I'm gonna deep-fry that bitch

3 minutes is not long enough to shower off egg membrane, that's freaking disgusting okay
just flat-out unhygienic, period
gross

the first time I hear somebody jerking off in a hammock I'm gonna set it on fire

this place sucks balls

as you were.

Comments

[righteously]

( See, this is one of the many reasons they work out - Cas glosses over his bullshit and focuses on actually relevant information hidden in his rant. Pointing it out makes for an excellent segue without getting too caught up in the rant itself. )

The wings are already attached.

( So, yeah, little too late to ban them from the unresolved sexual tension mobile.

(Just pretending like this isn't a totally loaded conversation, don't mind him, this is normal, he's not feeling anything creeping along the inside of his chest.)

He casts an absent glance over his left shoulder like he's looking for them, but unfortunately (or fortunately? jury's out) Dean's eyes haven't been celestially upgraded to match his back. )

Or... not attached. Fake-attached. I don't know, I can't see 'em so. Doesn't count. Wings get a pass.

( Which is a little funny, considering they're matching his body language for a second there by getting a little twitchy somewhere on the ethereal plane or Narnia or wherever the hell it is they exist. )

[unwings]

You can't. [ don't brag, cas. almost as an aside - ] They're lovely.

[ wait. ]

Impressive. The most majestic set of ethereal wings I've seen attached to a human.

[ the only ones— shhhhh. with his eyeline past Dean's shoulder, it's clear Castiel's watching the wings and expressive twitches, with a small curve to his lips. he's like a newly minted little celestial not quite sure how to fly yet. castiel's certain this observation of dean's preciousness won't be well received, so he keeps that one to himself.

his fixation with dean's new wings hasn't passed yet, and cas paces around dean's side, hand on his shoulder to keep him from turning with him as he pauses at his back to get a better look. of course, cas likes to look with his hands, so a moment later, a palm rests in the space separating the wings, between dean's shoulder blades, over his spine, and sweeps downward, just bordering where the ethereal meets corporeal. not quite angelic, but close enough to be deeply intriguing. ]

Anything else I should be aware of that's outlawed in the car?

[ the unresolved sexual tension mobile. is 'in the car' going to be their code for sex now? ]

[righteously]

( His mildly flat expression communicates clearly that they both know it's the only set of wings the dude's ever seen on a human, and frankly it's easier for him to focus on that part than the part about them being lovely or whatever. He doesn't feel any particular kind of pride about that like some people might -- he can't freakin' see them -- if anything, it might make him just a little self-conscious. Cas looking at them and complimenting them hits like a softcore version of whenever he talks about seeing Dean's soul. It's slightly less intense, but still a little intense.

Couple that with Cas getting handsy again, and the lump's forming itself back in Dean's throat again. It's just his shoulder, it's just his back, it's nothing Cas hasn't had a hand on a hundred times before.

It's different, and though he stays obediently still his jaw tucks and turns in Cas's direction a few inches to better watch his profile. )

I'll write you a list.

( It would sound more effectively dry if his voice didn't get a little quieter, a little lower.

While they're on the subject: )

It's not just wings.

( Not the car thing, he's jumped tracks a little. Shifted gears toward his whole thing in general, since Cas seems keen on studying his business. Plus, he's suddenly curious as hell about the reaction he'll get when he does it -- moves back just a few inches, not to pull away but rather to reach up and press two fingers to Castiel's forehead.

Blue glowing chest. Gentle rush of pure energy. Near-invisible shimmer in the air. Hashtag blessed, enjoy your stab-free 8 hours. )