( dean witnessed the fall, remember the host of heaven dropping from the sky like meteors, but he never truly understood the gravity of an angel without wings until now. cas' wings may still be intact, but their condition has grounded him in all the ways he hasn't really had to think about for quite a handful of years. it became the new normal, cas having to learn to drive, bound by the same laws of travel as anyone else on earth. he doesn't want to think about the possibility of this cas returning home after all of this (if that's even still an option), just to lose his wings all over again and for good this time. they'd never had a discussion about it, anyway, not properly, because at the time cas had lost more than just his wings — he'd lost his grace, become fully human, and most of heaven wanted to see him run through with an angel blade, so they never really had time to sit down and chat about feelings.
it's almost funny how much time this place has given them to just ... talk. (at least, when dean isn't pretending like they don't have anything to talk about.)
he shakes his head at cas' comment, the arch of his brow saying something like yeah, except sam's not an idiot. but it's a moot point, so he lets it go, ushering cas away from sam once the glow fades from cas' hand. he tries not to think about the warm patch of skin beneath his own hand or the exposed nature of cas' chest. it's purely out of necessity, dean knows this, but he still isn't used to seeing cas without all his layers, even after weeks of this. he almost feels like a teenager again, trying to keep his wandering eyes from looking too closely, too noticeably. by now he's surely memorized the line of cas' collarbone, the curve of his shoulders, every slope and edge, all in stolen glances. only now has he let himself this close, skin to skin. it ignites a different flame in his chest, something stronger, perhaps, than the embers of his anger. )
Someone's gotta keep watch while you two — hey — ( he sturdies himself as cas grips his arm, trying his best to help ease him through the doorway. ) Easy now. ( he leads them to the living room, careful to avoid anything that might disturb cas' wings further. ) You know, I don't know much about wings, but I do know a thing or two about broken bones, and I can tell you these ain't healing right. ( he thought, maybe, with time, they'd set themselves, that cas wouldn't need his help, but he's starting to think that isn't the case. he glances over, holding cas' gaze, and there's something almost pleading about the way he says, ) Let me help, Cas. Save some of that grace, huh?
no subject
it's almost funny how much time this place has given them to just ... talk. (at least, when dean isn't pretending like they don't have anything to talk about.)
he shakes his head at cas' comment, the arch of his brow saying something like yeah, except sam's not an idiot. but it's a moot point, so he lets it go, ushering cas away from sam once the glow fades from cas' hand. he tries not to think about the warm patch of skin beneath his own hand or the exposed nature of cas' chest. it's purely out of necessity, dean knows this, but he still isn't used to seeing cas without all his layers, even after weeks of this. he almost feels like a teenager again, trying to keep his wandering eyes from looking too closely, too noticeably. by now he's surely memorized the line of cas' collarbone, the curve of his shoulders, every slope and edge, all in stolen glances. only now has he let himself this close, skin to skin. it ignites a different flame in his chest, something stronger, perhaps, than the embers of his anger. )
Someone's gotta keep watch while you two — hey — ( he sturdies himself as cas grips his arm, trying his best to help ease him through the doorway. ) Easy now. ( he leads them to the living room, careful to avoid anything that might disturb cas' wings further. ) You know, I don't know much about wings, but I do know a thing or two about broken bones, and I can tell you these ain't healing right. ( he thought, maybe, with time, they'd set themselves, that cas wouldn't need his help, but he's starting to think that isn't the case. he glances over, holding cas' gaze, and there's something almost pleading about the way he says, ) Let me help, Cas. Save some of that grace, huh?