Dean walking to stand next to the chair where Cas is sitting, loose and tired in his pyjama t-shirt and soft plaid pants. Dean starting up a conversation just for the sake of talking to Cas, trying to feel out his mood.
Dean’s hand lingering on Cas’ shoulder, squeezing gently.
Dean feeling Cas relax into the touch as he speaks, muscles unwinding just a little. Cas grumbling out monosyllabic responses, weary and stretched tight and thin.
Dean squeezing again, keeping the conversation light and natural, this is what I’m making for dinner, is that okay.
Dean moving behind the chair as Cas nods and then starts talking about what he’s reading. Dean putting his hands on Cas’ shoulders, feeling warm skin beneath the thin t-shirt. Dean circling his thumbs over the knotted muscles, over the span of his shoulders, high into his neck, as Cas talks.
Cas’ voice stuttering as Dean’s thumbs find a sensitive spot on his neck, almost behind his ears. Dean pausing, and then touching the place again, a little softer than he meant to - and again, and again, hearing Cas’ breathing get a little deeper, a little shakier with each pass of his thumbs.
Dean knowing that he should stop, but being unable to resist carrying on, and on, dipping lower and then coming back, until Cas is sighing under his hands. Cas finally reaching up and laying his hands over Dean’s, stilling him.
Dean standing motionless for a few seconds, until Cas passes his thumbs over Dean’s knuckles, softly, gratefully.
Dean leaning down and pressing his lips to the top of Cas’ head, breathing in the scent of his hair.
Dean saying, “Dinner in twenty, OK?”
Dean knowing it’s a poor way to say ‘I love you’. But thinking, at least it’s a start.
blakekathryn
dededos
germansingergirl
origamiaround
stormborns
turnnoffyourmind
