There's a new bottle of tequila on the coffee table but it's top remains untwisted. Chuck sits and stares at it like it's the cause for everything weird in his life. Castiel knows better and he appears before Chuck with a hint of a smile.
Chuck's eyes widen and they're so immediately focused on Castiel that Castiel feels tendrils of warmth wrap through his grace. No one has noticed him so thoroughly before and certainly not every part of him. He brushes one wing tip against Chuck's cheek and the man's eyes shutter closed for an instant.
When Castiel moves forward, though, Chuck's eyes widen and he shuffles back on the couch until he's pressed in the corner. “Wait wait!” His hands are raised to ward Castiel off.
Castiel pauses, head tipped to study Chuck. Chuck's soul flares up bright and dark, torn. As Castiel knows he should be torn but he isn't. Chuck's eyes still focus on him.
“Okay, whatever this is about, Cas, I really don't appreciate waking up with feathers poking me in places feathers should never be poking.”
Castiel looks to the side, at his wing. Chuck's eyes follow the gaze. “It's about...” Castiel starts, stops. Tries again. He passes his wing, pushes with the long flight feathers, against Chuck's chest and feels. “No one sees. No one.”
They do not see him. How he struggles and fights and falls. He can grip to someone's soul and still they do not see. He can bend every part of him and still they do not see. But this prophet...
“I do,” Chuck says, an echo to his thoughts because Chuck sees him, knows him, writes him.
Castiel sighs and nods. He trails feathers along Chuck's chest, presses the tip of his wing between Chuck's legs. This time, Chuck lets him come closer and he doesn't complain again about feathers in unwanted places.
Because Chuck knows him. Perhaps one day others will as well.
Re: Chuck/Castiel: Sometimes the dreams and reality start to get fuzzy. All that tequila... (part 2)
There's a new bottle of tequila on the coffee table but it's top remains untwisted. Chuck sits and stares at it like it's the cause for everything weird in his life. Castiel knows better and he appears before Chuck with a hint of a smile.
Chuck's eyes widen and they're so immediately focused on Castiel that Castiel feels tendrils of warmth wrap through his grace. No one has noticed him so thoroughly before and certainly not every part of him. He brushes one wing tip against Chuck's cheek and the man's eyes shutter closed for an instant.
When Castiel moves forward, though, Chuck's eyes widen and he shuffles back on the couch until he's pressed in the corner. “Wait wait!” His hands are raised to ward Castiel off.
Castiel pauses, head tipped to study Chuck. Chuck's soul flares up bright and dark, torn. As Castiel knows he should be torn but he isn't. Chuck's eyes still focus on him.
“Okay, whatever this is about, Cas, I really don't appreciate waking up with feathers poking me in places feathers should never be poking.”
Castiel looks to the side, at his wing. Chuck's eyes follow the gaze. “It's about...” Castiel starts, stops. Tries again. He passes his wing, pushes with the long flight feathers, against Chuck's chest and feels. “No one sees. No one.”
They do not see him. How he struggles and fights and falls. He can grip to someone's soul and still they do not see. He can bend every part of him and still they do not see. But this prophet...
“I do,” Chuck says, an echo to his thoughts because Chuck sees him, knows him, writes him.
Castiel sighs and nods. He trails feathers along Chuck's chest, presses the tip of his wing between Chuck's legs. This time, Chuck lets him come closer and he doesn't complain again about feathers in unwanted places.
Because Chuck knows him. Perhaps one day others will as well.