A Sense Of...

[veritas_st]

So this is my first attempt at Castiel/Dean because savingfaith333 asked me the other day if I had something against her "boyfriend" considering I never write Castiel.  But its because I don't fully understand him yet.  

So...if it sucks...get over it! 

A Sense Of...

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...Sight

The first time Dean saw him, he felt like he had been punched in the gut,

and his breath caught in his throat. Putting it down to the fact that he made the strip lighting explode and withstood Ruby’s knife and god knows how many bullets, Dean ignored it when his vision went blurry round the edges when Castiel came close and blinked those eyes that Dean wanted to loose himself in.

He ignored the fact that Castiel took up every inch of his vision, because he was a fricking angel, you shouldn’t want to drown in an angel’s image.

 

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...Touch

The first time Castiel touched Dean, he wasn’t supposed to, it wasn’t part of his mission, wasn’t on his heavenly agenda. But he couldn’t help himself from reaching out because the boy looked so lost, so stricken and helpless.

A soft hand on the boys shoulder was all it took for Castiel to be lost, lost in wanting to explore the reason behind why he could feel Dean’s warmth through layers of leather and cotton, why he wanted to curl his fingers around Dean’s neck and touch Dean’s very soul and never let go.

His palm tingled for hours afterwards.

 

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...Sound

When Castiel spoke, Dean wondered why it seemed like he couldn’t hear anything else. The deep, soothing timbre resonated around his head and chased shadows and demons from Dean’s mind, made all other sounds filter out and Dean wanted to listen to that voice forever, listen to Castiel’s voice enveloping his very being for the rest of eternity. And for the second time in Dean’s life, he didn’t care if the end of the world came, as long as Castiel kept talking, kept smoothing the rough edges with his words.

“You are not listening to me.”

“No, I am.” Always.

 

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...Smell

Castiel had never paid attention to the scent of humans before, it hadn’t bothered him, unlike Uriel who walked around on earth with a permanent scowl. But the smell of soap and leather and gun oil and sleep permeated his nostrils and stuck there, long after he had left Dean, long after he left him standing in Bobby’s kitchen.

Castiel wanted to kill something, wanted the stench of burning demons turning to ash in his nostrils instead of the heady mix of warmth and Dean, because he suddenly understood what humans meant when they said something was driving them crazy.

 

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...Taste

Something akin to fear yet understanding flickered across Dean’s face when Castiel took a step forward. Castiel wanted to reassure him, wanted to speak but the words stuck in his throat as he reached forward and touched, fingers curling around the back of Dean's neck.

It was when Dean's lips parted slightly that Castiel found his voice.

“Don't be afraid.” He whispered and Dean sighed as his eyes fluttered closed for a second and Castiel took his moment, covering Dean's lips with his own and finally tasting, tasting bravery, strength and an honest soul...Dean.

“I'm not anymore.” Dean replied.

 

 

 

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[veritas-st.livejournal.com]

Yeah well...I did it. Bad Verity

xx