Cas doesn’t like kissing Dean’s freckles. He loves kissing Dean’s freckles.
It’s how they first kiss, actually. Cas sits on the couch in the bunker living room, counting all of Dean’s freckles in his head and making sure he remembers them all. Now that he’s human, he can’t just spot them all with his angelic senses, so he wants to make sure that he’s got every single one memorized. And when Dean finds him there, eyes closed, brow furrowed in concentration, he steps into the room and closes the door, startling Cas out of his focus.
"Dean," he says, annoyed.
Dean holds his hands up in a gesture of peace as he sits down next to him. “What were you thinking about?” he asks.
Cas doesn’t answer, distracted by a freckle he notices on Dean’s nose. When did that one appear?? he thinks to himself frantically. Then he pauses, re-cataloguing, and realizes he’d already known about it. He reaches out, touching the tip of his finger to Dean’s nose, right to that freckle, and Dean stops moving.
"Uh, Cas?" he asks, looking at him nervously, as if he thinks Cas has regressed to being crazy. “What’s going on?"
"I thought I…" Cas trails off, and Dean shifts closer, his thigh touching the fallen angel’s even as he refuses to move his finger from Dean’s nose.
"What’s wrong, Cas?" Dean asks quietly. Cas hesitates before turning his body towards Dean’s, lifting his other hand to Dean’s face and tracing over his features.
"I used to be able to look at you and know exactly how many freckles you had at any given moment," he replies softly, ducking his head and refusing to meet Dean’s eyes. “I keep trying to count them now, but I can’t keep up." He struggles with the emotion that seems to be lodged in his throat.
Dean reaches up and takes Cas’s hands in his own, threading their fingers together. “Hey,” he murmurs, and Cas looks up. Dean lets go of his hands and leans in. “I’m still here. All of me. I’m not going anywhere. Okay?”
Cas nods and hesitates again before reaching up, pressing his lips to Dean’s nose in a quick kiss. Dean freezes, but before Cas can move away or apologize, he tugs him back. Cas looks into his eyes, sees the trust and deep emotion that can’t even be covered by the simple word “love,” and reaches up again.
He presses a kiss to each freckle on Dean’s face. Or he tries to. At one point he pushes Dean back to lie on the couch, and he hovers over him, balancing on his side and elbow as he kisses the freckles, murmuring soft nonsense the entire time.
"Cas," Dean whispers finally. “I get that you have a thing for my freckles. But could you fucking kiss me already?"
"It’s a good thing you have a few right next to your lips, Dean," Cas says softly, before covering Dean’s mouth with his own.
rebloggable by (multiple omg) request