His thin hands with the web like tendons ontop ran against his skin smoothly, curving willingly at every bone and muscle concave. The stomach was the softest, drawing the hand back there often, making it take double, triple, and quadruple trips to get the feel in it's memory. The not so quite toned, yet not so quite flabby, tummy exposed it's goosebumps from the pelvis bone up to the sides of his ribs. Gradually, his nipples had gotten the goosebumps affect as well, hardening gently. It felt cold on the outside, but warm on the inside. This feeling perked every inch of Dean up into alertness of each touch that rested on his skin. His rosey, pouting lips ached for a kiss, a graze, anything. Dean's eyes traced over Castiel over and over, remembering every angle he presented him while he sat on the edge of the bed next to him. His eyes started to grow heavy, inside he was more worn out than aroused. Castiel thought he could sexually interest Dean with just a few soft touches, and while that was true at first, he soon found it relaxing to feel another person's touch. It soothed the edge that seemed to never die down, the sweet caress from the angel filled him with warmth. This happened every time they decided to take their relationship a base up; Cas always engulfed in the feeling and architecture of Dean's body, and Dean melting under the overwhelming physical contact. Eventually, Dean reached over gently and grabbed Castiel's wrist, tugging him down to lay in bed with him. Whatever was blocking them, whatever prevented them from being sexual, they didn't mind. They both decided that at the end of the day, they needed a nice nap, wrapped in each others arms. The blankets wrapped around them, keeping them warm from the winter air outside, Dean nuzzled his way into the crook of Castiel's neck, breathing his warm breath against his cold skin. Their smells mixed together perfectly; leather and honey.