Archive of Our Own

Dean watched as his brother studied the book in front of him. They have been researching for hours to find a spell. Everyone seemed to have been struck by the truth bug. Every single person in town couldn’t tell a lie, except Sam and Dean (thank God).

After having ruled out any kind of God or demon or other supernatural creature they landed on a witch. They’d almost caught her when she hit them with a paralysis spell that wore off after an hour. Which was by far the most boring and longest hour they’d ever experienced.

The next day, they had found her in some abandoned barn, and with the help of some witch killing bullets and the element of surprise, they had her done and over with. But there was still one problem left: The spell. Apparently, it survived the death of its witch and they still needed to find a way to disarm it.

So that’s where the damn books came in, the endless reading that Dean hated.

“Okay, so this spell says that it can probably reverse this sort of thing. The ingredients don’t seem too hard to find, all pretty simp-” Sam’s brow furrowed as he stood leaned over the table.

“What?”

Sam looked up, perplexed. “It says we need an angel feather.”

“An angel feather? Do they even have actual wings?” Dean’s mind starting racing with pictures of Cas, huge wings spread out behind him like in the barn but real, real wings arching, spreading out on either side of him as lighting cracked abo-

“I don’t know, I mean you said you saw Cas’ wings shadow in that barn, right?” Sam stood up, arms crossed, snapping Dean out of his reverie.

“Yea, their shadow. If he could give himself actual physical wings, don’t you think he’d show them instead of just their shadow?” Dean thought again about what Cas would look like with those huge wings connecting to his back in a cascade of feathers seamlessly merging to his-. “Wouldn’t it be hot if they were real though?” Dean said, smirking to himself.

“What?” Sam looked up from the book again.

“Nothing!” Jesus Christ, get it together man! “Just uh, what do we do now?”

“I guess we call Cas and ask for a feather?” Sam had that stupid innocent look on his face.

“Okay, let’s give it a go.” Dean turned away from him, trying to control his mind and the heat that had started to push against his pants. It’s not Cas, it’s just the wings, wings are hot. The whole angel and devil stripper thing, like the dream Anna so rudely interrupted.

Angel.

Sam closed his eyes and started to pray for Cas. The boys waited for the tell-tale sound of wings, but nothing happened. Sam opened his eyes and looked around the room only to see Dean and no Cas.

“Okay, you try.” Sam said, with what sounded like a challenge.

Dean rolled his eyes. “Come on, you really think that Cas is gonna come when I call and not when you do?”

“Yea, I do.” Sam chuckled.

Dean huffed and sat on the bed. “Cas, get your feathery ass down here!”

Nothing happened. “I told you he’s not-”

“Dean.”

Sam looked at Dean with a look of smug triumph. “Told you.”

“Shut up.” Dean turned to Cas.

“Told him what?” Cas tilted his head to the side. Adorable.

“Nothing. Listen, Cas, we need your help.”

He began mentally preparing himself for the questions he was gonna have to ask Cas.

“With what?” He rumbled, slight concern in his voice.

Dean took a deep breath. “We need to uh… do you, um… Do you have… wings?”

“Of course I have wings, Dean, I’m an angel.” He tilted his head that way he did (again).

“No, like, actual wings, feathers and everything?” Dean had to stop himself from fidgeting.

“We need an angel feather for a spell.” Sam explained.

Dean watched as a crimson blush spread its way across Cas’ face and he shifted uncertainly from foot to foot. His shoulders rolled uncomfortably as if there was something Dean couldn’t see bothering him.

“Sooo… Can you just whip em’ out and we can get this over with?” Sam said, unusually bluntly.

Dean turned and shot him a glare, Cas was obviously uncomfortable. Sam gave him the annoyed “what?” face and Dean rolled his eyes.

“Sammy, go get yourself a salad or something.”

Sam threw up his hands in defeat. “Fine. Just call me when you’re done exploring your ‘profound bond’ or whatever.” He headed out the door.

“I can still kick your ass!” Dean yelled after him.

“Try it!” Sam laughed, and then the Impala door was heard closing.

With Sam gone, Dean sat on the edge of the motel room table, eyes resting on Cas. He thought about how to approach this as he watched Cas look anywhere but him. He’d never seen the angel so uncomfortable; he didn’t know he could be uncomfortable like this. Dude was like a freaking robot most of the time. He decided that sympathy would be his best bet.

“Uh…Cas? What’s wrong?” Dean crossed his arms, waiting patiently for an answer. Cas rolled his shoulders again.

“You’re saying that you would like to have a feather?”

“If you’re… comfortable with that?” Silence again. “Listen, Cas, I don’t know if it’s some weird angel privacy thing and, hey, listen, I get it. But we really need this feather for the spell, if we don’t reverse it, it’s gonna tear this town apart. No one needs to hear or speak the truth twenty-four hours a day.” He was babbling and he knew he was, but he couldn’t stand seeing Cas so uncomfortable, especially because of him.

“Dean, I- my wings are- they aren’t exactly…”

“Aren’t exactly what, Cas?” he said softly. It was so easy for him to be sympathetic with Cas. As he watched his brow furrow, casting a shadow over his electric blue eyes, the way he licked his lips unconsciously. It was such a human gesture.

“They aren’t ‘pretty’.” Cas said, using the newly acquired finger quotes.

“Cas, it doesn’t matter if they’re pretty all we need is a feather, I don’t even need to look at em’ if you don’t want me to. Even though I really want to.” He added chuckling, trying to lighten the mood.

“But it does matter, Dean. Wings are… They’re a source of pride with angels and manifesting them for humans is a no small thing, letting anyone see them is a big deal. And my wings are nothing to be proud of… They’re ugly, singed, deformed…” Cas was avoiding eye contact again.

“Cas…” Dean took a few steps towards him, and his heart ached as Cas inched slightly backwards. “I’m sure that’s not true man. I mean, you have wings, actual wings, whatever they look like I’m sure they look awesome.”

“I assure you, they do not. I haven’t taken care of them since- I haven’t taken care of them, I’ve hardly looked at them, they’re unnatural.” Cas rolled his shoulders uncomfortably again, as if thinking about them was making them uncomfortable.

“What do you mean taken care of them?” Dean sat on the bed now, a bit closer to Cas, as close as he felt Cas wanted him.

“Our wings require… Upkeep? The same way your kind shower and brush your hair. I’ve neglected mine. They don’t deserve it.” Dean saw the pained look on Cas’ face, and it made his stomach drop. How could anyone with such a magnificent gift hate that gift so much? He would kill to have wings, to be able to fly. To be able to show them off and spread them wide for the world.

“Cas, come on. This is me. I can tell you’re uncomfortable, you keep rolling your shoulders like somethings hurting you. Yes, I can tell.” he added when Cas looked like he might retort. “Just…” He paused, wondering if he really wanted to offer this, to do this. “Let me help you.”

Cas finally met Dean’s eyes, panic started flaring in his face and Dean didn’t know, but in that moment he almost flew away out of fear. “Dean, I- touching an angel’s wings is a very private- it’s not done lightly, it could- it may be… disagreeable to you.” he finished.

“We’re friends, right? I trust you, you trust me? You’ve helped us more times than I can count at this point, you rebelled against heaven for me. Let me repay you as much as I can.” Dean’s heart was pounding in his chest now at the thought of seeing Cas’ wings let alone touching them.

Castiel’s shoulders sagged in defeat and his face fell, as though he’d given up. The opposite emotion Dean wanted to elicit.

“Step back, Dean.” Cas moved to the middle of the room as Dean backed off, walking backwards until he bumped into the bedside table placed between the beds.

Dean watched as suddenly Cas’ trench coat, suit jacket, and dress shirt disappeared from his body and appeared, folded, on the table. Dean’s eyes scanned Cas’ smooth chest: he was lithe, narrow hips shaped by sharp hip bones ( oh God those hip bones ) and a toned stomach. Soft skin covered taut muscles, and Dean lost his breath for a moment as he realized Cas was built lean and mean beneath his dorky exterior. Defined muscle that didn’t boast size like Dean’s or Sam’s, but you knew held power and stamina. His throat grew dry as he scanned his broad shoulders defined traps. Holy living hell. He thought as he felt his knees almost buckle.

Before Dean knew what was happening, Cas was arching his back, screwing up his face in, and then the room went dark. Except the room wasn’t dark. It was something Dean didn’t recognize, something huge. As Dean’s eyes focused on what was in front of him, he realized that Cas’ wings had manifested in front of him. All the breath left his lungs as he took in the sight. They were ten feet long on either side at least and were the deepest black he’d ever seen, midnight black and stark against everything around them. The world seemed to shift with the wings at its center. As the wings moved and trembled Dean noticed the light shifting off some of the feathers making color dance in the midst of a sea of black, flashes of different levels of blue. Iridescent blue, midnight blue, royal blue and Dean’s favorite, the blue of Castiel’s eyes reflected in the most real part of his true self. The longest of the feathers, at the tips, look to be at least three feet long and straight as an arrow, the ones at the arches and going down towards Cas’ back looked softer, Dean imagined they would feel like the softest blanket against his fingers, and he wondered what it might be like to bury his hands in them.

As he looked closer, Dean realized that many of the feathers were out of place, broken, disheveled. They were ruffled in some places and looked like new growth was trying to come in but couldn’t. Cas wasn’t wrong when he said he wasn’t taking care of them. Dean imagined what they would look like all cleaned up, and he couldn’t imagine how anyone could be ashamed of such beautiful appendages.

The wings were fully outstretched for quite a few seconds but as Cas relaxed, they folded in, fitting comfortably into themselves behind Cas, tips brushing the floor. Dean hadn’t realized he’d been staring, without a word, for a while.

“Jesus Christ, Cas…” he breathed.

“I know… They’re hideous.” The angel was looking at the floor, arms limp by his side as Dean watched the minute sagging of his wings behind him.

Dean huffed. “Are you kidding? Cas they’re… Beautiful.” It was the only word Dean could think of and it didn’t even begin to cover it. Not that he would ever admit to Sam he’d called Cas beautiful.

The angel looked up, confused. “Dean they’ve been marked by the fires of hell, they’ve been singed and tainted by the fire that was started to punish humanity for rebellion. I’ve been branded by hell.”

“Hell…” Realization struck Dean. For millennia Cas had been proud of his wings, groomed them, loved them, identified with them… and then came Dean. “You’re saying you hate your wings because of me? Because you went into hell and were marked by those fires to save me.” Dean’s lungs felt like they were collapsing as his stomach tied into knots and he had to hide the quiver in his voice. Rage, sorrow, self-loathing and a crippling emptiness started to engulf him as he realized Cas hated himself because of Dean.

Hard determination set into Cas’ face as he realized what had just happened, realizing he inadvertently, wrongly, blamed Dean for the state of his wings. Some of the feathers started to bristle slightly.

“Dean, no.” His voice was like thunder, like he’d never given a command so absolute. “I have never blamed you for this, I blame the people who put you there, who forced you into hell and carved at your soul. I am proud to say that I was the one that gripped you tight and raised you from perdition.”

Dean shivered and thought about it for a moment, thought about what Cas had said, but he didn’t feel any better. He wanted Cas to see his wings like he did, to see them as the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, to understand how important they were because these were the wings that saved him from endless years of unimaginable pain. He had resisted the urge to touch until now, not wanting to cross a boundary especially after lecturing Cas on personal space for months. But now he stepped forward, hand outstretched. The wings flinched backwards, almost reflexively, but Cas stayed where he was.

“If I’m the reason you won’t take care of them then I’ll take care of them for you…”

“Dean-”

“No! Cas, I need you to understand… If your wings are responsible for raising me from hell, then don’t you dare be ashamed of them. Don’t you dare think that they’re ugly. If you won’t take care of them I will and I’ll freaking groom you or whatever as many times as I have to and tell you as many times as I have to that they’re freaking amazing.”

Cas didn’t say anything, he simply nodded as another enticing blush crept up to his face and spread down to his chest.

Dean coughed to try and cover his arousal. “Okay enough of this girly shit, how do I do this?”

“You really wish to do this, Dean?”

“Yes, now come on Cas, stop stalling.”

Suddenly, the beds were pushed together behind Dean with the sound of wood scraping on wood, and Cas walked around him to lay on his stomach. He slowly spread out his wings and Dean watched as the tips dipped over the edge of the beds by a few feet, the long, straight feathers brushing the grungy motel carpet. It felt wrong that they should touch something so dirty. He instinctively pulled over the bedside table on one side, the kitchen table on the other and instructed Cas to rest the ends of his long appendages on them. Dean grabbed a pillow and softly nudged it under Cas’ head, he figured he didn’t lay in a bed often and could use a hint.

“What do I do?” Dean was a little breathless as he asked the question.

“Pull out the broken feathers and straighten the healthy ones. You may need to pull out the tangles and smooth them down. It will not be… comfortable.”

“Okay, clean things up basically. Where do I start?” Dean could hardly contain his excitement at the thought of running his fingers through the feathers.

“Start at the primaries.” Dean thought he heard a note of trepidation in Cas’ voice.

“Primaries?”

“The ones at the tips.” As he mentioned the feathers, he lifted the tip of his wing as if he was indicating what he meant. So fucking cool. “And then work your way inward.”

So, there are names for feathers… interesting. “Okay, you ready?”

Castiel nodded into the pillow, shoulders tensed in anticipation. Dean walked to the side of the bed where Cas’ left wing was resting and he tentatively reached out a hand to brush along a primary with his fingertips. They felt surreal. As soon as he touched the feather, he felt a tingling in his fingertip, a small amount of angelic electricity running up his finger, his hand and dissipating halfway up his arm. He touched again, this time brushing his whole hand over the long flight feathers, and he had to restrain himself from sighing at the feeling it gave him. As he did this, he saw a shiver run up Cas’ spine, like the angel could feel it, like it was a part of him. Dean still couldn’t believe that these were a freaking part of him.

He tried not to notice Cas’ back, lying face down on the bed with his muscles slightly tensed in anticipation. Dean wanted to savor everything about it. He could see the lean muscles fitted perfectly against each other followed by the cascade of the softest looking feathers running down beneath his shoulder blades where the wings met his back. Beneath that was the curve of Cas’ lower back, a perfect arch with two perfect dimples at the base of his spine and then the curve of his-

“Dean?” Dean coughed again, trying to think of anything that would stop him from popping a boner for his freaking angel best friend. “Sorry, Cas. Right, starting now.”

Getting to work, he started straightening the feathers and putting them back in place, enjoying the electric feeling they emitted and the warmth of them against his skin. The first time he pulled one out he heard a grunt from Cas.

“Shit, Cas, I’m sorry did that hurt? Should I stop?”

“I’m fine, Dean. Keep going.” Cas was facing away from him, his words muffled a little by the pillow. Dean thought he’d heard something in his voice he hadn’t heard before. He kept working through the primaries and then the longer ones closer to Cas’ back which he informed Dean were called secondaries. Once he was done with all the longer feathers, he moved to the softer, shorter feathers a little higher up, apparently called coverts. Dean hadn’t realized there were so many names for feathers, but he catalogued them all in his head to remember them for later. These ones were softer against his fingers, more pliable, and he ran through them and tried to smooth them down as much as possible. He worked methodically and winced as he pulled kind of hard on a particular clump and Cas made a grunting, pained noise. He kept working. A growing pile of feathers had formed itself on the floor around the bed.

When he was done with the coverts he moved up to the top of Cas’ wing. These feathers looked soft, like a down duvet, the ones that looked like they felt like clouds. He gently ran his fingers through them and sighed at how they felt. He heard Cas’ breathing quicken as he touched them and, looking over, he saw him physically shaking on the bed.

“Cas? You good?” He spoke uncertainly, not knowing if he was hurting the angel or giving him some relief, maybe like a good back massage.

“Yes, Dean… I’m fine…” He sounded out of breath.

“Are you sure man? I can stop, I don’t wanna hurt you.”

“Dean I’m alright just-” He took a deep breath, controlling his breathing. “Please continue.” He finished, his voice now level.

Dean continued his work, delicately rearranging the feathers and pulling out the ones that needed to be pulled. Occasionally he heard Cas grunt or groan, but he wrote it off. He couldn’t imagine how much patience the angel was having with him considering Dean had never done this before. He knew it must be painful for him.

Once the first wing was done, he started on the other one and Cas looked the other way as Dean changed sides, hiding his face. Probably doesn’t want me to see him in pain . Once Dean got started, he worked through the second wing much quicker, knowing what to do now, what to look for, when to be gentle and when to be a little rougher.

The whole time he worked he heard Cas making noises, the longer he went the worse it got, Cas occasionally shifted on the bed and readjusted himself, flexed his shoulder when Dean pulled something out and shook out the shivers that ran up his spine and to the tips of his wings when Dean gently ran his fingers through the soft down at the top of his wings. Near the end he was practically panting, shaking again and Dean could see that he had his face buried in the pillow.

“Hey, Cas?”

“Yes.” His voice was rougher than usual, darker, breathy. Deans stomach twisted as he heard the sound of the wrecked angel. He kicked himself for getting off on the sound of his voice when he knew he was probably in pain. He tried to distract him.

“What are these little tufts at the top of the arches?” As he spoke, he grabbed a gentle handful of the feathers to feel them flit through his fingers. As he did this, he heard Cas let out a strangled groan and almost curl up on the bed, his breathing speeding up and his fingers gripping the sheets. Did he just? Moan? No, stupid, he’s your best friend, stop it.

“Shit, Cas I’m sorry.” Dean approached the bed but was stopped by a wing that shifted towards him, blocking his path.

“I’m f-fine… I’m fine, Dean.” Cas sounded destroyed. God, his voice… Dean moaned internally.

“Okay… um… what next?”

Cas took a few steadying breaths, and for a moment lay on the bed getting his shaking under control. “They’re called alula, the tufts at the arches.” He sounded robotic again.

“Nice, don’t touch the alula, got it. Are they good now?”

“There’s one more step. There are… glands at the base of my wings. They secrete an oil that assists in maintaining them.”

“They secrete an oil?"

“Yes, Dean, an oil. Does that make you uncomfortable?”

“No, no, no… I just didn’t expect you to… secrete things.” He took a deep breath. “Okay, at the base of your wings.” Dean felt his heart beating harder in his chest.

He crawled onto the bed and sat on his knees next to Cas’ torso. He looked at the joint where the wings met his back and tried to find the glands while simultaneously trying not to notice the delicious curve of his spine again. He lifted the feathers at the very base of the wings and found one small nub on each side.

He reached out a tentative hand, trying to be as gentle as possible and swiped at it. When he touched it, he felt a warm slippery oil glide against his finger. Cas’ entire body went rigid as he felt Dean’s touch, fists dug into the sheets, and Dean swore he heard him whine.

“Cas? Buddy?”

“Just keep going.” He growled. Dean startled at the tone of Cas’ voice, the deep gravel that seemed to scrape at Cas’ throat as he lifted his face, breathless, from the pillow. Dean decided he better keep going, so he coated his hand in oil and tried to ignore the full body shudder that ran through Cas. When he started to move his hand through the wings again, spreading the warm, sweet-smelling oil through them, Dean heard more muffled sounds being let out into the pillow. They sounded filthy. Dean could have sworn he saw Cas grind his hips into the mattress and keen at one of Dean’s particularly rough touches to his oil gland.

Stop it, it’s just your imagination, he’s in pain, of course he’s in pain, wings are sensitive, you’re making things up. Stop sexualizing your best friend while you’re supposed to be helping him through this.

He steeled his resolve and ignored every noise Cas was making. Ignored the sheen of sweat that glistened against his back, the whimpering, moaning that was being pushed into the pillow, the slight inexplicable jerk of Cas’ hips into the mattress and the growing hardness in his own jeans.

When Dean had all but finished, he coated his hand in oil a final time and brought it up to Cas’ alula, running his fingers through it.

“Oh, Dean!” The angel almost screamed, grinding his hips so hard into the mattress the bed frame broke and the lights in the room exploded.

And then Cas was gone. His clothes on the table had gone, the bed had been fixed and they were both back to their respective places in the room and the lights were fixed. All the feathers were gone, save one that was resting lightly on the table. What the ever-loving fuck was…?

At that moment Sam walked through the door holding what looked like a burger and some kind of gross, green juice.

“Where’d Cas go?” he asked, setting things down on the table and inspecting the feather curiously.

Dean stood there, wordless for about a minute and then turned to Sam. Realizing his brother had the feather he snatched it away and didn’t put it down. “He had to go.”

Dean walked to the bathroom. Well, more like sprinted, and looked at himself in the mirror. His face was flushed, a blush creeping across his cheeks, he hadn’t realized he was panting, and his pupils were blown wide with lust. That noise he made, the way he said my name… Could that have been…?

Dean took a long shower next, a very long shower. But not before he brought the last residue of Cas’ oil to his face and inhaled deeply. It smelled like Cas, not his vessel or anything that Dean had ever registered before but just… Cas. Nothing had ever smelled so enticing as he brought it to his lips and tasted it, trying not to moan too loudly at the taste of his angel.

***

The next few weeks were… bizarre.

The brothers had performed their spell, fixed the town, and headed to the next case. Dean was distracted almost all the time by the thought of those wings, touching them, looking at them, tasting them, and the noises that Castiel was making on that bed. In Dean’s mind, they were filthy, but of course he was just remembering wrong, wanting something to be true that absolutely Could. Not. Be. True. But was he making it up?

He snapped out of it as Sam yelled his name, and he swung the iron pipe at the ghost in front of him, making it disappear in a wisp of cinders.

They finished the hunt with a few more near-misses: Dean almost letting Sam get choked to death as he thought of the arch in Cas’ back, Dean fumbling with the lighter when he pictured Cas grinding his hips into the bed, and running a red light and almost getting t-boned as he replayed the audio of Cas screaming his name over and over.

When they reached the motel room, Sam slammed the door behind him and threw his duffle down. He was huffing and puffing in anger and Dean didn’t even notice. He was thinking about what it would feel like to take one of Cas’ feathers into his mouth, grazing it with his tongue. He absent-mindedly walked towards the bathroom, wanting to have a nice long shower, thinking about the angel when Sam stepped in front of the bathroom door, blocking his way.

“What the hell is going on with you?”

Dean snapped out of his thoughts and looked at his brother. “What?”

“Ever since that day with Cas, you’ve been distracted, taking WAY too many showers, fucking up on hunts, and almost destroying your car. You’ve been moon eyed and in your head for weeks! Hell, you almost got me killed back there! TWICE!”

“Relax, Sammy. I’m just tired. We’ve been working our asses off for the past couple of weeks.” He tried to get past his brother to the bathroom, but Sam shifted, still blocking the way with his moose-like shoulders.

“No, I’ve been working my ass off and picking up all your slack!” He huffed and rolled his eyes dramatically in only a way Sam could. “You know what, I’m getting my own room. Call Cas and talk about whatever the hell happened between the two of you and work it the fuck out because I can’t take this anymore!” He grabbed his bag and stormed to the door.

“What are you talking about!?”

“Figure. Your shit. OUT!” he yelled as the door slammed behind him, accentuating the last word.

Dean slumped onto the bed, head spinning from the altercation. He knew he’d been distracted for the past couple weeks, but he didn’t know he’d been making it so damn obvious. He thought about what Sam had said, to call Cas. It didn’t matter. He’d been calling Cas for days. Every case he tried to find an excuse to get the angel back down here to help them, but he never answered. He wondered if he’d crossed a boundary with Cas, if the angel was mad at him for not being gentle enough. Maybe he’s embarrassed… Maybe he liked it too much…

Dean shook the thought from his head. It wasn’t true, it couldn’t be true. He was an angel of the freaking lord; his wings couldn’t be some angelic sex toy, that would just be… unholy. Dean felt his dick kick against his jeans as he thought of it, the wrongness of it. Cas squirming on the bed for him as Dean played with his wings, driving him crazy with supercharged angelic pleasure.

He shook his head violently to clear it. “No, uh-uh, nope! Not happening, no angel wing rabbit hole.” He needed to keep his head clear. He needed to think about that day, about what happened. He went over the whole interaction in his head. Minute detail by minute detail. Cas saying his wings were sensitive, saying it could be uncomfortable for Dean, looking away from Dean, hiding his face, groaning into the pillow, grinding his hips. Dean was sure it happened, he was sure that he’d seen it, he was sure that Cas was whimpering into the pillow, sure that he heard him scream his name in sinful lust.

He was sure. And then he wasn’t sure. And then he was again. The back and forth was driving him crazy and then he’d had enough.

“Cas! Get your ass down here!” He yelled at the ceiling. Nothing. Okay, new approach .

“Cas, I’m about to get ganked by a demon if you don’t get your ass down here and help me!” He tried to put as much desperation in his voice as possible.

And then a second later he was there.

“Dean! Where is the demon?” He had his angel blade poised in his hand, ready for a fight.

“There is no demon.” Dean stared him down.

A look of complete exasperation plastered itself on Cas’ face as he put his blade away and squared his shoulders. Dean launched forward and grabbed onto his arm.

“Ah, ah, ah. You’re not going anywhere without taking me with you, mister.”

The angel rolled his eyes and easily escaped Dean’s grip. He’s so strong .

“What do you want, Dean?” Cas’ face was hard, brow furrowed. There was no emotion seeping through, except maybe annoyance.

“Take out your wings” he almost growled.

Cas’ eyes grew wide. “Pardon?” He almost squeaked.

“You heard me, Cas. Take. Out. Your wings.”

“Dean, you’re being ridiculous.” The angel was looking anywhere but Dean.

“Fine. Then explain to me what the hell happened before? What was that? Why did you just fly away without saying anything after screaming my name and breaking the damn bed?” Dean had to stop himself from slipping into another dissociative state of thinking about those damn wings.

“I was in pain and did not wish to cause you any discomfort. So I left and rearranged the room for you.” He was completely level again.

“Come on Cas don’t give me that crap. I watch you; I saw you.” He was taking a huge leap now, but he decided to put all his cards on the table. “I watched you grind your hips into that bed…” he whispered, inches from Cas’ face. A blush appeared on Cas’ face despite the stoic expression he kept there. “I heard you letting out moan after moan into that pillow, Castiel.” The angel’s expression faltered.

Dean’s eyes widened. “So I was right?”

“I don’t know what you’re- Ugh!” Dean spun him around against the wall mid-sentence, shucking off his trench coat and suit jacket, pinning him there. “-talking about.” He finished breathlessly.

“Don’t you?” Please, God let me be right. He untucked Cas’ dress shirt from his pants and snaked a hand up his bare back. The angel shivered at the touch. He started massaging his thumbs up and down the spots where he knew the wing joints were, even if he couldn’t see them, and Cas whimpered against the wall, bucking his hips against his will. “Then this doesn’t feel good?” Dean asked, a bit more confident at the reaction he was receiving.

Cas groaned and rested his forehead against the wall. “No.” he grunted.

Dean pushed his thumbs ever harder into Cas’ back and with a yelp, two huge wings suddenly manifested themselves between them. Dean buried his hand in one, bringing his mouth up to Cas’ ear. “Really?” He dragged his nails over the sensitive feathers near the top of the arches, just below the alula.

“Ohhhh, Dean…” he sighed, sinking into the wall as his back arched at the touch. Dean pulled his hand away, letting the angel regain a semblance of composure. “W-what are you doing, Dean?” he panted.

“Why didn’t you just tell me, Cas?” Dean whispered into the angel’s ear, running his fingers over the feathers again.

Cas gasped and dropped his head back onto Dean’s shoulder. “I tried…” he breathed.

“Oh right… you told me they were sensitive.” he grabbed a tuft of feathers and pulled, eliciting a pornographic moan from the angel falling apart in front of him. 

“Dean, please!”

Dean felt himself, raging hard against his jeans and resisted the urge to grind into the curve of Cas’ ass. This wasn’t about him; it was about Cas. “Please, what, Cas?” Dean reached up and brushed his fingers roughly over that tuft of feathers that drove Cas crazy.

“Ahughnh, Dean!” Cas almost crumbled beneath him as he drove his fist through the wall and grabbed on to support himself, his legs almost completely giving out.

“Jesus, Cas… This really gets you off, doesn’t it…?” He took a step back and looked at the angel, hanging onto the wall, shoulders sagged, breathing heavily as shudders ran through his feathers.

“Yes, Dean!” he spat. “It does!” His voice was rumbling deep in his chest now. He was angry. His wings curled in as he turned on Dean, snapping out behind him as he faced the hunter, blue light blazing in his eyes. He grabbed Dean by the collar. “Now, are you done humiliating me?” he asked in a low, threatening voice.

“Humiliating you?” Dean released himself from Cas’ grip and flung him down onto the bed, knocking over everything in reach as Cas’ wings gusted across the room. “You think I’m humiliating you?” Dean leaned over Cas and slotted himself between his legs, grinding his hips down into Cas so he could feel how hard Dean was.

The angel gasped and his hips bucked up into the hunter’s. “Dean…” he moaned.

“This isn’t humiliation, Cas…” He ground his hips down again. “This is me…” another thrust. “Taking what I want…” Another thrust. “Doing what you wanted me to do weeks ago.” He grabbed a fistful of feathers again and Cas’ back arched off the bed with the most sinful moan Dean had ever heard. He had to stop himself from exploding in his jeans at the noises Cas was making for him.

“You like that, angel?” he whispered in Cas’ ear.

“Yes, Dean! Yes- ah! Very much…”

“What do you want, Cas?” Dean kept slowly working his hips into Cas, slowly dragging his fingers through soft feathers that sent sparks up his fingers.

“I don’t- I can’t- want- want you… you, Dean, please!” He was writhing beneath Dean, face screwed up in pleasure, bucking his hips, searching for friction.

Dean moaned and he leaned down and almost brushed their lips together, moving to the side to pepper kisses down Cas’ jaw instead. “I love it when you beg for me, angel,” he whispered in Cas’ ear, halting his hips and removing his hands from the wings. “Do it some more…” It was almost an order.

In a flash, Dean’s clothes were gone, Cas’ along with them, and that blue light had reappeared in Cas’ eyes as he grabbed a fistful of Dean’s hair and yanked his head back, locking their eyes together.

After his surprised groan at Cas’ sudden urgency, Dean let out a chuckle. “Calm down, Cas. It’s just a little fun…” He spoke softly now and captured Cas’ lips in a slow kiss that made his inside glow. Cas hips bucked into Dean again and he let out a deep moan. “You’ll get what you want, angel…”

Dean deepened he kiss as he started moving his hips again, enjoying the heat of Cas’ bare skin beneath him coupled with the breathy moans Cas let out into his mouth. He moved his mouth to Cas’ jaw, down to his neck and started leaving sloppy kisses and sucking on the soft skin, tasting his angel. His wings shuddered behind him as Dean marked up his neck and shoulder.

“Dean…” he panted. “Please…” Dean grabbed another handful of feathers. “Please!”

Dean stood up, pulling Cas along with him until they stood, face to face, lips locking together again as Dean grabbed onto Cas’ hips and pulled him in tighter. He snaked his hands up Cas’ back searching for the spot that made Cas scream. As he brushed the nub with his fingertips, he watched Cas’ head tilt back and his wings stretch out behind him. Dean felt his dick throb when he watched Cas react the way he so obviously wanted to a few weeks ago.

“You like that, angel?” Dean felt the slippery oil coat his fingers and traced his tongue up Cas’ neck, yearning to taste every part of him.

“Yes, Dean, more, please more… anything, all of it…”

Dean dug his nails into Cas’ back as he heard his angel bed for him. “Anything?” he asked, nipping slightly at the angel’s earlobe.

“Yes, Dean, please… just… give me everything.”

Dean disengaged from Cas, breaking the iron grip that had formed above his shoulders. He turned Cas around, ducking underneath his wing and pressing himself against the angel, dick pressing firmly into the cleft of his ass. At the touch, Cas started grinding his ass into Dean, moaning as the hunter trailed kisses down his neck.

“Do you trust me, Cas?” Dean started running his hands through the feathers again, brushing over the alula again to hear those sweet sounds escape Cas’ mouth. Cas nodded, unable to string together a coherent sentence.

“Lay down on the bed, angel…” Cas obeyed immediately, laying down on the bed as he had done weeks ago. Dean climbed on top of him, straddling the angel’s ass and leaning down to trail kisses down his neck, his back. He continued carding his fingers through the feathers, enjoying the waves of pleasure rippling through Cas and the way his wings shivered beneath his fingertips. His mouth made its way to the joint where the wing met Cas’ back and reached out his tongue to lick up the trail of slick that had leaked down Cas’ back. He groaned aloud and ground his hips into Cas as the taste exploded in his mouth.

“You taste so good, Cas…” Cas whimpered below him as Dean’s mouth worked around the sensitive area of skin, and when Dean closed his mouth and sucked next to the gland, Cas threw his head back and all but screamed as he ground his hips into the mattress. Dean watched the feathers of his wings ripple as he fell apart and came for Dean.

“Dean! Oh, Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean…” After he worked his hips through his climax Cas lay there panting, shaking under Dean’s touch.

Dean crawled up Cas’ body and laid soft kisses on his neck, “That good enough for you, Cas?”

“More- need more- a-all of you, Dean…”

“Cas, are you kidding you just-?”

“I am not… limited… by the same confines as you, Dean… Please…” Cas flipped himself over on the bed, bringing the two men face to face as he grabbed the back of Dean’s neck and crashed their lips together in a kiss that knocked the wind from him.

When they broke apart Dean breathlessly chuckled, “Don’t have to ask me twice.”

He sat up on his knees, staring down at the angel beneath him. Cas’ eyes were hooded, pupils blown, his sex hair more sex hair than any sex hair has ever been, legs spread open for him and his dick throbbing. Dean felt a heat go straight to his dick and he sat, devouring the scene in front of him.

“Deeeaan…” Cas whined beneath him, pulling Dean forward with his heel in his back.

“Impatient much?” he asked with a smirk as he started trailing kisses down Cas’ chest. He traced his mouth over his pecs, taking a nipple between his teeth and nibbling lightly, enjoying Cas’ small whimper and the bucking of his hips. He moved south, licking down his stomach and nuzzling the crook of his thigh where it met his groin, inhaling Cas’ smell. He noticed Cas’ neglected wings flapping lightly on the bed, yearning to be touched as Dean licked a strip up the underside of his dick.

“Oh, Dean…” The angel shuddered.

In one swift motion Dean took Cas entirely into his mouth, rolling his eyes to the back of his head as Castiel’s back arched off the bed in pleasure and he let out a gravely moan. Taking advantage of the angel’s position, Dean reached beneath him and pressed roughly against his oil gland, eliciting another earth-shattering moan from the angel as Dean collected the slick in his hand.

Cas was writhing above him now, bucking his hips into the hunter’s mouth as Dean sucked and babbling in what Dean thought was Enochian. If this went on much longer, Dean didn’t know if he’d be able to control himself enough to properly prep him.

Removing his mouth and smirking at the begging whine that escaped the angel at the loss of friction, Dean traced his finger along the cleft of Cas’ ass. He pushed down onto Dean’s fingers, wanting to feel more as Dean reached up and dug his fingers into soft feathers, causing another shudder to wrack through his body.

Dean tried to steady his breathing as he watched his angel fall apart, he needed to pay attention now. “Okay, Cas, you gotta bear with me here, buddy, this might feel a little weird at first.”

Cas pushed down against Dean’s fingers again. “Dean, I don’t care! Just do it!” he begged. Dean took the okay and slowly eased his first finger in, feeling his dick kick at the feeling of being inside the angel.

“More, Dean! More!” Cas ground his hips down onto Dean’s finger, burying it to the last knuckle.

Usually, Dean would have waited a bit more, taken his time, but he was so hot now that he chalked it up to angel mojo and easily slipped another finger in, listening to the way Cas keened above him, still pushing down onto Dean’s hand.

“Dean, come on! I can take it!”

“Cas, are you serious?” He looked up at the angel, and those damn blue eyes were glowing again, sending bolts of heat though Dean’s body straight to his dick.

Suddenly, Dean felt his hand being pulled out of Cas, and a soft blanket of feathers pressed hard into his back and pushed him towards the angel, lining up their hips perfectly.

“Jesus, Cas, warn a guy, would ya?” He panted as he felt himself press against Cas’ slick, hot hole.

“I’m tired of waiting, Dean…” he panted as he gave Dean another skillful push with his wings, and suddenly Dean was gasping for breath, buried to the hilt inside of Cas as the angel threw his head back in ecstasy.

“Fuck- Cas- so tight- uhg…” Dean fell forward slightly and pressed his hand to Cas’ chest for support. Dean couldn’t believe the feeling. He was inside Cas and the hot heat of him almost made Dean blow his load right there, but he wanted to make this good for him, he wanted Cas to get everything he wanted.

“Dean…” Cas all but growled. “Move.” he commanded.

Dean’s hips stuttered as he started rocking into Cas, grunting at the explosion of feeling of newfound friction.

“Oh fuck, Cas- feel s-so fucking good.” he groaned. He picked up speed as he felt Cas open up to him, taking every inch of him. He shifted his position ever so slightly, searching for the spot he knew was there, and after a few tries, he hit that bundle of nerves and watched as Cas’ wings snapped out, stretching to their full extent, knocking things down as they went.

“Oh, FUCK, DEAN!”

Dean started thrusting in earnest now, hitting that spot with every stroke as he buried his head in Cas’ neck and started sucking bruises there, sliding his hand beneath the angel and dragging his nails down the soft down feathers where his wings met his back.

Cas gasped and shuddered beneath him, endless moans escaping his lips in Enochian and broken English as he took every single one of Dean’s thrusts.

“Dean- uhg, fuck Dean, Dean, Dean, Dean, I- ah! I’m gonna-” Cas was cut off by a strangled moan as he gripped the back of Dean’s head and sunk his teeth into his shoulder, tumbling over the edge cumming between them.

At the feeling of Cas’ teeth in his shoulder and tightening around him in pulses Dean felt his own orgasm coming.

“God, Cas, yes-” He felt himself coming so close as he kept burying himself in his angel.

Cas detached his teeth from Dean, “Not yet...” The angel panted as he pressed his fingers to Dean’s temple, and he felt his orgasm stuck on the verge of exploding as he kept pounding into Cas. Dean could feel him still hard between their stomachs and he whined at the feeling of being so close, but unable to surge over the edge.

“Oh God, Cas, please!” he rasped into the angel’s neck. “You’re killin’ me.” He almost sobbed.

Cas grappled at Dean’s back, nails digging into his skin as Dean kept working his hips unrelentingly, chasing his release. “More, Dean, more, more, more…” Cas was chanting as he took the abuse.

“Fuck, Cas, angel- my angel, mine- please-” Dean could hardly take it anymore, it was driving him crazy, the feeling of being so close, buried inside of Cas, every nerve of his body on fire with pleasure he didn’t know he was capable of feeling. “Please, angel- I need- need it, please.”

He reached his hands up to the arch of Cas’ wings, practically using them as handles as he sank his fingers into Cas’ alula. Cas went crazy beneath him, arching off the bed, his mouth opening in a silent scream as Dean kept up the unwavering movement of his hips, once again smashing into Cas’ prostate.

“Cum for me angel, please cum for me” he panted. “Let go, let go, angel. Let go for me!”

At that moment, Dean felt his release grip him and he exploded into Cas as waves of pleasure rocked his entire body. Every light in the room exploded as he felt Cas release him and grab the sheets of the bed, tearing them at the seams. His wings flexed behind him and the room shook, the faint sound of a mirror cracking in the bathroom, the TV turning on, then sparking, showering the room in electric light. Dean hung on to Cas as they rode out the waves of pleasure together, drinking in each other’s screams and moans.

As the room settled, the two men lay panting against each other, blissful in the afterglow as Dean stroked lazy circles into Cas’ wings and the angel ran his finger gently through Dean’s hair.

“Dean, that was… very pleasant.”

“Cas, that was… the most… amazing- I can’t even…” Dean was still panting into Cas’ chest.

“Would you like to go again?” Cas asked.

“Dude, seriously? You just went like three rounds!” Dean lifted himself onto his elbows, realizing that Cas had draped his wings over him, warm feathers encircling him and spreading warmth through his body.

“I told you, Dean. I am not limited by your same physical limits; my grace allows me to recuperate much faster.”

Dean chuckled. “Okay well, you’ll need to give me some time man, I don’t have angel juice to keep me goin’.” Dean shifted above Cas and felt the mess growing sticky and cold between them and he grimaced. Cas waved his hand lazily and the mess was gone, the room put back together the way it should be, and Dean felt the covers on top of them.

“I’m sorry for the mess by the way, I struggled near the end to control myself, the pleasure was… immense.”

Dean looked at Cas, soft smile on his face as Dean watched him reminisce, hair sticking up in all directions, bruises forming on his neck where Dean’s mouth had been. “Believe me, angel, if I could do what you can do, I’d have probably done worse.” He chuckled softly then let silence fall between them. He leaned in and placed a tentative kiss against Cas’ lips, the heat of sex gone, replaced with soft affection that made him hesitant.

Cas immediately deepened the kiss, bringing his hand up to the back of Dean’s neck and inhaling deeply. They pulled away, each staring into each other’s eyes.

“You are so beautiful, Dean.” the angel breathed.

Dean rolled his eyes, “Cas-”

Castiel grabbed Dean’s chin firmly, locking their eyes together as Dean tried to look away. “Dean. I feel we’ve reached a level of comfort where I can tell you freely that you’re the most beautiful being I’ve ever laid eyes on. And you will let me. I’ve been waiting too long to hold back now.” He pressed a soft kiss to Dean’s lips again.

“Okay… fair. But then you listen to me.” Dean’s eyes hardened a bit. “Your wings…” It was Cas’ turn to role his eyes. “Hey, your wings are the most amazing thing I’ve ever seen. Cas, they’re gorgeous and I’ll tell you over and over until you listen to me. You wear them with pride because they saved my life, my soul. And I’ll be damned if you don’t respect the hell out of ‘em, if you don’t love ‘em like I do.”

Cas’ eyes widened. “Love them?”

“Of course I love them Cas, I love them like…” He took a deep breath, trying to stave off the nausea creeping into his stomach. “Like I love you…” he breathed finally.

Cas crashed their lips together in a searing kiss, and Dean saw stars. For the first time, his head was clear enough to focus on the kiss, to feel Cas’ soft lips against his, to taste him and explore his mouth with his tongue. He lost track of how long they’d been locked in their embrace. When he pulled away, Dean saw tears streaming down Cas’ face, a pained expression in his eyes. “Cas, hey, what’s wrong?” He took the angel’s face in his hands, his heart dropping. “I’m sorry I didn’t mean to… really if I took it too far I’m-”

“I love you too, Dean.” Cas sobbed, pressing their foreheads together. Dean brought Cas’ face to the crook of his neck and let the angel cry. His heart skipped a beat as he realized that Cas loved him. He didn’t know until that moment exactly what this had meant to Cas, if it was just him discovering the physical pleasure that came with having a physical body, if he was just using Dean as a kind of experiment or thinking that Dean had one night stands all the time. He was finally brave enough to admit to himself that if this was just a one-time thing for Cas, Dean didn’t know what he’d do. He realized in that moment that he’d loved the angel in his arms for much longer than he cared to admit.

“I’m sorry, Cas…”

“For what?” he whimpered into Dean’s shoulder.

“For not saying it sooner…”

Dean slipped off Cas, realizing he had put his wings away, and draped his arm over him, pulling him tight and letting him snuggle up close to take solace in Dean’s warmth and comfort.

They lay like that for a long time, Cas’ soft sobs turning into steady breathing as Dean fell into the sweet embrace of sleep in the arms of his angel.

***

He slept dreamless that night and awoke the next morning more rested than he’d felt in years. Cas was still snuggled into his chest, drawing lazy circles on Dean’s shoulder where his handprint used to be.

“Cas?”

The angel looked up. “Dean.” He smiled at the hunter.

“What time is it?”

“Four in the afternoon, you’ve been asleep for fourteen hours.” he stated simply.

“Fourteen hours?!” Dean went to get out of bed, but Cas stopped him.

“You’re fine, Dean. Your brother came by this morning, he’s fine as well.”

“Sam came by?” Cas nodded. “Into the room? And saw us like this?” Dean’s voice was laced with concern and trepidation.

“Yes, and I informed him that you were still resting after our night of strenuous and heated intercourse.”

Dean let out a bark of laughter. “Oh God, Cas.” He covered his face with his hands, still laughing. “I guess me and Sammy need to have a talk now.”

“Why?” Cas tilted his head to the side the way he does and Dean beamed at him.

“He walks in on a naked angel in my bed, a naked male angel who happens to be my best friend, and you don’t think he’ll have questions?” As he looked at Cas’ confused expression, Dean leaned in and captured his lips in a deep kiss.

“What was that for?” Cas asked breathlessly as they broke apart.

“For all the times I wanted to do that but couldn’t.” Dean smiled.