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It’s easy to forget ya know?
That Cas isn’t human.
What with the human meat suit and the new-age slang he keeps learning….
It’s easy to forget.
But there are moments
Bright shiny moments.
When its obvious.
Painfully obvious.
The is not. Human that is.
Oh yes there are the big moments, like when they are fighting obviously.
But there are other moments.
A quirk of the lips when a vague bible reference is made-signifying he was there.
Or a reference he makes, unintentionally showing just how old he is.
Or just a look in his eyes- oh god his eyes.
They held the knowledge of the millennia. They made Dean feel small. Microscopic in comparison.
At times he hates it.
And then others- like now- that he loves it.
He loves looking into those impossibly blue eyes and seeing the knowledge that Castiel holds.
Its beyond his ability to comprehend.
So yes, there are times where he forgets. Where he just clasps his hand on Cas’ shoulder and offers him a beer before remembering that Cas isn’t human and therefore has no need to drink.
So sue him.
But then there are moments like now- like right freakin now- that it’s so painfully obvious he’s not.
The were sitting, relaxing in the bunker’s den after a long hunt, each male on their own respective sides of the couch.
He had just made some vague TV reference and Cas had gone and done the head tilt with the eye squint he loves to do so much.
That Dean loves to see him do so much.
And then there was a rustle.
It was brief, but it was there.
Cas’ wings.
In the 5 years of knowing the angel, he’s seen those wings maybe that many times. And not even the full things, just glimpses or shadows.
Hell, the closest he ever got to seeing them was that first night in the barn with Bobby.
But he’s heard them many times, just a quick little flap here and there.
Mostly when Cas comes and goes- or really, when Cas flies away.
He’d even flown Dean a couple of times.
Not like he would ever recommend it. That shit was nauseating. And you don’t poop right for a week.
But he’ll hear them at other times too.
When Cas gets too happy.
Or confused.
Or annoyed like he is right now.
He dislikes it when Dean makes a reference he does not understand. And typically Cas will then make his own random reference from millennia ago that dean won’t understand- as if it makes them even.
Which it kind of does- and then reiterates the fact that Cas is not human.
And that throws Dean into a loop all over again.
He has never hated Cas for not being human.
He hated the other dicks with wings- but never Cas.
Not even when he went all pseudo-god all over the place.
Okay he MIGHT have hated him a little when he refused to leave purgatory.
But that was because of his choices, not because of what he is. Then was. Now is again.
God they live such fucked up lives.
But that was besides the point.
He has known this angel- this fantastic being of a man for years. And he has never seen those wings.
Time to rectify that.
“Cas…” he seemed to understand there was a shift in Dean’s demeanor. He has gotten more perceptive of that over the years. Oh god, it has been years. And Dean was going to ask this now? Right in the middle of one of the few relaxing moments they have at the bunker?
“Yes Dean?” Oh god, oh god, breathe. No panicking. You’re just asking your best friend, a freakin angel of the lord, a question.
“Do you…” oh fuck, he was freaking out. “Can i…” Cas’ eyes squinted harder, leaning a little closer to Dean and into the personal bubble that dean has long given up on establishing with Cas. The dude never listened anyway. And Dean thought he looked absolutely adorable. ‘No, no, BAD THOUGHTS.’ He always told himself that, but it didn’t stop the thoughts from appearing.
“What is it Dean?” The younger male grunted, a small splash of pink on his cheeks. just ask already you freakin pussy!
“Can I see your wings?” It came out in such a rush. Like he HAD to say them quick or they wouldn't come out at all. Cas blinked at him and stayed quiet. For all of two seconds before Dean started backpedaling. “Sorry. Right. Too personal. That was. WOW. Very stupid. Sorry. Just forget it.” He was babbling. He knew he was babbling. But he couldn't stop. He done fucked up. Now Cas was going to be pissed and--
“You want to see...my wings.” It wasn't a question. And the angel sounded strangely neutral about it. Which freaked Dean out even more. Happy Cas- albeit kinda freaky- was something he could deal with. Pissed Cas he could DEFINITELY deal with. Neutral Cas? Quiet Cas?
Fuck that.
That shit freaked him out.
“Forget it- it was a stupid stupid idea.” He leapt off the couch, intending to go hide in his room with a bottle of shitass liquor until the end of time. Until he hit what felt like an invisible wall and he pretty much ricocheted back into the couch arm. What. The. Fuck.
“I did not say it was a stupid idea Dean.” Oh god, he was using that stupid tone. That stupid patronizing tone that made Dean feel small. And he was glad that Sammy had already gone to bed so Dean didn’t have to worry about anyone hearing Cas use that tone with him.
“Oh.” it was all he could manage. He hated it when Cas took that tone with him. It made him feel like a kid again. It was quiet. And he could feel those eyes on him. Those impossibly blue eyes.
And Dean looked anywhere but him.
“Why.” Wait, what? Dean’s head swung around so fast he swore he got whiplash.
“Why what?” His tone was challenging. Defensive. Dean did nothing wrong. And he would be damned (again) if Cas made him feel that way.
“Why now? You have never held any interest before.” Well that was true. As far as Cas knew anyway. Beyond the standard winged-ass jokes he made about the other angels and that time waaaay-back-when when he was talking to Anna, he has never referenced Cas’ wings. Ever. for some odd reason that made Dean feel...well...he wasn’t sure. And now he DID feel like he’s done something wrong.
“I just figured...ya know...with everything that's happened…” No, Cas did not know. He didn’t understand. Dean had never cared about his wings before. Why would the green-eyed man ask about them now? And somehow Dean seemed to understand Cas’ line of thinking and he sighed. “By the time…” he paused and licked his suddenly dry lips. “I’ve wanted to see them for awhile now. But it was never a good time. Then you lost your grace. And now you have it back but it still never seemed like a good time…” It was silent again. For a while. or at least, it felt like a while to Dean. And then Cas blinked, turning those gorgeous blue eyes away. And suddenly Dean felt even more naked without those eyes than he did with them.
“And now suddenly is a good time?” Either Cas was trying to make sense of it, or he was rubbing it in Dean’s face, he wasn’t sure. And then suddenly Dean felt small, smaller than he’s ever felt.
“I just...its never a good time I guess. but I wanted to ask. Sorry, I know its fucked up. Just forget I said anything.” Wow, he probably apologized more in this conversation than he’s done in years. But Cas had that effect. He somehow made it easier and yet harder to talk at the same time. They sat in silence and honestly Dean was expecting Cas to just up and wing it out of here. Maybe not talk to Dean for a couple of weeks until this conversation was a distant memory to both of them. That thought alone made Dean crave a nice strong drink. The idea of not talking to Cas after all they’ve been through, even just for a couple of weeks, set Dean on edge. Minutes ticked by and Dean’s jaw tightened, his teeth grinding together.
“Okay.” The reply was so quiet, Dean almost missed it over the roar of his own thoughts. Green eyes raked over the tense form of the angel and a confused look crossed over his eyes. Why was Cas so tense?
“Okay.” It was all he could say in response. And the minutes ticked by. And Dean waited. And Cas just sat there all hunched. Should Dean do something? Say something? “umm you don’t have to if you don't want to.” And of course, that seemed to be the wrong thing to say because Dean always says the wrong thing and if freakin’ possible Cas gets even stiffer.
“Its not that I do not wish to Dean.” He pauses and Dean hangs on his every word. “My wings...they are not considered...aesthetically pleasing by angel standards.” Well that made Dean blink. And stutter. And sit back.
“You’re afraid I’m not going to think you’re pretty??” It sounded absurd and Cas huffed at him, his blue eyes glaring. There was a rustle, and then a brief flash of light that had Dean seeing stars and suddenly they were there. Of course Cas would have no tact. Give him no warning. Ass.
The wings were MASSIVE.
Large, looming masses that were tall and extended above Castiel. They were spread- but not to their full potential. Dean would almost call it a relaxed pose if not for the fact the feathers were bristled. Like a pissed off bird.
But oh the feathers. They were gorgeous.
They were black. Kind of. A little metallic-ey. They looked shiny, like motor oil. They were black yes, but as the light hit them they turned blue, purple, a deep red.
They were…
“Gorgeous.” He didn’t mean to say it aloud. He really didn’t. It just kind of...slipped out. But finally, finally it was like he said the right thing because Cas actually relaxed. His shoulders sagged, as if a huge weight had been removed. His head bowed lower yes, but he didn’t look like he was about to bolt anymore. So that was good. Dean could handle Cas not looking at him at the moment.
Actually Dean probably couldn't handle the angel’s smoldering gaze right now.
Plus its not like Dean was looking at Cas’ face right now.
He couldn’t get past those wings.
Hesitantly, almost as if it would burn him, Dean reached out. Slowly, ever so slowly. The first touch was feather light- pun intended. He didn’t want to hurt the beautiful wings. But he wanted to touch them. to feel them. the next touch was a little firmer.
They felt...well fuckin hell, they felt heavenly. They were smooth. Warm. And his hand just glided over them. It was only supposed to brief. It wasn’t like he went into this bearing the thought of molesting Cas into next week but hey! Here he was, fingers deep in Cas’ wings.
And god they felt so good.
He could feel himself go lethargic as his hands tangled into Cas’ wings. The feathers slipped between his fingers like water as he combed through them, realigning the ones that were out of place. Dean was in his own little world as he worked, sifting through all the feathers. He noticed his fingers getting shiny, an oil covering them and he stared in wonder. The wings shifted beneath his touch and he felt the solid muscle underneath. He rubbed the muscle lightly, feeling the strong bones and the massive wings gave a small shiver- barely noticeable. He didn’t realize he was scooting closer to Cas on the couch until he was practically on top of the angel. It was when Dean touched the small downy feathers close to Cas’ side that the man gave a low groan, the wings curling around them. And for a moment, Dean thought he had hurt him. Until...
“Dean.” And he knew that tone. He’d heard it hundreds of times. But from naked people. In the throes of passion. That he was fucking-- oh. And he FINALLY snapped out of the little world he had thrown himself into.
And noticed that Cas was panting.
And damn near writhing in his seat, hands clutching the couch cushion under him like it was a freaking life line.
Oh god... that was hot.
“C-Cas?” He did not stutter. Dean Winchester doesn’t fucking stutter.
But he did. He totally freakin did.
Suddenly Cas looked up at him and Dean didn’t care. The blue that he loved so much was damn near over taken by black- the angel’s pupils lust blown. That gaze held him captive. His hand twitched, squeezing the down feathers lightly and he swore he felt more oil on his hand.
Cas went cross eyed.
“Fuck.” Hearing Castiel- angel of the freakin lord CURSE- had Dean groaning. He would do anything to hear that noise again. He tugged-lightly of course- on the soft feathers and Cas whimpered, fucking whimpered, hips bucking upwards. And thats when Dean noticed the very large, very prominent bulge in the angel’s slacks.
Oh god…
“Castiel.” He said his full name. Dean never uses his full name. Blue eyes tried to focus on his face. Those bright green eyes. The freckled covered cheeks. That strong chiseled jaw. And Cas whimpered again.
Fuck Dean was hot.
The wings closed around them, trapping Dean against the angel. Not like he would complain. His grasp on the wings tightened and Cas saw stars.
“Don’t stop.” It was a beg. A plea. Cas sounded absolutely wrecked. And Dean loved it. The angels hips gyrated downwards rotating in small circles. And Dean’s grabbing got rougher. He combed through the feathers yes, but he pulled and twisted. Not too hard. He was never too rough with Cas. Whimpers and moans slipped through those cracked lips he could never stop thinking about. A wicked thought crossed his mind and he smirked. He leaned forward, pausing simply to breathe near the wings. It smelled like lightning. And Dean growled. And lunged. His teeth sunk into the top of the wing and Cas screamed. His back arched, hips pushing down into the couch, and those perpetually cracked lips parted in the most delicious of ways.
His angel was so goddamn beautiful.
Dean pulled and twisted at the feathers, squeezing the long flight feathers until they bent in his fingers.
Cas was his.
The thought had his blood racing. He mouthed at the hard bone of Cas’ wings, teeth sinking in and tongue soothing away the light pain. His angel babbled beneath him and Dean vaguely noticed Cas was speaking less and less English. he was babbling in Enochian.
And that was hott. So fucking hott.
Slowly Dean shimmied down until he was kneeling between Cas’ legs and he damn near growled when Cas parted his thighs wide for him. Just for him.
“Such a good little angel.” Cas fucking preened under Dean’s fucked-out voice. The hunter barely recognized it himself. It had been so long since he’d been this turned on and it was all for Cas.
Only ever for Cas.
His tongue worked its way through the feathers, sucking quills into his mouth in order to reach the soft down underneath.
“Dean…Dean!” The way Cas was calling his name, like a prayer, made Dean throb. God, he wanted his little angel so fucking bad. He cooed, licking his way to the sensitive down at Cas’ sides and almost growled when his nose touched Cas’ stupid button down. He could ignore it...for now. He grabbed two fistfuls of the feathers and groaned at the feel of them being covered in oil. His angel’s oil. Even as horribly inhuman it was, in made Dean even harder with need because it was Cas and even if Dean didn’t know what the hell he was doing or touching, all he knew was it made Cas moan with want and holy GOD he didn’t know what this oil was but it tasted sweet and bitter at the same time. It tasted like Cas. Just Cas.
He wanted more.
He tongued through the mass of down, his fingers digging and rubbing at the muscle in the wings when he felt it. A high pitched groan left Cas’ throat as he arched, pushing those large wings into his face and Dean’s tongue traced over the little nub again.
“Dean!” Cas’ hands were on him, in his hair, tugging, pulling. And it made him groan seeing Castiel losing himself like this. All for him. Only for him. A possessive growl echoed in his chest and his hands tensed before pushing hard, pinning Cas’ wings to the couch. His chest pressed hard in between Cas’ legs and Dean felt Cas’ hardness against him.
His little angel was so hard for him.
And it made Dean’s mouth water.
Both hands clenched tightly- borderline painful as he licked at the nub again, the taste of oil filling his mouth. His angel mewled at the onslaught and Dean pressed harder against him until Cas was trapped between his hard chest and the couch, rubbing his chest against Cas’ hardness. Incoherent babbles and whines filled his ears and Dean grinned wickedly, swiping his tongue over and over the sensitive nub, face absolutely drenched in oil.
Oh god, the taste.
He couldn't get enough.
He wanted more.
With a loud groan, Dean wrapped his tongue around the sensitive nub, his fingers easily finding the twin in the soaked down of the other wing, before his lips closed tightly and he sucked.
“DEAN!” With a loud and final cry, Castiel came hard, hips thrusting against Dean’s strong chest and back pulled taut like a bow. His body glowed as his pleasure peaked, mouth wide and head thrown back in ecstasy, come staining the inside of his slacks, seeping through to form a nice wet spot. The hunter growled, fingers carding their way through the wings desperate to prolong the pleasure for his angel, green eyes watching hungrily as Castiel fell apart for him.
Just for him.
Because of him.
Another growl tore through his throat, rumbling his chest and whimpers spilled forth as the vibrations stimulated Castiel’s over sensitized body. Despite the needwantclaim rushing through his veins, Dean’s grip loosened, fingers running gently through damp feathers and his oil covered face nuzzled into Castiel’s stomach. Whines trailed into whimpers trailed into soft sighs at Dean’s gentle touch and cooing.
His angel was so perfect.
Finally blue met green as Dean nuzzled up the clothed chest, placing chaste kisses on the warm neck and pink tinted cheek. Shaky fingers looped behind Dean’s neck as they leaned forward, foreheads touching and breath mingling. Finally their lips brushed, oil smearing between them and the taste of himself on Dean’s lips had Cas whimpering. They pulled away for air and a bright smile spread across Dean’s face.
“My perfect angel.”