The Wings were in the Way

[gedry]

FIC: The Wings Were in the Way, Dean/Castiel, R
Title: The Wings were in the Way
Author: Gedry
Fandom: Supernatural
Pairings: Dean/Castiel
Rating: R
Word Count: 6,180
Disclaimer: These characters do not belong to me. I am making no profit from this fanfiction.
Warnings: Wing kink
Summary: Interspecies dating is complicated.


Angels are just a fact of life. They are a constant in the world like every other living thing. Dean works with them, sees them at the grocery store, hell, he even dated one once. Though he isn’t sure if a few days of flirting and quick role in the back seat of the impala count as dating. Still it sounds better than casual sex. Anyway, Dean is used to seeing angels. He’s just not used to them seeing him. Not really.

Angels are dicks. No really, they are. Well groomed, professional, arrogant, holier than thou dicks. They walk (and fly) around like they own the place. Looking down their collective three piece suit noses at everyone who doesn’t have giant fluffy wings growing out of their shoulder blades. Anna was a slight exception to the rule but only because she was going through a much abbreviated rebellious period, culminating with Dean in the impala and then Dean waking up alone in a ditch. He leaves that part of the story out when he tells the tale.

So he is understandably more than a little shocked when the new guy at the salvage yard slides out from under the tow truck with torn jeans, no shirt, three days worth of scruffy facial hair, and wings. WTF? It’s not just the fact that he has them that’s so weird, it’s that they are dirty. There are oil stains on the underside like the guy wiped his hands on them after taking out an engine. The way the feathers stand up in all different directions. Never in all of his life has Dean ever seen and angel look less than impeccable. This one looks like a bomb went off and he tried to stop the blast with his wings.

“Dean. DEAN!”

Bobby Singer is a hard working son of a bitch. He never sleeps and seems to think nobody else has to either. And he is yelling which in most jobs would be worrisome but here is just another day at the office.

“Boy, have you heard anything I just said?”

“Um, no…”

“That” He says, pointing at the crazy Unabomber looking angel across the yard. “is Castiel. Show him around.” And after that enlightening bit of information Bobby is off to yell at Chuck and probably Becky who Dean is pretty sure are making out in the office, again. It must be Thursday.

Dean strolls across to Castiel. Who has turned at some point during his brief and loud conversation with Bobby to watch his approach. As he gets closer Dean watches Castiel tip his head to the side while he stares at Dean like Dean is the freak here. Like he is looking at parts of Dean that his body doesn’t show. That’s another thing Dean has always hated about angels. When they feel like it they can look right into your soul.

Dean’s soul is not something he is 100% comfortable with.

"I’m Dean Winchester.”

“Castiel” Their handshake is brief but leaves a trail of fire up Dean’s arm. That overheated zing he has gotten every time he touches an Angel.

“Bobby asked me to show you around. Do you want the ten cent or fifty cent tour?”

There is that head tilt again. The angel’s eyes narrow like he thinks Dean is speaking a different language. Then it’s gone and a small smile tips the side of his mouth.

“What I would like is some help removing the parts from this truck. I’ve been working on it for over an hour and have yet to make any significant progress.”

It is months later before Dean realizes that from day one Castiel, rumpled up angel of the lord, played him. A tour around the salvage yard would have been uncomfortable and strained for both of them. But working on a vehicle engages his mind and Dean slides under the truck, assess the angels work, and is up to his elbows in truck parts in less than five minutes. An hour later their conversation has moved on from “Hand me that wrench.” To “Where do you want to go for lunch?” They end their first day with a feeling of accomplishment and Dean drives home with a pleasant feeling of warmth swirling in his stomach.

It is a week later, after several tow truck rides together, a week full of shared lunches, and fairly constant conversation that Dean says “Night Cas!’ as he walks off the yard and realizes that for the first time in his adult life he has a friend. He spends his weekend pretty much like normal. He cleans up the apartment, watches some movies, burns some more albums for Sammy, whose college is in the middle of nowhere and gets no good radio reception. On their annual Sunday morning phone call Deal finds himself telling his brother about his week, and his weird, angel/friend. Sam’s response of “Sounds like you’re pretty happy, Dean.” Should have set off alarms for him then. Sammy is more aware of those inner personal emotions than Dean and he has been concerned that Dean leads too solitary of a life.

By Monday morning Dean’s trying to work out how you ask and angel if they have a phone number. After all Sunday night Dean had wanted to go out for a burger or something and it wasn’t until then that he realized he had no idea how to contact Cas unless they were both at work. Over lunch he stutters through “So, umm, I was wondering, you know, if you ever wanted to hang out, um after work or something. And I don’t have you’re a…number, assuming you have one, because maybe you don’t and..”

“862-8792. Are you going to eat those fries?” and suddenly, having a friend doesn’t seem so hard.

Accidents happen. Even to good people. Dean isn’t sure when Cas stopped being an angel in his mind and started being just a man, just his best friend. It’s a Thursday, Dean hates Thursdays, too close to the weekend without actually being the weekend. He and Cas have plans to go to some concert Cas is excited about. It’s not Dean’s type of thing but sometimes you make sacrifices. After all Cas sat through monster night at the old movie theater with Dean when he clearly would have rather been sleeping. It’s what friends do. Cas is currently in the dirt again under a bus that has an axel issue. He’s halfway through the removal process when the jack holding the bus up slips and tips everything toward him. Dean’s whole world stops for a moment; he hears his blood rushing in his ears. But instead of being crushed Cas grabs the bottom of the bus and shoves. Tipping the bus back up and off of him long enough for Bobby to slide the jack back in place. Dean hears his own exhale long and ragged leaving his chest. His shoulders drop and the world starts to move again. Angels are strong sons of bitches. Then the halfway removed axel slips out of where Cas had been trying to remove it and falls. Dean jerks; the loud noise jolting him and thinks That was a close one.  Until he hears Cas screaming and Bobby yelling at him to help. When he reaches them Dean realizes that the axel would have missed anyone else but instead landed on Cas’s right wing.

Cas is jerking trying to get away from the axel pinning his wing down. He is screaming so loudly that Dean is sure his ears are bleeding. He does the only thing he can think to do sliding under the bus almost on top of his friend and clamping his hand over Cas’s mouth. Cas’s eyes snap open and focus on Dean. Tears leaking out of his eyes to roll into the dirt. Dean uses his body weight to pin the wing in place. Whispering words of nonsense and comfort to his friend who quiets enough that Dean can hear him begging in a low torn voice

“Please Dean. Please. It hurts. It HURTS.”

It feels like forever until the paramedics come and they get to emergency room. The wing is broken in two places with a long gash and missing feathers on the underside where the axel cut into it. They say they don’t know if he will ever be able to fly again. The doctors aren’t used to working on Angels. Angels have healers. But no one comes.

“Cas. Tell me who to call.”

“There’s no one.”

“What about your family? Someone has to be able to help you man.”

“I have no idea where my parents are. I had a brother but he died. It was just the two of us. I’m alone, Dean. There is no one.”

“There’s me, Cas. There’s me.”

When he is released Cas comes home with Dean to his tiny loft apartment. There is only one bed and Cas gets it. Dean spends a week sleeping in a chair next to the bed because Cas has terrible dreams. He thrashes, yells, and cries in his sleep. Dean soothes him the best he can. Once he comes off the pain medication things get a lot better. Dean moves to the couch. Bobby gives both Dean and Cas work they can do from the apartment. Filing invoices, and stalking customers via phone for payment. Dean learns so much about Cas during the first few weeks after the accident. How he came from a wealthy family. He and his brother groomed for high society living. How his older brother rebelled sneaking off, skipping classes, ending in a noisy confrontation with his parents where his brother was thrown out and Cas was told to fall in line or get out with him. He says he never regrets leaving with Gabriel that night. Dean’s chest aches thinking of Sammy when Cas tells him about finding his brother dead in the street after being attacked by some stupid kid who thought that an angel must have some money on him and was angry when he found out Gabriel didn’t.

Dean tells Cas about his parents dying and being bounced from foster home to foster home until he ended up at Bobby’s when he was fifteen. How Bobby kept him there even when his wife had died giving Dean the first safe permanent home he remembers in his life. He tells Cas in the dark one night, the words slipping out easier without the lights on, about how he finally found Sammy. How Sam was tall and strong and happy with his adopted family. How proud Dean is of him and how grateful he is to even have a tiny spot in his brother’s life. Even whispering to him about how his chest aches with the pain of not being there with his brother as they grew up. How lonely he sometimes feels. He doesn’t realize he is crying until he is pulled into a tight embrace and Cas uses his good wing to wrap around Dean and hold him close.

Cas’s wing heals. There will always be a scar and the wing itself is very weak. They end up having to do a wing form of physical therapy which Cas despises. After several failed attempts at professional help Dean is taught how to help Cas move the wing joint and how to put pressure on the wing in order to add resistance to his movements helping to strengthen the muscles. Cas wouldn’t let the physical therapy people touch his wing stalking out and then refusing to go. He consents to allowing Dean after a full night of sitting up and thinking about it. When Dean asks what the big deal is. Cas responds “It’s intimate.” And Dean thinks that maybe that is what they are becoming. Intimate.

Cas goes back to his place. Of course he does. He lives there. Dean wanders around his loft that first night. Lost and lonelier than he ever thinks he was before. He never minded being on his own before. But now there is this ache in his chest. He feels stupid. Crawls into his bed for the first time in six weeks and is certain there will be no sleep tonight. Flopping over onto his stomach he heaves a sigh of frustration and on the inhale catches Cas’s scent on the pillow, in the sheets. He pulls the pillow to his chest and drifts off to sleep. For about four hours. There is this obnoxious noise at 3:00 a.m. banging. Dean yanks the door to his apartment open so hard he almost knocks himself over. Cas walks in like he owns the place.

“Dude?” Dean’s not getting his hopes up here but….

“Your bed is much more comfortable than mine.” And there is an angel in his bed before he can process what is happening.

Dean moves to the couch too confused to be irritated at the change in sleeping arrangements.

“Aren’t you coming?” This almost whispered request coming from his friend. Dean slides into his bed next to Cas and is almost asleep when he feels the weight of a wing drape over his body. It is so warm and comfortable that Dean doesn’t even mind that he wakes up the next morning with a mouth full of feathers.

By the third morning though he is getting pretty tired of it.

“Cas, what is the deal with your wings?”

The lack of response should have been his first clue that this was going to be an awkward conversation. But then again, Dean always was pretty dense when it came to that sort of thing.

“Seriously man, are you molting or something?”

Dean is aware the moment that joke falls flat on its face. His view of the TV is blocked by Cas’s abrupt insertion into his personal space blue eyes flashing wings shaking and turning over each other one tips out and knocks the lamp over with it thrashing and it take a moment to realize that Cas is speaking, quietly, intensely, to him.

“Do you think that’s funny? What do you know about my wings? You should show me some respect. I thought we are friends. Why are you mocking me? You have no idea what it’s like being alone. I hate these things. They are so hard to take care of. Impossible on my own. They itch and ache and never lay right. And now I have this one decrepit excuse for a wing that I can’t even fly. I wish they had cut the damn thing off.”

“SHUT UP. Just shut up! Don’t you ever say that.” Dean’s up and shoving Cas back until he trips on the coffee table and lands on his ass on top of it with Dean leaning down into his face.

“There is nothing wrong with your wings. So your right one is hurt, it’s getting better. I know and you know it too. It would be getting there faster if you would let me help you more but you won’t. I don’t understand what the big deal is. If you need help with your wings you could just ask me. I’m your friend. I would help you. That’s what friends do.”

There is this moment where Dean thinks this might be the end of the first really important relationship in his life. Cas’s eyes flash anger and fear at him, his wings sweep up in the air hovering like he wants to fly away. Then it’s over, the moment passes. His wings droop down to the floor and his shoulders sink. Cas lowers his eyes to the floor. If he weren’t gripping the coffee table so hard that the wood was creaking Dean would think he looked pretty calm.

“Dean. I’m sorry. For an angel our wings are representations of our grace. Touching them at all, much less grooming them is something that is only done with family members.   Mothers, fathers, siblings, husbands, wives. It’s private. I have tried to keep them groomed on my own but it’s complicated and while living with you I never had the time to try because there’s no space. I haven’t had anyone to help me groom my wings since Gabriel died. I didn’t mean to offend you.”

Dean drops back onto the couch. Leaning forward trying to get Cas to look him in the eye. When he finally does Dean sees pain and longing and he wants to reach out and hold his friend.

“Cas, you are part of my family. You’re one of the people I am closest to in the world. If you want me to help you with your wings or you want me to leave so you can have some privacy all you have to do is ask.”

He doesn’t get an answer until much later that night. Halfway through Terminator II Cas whispers “please.”

It turns out you need a lot of stuff to clean wings. They end up in the kitchen because there is no room in the bathroom. Dean has a walk in shower that could fit two. Cas has been squeezing himself in and out of it while he stays here but it won’t work for getting to the underside of his wings. So they cover the floor with towels and Cas leans against the counter while he shows Dean how to spread his feathers apart and clean them. Dean is struck by how complicated this is how much work this is going to be. Cas was right. This is something personal. Being allowed this close to his friend is a gift. Dean’s hands shake and his stomach is in knots. He is overwhelmed by how big this is and for a moment wants to run. He’s so afraid of fucking this up.

There is silence and it takes Dean a minute to realize Cas has finally stopped talking. Maybe he’s nervous too because Cas is not much of a talker and he has been going on about feathers and different types of cleaners and there level of effectiveness for ten minutes. Which would have been very informative but all they have is dish soap but at least, Dean thinks, it might help get the grease stains out.

“So, I guess we should start with the left one. My right wing is still more sensitive.” Cas stretches his wing out hesitantly. His eyes focused on the floor to the right of Dean’s feet. Dean feels like he is going to vomit for a second but when his hands touch Cas’s wing and he feels it tremble he immediately calms. Cas is nervous too and this is so much bigger for him. Dean gives his wing a gentle squeeze hoping to reassure him and then gets to work.

It takes the good part of a half hour to clean the underside of Cas’s left wing. Dean spends several minutes trying to dig the grease stains out of his feathers. He’s horrified the first time one of the feathers comes out in his hand but Cas just gives this breathy gasp of a laugh “It’s normal. They haven’t been looked after properly for a while. Many of them may come out.” Dean has a pile of feathers on the ground beside him by the time he is halfway through the right wing. It is tough going on that side. Cas gasps and twitches while Dean works. Sometimes having to take deep breathes in and out through his nose while Dean tries to clean near where the break was. Dean starts humming mindlessly hoping to distract him. When they are finished Cas is leaning heavily on the counter, covered in a sheen of sweat. He looks shaky and pale.

“Thank you, Dean.” His breath shudders out and Dean reaches out to grab his shoulder scared for a minute that he might just fall over. Cas leans forward into him. His head resting on Deans shoulder and takes a long deep breath. Dean wraps his arm around Cas and turns to nuzzle into his hair feeling whole and content. “So what now?” He says followed by an internal monologue of Don’t fuck this up. God please don’t let me fuck this up.

“They need to dry and then I will need to oil them.” Cas pulls away from him slowly. Like he would rather stay than go. Dean is tempted to drag him back for another hug but then he has a thought.

“Dude, I don’t think I have any oil. I don’t cook or anything.” Real smooth Jackass Because he thinks he may have just assumed Cas was into baking products.

“I don’t need any, Dean. Don’t worry about it.” And that is a loaded response. Because Cas doesn’t have much stuff here. Just a couple of changes of clothes and a very small personal bag full of shower stuff. He must see Dean’s look because his face is turning three shades of pink and he tells the refrigerator with a calm authority. “I have oil glands at the base of each wing. I just need to spread it over the feathers.” There is a pause and an eye roll. Then “go ahead and say it.”

“So you’re self lubricating?” and Dean can’t help it. The laugh bubbles up out of him from out of nowhere and he is gasping and crying with the total weirdness of the situation. Cas pulls himself up to his full height and for the first time EVER he looks like a real angel. Aloof and removed down his nose at Dean. “Bitch.” He says then stalks out into the living area to flop on the couch.

When Dean pulls himself together he follows him. “Jerk.” He says back and nudges Cas with his elbow when he gets no response he shoves hard. On the third try he shoves and brings his foot out to push Cas’s legs off the coffee table and the next thing he knows he is on the floor with and angel on his back tickling him for all he is worth. Dean totally does NOT scream like a girl. He does feel a small sense of victory after manages to at least turn over because Fuck Cas is heavy.   But it feels so good to laugh. Cas flops on top of him boneless and warm. Who knew he was so ticklish. Dean reaches up runs his fingers through the feathers on both wings. He feels Cas tense for a moment then stretch his wings out to give Dean more access.

“They feel dry to me. Do you want me to leave for a while? I could give you some privacy. Or, you know, if you needed me to, I could help.”

“You wouldn’t mind?” Mind? Me mind touching you? Why the hell would I mind that!

“No. If you need my help. I’m fine with it.” Dean is trying to ignore the ache in his pants and hoping Cas gets up off of him before he shifts too far to the left and finds out how much Dean really doesn’t mind.

They move to the bed needing more space and the kitchen is a wreck. Cas sits with is back to Dean and stretches his left wing back as far as he can. “There is an oil gland at the base of my wing where the wing joint is. Put your hand on the top of the joint and slowly drag it about halfway down until you feel a lump about the size of a quarter.”

Dean reaches out and runs his hand down the joint. Trying to be clinical but all he is focused on is the feel of where the feathers give way to warm soft skin and the way the muscles move and shift under Cas’s skin. He almost misses the gland and probably would have if Cas hadn’t gasped the second he touched it. “There. Right there.” And maybe he is imagining that Cas’s voice sounds strained. “You need to express the oil from the gland onto your fingers.” It sounds gross. Because anything you express from a human is just yuck. But Dean take a breath and circles the tiny lump once before slowly pressing in. Cas makes a choked humming noise and Dean feels warmth on his fingertips. He pulls back with a sheen of wetness on his fingers. “Now start at the base and work your way to the tips to coat the feathers.” It takes a few tries and some gentle breathy instruction from Cas but Dean gets the idea and after a few minutes can actually see the progress they are making. Cas’s feathers untwisting and flattening out. Falling into a natural pattern that dean didn’t even know was there.

By the time he has finished one wing Cas is leaning over on his arms on the bed. He is moaning off and on quietly with his head bowed and eyes shut. “Dude. Are we having kinky angel sex and you just didn’t tell me?”

“Yes Dean. We are having kinky angel sex and I didn’t tell you. If you are really good I’ll even sleep in the wet spot.” Cas snorts and Dean busts out laughing again. Reaching up halfway through a chuckle to wipe at an itch on his nose. He feels something damp on his face and realizes he forgot his hands were covered in oil. But there is no smell so he shrugs it off and keeps working. By the time he is finished Cas has melted into the bed. They paused at one point for him to lie down before he fell over. Dean can only see half of his face from this angle but he looks peaceful and relaxed. His wings look amazing. They are shiny and though there are many feathers still out of place they look much improved over when they started.

“I guess this is more than just a one time deal, huh?” Dean is trying to sound casual. But the fact that he keeps petting and stroking the wings, the joints, and occasionally Cas’s back probably give away that he would be open for return visits.

“It would require several sessions to completely correct the level of neglect, yes. But I don’t want to impose.” The words float up slurred from the pillow.

“No problem, Cas. I don’t mind. Hey, move over. I am not doing all this work and then let you hog the bed.” Dean leans into Cas’s space wiping his hands on a towel by the bed when Cas jerks up. “What did you do to your face, Dean?” and Dean’s mind is blank until he remembers the oil on his nose. “It’s no big deal man I just had an itch. I’ll wipe it off. Lets go to bed. I’m tired.”

“Dean, you have to go shower. Now. You can’t sleep like that. Go wash it off.” Cas sounds agitated and defensive and Dean is pissed he just spent all night helping the guy relax to get yelled at. “Cas, what’s your problem? I’m tired. If you don’t like it you go sleep on the couch.” Dean isn’t expecting the slow drag of a hand through his hair down to his neck or the possessive tug that Cas gives him to get him to turn his head and look.

“Dean, you need to wash the oil off. I was joking before but to leave it on, to mark yourself with it, that is part of kinky angel sex. It means I have a claim on you. That you belong with me. If you were an angel there is a ceremony.  But it’s close to marriage. This is a big deal. Not something you want. Not with me. Please, please go wash it off.”

They stare at each other in the dim room and Cas slowly slides his hand from Dean’s neck dragging his fingers across Dean’s nose where the oil is gently before dropping onto the bed. And if that gesture wasn’t enough to clue Dean in that Cas really didn’t want him to wash it off the single tear sliding out of his eye, quickly blinked away, was.

“Alright man, I’m going.” Dean stands in the bathroom for a long time with the shower running. Just looking at himself in the mirror. In the end he shuts off the water having never gotten in the shower, takes a deep breath, and head back out into the loft. Cas doesn’t comment on the fact that Dean is still covered in oil and Dean doesn’t comment on the fact that Cas’s face is still wet from the tears he must have shed while Dean was in the bathroom. They sleep.

The next morning when he wakes up Dean is alone. He slams his way into the bathroom not able to look himself in the eye and by the time he slams himself back out again he skids to halt to find Cas fully dressed in a t-shirt and blue jeans sitting in the bed with a tray, two cups of coffee and a brown bag of something from the coffee shop down the street. “I wanted to make you breakfast to thank you for everything. But I don’t cook. So I cleaned up and went out to get stuff to bring you breakfast in bed. You were already up when I got back.” Cas looks nervous and glorious. His wings stretched out behind him in the morning sun. Dean is struck for the first time that his wings are reddish brown tapering down to gold near the tips. He’s breathless and frozen before Cas holds out his coffee to him and Dean limps to the bed settling down beside his friend to restart his day.

“Why are you limping?” Dean blushes under the scrutiny. “I kicked something in the bathroom.” He doesn’t look up so he misses the small smile curving around Cas’s lips.

Their days fall into a pattern. They go to work at the salvage yard and when they come home three nights a week Dean helps Cas through the physical therapy routine leaving them both aching and tired. On those nights he eases the last of the tension from Cas by grooming his wings. Easing out the tension collected there as he smoothes out the loose feathers. They never discuss the fact that Dean goes to sleep without showering. Instead waiting until in the morning but he doesn’t fail to notice that Cas is becoming more protective and possessive of him like there is a claim, a bond he can’t see. Other Angels, when he sees them take steps to give Dean a lot of space. Which is weird. He doesn’t care. Cas’s wing is getting stronger every week and Dean has fallen into a routine that offers security and contentment at every level of his life. He’s never been so happy.

He has Sam research better products for the care and cleaning of angels. The dish soap has got to go. Sam bitches at first but he always did like a challenge and after Dean assures him that is not even remotely sexual (Because it isn’t, they haven’t even kissed.) then Sam is all aboard and it takes him less than a week to email Dean a list of possibles to try. Dean vetoes the first two on smell alone. Too fruity. The third and sixth ones Cas crosses off out of cost. They buy numbers four and five. After some experimentation they settle on five and Cas sends Sam a thank you email gaining himself a new email buddy. As if his life could get better Dean thinks. His brother and his angel like each other.

Halfway through scrubbing grease off of the inside of Cas’s wing one night Dean slaps his hand into the water in the kitchen sink “Cas. We got to get a better apartment with a bigger bathroom. This is getting ridiculous. Can we get out of your lease and pool our money?”

“My lease ended two months ago.” And isn’t that enlightening.

“Where is your stuff?”

“It was a furnished apartment. I don’t have much. What’s not here is being stored at Bobby’s.”

Dean’s stunned. He looks at Cas and isn’t sure whether to shove him or laugh. And then

“I have my eye on this house down the road from the salvage yard. It has a garden tub and garage. I was thinking maybe you might want to go in with me. I’ve been saving my money. I should have enough for a down payment.” And that is how Dean Winchester ended up a home owner and the impala finally got the respect she deserved.

Things aren’t always great. Cas is moody, prone to periods of melancholy and Dean is an ass when he wants to be. They argue. Sometimes they don’t speak for a day. Dean or Cas will sometimes sleep in Sam’s room as they refer to the guest bedroom. As good as things are Dean feels this slow build of tension over the next month. He senses Cas shoving closer and then pulling away from him. The doctors finally clear Cas to try flying. Dean tries to be encouraging but it really only pisses Cas off until he slams down his soda one night and without another word takes off soaring. Dean is left standing in the dust of their backyard trying to reassure himself that Cas will come back. Of course he does. And hey, the angel can fly.

It all boils over early one Sunday morning when Dean wakes up curled around Cas in his sleep. Nothing new to either of them. They frequently wake up and go to sleep piled on top of each other. Dean’s hard and realizes he’s been rubbing himself against Cas for God only know how long in his sleep. He is so grateful that Cas is still sleeping. Sliding out of bed to the bathroom. Dean slips into the shower and under the hot water he leans against the wall and strokes himself one hand rubbing over his dick, squeezing and teasing the head. His other hand rubbing his own nipples and around his chest as he tilts his head back whispering “Cas.” He is just getting into a good rhythm when the bathroom door bangs open and the shower curtain gets jerked back. Dean’s horrified and naked. Cas is angry his wings are thrashing and his eyes are intense. Cas just stands there for a minute and Dean steps farther back in the tub thinking crazily for a moment about the odds he could run past Cas and out the door. When Cas finally says “I just want to know one thing. Are you ever planning on kissing me?” At Dean’s less than coherent response of “Uhh.”

“I am tired of waiting. What is it going to take with you? I move into your apartment, share your bed, consent to your offer of grooming, and buy a house with you. You touch me all the time, sleep curled around me, moan my name in your sleep and while you pleasure yourself. Not to mention that fact that by my culture you have anointed yourself as my mate. What am I doing wrong that keeps you from consummating our relationship?”

“Cas, um, I don’t really think I can talk about this right now.” Naked here and the water is getting cold.

Cas growls this deep gravelly noise and leans into the tub until his hair gets wet. Then he leans away and yanks the shower curtain off the rod before stalking back out of the bathroom. Dean has never been so turned on in his life.

Dean jumps out of the shower dries off and runs into the bedroom to throw on some pants. When he comes around the corner into the kitchen he finds Cas staring out the window into the yard.

“I’ve never been so happy as I am with you. You’re the first best friend I have ever had. I don’t know when I started to want you to be more than that, but I do. I want you. I’m not sure why I haven’t kissed you. It’s like I already do everyday. I haven’t wanted to fuck this up, Cas. I haven’t wanted you to leave or feel like you had to give me something you didn’t want to give. I’m not anything special. Just a guy with a GED who works on cars. But I’m loyal and dedicated, and I love you. I love you. I just love you.”

Cas turns to him and smiles this blinding smile that Dean has never seen on his face before. He catches Cas’s outstretched hand and allows himself to be pulled close inside Cas’s arms and surrounded by his wings.

“Mine.” Cas whispers into Dean’s skin.

And maybe he kisses him then. But I couldn’t see. The wings were in the way.