𝐀𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐋 𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐇𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐒 ☀︎ 𝗌𝗎𝗉𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗍𝗎𝗋𝖺𝗅

▁▁▁ 𝖼𝗁𝖺𝗉𝗍𝖾𝗋 1. ༊

Morning rose on the bleak city of Lebanon, Kansas. Birds sang, roosters crowed, and people began starting their day in a ritualistic fashion. A fashion no stranger to the family that lived in a bunker on the outskirts of town.

Sam, against many people's first impression, was not a morning person. He preferred to sleep in well into the morning when he could. His brother, Dean, was quite the opposite. "Early bird gets the worm" as he always said. The angel that found a home with these two brothers did not have such a routine when it came to sleep. He did not need sleep, that much was known, but that didn't mean he wasn't capable of it. He rather enjoyed the pleasure of it in fact. And drifting to sleep holding your lover was certainly one of them.

On this particular day, Dean had woken up earlier than his alarm clock was set at. "You awake?" He asked the angel that lay beside him. "I'm going to make breakfast, you want anything?" He asked again. With no reply, he relied on the intuition that once he returned Castiel would be waiting with an appetite and no memory of Dean asking.

Dean went to the kitchen and made up 2 equal plates of pancakes, eggs, and bacon. Even though he knew he'd be stealing Castiel's portion of bacon before he had the chance to say he didn't want it.

     Dean returned 20 minutes later, completely unfazed if not heart-warmed by the sight that would leave many people shaken and disturbed. Castiel was splayed out across the sheets, his wings open and unfurled. It was a habit they unconsciously found worked. Cas, who often woke to an empty bed, took the opportunity to stretch out his wings like any other limb that grew cramped if it stayed up too long. An angel, Dean learned, rarely unfurled their wings except to fly or fight. Like a human who dared not fall asleep in the presence of a wolf, an angel's wings were a vulnerable aspect of their identity they kept hidden when possible. Dean felt honored that Castiel felt safe with him. Words may not be either of their specialty but the actions said all they needed.

Dean moved to the left side of the bed nearest to the wall. The shoulder of his left wing, rested on the mattress creating a bridge while its primaries touched the wall. He ducked underneath and to the other side without spilling the plates of food he held.

"Cas, come on, wake up." With a hand now free he caressed down the base of Castiel's wing to where pure white downy feathers and pale skin met. Castiel shivered in response and hummed, his wing spasmed at the sensation. Dean loved how the smallest feathers stood up like hairs on your arm. "Wake up, you pigeon, I made breakfast." he urged again, this time gently shaking his shoulder. Castiel groaned in response and buried his face deeper in the pillows. Dean surrendered his attempts and instead contented himself to sit on the edge of the bed drawing shapes around the freckled skin of the man beside him.

     A gentle consistent thrum from Castiel left Dean forgetting all about breakfast and a smile on his face. The muscles around the base of his limb contracted whenever Dean's hand came close. A limb so little used except for war was grateful for the tender affections "T'snice" Castiel finally said under his breath.

     Dean leaned closer and pressed a tender kiss to Castiel's cheek. "I made pancakes," he whispered in his ear. Castiel didn't respond. "And I put blueberries in them," he added.

     Castiel rolled onto his side to face Dean with sleepy eyes. While one wing rested comfortably underneath his side, the other raised in the air matching the shape of his arms in a welcoming gesture. "Come back to bed, breakfast can wait." Dean caved in and relinquished any thought of a warm breakfast. He slipped off his boots and rolled onto his side, his back facing Castiel in a spooning position. He was gentle in the way he crawled on top of the wing beneath them. A gentleness that one would not expect from a man like himself. "You're not going to hurt me" Castiel reassured. Castiel wiggled out an arm to wrap across Dean's chest. Dean clung tightly to it, pressing tender kisses to the skin. Castiel reciprocated Dean's affections by nuzzling his face into the crevice of Dean's neck. Castiel's other wing encapsulated them both. Dean felt safe wrapped in the warm embrace that was his home.

It ends, as it started, with a righteous man wrapped tightly in the embrace of the angel who saved him.