Shared Wings

Ever since Cas had expressed deep disappointment about Dean not being able to experience his true form or hear his true voice, it had been weighing on Dean. Not because he was not enough, or faulty, or somehow not the Righteous Man Cas had always trusted him to be. It was more personal. Selfish. Greedy.

He wanted to see Cas in all his mighty glory, but there just wasn't any way to accomplish that, unless he wanted to have his eyes blackened and burnt out of their sockets. The thought alone made him shiver. He valued his eyesight pretty highly. It had saved him from many a trouble, and Dean would preferably continue to keep his peepers intact, thank you very much.

But the yearning was still there; Dean may have Cas in his bed, as his lover, as his confidant, as his life partner, but that wasn't all of Cas. It was the human form, and the knowledge there was infinitely more to him was eating Dean alive in moments he forgot to not think so very deeply.

So the morning Dean woke up unreasonably warm with an unfamiliar weight on him, it was really something very hard to wrap his brain around. Confused, slowly, drowsily, not quite in the world of the conscious before coffee, Dean turned his face to look at Cas, the angel's features relaxed against the pillow, slumbering in his boxers, leg thrown over Dean's hip and arm and feathers flung over Dean.

Carefully, Dean inspected the situation, not really comprehending what he was seeing and feeling, but there were actual, black feathers covering Cas's shoulder, extending over to cover Dean's torso, which actually explained the cosy warmth.

Somehow, during the dead of night, Cas had sprouted wings .

Technically, Dean knew full well he'd always had them, like all angels did, but Dean had never seen an angel's wings unless they were scorched on the ground, or a mere intimidating shadow on a wall.

But Cas's wings were corporeal. These were real wings , soft wings, under which Dean was loath to get out from under, and reached out a gentle hand to smooth the feathers .

It was truly astonishing, the deep black colour shimmering even in the meagre light streaming from the vent on the door to their room, the way Dean's fingers glided over the feathers without any resistance at all. Like silk, like the smoothest satin imaginable.

Dean took in the sight of the wing as it drooped over Dean and the side of the bed, and spilled on the floor, the tips stopping just shy of the wall. These things were massive.

Suddenly Dean was wide awake. He was pretty, almost, maybe, sure that this wasn't a dream, and the morning-rough voice right next to him confirmed his suspicions; "I knew the day wouldn't be far now," Cas said as softly as his gravelly just-woken-up voice allowed, stretching his wing the best he could in the room too small for stretching, well... Huge wings.

Castiel covered over half of Dean's body again, down to his knees and looked Dean in the eye with solemnity and love. "You've been exposed to my grace for so long, it was bound to have this effect some time soon. It's not all that I am, but if you can see and touch my wings, one day you will be able to see the rest of me... If you'll have me."

Dean fanned his fingers and slid them between Cas's feathers carefully, afraid he might hurt Cas, and thought, astounded and hard about what Cas was offering.

There was such sincerity in Cas's words. Such an offer of something so grand it seemed immeasurable, and it was something that was going to be only for Dean. It left Dean speechless, mulling over the enormity of the situation, fingers playing with Cas's feathers a bit more, letting them slide between his fingers, and judging by the indulgent smile on Cas's face, it must've felt good for him too.