The first thing Dean noticed when he woke up was that something warm was lying pressed up against the entire left side of his body, the pleasant heat of it seeping into his skin like liquid fire. The second thing was that something equally warm, yet incredibly soft, was splayed out over the rest of him.
When he blinked his eyes open, his vision immediately filled with an inky black that immediately had him snapping his head up, confused panic and a horrible sense of not knowing where he was rushing in. It was quickly chased away, however, by the soft touch of fingers against his upper arm, and a soothing caress to the inside of his head.
Give it a minute.
Castiel's voice was like a whisper within his mind and when Dean looked to the side, he was met with the calming, half lidded blue of the angel's eyes.
Oh.
The thought travelled through the bond before he even had the time to figure out how to make it do so, and Castiel closed his eyes with a contented sigh, the corner of his mouth twitching up into a smile. Dean could feel the other's amusement trickle throug the psychic link like a miniature waterfall and he blinked dumbly, his mind drowsily sorting through the memories of the past hours that the sensation of Castiel's consciousness moving against his sent rushing back.
I fell asleep, he grunted through the bond, and felt Castiel's mirth give way to silent confirmation.
You did.
Dean looked at his wrist, realizing too late that his watch was lying upstairs on the sink where he put it the night before.
What time is it? he grumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes.
Almost four in the afternoon, Castiel answered, causing Dean to squint in confusion.
I slept the entire day?
Your body needed the rest. Forming the bond took quite a toll on you.
Dean tried to sit up higher, but without much success. Slowly, he shifted his eyes from the male by his side, to the large, feather-clad limb that was draped heavily over their bodies like a giant comforter. Pointedly, he raised a brow at Castiel, which Castiel answered with a mental shrug.
You were cold, he explained simply. Dean's eyebrow shot up even higher as he slowly lifted the wing to reveal the spot where Castiel's arm was firmly circled around his waist. Castiel's eyes narrowed to give him a challenging look from underneath dark lashes.
"Let me remind you that you fell asleep while petting me like abnormally large cat. All your arguments are invalid."
"I did not—" Dean's protest was cut short by Castiel's memory of Dean himself, dozing off with his hands slowly stroking down the oil colored feathers, and Dean immediately shut his mouth again, trying his best to ignore the triumphant surge he got from his bedmate in return.
Not a word, he warned silently, and Castiel's mouth curled into a smirk.
Of course not .
Castiel slowly moved his hand down Dean's torso to trace nimble fingers over the jut of his hip, the angel's thumb swiping back and forth to just barely grace the edge of coarse pubic hair. Dean tried to suppress a shudder, but failed, when the mirth coming from the angel's mind quickly morphed into a more goal oriented interest.
I thought angels were supposed to be all about sexual abstinence? Dean teased. Castiel snorted, a flicker of disdain cutting through the angel's focus.
Those rules were man-made by the men of the clergy, he explained, the hand on Dean's hip dipping even further down. Heaven had nothing to do with them.
Yeah... I can see that... Dean licked his lips when Castiel's hand brushed against his dick, and he wasn't sure if the sudden wave of arousal he felt at that came from him or the angel at his side. His cock twitched expectantly beneath the touch nonetheless, and Dean sucked in a sharp intake of breath when Castiel's fingers began tracing the inside of his thigh.
Fuck, this had to be the strangest morning after he had ever experienced in his life. Not only was the naked person feeling him up a male angel, but also a male angel whom Dean currently shared a two-lane, mindreading connection with. At the moment he couldn't even decide if it was the sensation against his skin or his mind that was making his heart race and causing his blood to run hot in his veins
Of course, he had expected this entire day to be beyond awkward. Hell, he had counted on it, but instead, everything felt so laid back and normal, as if he had always woken up to rough, calloused hands roaming his body and low, gravelly words being whispered inside his head.
It was as if Castiel was the last piece of a puzzle that had been missing for ages, and now the image was finally complete, clear, and Dean found that there was absolutely nothing about this situation that made him feel uncomfortable, or even embarrassed.
So apparently he was gay for an angel. Damn it, at the moment he was technically married to an angel, and he knew that he should be freaking out about it, knew that freaking out had definitely been on the agenda less than twelve hours ago, but... right now he couldn't for the life of him remember why.
After all, since when had the prospects of morning sex and sleepy kisses ever been a reason to freak out?
He was ripped out of his building state of arousal, however, by a low buzzing originating from the floor on the other side of the room. Castiel's mind glowered annoyance at the sound when Dean's unspoken question was sourly answered that the interruption came from the cell phone residing inside Dean's jeans' pocket.
It's been doing that for almost an hour , the angel grumbled, the teasing flutter of his fingers never ceasing to move against Dean's skin.
"An hour ?" Dean asked incredulously, ignoring the disapproval of the angel's mind as he moved to regrettably untangle himself from the other's hands, legs and wings. The phone was his private one, and if that one was ringing he very much wanted to know why.
"It's only Bobby," Castiel objected as Dean stood up, pulled the sheet high around his waist and carefully padded through the chilly room – Cas had the natural body heat of a lit furnace, so it wasn't as if he'd need any covers anyway – carefully stepping over the broken glass on the floor until he could get a hold of his jeans and pull the buzzing cellphone out.
"The bigger reason to answer," he pointed out, just before flipping the cell open and bringing it to his ear. "Hi, Bobby," he greeted into the device, hearing Bobby snort loudly on the other side of the line in response.
"Well, look who finally decided to pick up. What the hell were you doing? I've been trying to get hold of you all day."
Dean ran a hand over his face, rubbing the last lingering traces of sleep out of his eyes.
"Yeah, I was sleeping, didn't hear the phone... So what's up? Where are you?"
"I'm just north of Sioux City, close to Elk Point heading up 29. I'll be in Sioux Falls in just over an hour."
"Oh, so you're coming home?" Dean sent a wide-eyed stare over his shoulder at Castiel and then at the chaos that used to be Bobby's guest room. "That's great."
"Don't sound so thrilled," Bobby grumbled. "I'm just calling to tell you that I'm stopping by the supermarket on the way to buy some food, since I take it the two of you haven't left the house all week. Got any idea what we might need?"
"Oh, uhm..." Dean awkwardly rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. "You better stock up on basically everything. The pantry's kind of... empty."
"Empty?" Bobby repeated slowly, and Dean pinched the bridge of his nose.
"Yeah, uh, long story. Just buy some more beer and something for dinner, and we'll fix the rest tomorrow."
We need more milk and diapers for Sam, Castiel informed him and Dean nodded, repeating the message into the phone.
"I'll get on it," Bobby confirmed. "So how are things with you? Sam's obviously still in need of diapers, and I take it you and Feathers are both alive?"
"We're good, Bobby," Dean assured him.
"Oh." Bobby seemed to mull the information over for a few seconds. "As in just good or... good? "
"I'm still breathing, aren't I?" Dean sighed. Really, he wasn't very keen on explaining how the thing between him and Cas had all gone down through the phone, or any other way for that matter. Luckily, Bobby seemed to accept his answer, his voice losing some of the roughness as he continued.
"I have to admit, boy," he admitted, "you sound a whole lot calmer than I thought you would."
"Well, you and me both." Dean muttered, ignoring the fact that Bobby had practically just admitted that he'd known this would happen.
"I see. Well, congratulations then, I guess," Bobby offered, and Dean swore that he could hear the other's smirk all the way through the phone.
"Yeah, thanks," he said, rolling his eyes to the ceiling.
"You're welcome," Bobby shot back. "I'll see you in about two hours. And I better not find any suspicious stains on my furniture when I get back!"
"Bobby!"
"You defiled an angel of the lord in my house; you have no right to be prude."
"Bite me."
"I'd rather not. Your new boyfriend is a scary fellow and I wouldn't want to make him jea—"
Dean hung up before the old geezer could finish the sentence.
"Bobby's coming home," he announced with a sigh, even though he knew that Castiel already was aware of this. "Looks like we have some work to do."
He turned around to give the angel a pointed look over his shoulder, swallowing down a rush of heat when he realized that the angel was lying still completely naked, defiantly sprawled out in the middle of the bed where Dean had left him, wings and hair lightly ruffled from not-really-sleep. Dean would have given anything to keep Bobby away from the house for just a few more hours, but sadly, they had some other, more pressing matters that needed to be taken care of.
"Like what?" the angel gruffed and Dean pointedly cleared his throat, throwing his arms out to the rest of the room as he gestured towards the broken glass and flapping drapes by the busted window.
"I don't think Bobby's gonna like coming home to this," he said and in return he received an annoyed pulse of grace as Castiel's wings indignantly puffed up.
"Why not?"
" Why not? " Dean choked out. "Cas, have you looked at this place? And correct me if I'm wrong, but the hallway outside looks very similar to this, doesn't it?"
"Maybe," Castiel answered sourly, but Dean caught a glimpse of the chaos when the angel's mind made a quick dip outside the room to evaluate the situation.
"Yeah, just like I thought," he smirked. Castiel glared at him. Dean ignored it.
"Now get your ass up and help me clean all this glass away," he ordered. "And we need to find something to cover up the window with until we can buy a ne—"
A loud chinking sound from behind him cut him off mid-sentence, and when he turned around, the glass was once again sitting firmly in its place in the window frame, the floor around his feet squeaky clean and glass free. The pitcher and its accompanying glass were standing peacefully on the bedside table, and on the mattress, Castiel was still glaring at him defiantly.
"Wow..." Dean blinked as he turned around on the spot, taken a bit off guard. "Well, that's convenient, " he commented.
"Undoubtedly," Castiel answered, "now, would you please get back here?"
"Did you fix the hallway too?" Dean pointed with his thumb at the door, and Castiel's consciousness immediately made some sort of evasive pull. Dean was about to go after it when a loud cling sounded from the left of the bed as the water filled pitcher cracked by the handle and water began trickling down onto the wooden surface of the table beneath it.
Castiel's eyes flickered uncertainty towards the container, and then back to Dean, and then down to the pillow at his side as Dean raised an amused eyebrow at him.
"Missed a spot?" he teased gently, and Castiel's wings pulled in tight against his back.
"Technically," he muttered.
"Yeah, nice try." Dean picked up the angel's clothing from the floor and tossed them at him. Cas caught them singlehandedly in the air with a huff.
"Now get up and I'll teach you how fix things the old fashioned human way."
I only need a minute, Castiel's mind objected sullenly with a flash of wounded pride. It was almost as heart wrenching as it was adorable.
Save it, hot wings, Dean said firmly. You're not fit to fight just yet.
Hot wings?
Castiel's annoyance got mixed with subtle confusion, and Dean felt a light flush creep up his neck.
Yeah... like... You know... Since the wings are spicy and you're— uh...
Castiel's head tilted to the side, frown deepening as the bond tightened with attention.
"Fried chicken?" he asked and Dean winced.
"No, not fried chick— if you're gonna pick my brain then would you at least do it right? "
Castiel let out a low huff and abandoned the bond in favor of sorting out the heap of clothing Dean had thrown his way, pulling at the garments one by one with twitchy movements accompanied by agitated flicker of his wings. A few feathers whirled up and landed on the white sheets like a silent, yet very apparent proof of the angel's disapproval.
Dean bent down to pull on his own boxers, and was just about to put on his jeans when a particularly hard shove against his mind made him abruptly straighten up, sending an amused glance at the angel on the bed.
Dude, are you sulking ? He let out a low chuckle and Castiel wings rose up defiantly. Something swatted at Dean's thoughts, like a mental thwack over the head.
"What?" Dean laughed. "It's not like there won't be time to, you know, later ."
When Castiel sent a half intrigued, half still-glaring look his way, Dean simply wiggled his eyebrows suggestively at him. It earned him another low snort, but the looming cloud that hovered over the bond seemed to clear up slightly.
"Hey," Dean made his way back to the bed and climbed in, walking on all fours over the tangled sheets until he could nudge his shoulder playfully against the angel's back. "It's just some glass and a few light bulbs. We'll be done in no time, even without angel mojo."
He sat up, moving in to snake his arm firmly around Castiel's still naked torso, hesitating for just a moment before leaning in to spread a pattern of feathery light kisses against the angel's neck until he felt the muscles beneath his hand relax, and heard the silent exhale of air fall from the angel's lips.
"C'mon..." he mouthed against the shell of the other's ear. "Sammy needs his lunch, and if Bobby starts yelling at us for thrashing his house we won't be able to catch a break for the rest of the night."
Castiel grumbled something deep down in his throat, tilting his head just a little to the side, allowing Dean's mouth better access. Dean could feel the light shudder that travelled through the bond when Dean took the invitation, breathing in the scent of heat and warm rain that lingered upon the angel's skin.
"Please?" he urged, bringing his second hand up to join the other, dragging loose fingers over Castiel's abs. The angel let out another sound that could have been a chuckle if it hadn't sounded so breathless.
"Your methods of persuasion are very contradictory..." he hummed and Dean chuckled silently against the small hairs at the base of Castiel's neck.
"Doesn't really matter, as long as they work."
Castiel slumped back even further, his head coming to a rest heavily upon Dean's shoulder with a sigh while Cas stared up at the ceiling as if it was to blame for his dilemma.
"Does the human way take long?" he muttered eventually.
"Not really," Dean mumbled, nuzzling closer to the angel's ear. "If we start now, we might even get a good forty minutes before Bobby gets home."
Castiel closed his eyes.
"Forty minutes sounds... reasonable," he decided and Dean nodded.
"One can do a lot in forty minutes," he agreed. This time, the sound that came out of the angel's mouth was most definitely a chuckle, and Dean answered it by giving the angel a final, firm kiss on the side of the neck, before straightening up.
"Alright, get your ass into gear." He gave Castiel a push, forcing the other to sit up straight before he moved away, returning to the task of getting dressed. "We've got mirror shards to pick out of the wall in Bobby's study."
Castiel groaned, but stood up from the bed nonetheless.
"The human way is infuriatingly tedious," he declared sourly as he pulled on his shirt, and Dean laughed, shaking his head.
"Sorry dude, but until your batteries are fully charged, it's the only game in town." He adjusted his t-shirt and then took three quick steps to the other side of the bed and pressed a swift, almost chaste kiss against the angel's lips with a grin.
"So stop whining and put your back into it."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Luckily, they didn't have to do much 'the human' way, given that Castiel was still capable of performing minor miracles as long as he did them one at a time, and allowed himself a few minutes of rest in between the tussles.
The hallway mirror had to be done in several turns, but it was soon puzzled back together. The small marks and scratches on Bobby's desk that had been caused by the explosion were quickly remedied, even though Dean suspected that a few more blemishes to the old thing wouldn't have made much of a difference.
Sam woke up from his still grace-induced sleep when Dean managed to locate the busted light bulb from the desk lamp with his foot. Once Dean stopped cursing and Sam stopped crying, Cas had healed the bleeding limb with a quick tap of his finger, along with a lingering touch to the inside of Dean's knee that caused a lopsided grin to form on the hunter's lips.
At first, Dean thought that it was a bit confusing to have Castiel's thoughts buzzing around inside his head. After a few hours, however, the chaotic storm of feelings, thoughts and conversations smoothed out into a soft, sort of glassy stream, where the different components layered themselves on top each other, making them easier to define.
Dean had been caught by surprise when he found that the new, enhanced bond did not only transmit Castiel's thoughts and feelings, but that it also conveyed all these things with the occasional burst of colors, images, and even flavors.
For example, the word 'friend" immediately conjured up the image of Sam reaching out his hand in greeting with an excited smile on his face. 'Home' seemed to be associated with dark leather and the metallic taste of exhaust fumes, while 'joy' was followed by the color green and the unmistakable smell of Dean's own shampoo.
When Dean pointed this out, Cas informed him that even though Dean's thoughts usually tasted like apple pie and hot coffee, they tasted hot and smoky and had the dark, golden color of whiskey when they made love. The information caused Dean's ears to glow red and his cheeks to burn hot with embarrassment at the angel's sentimental choice of words.
Why? Castiel asked, his back turned towards him while he arranged the books in Bobby's bookshelf on the other side of the room. That's what we did, after all.
It's just... calling it that makes it sound so... I don't know, cheesy. Dean objected, and Castiel's confusion immediately lit up the link between them.
What does cheese have to do with anything?
No, Cas, not cheese. Cheesy. As in stupid, or silly.
You prefer the term 'fucking' then. Castiel decided soberly, as if they were discussing their preference of food, and Dean shrugged, biting his lip while fiddling with the lid to one of Sammy's food jars.
Yeah, fucking, sleeping together, having sex, whatever. Making love is something—
Married people do? Castiel finished with a smile, and Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
Alright smarty-pants, you got me there. Why are we even discussing this, by the way? I can feel that you already know what I mean.
Curiosity, Castiel shrugged. Then he squinted, the tip of his finger running over the broken spine of an old, ragged book, immediately repairing it. I think I like that word as well, he concluded. Fucking.
You like the word fucking? Dean asked with a raised brow, finding the thought of a holy creature like an angel throwing around an expression like that highly contradictive.
Yes. Castiel turned to shoot him a dirty look over his shoulder. I like it, he added.
Dean's gut pulled tight with arousal when Cas followed the statement up by sending a warm, pulsating (and very graphic) request for them to engage in this type of activity again soon.
I've created a monster, Dean chuckled, shaking his head. Castiel snorted.
You make it sound like it's a bad thing?
Nah, Dean confessed. This is one monster I think I could get used to.
Castiel's mind flickered amusement at him and then pulled away to focus on repairing the broken desk light. Dean smiled as he poured the jar of puréed carrots into a bowl and fetched a spoon from the kitchen to feed Sam.
For once, Sammy actually ate his lunch without giving Dean a hard time about it, and then Dean spent a good thirty minutes walking around with the small child in his arms, attempting to make him go back to sleep while Castiel repaired the last cracks in the kitchen windows.
Apparently, from what Dean had been able to pluck out of the angel's head, the force released when grace merged is more than enough to level an entire neighbourhood to the ground. Even though the effect had been lessened by the fact that Dean had a soul and not actual grace, Dean suspected that Castiel had done a very good job holding a lot of the destruction back, just like he claimed.
"Talk about rocking someone's world, hey Sammy?" Dean mumbled. Sam's head lolled back to look up at him with wide, innocent eyes that made Dean feel like he was having a conversation with one of those bobble-head toys on the dashboard of a car.
"I guess I owe you a thank you for that," Dean added. "If you hadn't gone and gotten your large ass whopped by some monster-chick, none of this would have happened."
Sam's brow knotted together in a confused frown that made Dean's gut pang with recollection, remembering the puppy-dog look his brother used to throw at him when he wanted Dean to talk about his emotions. He sighed, thinking that oh, what the hell.
"Alright..." He cleared his throat, checking over his shoulder to make sure that Cas wasn't within earshot before turning back to his baby brother.
"I don't know how much you're going to remember from all of this later...Once you get back to your normal, gigantic self, I mean." He looked down at the child in his arms. "You know this angel-marriage-thing with me and Cas... I can only imagine that you're going to throw a big, moral hissy fit about it later, with the whole angel versus human deal."
He threw a quick glance into the kitchen at the angel in question, but Castiel's mind was still focused on the task of fixing the windows so Dean looked back at Sam, lowering his voice into a whisper.
"Just... I know how crazy it sounds, and believe me, a month ago I would have told myself to get a grip and snap out of it too, but – and God help me for saying this – I actually think this could work, you know?"
In his arms Sam made a low gurgling sound as one of those small hands came up to clutch at the sleeve of Dean's shirt, while the other took a turn into Sam's tiny baby mouth, eyes still as wide as before. Dean grimaced.
"Don't give me that look. How many other people do you know who gets to have an angel for a brother-in-law?"
Sam gave a high-pitched shriek and turned around, straining his neck to catch a glimpse of Castiel inside the kitchen. Then he made a loud smacking noise with his tongue before turning back around with a happy gurgle, patting Dean excitedly on the shoulder and leaving small handprints of drool on his clothes.
"Couldn't have said it better myself." Dean agreed and Sam responded by burping loudly.
"Yeah, you're a real charmer." He walked up to the crib, putting his younger brother down. Sam immediately rolled over to his side and grabbed hold of his teddy bear, pulling it close and burying his face in it while Dean looked on, leaning his elbows against the wooden railing.
"It's kind of weird, you know," he said quietly. Sam's attention was immediately pulled from the toy in his hands to his older brother's face.
"Normally, when something like this happens – something good I mean – I'd freak out. Because that's not know things work, not for us. We don't get to have nice things like family and friends and..." He trailed off, plucking a little with the cuff of his shirt, trying not to think about that he was about to confide himself to someone who hadn't even learnt how to digest a solid diet yet.
"But this thing..." he continued. "For the first time, I'm not worried, and that's... new. I mean, just think about it; how many times has Cas bounced back from all the stuff that's happened? Even when he died . It's like a freaking sign or something; like he's supposed to be here ..." Dean sighed, rubbing at his eyes. "I don't know, maybe I'm overthinking this. The whole grace-thing scrambling my brain... but that's what it feels like right now, and I'm cool with it, you know? I'm not saying that being married to an angel isn't something that's gonna give me the jeebies from time to time, but, fuck, I can deal with that. It's not like our lives were shaped to fit with the white picket fences and apple pies anyway..."
"Would you like a picket fence?"
Dean's heart almost came flying straight out of his chest when Castiel's voice sounded from right behind him. He whirled around, finding the angel standing less than a few feet away, his head curiously tilted to one side and a little smile playing at the corner of his mouth.
"Because I could make you one if it's of importance," he declared solemnly, the serious act completely ruined by the amused shiver of wings and bright mirth fluttering through the bond that followed the statement.
"Eavesdropping is usually considered rude, you know," Dean quipped and Castiel's wings gave another mirthful twitch.
"Eavesdropping is usually easier to avoid when one's not constantly connected to another's mind," the angel reminded politely. Dean rolled his eyes to the ceiling, muttering a few well-chosen words inside his head.
"And that's not a very nice thing to say," Castiel reprimanded and then added with a smirk, "Even though grandiose size of male genitalia is something you humans seem to consider a valuable feature."
"You know that's not what calling someone a 'huge dick' means right?" Dean asked and Castiel nodded.
"I picked up on that too, yes."
"Well..." Dean looked the angel up and down, taking a sauntering step forward. "I admit it's not a complete lie..." he mused. "Who would have known that was hiding underneath all those layers of clothes?" He underlined his words by grabbing hold of Castiel's belt loops, pulling the angel in closer.
Castiel followed obediently, leaning to the side when Dean moved in to nuzzle against his neck. Dean's stomach made a small flip when he heard the angel let out a soft sigh in response, the still sensational feeling of being allowed to have the other so close making him feel slightly lightheaded. Could he have this? Like, really have it and keep it?
Of course you can, Castiel whispered inside his head, and Dean's grip tightened around the other's body, as if he was afraid that Cas might pull away in spite of his words.
You really think so? he asked quietly, and Castiel's hand came up to brush soothingly against his arm.
I told you a long time ago that good things do happen. Castiel's nimble fingers moved up to run feathery light strokes up Dean's neck, and Dean shuddered, allowing Cas to tilt his head up and turn it so that he was looking directly into the angel's eyes.
And this is a good thing, Dean, Castiel continued. Whether you believe it or not.
Well, who can argue with that? Dean smiled.
Cas answered by pulling his chin down to plant a firm kiss on his lips, which Dean only needed half a second of stunned hesitation to reciprocate. Castiel's mind was open, moving against his like liquid, electrified silk, giving of the sensation very much like the one the angel's dark feathers had that very first time Dean had laid hand on them. It felt as if Castiel's lips were not only touching his mouth, but also his mind, his everything, and damn, Dean never wanted them to stop.
It was a very strange way of kissing, strange in Dean's opinion being the same as 'awesome as fuck', and the excitement that had been dormant ever since they left the bedroom returned with renewed force. He resolutely tore the hand on his chin away with a low growl accompanied by a possessive nip of teeth against the angel's lower lip. Castiel gasped and then moaned when Dean followed the action up by using his tongue to soothe the bruised flesh, taking advantage of the opening to slide it into his partner's mouth and ripping a startled groan from the angel's lungs.
Dean's hands kneaded Castiel's hips gently, pressing in closer and letting the angel feel the insistent swell of his growing erection as he rocked them together, one of his hands coming down to grope at the other's ass, putting even more insistent force into the kiss.
Castiel's hands suddenly came up to fist roughly at the front of Dean's shirt and Dean was once again reminded about who and what he was actually kissing when the angel spun him around. In two, very quick steps that may or may not have contained celestial magic, Castiel shoved him up against the nearest wall with a force that literally knocked the air out of his chest. Dean half expected to get his clothes cleanly ripped off of his body next, but to his combined relief and disappointment, Castiel simply leaned in and dropped his head down against his shoulder.
"As much as I appreciate this activity," Castiel panted, steadying his breath, "I'm afraid that we're going to mentally scar your brother within the next fifteen seconds if we do not contain ourselves."
Dean threw a look over the crest of the angel's wings and yes, Sam was indeed leaning against the railing of his crib, staring at them both as if they were the most fascinating and at the same time most horrifying thing he had ever seen. Dean groaned, allowing his head loll back and thump loudly against the wall.
"I'm sick of containing myself," he muttered. Castiel snorted at him.
"In all honesty, neither of us are doing a very good job on that," he remarked dryly.
"I guess not..." Dean tossed a dirty look at his brother. "Why do you have to be such a prude about everything?" he demanded. Sam's brow drew together momentarily, as if Dean was speaking a different language that he didn't understand, and Dean sighed, earning him a soft chuckle from the mouth pressing in against the side of his neck.
"There's no need to hurry, Dean." The angel took a step back. "Like you said, there's plenty of time."
Dean knew that Cas wasn't just talking about this, here, right now, or even today. He understood that, but he was still reluctant to let the other go. He also noted that Castiel still hadn't released his hold of Dean's clothes, as if the angel didn't really believe in his own words either.
"Yeah..." Dean mumbled. "There's plenty of time." He sighed again and dragged a tired hand over his face, dropping the subject along with his fading arousal. "We still haven't checked for damages upstairs have we?"
"Not yet," Castiel confessed. The light flutter of loss Dean felt when the angel's hands left his body was immediately soothed by the soft touch of grace Cas sent through the bond to compensate.
"Well," Dean sighed, "Bobby's gonna be home in less than an hour so... You head on upstairs and I'll come up once I'm sure Sam won't throw a complete fit if we leave him alone for a few minutes."
Castiel nodded and in a blink the spot in front of Dean was empty, quickly followed by the sound of footsteps being heard on the second floor above his head.
"It's one staircase, Cas!" Dean yelled after him, only slightly surprised that he could actually feel the bond turn smug before he had even finished his sentence.
"Fricking angels..." he muttered, walking over to the crib containing his still staring brother. "And thanks for the cock-block by the way," he added, "you plan on keeping that routine up when you become a real boy again?"
Sam gurgled something incoherent and casually flopped down onto his back, bringing the hand holding his teddy bear up to stuff the poor toy's ear into his mouth with a grin.
"Yeah, that's what I thought," Dean muttered. "Now, I'm gonna leave you down here for a little while. You think you can manage to stay out of trouble until I get back?"
Sammy gnawed a little on the teddy's ear, seemingly thinking the suggestion over, and then he made an enthusiastic little kick into the air with his legs and shook the bear around with a happy shriek.
"That's my boy," Dean grinned.
He turned around, already moving to follow Castiel upstairs, but something in the corner of his eye caught his attention. He stopped, going back to the spot where he and Cas had been just a minute ago. There, he slowly bent down and picked up five, glistening dark feathers from the floor.
Sam watched him intently from inside his crib. When Dean spun one of the feathers in between his fingers, the light sent reflecting spots of colors dancing around the room, causing Sam to giggle and do his little kick-dance again.
"Guess angel wings weren't made for rough sex, hey Sammy?" Dean grinned cockily. "Poor guy, I should go easier on him next time."
Having carefully placed the feathers on top of Bobby's bookshelf, Dean then gave Sam's head a quick ruffle before heading upstairs, taking the steps two at the time while feeling extremely satisfied with himself.
/\/\/\/\/\/\
They methodically went over the top floor together, room by room, Dean providing Cas with suggestive smirks and cocky comments about his own bedroom skills whenever they found another window, vase or floorboard with a crack in it.
"Next time, I'm stuffing that tie in your mouth," Dean chuckled while Castiel patched up the shattered mirror in the upstairs bathroom.
"I told you," Castiel gruffed, "that reaction was caused by the merge. It won't happen again."
"You sure about that?"
Castiel sent a reprimanding look his way, but Dean simply grinned and leaned against the doorframe.
"Dude, your orgasms blow out windows ," he pointed out. "Like literally . You can't expect me to just leave that alone."
"My expectations are not that high, I assure you," Castiel mumbled while he carefully traced the lines of the broken mirror with his finger, watching the cracks seal themselves together behind the digit as if they were never there. "Also, you seem to forget that since we are properly joined now, I can tell that your remarks are not as much meant as ridicule, but a modest way of saying that you approved of my reaction. So I'm afraid I cannot take your mockery seriously."
"Wow, way to shoot a guy down, Cas..." Dean grumbled, lowering his eyes to the floor, but as his gaze fell onto the worn tiles by his feet his eyebrows drew together in a scowl. He leaned down, sending the angel a worried look.
What? Castiel asked without even turning away from his task, but then he groaned, reaching up to place the tip of his fingers against his temple. Slower, Dean, you're screaming.
You damn right, I'm screaming! What the hell is this?
Castiel turned around, coming face to face with Dean, who was glaring him down. The bond was still swimming with echoes of the words just spoken through it, along with a rush of emotions ranging from worry, to fear, to anger, all jumbled into a flurry of confusion. Castiel was about to open his mouth to ask what was wrong when he noticed the object Dean was holding up, and the frown on his face instantly smoothed out when he saw what it was.
Oh.
"That's all you can say?" Dean snarled. " Oh? They're all over the fucking floor, Cas, look!"
Castiel glanced down and sure enough, in a neat little circle around his feet there was now a dozen of shimmering dark feathers, another one falling down to join its fallen siblings on the floor beneath Dean's accusing finger.
"You keep telling me that you're good and that you're getting your strength back, but how do you explain this? "
"Dean," Castiel sighed, "it's not what you think."
"Really?" Dean snapped. "Because I found more of these laying around downstairs, just after you used your mojo to teleport yourself up here, and now when you're fixing the mirror you lose even more? How is that not related?"
Castiel sighed, his wings stretching out to the side and causing more feathers to rustle to the floor.
"My wings are a physical manifestation of my grace, you know this already," he started.
"Yeah, they are," Dean agreed, "and right now they're falling apart!"
"No, Dean, they're—"
"For Christ's sake, Cas, what's wrong with you?"
"I've told you, nothing's wrong , I'm just—" With a frustrated sound, Castiel reached back and buried his hand into his left wing, yanking out a fistful of quills with such force it made Dean cringe inwardly. The angel himself, however, didn't even flinch. Instead he held out the glistening feathers towards Dean, who took them in silence, feeling the silken touch tickle the palm of his hand.
"In their true form, an angel's wings are like a personal résumé," Castiel said calmly. "It tells other angels everything there is to know about one another. Their rank, their powers and their... social status." Castiel sighed tiredly, shifting his weight from one foot to the other. "Dean, are you familiar with the Green Headed Tanager?"
Dean blinked.
"What the hell is a tanager?"
"It's a bird."
Dean's mind was suddenly filled with the viral image of a bird; small like a sparrow, but with the most luminous, multicolored feathers Dean had ever seen except in cartoon movies. Nevertheless, the undertone of the image Castiel sent him made it very clear that this was indeed a real, living creature.
"It lives in Brazil," the angel continued as the bird in Dean's head continued to skip between green branches. "It's recognized by the colorful plumage they grow during mating season. Once mated, however, the Tanager birds shed their colors and grow another, less eye-catching one."
The moving image of the tanager inside Dean's head suddenly shifted, the bright plumage slowly fading into a grey, greenish, dull color that made the once so beautiful bird look downright boring. When Dean sent Castiel the question of why he was being given an ornithology class, Castiel's eyes flickered towards the floor and the feathers lying there.
"When I manifested my wings here in the physical plane, I had not yet taken a mate. Now that you and I have bonded, my grace is... changing, causing my corporal plumage to change with it."
Dean took a moment to think this information through, and with a little guidance from the feelings vibrating through the psychic link, the tension in his jaw slowly ebbed out and his eyes widened.
"You're molting ?" he asked incredulously, and Castiel actually looked a bit embarrassed by the word.
"Technically speaking," he grumbled and Dean inclined his head, seeking eye contact.
"Because you're, like, taking yourself off the Angel Speed Dating Market?" he prompted.
"Yes." Castiel sent a glance over his shoulder and beat his wings once, sending a whirl of feathers exploding into the air. "Though I have to admit, it causes a bit of a mess..." he sighed, straightening up. "I suppose it was unavoidable."
Dean looked up, feeling the bond pull slightly when Castiel's grace focused away from him, building steadily.
"Cas...?" he asked, a hint of the angel's intentions flickering through the link. "Cas, what are you doing?"
The growing force stilled and Castiel looked at Dean, seemingly surprised at the reluctance he found in the human's head.
"These wings have served their purpose," Castiel explained. "I'm returning my body into its original, human state."
Dean stared at the wings rising over the angel's head, following the dark arches up and then down to where the large primary feathers were almost brushing against the floor. From there, he looked down at the smaller feathers still residing in his hand, feeling his chest clench tight at the sight of them.
The lilac and green hues were glistening up at him, reflecting the weak light from the lamp above the mirror, and he recalled how they had glistened like oil on water the first time he had laid eyes on them, remembered the dry whisper they had made when Castiel had first spread them out in that creaky, old motel room.
It felt like ages ago, and yet less than a week had passed since the angel had first brought them both to their knees in Bobby's study, the feathers now residing in Dean's hand spreading prisms of color over the dark walls. Back when the shock of finding out the angel's true feelings for him had still wrecked havoc through Dean's system...
Dean let his thumb slowly slide over the velvet in his hand, watching the fibres stretch and expand from the pressure. Spreading, but never breaking.
"These new feathers of yours..." he mumbled. "Will they be... different?"
Castiel looked at him, and Dean felt the silken touch of the other's mind brush against his own, a flicker of confusion sparking at the contact.
"They will take on a less... flamboyant visage, yes. " The angel canted his head, seeking out Dean's eyes. "They're still the same wings, Dean."
"I know, it's just..."
Again, he felt Castiel's consciousness move in to touch his, but this time Dean moved away.
It was stupid, he knew it was. Of course the wings would still be the same, they would still be Castiel , but he didn't like the thought of the angel changing, even though the change was a completely natural, positive thing for Cas to undertake. He just wanted to keep Castiel the way he was, and it was silly and childish, and he knew that it wouldn't change anything between the two of them, but still... if he could just—
"What will they look like?" he asked. "I mean for real, in, you know, Heaven?"
Castiel shook his head slowly, a flicker of hesitation flashing through the bond.
"It's hard to explain..." he said. "They're more of a feeling than they are a visual impression. For example a person's individual paradise is based upon a feeling; a sentiment, as is everything in Heaven... but I suppose..." He straightened up. "Close your eyes," he ordered and Dean obediently complied, feeling a chill rush up his spine when the force of Castiel's grace flared up like a beacon within his mind.
When Castiel's fingers ghosted against his forehead, the beacon exploded into a vision of an inky night sky, drizzled with stars and galaxies, moving and swirling as silver nebulas circled one another in a dance that lasted beyond the concept of time. Dean felt his heart fill with peace, an assurance that everything was okay, that things were going to be fine. Awed, he sucked a shaky breath down his lungs that felt like spring rain and tasted like summer sun, Castiel's grace moving in to caress his soul with a tenderness that made his very insides tremble.
Then, he felt the soft brush of lips against his cheek and he opened his eyes, realizing with a faint sensation of embarrassment that the angel was kissing away a tear running down the left side of his face.
"Is that...?" He cleared his throat, getting rid of the shivering that still lingered in his vocal chords. "Is that what they'll look like?"
"No." Castiel shook his head. "That is the best image I can provide using the capacity of human imagination. For you to face them directly, even with the enhanced senses of a mate, would without a doubt blind you forever."
"I can think of worse ways to go," Dean breathed, and in response the angel pulled back, head curiously tilted to the side, as if he was truly seeing Dean's face clearly for the first time.
"You are a remarkable man, Dean Winchester," he said softly. "I doubt that there is any other human on this planet who would take the prospect of being blinded by celestial powers with such ease... Less than a decade ago, people would have either declared you a saint or burned you on a stake for heresy."
"Shut up..." Dean muttered, feeling an embarrassed blush threaten to creep up his neck, the thought of him as a saint being both flattering and ridiculous at the same time. In turn, Castiel provided him with an equally ridiculously detailed image of him dressed in a robe with a halo circled around his head.
"Now that's just scary." Dean winced, swatting the image away before sighing dejectedly. "So, this whole molting thing... it ain't all that bad then?"
Castiel smiled, shaking his head softly.
"No, it's not," he assured him. Dean sighed again, plucking with the feathers in his hand.
"And what about these?" he asked, holding the feather's out. "If you send your wings back to Heaven, or whatever, will they disappear too?
"Not by default, no, but I'll make sure to not leave any of them lying around. I don't want to cause Bobby any inconvenience."
"Oh..." Dean shifted his weight from one foot to the other. "Because I was thinking... you know... if you're going to get rid of them anyway... I thought perhaps..."
Dean's words caught in his throat, the weight of Castiel's eyes upon him along with the searching intent of the angel's grace making it hard to focus on what he was trying to say. Then Cas crouched down and picked up the rest of the feathers lying on the floor before he stepped forward and placed them all in Dean's outstretched hand, gently bending Dean's fingers to clutch loosely around the quills.
"Keep them."
"No, no, I didn't mean—" Dean stuttered, but Castiel cut him off.
"I want you to have them," he insisted. "I believe you humans would refer to them as a 'wedding gift'."
"Oh...Uh... thanks..." This time Dean was definitely blushing; he could feel the burn on his ears growing hotter by the second. "I— I don't have anything for you, though," he tried, attempting to make it sound like a joke, but without succeeding much.
"Don't worry." Castiel's hand squeezed gently around Dean's fist before letting it go. "You're a resourceful man, I'm sure you'll figure something out."
Something flickered against Dean's mind as he said it; a warm, tender sensation that sent Dean's heart skipping inside his chest. He pulled the feathers closer, realizing with a sharp, regretful sting that the wings were actually going. That he would never be able to see them again, or touch them, or—
"Can I just...?" He reached out, dragging his hand loosely over the outer frame of the nearest wing, for his own sanity's sake trying to ignore the gentle sigh that came from Castiel at the contact before abruptly pulling the hand back again.
"Look at me," he snorted. "I'm a complete mess over here... Never thought I'd get sentimental over a pair of feather dusters."
Castiel smiled and opened his mouth to say something, but whatever it was got drowned out by the loud blaring of a car horn that came from outside, and Dean turned around, startled by the sudden sound.
"Looks like Bobby's back," Dean sighed. "You think you can fix the rest up here while I go outside and help—?"
It didn't hurt like he thought it would, the sight of Castiel; the plain, un-feathered Castiel. Somehow, it felt like a being reunited with an old friend, but it was strange, as if something important to him had suddenly gone missing. In a flutter of panic he grappled for the bond inside his head, letting out a relieved gush of breath when Castiel's mind met him halfway, psychic fingers curling around his in a gentle, but firm grip.
"I can bring them back, you know," Castiel said softly.
"Really?" Dean's head shot up. "Like whenever?"
"Yes." Cas nodded. "Whenever."
"Won't it hurt?" Dean asked, recalling how the original manifestation had seemingly caused the other a great deal of pain. "I mean, last time you looked like you were going to kill yourself," he added worriedly, making Castiel's lip twitch in amusement.
"It won't be a problem," Cas assured him before turning back to the mirror. "You better go help Bobby, he's not going to be happy when he finds out that one of the beer bottles broke in the back seat."
"When the what?" Dean asked, but the next second they both heard something sounding like a loud curse followed by the bang of a car door from the yard outside.
"The beer bottle," Castiel repeated, once again tracing his finger along the broken mirror in the frame above the sink. "I suggest you bring some paper towels with you, it made quite a mess."
/\/\/\/\/\/\
Dean expected there to be some sort of interrogation session performed once Bobby got home, but as it turned out, Bobby didn't want to know a thing about anything that had happened while he was away. He accepted the fact that there were no beddings in the couch with nothing more but a raised brow, and he made no comment on the apparent loss of Castiel's wings, though the initial look he sent the angel from the corner of his eye was quizzical and perhaps even a bit suspicious.
For obvious reasons, Castiel and Dean decided not to tell the man anything about their kitchen hump session, or that Cas accidentally blew Dean up, or the fact that they were now technically hitched – the latter being something they decided could wait for another day or two, at least until they knew Sam would be okay.
They were however forced to tell him why his pantry and all of his kitchen cupboards had suddenly gone empty. Bobby took the explanation rather calmly, with a healthy mix of horror and amusement, but when Dean explained why the vacuum cleaner was currently lying down by the garage, insides burnt to a crisp, Bobby started laughing so hard he had to sit down.
Dinner was simple – just a few steaks and some roasted potatoes that Cas volunteered to make for them – and as usual it all tasted delicious. Dean tried to make Cas have some of it for himself, but the angel politely declined, saying that he already knew what it tasted like and wasn't in need of any food. Dean didn't have the mental strength to argue with him, even though he made a valid point of smacking his lips loudly through the bond as he ate.
"So, let me see if I got the story right," Bobby said, pointing his fork at Castiel. "You got hit by some wacky monster-mojo, making you powerless." He shifted the fork to Dean, "This turns you into a walking, talking angel-first-aid-kit, but the only way to make the actual healing take off is for the two of you to, well, get off."
"Considerate choice of words, Bobby," Dean grumbled into his glass, but Bobby didn't grant him as much as a glance.
"So while the two of you struggle with the moral dilemmas of whether to screw the other, keep it in your pants, or stay alive, you manage to fix up five of my worst case cars out back, eat every single scrap of food in my kitchen, and send my deathtrap of a vacuum cleaner on its last voyage..."
"That sounds about right, yeah," Dean muttered and Bobby shrugged, returning his attention to the last piece of his steak.
"Well, at least you didn't tear the house down," he said, and on the other side of the table Dean and Castiel shared a quick, guilty thought through the bond without even lifting their eyes from the table.
After dinner, they all sat down in the study, making sure they had everything they needed to perform Sammy's ritual for the upcoming night. Castiel and Bobby went through Bobby's supplies of herbs and talismans, while Dean carried Sam around the room, humming various guitar riffs softly to the child in his arms.
This had so far been Castiel's job, but when Castiel had appeared downstairs with no wings, Sam had taken one look at him, made a disapproved, smacking noise in the back of his mouth. Then, with surprising accuracy, he had hauled a wooden toy horse at the angel, hitting him square in the chest with it. And who knew; even as a baby, Sam seemed to have mastered the trick of bitch-face no.9, looking at the two of them as if to ask why the hell they couldn't have kept the wings until he was big enough to get a proper look at them?
Apparently, ordinary, old, feather-less Cas wasn't as exciting to be around as the winged one.
Once Sam had been put down for his, hopefully, last night of sleeping in the crib, Bobby stretched, yawned, and declared that he was beat after driving all day and was going to bed.
"I take it the two of you are done fighting over the guestroom so... I'll see you tomorrow." He started walking towards the door, but stopped, turning back around with a reprimanding finger raised. "And I'm not even going to tell you to keep it quiet down here," he warned and when he only got two completely innocent looking faces in return from the two males sitting on the couch, he shook his head and disappeared up the staircase, muttering something about 'idjits' and 'should have bought earplugs'.
Dean glanced at Cas, who glanced back calmly and then Dean's face split into a wide grin.
You heard the man, Cas. Better keep those lungs in control.
Bite me, Dean.
Dean's brows shot up in surprise at the response, and Castiel rolled his eyes to the ceiling.
I'm inside your head, remember? I must say I find your vocabulary rather... colorful.
"You're going through my insults?" Dean asked incredulously.
"Amongst other things."
"Other things?" Dean slid a bit closer, his hand coming to a rest just above the angel's knee while his lips curled into a mischievous smirk. "Like what, for example?"
Castiel looked down at the hand on his leg, amusement slowly unfurling through the bond.
"Well, for example , I was trying to find out whether or not you had any plans on how to spend the rest of the evening." A quick glimpse of naked skin and the sensation of heat flashed through the link, the already apparent hint now obvious.
"Yeah?" Dean smirked, his hands moving even further up the thigh, relishing in the contradicting way Castiel did not move as much as a muscle, while the psychic link practically trembled with anticipation. "Find anything useful?"
Teasing fingers tip-toed their way higher, gracing against the seam of the angel's fly, and Castiel shuddered, eyes sliding shut.
"Yes."
"Good," Dean whispered, closing the distance by kissing the angel fully on the lips and cupping him through his slacks, making Cas moan loudly.
"Hey, shh..." Dean grinned, earning Castiel a teasing nip of teeth in return. "Bobby said quiet, remember?"
Castiel's eyes squinted open, giving him a glare, but they quickly fluttered shut once more when Dean applied more pressure with his hand and started kissing a sloppy trail down Castiel's neck.
"Dean..." Cas objected weakly, "Sam's still—"
"Sleeping like a baby," Dean assured him, already with his other hand snaking its way underneath Castiel's white shirt. "And if we just keep quiet, he's going to stay that way."
Dean knew he should be feeling guilty for initiating something like this while his sleeping baby brother was literally in the same room, but right now, he just wanted Cas , right there and right now, the bedroom feeling like miles away. If Sam indeed woke up, then Dean would not be above asking Castiel to wipe his memory later. He sent the message to the angel through the mind link, along with a slow swipe of his thumb across a peaked nipple. It only took Castiel's mind between two or three seconds of hesitation before his own hands got on with the program and began pulling at the hem of Dean's t-shirt.
It was fast, rough and dirty, all hands and mouths and hot breath as they scrambled to make room on the couch, buttons coming undone and clothes being pulled aside in a tangle of limbs. Eventually, Dean managed to get Castiel on his back, shoved up against the armrest, and he yanked the angel's dark slacks and boxers down to grab hold of the hard member underneath while swallowing Castiel's moan down with a wicked slide of his lips.
Castiel's dick was already moist at the tip and the skin quickly went slick when Dean began to pump it. He slowly eased his mouth down the rough stubbles of the angel's neck once more, leaving a glistening mess of saliva behind, feeling the angel's pulse race beneath the tip of his tongue. The top two buttons of Castiel's shirt popped free without much effort and then Dean began suckling at the edge of the angel's collar bone, grinding down against the cushions to take the edge off for himself.
Suddenly, there was a grip at the side of his jeans, lifting him up, and then – holy shit – Cas shoved his hand down the front of his pants. Dean's hips stuttered, his breath locking in his chest and fuck, this was not going to last long. If he had to be honest with himself, he had no interest in making it so either. He wanted , wanted right now, and shit, he needed to get his jeans unbuttoned and off before Cas brought this to a too fast and too embarrassing end.
As if he had heard him, Castiel's hand immediately pulled out and began fumbling with the zipper instead.
"Yeah, yeah, get them off me..." Dean rasped, not really caring that Cas was already a step ahead of him. When his dick finally sprung free from within his underwear and Castiel's fingers wrapped around him again, Dean buried his moan against the angel's shoulder, the sensation of Castiel's grace moving up and down his spine feeling like physical fingers on his body. Castiel's breath tickled his ear, the ragged sounds falling from the angel's lips making his gut tighten and causing his head to sear, but they were too loud, much too loud!
"Hold on," Dean groaned, "Just, hold on..."
He released his grip around the other's cock, even though the disapproval of Castiel's thoughts almost made him change his mind. The angel's protest was then quickly replaced by heavy objection when Dean grabbed hold of the blue silken tie hanging around Castiel's neck to hold it up to Castiel's lips like a gag.
Told you I was going to stuff this thing in your mouth, he grinned cockily. In response, he received a sour glare and a warning spark through the bond, but Dean ignored it.
I know kinky shit like this turns you on, Cas. Now, are you gonna take this like a good boy or do you want me to force you?
Like earlier that morning, that same something sparked deep behind those blue eyes when Dean sent the message through the link. This time, it was also accompanied by a pang of arousal so primal it almost had Dean slumping over right there, a close to pained groan making its way up his throat when the angel opened up his mouth and bit down across the tie with a challenging glare.
If you deem it necessary, Castiel shot back. Dean swore, if he didn't know any better, he'd say that Cas actually wanted Dean to make him lose control of himself right there on the sofa.
You just concentrate on staying quiet, he growled competitively. Then he scooted down the other's thighs and sank his mouth over the angel's erection, feeling Castiel's body lock up and hearing the startled moan echo through his head, before it even had the time to get muffled by the silk in Castiel's mouth.
Dean had never gone down on a guy before, but he had gotten the favor performed for himself enough times to know how to work the basics. Apparently, the basics were more than enough, going by the inhumanly strong hand that suddenly shot down to fist in the hair on top of Dean's head.
The taste of precum was salty and bitter in Dean's mouth, but not repulsive even though it was new and unfamiliar. The tang of it only lasted for a few seconds, before his own saliva had cleaned it away, leaving only the taste of warm, wet skin behind. Dean decided that if this was all the fuss of sucking dick was about, then he could definitely get used to it. Especially if Castiel kept being so receptive about the whole deal.
The makeshift gag may have kept the angel from making any unnecessary loud noises, but in turn, the bond was practically exploding with emotions and half broken sentences. Castiel's eyelids fluttered with each dip of Dean's head, and Dean swirled his tongue around the head of the erection in his mouth, lapping at the salty liquid that continued to seep from the slit. When he hollowed his cheeks and sucked, the hand Castiel wasn't using to grasp at Dean's hair shot up to clutch around the armrest of the couch, seemingly holding on for dear life as Dean continued to experiment with this new, surprisingly effective way of making the angel literally lose his mind.
You like that, Cas? he mused, grinning around the flesh in his mouth. Does it feel good?
Blue eyes peered open and locked onto his from underneath dark lashes, and Dean felt the grace against his mind shift, and—
The moan that ripped out of his throat was almost embarrassingly loud, and the vibrations it caused to travel down the angel's length reverbed along his own dick in a ripple of pure pleasure, Castiel's hips bucking up to meet it, and oh god, oh fuck...!
Even with his mouth stuffed full of fabric, Castiel actually had the nerve to look smug, and Dean tried to wipe the look off his face by mouthing light teeth just below the head of the other's erection. He immediately regretted the decision when white spots burst before his eyes at his own action, and he pulled off with a gasp when he realized what was going on.
Castiel, the little fucker , was using the bond to loop the sensations of Dean's actions back to Dean himself! He was technically making Dean give himself a blowjob, how was that even—?!
Don't think so much.
Even Castiel's thoughts sounded breathless; excited, as if the mere thought of what Dean was currently experiencing was nearly too much for him to take and keep his mind coherent at the same time. It was a sensation that had Dean quickly deciding that if he could come to terms with giving another guy a blowjob, then he sure as hell wasn't going to let himself be put off by giving one to himself.
Breathing in deeply through his nose, he slowly lowered his mouth down, tentatively lapping at the tip of the erection in his hand and shuddered when his own dick twitched between his legs in response. Oh, it felt good, it felt so, so good. There was no hesitation left after that, really, and Dean swallowed Castiel's (his) cock down as if it was the greatest reward he had ever been granted in his life.
His mouth was hot scorching heat, and his stubble rasped against the inside of his own thigh, making him quiver. The thought that all of it was what Castiel was currently feeling , that it was what Dean was making an angel of the lord experience, for the first time, made Dean want to take things even further, make it better .
In a spur of pure boldness, he relaxed his throat, attempting to take the erection even deeper, and how girls managed to do that and make it look so easy he would simply never know, but oh, holy shit, fuck, did it feel amazing!
His throat worked around Castiel's dick, around himself, and he knew that if he didn't pull off soon he would actually end up choking himself, but it felt so good, and Castiel was a quivering-breathing-harshly-through-his-nose-with-his-eyes-screwed-shut mess above him. He wanted to make it last, push it a little further, a little longer, wanted Cas to really lose it in so many ways that he could barely think straight.
He managed to swallow, somehow, he couldn't for the life of him remember how he did it, but as he did, he could feel a climax begin to claw its way up his spine. He couldn't even tell the difference if it was his own or Castiel's anymore, that's how connected they were. The question was quickly answered, however, when the angel suddenly bucked his hips again, flexing the fingers buried in Dean's hair, and nails scratching against his scalp with a desperation that made Dean's heart race.
Dean... You have to— Dean, I'm—!
Dean pulled off and nodded, because he knew, he knew. He quickly dragged himself up, bracing himself on one arm next to the angel's head while using his free hand to grab hold of them both. The heat of Castiel's cock pressed in against his own inside the tight circle of Dean's palm, forcing a silent wince to cross his lips as Dean rocked them together, precum mixing with the slick of his saliva, and they were close, so close, and Jesus fucking Christ—!
Castiel's suddenly lowered his hand down to clench around Dean's shoulder like a vice, his eyes mesmerized to the spot where Dean's hand jacked them both off, where Dean's cock was sliding up against his own, hard and wet. Dean could feel it, actually feel it inside his head when it happened; how the angel's orgasm shot up and burst from the stiff member in his hand, painting splatters all over the white dress shirt still covering Castiel's chest. The sight of it, the vision of Castiel's come dribbling down Dean's own hand and soiling them both was more than enough to tip Dean over the edge. Pleasure, intense and ravaging, washed over him, and his mouth fell open in a series of short, desperate gasps for air as his release came to add to the mess on the angel's clothing in white, hot streaks.
The next thing he knew, his arm gave out from underneath him and he came crashing down in between the angel and the backrest of the couch, just barely avoiding to land on top of the sticky mess below with a shaky breath. His chest heaved as he tried to gulp down as much air as he could without making any loud noises, the angel by his side in a very similar state.
For a few seconds, Dean just lay there, every muscle in his body tense and prepared to bolt right up from the couch at the first sign of movement from the floor above, but when no steps came stomping down the stairs, and no sound came floating up from the crib on the other side of the room, he relaxed. Letting out a long, relieved sigh against Castiel's shoulder, he slumped further down into the cushions, closing his eyes.
"Fuck, that was hot..." he panted, feeling Castiel's mind gather itself enough to focus on him once more as Cas allowed the tie to fall from his mouth.
"It was... surprisingly pleasant," he agreed, sounding close to detached. Had it not been for the hazy blank space of lingering pleasure that Dean found where the angel's normal thoughts should have been, he would have thought that the other was just being sarcastic.
"Yeah, it was a surprise alright," Dean chuckled, wiping his hand off on the angel's shoulder. When Castiel turned his head to frown down at the wet stain left behind, Dean just shrugged.
"C'mon, it's not like one more stain is gonna make a difference. I'll wash it for you tomorrow."
"No need," Castiel said simply. Dean's entire body made a violent jump when something that felt like a draft from Siberia rushed over his body, and when he looked down upon himself, his hands were clean and his dick neatly tucked back behind zipped jeans. An awed look later confirmed that Castiel's shirt had indeed also been cleaned, and that his dark slacks were once more back in their proper place, belt and all.
"Now, that's just cheating," Dean muttered. Castiel's brow furrowed at the comment, and Dean smirked. "Had I know you could do that, I would have made sure to make an even bigger mess out of you."
The angel closed his eyes and sighed, his lip twitching slightly.
"Perhaps some other time," he bartered.
Dean let out a low chuckle, shaking his head, and then he promptly shoved the angel off the couch. The expected heavy thump he had been expecting, however, remained absent. Instead, there was just a low flutter of wings and then Castiel was standing by the foot of the couch, looking at him with a brow raised.
"You didn't actually expect that to work, did you?" he asked skeptically.
"C'mon," Dean said sheepishly. "I had to try. "
"Then may I suggest that you make a new attempt when the bond doesn't give your intentions away beforehand. Secrets are hard to keep during the first twenty-four hours."
"Yeah," Dean snorted. "I noticed."
Castiel walked up, extending his hand. Dean took it, allowing the angel to drag him to his feet, and after a silent conversation involving whether or not they should make their new relationship undisputedly official by sleeping in the same bed, they decided that Bobby was more than likely expecting them to share the guestroom anyway. Together, they padded out of the study and down the corridor, where Castiel quietly closed the door behind them once they reached their sleeping quarters.
It was a strange thing to undress in front of each other, rather than by each other, now that the prospects of sex efficiently had been put out of the way. When Dean pulled his t-shirt over his head, he recalled that first night back at the motel, where the two of them had shared a bed for the first time, and once again, he marvelled over how things had changed.
Back then, undressing in front of Castiel had been awkward; those eerie blue eyes making him feel both calm and terrified all at the same time. Amused by the thought, he sent the memory through the link, like a sentimental anecdote, and he felt Castiel's mind gently close around the memory, turning it over to inspect it from every angle.
"You truly felt that uncomfortable undressing in front of me?" Castiel asked, sliding his own shirt off of his shoulders. Dean shrugged.
"Yeah," he confessed. "I mean, I hadn't really shared a bed with another guy before... even less a half naked guy."
"Strange, though..." Castiel mumbled.
"What is?"
"That you would find the thought of me seeing you in a state of undressed awkward. Especially since I had seen you naked before."
Dean almost tripped right out of his jeans.
What?!
The angel looked up, the belt of his slacks already hanging undone.
"Of course," he said, stepping out of the dark suit pants and folding them neatly over his arm. "I did pull you out of Hell, after all. Though, I have to admit, your body looks far better now than the first time I saw it."
Dean huffed loudly and quickly climbed in under the covers.
"I sure hope so," he grumbled. "The first time you saw it, I had been dead for six months."
"My sentiments exactly," Castiel agreed as he slid down next to Dean, his naked legs immediately sneaking in to tangle with Dean's own, before the angel had even settled fully against the pillows.
"Cas, you forgot the lights." Dean nodded towards the ceiling where the lamp was still shining brightly. Castiel looked up, following his gaze.
"Apologies," he said, and with a gracious flick of his wrist, the light switch by the door flipped, and the room went dark.
"Show off," Dean muttered, nestling deeper into the beddings.
"Thank you."
Dean heard and felt Castiel shift closer to him, and then there was a soft breath ghosting against his lips just before Castiel's mouth made contact with Dean's in a quick kiss.
"You should sleep," Castiel declared steadily, as if he had not just done the cheesy equivalent of kissing Dean good night. "Your body is still recovering from the merge and if you don't rest adequately, you are most likely to suffer a migraine tomorrow."
"Cas, I'm fine ," Dean objected, because he wasn't going to admit that having the other's mind slot up against his own felt very much like a cool hand on the forehead when you had a fever.
"You should sleep," the angel repeated softly. Two seconds later, Dean's eyelids slid closed, his breath evening out as his body went lax against the sheets. His head lolled over to rest heavily against Castiel's left shoulder while the angel's fingers moved in light, gentle circles through the short spikes of his hair, blue eyes studying him fondly. Lovingly.
I'll watch over you...