Let me be the wind under your wings

"New arrivals, huh, Castiel?"

It's the 23rd. of June, and two young men are standing bare-feeted in the green grass of their own garden, looking over their fence at houndreds of teens swarming towards a collection of huts, or simply said, a camp. These boys, Castiel as stated, and Lucifer, lives both in a huge house on the countryside in the state of Kansas, America.

Castiel, a dark haired, blue eyed, winged boy, looks up at his brother, Lucifer, who is smiling calmly down at him with his hand on his shoulder.

"Yes, it seems like that. Is Gabriel and Balthazar ready?" Castiel asks with a voice much darker than you'd expect from a young man like him.

"You know Gabriel. Allways procastinates to the point where he has to rush his ass off at the end." Lucifer huffs out a laugh. "Balthazar is reading, though I think." He gives Castiels shoulder a squeeze before he turns around, revealing his barn owl-like wings. "I'm gonna go make some breakfast before I wake up Anna and Michael, care to join me?"

Castiel sighs at his last look at the campsite. Camp Eagle. He himself just got out of that camp few years back. He gives his black eagle wings a good stretch along with the rest of his body releasing one of those unwilling morning moans we all know, before he turns around to follow his brother.

"All staff attendants! Follow me!"

Chaos is the best way to describe the outdoor plaza at Camp Eagle, at least thats what Dean Winchester thinks. His eyes flies to where the voice calls out wich seems to come out of a rednecks mouth who is waving for attention. He works his way through the crowd of winged freakin' teens almost standing atop of each other, trying to work thier way towards the teachers and staff, muttering excuses. He finally stumbles out of the crowd and manages to catch up with the small amount of young adults, as himself, following the redneck to a small cabin.

The man, who sports a mullet, stops infront of the enterance of the cabin and turns around facing the small mass infront of him some vinged, some horned, and some just like Dean. Hunters. He starts calling out names, and for every answer, he checks the out on the clipboard.

"Dean Winchester!" The man calls out. Dean lifts his head and nods. "I'm here!" A couple of people turn their heads and looks at him, wich he ignores. Checking names in these sort of get-together things are allways so awkward. People allways turn around to look at you, like you're some kind of murder.

The guy checks the last name on the list shortly after, and lifts his face to look at the crowd.

"The name's Ash. I'll be your guide the first few days so that you'll get the hang of it, bein' a employee at Camp Eagle." He speaks with a thick southern accent, like a proper redneck roadie hillbilly beerdrinker. "But, as you can see, I ain't got no wings. So for those who do have wings, please proceed to go to the right! Infront of the building, you'll meet a woman named Lillith." The crowd splits up, and Ash keeps on talking, but Dean fades out. He stuffs his hands in his pockets and kicks the dirt with his boots, not really following up what Ash is saying.

After a while, the rest of the poeple, who are all hunterhybrids as Dean himself, starts moving after Ash, probably going to show them around the campsite.

The blonde teen, Balthazar, is sitting on the couch, silently reading a tiny pocket book named "The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes v. 1." He peeks at his wristwatch and closes his book with an annoyed eyeroll. It's twelve thirty, and he and his brother, Gabriel, are late. "Gabriel!" He calls out, stuffing his book in the shoulderbag.

He stands up and grabs the backpack and heads for the door. He is wearing a grey sleeveless hoodie with a black elbow-lenght shirt underneath, simple denim pants and a pair of black converse.

Out of the bathroom, another teen stumbles out, pulling on a green shirt over a black tee. "I'm coming, I'm coming!" He mutters at Balthazar, who is standing ready at the door. "Yeah, you said that the last time I called too. Twenty minutes ago." He crosses his arms over his chest. "You're such a twat." Gabriel grabs his shoulderbag and walks over to his younger brother.

"We're leaving! Bye!" Gabriel calls out. Lucifer pokes his head out of one of the rooms and waves. "Take care, boys. Good bye!"

"Say bye to Michael and the others too from us, allright?" Balthazar says, as Gabriel is allready out of the door and halfway over the yard. Lucifer nods, and Balthazar closes the door behind him.

As they rush over the yard, Castiel spots them and runs after them. "Boys? Would you like me to walk you to the camp?" Gabriel gives him a smirk and nods. "Allright, sure. But be fast, big bro, we're allready running late."

The crowd of staff aplicants breaks up right after Ash has gone over the basics. Like, don't let the kids sneak out at night, or drink or smoke and all that usual stuff.

Dean decides to burn his free hours before dinner at five o'clock to explore the area. He spotted some nice houses from the bus on the way here. Like, huge houses, probably for rich people, or older people. Or rich old people.

He hears the whoosh of wings, and looks up, right in time to dodge three angels almost landing on him. Two of them starts running to the main hut, where the other kids are being told the rules, while the third of them, older than the others and dark haired, waves at them.

Dean raises his eyebrows at the stranger as he turns around.

"I apologise for almost running you over, Mr. -" Castiel reaches out his right hand, and Dean looks down at it. He grabs it firmly and shakes it. "Winchester. Dean Winchester."
"I'm Castiel Milton. And those two were my younger brothers, Gabriel and Balthazar."

Dean nods and lets go of his hand. He examines his face; Saphire blue eyes, a bit scruff on his chin and cheeks, nice cheekbones, pale lips and topped with dark brown, almost black, slightly curly and messy-as-fuck hair. He's rather handsome, in Deans opinion.

"I haven't seen you before," Castiel says. "Are you new staff?"

Dean nods and shoves his hands into his pockets. "Yeah. I needed a summer job, and my little brother told me about this place. He worked here last summer, as a cleaner. He ain't old enough to work in a position like me; watchin' out for the kids, so they don't sneak out at night and such."

"Ah." Castiel simply tilts his head at the taller boy, and Dean isn't sure what to say now.

"Would you like me to walk with you, Dean?" he asked out of the blue. It was kinda weird, thought Dean, but why the hell not. "Yeah, sure, man."

"So, you're all adopted?"

Castiel and Dean are sitting in the grass under the shade of a tree. The previous hours, they have been walking around, joking, talked about music, movies and all the basic, getting to know each other-stuff. They've been talking about Deans little brother, Sam, and even more about Castiels family.

"Well, not quite. Michael, Lucifer and Gabriel are related. Lucifer and Michael are two-egged twins, and Gabriel is their little brother. And me and Anna are also blood-related. But they're all family to me, and I call them all brothers and sisters." Castiel looks at Dean with a little smile.

For what seems to be the hundredth time this day, they kind of just stop talking and stare at each other. They don't need a long, on-going conversation to comunicate.

It's kind of hard for Castiel to not stare, though. Dean Winchester is one handsome devil, even for him, who barely ever finds anyone attractive. Short, neatly cutted dirtly blonde hair, moss green eyes, freckled cheeks, dark eyelashes and broad, firm shoulders completed with muscular arms. And those damn lips. Pink, all plush and model-like.

"But... What about Balthazar?" Dean suddenly asks. Castiel didn't mention him, and he raises an eyebrow. Castiel kinda snaps out of staring at him and blinks a few times.

"He is the youngest of us, and adopted from England. An orphan, he was, barely out of his diapers when his parents left him at the doorstep of a worn down orphanage in the outskirts of Surrey. We took him into our family as he were our own baby brother when he was seven years old." He huffs out a laughter and entwines his fingers with his elbows resting at each knee. Dean examines his face- a tiny wrinkle between his eyebrows, and his jaw is tightened. Maybe he is feeling uncomfortable with Dean asking all these questions.

The Miltons, he thinks. A huge family of late teens to early twenties, livin' in a huge house on the countryside right outside Lawrence, Kansas. They're all angels, adopted by some guy Castiel still ain't said nothing of. And speaking of angels... Lucifer, Michael, Gabriel, Balthazar and even Annael, but shortened to Anna... They're all named after real Angels, from like, religion and stuff. The archangels and you know, the ones from religion. It's all a bit weird.

Somehow, Dean gets more and more interested in this boy. Every time he speaks, licks his lips , cracks a weird joke, stretches his wings now and then, stares, and the way Dean stares back...