One thing Dean could never understand was how people could say they smelt thunder and lightning before a big storm. It just didn't make sense to him. Sure, he could feel it. It was a powerful force that lingered in the air, edging closer to a dangerous line. He felt something similar with some of the creatures he had come across in his thirty-odd years of hunting.
It all changed the night he met Castiel, freaking angel of the Lord in a barn in Pontiac, Illinois. When the Angel stepped inside, Dean could see the dark wings, struggling to stay within the confines of the structure. The darkness was contrasted against the blue bolts of electricity pulsing, spreading from Castiel's back to the tips of each feather.
As Castiel approached both him and Bobby, he could sense the power that lurked beneath the surface. As he thrust the demon blade into the blue-eyed vessel, Dean finally smelled it: the thunder and lightning others had talked about. Every hair on his body stood at attention. There was an unmistakable tension between them, but Dean was at a loss for words.
Cas watched from the corner of his eye as Dean looked away from the tumbling sky, a smile grazing his lips as he took a sip of his beer. "What is it, Dean?" he asked, shifting his eyes back to the sky.
"Just remembering when we met," he replied, smiling around the bottle.
"I seem to remember Bobby shooting me with a shotgun and you stabbed me," Cas spoke fondly.
"We did," Dean chuckled. "Never met anything like you before. I was terrified. It didn't help that it was either that or jump you, and I don't think Bobby would've appreciated that," Dean laughed.
"I wouldn't have known what to do," Cas told him as he furrowed his eyebrows.
"It's okay. I don't think I could have, really. I just knew there was something between us."
Cas grinned and leaned against the green-eyed man. "Our profound bond."
"Yeah, I could feel the power rolling off you. And then you stepped closer, and I could freaking smell you," Dean said the word like it was obscene. He wrapped an arm around the angel's shoulder and held him close.
"What did I smell like?" Cas asked, confused, as he turned his head to face the hunter.
Dean turned his head to Cas and smiled. "Like thunder and lightning, right before a storm. And your wings, Cas… They were—magnificent. Pitch black with bolts of blue, just screaming power. I could definitely understand why the angels in the Bible said, "fear not," because damn…"
Cas brought his hand up and gently stroked his thumb across Dean's freckles before Cas pulled him in for a kiss. He rolled his shoulders, and Dean immediately pulled Cas into his lap so the angel was straddling his lap. Cas groaned as he straightened his torso and released his usually hidden appendages.
"Feel better?" Dean asked, rubbing the angel's back, right between his shoulder blades and wings.
"Very much," Cas nodded. Dean curved his hand upward and began gently stroking Castiel's feathers, while his other hand traveled down his backside, bringing them closer.
"They're smaller than I remember," Dean teased, kissing the side of his neck.
"I don't use them as much as I used to," he replied, teleporting them to their room and pinning Dean to the bed in the process.
"This is a much better use, I think," Dean breathed as he shifted his hips upward.
Cas grinned mischievously and within a blink, their clothes were scattered across the room, leaving nothing between them as the rubbed against each other. He looked at the man under him, the stretch of muscles as he kept Dean's hands above his head. Dean's flushed skin was contrast to his freckles and various scars, his bright green eyes, and plump, reddened lips. A pink tongue came into view, and Cas suddenly couldn't help leaning down to taste his lover. Their lips fit together so perfectly, and Cas could taste a bit of Dean's beer and the pie he had eaten after dinner. Cas could feel Dean's battle-made muscles from too many fights and a little softer tissue from many less as of late.
Cas finally relented to Dean's constant squirming beneath him. He smiled and dipped his head to kiss along Dean's jaw and neck before whispering, "Do you want to know what I thought, Dean? When I first saw you?" He kissed and sucked Dean's neck and shoulder as he waited for a response.
"Yes, Cas," Dean moaned, bucking his hips again, seeking friction that Cas was denying him.
Cas released his hands and drug them down Dean's arms until it rested on the permanent scar on Dean's shoulder. "I thought you were the most beautiful creature I had ever seen. You soul in Hell—I knew when I first saw it that it wasn't supposed to be there. And then in that barn, when I saw you, it only shone brighter. You were absolutely magnificent," Cas said reverently. He had long since discovered how much Dean loved it when Cas praised him.
Dean felt a surge of love and desire shoot through him, and suddenly, Cas was on his back with Dean kissing every bit of skin he could reach. "Please, Cas," he moaned against Cas's neck. "I need you."
"How do you need me, Dean?" Cas asked, his gravelly voice sending shivers through Dean when Cas said his name like that.
"In—inside me," he whispered as a blush ran across his face, "Please."
Castiel scratched all down Dean's back, stopping when he reached his ass. Slowly, teasingly, he pushed a finger toward Dean's hole, only to find it already filled. Dean blinked when Cas's wide eyes caught his, surprised to feel something already there. "That's cheating, Dean," Cas growled as he pushed against the plug just to watch Dean dropped his head and moan loudly, his arms struggling to keep him up. He pulled it out slowly, allowing Dean to feel it all before he placed it on the nightstand. "How long?" Cas asked as he pushed a finger in, feeling the lube-slicked hole.
Dean's mind was hazy, unsure of what his lover had asked. "Huh?" he muttered.
Cas pushed another finger in and began scissoring, resulting in a loud moan from the hunter. "How long did you have it in?" he asked huskily.
"Before dinner," Dean whimpered, and Cas could see his skin going pink again.
Cas thought about dinner, just a few hours earlier. How Dean moved just a little more bow-legged than usual. How his cheeks would turn pink when he shifted in his seat. "Son of a bitch," he whispered, and quickly sat up and leaned against the headboard. Dean scrambled up and straddled Cas before sinking down without any warning. They moaned loudly in unison, and Dean slowly began moving. Cas latched his hands onto Dean's skin, moving from his hips to his shoulders to his back. He wrapped one hand around the back of Dean's neck and brought their mouths together for a bruising kiss. He twisted his fingers through Dean's hair, causing Dean to hold onto the headboard to keep his balance.
"Cas," Dean moaned as he pressed their foreheads together. "You feel so good, sweetheart."
Cas sucked along Dean's neck, chest, and shoulders, leaving love bites in his wake. "You like that, Dean? You like it when I fill you up?" he asked, roughly rubbing his hands down Dean's back and grabbed his ass as he thrust into him. "When I leave marks all over you?" He moved his right hand from Dean's backside to his left shoulder where the burn scar was.
"Yes, Cas," Dean said breathlessly, nodding against Cas's face. "I love it. I love everything you do to me. I love you…" he moaned, dropping his head to Cas's shoulder and followed his lead, kissing, biting, and sucking anywhere he could get his mouth.
"I love you, Dean. I've loved you since I saw you from heaven," Cas told him. "You're beautiful, Dean. Everything about you… feeling and see you wrapped around me… no idea what you do to me," he whispered. The warmth in his belly was spreading, and he knew he wouldn't last much longer.
"I'm so close, Cas," Dean managed to say, wrapping his hands around the base of Cas's wings and started stroking them.
"Dean!" Cas groaned, and wrapped his wings around their bodies and he used Dean's shoulders to keep him up. "Come for me, Dean," Cas murmured as his breath hit Dean's skin. Dean's body convulsed around him, and Cas followed him over the edge.
When Dean regained his grasp on reality, he realized they were both clean and Cas was leaning on his chest with his wings outstretched across them. Cas was idly tracing a pattern of freckles on Dean's stomach. "How long was I out?" Dean muttered, kissing the top of Cas's head.
"Just a few minutes," Cas replied, turning his head to give Dean a proper kiss.
"Mmm…" Dean muttered. They were quiet, and Dean could hear the rain pouring outside. "Storm finally hit."
"It started right after you passed out," Cas smiled as if he knew some secret that Dean didn't.
"What? Did you cause it?" Dean chuckled.
"Wouldn't be the first time," Cas grumbled.
"Hmm… Wait, what? Really?"
"Mmm hmm," Cas nodded. "A few thousand years ago, I may have inhabited a very influential individual. He was big. Hair everywhere. I had a rather...fierce… personality. The Norse called me "Hardhugadr." It's also how my brother Gabriel became Loki," he added nonchalantly.
"Wait, wait, wait… Are you telling me that you're Thor?" Dean asked, abruptly sitting up to stare at his angel.
"Possibly," Castiel shrugged, not meeting Dean's gaze.
"Well, that explains why you're the Angel of Thursday, you dork," Dean laughed. He tugged Cas toward him and kissed him as he wrapped his arms around his lover. "Can't believe my husband is Thor," Dean whispered with a chuckle.
"I haven't been Thor for a very long time, Dean."
"Yeah, but you started the legend. That explains the thunder and lightning—which I had no idea was such a turn-on for you," Dean teased.
Cas blushed. "It wasn't what you said. It was how you said it. With such reverence and awe and love…"
"I know what you mean," Dean nodded and held Castiel closer, nosing the short hairs near his ear. "I do love you, Cas. More than anything in the world," he said softly.
Castiel smiled and turned to face Dean once more. Blue eyes pierced through green ones, and Dean felt like Cas was staring into his soul as he said, "I love you, too, Dean."