Author's Note: Hello lovelies! I am starting a new fanfic about Destiel. It contains wings and fluff and a lot of details, as I am forcing myself to write longer chapters. It is 1am so please don't hurt my feels: READ THIS! Enjoy!
The door opened and was quickly shut as a tall, green-eyed young adult entered the apartment. He was tired, his work being too stressful. Besides that, he had to cover his wings every day and act like it's something natural to let people put a hand on his back. In all his 23 years of life, he never though of something else than to protect his wings. Before his mother died, when he was only four years old, she had told him to be careful around other humans. They would try to catch him and make money out of him if they ever found out he had some black, smokey, feathery wings.
Back from his daydreaming, the man got rid of his coat, took his shirt off and got his special 'shampoo for wings', as he called it. The liquid was made of coconut milk, honey, water and basil leaves, all mixed until the result was a smooth, well-smelling balsam. He started applying it on his left wing, which caused him to start relaxing. He always enjoyed his weekly treatment. It kept his wings smooth and very colorful, even if they were black. The balsam gave them a shiny polish which made the man feel fresh and special.
After finishing his right wing, too, he sat on the couch, watching a football match, even if he didn't enjoy it, as other TV channels were broadcasting news. Dean Winchester hated news. They always seemed fake and cut-off in the editors' desire for everything to look angsty and dystopian. The channels never showed the good parts of the world and were concentrated on showing off. What if the world ever found out the truth about him? Would he be one of those 'scary' creatures? Would the world want him thrown in a cage or would they make experiences on him?
As that thought terrified him, Dean sat up and decided to stop the television. He made a coffee in a rush and with a flutter of wings he was back on the couch. He loved flying, although he could only fly short distances and when he was never seen by other people.
The time passed and the man went to bed, leaving another day behind.
Dean woke up at about ten a.m., terrified of his boss. He was late. He was fucking late. And everything was because of his iPhone. It didn't charge last night so he had 0% battery. Conclusion? Shut down phones don't ring alarm clocks. After a second thought, Dean decided to cease worrying and call his boss. Oh, right, if his phone was usable!
He just got off of bed and told himself he'll work it out. Instead of going to work, Dean went into the park. Well, at least he wanted to go there. He stopped by at his favourite café to buy some apple pie. He entered the room, his gaze falling on some random guy. Dean had to accept it, the guy was smoking hot-at least, from behind, as he was talking to the cashier-. The girl was making puppy eyes and clearly flirted with the man, but he seemed just not to care. Maybe he wasn't interested or he had a girlfriend. Dean took his chance and went straight to the girl.
"Hey, don't get me wrong, but I don't think he's interested. Maybe you should look for someone else."
The girl seemed to misunderstand Dean. "So, I guess I'll just have to flirt with you then?"
Dean chuckled. "Oh, no. You're not my type. But well, I see there a guy who's perfect for you. Go for it, tiger. Haha!"
The girl caught a glimpse of the man Dean was pointing at and she realized he was right. The guy really was stunning. And he was making eyes at her!"
"Thanks", she muttered. "Can I get you something else?"
"No, I'm fine. Just go and have some fun. You look like you really need it. "
The girl ignored his last sentence and left the cash machine, walking to that guy.
Dean and the hot stranger were left in silence until one of them spoke.
"Um, hey. Thanks for helping me with that girl. I'm not really very used to having girls look at me and I really don't know how to interact with them so.. Yeah, thanks again. My name's Castiel."
"Wow, really talkative, ain't you? Well, my name's Dean Winchester and I am very pleased to meet you. Maybe we should have a chat or something? It's not that easy to find people with angel names. And it's Thursday! It has to be something Holy there."
"How do you know of that? Most people don't even know Castiel is an angel name."
Dean smiled evilishly. "Let's just say that I might have a vast collection of angel lore at my home."
"I have never seen something like that before. I wonder how many books you've got."
Dean was struck by an idea. "I missed work today so if you don't have anything to do you can come and see it. I really love reading about angels and I might enjoy someone who likes them too. Uh-I mean enjoy someone's presence. "
Castiel laughed. "Okay then, where is your house? "
Dean offered to drive Castiel to his home. When they arrived, Dean invited him to take his trench coat off and sit on the couch.
"I will accept the couch offer but I will keep my coat. I have a very sensitive back. I'm not sure you understand what I mean but either way I won't take it off."
"Oh, dude. I think I comprehend you better than you would ever imagine. And it's okay, it was just a suggestion." Dean smirked.
"Well, let's get this party started."
About twenty books and a bunch of drawings of wings stood upon the table, waiting to be seen. Dean prepared tea as he told Castiel what he loved at angels.