A/N: I know I'm supposed to be working on other stuff, but I wrote this a while ago and I just wanted to post it.
Enjoy.
Falling
Dean immediately realized something was wrong the moment Castiel appeared in the Winchester's current abode; a shoddy motel with horrible taste in decoration, but surprisingly good showers.
The angel looked drawn and worn-out and a faint sheen of sweat was visible just above his brows. After appearing Castiel dropped himself on one of the rickety chairs by the grimy table, almost unceremoniously. It was a rather strange sight. It looked as if Castiel wanted to rest against the back of the chair, but he kept wincing and straightening his back.
"Cas?" Dean asked, panic welling inside of him at the sight of his angel looking so...weak. The hunter jumped up from his bed and loped to Cas's side. "Are you alright? What's going on?" Dean reached out.
Castiel flinched away from Dean's hand and Dean pulled it back, aggressively. A sharp feeling of rejection and hurt pulsed through him, before the hunter remembered himself and squashed the emotion down. Castiel seemed confused as he looked at Dean.
"Dean?" His voice dropped an octave and normally Dean would find the sound attractive, but it just indicated that something was really wrong. "What am I doing here?" He looked around the room, as if searching for something.
"What's going on, Cas? Are you hurt?" Dean repeated, becoming more worried by the second. His protective nature started to manifest as he lifted his hand to Castiel's forehead. It was scorching. Dean ran to the bathroom, grabbed a small towel and held it under a stream of cold water before heading back to Cas and lifting the damp material to the angel's face.
Dean had been uneasy about Castiel since the angel had started to exhibit some human tendencies. He would start to eat every now and then and he would sometimes drop off during Dr. Sexy M.D. marathons, resulting in Dean watching the angel sleep – to which the hunter would never confess to doing. Castiel had told the Winchester's not to worry, just that he was lacking a little grace ever since he was cut off from heaven.
Dean knew what that meant...the angel was falling and slowly turning human.
Dean snapped back to reality just as a moan bubbled from Cas's mouth. The angel's eyes were wheeling back into his skull and his face was ghostly white.
"Cas?" Dean shouted, trying to bring Cas's attention back to him. "Castiel?!"
Castiel's eyes seemed to find Dean for a split second, before the entire angel tilted forward dangerously and Dean found himself with an armful of unconscious angel. He lifted the other man into his arm and carried him to his bed. Once Dean had deposited the angel, he whipped his cellphone from his jean pocket and punched Sam's number into it in a violent manner. It rang three times.
"Dean?" Sam answered, seeming a little preoccupied. Dean could hear a lot of wind from Sam's end. "What is it? If you're trying to remind me that I need to get pie, I to-"
"No it's not that, Sammy." Dean interrupted, a lump in his throat. "It's Cas...Sam, I don't kn-" Dean's voice broke and tears started streaming down his cheeks. He looked at the angel, sprawled out on his bed and bit his lip. "Get to the hotel, okay?" Dean wanted to put the phone down, but Sam's yell stopped him before he could.
"Wait, Dean. I can't. I don't know if you've noticed, but there's a hell of a storm outside. I'm stranded at a little coffee shop and not even I want to attempt to drive in this."
Dean ran to the window and pulled the drapes back. It was indeed pouring outside and even as Dean watched, a lightning bolt flashed across the dark sky, illuminating the hotel parking lot. Dean cursed as he wiped his tears away and took a deep breath. "So that means the hospital is out." He muttered into the phone. "I don't know what to do, Sam. Cas popped up in our room and he's sick. He has a fever and he's really pale."
"Shit." Sam whispered, his tone worried. "Just keep him cool and get him to drink some liquids." Dean agreed and said goodbye before turning back to his angel. He knew he should stop referring to Castiel as his angel, because Cas was nobody's. Not even Dean's.
Dean walked to his bed and checked Cas's forehead again. He was even hotter than before. Dean looked at the angel's suit and trench coat attire and knew that it wasn't helping Castiel out one bit.
Dean's cheeks flushed as he started removing the trench coat, followed by Cas's shoes, socks, suit, tie and – unfortunately, or rather fortunately depending on who's point of view – his pants.
Dean found the sight of Castiel in only his boxers and white shirt weird, but the hunter had to admit that Cas had a nice body underneath all the clothing. He banished his taboo thoughts and grabbed the towel, draping it over Cas's forehead.
The next two hours found Dean sitting on Sam's bed and checking on Cas every now and then. He would replace the towel every fifteen minutes and the hunter was delighted that Castiel's fever seemed to die down after the first hour and a half. A half hour after that, Castiel suddenly sat upright in Dean's bed with a gasp that reverberated through the room and startled Dean.
"Cas!" He exclaimed, relief coursing through his body. He jumped off of his brother's bed and rushed to Castiel's side. "You okay?"
The angel looked much better than when he had arrived, but he was rolling his shoulders in a continuous move. He seemed incredibly uncomfortable.
"I am fine, Dean." His voice was back to its usual gravelly tone. The angel reached over his shoulders and started rubbing his wings – the human version, but Dean caught the movement and understanding washed over him.
"What's wrong with your wings, Cas?"
Castiel's eyes widened and he stared at Dean with an embarrassed smile. "Nothing ever gets by you Dean, does it? Yes, my wings seem...agitated. They brought me here on their own accord, because I believe they think you could care for me while my soul healed. They were right."
"Your soul had to heal? Why? How does your soul get damaged?" Dean was becoming more confused by the minute.
"Because I...uh..." Castiel dropped his eyes to the ground, startling Dean as Cas was usually a starer. "I have told you and Sam about falling and what that meant for an angel." Dean nodded, but Castiel didn't raise his eyes. "Well, the process takes several weeks and it seems that I have now officially fallen."
Dean stared, stunned. "But, I thought...we agreed that you weren't going to fall. What happened?"
But Castiel didn't seem to be listening, the angel was scratching at his back again and his breathing was labored. "I can't keep them in." Castiel muttered, frustration evident in his voice. He looked up at Dean with another embarrassed smile. "Would you mind if I let them out?"
Dean wasn't sure if he could ever be more surprised than he was now. He wasn't aware that Cas's wings could manifest on earth. He had always thought that the brief glimpse he had caught of their shadows in the barn at Bobby's was the only time he would ever witness the wings. "S-sure." He stuttered out, feeling an excited trill in his stomach.
Castiel screwed his eyes shut and instead of the smooth glide Dean had been expecting, the wings suddenly poofed into existence, complete with a black cloud of feathers.
The wings spread across the room and even with taking up all the space, Castiel had to furl the tips so that they weren't cramped into the corner.
Dean had been expecting completely white wings and he blamed the cartoons he had watched as a child. The wings did start out a startling white, but become duller and grayer until they started turning black and the ends of the wings were the most beautiful color - a black-as-sin pigmentation that had an undercurrent of other colors.
"Wow." Dean whispered, taking in the wings with awe. When the hunter turned back to Castiel, the angel had a frown on his face and he was stroking the black feathers. "What is it, Cas?" Dean asked.
Castiel plucked a feather from the black part and held it between his forefinger and thumb so that he can study it. "My wings were white, Dean." He muttered, twirling the down in between his fingers. "I've never had black feathers."
Both stared at the dark plumes with a mixture of apprehension and fascination. Dean had to restrain himself from grabbing a handful of the gorgeous feathers.
"Maybe," he started, still staring. "Maybe, it was the fall. It turned them black."
Castiel seemed to be considering the possibility and after a moment he nodded.
"Yes, that must be it." Castiel looked down and flushed as he became aware of his state of undress. His white shirt had ripped open when the wings had appeared and one of the sides was slipping off of his shoulders. Dean couldn't help but look at Castiel's collarbones jutting out beautifully.
"You can take that off." Dean blurted out before his head could catch up on what he was saying. "Just to...uh...be more comfortable...you know."
Castiel stared at Dean and the hunter felt himself drowning in blue. Cas didn't drop his eyes as he started unbuttoning his shirt and Dean couldn't look away.
Once the angel had unbuttoned the shirt he blushed again.
"Could you..." He coughed. "Could you help?" He motioned towards his wings and then his shirt.
Dean's stomach quivered at the thought of touching the wings and he quickly moved so that he was facing Cas's back. He reached out and buried his fingers in the downy cluster of feathers.
The hunter didn't expect the electric current to surge from Cas's feathers into his fingers and across his body. It wasn't unpleasant, actually it was to the contrary. The feeling was a mixture of every positive emotion Dean had ever experienced in his life.
Love, lust, security, happiness, contentedness.
It was seeing Sam safe and happy.
It was the love Dean had for his father and Bobby.
It was the feeling of his mother putting him to bed and telling him angels were watching over him.
It was the moment Castiel would pop up in Sam and Dean's room.
It was Castiel's touch.
It was Castiel's gravelly voice.
It was Castiel.
Dean felt that his heart was going to burst at the onslaught of emotion. "Cas?" He breathed out. His tone was a mixture of a question and a prayer.
The moment Dean collected himself, he realized that Castiel was lax under his grip. The angel was breathing heavily and his eyes were screwed shut. Dean slowly removed his fingers. He wished that they could stand like that forever, but his was slightly worried about Castiel.
The dude did just fall, he thought.
"You okay, Cas?" Dean whispered, he was afraid that if he spoke any louder it would pop their little warm bubble. Castiel's eyes flew open and he nodded. "What just happened?" Dean asked.
"I think that my wings were responding to the little bit of my grace in you."
"I have your grace in me?" Dean asked.
"Yes, when I pulled you out of hell I had to build you up again and I deposited a little bit of my grace in you in order to do so. My hand print on your shoulder is evidence enough."
Dean's hand automatically flew to the raised skin on his shoulder. Every night before Dean went to sleep he would grip the mark tightly and a feeling of serenity and peace would flood him.
Now he knew why.
Dean cleared his throat and decided to change the subject. "I don't think we'll be able to get your shirt off of your wings without cutting it. I'll just get some scissors."
He ducked underneath the wings, careful not to touch them, and grabbed Sam's duffel bag. He rummaged for the First Aid while trying to calm himself down. He couldn't stop thinking of the fact that a piece of Castiel was in him. It made him ridiculously happy.
Once he had found the box, he grabbed the little silver scissors inside and walked back to Castiel.
The angel seemed so awkward, trying to stand still so that he didn't bump something with his wings. Dean found the sight adorable.
He quickly cut through the material and took a moment to admire the angel's back muscles. The sight of it shot a bolt of arousal through him. Especially at the vision of the joints of the wings flowing into Cas's human skin uninterrupted.
He shook his head, trying to rid himself of the sudden cloud of lust.
"All done." He muttered, trowing the ruined shirt into the corner of the room. "How long do you think they're gonna be out?" Dean asked, looking at the wings and feeling the awe bleeding out onto his face.
"I am not sure. They should start wilting soon." Cas's voice was sad. This brought Dean's attention back to his previous question.
"Why did you fall, Cas? You love being an angel."
Castiel grabbed Dean's attention with those big cerulean eyes. "You'll be angry if I tell you."
Dean's eyes widened and he shook his head, violently.
"No. no! It's your choice and I'll support you no matter what, Cas." Dean took a few steps forward until he was in Castiel's personal space.
"That's not what I meant, Dean. I know that you will be there, but I...it's hard to explain."
Castiel was nervous, he kept shooting looks at Dean.
"Just spit it out, Cas." After a few seconds of silence, Dean tried again, "Why did you fall?"
Castiel bit his lip and Dean was startled at the sight of Cas doing something so out-of-character. Castiel took the last step forward until their chests pressed against each other. Dean couldn't breathe.
"You." Castiel whispered. "I fell for you, Dean. I fell in love with you."
Dean sucked in air and tears started falling down his cheeks in earnest.
He realized that crying may be gay, but he never had anyone other than Sam that he loved as much as he loved Castiel. And he may not feel that he was worthy of Cas's love, but for now he was going to enjoy the feeling of being adored and cherished.
He grabbed Castiel and crushed his lips against the angel's. Cas was frozen under his hands, but slowly relaxed and moved his lips with Dean's. The pulled away as soon as they ran out of breath.
"I wasn't expecting that." Castiel spoke, seeming a little embarrassed. Dean raised his eyebrow in question. "I thought that my feelings were not reciprocated. I believed that you were heterosexual and that my vessel would repulse you." Dean chuckled.
"I guess you could say I'm Cassexual." In response to Castiel's confused expression, Dean added, "I love you too, Cas."
With a great gust of wind, Cas's wings wrapped themselves around Dean and pressed the hunter closer to the angel. Dean kissed Castiel again, licking the angel's bottom lip before sucking lightly on said lip. Castiel bucked his hips forward at that, pressing his obvious erection against Dean.
Dean pushed at Cas, trying to get the other man to lie down on the bed and after a few nudges the angel seemed to receive the message. He slid onto the bed and propped his back against the headboard, his wings were slightly cramped, but Castiel didn't seem to mind.
Dean followed and straddled the angel's hips. He lowered his lips and started nipping and licking at Castiel's neck. Dean lifted his hand and buried the extremity into Cas's wings.
The feeling made both men moan and rut against each other.
Castiel slid his hand under Dean's shirt and pulled the hunter even closer.
The door burst open and Castiel stilled his hand. Dean only lifted his head – keeping his hand buried in the feathers.
"Dude?!" Dean growled, looking at whoever had interrupted the two men. Castiel couldn't see the door since Dean was blocking it.
"Uhm...I'll just get another room." A voice sounded. Castiel recognized it as Sam's. The younger Winchester seemed amused.
"Damn right. And don't come looking for us tomorrow morning...we'll see you at breakfast...some time." Dean grinned at his brother lasciviously, raising his eyebrows up and down. Sam groaned and shook his head.
"Uhm...enjoy yourselves." The younger hunter said.
And then they were alone once again.
"So, where were we?" Dean asked, before lowering his lips with a sparkle in his eyes.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed! Please drop a review if you are so inclined.
Love y'all!
P.S. If anybody has any prompts for me, I'll be happy to look at it and write a story! Just let me know!