Disclaimer: I do not own any of these wonderful, gorgeous boys. Kripke gets all the fun.

Warning: Slash, boy-kissing, language

Also: Unbeta'd. All mistakes are mine.

Heaven's Little Angels Have A Dark Side

It was three 'o'clock in the morning, and Dean Winchester couldn't sleep.

He had been surfing the channels for hours, bored ever since Casa Erotica had stopped playing. Now, with his Sasquatch of a brother snoring like a freaking chainsaw in the next bed over, Dean settled on Chiller, the channel with all of the horror shows about overly dramatized monsters. He leaned back and turned up the volume, smiling at the sound of tortured screams while leafing through an old copy of his favorite magazine, Busty Asian Beauties.

A sudden rustle interrupted his amusement. Immediately, Dean shot out of the crappy motel bed, snatching the sawed off shotgun and knife from under his pillow. He looked wildly around, not even recognizing the familiar sound.

"Dean."

The raspy voice rang out past the sound of the horror movie. Dean whirled to see a broken and bloody Castiel half slumped against the wall. "Dammit, Cas, what the hell did you do to yourself?" Dean whisper-yelled, falling to his knees before his injured angel.

"The angels are getting restless," Cas answered, wincing with obvious pain as he moved to sit down completely, his back just barely touching the wall. "They knew that I've been rebelling, and they found their own form of punishment for me."

"Cas, what the hell did they do to you?" Dean asked dangerously. "What did those dicks do to you?"

Cas looked up, his bright cerulean eyes burning with pain. "My wings, Dean," he whimpered, and Dean flinched at seeing such a vulnerable side of his angel.

"What about your wings?"

"Look what they did," the bloodied angel rasped, and suddenly Dean could see the massive black wings, stretching out to span massive lengths. They were the most beautiful and breathtaking things he had ever seen, but they were…different.

The glossy black feathers that looked so touchable and soft were all bent and twisted out of place. Some of the joints that linked the wings together were obviously cracked and dislocated. What made Dean the angriest, though, was that in some places, the feathers had been ripped viciously out of their home on the wings, revealing bare and shivering bones. "Holy freaking shit, Cas," Dean murmured, tentatively running his hand across the top of one wing. For a moment, the angel closed his eyes at the gesture, letting out a blissful sigh as his sensitive wings were touched by a human for the first time ever.

"Dean, I need you to help me fix them," Castiel said, glancing up at the hunter. "You're the best human I know that could do it. And…" he trailed off, looking suddenly ashamed.

"And what?"

Cas looked up again. "And I trust you with my life," he answered. "So, please, help me."

Dean sighed, staring long and hard at the angel he loved so much that it hurt. "Of course," he finally replied. "Get on my bed and get comfy. It looks like we'll be here for a while."

It was four 'o' clock in the morning, and Castiel couldn't breathe.

Partly because he was in intense physical pain from his damaged wings. But he also was captivated by the sight of Dean Winchester painstakingly sewing him up. His strong, callused, time-worn hands wove between the split feathers, carefully guiding them back into place with as little pain on Castiel's part as possible. Castiel, for the first time in the endless millenia that he called life, felt at home.

He bit back a sudden scream of pain as Dean gently snapped a wing joint bact into place, though he couldn't help arching his back in an involuntarily reaction to the intense pain and pleasure he felt as his human carefully mended his fragile, sensitive wings.

"Easy, Cas."

Dean. Cas couldn't help but sigh as he heard the soothing sound of his human's voice pulling him back from the blackness of the unconsciousness that, as an angel, was alien to. "Dean," he groaned quietly, "are you almost done?"

"Just about, Cas. Just hang in there." Suddenly, Dean was right next to him, his hands reaching for the last dislocated joint, right by Cas's shoulder. Castiel opened his eyes briefly, and he almost gasped as he saw the worried- and was that loving?- look in Dean's captivating emerald eyes.

"Dean," Cas groaned, but even he didn't know if he was pleading for Dean to end the pain...or if he was just begging for Dean.

"Cas." Dean carefully smoothed down the ragged feathers by the messed up joint. "This is gonna hurt the most, but I gotta do this to help you, okay?" He looked down at Castiel, and Cas had to restrain himself from kissing his human right then and there. He nodded.

"Okay, Dean. I trust you."

It was four 'o' clock in the morning and Dean Winchester couldn't remember a time when he was more in love than he was right then.

He grasped the final joint on Castiel's wing, looking down into the angel's vaguely tearful eyes. "Hold on, Cas," he whispered, and then he yanked the two long bones back into place.

Cas's blue eyes went wild with unimaginable pain, and his right hand shot up to grab Dean's upper arm. All at once, Dean felt electricity coursing through his body, raging like wildfire in his veins. He, too, gasped out like Castiel, but neither one of them knew if it was from pleasure or pain. Dean glanced to where Castiel had grasped his arm when he was in pain, and he realized that his angel had grabbed the mark that he had made when...

"You gripped me tight and raised me from Perdition," he whispered, and suddenly Cas was lunging at him, enveloping him in his newly healed wings, pressing his soft and hungry lips to Dean's. "Cas," Dean moaned, one hand twisted in the angel's trench coat, the other gripping the back of Cas's neck, fingers pressed in so hard that they were bound to leave bruises.

Dean suddenly pushed Cas back down on the bed with both hands, an unknown emotion glimmering in his heart. This is wrong. This is so, so, SO wrong, he thought to himself.

Cas smiled crookedly up at the hunter, his lips already mildly swollen from the intense heat of the kiss they had shared. "Dean," he murmured, "just because it's wrong doesn't mean we can't do it." The angel raised a tip of his black wing and passed it down Dean's cheek, making him shudder.

"Cas-" Dean began, but he abandoned all inhibitions and then they were together, one, equal, same, union, legion-

It was four 'o' clock in the morning, and Sam slept on, unaware that an angel and his brother were together at last.

Yay! My first Destiel fic! Please review! I need the criticism!