Author's Note: _

This is a gift work for my friend Aussie ( u/5148867/earth-seraph) who is just plain amazing. ;)

I'm currently working on ch. 2 right now so don't be flippin' shit, okay? (just kidding, but seriously doe)

Also, the picture for this fic is also what Castiel's tattoos look like- I don't know who owns the pic, but either way it's not mine- just a random Google pic that inspired this a bit. Haha.

ENJOY!~

Castiel's worn keys jangled in the doorway against the knob, a few grocery bags sitting uncomfortably on his wrists as he hurried himself inside with a muffled shiver. He was entering his apartment, bundled up in two- almost three- jackets, a scarf, and he was still currently freezing his limbs off. He locks the door with shaking fingers and wobbles over to the table, setting the bags on it's surface and collapsing in a chair.

He had just walked five blocks through heavy snow and ice to just get a few minor things and supplies for his photo shoot- the one that's about to start with Dean Winchester.

Castiel considers himself a very lucky man when he gets the check for doing Dean's camera work instead of someone else. The man was a popular hit among many magazines and a trend for the internet- all because, not only was he gorgeous anyway, he had mostly-midnight-colored wings sprouting from his back. It was rare to find somebody with them, and Dean's extra appendages earned him a higher rating than most of the extremely professional models out there strutting what they had. Castiel can see why fairly easily.

He's always liked wings, wanted them ever since he was little. So much so he got them tattooed on his upper back and forearms once when he was drunk with friends- but he doesn't regret it because it looks awesome and it's the closest thing to actually having them. He likes how they look, and he wishes they were composed of actual downy feathers instead of ink. Castiel's forgotten how many times he's sat in front of a mirror in his apartment staring at the 2-D markings on his skin hoping one day they might actually become feathers. It was a hopeless thought, really. Besides, his wings would probably be mediocre at best.

Dean's wings however were practically amazing- they were a dark shiny brown with flecks of dirty-blonde that matched his hair, and Castiel believes no other winged person could ever surpass their beauty with their feathers. Castiel adored them, adored taking so many photos of them with Dean flexing them out. They were just absolutely and undoubtedly beautiful. He was also graced with the blessing of being the only photographer Dean ever allowed to take photos of them with his consent and in such positions with him posing in a few feet away. It's like getting a Nobel Prize or something. Especially since Castiel is nowhere near the level or label "professional".

There's a quick and fleeting knock on the door, and Castiel throws off his overbearing jackets now his skin has gone to somewhat at a regular temperature, and he rushes to the door.

"Hey Cas."

"Hello, Dean."

"Sorry I'm behind a little- I kinda slept in through my alarm… I should stop staying up so late- barely had any time to get ready for you."

Castiel takes a moment for that last phrase to seep into his brain to be processed, but ends up furrowing his brow. Dean looks like he walked straight out of a catalogue or photo shoot, and he apparently didn't even try. Life is so unfair sometimes.

"It's fine, you're here now and that's all that matters."

Dean nods, "It's the cover for Wings right?"

"It is. You know the drill."

Castiel is fixing the camera he has held tightly in his hands, fidgeting with some of the buttons and focusing the zoom when he chances a quick glance at Dean. Big mistake.It's because whenever Castiel ever looks towards Dean while he's getting prepared for a shoot, he can't stop watching and doesn't pay attention to anything but him. He's too caught up in the flexing muscles of Dean's back and taught wings, his eyes following the fine grain and the natural curves… Castiel can't help but swallow to cure his suddenly dry throat.

"Cas?" Dean's voice makes reality snap back into place, "You ready?"

Castiel nearly fumbles with his camera, silently thankful that Dean's back is to him, hoping there's no crimson lining his cheeks as he squeaks, "Yes."

"What position do you want me in?"

Castiel's mind of course takes that in a very different way- but he forces the thoughts and images back to focus on business- only business.

"Over there on the floor next to the sliding door. Are they okay with you being shirtless?"

Dean smirks, "Sugar, they'd pay any amount to see me naked. It's completely fine."

Castiel is sure his blush is beyond visible now, "Oh- well just take off your shirt then, I think I might have an idea."

Dean does as Castiel instructs, and Castiel watches as Dean's back faces him once more- the fibers and sinew moving under his flawless, tanned skin as he shucks his shirt off above his head like a stripper would when servicing her client of the night. When Dean turns, Castiel tries to avert his gaze, and even when looking out of the corner of his eye he can still fucking tell Dean's smirking right now. He's naturally tan, like the sun kissed his skin sweetly and its warm touch still lingered. Making him look like he was lit which in a way vibrated off in a warm sort of creamed coffee tone. Castiel can't deny that Dean's attractive- no one can.

"Lay down by the sliding door."

Once Dean's settled on the floor, Castiel goes over to push the curtains shielding the clear glass away. The snow had lightened a bit, now just a slow downfall. Now he can see the city line of New York glowing faintly in the background perfectly.

"It's gorgeous isn't it?"

Castiel nearly jumps at Dean's voice. It sounds disconnected from him, as if Dean's too focused in the flurries of ice crystals drifting outside.

"It is…" Castiel mumbles in reply, heart fluttering in his chest like the frozen precipitation Dean's so entranced by.

Castiel goes back to where he was originally, taking the camera into his hand and off of his chest, flicks his tongue across his chapped lips to try and make them feel less ashy. Dammit, he needs to get chapstick…

"Okay- sit straight in front me and flex your wings above you, kind of like an eagle would posing for a dollar bill when there's a change in currency."

Dean smirks at that as he unsheathed his wings, Castiel nearly losing himself in the sight of the feathers. He silently clears his throat. They ruffle out above Dean easily, joints fluidly pulling upwards and causing them to go high above Dean's head and almost to the ceiling.

"Now look out towards the window. It's going to be like you're stretching at home or something."

"Not a bad idea… They'll like that- homey and not too flashy."

"That's one of the goals." Castiel checks the camera one more time, "Don't wanna make you look like a complete porn star, do we?"

Dean chuckles at that, but doesn't reply. Instead he looks in the direction that Castiel requested, wings still taught and raised as Castiel snaps a few quick shots. Once satisfied, Castiel let's the camera fall to his chest like a teenage girl would once done playing with her necklace.

"Alright-" Dean looks at him then, green eyes bright and all focused on Castiel, "I want you to sit and look out the window this time. Instead of having your wings in the air all tensed, have them relaxed on your back and lying on the floor a little."

Dean nods and complies, voice in a funny tone as he speaks, "As you wish."

Castiel tilts his head in misunderstanding while Dean just shakes his head in utter disappointment, "I can't make references with you…"

"Is that bad?"

"No. It's cute, actually."

Castiel blushes, "Oh…"

Dean poses while Castiel snaps the shot, the black speckled appendages resting easily among the honey-gold floorboards. Castiel clicks the button once more and then moves his camera down a little. It rests in his hands, looking as though he's prepared to take a picture of Dean because he's supposed to be- Castiel just can't. He can't with how utterly amazing Dean looks right now. All relaxed and settled in his apartment, his second most intimate body part exposed to Castiel as he watches the light flurries of snow in a not-so-distant window. It screams at Castiel like some sort of daydream come true, that the person you admire so much seems to be so down to Earth or something and Castiel just can't process it really.

"Do I need to change positions now?"

Castiel nearly swallows wrong- something that's happened before, actually, "Oh, sure. You can freestyle this if you want. I don't have anymore preferences or ideas right now."

Dean seems to take to those words like a duck to water, fanning out his wings against the New York skyline, like he's about to just take flight and leave out of the window. Castiel feels his breath slip through his dry lips as he can see tiny bits of the tall buildings and lights through the dark peppered feathers, and the lights coming through look like small stars.

"Is this good?" Dean asks, as though any of his poses could be anything but good.

"Yeah uhh, just fine actually…"

Castiel takes several pictures of this, being sure that his lens takes to the little speckles of light and dirty-blonde. Wings was going to be blown away.

Dean turns now, "Is there anywhere else that you want to shoot?"

"I didn't think of anything else…" Castiel sheepishly admits, running a hand through his hair for a moment before adding, "Where do you want to go?"

"I have some ideas… But I'll wait till later to tell you. Let's get some food first- I'm ravenous. That okay?"

Castiel is a little surprised because this usually isn't how Dean does a photo shoot at all. There was snapping a few shots and it was done- over. Or at least until Dean's job came calling again. There was never any plates or the clinking of forks involved when it came to these things, so Castiel had the right to be a little off balanced at that. But who can deny Dean Winchester?

"Uhh- sure."

Dean smiles brightly, his white teeth amplifying the curve of his soft lips, "Come on then, I've got a place."

Castiel bundles himself up but not as much as before. You don't want to look like you're made of blubber when it comes to impressing your slight crush- alright, it's a little more than that but Castiel has to keep this as professional as possible. Dean already has his leather jacket on, an accessory that's fairly common with him throughout more than just the winter months. His wings are gone and tucked in for the moment, they usually are when Dean's not getting photographs done of him and he's in public. Castiel locks the door behind him as Dean waits in the hallway.

"So where are we going?"

"Some hole in the wall I know. Not too popular but the food's great."

Castiel nods, "Should I know I about it?"

There's a laughs that rings through the air that causes Castiel to feel like he's melting into his one jacket, "Maybe- but you will after this."

Castiel follows Dean out into the bustling crowds of New York City, cold nipping at his cheeks and easily seeping through his one coat. He regrets trying not to make himself look like a puffed marshmallow around Dean and freezing his ass off in the process. Well, if Castiel had purple fingertips and toes in the morning then it's his own damn fault.

"Cas, you okay? You look like you're freezing over there…"

"N-No I'm not. I just get the c-chills sometimes… It's nothing to be worried ab-bout."

Dean furrows his brow, "Come 'ere."

Castiel starts to ask why, to protest the idea even though he really doesn't want to when he feels Dean's arm snake around his waist and pull him close. Castiel is sure he can keep himself warm with how heated his cheeks become at the proximity, but Dean seems adamant to have Castiel cling to his side. His teeth chatter for a moment longer, but soon the heat rolling off from Dean seems to settle the chill somewhere distant enough for his jaw to stop spasming. He hopes Dean won't notice as he slides a little closer and nearly hums at the feeling. Dean doesn't seem to- thank God for small miracles, sometimes.

"Feelin' better Cas?" Dean asks, his hand resting comfortably at Castiel's hip.

Castiel nods, "A fraction yes… Umm, thank you Dean."

"It's nothin' Cas."

Right… Nothing…

It's just then that they arrive at the small "hole in the wall", a small favor to Castiel because he doesn't want to focus on those three words that just left Dean's mouth. He fears it'll smother the warm little feeling he's got buzzing in his chest right now, and it would be like him to turn these moments sour over a lost one.

The restaurant in question doesn't seem like much, just like an Average Joe's place to go when he didn't feel like making some new dirty dishes. Dean walks in, a bell ringing as the door opens. The room they're entering immediately feels homey, warm compared to the chilled weather outside as he and Dean chose a table in the corner. Castiel takes the seat that lets him see the whole room while Dean sits down with his back to the entrance.

A woman comes over, curly blonde hair falling over her shoulders and framing her face, and going by her expression she and Dean are familiar with each other.

"Hey Jo!"

"Hey Dean- good to see you're back again so soon."

Castiel feels a pang of something low in his gut as he sees the smiles they're sharing, "How could I not? You and Ellen-" just perfect, someone else, "know I can't stay away from here if I tried."

Jo snorts, "Yeah, but something tells me you'll never put the effort in to think that for a second."

"You know me so well."

"We all do Dean." she rolls her eyes with that and turns to Castiel, "What would you like to get? Dean-o here never changes his order."

Castiel clears his throat, not expecting to be thrown into the conversation so early on, "Oh umm- I've never been here before so uhh… I'll have what he's having."

She smiles, "Seems a little risky to take a shot in the dark with your stomach on the line- but hey, Dean-o here just gets a burger and fries. Lucked out this time."

Jo leaves, Castiel trying to stop the bitterness of disappointment that's about to crash onto his mood like an overbearing wave as he shifts in his seat. He feels so uncomfortable now, like someone's taken his skin and rubbed it all wrong until it was raw and poured lemon juice on it.

"You okay Cas? You look like you've got ants crawling on you or somethin'."

Castiel straightens, looking at the dark wood forming their table as if it were Dean or something instead, "Oh- I'm okay. I've just never been here before…"

Castiel wishes that all of that was true.

Dean seems to take that as an acceptable answer, leaning back in his chair and running a hand in his hair and sighing, "Sorry about Jo or whatever… She and I have an… unique relationship."

This is something Castiel surely wants to remain unknown, "Oh- how so?"

"Well," Castiel is really digging his own grave right now, "she and I have known each other for a long time. People usually view us as a couple, or friends with benefits- sometimes a relationship that went south or something but it's… It's not that at all. Jo and I are kind of an unrelated brother and sister to each other."

"Oh." and Castiel finds it suddenly easier to breathe, "She mentioned someone else… Ellen, was it?"

Dean smiles, Castiel fearing for the worst, "Oh- that's her mom. She and I also go way back."

Castiel gives a mental scream of relief, letting himself relax a little in his chair- he has nothing to worry about, "Huh, well that's good. I'm guessing this is their place, then?"

"Yep-" Dean plays with the straw of his coke, "they used to own a roadhouse off the interstate in Nebraska a long time ago, but they moved up here after Jo's dad died. Jo and I met when I was in high school- we were both in photography together."

Castiel smiles, "I never would have guessed you would know how to handle a camera."

"That's because more often than not they'd rather have me in front of it."

That's when Jo shows up, which Castiel is unsure to call a good or bad thing- considering their conversation seemed to be leading to a sensitive subject for Dean. Castiel instead eyed his plate in front of him then Dean, counting the seeds on the bun rather than the faint freckles on Dean's face. The food looks surprisingly good, actually. Better than Castiel had imagined it would be. Dean seems to glance up at him once before settling his gaze upon his glistening fries.

"So, does it seem like you can trust my word and stomach more often?" Dean asks, dipping a fry in ketchup and popping it into his mouth, chewing while Castiel swallows some of his water.

He nods, "I guess I should- this doesn't seem bad at all. This is what you usually get, from what Jo said?"

"Of course! They've got the best burgers here in New York because they know how to cook em' just right. I grew up mostly in Texas so I know some good beef when I see or taste it."

Castiel nearly swallows his fry down wrong, but quickly rebounds, "T-That's a good quality to have."

Dean smirks after he takes his first bite, sort of moaning into the hamburger and it makes Castiel's mouth water a little. He breaks his gaze off of Dean before it's noticeable he's staring and settles it on his burger. He picks it up with slightly weary hands, fixing it in his grip a little above the plate before moving it towards his mouth. Castiel lets it meet his opened lips, sliding it in and taking a small bite. He chews, surprised at the taste that seems to now be overwhelming his taste buds.

"Told you it was good."

Castiel hadn't noticed Dean watching him, something that makes the buzz he's been feeling lately prickle his skin and give him goosebumps. He swallows early (to some displeasure) to reply, "It's not that I don't believe you Dean, it's just a 'I have to try this for myself to be the judge of that' kind of thing."

Dean gives a soft smile, unusual considering most of the time it's a playful smirk that means a witty comment or something else is on it's way. It makes Castiel want to see it more often before it's gone so Dean can talk, "I think I know the feeling."

"The feeling?" Castiel deadpans, "Why is that?"

There it is again- that smile, "There's someone I've got my eyes on right now, you know? They're really special and stuff, trust them like no one else. Everyone's told me I shouldn't even really be talking to them, that I should spend time with 'people more like me'. I say bullshit, it's my time I can do what I want with it. But this person Cas- they're just amazing."

Yep, good feelings gone.

"R-Really? …"

Dean doesn't seem to notice how much Castiel had deflated in happiness as he eagerly continues, "Yeah! I see them a lot- or as much as I can manage you know? Work usually gets in the way with them so I don't have much time… But recently I think I've been able to take a step forward with them, explore the path of something more than knowing each other, you know?"

"Yeah…" Castiel looks solemnly at the rest of his food, suddenly uninterested and not hungry, "I think I do. Good luck with them, Dean."

"Thanks Cas, I think I'm going to need it. They're kind of an introverted person-" Dean stops talking for a moment and then continues on quietly, "You've stopped eating… Is there something wrong, Cas? Do you need another plate or something? …"

Castiel shakes his head in a quick denial, "No no! It's just- I'm not as hungry as I originally thought…"

"Oh…" it's all Dean says now.

They don't talk much after that, the words of Dean's fancy to another person have caused Castiel's stomach to be as ever shifting as the ocean waves. Maybe he was getting seasick from them. He hides the hand resting uneasily on his stomach with his coat, Dean no longer offering to warm Castiel. It only furthers on the forlorn feeling in the air. They make it back to Castiel's apartment.

"Umm- I think we've got enough pictures today Dean…" Castiel says quietly, standing with the man who just took his heart and shoved it into a blender in front of his door, "Thank you for the food and giving me some of your time. I know- I know it's a lot for you."

Dean seems to avoid Castiel's eyes, voice falling a little flat like Castiel's past hopes as he speaks, "Yeah, don't mention it Cas…"

Great, now Castiel's upset him too. As if he need anymore reasons to slap himself in the mirror today.

"Goodbye Dean."

"Later Cas."

Castiel unlocks his apartment door and falls against the wood once it's shut. He feels like vomiting, feels like crying- instead he just runs a hand through his hair while walking towards his room in defeat. He slumps against the bed, head about as unsteady as the beating in his chest. How can a day that started out so well end so badly?

…

There's a hefty knocking on Castiel's door that first gets his attention.

The second thing is this inconsistent itch on his back that almost burns with how strong it flares. The rooms too hot and too cold, somehow never lending Castiel any comfort as he wraps the blanket tightly around his shoulders to fend himself. He pads to the door, shuffling as he tries to keep his stomach from emptying itself till he at least answers the god damn door.

"Hello?" Castiel pulls the door back to Dean, "W-What are you doing here?"

Dean starts saying something but abruptly shuts his mouth, then begins sliding himself through the door in a way that makes Castiel grunt with irritation.

"Dean- you never answered me."

Dean holds a hand up behind himself, eyes darting all around. He sniffs the air- which Castiel finds weird- then proceeds to scan all of the rooms in Castiel's apartment.

"Cas, have you been the only person here?" Dean seems to only get confused more as Castiel shakes his head, "No one's been here other than you?"

Castiel sighs, "No Dean- it's just been me in my own apartment. Now come on, why are you here? We don't have a photo shoot or anything today. You're not scheduled to come until next week, at least."

Dean seems to rush through his words in one sentence, Castiel barely able to understand him, "I was worried about how you were because of how yesterday ended so I came over here to apologize and see if you okay and if we could complete our shoot and you open the door looking sick as hell with the smell of a wingling in your apartment. That suffice, Cas?"

"I guess so…" Castiel has so many damn questions now, "What do you mean wingling scent?"

Dean is checking the latches of Castiel's windows before moving to the sliding door, as if the answers to the scent Castiel doesn't even know about are held there, "Someone who's just gotten wings Cas. You know- the things I have?"

"Thank you for that Dean-" Castiel says curtly, "but I still don't understand. No one's been in this apartment other than you and me. Could it be someone else in the complex?"

The man watches as Dean shakes his head, now even looking underneath Castiel's couch cushions, "No- there's a limited range it has and it's the strongest in your-" Dean lifts his head, "bedroom."

"Dean?"

Dean looks over with an expression that makes Castiel feel like a bug under a magnifying glass in the sun, "Sheet, shirt, or whatever- off. Now."

"D-Dean, what are you-"

Dean rolls his eyes and rushes over, struggling with the fabric Castiel is cocooning himself in, "Dammit Cas let me-"

The blanket falls away from Castiel's shoulders, the photographer feeling his cheeks heat because Dean's staring. Castiel feels like he should hide or something, or at least pick the blanket up off of the floor. Either way he's a little embarrassed, knowing that Dean is full and well seeing the black wings inked on his skin.

"Before you ask- I was drunk when I got the tattoos."

"It's not that it's-" Dean takes a sharp inhale before speaking again, "dammit Cas you've got wings."