An hour later, having deemed Dean's sandwich completely digested, Cas instructed him to lay down on the bed. A slight thrill went up Dean's spine at the words falling from Cas' slightly chapped lips, words almost purred out in his deep, rough voice –
"This will not be pleasant," Cas whispered a moment before pressing his hand in to, literally IN to, Dean's abdomen. Every stray thought he may or may not have been having about Cas, like a school girl with a crush, flew from his mind as he wrapped both hands tightly around Cas' bare forearm, almost halfway inside of him now, but could barely do more than that. He wanted to lash out, to rip off Castiel's arm just to get it out. He was weak and sweaty, could feel himself trembling, and Cas' face was swimming in his vision as tears filled his eyes. It didn't hurt, per se, but it was like some kind fiery pressure on his every nerve. His skull felt too small for his brain, which was practically vibrating. Just when he'd squeezed his eyes shut, trying to ignore the way his vision was slowly black out, Cas pulled his arm back. Dean's hands went limp, falling to the bed as his body shook lightly with shivers.
"You are flesh and blood," Castiel's voice came out low and calm, eyes fixed on his hand as he formed and released a fist, "but your soul has new potential."
"For what?" His eyes were drifting shut, but Dean was determined to get answers as soon as possible.
Castiel spread his wings and brought them down, disappearing, and Dean let out an incoherent shout full of every curse word he could manage, continuing to mutter angrily in what he hoped was Cas' general direction until he passed out.
He woke up with an ache in his gut that resembled hunger but he knew was more. His upper left arm was also tingling, exactly where Cas' handprint used to be. Still, he went for food since it was probably smart to keep himself fueled.
Giving his crap frozen dinner an angry look, as if it was the cause of this whole mess, Dean dug in, feeling resentment at being left without answers. He was also pretty pissed about being stuck without an outlet to avoid his thoughts. Even though he didn't remember the spell being cast, he couldn't stop thinking about what her motivation was.
Love. There wasn't a scarier word out there as far as Dean Winchester was concerned. And yet here he was, in a situation centered around his admittance of weakness. 'Cause that's what love was.
Not to mention how this subject touched on all of the mommy and daddy issues he's been harboring his entire life. This was about him getting the love he'd ached for since his mother died. The love he never felt he'd earned or, in the darkest parts of him, deserved, from his father. The love that he hoped he gave to Sam.
Now he found himself in a snafu of a species change and the only time it felt alright was when he's with an angel. An angel who had become his friend, companion, savior… the guy who had died for him twice, who'd sacrificed his heavenly family for him in some fucked alternate reality. The being that Dean found himself just a little bit preoccupied with in the still of the night (and sometimes during the day when he was distracted by alcohol, sex, his brother, or hunting).
Cas said his soul had potential before he fled like a bat outta hell, and Dean wanted to know what that meant because a part of him seemed to know it was a good thing.
People thought Dean was stupid or oblivious, but reading people had been engrained in him since he was four years old. Just because he was the king of denial when it came to his own shit didn't mean he was out of touch.
The hunter had easily seen the blatant desire in Cas' eyes the morning he had woken up. Saw how it had matched the stare Gabriel had been giving his brother. And if he was going to be truly honest with himself (there didn't seem room for other options at this point) it thrilled him to know that somewhere inside of Castiel he just may want Dean.
A part of Dean wondered if maybe Cas was right. Maybe he had been given an actual reward; a chance at the truest love he could ever find in his life.
But if that was true, it was time for the real fear to set in. Dean didn't think shit like this. Didn't let himself think it. Even going in to the situation with Lisa had been about him keeping a promise to Sam. The last time he'd been this deep, dreaming of a future kind of deep, had been Cassy.
Once that realization hit him he found himself hysterically laughing, almost wheezing by the time he calms down.
Wasn't that just another sign that somehow, everything in his life had led to this.
Dean decided that being hard headed about something as obvious as this was pretty futile. In fact, it would probably be the worst mistake of his life, because who better to fall in love with than your best friend.
Now the dick just needed to answer his calls.
"I found a hunt," Dean said the next evening when Cas finally showed up in the motel room, scrolls in hand.
Another two days until this thing with Sam was over, and Cas had ignored him all night. Then the prick showed up quickly, startling Dean awake (a few of his feathers had floated off when he zapped in confusion from one bed to the other) to tell him they'd found possible leads at a library in Ancient Greece, Apparently, he and Balthazar were off to transcribe them and would be gone most of the day since the scholars would still need the originals.
"There is some very important information in here that the pagans seemed to have picked up from a Seer. I'm actually quite amazed at how accurate some of his words were, though I do not believe he was a prophet of –"
"Cas." Dean's voice was stern, and the winged warrior rounded on him defensively.
"I know I encouraged you to stick to your routine, but there are things you need to know, things in this text. I cannot be completely sure that these writings relate to what you and Sam have become, but the more I find the more believe it is a supreme blessing sanctioned by my Father."
"Okay, so God wanted me to have wings, and the ability to heal, and all the angel mojo specials that come with the new get up. I get that. But this started because I asked for it. He didn't just give it to me. That's what I gotta talk to you about."
Cas was backing away a bit, apprehension beginning to show in his furrowed brow, and Dean had to fiddle with the label on his beer bottle to keep from reaching out and soothing the lines on the angel's forehead.
"The text made it clear that the change would only be gifted to those pure of heart whose request was made from the deepest wells of need, yet even then it would be ignored unless they deserved divine retribution. In short –"
"Yada yada, God finally cut me and Sam some slack and everything because I asked for love instead of the winning lottery numbers."
Dean felt a thrill when he saw genuine shock, either at the revelation or the fact that the new angel had shared it so freely, on the elder angel's face. Cas' mouth formed an 'oh' for a moment before he pressed them in to a thin line, nodding slowly.
"Catching on now?"
"Well, I do understand why your wish was granted. There is nothing more blessed than love."
"Okay hippie, I'm gonna need you to focus."
Cas raised an eyebrow at the nickname and the affection in Dean's tone, mouth forming another 'oh' of surprise when Dean brushed a hand against his jaw. This was exactly what Cas needed to avoid, because his reactions to Dean, in and out of this borrowed skin, had always been more prominent than to any other humans. Add to that the fact that Dean was giving off that glow, his scent… all of it was working to decimate Castiel's restraint. Yet he refused to give in to his latent instincts since he knew Dean well enough to anticipate the rejection.
"That white witch called on the Grace of the universe to grant me love, and for some reason it triggered some recessive angel gene hidden in my DNA. Since you and Sam are the smart ones of this outfit and he's MIA, how 'bout you put two and two together for me." Dean's confidence was growing, along with the anticipation of finally making a move on his angel.
Cas made an aborted move to sink his hands into Dean's wings which, unbeknownst to the hunter, had stretched themselves out in a move that his instincts told him would serve duel purposes; catch the light of his wings, and present the soft underside to his potential mate. Mate. The word screamed at Dean, and he felt relief and disappointment both when Cas shoved his hands into the pocket of his trench coat. Everything was still so new, so raw. It was too much and not enough all at once.
"You're saying that your wish also set in motion your transformation, so they correlate somehow."
"Come on Cas. Don't be dense." Dean was losing his confidence because once he'd put two and two together it had seemed clear as day. It had been an abstract thought right on the border of his 'Do Not Cross' line long before the wings. And fuck, couldn't Cas smell him. Because he could damn well smell Cas and he was pretty sure that shit was biologically reciprocal. At least, he hoped.
"It would stand to reason that, that your love lies in someone who –"
"Geez, man, sometimes I think you do it on purpose."
Dean reached for the front of Cas' trench coat, grip tight to prevent a disappearing act.
Castiel didn't have the chance to ask what he might be doing on purpose when Dean leaned forward and planted his lips firmly against his slack mouth.
Barely giving the other angel the chance to respond, Dean sucked Castiel's lower lip between his own, flicking it with his tongue. His body surged forward to press up against Cas when a hand landed in just the right spot on his shoulder.
"Dean," Cas croaked, hand tightening on Dean's shoulder as he brought his free one to the new angel's cheek. Forcing himself to pull Dean away from the kisses he was scattering across the older angel's neck, Case managed to breathe out, "Dean, are you sure this is what you want?"
Dean nodded, eyes locking on to Castiel's to bring his point home in their established mode on non-verbal communication. He didn't break the connection as he turned his head to press a damp kiss to the center of Cas' palm. The way Cas sucked a breath in through his nose caused Dean's wings to fly forward and tentatively brush against Castiel's own.
That seemed to jolt the Celestial.
"We need to talk about this. You need to understand what you're getting in to, please, Dean," Cas sounded worried, which seemed to cut through the haze of their joining scents that was clogging Dean's senses.
"Does everything have to be done academically with you? For fuck's sake, I told you why this happened Cas. What this means." But Dean reminded himself that while he had readily accepted that love had meant Castiel, he really wasn't sure what that meant. "Fuck. It was so easy for Sammy, going in to his heat."
"That's another reason I want to collect all of the information as soon as possible. Once he's in his right mind Sam will want to be filled in. And I promise you, it will not have been easier for him."
Dean saw right through Cas' adopted back-to-business, but he backed away and sat on the bed, giving Castiel room to think. He probably had a point. Still, Dean wrapped his wings around himself in a manner that was nothing close to sulking.
The total change of subject had wiped the pleasant tension from the air, and Dean was definitely not pouting about it. He was sitting there quietly watching Castiel pace and giving him his space. Which was difficult, considering he'd just spilled his guts all over the floor and Cas' thinking face now seemed to include skimming his tongue across his lower lip and biting down.
When the silenced stretched on for too long, Dean succumbed to his screaming need to break it. He wanted to get this show on the road.
"I don't get why you're in such a rush. Sam's gonna be… occupied for the next day or two."
Cas looked at him like he didn't make any sense, and Dean wondered where the angel's mind had gone.
"I'm still collecting all of the data I can on the mating rituals and the laws of angelic conception –"
"What now?"
"- so it can be avoided –"
"Did you really just say 'conception'?"
"- if they want to avoid it," Castiel finished, eyeing Dean's face in confusion. "What did you think the result of a coupling would be, Dean? I know humans copulate casually, but its basic function is procreation. Even if they experienced pleasure now gifted to the flesh, Celephilim mated to breed."
"But – but they're both male!" It was the only rational argument Dean could come up with when being faced with a word like breed. Would that be what would happen if he and Cas –
"Angels are genderless. I've told you that before." There was a weight behind Castiel's words that Dean couldn't identify because he was still stuck on all of the technical jargon and threat of procreating and how it was really taking the fun out of prospective angelsex. "That's why there's a cast system of Alphas, Omegas, and Betas."
"So, what? Alphas are like, the dominant ones, Omegas and Betas are the submissive ones? Right? So the Omega or Beta can get pregnant?" Whether they're a guy or girl, Dean wanted to add, 'cause he still couldn't understand the concept of a genderless, skyscraper-sized Castiel. His vessel was a male human, but the power he radiated was something completely different, and all of it, every detail, is what Dean had fallen for. He'd get over the guy thing, he would. But which one of them was the Alpha?
As if Castiel could hear his thoughts his nostrils flared as his wings spread to their full span. Dean responded by baring the underside of his wings again but his head, of its own volition, leaned to the side in an offering that made Cas growl softly. That was when Dean felt his dick twitch and a wetness begin to dampen a place that was not supposed to get wet.
"You're an Omega, Dean."
"Shit."
Dean dropped to his knees, blood pounding in his ears.
"Shit," he repeated, shaky hands coming to his brow line as he stared, unseeing, at the carpet, until his hands were batted away.
"This is why I'm holding back." Cas cupped Dean's cheek, tipping his head back softly until their eyes met. Dean reached up to borrow strength enough to stay upright by holding on to Castiel's thigh. Dean's tawny wings were sagging, gold and burnt orange feathers pooling on his calves.
"From the moment I descended into the Pit and sensed your soul, I loved you in a way I didn't understand. I had only ever loved my Father and humanity as a whole. When I saw your soul –"
What had started out so soothing descended into territory he never wanted to enter, and Dean flinched. Castiel reached for his hands, pulling gently until he was standing, and steered him towards the bed.
"You're my Alpha, aren't you?" The question was completely rhetorical; the hunter sounded defeated. Dean knew it now, like he knew that the sky was blue and the Colt wouldn't kill the Devil.
"Only if you so choose," Castiel responded softly, eyes on the stand by the bed. "I should be going."
"Cas." It came out broken, so Castiel had no choice but to comfort the Omega. He leaned in for a soft, hopefully reassuring, kiss. Dean responded, so Castiel thought he had made the right move even as his body urged him for more. Still he kept the kiss light and pulled away slowly.
"I'll come back later and watch over you as you sleep, if you wish." Cas said it quietly, as if he knew it would embarrass Dean which it really, really did, because that should creep him the fuck out, but –
"Yeah, I'd, uh, I guess I'd be okay with that."
With a last brush of lips against lips, Castiel pulled up Dean's hands, kissed each of his knuckles, and was gone.
