Okay so this hasn't been beta read, but I've reread it a few times myself and I think I'm okay with it.
Finally, getting down and dirty, hope you enjoy it :)
Thank you all for your lovely reviews.
And for the person who just commented on chapter 5, even though I don't write the Sabriel side of this, yes Sam can now see his wings ;D I can assure you he probably got a boner from it.
Also, to anyone reading this who's interested in Sabriel, please let me know if you'd enjoy a series of side stories from their perspective.
Chapter 10
Dean was woken by the shrill sound of his phone, and found himself tangled up with the angel in the dark, a strong wind battering the outside of the cabin and heavy rain drumming down on the frail roof. He groaned and rolled over, still wrapped up in the warmth of Castiel's wing, and reached a hand down into his pocket to retrieve his phone. The screen was glaring too bright for him to read it, so he just pressed it to his ear and answered gruffly. "Hello?"
"Dean, have you seen the news?" Bobby's voice was strained and quiet, and it immediately made Dean sit up and listen.
"Of course not, we don't even have light here," Dean grunted. Castiel let out a soft moan beside him and flexed his wings, eyes opening slowly to look up at Dean. "What's happened?"
"Three major cities have been nearly wiped off the map," Bobby sighed, and Dean heard the gruff drawl of Crowley's voice in the background as he relayed more information. "Crowley says the pattern has Detroit in the middle of it." Dean closed his eyes as the nausea swept over him, and let out a long, shuddering breath. "I'm sorry, Dean." Dean could not answer, hanging up and throwing his phone clear across the room. Castiel pushed himself up so he was sitting beside Dean, stretching his wings out as far as he could to shake out the sleep before wrapping one back around the man and reaching his arms out to pull him closer. Dean seemed reluctant at first, but with a little encouragement he leaned against the angel.
"He said yes," Dean said numbly, turning his head to look the angel in the eyes. Castiel still looked a little sleep-addled, but his face saddened nonetheless at the news. "Why would he say yes?" There was a sudden, loud knock at the door and Dean jumped and snapped his eyes towards it. No one knew where they were, no one could possibly know. Dean removed himself from the angel's embrace and moved to get the knife from the table before stalking over to the door slowly. He hesitated as another knock, louder than the last, rattled the door.
"Will you open the fucking door?" The voice was distinctly Gabriel, and Dean was puzzled.
"Why don't you just fly in?" There was an exasperated cry from outside.
"When I left, I strengthened the protection on the building to keep out any creature of God that shouldn't be getting in. I am a creature of God, I can't get in." Dean reached for the handle and opened the door, finding a very windswept and wet Gabriel on the other side.
"Well… come in, then?" Gabriel stared at him with a withering look and reached a hand out.
"Invite me in," he said coldly. Dean looked at the hand that was outstretched.
"I just did." Suddenly Castiel was at his side, taking Gabriel's hand and pulling him in through the door. The archangel breathed a sigh of relief and was dry in a snap, running a hand through his hair to smooth it back out. Dean shut the door and stared quizzically at the archangel. "What sort of protection did you put on the place?" Gabriel was flushed and worn out, but his eyes were wild with anger and barely controlled power.
"When I managed to appear back in here earlier I knew the protection wasn't strong enough, it didn't protect against someone as clever as myself," Dean snorted at that and Gabriel rolled his eyes before continuing, "so I put up some wards, added a few more symbols, and now you're invisible and impenetrable." He looked at the shirtless angel who still had his wings manifested, the limbs folded neatly to his back. "So you could, you know, do whatever." Castiel shook his head and fluttered his wings for a moment before hiding them.
"We were doing nothing," he said quietly before going to get dressed again. The brief distraction of the archangel's appearance had made Dean temporarily forget what had happened, but as he spotted the phone on the floor near his feet, where it had landed earlier, it all hit him like a truck.
"Sam said yes," he muttered as he bent down to pick up the device. Gabriel sighed and his hand was in his hair again, fingers trailing nervously through the light brown strands.
"I know," the archangel sighed, turning to look at Castiel. The younger angel was dressed now, adjusting the tie around his neck and looking ready for business again. The change in demeanour was incredible, really. Castiel looked nothing like the relaxed being he had been just a few minutes ago, his shoulders tight and his face tugged into a frown.
"We should move," Castiel said quietly, and Gabriel nodded in agreement.
"There's nothing here now, everyone's gone to a different party. You know they didn't even open the gate here? There was another one up north," Gabriel grumbled away to himself as he started to wander around the room, as if the décor of the piece of crap cabin was interesting.
"So it was just a trap?" Dean asked angrily, standing stock still beside the door. Castiel rolled his eyes from Gabriel to Dean, that sympathetic tilt to his head. It was almost too much. "Don't even start, Cas," he hissed lowly, moving forward to pick up his weapons. Castiel sighed and looked back to Gabriel, the archangel had stopped his pacing and was idly running his fingers over the feather that still rested in his hand.
"I'll take your car back to your friend's place," Gabriel said quietly. "I doubt you want to drive all that way." Dean straightened up from packing his weapons into a bag to meet the level stare of the archangel. Gabriel seemed emotionless, for the first time since Dean had met him, and those golden eyes were a little unnerving. Dean somehow could not disagree with him, and nodded slowly.
"Yeah, thanks," he said hoarsely before looking to Castiel. The angel was silent and brooding now, not offering Dean any soft gaze or sympathy. "Uhm… if Cas could… give me a lift," Dean muttered. Castiel did not look at Dean, nodding once in agreement. Gabriel cleared his throat lightly and drew their attention back to him.
"I'll just… get your stuff from the motel too, then." Gabriel left them alone, disappearing into thin air without another word. Dean went about packing away anything he had out in the cabin as Castiel stood silently, waiting. Guilt was starting to creep into him, and as he slung the bag over his shoulder and approached the angel he took a deep sigh.
"Cas," he said quietly, and that sharp gaze turned to him, piercing his soul and making him suck in a breath. The angel was clearly not annoyed, or hardly even upset, in fact he seemed completely blank. He guessed it was the angelic way of dealing with things. "Cas look I'm-" he was interrupted by a warm hand against his cheek and his surroundings suddenly lurching around him. He was stood outside Bobby's, the sound of raging wind and rain silenced as they stood beneath a clear night sky. He barely cared about the scenery change, that warm palm against his cheek and that celestial gaze still locked onto his own. "Sorry," he breathed, and Castiel only answered him with a nod before withdrawing his hand and moving towards the house.
The Impala gleamed beneath the starlight, parked neatly in front of Bobby's, restored to her former glory. Dean had to admit he was grateful to the archangel, who was resting idly against her bonnet with a chocolate bar in his hand. It was good to see Gabriel eating again, although Dean suspected it was only for his power's sake. Gabriel seemed to operate best on a sugar high. The archangel pushed himself up to walk up the steps of Bobby's porch with Dean and Castiel, and none of them said a word as Dean knocked loudly on the door. It opened almost instantly to reveal the judgmental stare of Crowley awaiting them. The demon cocked an eyebrow and took in the three beings stood before him, Dean with an angry glare, Castiel looking as blank as ever and Gabriel being far more interested in the selection of candy he had just conjured than anything that was happening around him, before sighing. "The screw up brigade is here," he hollered, and Dean heard footsteps in the hall before Crowley vanished from before them and Bobby stepped up into his place.
The first thing Bobby did was draw Dean into a tight hug, and Dean felt the tears creeping up on him again as he breathed in the familiar whiskey scent of the old hunter. It was like coming home, and it was what Dean really needed at that point in time. "I'm sorry, son," the older man muttered hoarsely, and Dean nodded mutely as he pulled away and swallowed back his emotions for what had to be the hundredth time that day. Bobby turned his head to look over Dean's shoulder and see the two angels stood on the porch, Castiel waiting awkwardly and Gabriel with his arms folded throwing a very impatient glare at Dean. The archangel cocked a brow as Dean turned to look at him, and the hunter sighed.
"You did this one too?" He asked as he reached out a hand to drag him in by his jacket. Gabriel laughed and strolled in once he was over the threshold.
"Of course, I did it as soon as I could," Gabriel said. Bobby narrowed his eyes at the archangel, who only frowned in return. "What?"
"That was you?" the old hunter asked quietly as Dean reached out a hand to Castiel. The angel took it gently and stepped in beside him, standing close as Dean shut the door. Gabriel was sighing exasperatedly.
"Yes, why?" The archangel seemed to be losing his patience again, but followed Bobby nonetheless as they all moved towards the library. Bobby did not answer his question, and Dean nearly walked straight into the back of the archangel as he slammed on the brakes right in the doorway.
"Gabriel, what the-"
"Brother?" Gabriel's voice was quiet and confused, and Dean tried to peer around the doorframe to see who the archangel was staring at. The only other being in the room was Crowley.
"Gabriel," Crowley answered calmly with a small head tilt and a smirk, hands in the coats of his pockets. Dean looked to Castiel, but the young angel was apparently just as confused. Shoving the archangel a little, Dean gained access to the room and went to stand near Bobby as Gabriel finally moved a little closer to the demon. Bobby watched with his arms folded, an unreadable expression on his face, and Dean felt like he was the only one who had no clue what was happening. "Witness protection treated you better, I see," Crowley muttered quietly. Gabriel was closer to him now, golden eyes scanning over every inch of him as if he had never seen a demon before in his life, but then Dean was suddenly doubting. He dared not speak up, the energy visibly crackling out of Gabriel and along his wings, but he was becoming more and more curious about witness protection.
"It… it has its perks," Gabriel murmured, brows knitting into a frown. "Where… what happened?" Crowley let out a long sigh and Dean's jaw must have hit the floor as shadows started to creep out from the demon, six of them, extending to form wings that dwarfed even Gabriel's. They were black but Dean could see the shimmer of blue along them in the corner of his eye, much like wings of a raven. Gabriel seemed to take them in too for a long moment before turning his eyes back to the demon's face. Although Crowley was certainly not a demon, or at least not like any Dean had ever heard of. Sam would be having such a fit at this.
"I'm good at hiding," Crowley answered with a faint smile, folding the wings down to his back before ticking his gaze over to the three figures stood some distance behind Gabriel. It was at this point that Dean realised Bobby was the only one in the room who was completely unaffected.
"You knew?" Dean hissed lowly. The old hunter glanced at him for a moment before looking back to the brotherly exchange.
"You get to know these things when you pay attention," Bobby grunted as he moved to sit down at his desk again. When Dean looked back to the pair of angels, or whatever Crowley was, he saw Gabriel draw Crowley into a hug, his small vessel delivering a fierce grip. The other man rolled his eyes a little and hugged him back loosely, his wings vanishing completely from existence again. Dean felt Castiel move from his side to approach the pair, could see the smaller, grey wings of the younger angel spreading out low and loose as if in submission.
Gabriel was possibly a little teary as he pulled himself away from Crowley and let out a long breath. Castiel was still coming to terms with it all, a frown on his face as his mind worked at lightspeed. He stood before Crowley and looked at him in light of this new reveal, tilting his head before finally opening his mouth to speak. "Azrael," he murmured lowly, and Crowley nodded his head once in confirmation.
"I prefer my new name," Crowley sighed and Castiel nodded in understanding. "Stop cowering." At Crowley's command, Castiel's wings pulled back up to fold against his back.
"I'm sure Sam would have a boner right now," Dean muttered, and everyone turned their gazes to him. He felt as if a spotlight had just been turned on him, and suddenly he felt incredibly small. He swallowed and licked his lips before continuing. "But… who are you?" Castiel was actually the one to answer, and, judging by Crowley's eye roll and Gabriel's impatient sigh, he was probably the only one who would explain this to him.
"He is Azrael, the archangel of death. We thought… we thought him dead a long time ago," Castiel turned to look at Crowley again, and the archangel cocked his head briefly as if to confirm that statement. That was all the information the young angel could offer, and so Crowley finished up the story.
"My job became a little too much, shall we say, and so I became a salesman." He grinned at that, rocking slightly on the balls of his feet. "Hanging out with Lucifer was a blast, obviously. He's so much more fun than Dad," he said as he looked to Gabriel. The other archangel only shrugged it off, and Dean knew that Gabriel loved his Father but sided with neither him nor Lucifer. "He got Hell all wrong, though, such a mess. I prefer a more… classy, approach. He's also a dick." Those were words they could all agree on, and Gabriel huffed his approval before moving to throw himself down on a sofa. Castiel hovered for a moment around Crowley before returning to Dean's side. It was all a lot of information to take in, and for now all Dean could do was stare at Crowley.
"So what… you took over from big brother and now… now you want to keep Hell?" Dean asked dumbly. Crowley shrugged in response.
"Of course, Hell's a good thing to have. You should come visit now, it's gone up in the world." Dean hated being played with, and threw a glare in Crowley's direction to try and convey that. The King of Hell merely grinned and turned his gaze back to Bobby, who was pawing over maps once again. "You'll strain your eyes," he said simply, and Bobby lifted his gaze to him with a look of mild annoyance on his face.
"My eyes are fine, for the last time," he grumbled, and Crowley simply grinned.
"I'll go and see who's up for a bloodbath. I'll be back later," the archangel purred before vanishing into thin air. Dean turned his stunned gaze to Bobby but the hunter was already looking back to his maps, a sign that conversation was really not on the table. Deciding that it was certainly better to leave it be, Dean ran a hand through his hair and looked to the angel that was stood beside him, face painted with contemplation. Castiel turned his head to look back at Dean, and his expression softened a little.
"Well I feel like we just got upgraded," Dean breathed. Castiel nodded gently and pursed his lips for a moment.
"We need to plan what will happen," the angel said. Dean also nodded, and went to sit down on the sofa Gabriel was not sprawled out on, running his hands over his face as he thought. Castiel sat beside him, resting his elbows on his thighs and letting his hands dangle loosely.
"Right, where do we start?" Dean sighed, looking from the angel beside him to the silent archangel opposite him. This was going to be a long day, and the sun had not even risen yet.
The only plan that seemed plausible was to gather as many people as they could and try to get to Sam. Gabriel had informed them that Sam, with Lucifer riding around in him, was surrounded by a host of demons and angels. Lucifer had opened another gate in Detroit and the whole city was either possessed or dead. The first gate had luckily slammed shut behind the devil, but with Lucifer on the surface the new one remained open. All they could think to do was try to get through Detroit to the devil, and somehow get him out of Sam's body. They would certainly need help to do that. Bobby started calling up hunters as soon as they decided their plan of action, and Gabriel and Castiel disappeared to go and round up some angels. They gave themselves two days to gather everyone they could, enough time to see if Sam could overpower the devil for a second time. Dean had a lot of faith in his brother, but somehow he knew they would be going to war with Heaven and Hell in two days.
Dean spent his time preparing. He pressed enough salt rounds for an army, started getting large barrels of holy water ready, and went about collecting every weapon that was lingering around the salvage yard (which was a lot). Castiel did not return the first night, and for the first time in a while Dean had to sleep alone. He opted for the sofa downstairs, lying so he could watch the moon creep across the sky. He missed the steady heartbeat of the angel and the warmth of his feathers. He hardly realised how much of a huge part of his sleeping pattern Castiel had become until he lay awake for many hours in the silent darkness of Bobby's house. He had been laid awake for about three hours when he heard the footsteps of the old hunter on the stairs, and a few seconds later Bobby appeared at the door. He had been trying to be quiet, but seeing Dean wide awake staring up at the sky through the window made it redundant. "You too?" he asked gruffly as he walked to his desk and picked up the bottle of whiskey, flicking on the lamp to brighten the room a little. Dean hummed his answer before turning his head to watch his adopted father.
"Do you think he's okay? I mean… other than the Lucifer thing. Do you think he knows what's happening?" Dean's voice was quiet and a little hoarse from the tears he had been swallowing down all day. It had been a horrible day of numbly preparing everything he could get his hands on, and the absence of Castiel had made it all the more painful. Being alone with his thoughts really never did any good for Dean. Bobby poured himself a glass and swirled it around thoughtfully for a minute.
"I think the devil's going to make it the worst experience of that boy's life," Bobby said glumly, and Dean almost cursed him for his honesty. The younger man rolled his gaze back to the night sky and took in a deep breath. He was so close to praying to his angel just so he could have some company. Things fell silent for a long while, until Bobby finally spoke again. "When was the last time you slept?"
"Last night, actually. You woke me up when you called," Dean sighed, adjusting himself for more comfort and resting his hands behind his head.
"Last night?" Dean nodded in confirmation, knowing where the conversation was going and hardly caring in the grand scheme of things. "I haven't slept right for a week, how the hell did you manage it with your brother missing?" Dean turned his head to look at Bobby again, the lamp casing a golden glow on the hunter's face but leaving his eyes in shadow beneath that ever-present cap. Dean could see the glint of his narrowed eyes, and he felt his chest constrict. He had thought Bobby already knew, and maybe he did, but the idea of actually coming out with it was making him incredibly nervous.
"Castiel," he muttered in response, throwing the angel's full name into the air in the hope that he would hear it, and as if to reply to his words he felt a small surge of warmth through him that could only be a reply to his half-hearted prayer. He drew in a deep breath and once again looked up at the stars that were slowly being blotted out by dark, ominous clouds. Bobby was silent, but Dean could still feel those eyes upon him. Whether they were judging him or studying him he had no idea, and he did not care to look and find out. "Wish he was here, instead of on that damn fool's errand." Dean had argued for a long time that trying to find angels that were still loyal to God and the good cause was a waste of time, but Castiel had been insistent. Now Dean was lying cold and alone and unable to sleep, when all he really wanted was the safe cocoon of the angel's wings so he could forget about Sam being used as a meat-suit by the devil.
"How long?" Bobby asked simply, and it was more curiosity than anger in his voice. Dean drew in a long breath and finally sat up, feeling his head swim with tiredness. He had been awake about twenty four hours and it was starting to get to his brain.
"Longer than I thought," he answered honestly. The feelings for the angel had been hanging around for a long time, and Dean had a hard time pin-pointing the exact time it had gone beyond simple friendship to a relationship where they would willingly die for each other. "Officially just a few days." Bobby ducked his head in a nod and took a sip of his drink.
"Well you're both as stupid as each other, must be a good match," he grumbled, placing his glass down and pulling a book towards him.
"Yeah, thanks, Bobby," Dean had to chuckle, gazing around idly around the room. He was relieved that the conversation had not gone too deep, that the old hunter was apparently perfectly accepting. Dean looked down at the floor, and that was when it caught his attention. It was sticking out from underneath the sofa, and in the darkness it was almost invisible other than a gentle sheen of blue. He reached down and plucked the large, black feather up from the floor, twirling it around in his fingers as he shot a sidelong glance at Bobby. The hunter was preoccupied. "So, Crowley, how did you know about him before the rest of the world?" The hunter grunted in response but did lift his eyes, gaze landing on the slender feather in Dean's hand and his jaw tightening.
"You boys aren't the only ones who have to patch up stupid angels," he growled lowly. Dean raised one eyebrow and twirled the feather again, staring Bobby down calmly.
"Well that's a twist," Dean smirked, finally tearing his gaze away to look at the feather. It gleamed in the warm light of the lamp, but it still kept its cold, blue sheen, as if it were reflecting a totally different spectrum of light. He still preferred Castiel's feathers.
"What else are you meant to do when they turn up bleeding and cursing?" Dean cocked his gaze back to Bobby and shrugged before standing up.
"Well when it's the King of Hell you generally tell him to go to Hell," he said calmly as he moved to the desk and placed the feather down across Bobby's book. He picked up the bottle of whiskey and turned to go find a glass. Bobby did not reply to him, moving the feather aside to continue his reading as Dean went into the kitchen. He tried to push back the idea that Bobby had touched Crowley's most sensitive spot, but somehow it was lodged in the front of his mind and he was not sure whether to bleach his brain or grin.
Hell shrieked and burned around him, and he was staring into the white eyes of Alastair. He was aware of the pain in his body, of the heat that was melting his skin away, but he was unable to scream. He choked on his own blood, on the sulphur thick in the air, on the rancid heat that burned his lungs. He was drowning and suffocating and his ears rang with the sounds of the millions of souls being tortured around him. The deal was offered again, and after all this time he just had to do it. He had to say yes.
Light flooded into Dean's vision and he gasped for air, reaching out his unchained limbs to grip onto something very familiar. He buried his fingers in the tan coat and sat up to bury his face in it too. He coughed and choked, feeling completely wretched. His skin felt like ice had been thrown onto it and his lungs were burning with the fresh air, but with every deep breath he managed to take he could smell the distinct scent of wet summer grass and the Earth's atmosphere. He felt strong arms around him along with warm wings and he sank forwards into the angel. He had no idea where he was, his eyes closed tight as he remained buried against the warm chest of Castiel, but he hardly cared as long as he was wrapped up in those wings. He knew he was safe. "I'm here," Castiel murmured, rubbing a hand slowly and gently up and down Dean's back. "I apologise, I should never have left you for so long." Dean took in a deep, shuddering breath and finally opened his eyes. The room was bright from the daylight streaming through the window and he had a hard time placing where he was and how he got there. He vaguely remembered talking to Bobby, and the old hunter insisting he tried to get some rest on a decent bed, and then he hardly remembered anything. He guessed the whiskey had taken a good effect, and at some point he had managed to get to the bedroom and collapse on the bed.
Dean moved back so he could look at the angel, taking in the usual dishevelled look he wore. His hair was ruffled in that way that made him always look like he had just climbed out of bed and his tie was askew. He also seemed tired, but that was a given after he had been flying around all over the place. "I missed you," Dean said hoarsely, loosening the death grip he had put onto the coat and moving his hand to rest against the angel's chest instead. Castiel smiled gently and let out a long breath.
"Well I'm here now. I won't be leaving again," he said quietly. He looked about ready to sleep for a day.
"How did it go?" Dean was curious, and hoping that he had not suffered his first nightmare in a long time for nothing.
"We found the last of my garrison, they are not faithful to Raphael. They have agreed to find more to aid our cause and meet us in Detroit," Castiel replied. Dean let out a long breath and nodded, leaning forward briefly to press a soft kiss to the angel's lips. Castiel returned it slowly and lazily, one of his hands tangling in Dean's hair and sending a shiver down his spine.
Dean pulled away after a moment and laughed dryly, causing the angel to tilt his head in question. "What are we doing, Cas?" Castiel only frowned at that, and Dean elaborated. "We're going to Detroit to face the devil, who is riding around in my brother, and we don't stand a chance," he said in a wavering voice. Castiel pursed his lips.
"We have to know we tried," he said calmly. It sounded like a good enough reason in Dean's head, and he had to say it was probably the only reason. They had no idea what they would find in Detroit. The news the previous day had said that it was the centre of a massive storm and most of its residents had either fled the city or were presumed dead. Lucifer's purge of humanity had started, and Dean was starting to think more and more that Sam really did not stand a chance. Castiel smoothed a hand through Dean's hair lightly, and Dean had to say he was a little taken aback by the increasing amount of very human gestures the angel was displaying. He searched the expanse of universe in Castiel's eyes and felt so lost, the warm touch of the angel keeping him grounded to Earth. "Azrael is due to arrive soon," Castiel muttered gently. Dean took a moment to place the name in his post-sleep state, and then nodded mutely as he remembered the archangel walking around as the King of Hell. Not for the first time it struck him that it must run in the family, the rebellious streak and the wish to hide away from Heaven. The archangels were creatures Dean did not even want to begin to understand.
Castiel stood from the bed and Dean reached out to grab his hand before he moved away. "Don't you need to sleep?" Castiel swayed slightly but shook his head, looking down at Dean calmly.
"I'll be fine. I am feeling stronger today," he replied quietly, and Dean bit his lip and nodded before standing also. He did not release Castiel's hand, however, and looked down at him with a steady gaze. "What?" Castiel asked as his brow furrowed into a small frown.
"You really should rest." Castiel tilted his head in what was only defiance and Dean sighed. "Just promise me you won't do much today," Dean pleaded gently. The angel considered it for a moment before nodding.
"There is little to do now but wait," he said quietly, and turned from Dean to leave the room. Dean released his hand and followed, his head feeling like it was full of fluff and the remains of yesterday's whiskey.
"I'll be there in a minute," he said to Castiel as he made a detour for the bathroom. The angel paused at the top of the stairs to nod and watch him move away before heading down, almost silent on the old steps.
Dean shut the bathroom door and took care of business before he pressed his hands against the sink, looking at his face in the dusty old mirror. He looked tired, despite sleeping. He guessed that if you felt like you were being flung back into Hell in your dreams, you never really rested much. He sighed and ran the cold tap, listening as the pipes rattled in protest. He caught water in his palms and splashed it up against his face, relishing the cool liquid as it washed away his sleep and refreshed him. He needed a shave, he noted as he ran his hands over his stubble, but he was far beyond caring about his appearance. He flicked the tap off and dried his face on a hand towel before heading downstairs.
There was a knock at the door just as Dean got to the foot of the stairs, and Bobby was already halfway to answering it. Dean watched as the door opened to reveal Crowley, along with a few others who could only be demons, and Bobby offered a hand out to the archangel. Crowley took it with a gentleness that Dean was not sure was his normal way or simply the way he was with Bobby and stepped into the house. The demons waited outside, the magic that Gabriel had put over the house was apparently a complete barrier to them, as the archangel made his way through into the library. Dean followed Crowley as Bobby said something to the demons outside and then shut the door. Castiel was stood near where Gabriel was sprawled out on the sofa he had brought into the house and they broke off their conversation as Dean and Crowley entered. Dean watched as Castiel's wings did the strange movement of subordination again in the presence of the archangel, but Gabriel merely offered a nod, his own wings only flaring out to make him look bigger. Brotherly love, it had a whole new context with angels. "Boys," Crowley greeted smoothly, hands shoved deep into his pockets as usual.
"Who's the entourage?" Dean asked calmly as he went to sit down on the free sofa. He felt the soft gaze of Castiel on him but did not look up, his attention fixed on Crowley. The archangel glanced over his shoulder as Bobby took his seat at the desk again and resumed whatever he was doing, most likely researching the best way to banish the devil, still, and then looked back to Dean.
"Call them my generals, if you will," he answered politely. "I just came to talk business, to help you come up with a plan that won't get us all killed." He did not sit, and that made Dean uncomfortable, so the hunter rose to his feet again and straightened his shirt out idly.
"What do you suggest?" Gabriel piped up from his spot, some marshmallow treat unwrapped in his hand. His golden eyes never lifted to his brother as he spoke. Crowley watched Gabriel for a long moment before speaking again.
"I have a set of demons who apparently couldn't care less if their endless torment actually did meet an end," he explained softly, the purr of his voice making him seem far too like a cat that was about to claw your face off. "They have offered to enter the city first. Test the waters, as it were." Dean nodded thoughtfully, looking to Castiel at last. The angel seemed to be taking it in but was far away from the conversation, his eyes distanced and his arms folded over his torso as he leaned against the wall. To his surprise, it was actually Castiel who spoke next.
"I can send angels around the perimeter. I do not think they will lose their power when they enter, it would be counter-productive for Lucifer's allies." His gaze slid to look at Crowley and he continued. "They can lead demon forces in and act as a distraction while we find Lucifer." Gabriel nodded in agreement and finally stood.
"I have something that will take Lucifer down if all else fails," he said quietly, and suddenly he produced an angel blade in his hand. It seemed like every other blade, and yet it was completely different somehow. "It's Michael's blade, Castiel's friend has sticky fingers," he explained, glancing up to his younger brother. Castiel nodded in agreement.
"Balthazar has acquired some… interesting items," Castiel sighed. "Michael's blade will kill Lucifer." Dean felt sick at the realisation of what that meant, and when he spoke to object his voice came out strained and faint.
"But… that means we have to… kill Sam, too," he said. It was Gabriel who nodded, his face grim and tense. He put the blade away again and sighed, and Dean could not help but think how utterly drained the archangel seemed.
"It might be our only choice," Crowley spoke up, and for once his tone was not dripping in sarcasm or sick joy at the idea. Dean was grateful, but it also sent a cold shiver down his spine. Crowley was still a demon to him, and it was hard to think of him as something that was impossibly powerful and incredible in every way.
"Where do the humans play into all of this?" Bobby spoke up from his desk. Castiel turned his attention to the old hunter and nodded in acknowledgement. It hit Dean then that Castiel was being the soldier he had been born and raised to be. It was sad in a way, but also incredible to see the way the angel took control of the whole situation with ease.
"The humans you have gathered should go in alongside the demons. Demons are powerless against angels, especially those higher up. We have secured a large amount of blades…" Castiel trailed off and suddenly seemed uneasy. Gabriel kindly finished for him.
"Raphael saw fit to wipe out a lot of disloyal angels. Their blades were saved, and we managed to get our hands on them. We can spread them out amongst your men, they will have a good defence against the angels then, especially with demon help." Bobby nodded in agreement. "I see you also prepared enough weapons to at least hold off enemy demons, that'll help a lot. We just need a delay. If we can stop Lucifer then their whole plan just goes to Hell, literally." Crowley cleared his throat and brought the attention back to him.
"We also need someone to close the gate to stop more of them joining the party. I would say I would do it alone, but I'm a pretty familiar face, I'd spend more of my time fighting them off," Crowley seemed to be directing his words to Bobby, and the hunter huffed to himself.
"I can do that. I'll go alone, maybe they won't notice," Bobby contemplated, and Crowley growled slightly in disagreement.
"I don't think so. I'll go with you, and you should bring some friends too," he insisted, and with his wings suddenly appearing on the plane angels normally kept them and flaring out, engulfing half the room in darkness, Dean had to admit it was hard to argue with him. Bobby actually seemed like he was about to bite back a response, but instead settled for narrowing his eyes at the archangel before looking back to his work.
"Well then," Dean said quietly, cutting through the tension that had suddenly seeped into the room. Castiel's wings were stretched down again in that annoying, submissive way and Gabriel was tense and uneasy, his own wings shifting around uncomfortably. Dean was starting to find the ability to sense angel wings a little disconcerting, especially in a room with a total of fourteen wings. Things could get incredibly claustrophobic, and it was bizarre to see the way Gabriel's wings simply moved through Castiel's, like ghosts. "I guess it's settled then. Sounds like we have a plan," he sighed. Again, it was not much of a plan, but if they could surround the area with their own forces of angels and demons then maybe they stood half a chance. "But one more thing, how will we know who's on our side?" Gabriel lifted his hand to show a strip of red ribbon hanging from his fingers.
"Everyone can tie some around their wrist, or their arm," Gabriel explained calmly. "I'll sort it tomorrow when we get everyone together." Dean nodded his agreement and sighed.
"Alright, good," he breathed, trailing a hand through his hair awkwardly.
"I'll go gather the troops," Crowley muttered, turning on his heel to leave, his wings shrinking back to nothing once again. Dean had to say he was impressed by the skill. The archangel left without another word, the door closing behind him. Dean let out a long breath, and Bobby finally looked up from his work.
"I've got about thirty hunters meeting us in Detroit," he explained, and Castiel ducked his head in response.
"Good," the angel replied softly. "They will be of great help." Dean edged a little closer to the angel and nudged him lightly.
"Hey, fancy going for a drive?" he asked quietly. Castiel turned his gaze to Dean and tilted his head.
"Why?" Dean felt eyes upon him but ignored the amused gaze of Gabriel and the silently observing eyes of the old hunter.
"I need to clear my head, and you need to rest." Dean's gentle insistence seemed to finally get through to Castiel, and the angel pursed his lips and nodded. "Okay, good, let's do that. We'll back in a bit," he shot a glance over to Bobby.
"Sure, just leave me here with mouth almighty," the hunter growled, and Gabriel laughed for the first time in a while as he threw himself back down on the sofa.
"Oh Bobby, you flatter me," he sighed as he conjured up a chocolate bar and started to expertly remove its wrapper, as if that were the best part about eating candy.
Dean and Castiel left them to it, stepping out into the cool October air after Dean had pulled on his boots. He had not bothered with a coat, trusting the Impala to warm up enough for him not to need it. It was getting towards midday, the sun nearly as high as it was going to get, but the air was still crisp and fresh. They pulled out of Bobby's place in comfortable silence, Castiel leaning up against the passenger door, his gentle breath clouding the cool window as he exhaled. Dean glanced to him now and then as he drove, enjoying the silent company. Somehow no words needed to be spoken, and Dean was glad of that. Not for a single moment did he want to talk about his feelings. He had had enough of talking and explaining things and trying to work out how he felt. There was something calming and comforting about the soft rumble of the Impala, the desolate road around them, and the quiet company of his angel.
Castiel fell asleep within about twenty minutes, as Dean predicted, but the Impala kept going. He had no idea really where he was driving to, following the same road for miles. He just needed to clear his head, and if he could make Castiel actually get the rest he needed at the same time then it was certainly worth it. His mind drifted to Sam as the trees rolled by on either side, and all he could do was think about how much he had screwed up for his little brother. The usual thoughts of how he should have protected Sam drifted into his head, and he tried to push them down. He had done all he could, and he was determined he was going to get his brother back. He was not ready to live life without him again. Watching him fall into the cage had been the last straw, and the idea of it happening again had shook Dean to his very soul. As luck would have it, something had pulled Sam back out last time, had protected him against all the thoughts in his mind and the memories of what Lucifer had done to him, but Dean would bet that it would not happen again. The first time had been lucky enough. He tried to switch his train of thought, looking over to the sleeping angel beside him and letting out a long breath. Castiel was everything that was right in his world, a perfect constant. Castiel was exactly what he needed.
Dean drove for hours, returning at around four in the afternoon. As he pulled up outside Bobby's, there were a few people lingering around outside. Dean knew immediately that they were not demons. They stood rigid and awkward, as if comfortable not doing anything but feeling like they should be doing something. Dean could also see shimmering wings appearing from each of them. They all had white wings, and Dean was struck not for the first time at how different Castiel was. He reached across to nudge his angel gently, and Castiel stirred with a small groan, sitting up just as the Impala drew to a halt. His blue eyes scanned over the small gathering of angels and he let out a steady breath. "That's my garrison," he explained quietly. "What's left of them." He moved to get out of the car and Dean followed the motion, straightening up to cast his eyes over the small gathering again. They were all watching, and Dean noticed the same odd curve downwards in their wings that Castiel showed in front of Azrael. The only angel that did not do this, Dean noted, was the one leaning up against one of the supports on Bobby's porch. He was different in nearly every way to the other angels, the soft glow of brown feathers folded down to his back instead of white. He was so casual that it actually impressed Dean. He reminded him a lot of Gabriel. "Balthazar," Castiel greeted calmly as they reached the bottom of the porch steps.
"Castiel," the angel greeted jovially, straightening up from where he had been leaning. "How lovely of you to join us." Castiel offered him a soft glare and Dean noticed how his feathers puffed up in response, if only briefly. Dean was starting to learn this whole wing language, and while it was a definite show of dominance it was also a somewhat friendly gesture.
"I had to accompany Dean," Castiel lied smoothly, and Dean did not miss the flicker of amusement on Balthazar's face.
"So I heard. We just stopped by to get the plan, but Gabriel won't speak." Dean found that very curious. It was rare for Gabriel's mouth to be closed for a second, but lately the archangel was becoming more and more reserved. Dean could not help but wonder at the cause, and had to say that if Gabriel had gone through anything like the torture Castiel had suffered then maybe the silence was understandable.
"Of course," Castiel answered politely, looking to Dean as he did so. "Shall we go inside?"
Dean helped both Castiel and Balthazar inside, and then went to get a well earned shower. Castiel's friend was certainly different. Dean also knew for sure that he was a friend. They acted easily around each other, as if they'd known each other an eternity; and Dean would wager that maybe it really had been that long. He thought it best to leave them to discuss their plans alone, with Bobby's aid. He was trying not to think of it too much, because the very idea of barging into Detroit and facing the devil wearing his brother like a dress was making him want to throw up.
By the time he returned downstairs, Balthazar was stood beside Castiel, finishing up their conversation. "I'll make sure they're ready. We found a few more hanging around with nothing to do, like a bit dropped off," he muttered. Castiel nodded, devoid of amusement, and in a flutter of wings Balthazar disappeared. Dean went to get a beer from the fridge in the kitchen, and when he returned Castiel was sat on the sofa, leaving plenty of room for him. Gabriel was quiet, his eyes closed and his arms across his chest, but Dean knew for sure he was not asleep. He appeared more deep in thought than anything, and it was a little creepy to Dean.
"Well, we all set?" Dean asked quietly before taking a swig from the bottle, the cool liquid soothing his throat. Castiel nodded silently and rested back against the sofa.
"Balthazar is clear of the plan. He will station an angel with each group of demons and hunters around the city." Dean looked to Castiel, curious.
"Why won't you be telling them what to do?" Castiel slid his gaze over to Dean and offered a small smile.
"I will, Balthazar is following my orders. I shall be at your side, however," he answered in a soft rumble. Dean held his gaze for a moment, not sure whether he was suddenly turned on by the devotion of the angel or how completely sexy he was when he took control of situations.
"You should take control more often," Dean mumbled, earning himself a loud cough from the older hunter. He looked up to Bobby as the man rose from his desk and started heading towards the kitchen. Dean waited until he was through the opening into the other room before shooting Castiel a small grin. The angel returned it with that special sort of smile that warmed Dean all the way through. Once again, Dean was glad he had Castiel.
Tomorrow could be their last day. Tomorrow they would face life or death, and Dean was starting to bet more on the death side of things. They would set off in the small hours of the morning on the fourteen hour drive it would take to get them to Detroit. Dean had opted for a very early night. He sat on the edge of his bed, staring out of the window at the starlit sky. He heard the shower cut off down the hall and smiled to himself. Castiel had really started to enjoy his showers, even now he was getting some of his power back. He had decided it was best to indulge in everything on the eve of battle, and that included a long, hot shower. He had told Dean that if he was happy, maybe his grace would be stronger, and then maybe he could protect them all with a greater ease.
The house was silent without the gentle patter of the shower. For a few minutes, Dean felt the familiar pang of loss knowing that his brother was not sleeping downstairs. He did not get to dwell on the feeling, however, as footsteps padded along the hallway outside and Castiel appeared at the door, Dean's old t-shirt hanging loosely from his shoulders and too-long joggers trailing on the floor. He was towel drying his hair, a look of pure contentment on his face as he moved to sit beside Dean. "Better?" Dean knew his voice came out much quieter than he had intended, but he forced a smile as Castiel turned those ocean-blue eyes to him and actually grinned for the first time in days.
"Much. I think I shall keep indulging in showers for the rest of my eternity." His voice was a low rumble, a sound that sent chills straight up Dean's spine. The closer he had got to the angel, the less he was analysing everything. It had been a long time since anyone had created such a reaction in him, and yet Castiel was not just anyone. The moonlight in those pale eyes made it all the more evident, and Dean felt very humbled again. Castiel's grin was infectious, and Dean found himself grinning too, despite wondering in his mind how long Castiel's life would really be. Tomorrow they would face the end one way or another.
"You should indulge in other things too," he said mischievously, causing a quirk of the brow from Castiel and a puzzled smile. It was a very human expression, and once more Dean was taken aback slightly by the changes in the angel.
"And what things might those be?" He tossed the damp towel over onto the other bed and Dean noticed how effortless that was, one smooth, sweeping motion that sent the item easily through the air. Castiel moved like liquid. Dean placed a hand against Castiel's cheek, marvelling as his eyes darted down curiously towards the hand, ever wondering what was happening, always learning. It was something, among the many things, that he loved about the angel. Despite his vast knowledge of the world and how it worked, small gestures were new to him, and he drank them all in like an angelic sponge. His eyes were back on Dean now, and he felt the warmth build up inside him as a smile crept onto his face once more.
"You remember when I said I wouldn't let you die a virgin?" Castiel grinned again at that, nodding and closing his eyes briefly.
"It didn't end very well, if I remember correctly," he said gently, but with a hint of amusement. Dean laughed and shook his head hand slipping lower to rest on the skin between the angel's neck and shoulder, thumb idly rubbing against the smooth surface. Castiel shuddered at that, but did not move away from the touch.
"I'm still not letting you die a virgin." For a moment Castiel seemed lost, eyes searching Dean's face before he offered his best smile.
"And what makes you think it'll go any better this time?"
"Because this time I'm directly involved, and I'm awesome. Besides, the other night wasn't so bad, right?" Dean said gently, feeling the gentle pulse of warmth and power radiate from the angel at those words. He saw the shadow of his wings flutter ever so slightly, and a bashful expression on Castiel's face to express his agreement at that. "Trust me."
"To the end." His words sank deep into Dean and it was all he could do to stop himself from crying like the emotional wreck he was to lean forward and press his lips to Castiel's. The angel responded gently, twisting to face him and pushing himself forward, always so responsive, and Dean was aware of a hand snaking around his neck. He could feel the dull sense of arousal stirring deep inside and he pushed it down for now, sliding a hand down his angel's chest until he reached the hem of the battered old t-shirt. Castiel hummed happily into the kiss, and Dean was reminded how creepily experienced the angel was as his mouth was coaxed open by a gentle tongue. He met the probing tongue with his own, and slipped his hand easily beneath the t-shirt, tracing the line of his pants for a moment before seizing the fabric of the shirt and tugging it upwards. It had occurred to him what he wanted to do, and it appeared to have occurred to the angel too as he eagerly helped Dean to remove his shirt. It was tossed to one side before Dean turned and hooked his hands beneath Castiel's thighs, pulling him easily over onto his lap. Despite all that power bubbling inside, Castiel was light, barely a weight on his legs as he straddled Dean and draped his arms around his neck loosely.
Dean was not fighting his arousal any more, and it was painfully evident against the fabric of his jeans, but he took his time. His rough fingers made a trail up his angel's spine, causing Castiel to arch forward against him and break the kiss to let out a gentle moan and bury his face in Dean's neck. Dean smiled as his hands finally reached the prominent bone structure of Castiel's shoulder blades and he felt feathers, soft like a breeze against his skin. Castiel bucked against him slightly as Dean trailed his fingers through the fluffy plumage, touching gently against the bone structure and membrane beneath them. One hand rested protectively against the small of Castiel's back as the other ran along the feathers one by one. He could feel a mouth hot against his neck, trailing kisses along his throat and down to his collarbone, and it was his turn to moan as he pressed his forehead to Castiel's shoulder. He had not known he needed this, but he most certainly did need it.
He separated his fingers and slipped a feather between each before sliding his hand all the way down to their tips, and the response was incredible. Castiel bit down lightly, pushing himself impossibly closer to Dean and releasing a noise that Dean was sure was beyond human ability. The sound went straight to his groin and he hissed lightly, scrunching his eyes closed and repeating the gesture. The wings flared wide and brushed the walls on either side of the small room, the feathers shuddering and rustling with pleasure, and Dean could feel the small body on top of him practically vibrating.
Castiel actually growled at him, a soft noise at the back of his throat, but most definitely a growl. Dean had managed to turn an angel on again. The wings flared again and suddenly Dean was looking at possibly the most beautiful thing he had seen in his entire existence. Castiel was looking right at him, hips pressed lightly to his own and hands placed against his chest, but his eyes… his eyes sent shivers straight down Dean's spine, and Dean realised this was the first time he had really looked at Castiel in the eyes in these heated moments, realised that when he had brought the angel to climax a few nights ago that he had not seen the true response. The rims of his irises were glowing gently, a pale light that could have been mistaken for moonlight if Dean had not known Castiel so well. He had spent many hours gazing into those eyes, and they were definitely glowing. The pale blue light was entrancing, and all Dean could do was stare up at his partner as he was slowly pushed down to the bed, the wings above him covering them in a stunning canopy of shimmering grey feathers, illuminated by the moonlight filtering in through the window.
All he could do was stare into those eyes and feel himself suddenly drifting away as Castiel smiled down at him, an honest smile of affection. Dean placed a hand against the angel's cheek, and had to admit he was slightly disappointed as those shimmering eyes closed against the touch. His disappointment was soon squashed by a pair of gentle lips against his own, and suddenly he just did not have a care in the world. He wrapped his arms up around his angel, one placed just beneath the base of his grand wings as the other slipped down to his waist. He really, desperately needed this, and, judging by the hardness pressed against his stomach, the feeling was mutual.
He moaned into the mouth that was against his as a hand moved down his chest towards the waistline of his jeans. He bucked his hips up, but Castiel placed a hand firmly but gently to his stomach and held him down, before letting his fingers slip towards the fastening of the jeans. Dean had never wanted anything so bad in his life, or at least that was the thought that ran through his head then. Castiel made short work of the button and the zipper, as if he had been practicing or something, and Dean let out a deep moan as he arched up at the soft touch that now ventured down towards his underwear, glad the constriction of his jeans had been removed and also begging for that hand to go in and do something. It did not, at least not for now, and then the angel was tracing kisses down his throat again.
Dean felt soft hand tug at the hem of his shirt, and he removed his hands from the angel to remove the item of clothing. He returned to hugging Castiel tight to him as soon as he could as the kisses continued on down his throat and across his collarbone. Dean closed his eyes and let out a long sigh. It was soothing and comforting and he never wanted it to end. He slipped a hand through soft feathers and the angel hummed softly against his skin, sending a shiver all the way down his spine. The kisses reached his hip bone and he drew in a long breath as fingers took hold of his jeans and slid them down. It was slow and only made him impossibly more aroused. He had never imagined Castiel would take the lead in such a situation, and yet here he was happy to let it happen. With his jeans and then his underwear discarded easily, Castiel could trail kisses all the way up Dean's thigh, making him tremble and moan out rather loudly.
Dean's legs were still hanging off the edge of the bed and Castiel was kneeling on the floor, and Dean could not help but think of the thousand ways he wanted this to go. As he felt hot lips against his throbbing manhood it was all he could do to not cry out and wake the whole house, arching up off the bed again and taking in a few generous gulps of air. The kisses were agonisingly slow all the way up his length, and then suddenly he had an angel on top of him again, straddling him easily, shimmers of light flickering in those oceans of blue that he just wanted to drown in. Dean pushed himself up onto his elbows and pulled Castiel in for a kiss as he moved up onto the bed. Castiel moved with him, fluid in motion as he crawled along the bed. Dean felt his head meet the pillow and relaxed down, wrapping his arms snugly around the angel and pulling him in closer. Castiel was lavish with his kisses, mouth gentle and yet somehow firm against his own, tongue running along the roof of his mouth before playing with his tongue. Dean had no idea how he was so skilled, and he really did not care.
It was a far cry from the need that had driven him to the blowjob a few days prior. It was relaxed and languid and Dean felt no rush for it to go any further. They kissed for what seemed like an age, hands exploring every each of the other's body. Dean managed to remove Castiel's slacks and underwear after prising him away for just a minute, and he was now amazed at how well the angel slotted between his legs. He groaned out a choice selection of words as Castiel nipped at his ear, the hand he had placed near Dean's head gripping lightly at the pillow as the other pressed lightly against the mark he had left when he had raised Dean from the depths of Hell. It pulsed with a faint recognition, a warmth that spread right through him. Castiel planted kisses down his neck, and that was when he felt the hand from his shoulder move down his chest and over his stomach, fingers like electricity against his skin. He gasped out and rocked upwards towards the weight above him, but as before he was held down gently to the bed.
He knew the angel was just as aroused as he was, he could feel it pressing against his own arousal, and yet he held on as those fingers slid calmly down. "Cas," he growled out as the hand rested right beside where he wanted it to be, heat seeping from the palm. "You are such a- oh shit!" Any insult he had been about to throw was stamped down by the warm hand gripping him lightly, so lightly it might have not happened, but Dean knew it was there. He could feel it hot and steady against him and he pulled Castiel in for a kiss again, tangling his fingers into his hair as he felt the steady movement start up, tugging him gently and yet so precisely. It was a whole new world of pleasure and he found himself pushing up into the hand that was pleasuring him, trying to set some sort of rhythm. He found Castiel could not be swayed, sliding his hand down to meet his pelvis and pushing him down into the bed. The angel was certainly in control. He returned back to his movement, fingers moving lightly but a little faster, his thumb finding the most sensitive parts possible and pushing every ounce of pleasure out of them.
Dean moaned into the kiss but held Castiel tight against him, gripping at his hair probably a little too tight. Castiel did not seem to mind, in fact he moaned himself, the vibration travelling straight through Dean. "Cas… Cas I- shit, God," Dean broke the kiss to gasp out a string of incoherent words, and if Castiel heard the blasphemy he paid no heed to it. Instead he slid his hand down from the throbbing mess that was Dean's erection and moved to find his entrance. Dean had not hesitated to think about this before, not bothered to wonder what this was actually going to be like, and suddenly all those thoughts exploded into his mind. "Shouldn't you do something first," he breathed, and was only met by a grin and warm breath against his ear.
"I'm an angel, Dean," his voice was low and soft and Dean simply closed his eyes and took a long, deep, trembling breath.
"I noticed," he breathed, before groaning loudly a second later as he felt the invasion. It was warm and somehow nowhere near as bad as he had just thought, something easing the friction and the burn. In fact, he found himself wanting more and more, rocking his hips down against the invading force and gasping gently. "Fuck," he growled as the angel toyed with him, withdrawing his finger slightly only to push it back in and curl it upwards slightly. A string of obscenities left Dean's mouth as he tangled his fingers back up into dark hair and dragged Castiel in for another kiss.
The angel moaned lightly against his mouth and suddenly there was another finger joining the first, and Dean thought he was going to lose it there and then. He had to break the kiss for air, breath coming out ragged and heavy. Castiel occupied his mouth by kissing along Dean's jaw and throat again, nipping at the soft skin there and dragging another groan out of Dean. "Hurry the… fuck up," Dean managed to say, rocking his hips towards the hand again and being rewarded with a third finger. He scrunched his eyes shut and was glad of the small amount of energy he could feel radiating from the angel, soothing the burn of the penetration, pulsing through every nerve ending down there and making it all the more incredible. "Cas, shit, Cas," he groaned, trying to push even closer to Castiel. The angel's breath was hot on his neck, a stark contrast to the cool sweat that was forming on his entire body. Suddenly the fingers were gone, leaving him feeling cold and wanting, and he groaned out a protest as he pushed his hips up against Castiel's. This time the movement was allowed, and he felt a firm hand hitch him up slightly. Desperate thoughts crept up about whether he was ready for this or not, whether it was really what he wanted, and then he met Castiel's gaze and they were all suddenly drowned. It was like looking at moonlight through water, a shifting, shimmering light, dancing around the large dilated pupils. It was something he could only assume was Castiel's grace bubbling away just beneath the surface, building along with the pleasure. He was disappearing into those eyes, breath tight in his chest and coming out in small pants. He felt the pressure first, gentle against him but firm, and he managed to keep his eyes open, determined to see the reaction to this.
He could feel the shuddering breath of the angel on his skin, and his own heart racing and feeling as if it would burst from his chest. He let one hand rest on the nape of Castiel's neck, the other just below his wings, and he braced himself. Castiel pushed forward smoothly, and Dean felt that small pulse of power easing the way, making everything slick and soothing the burn to only leave pleasure behind. He moaned deeply, a sound that felt like it rose from the pit of his stomach, and threw his hand up to the angel's wing. He buried his fingers deep in the feathers until he felt the soft, warm membrane underneath. It was Castiel's turn to groan loudly, a sound that was accompanied by what could only be described as a drop in pressure in the room. Castiel pushed in gently until he was entirely inside Dean, and only then did Dean dare to breathe again, gasping loudly, his lungs begging for air. He pulled the angel closer, pressing their lips together once more as he rocked his hips in a sign he was ready, hooking one leg around Castiel to draw him in closer.
The angel actually whimpered into the kiss, rocking his hips backwards again before sliding forwards gently. He set a steady, smooth motion, and of course it was as fluid as everything else he did. Dean's grip tightened on the wing and the feathered perfection above him fluttered and shivered, the rustling of feathers joining in with the soft noises of rough breathing. Castiel's eyes were closed as he drew away from the kiss and buried his face against Dean's neck, wings closing in against his back as he moaned out Dean's name into his skin. Dean pushed his hands back into that soft, brown hair and opened his mouth in a silent moan as Castiel rocked into him smoothly, evenly and perfectly. Everything about him was perfect. He pushed his hands through the long flight feathers of the angel's wing, taking advantage of them being folded. They arched up to aid the touch at the surge of pleasure caused by Dean's fingers trailing down from the base to the tip of several flight feathers.
Dean lost track of time as they rocked together, Castiel's hips fluid against him, setting an infuriatingly slow pace that only made his pleasure grow with each smooth thrust. Dean gasped and moaned and groaned with each push of pleasure, each pulse of energy from Castiel's grace. Their skin was coated in a fine layer of sweat, their breaths deep and ragged. Dean gripped onto his angel's wings with one hand and the sheets with the other, at least until one of Castiel's hands found his and tangled their fingers together, supporting his weight with his other hand as he leaned in for a kiss. Dean gripped Castiel's fingers tight, so much that it would be painful to any normal creature, but Castiel tightened his grip in return.
In real time it was not long until Dean felt himself building towards his climax, and yet it felt like they had been entangled for an eternity. Castiel's hypnotic yet firm rhythm had driven Dean closer and closer to the edge, and now he was standing right on it. He called out the angel's name into the cool air of the room, and was rewarded with quicker, more powerful thrusts. Dean understood then why the slow rhythm had been set before, as Castiel started to build up towards his own climax. His breath came out shorter and sharper as he pushed up and back onto his heels, dragging Dean closer towards him. Seeing the angel in such a state was almost enough to finish Dean there and then, but he focused on those eyes, shimmering with pleasure, and managed to teeter on the edge just for a little longer. They were both standing on a cliff, ready to fall. Castiel's wings flared out wide behind him, silver-grey feathers shimmering as they fluttered in the moonlight. Dean reached out blindly for a hand and caught the one that was clutching at his hip. He knotted their fingers back together and threw his head back as Castiel leaned a little more forwards, pushing his free hand into the bed beside Dean. "Fuck… fuck, fuck, fuck," Dean hissed through the pleasure, barely catching his breath as he felt himself starting to fall. He knew his angel was right there with him, feeling the pressure drop again in the room and a pulse of energy surging through him. He climaxed desperately, thrusting his hips back against Castiel as he felt the warmth of his own seed against his stomach. Almost at the same time he felt the surge inside him from the angel, shooting straight through his veins and lighting up his nerves, and heard the deep, primal moan. It almost made him topple over again, his fingers tightening their grip on Castiel's hand as the angel sank into him one last time before collapsing forwards.
Castiel supported his weight on a shaking arm above Dean, opening his eyes to gaze down at the man beneath him. Dean gazed up at him wide-eyed and utterly spent, mouth open as he gasped for air. "The fuck, Cas," he breathed as he regained a bit of himself. "Where did you learn that?" He quirked an eyebrow and received a genuine smile from the quivering angel that was still inside him.
"I do things in my spare time, Dean. I made it my own personal mission to learn everything about you," he said gently, the light that had been so vivid in his eyes starting to fade away as his breathing began to settle.
"Everything?" Dean frowned but was still smiling. Castiel nodded and placed a soft, lingering kiss on Dean's lips.
"I have an intimate knowledge of your internet history." Dean's eyes widened at that and he met the ever-so-slightly smug gaze of the angel.
"I really have to teach you about personal space again."
"You don't seem to mind me invading it right now." He wished he had never taught the angel free will sometimes, never encouraged him to talk back. However much he wanted to be mad right now, to be shocked that Castiel was actually coming up with something witty, all he could do was kiss him again and gently slide him out before rolling him so they were side by side. Castiel kept his wings out, Dean was pleased to notice, and stretched one out behind him so it was not pinned against the bed before bringing the other over their bodies to wrap around them. The feathers were warm like a gentle summer breeze against Dean's skin and he grinned as he slid one arm underneath the wing and around the angel's waist. Castiel was cooling off, his skin moist from his exertions, and Dean let his hand run slowly up and down Castiel's side as he gazed into those deep pools of blue. They were back to their normal colour now, only with a small rim of light at the edges as if to express his happiness.
They barely fitted on the small single bed, but intertwined together as they were they hardly cared. Castiel had one leg rested between Dean's and the rest of him was pressed lightly against his lover. Dean could feel him trailing patterns on his chest, fingers warm and soft against his cool skin. He felt the touch trace his muscles, as if mapping out every aspect of his body. He took this chance to examine the angel a little more closely, eyes sweeping down over the well-toned yet slender torso that rested half against him, turned away slightly so the moonlight caught the damp skin and lit it up. Castiel was beautiful in the moonlight, reminding Dean yet again that he really was something else. He let his fingers slide across the angel's skin, his head propped up on his arm with Castiel's head against his chest. His fingers ran over Castiel's prominent collar bone before sliding over his smooth chest, his eyes taking notice of the mark just above his right nipple, a mole or a freckle of some sort.
He paused a moment to contemplate that a creature of such perfection carried such small things that would be seen as a blight. Yet he admired it. Castiel would not be Castiel without his quirks, without his imperfections. He was no longer a mindless machine, a soldier of the lord with no purpose but to follow orders. He was imperfect in the eyes of Heaven, and yet to Dean he was perfect in every way. Castiel murmured something against Dean's chest as Dean let his hand slide gently down to the angel's waist again, little breaths of air touching his skin in the form of feathers. He was comfortable with Castiel's wings wrapped around him, and yet he was not ready to just fall asleep there and then. Apparently Castiel was, however. Dean felt him heave a gentle sigh and rock a little closer, wrapping an arm protectively over Dean to accompany his wing. Dean would let him sleep, would watch over him until the morning came. Tomorrow could be their last day, and he could think of no other way he would like to spend his last night other than curled up with his angel.