"In order to fly, your wing movements must be second nature. Like breathing, you will know there is movement, but you will be able to perform other tasks." Castiel said, stretching out his wings.
"Okay, I can do that." Dean said, coping Castiel's movement. A thin sheen of sweat coated Dean's forehead, a sign of his concentration and exertion.
"Sam and Bobby are watching us." Castiel said. Dean's wings pulled in as he turned around. He glared at the two heads in the window, and felt his wings puff out. Sam's head disappeared from the window, before the front door opened.
"Hey, want some lunch?"