Dean is happy. His brother got married and made a name for himself in the legal world and Dean's car shop is doing great. Dean is happy. Everything is perfect and he is happy. Maybe a little lonely, but still, happy as a cucumber.
Feeling a little selfish, one night he makes a wish upon a falling star, for the universe to give him someone to care about, someone to care for him. A companion. But the universe remains quiet for now.
Just before dawn, he feels a slight tremor, like an earthquake and then there is a loud bang coming from his backyard. When he finally goes to investigate, there is a huge ass crater in his flower garden and a rolled up ball of black, singed feathers smack in the middle of it. By all accounts, it would seem that the falling star fell right into his backyard.
The feathers shake as Dean slowly slides down the dirt to get closer. They are heavily damaged and some are even scattered around, but there are still so many of them that Dean can't see what's hiding underneath.
His first thought is a bird, because of the wings, of course, but when he thinks it over, he realizes there is no way a bird could make a crater like this, no matter how big it is. This didn't fall from the sky. This fell from outer space. That has to be it, right?
As Dean takes a few tentative steps closer, trying to get his breathing under control and not seem scared, he thinks that maybe he should be trying to sooth whatever hides under those giant wings. But he just can't find the words.
Suddenly, the feathers move and there is a bright blue eye, staring at him. The color is so strange, so vibrant, that despite it seeming like it belongs to a human being, Dean instantly knows it in fact does not. Yet it doesn't stop him from reaching forward, reaching to touch the shaking creature before him.
He hears a series of gasps as the creature tries to curl away from him and Dean knows he has to try and calm it down somehow.
"Hey, hey, no, it's okay. It's okay, I won't hurt you," his tone is the gentlest he could make it, low and soft while his eyes try to convey that he just wants to help. It must have worked because the creature slowly starts to relax, just enough to start breathing properly, but not enough to put its guard down.
"I promise I won't hurt you, I am just trying to help. Are you hurt?" Dean asks, hoping to earn a sliver of trust so that the creature doesn't attack him or something. He's not really sure it can even understand him.
His calm demeanor seems to do the trick as the creature slowly unfurls its wings. One does seem to be injured, as it not only stands at an awkward angle, but the creature also hisses at it when it moves.
"Hey, um, it's pretty cold out here… How about we move inside and I can help you with that?" Dean motions towards the house and then towards the creature's injured wing, hoping that it won't interpret it as Dean trying to lure him into the house and cook him for dinner or something (God knows what its thinking right now).
Blue eyes track his motions before looking over at the house, then back at Dean. There is a flicker of something in those radiant blues, but Dean can't pinpoint what it is. Recognition? No, why would the creature know his home? Understanding perhaps?
It is a bird-like thing, so maybe it understands this is Dean's nest and he is inviting it inside? Well, whatever works. (Not that Dean has any idea why he's inviting the creature into his home or why he is so eager to help, when he doesn't even know if the thing is dangerous.)
The creature slowly starts to stand and lets its wings fall behind and… It isn't an 'it' at all.
Sure, there is a white cloth (diaper? Is it a cupid?) around his nether regions, but the rest of him is tall, broad, muscular and definitely male. At least by human standards. And naked. Really naked. Miles of toned, smooth skin and rippling muscles all out there on display. Except that little part covered with the cloth. (Such a crime).
I mean, that's the body Michaelangelo's David would be envious of.
The creature, he, cocks his head to the side, looking adorable and most likely confused by Dean's sudden lack of motion, blinking and breathing too, so Dean snaps out of it. He doesn't know anything about him yet, and it's really stupid to get hung up on something as the creature's appearance.
"F-follow me. C'mon." Dean gestures with his hand and starts to back up slowly, making sure the creature is following. His wings drop almost all the way behind him, the right one sticking out a little where it is injured, but the creature doesn't seem to mind as it actually follows Dean.
He seems more curious than afraid now, looking all around the living room as he enters, and it seems as though his eyes are constantly drawn to the TV that Dean turned on last night and completely forgot about. He is in fact so immersed in it that he doesn't notice that Dean has stopped and nearly collides with him. They end up very close and personal and Dean catches the scent of ozone and freedom (is that a scent?) permeating the air around the guy. Huh.
Eyes as blue as sapphires reflecting the sunlight stare into Dean's and he can't, for the life of him, look away. There are a good few minutes where they just stand there, gaze into each other's eyes and share their breaths and just when Dean starts to think how insane this whole thing is, he feels something soft brush against his arm.
He startles, but doesn't flinch away, only looks down to his bare arm where the tip of the wing is touching it.
It feels big. It feels monumental.
So Dean swallows thickly and does what he does best. He deflects.
"So, how about that…wing of yours?" he almost says 'that game last night' before he catches himself. But the injured wing is something that should be looked at, at least. So Dean pulls out a chair and gestures to it. "Okay, um… Can you sit here while I look at it?"
The guy's eyes fall on the offered chair and for a second his brows crease, like he has no idea what is the purpose of the thing. But as Dean gestures to its flat, yet upholstered surface, the guy seems to figure it out. The slow way he sits on it is completely ridiculous, as if he expects it to bite him on the ass or something, but then the next minute there is a small, barely there quirk of his lips and Dean's mind goes completely offline.
They spent a few minutes staring at each other. Again.
"The wing, right." Dean snaps out of it first, but then he is almost drawn back in because there is that smile again, the guy seems amused and a little… smug? about the whole situation and Dean is just… Blown away.
Somehow, Dean finds himself in his bathroom, filling a wash bowl with lukewarm water, clutching a first aid kit under his arm all the while staring at his reflection in the mirror. What the hell is he doing?
He's got a bird man, no, a creature in his living room and he is about to-what? Wash his wings and help fix him up? And then what?
Well, he could offer him something to eat and to drink… Oh, he should have offered the guy some water, he must be parched.
Wait, backtrack for a second.
What the hell is he doing?
He's lost his marbles, that's what! Logically he knows how dangerous this must be, to have a stranger in the house, someone, some thing he has no idea what's it capable of. Logically, he knows he should call the cops or animal control and let them deal with the bird man that fell from the freaking sky (Jesus, there is an actual crater in his backyard!).
Yet… There is this feeling, deep down in his stomach, that is telling him the guy in his living room won't harm him, quite the opposite, actually. Dean feels incredibly drawn to him and it is insane. He never really felt such an attraction before. It's not sexual (though there are some elements of it too), it's much deeper than that. But he has no idea what it is or why or how it is there.
Still. His gut never led him astray, so he should follow his instincts now too. Right?
The guy is still sitting on the chair Dean provided, trying and failing not to crane his head to look at the TV. Whatever he is, he has certainly never seen television before and seems to find it fascinating. Dean should probably switch those cartoons to something more… Adult like. Not that there's anything wrong with Looney Tunes.
Dean places the bowl next to the chair and rounds the guy, motioning for the bowl first and then showing him the first aid kit . "I am going to clean you up a little first, because you're all caked in mud, and then I am going to try and fix that wing, okay?"
Honestly, with the amount of dirt on this guy, Dean wonders if he should just take him to the bathroom and into the shower. Still, it doesn't seem like a good idea to crowd the guy right now. He doesn't even seem to understand what Dean is saying. This could turn into a disaster real quick if he's not careful. The worst thing is - it seems like that wing is going to need a splint.
Dean takes a deep breath and looks at the bird-guy again. Those piercing blue eyes stare back at him, sparkling with life and something…magical? Dean doesn't know what it is, but he is sure there is no fear in them, no mistrust and it baffles him a little. Dean should be freaking out, but he isn't and apparently neither is this guy, so they should be good, right? Okay, best get to work.
First thing Dean does is move the chair a little bit so that the guy can see the TV. He'll take all the distraction he can. And while Bugz and Daffy are arguing over what hunting season it is, Dean moves behind the guy and crouches down, as it seems to be the best position to reach the whole wing (and he might look less intimidating too). He wets the cloth he brought along and then reaches for the wing with a slow and steady hand. Takes a breath and presses the cloth against the upper part, where the wing bends downward.
Dean freezes as the guy winces, but as he doesn't move away, or, you know, rips Dean's head off, Dean tries again. It goes better the second time. Slowly, he brushes the dirt and the mud off the feathers, leaving them clean, if a little dull, but certainly better off than they were before. As he works, he notices some are singed and some almost completely burnt. Those seem to be quite loose, so Dean tries really hard to be gentle.
When one falls off, Dean sucks in a gasping breath.
The sound makes the guy turn and for a brief second Dean meets his soul-penetrative confused gaze before it drops to the ground, to the feather that lies there, motionless. Dean holds that breath, scared for what the creature before him might do, but the guy only looks back up to Dean with a calm expression and then… Flutters his wings.
The mud splatters around on the ground, followed by about three dozen feathers slowly descending down over them.
Okay, so… The guy's molting. Like birds do, right. He'll probably grow new feathers, or at least Dean hopes he will. Not like he knows much about birds or molting or wings in general. But this does make his job a little easier. So he gets back to it, shaking off that feeling of unease over the guy's possible reaction to the lost feather. He didn't mind and he didn't flip over it, so it is all good.
And so Dean works. He changes the water in the bowl a few times in the process, but it's worth it to see those majestic wings restored to their former glory. Well, almost, they should be more shiny, but Dean doesn't know how to obtain that shine. Heck, he doesn't even know how he knows they are supposed to look. Weird.
Dean disregards the spark of curiosity and focuses on running the water soaked cloth over the wings one last time, to purge them of every last speck of dirt in hopes of seeing them shine. It doesn't work, not to the extent Dean wanted it to, but at last, the wings are clean.
Glancing at the clock for some unexplained reason, Dean realizes he has been at it for nearly an hour, and starts to wonder about how the guy's doing. He's been sitting there calmly, maybe a little stiffly the entire time. Maybe Dean should check up on him?
Those clear-water blue eyes take his breath away again, but this time they are a little wider, bigger, rounder. The guy's cheeks look rosy, a beautiful flush expanding all the way down his chest. The sight makes Dean's heart beat just a little bit faster. His cheeks begin to heat up, but then he notices how the guy's fingers are digging into his thighs and he knows that can't be comfortable.
Dean has no idea what he has done to make the guy uncomfortable, but he hopes a distraction would get the guy's mind off whatever it was. "W-would you like some water?"
The guy keeps on staring at him with those round eyes and for a second, Dean thinks the guy might tackle him or something. Then he remembers he might not understand what Dean's saying.
So Dean scurries off to the kitchen, which is actually part of the open floor along with the dining and the living room. It's a good thing because he can keep an eye on the guy while still staying in his sight. Transparency feels like a good idea right now. He fills a glass with tap water and brings it over.
The bird guy looks at it and back at Dean and a flicker of confusion passes his facial features, like he doesn't know what he's supposed to do with it. Or maybe he just doesn't know what a glass is.
Dean decides it would be a good thing to show him. "Like this, see?" He presses the edge of the glass to his lips and takes a sip, then extends the glass towards the guy again. And the dude just stares at it some more.
"Would-would you like to try?" Dean asks and moves the glass slowly towards the guy until he reaches his lips, then tips it just enough to let the cool liquid touch the guy's lips. Those vibrant blues go wide as saucers before the guy snatches up the glass and downs the content is a blink of an eye.
Dean lets out a chuckle, feeling himself relax a little. "More?" He asks as he extends his hand, silently asking the guy to give him the glass back. A smile lingers on his face as the bird guy tightens his hold for a second, not wanting to return the glass and clearly debating with himself over what he should do. Eventually he gives the glass up and perks up when he sees Dean go into the kitchen again.
He downs the second glass too.
"Okay, okay… How about you let me take a look at that wing and try to fix it up a little and then we could get you some more water, maybe even a bite to eat? Would you like that?" As he talks, Dean mimics his actions, pointing at the wing and the first aid kit first and then at the glass and his own mouth second, hoping that the guy will understand him, at least to a degree.
He gets a squint for his troubles.
But then the guy glances at the glass Dean left on the coffee table and just breaths for a few moments before looking back at Dean. He says nothing and he doesn't move, so Dean figures he might as well give his plan a shot.
The bird guy doesn't flinch at all this time when Dean touches his wing, but he does wince and hiss when Dean hits a sore spot. There is no blood anywhere, which Dean hopes is a good sign, but looking over the two wings, he thinks he can see some swelling on the right one. It is just as he originally thought, it needs a splint.
As he works, he hears the guy hiss and suck in small breaths, but it seems like he is trying to contain his sounds. It really must hurt.
"Alright, all done. Now what do you say we move to the kitchen and… oh god!" The moment Dean rounds back to face the guy he is stopped by the heartbreaking sight. Those full lips are pressed together in a small pout and there are tear tracks running down the guy's cheeks. His eyes are filled with tears, making the blue of his irises very prominent. "Oh, shit, I'm sorry."
Dean tries to reach out, but stops short of touching the guy. His hands haven't provided any comfort so far and he didn't want to make things worse.
"I'm so sorry, I didn't mean… I had to wrap your wing up, so that it could heal, but I didn't know it hurt that much, I'm sorry." He wants to explain, wants to make the bird guy understand, but he knows the words are failing him, because clearly, the guy doesn't speak English.
Water. He could give him more water. Snatching up the glass, Dean rushes to the kitchen, but just as he is about to pour a glass full, he gets an idea. Juice. He has some juice in the fridge and the taste of something sweet might appease the bird guy. Kind of like when the doctor gives a kid a lollipop after an examination. And yeah, that's definitely not a kid sitting in his living room, but he still might like the taste, right?
He usually buys orange juice, because he likes it with his French toast in the morning, but he's all out. The only thing he has is the nectarine thing Sam likes, but his brother hasn't been around in a while and Dean can only hope it hasn't gone bad.
He confirms it's still good and pours a full glass, taking both it and the carton back to the bird-guy. He seems a little calmer now, eyes no longer so watery, but still intensely blue. It looks like he has wiped the tears off his cheeks too and Dean hopes that's a good sign. He offers him the glass.
The guy takes it, but he is obviously confused by the color of the liquid, squinting at it before turning his questioning gaze towards Dean. For a second Dean gets lost in those amazing blue eyes before he remembers himself and nods, offering a small smile, hopefully convincing enough to make the guy try the juice.
The first tentative sip ends with the bird-guy smacking his lips while his eyes gradually grow wider. A brilliant smile spreads across his face, emitting some very positive energy Dean could feel deep in his bones. And then the guy is downing the contents of the glass, going so far as to throw his head back and snaking the glass in order to take every last drop. Then he licks the inside of the glass and Dean chuckles. Finally, with all of the juice in the glass gone, the guy licks his lips a few times and Dean is completely mesmerized by it that he ends up just staring at him for a good few minutes.
He gasps and flinches when something brushes his arm and he knows it's a feather, a wing but the knee jerk reaction has him stumbling backwards and he trips and falls on his ass. He hits the ground pretty hard and hisses through clench teeth, somehow managing to stifle a cry.
The bird-guy is instantly on him, so fast Dean barely notices him move. One hand on the chest and the other on the back of his neck, the creature is holding him as he kneels by Dean's side. His blue gaze seems to have deepened, laced with concern. The image takes Dean's breath away for the millionth time today and they end up in another long moment, eyes locked as the rest of the world fades into the background.
The guy really is beautiful. Next to those impossible blue eyes and those full lips, he has a very strong jawline, smooth, rosy cheeks and thick hair that just begs to have fingers running through it. Dean has seen some gorgeous people in his life, but never this up close and never with so much of their attention focusing solely on him.
This time it's the ringing of his phone that snaps him out of it. He smiles at the bird guy, ducking his head as he feels his cheeks heat up again. "I'm just gonna…" He trails off; no use in words as his thumb points in the direction of the ringing phone and the guy seems to understand that Dean needs to get that. Or at least he thinks Dean needs to cut out the noise it's making.
It's Sam. He's been calling more and more lately, probably feeling a little guilty that Dean's been on his own ever since he got married two months ago. But there's nothing Dean can do to ease his brother's guilt and for the first time he decides he doesn't want to try. He's got a guest in his home that he wants to direct all his attention to, so he shoots Sam a text, telling him he'll call him later and then turns the phone to silent. It's Sunday and the garage is closed, so there shouldn't be any emergency calls.
"Hey, you hungry? I could whip up something for breakfast?" Dean shouts and only gets a confused look with a head tilt that should not be this adorable. Of course, the bird guy doesn't understand a thing he's saying. Dean lets out a small laugh and then beckons the guy over, motioning for him to sit at the dining table. Dean turns towards the kitchen and sets off to make breakfast.
Dean panics for a moment, as he thinks about what to make, what the guy might eat. What do birds eat? Seeds? The closest thing he has are cereal, but they are over a week old, and there is definitely not enough for both of them. Besides, Dean doesn't feel like eating cereal right now. He feels like making his fluffy pancakes and maybe showing off a little. Besides, it looks like the guy has a sweet tooth, so he might enjoy the pancake-maple syrup combination.
Dean really hopes the bird-guy is more human than an actual bird, not wanting to give him food poisoning or anything.
He gets a strange shiver when he notices that the guy has been watching him work the entire time.
Dean sets the table with little Place mats that make cleaning after a little easier and brings the cutlery before he turns to get the two plates filled with pancakes, the syrup still oozing on the sides. He laughs when he turns back around to find the guy examining the knife and the fork, holding both upside down. Blue eyes snap back at him when he sets the plate down in front of the guy, shifting for a second to the meal before refocusing on Dean again.
"Food. You eat it," he says as he motions with his hand to his mouth. He doesn't get a chance to show the guy how to work the fork and the knife as his long fingers bury themselves into the stack, ripping out a piece and sniffing it for a moment as the syrup slides down the hand and back into the plate. It's ridiculous and somehow endearing to watch the guy consider the offered food, put it in his mouth and have those blue eyes go wide once more.
But then they close and the guy lets out such a human sound, a moan that simply vibrates through Dean's entire being, making his brain go offline for a good few minutes. When it comes back online, the bird guy has already eaten half a plate and doesn't seem to be stopping any time soon. Not knowing what else to do, Dean sits down and picks up his cutlery, digging in himself. He does notice the guy looking at what he's doing and how he's using the tools to eat and only glances at him before deciding that it tastes better when he's using his fingers.
He could be right.
Once he's done, Dean takes the plates, but not before the guy licks all the syrup from the dish and starts eyeing Dean's too. Luckily, he doesn't fight Dean over it. Bringing back a wet cloth, Dean moves slowly to the guy's face. "You got some…syrup all over, lemme just…"
Those sapphire eyes bore into Dean as he carefully cleans the guy's chin, cheeks and lips, trying damn hard to focus on the task at hand and not get lost in the ocean of those vibrant blues. What is wrong with him? Why is he acting like this, why is he reacting to the guy like this? It's weird and bizarre and… Well, silly. Like they are in some sort of a fairytale or something, only none of them are a pretty princess.
Well, Dean isn't. He can't really claim the same for this guest as he has no idea what the bird-guy actually is.
A huge yawn startles Dean from his musings and he watches as the guy shifts on the chair. It almost seems like he is trying to get more comfortable, and he is still looking at Dean, though not as intensely anymore. He is blinking and he seems like he might fall asleep any moment now.
"You tired? Wanna take a nap?" He asks and huffs a laugh when the bird guy just squints at him. Right. He has no idea what Dean is saying. "Nap? Like this?" Dean offers, placing his hands on his cheek and closing his eyes to mimic sleeping. The eyes keep squinting at him for a few more seconds before the guy abruptly stands up.
Dean is so startled by the motion that, when the guy turns and leaves the room, Dean doesn't follow immediately.
The other side of the house consists of the garage and the laundry room, all divided by a long halfway with a bathroom at the end of it. The hallway also contains the stairs to the second floor where Dean' bedroom, a guest room, an office and an empty storage room are. (Dean purposely doesn't think about how that empty room was supposed to be a nursery).
When Dean finally bolts after the guy, he has no idea where he took off, but he hopes it's not in the garage, as there are so many dangerous tools in there. In fact, he really should clean up a little there. At the last minute he spots the guy literally climbing the stairs, using all fours. It is somehow both endearing and ridiculous.
Dean reaches him just as the bird guy opens the first door to his left, of the empty room Dean uses for storage. The guy looks over the boxes and the dusty stuff it contains and closes the door. Seems like he doesn't like the room. The first one on the right is an office, but aside from the big desk and one filing cabinet it's mostly empty and the guy moves on rather quickly.
The second door to the left is the guest room, one where Sam usually stays in when he spends the night (which is pretty rare these days). Dean still hasn't changed the sheets in there, and the room is a little stuffy, so it's not a big surprise when the bird guy wrinkles his nose at it and shuts the door. The bathroom door at the end of the hallway is slightly open so the guy only glances through before moving to the second door to the right. Dean's bedroom.
He throws the door open and glances inside. There is a big bed in the middle, two nightstands (because they always come in twos when getting a king size bed), a dresser and a TV mounted on the wall. The guy gasps and Dean sees his nostrils flaring. Does it stink in there? Oh, god, is it that bad? Dean obviously can't smell it, not the way the bird-guy obviously can and he is panicking. He feels his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but then notices the bird guy going beat red and gets confused for a moment. Why is the guy blushing?
Oh dear god, he can't smell that, can he? Dean knows it's been about a week since he indulged in some private activities, but he's changed the sheets since then so there shouldn't be any trace of…that. Maybe he forgot a Kleenex?
Dean has no time to contemplate this further as the guy quickly closes the door and retreats back to the stairs. He has no clue what the guy is looking for and he can't really ask him either, so he just follows him around, brimming with curiosity.
Dean stops in his tracks once the guy reaches the stairs. He obviously has no idea how human things work, and considering how he literally climbed up the stairs, Dean is more than curious about how he tends to climb down. Not expecting it, it takes his breath away when those big black wings spread a little and the bird guy literally glides down on nothing but air, smooth and graceful. It's astonishing to witness.
At the bottom of the stairs, the dude just glances towards the garage door, and shakes his head, his nose wrinkling again. Then he looks back towards the bathroom and then up, and… figures it's a bathroom? It seems like it, however impossible it may be. Dean's still trying to wrap his mind about the levitating thing the guy did, so he isn't quick enough to follow him when the bird guy walks back into the kitchen.
When Dean finally reaches the room, the guy's nowhere in sight.
Naturally, he starts to panic. Did he leave? Did he disappear? Was he even real or has Dean finally lost his mind?
A shuffling sound brings Dean attention to the living room, to the couch. The cushions are missing. As he nears it, he hears the sound again and he is confident it came from the corner next to the couch, the one that used to hold a big ass plant Sam brought and that was in dire need of more light so Dean moved it, and just never filled that spot. Slowly, Dean walks towards it as if he is about to approach a wounded animal. But what he finds there makes him smile and makes his heart skip a beat.
The bird guy is there, sitting cross legged and trying to arrange the cushions, but he keeps frowning at the setup he makes, so he keeps moving them around, clearly dissatisfied. Dean takes about 30 seconds to think what the guy's doing before he remembers that documentary about birds Sam made him watch years ago.
He's nesting.
Or at least trying to. Dean knows birds use branches and leaves and even moss to make up their nests, but thankfully the bird guy isn't interested in bringing that into Dean's house. But the couch cushions aren't enough, and Dean tries to figure out how he might help. It occurred to him that this was what the bird guy was looking for, a safe place he could settle down and nap, and for some reason the corner of Dean's living room was his best choice.
This whole morning was really bizarre, yet Dean finds that he doesn't care. He just feels the need to help make the guy as comfortable as possible, so he runs back into the hallway, up the stairs and to the storage room where he keeps a dresser that contains extra blankets. He grabs some pillows from his room too along with a comforter and tries to hurry down the stairs without tripping over all of that.
The guy perks up when he sees Dean and he smiles so brightly that Dean just melts on the spot.
Dean shows him what he's got and the guy carefully picks through the blankets, taking the softest ones and lifting them to his face to run his cheek over them. Dean melts all over again.
But it's only when the guy reaches for the pillows and sniffs them, then buries his face in them that Dean's heart truly threatens to pop out of his chest. Those are his pillows. The guy seems to like them so much, he places them on a particular spot with so much care, it's too damn sweet.
Then he buries himself under the pile of blankets. He tries to settle down, but he keeps moving and fidgeting and something is clearly still not right. A few times Dean catches him looking up, towards the ceiling and the white walls and scoffs before he tries to resettle. Must be all the light that's bothering him.
But it's only when the guy pulls out his wing and tries to cover himself with it unsuccessfully that Dean finally realizes he needs to help him out. And he's got the best way to do it.
Taking two of the discarded blankets, Dean sets off to work while the bird guy eyes him curiously. Thankfully, the hook that used to hold the plant is still in the wall, so it's easy to secure one side of a blanket to the wall, while he spreads the other across the back of the couch and the armrest. Once he is sure it will hold, Dean takes the other blanket and crosses it over the first one, so that it covers the "passage" between the couch and the wall.
He's built a blanket fort.
There is a small shift inside and then the guy's peeking outside, a big, bright smile on his face that plays at Dean's heartstrings in a way he knows there will never be a single thing he wouldn't do to have that smile directed at him again. So naturally, when the guy beckons him inside, Dean comes.
It's really cool actually, the sunlight hitting the blanket just right, painting the whole space in purple-pinkish color, following the intricate pattern. It makes the guy look even more stunning, if that was ever possible. Not to mention that he's smiling back at Dean like nobody ever did before and Dean feels so lost in the moment, so happy and joyful, he can't form a single thought.
And then… Then Dean's heart rate accelerates as the guy slowly reaches, his fingers brushing against Dean's cheek. Dean's eyes slip closed on their own accord as he tries to remember to breathe while the fingers slide down his face, caressing it before moving up to his temple. Dean gasps, feeling a sudden rush of something, some warm, fuzzy energy wash over him. His eyes snap open just in time to meet that intense gaze of those sky blue eyes, only this time, there is bright, blueish light inside them, reflecting Dean's own image back to him.
It should be scary, Dean should be terrified, but he's not. He doesn't know why, just knows that he feels… Safe. Warm. Cherished and seen.
"I am not a bird."
The moment is broken by the deep voice of the guy sitting across from him and Dean doesn't register at first that the bird-guy is even speaking.
"I. Am not. A bird."
He repeats and holy shit. He can talk! He can read Dean's mind! Dean is suddenly overwhelmed with questions he wants to ask, all of them on the tip of his tongue, but the words just won't come out. And after a few moments of just staring at the slightly pouting expression on the guy's face, Dean suddenly realizes what he said.
"You…but…I didn't… You're not a bird."
"No, I am not."
"I–" Dean cuts himself off, not knowing what he planned to say in the first place. His mind is reeling and he has trouble grasping everything. The man sitting across from him sighs and offers him a sympathetic look. It actually gives Dean some clarity, enough to snap out of this daze.
"You-you can talk? How?" The guy sighs again and averts his gaze for a moment like he's embarrassed. When he finally looks up, he responds:
"I am sorry. I… downloaded your knowledge so that I can learn how to communicate with you." Yeah, perfectly normal explanation. Nothing odd about sifting through someone's head to learn how to talk to them. Nothing at all.
"What are you?" Dean asks after remembering the guy saying he's not a bird. Which, yeah, Dean kind of knew as he had no beak and had a really hot human body, but in all fairness he has been calling him a bird-guy in his head, so…
"I– It's very complicated. But I won't harm you, I need you to know that."
"I know that." Dean does. He doesn't know how, but he does.
""I–" The guy cuts himself off again, and Dean is pretty sure he is blushing and that it wasn't just the effect of the sun hitting the blankets.
"It's okay. You can tell me," Dean says softly, setting his hand over the guy's where it sits in his lap. He hopes it conveys the comfort he intended to show. Dean has no idea, but he trusts this guy. Speaking of. "What's your name?"
"Castiel." The guy, Castiel offers.
"That's a weird name. But I like it. I'm gonna call you Cas, is that ok?" The guy huffs a laugh and his eyes spark up as they look back at Dean. He just knows he found his way in. He doesn't want to push too hard and make Cas close up again, so he changes his original question. "Where did you come from?"
"Up above."
"Well, that's a… vast term." This draws another laugh from Cas. It is the most amazing sound Dean has ever heard and he wants to hear more of it. But he also wants to know more about the man sitting in a blanket fort in Dean's living room.
"The sky. I came from the sky. Not outer space if that's what you've been wondering. 'M not an alien." Dean just has to chuckle at that. The thought honestly didn't occur to him, but it is amusing.
"Alright. Not an alien. And not a bird. Superman?" Dean offers as a joke, but the way Cas squints as if he is thinking about it makes Dean's heart skip a beat. He isn't really Superman, that's ridiculous.
"I only recently acquired your knowledge, so I might be mistaken, but isn't Superman technically an alien?"
Dean simply can't contain the burst of laughter that explodes from him. It takes him a while to stop, his stomach and jaw aching as tears gather in the corners of his eyes. He did not see that coming. Cas watches him with amusement and just as Dean's laughter tones down, he speaks up again.
"Besides, I am much cooler than Superman."
That has Dean giggling again, but thankfully not too hard. "Dude, if you are calling yourself cool, trust me, you ain't cool." Cas' face twists in outrage and the expression is so adorable that Dean starts to wonder if he'll ever stop laughing. Or if he'll need a change of pants soon.
"But I am. I am faster than him, stronger and I even have wings, which, according to your mind, are way cooler than a cape. At least I don't wear my underwear over my pants!"
"No, you just don't wear any pants, or underwear for that matter." Dean fires back, still laughing his ass off. Cas' eyes flash with that bluish light again, and shakes his head. "What, you got laser eyes? Gonna shoot me now, Cas?"
"No. I'm not gonna shoot you. But you should know I have xRay vision, so I know for a fact that you're not wearing any underwear either."
Dean chokes on his next intake of breath. He feels his cheeks heat up as he calms his cough, and the smug smile on Cas' face tells him the guy thinks he's won, so Dean lifts his hands up in surrender mode. "Alright. You win. You're cooler than Superman."
Cas seems proud of that and he is smiling, looking much more relaxed than a few minutes ago, so Dean thinks he might give the first question another shot. Maybe rephrase it a little bit "Okay, so are you going to tell me who you are and where you came from?"
Cas pauses for a second, then starts to speak, then closes his mouth as if he's changed his mind. He appears to be unsure how to answer that, not that he doesn't want to. At least that's what Dean thinks. It takes him a few minutes, but he finally takes a breath of air and spills the beans, looking like he's bracing for a punch.
"It hurt."
"What hurt?"
"When I fell from Heaven."
Time just stops. Dean can't feel himself breathing, he can't feel himself blinking, he can't feel himself period. His whole mind just went haywire, completely fried. Cas was saying, he was saying, he's a, he can't be a…
"An angel? You're an angel?" To his query Cas only sheepishly nods and shrinks into himself a little. "So it's true, all of it? Heaven, hell, God? Souls? Angels and demons?"
Cas pauses for a moment, thinking, or maybe searching through Dean's memories and knowledge to understand exactly what Dean is talking about before he answers. And his best answer is: "I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know?"
"Well, I have never seen or heard about demons, certainly not the way you think of them. I don't know if Hell exists. I don't really know if Heaven exists, not the way you're thinking about. There are… There are no people there. No souls. Just us, angels. We…we don't know who created us, we just are. We… Actually, we live a little bit like you humans do. We take our energy from the sweet nectar of the tree, and it tastes a little like–like the peach juice you gave me." Every now and then Cas pauses to think of a word to use, but Dean is impressed either way; half an hour ago the guy didn't even speak English.
"We drink water. We sleep. We–don't poop." He makes a face when he says that and despite Dean still being in a state of mild shock, he can't help but chuckle. "Our bodies use all that we intake, convert it into energy and store it in our bodies. We can fly. We have interests, we tell stories. We… Bond."
"Bond?"
"We mate. Reproduce. We are born, though, again, not in the sense you are thinking of. And we die, disappear into the clouds."
"So how come nobody's ever seen you?" Dean asks, though he thinks some might have, only people didn't quite believe them. Still, it was enough for the myths about the angels to come to be, so they were seen at one point in the past.
"There are two things the angels are forbidden to do. Eat the fruit of the tree of life and come down to Earth." Dean thinks Cas might be talking about the apple, but he has other things he wants to know more about.
"Who forbade it?"
"I… I don't know."
As the silence falls over them, Dean can't help but think that the angels are so very similar to humans and that they don't really have all the answers. But that's okay too, they don't have to. Dean is just amazed he got to meet one.
Cas yawns again and Dean remembers why they are here in the first place. Cas seemed tired and he still does, so Dean should really let him nap. But before he can do that, he needs to know one more thing.
"Why did you run around the house? What were you looking for?"
"A place to settle, to–to nest."
"And this corner was the best you could… This corner suits you?" Dean was curious as to why the angel wouldn't prefer a soft bed instead.
"It does. The other rooms were…" The angel trailed off and when it was obvious he wasn't going to answer, Dean prompted him to talk. "They were what?"
"The room with the boxes was too cold. And the one with the big desk was too stuffy." Cas offered, biting down on his lower lip.
"Yeah, well, those don't have a bed, so I wouldn't even offer those, but there is a guest room–"
"Smelled wrong."
"What do you mean it smelled wrong?"
"Like someone else. Too much like someone else." Huh. So the angels do have a heightened sense of smell. That's really interesting.
"Okay, well, the bed in that one isn't the best anyway, but you still could have taken my room. Oh, wait, that would smell wrong too, right?" Dean berated himself internally for the words that he allowed to slip out of his mouth. Why was he even feeling hurt that the angel didn't choose his room?
"No, that one smells too right."
"W-what?"
"I–" Another yawn breaks through and while Dean is super eager to learn what Cas means by his room smelling 'too right', he can see that the guy is almost half asleep.
"Okay, we can talk about it later. You seem tired, so why don't you rest up a little and I–"
"Stay with me? Please?"
Dean is surprised that the angel wants him to stay, but he's not about to say no. He doesn't think he could ever say no to those incredibly blue eyes.
"Okay. Um, I'll just– Oof." Dean was thinking of sitting a little to the side so that Cas can get comfortable, but apparently the angel has other ideas regarding that as he yanks Dean down. He pulls Dean close and wraps his arms around him, snuggling into Dean's chest.
The little happy sigh he produces melts Dean's heart.
Dean tucks his nose into Cas' hair and instantly feels the tug of sleep. He feels warm and cozy, so he lets it overtake him.
He has no idea how long he's been asleep, but it doesn't really matter as he is startled awake by the whimpering sounds coming from right next to him. The angel in his arms is shaking and crying, but he is also obviously having a nightmare, so Dean knows he can begin to fix it by waking him up.
"Cas? Cas, sweetheart, it's okay. It's okay, you're safe. I got you, Cas, I got you. Wake up. Come on, sweetheart, wake up."
There is a gasp and then there are two shining sapphires looking back at Dean, their gaze so intense, it feels like they are seeing his bare soul.
But they are also filled with tears and fear and Dean feels it settle heavily over his heart. He feels like has to fix this somehow, has to wipe those fears and that sadness from those blue gems.
"Dean?"
"I got you, Cas. I got you." Dean tightens his hold of the angel and murmurs comforting words in his ear as Cas slowly relaxes. After a few minutes, he pulls away enough to peer back into the angel's eyes. "You wanna talk about it?"
"I dreamt…I dreamt I was falling. Like last night." Oh. Dean has no idea what he expected, but Cas reliving last night's event was nowhere near his expectations.
"Tell me what happened last night."
"I was… I was on the edge again. My brother, he told me not to go near the edge, not to peer down to the human world, but I just couldn't resist. I am… Not very good at doing what I am told."
"Nothing wrong with being curious." Dean says it and believes it. He doesn't give a damn about the 'curiosity killed the cat' and all that.
"But it is forbidden. Everything about the human world is forbidden. But I… I was just amazed by all the things you have, the things you do. I am so intrigued by everything, especially… Especially human emotions and relationships." Dean can see a small blush forming on the angel's cheek and he can't help but smile.
"Do you guys, um, date? Like we do? And do you… You know?"
"We mate once." Cas' reply leaves Dean a little confused, so he has to ask for a clarification. But apparently his expression is enough for the angel to understand his puzzlement before Dean even manages to ask. "It means we both 'date' and have 'relations'."
Meaning sex. Dean is curious if they do it like humans do, but he's not about to ask that. Instead, he latches on another thing Cas said.
"What do you mean by once? Once a week, a month?"
"Once in our lifetime. We mate and produce an offspring and then we take care of it. It's…Similar to what you humans do. Only less… It's more perfunctory, a means to the end. That's why I was so intrigued by humans, you do everything with such strong emotions, it's remarkable. I always wanted… I wanted to know what it's like."
"And then I saw you. Looking up at the sky. Every night for the past two months, you were there, looking up. It seems like you were looking at me. Seeing me. Other angels… They… I was always the odd one. I always wanted more. None of them understood that."
"I'm sorry." Dean knows a little bit about not being accepted, he lost a few friends when he came out as bisexual, but he could never really grasp what it was like for Cas, to feel so estranged from your entire species.
"Don't be. It led me to you."
Dean sucks a breath as Cas leans in, but his eyes naturally fall closed as he feels the first tentative brush of lips. It's so soft, so nice, barely a kiss. Following his instincts, Dean moves in closer, pressing his lips more firmly against the angel's. It feels like heaven.
No pun intended.
Dean's tongue darts out to lick at the seam of Cas' lips when he remembers this might just be the angel's very first kiss. He doesn't want to overwhelm him, or push him into doing something he's not yet ready to, so he lets his lips dance against Cas' for a minute more before he ends it.
He feels lightheaded.
Cas must feel the same because he seems dazed, his eyes a little distant, his mouth curling into an amazed smile. And then he lets out a single sound, "wow!" and Dean is a goner.
In the short few hours he has known Castiel, he went on and fell for him, deeply. And he doesn't regret it one bit.
Cas' stomach decides to interrupt them by growling loudly, and Dean can't hold his chuckle at the confused look Cas gives his own body part. "I don't understand. I ate only a few hours ago."
"Actually, you ate almost eight hours ago, since we slept for about six." Dean responded, glancing at his phone. Cas doesn't seem to believe him, if his little frown is anything to go by. But once he opens the blanket covering the entrance of the fort, he can see the position of the sun has changed drastically.
"What do you say I whip up some burgers for us? I already planned to grill some today, I got some in the fridge. And we can go out if you want, eat on the patio," Dean offers and Cas positively beams at him. It's such an endearing sight.
"Can we… Make a picnic?"
"Sure. Take any blanket and put it out wherever you want, take some pillows too if you want." Dean chuckles at how giddy Cas seems. But then, suddenly, a frown twists his features. "What's wrong?"
"I don't understand. Why do you have to whip the burgers?"
Half an hour later, Dean is still laughing, but the burgers are nearly done and they have a whole picnic set up outside in the yard. The sun is bright and warm and it just feels amazing to be outside.
Not to mention how gorgeous Cas looks bathed in sunlight and relaxing on the blanket while his wings stretch out behind him. (Dean was never happier to have no neighbors close enough to see his angel.)
(No, he's not possessive, he just worried someone might freak out seeing a man with huge black wings on his back)
"Hey, beautiful." He gets so amazed at the way Cas blushes deeply at the endearment, and he notes to do it more often. Those douche angels have no idea what they are missing out on. His smile remains (hasn't it been there the whole day? Feels like it is) as he hands Cas the burger. He placed the buns over the burgers as they were cooking and added tomatoes and lettuce in an effort to balance out the meal a little.
The moan Cas lets slip is so obscene, it makes Dean freeze and turn to stare at the angel. There is some sauce dripping down his chin, but his head is lifted, turned towards the sun and he is chewing and humming in delight.
He is happy.
Dean is delighted to realize this. After the nightmare and the information about his world Cas has revealed, Dean feared the angel would want to go back as soon as possible. Despite being the odd one out, it's still his world, his family. Yet Dean can't help but hope Cas would want to stay with him.
"Oh!" Cas lets out a soft sound at the sight of a bee that landed on the blanket near them. He seems mesmerized by the creature and watches as it flies to the dandelion Cas picked. "Fascinating."
"I have observed this world for years, but being down here, I realize it's so much different. It's amazing to be a part of it and not just watch it from afar." He pauses in his musings for a few moments, just watching the bee work. Finally, he swallows thickly and looks up at Dean, his voice barely a whisper when he asks:
"Can I stay?"
Dean's heart practically explodes from happiness. He gasps and spends a good few seconds frozen, processing that what he heard was real. Is real. Cas wants to stay. Finally, his brain kicks into gear and before he knows it, he's smiling and moving to close the distance between them, muttering a string of 'yes,yes,yes,yes' before his lips find Cas' again. He tastes like burgers and fresh air and Pepsi and it is absolutely perfect.
This time he deepens the kiss and the angel gasps the first time their tongues make contact. The kiss is broken and Cas is pulling away and Dean is terrified he went too far. The angel's eyes light up and steal the words of apology from Dean's lips.
"I'm sorry, I wasn't expecting– It's so…" And suddenly, Dean understands. The angel was overwhelmed. Dean is about to tell him it was okay when suddenly the angel surges up and almost tackles Dean. He hits his head on the ground, but he doesn't feel it as Cas is all over him, kissing him with such urgency, it lights up Dean's entire body. He is stupefied for only a moment before he starts returning the kiss, setting his hands on Cas' shoulders first, then moving to his back and down to his waist.
Only he misses and his fingers slide a little over the Cas' ribs, making the angel burst out in laughter and scrambling to run away from him. Dean is laughing too, and even though he misses the warmth of Cas' body on top of his, he knows they have time, that they don't need to rush anything. They have time to get to know each other, time to be together. It's everything Dean hoped to have some day, but as he got older, he realized he might not get it.
Looks like his luck has changed and Dean is all too thrilled about it.
They spend more time talking about Cas and his home and then the angel asks so many questions about things he has seen the humans do, but never understood why they did it. It was easy explaining it all to him, after all, he had Dean's memories and his entire knowledge of the human race, he just needed some clarification on certain things.
When Dean asks him about the light in his eyes, Cas explains it was his grace flaring up, and then explains what grace is. Dean knows he has the ability to 'download' other people's thoughts and memories, but he had no idea the angel has super strength and super speed. Yes, he did mention that when they talked about Superman, but Dean didn't think he was serious. Or that he is that powerful.
He can also heal wounds, fly and apparently, he can even kill someone with his raw energy, but he assures Dean he could never do that to a person. Dean is inclined to believe him. The best thing though, and the one thing that had Dean a little worried before, are Cas' wings.
He can hide them, make them invisible somehow.
And as Dean stands in front of (still naked aside from the cloth around his hips) Castiel, he can't help his wide smile as his wings fade into, what Cas calls, ethereal plane. He brings them back on demand and sends them off again. As much as Dean loves his angel's wings, he is delighted that he can hide them, thus allowing Dean to introduce him to the rest of the world, to some of his friends and his brother.
He will probably end up telling Sam the truth about Cas, there haven't been any secrets between them in a long time, but it'll still be good to ease his brother into it.
And that is how he knows he's going to spend the rest of his life with Cas. Live the 'happily ever after' he never thought he would get.