Pairing: Eleven/Dean
Words: 365
Rating: K
He didn't know how it had happened. One minute they weren't there, and the next he was taking off his jacket and setting it down and they were slipping out from nowhere. The Doctor inspected his new wings as far as his neck would let him turn his head, seeing that they were golden, just like during his regenerations, but fanned out into a snowy white. The tips twitched a little, and the soft, fragile feathers on the bottom shivered softly as they tried to move around. He had a bit of difficulty, now having about two thousand new muscles he wasn't born with. He focused hard, and after a moment or two, they started to flutter and move like he wanted them to. He smiled to himself at the small victory.
"This is wonderful. Completely wonderful." He muttered to himself, hunching his back slightly so he could let his wings flap.
Dean walked into the TARDIS and shut the door, walking up the stairs and onto the glass floor before picking his head up to look at the Doctor. He stumbled back at the skinnier man's new appearance, and he just smiled back widely. Dean looked at the large wings sprouting almost out of nowhere from behind his back. His shirt wasn't even ripped where the bases should have been.
"Dude… What happened to you?" He asked as he circled the Time Lord, and the Doctor just shrugged.
"I honestly have no idea, Dean. But it's cool. I just have wings now." He chuckled, and found himself starting to get a better view of the TARDIS ceiling, when there was a hand on his ankle.
"Easy there, tiger." Dean held him so he wouldn't get stuck up there, or fall when he was high up.
"Wings are cool!" The Doctor shouted happily, floating for a moment before the Winchester was gently pulling him back down to the ground, hand on his shoulder when his feet touched the TARDIS floor again. He grinned full teethed at Dean, and hugged him tight, hearing a soft, deep chuckle when his wings followed suit.