Chapter Text
Castiel woke to the sound of rain. Heavy drops pulled him out of sleep drip by insistent drip. Castiel huffed in displeasure, breathing in the spicy scent of the pillow he was resting on. Maybe if he pulled it over his head? He shuffled slightly, getting his hands under the pillow but no. Sleep was slipping out of his grasp. Castiel heaved a sigh and slowly opened his eyes with a groan. It was still dark, the air warm and musty, smelling of wood and spices.
A low chuckle made Castiel sit up at once and when his eyes searched the dim interior of the wagon he saw the glint of Dean's eyes. He exhaled in relief, but embarrassment crept up right away.
"Hello, sunshine," Dean said. "How about some light?" Castiel couldn't see more than the faint shape of his husband moving but then Dean lit the lamps hanging from the ceiling. Now that Castiel's mind was no longer dulled by sleep, he noticed that his entire body felt wet, his night shirt sticking to his upper body. He pulled at his collar. It was definitely sweat and not a leak in the wagon's canvas that caused it.
"It's warm," Castiel observed and Dean laughed at that.
"Of course it is. Did you think that we'd be happy to settle down in a cold country? It's rarely under 20 degrees here."
"Of course," Castiel answered with a grunt and shook his shirt so to get some air under it. Prior to the signing of the contract, Castiel had consulted with the court scientists so he knew that he'd have to expect a warm to sub-tropical climate in Winchester. Nobody could tell him exactly what to expect because while soldiers had brought back reports from the war, no one knew where exactly his new home lay. The Naga had presumably changed their capital after the war had devastated some of the cities. He had been advised to pack for summer time in any case.
Castiel got up from his slightly sweat soaked bed. It wasn't polite for an omega to change clothes in front of a stranger, even though Dean was technically his husband. Considering how touchy Dean sometimes was, Castiel decided that he would just have to wait for a while to get changed. He probably wasn't smelly yet. Castiel stretched, rolling his shoulders and letting his wings spread out as far as possible. He could hear Dean sniff loudly, just the once. Maybe he had brushed his tail on accident. He looked over his shoulder and saw Dean lick his lips. He didn't say anything though.
"So… Where are we?" Castiel asked and Dean looked up at him blankly.
"Huh?"
"Where are we?" Castiel repeated and Dean seemed to snap out of his daze. He pulled aside a curtain and looked out, letting in faint light and the sound of rain and rustling foliage.
"Just on the outer edge of Campbell I'd say. We've recently entered the Great Forest Kansas."
"The Great Forest?" Castiel asked, though he had heard of it in tales. "In the land of snakes a forest old and dark," he cited and Dean lifted his eyebrow in surprise. "with gnarly trees and inky black barks. Monster dwell in the perpetual night, always hungry and devouring all light." Dean frowned, then he lifted his finger.
"First of all, your poetry sucks."
"Enochian is a bit... melodramatic, but the rhymes are not meant to be good, but easy for children to remember," Castiel agreed, then he walked over to Dean. His husband leant out of the way quickly when Castiel climbed over his tail to look out of the small gap in the canvas.
"Dude," Dean said breathlessly but Castiel ignored him. It was hard to say what time of day it was, but it was still light outside. They were travelling on an even road, but the forest seemed eager to reclaim the path. Everything was green and radiant as far as Castiel could see. He heard animals call and chirp and saw the rain drop from the leaves. And where the tree tops were less dense, thin columns of light pierced the forest, getting lost in a layer of hazy mist before they touched the forest floor.
"Second." Castiel turned his head when he heard Dean's voice, dragging his eyes away from the forest. "Kansas Forest covers a lot of ground and almost all of it is on Winchester clan land but it does sprawl into other regions as well. There's only one forest that's bigger than Kansas in Nagaland. It's Purgatory. That's the place you spoke about in your little sucky poem."
"It's not poetry," Castiel reminded him but Dean waved his hand.
"Purgatory is a nasty, creepy place. Many monsters are native there and it's where Leviathan come from."
"Are there Leviathan in your forests…?" Castiel saw Dean sigh and then he shrugged. "You don't know?"
"From time to time we hear reports. Sometimes people disappear. But there are many things in these forests, Castiel. Not only good things," he said, then he balled his hand into a fist and lightly bumped his knuckles into Castiel's shoulder. "But don't worry. I'm a hunter, I know how to protect you." Castiel nodded but didn't answer. It wasn't like Castiel was unable to fend for himself, but Leviathan were another thing. Castiel glimpsed back out of the wagon, peering into where the forest got dense and dark. Did they lurk in the darkness of Kansas forest? There were few things viler than Naga, Metatron had always said. Few things that could snuff out an angel's radiance with claws and teeth like the Leviathan could. Castiel must have been silent for too long, because Dean cleared his throat.
"You alright, Castiel?"
"Of course… I simply feel apprehension because these are strange new lands for me." Castiel sat down where he was, instead of climbing over Dean's tail to get back to his spot. His knees bumped into Dean's hip. Or what Castiel would assume to be Dean's hip. The scales had felt soft against the skin of his knees. Dean didn't pull back this time.
"Sure," Dean said gently. "I promise you're going to like it here. Winchester is a beautiful country." Castiel shot him a small smile and nodded. Meanwhile the wagon took them deeper into Kansas forest.
Castiel was glad when they finally stopped. The rain had picked up, which meant that the wagons were going slower than initially expected and it was already starting to darken by the time Castiel stepped out of the wagon. He kept under his umbrella as the servants were busy unloading the wagons. Moisture clung heavily to the air and despite the lateness of the day the heat seemed to be trapped by the thick foliage. Castiel's wings were starting to drip within minutes of him being out of the wagon and he couldn't simply shake them out with all the Naga around, so he slowly pulled them towards his back, suppressing a shiver when his clothes got damp.
The wagons had stopped in a square, the ground under Castiel's feet was a smooth but slightly slippery mosaic. He looked up from the interlocking geometric shapes in white and blue. There was a house built just at the edge where the square became dense forest again. Judging by how the servants carried Castiel's travelling trunk into the building, Castiel assumed that it was the Winchesters' house. Just like the inn it was a one-story building with a flat roof, but it seemed to disappear straight into the forest, so covered was the roof by foliage. The trees next to the house seemed to have been groomed to interlock above the house, growing above it like a spire. From the roof, thick liana seemed to grow towards neighboring trees and other houses lining the square. Various paved paths led away from the square, each of them wide, but looking to Castiel like tunnels with how tree trunks and vegetation domed above them. When he raised his head and glimpsed past his umbrella he couldn't see the sky. All above was branches, liana and foliage. There even seemed to be bridges made of ropes and wood and whenever some light passed through the thick canopy of leaves, there were glints of light. Lanterns, just like the one Castiel was carrying in his hand, were hung everywhere. But none were lit.
"Castiel, how about we have repast?" Dean appeared from seemingly nowhere and now that he was no longer constrained by the wagon's roof he stood far too tall for Castiel to cover his head with the umbrella. Castiel turned his eyes away from Dean's face to study his tail, which was lying on the wet floor, even the tail end wasn't lifted off the mosaic. There was very little point in covering Dean's head if the rest of his body was going to be wet anyway.
"Alright," Castiel agreed and followed Dean across the square. "Why exactly are you building your houses in rain forests?" Castiel asked when they didn't go to the house, but Dean steered them into one of the tunnel like paths. It was wide enough for two Naga to pass each other comfortably. Castiel almost stepped on Dean's tail when a Naga stopped to stare at him. The disbelief was written all over his face. He wasn't the only one who turned their head to look at Castiel. He was rather visible with his bright umbrella after all.
"Hm?" Dean asked and looked over his shoulder. It was getting darker now because not a lot of light seemed to reach this path. Even though the branches and leaves seemed to interlock tightly, rain still dripped down.
"It's wet and humid. There are too many trees for good city planning and I can imagine that road maintenance isn't easy. And it's dark too." Dean stopped in front of a building that had an awning reaching into the path. Castiel stepped under it with Dean and folded his umbrella.
"Not all Naga tribes build in forests. Some have different terrain preferences," Dean explained, then he held his hand out towards the wide-open doors. Castiel took the invitation and stepped into a wide room with the expected benches. There was another Naga sitting on a bench, just finishing his cleaning routine. He lifted his hand in greeting towards Dean, but then his smile faltered and he seemed to inhale deeply a couple of times.
"Castiel!" Dean said loudly and Castiel gave a start. The Naga's eyes slid through the room before they finally landed on Castiel. "Why don't you get dried?"
"Of course," Castiel answered and put his umbrella into a corner. He sat on the bench farthest away from the strange Naga (who was named Roy, as far as Castiel could gather from Dean greeting him) and pulled a towel from the shelf. "This still seems highly impractical," he commented tiredly.
"Well, you might be able to just pull off your shoots," Dean argued.
"Shoes," Castiel corrected.
"Shoes. But I can't just take my scales off and it's rude to get into a house without at least some cleaning."
"So whose house are we visiting?" Castiel asked, trying his best to ignore the openly staring (or was it glaring?) Naga, who was slow to finish his cleaning routine.
"It's nobody's house. It's a repast house, we're having coffee here, but there surely is some food for you too," Dean explained.
"And you clean yourself so thoroughly even when visiting public places?" Castiel wanted to know, then he looked at his shoes. "In our cities, we are not expected to take off our shoes when going into public places like tea rooms." Dean seemed to think about that for a moment, letting his eyes roam over Castiel's legs. The other Naga took this moment of silence to slip through the second door into the inside of this so-called repast house. Castiel didn't miss the calculating look he had been sent. Dean visibly relaxed when they were alone.
"You can usually slide into buildings that aren't homes without cleaning. But Hagar is almost always wet, they have calling halls so that we can dry up a little bit. No thorough cleaning is necessary. So I suppose you can keep on your shoes," Dean explained and Castiel nodded slowly. Dean studied him and Castiel tilted his head to the side. It was obvious from the small frown appearing on Dean's face that he wanted to say something but was holding himself back.
"What is it?" Castiel prompted when they had spent a tense moment of silence. Dean rubbed the back of his neck and then he slid off the bench. He slowly approached Castiel, lowering his upper body until his face was close to Castiel's.
"I apologize," he said but before Castiel could ask Dean breathed in deeply, then he straightened himself up a little, so that Castiel was eyelevel with Dean's collar bones.
"Did you scent me…?" Castiel asked in confusion. Dean's cheeks were red.
"Your smell is strong. Ever since you woke up. It's not…" Dean cleared his throat in embarrassment. "You know." Castiel didn't, but this wasn't the time to interrupt Dean. "Your scent turns everyone's heads. You saw how the other guy reacted."
"It's warm. I sweated during sleep and haven't had the chance to change or wash," Castiel explained, unsure if he should be embarrassed. "I don't think I smell."
"No, no! It's not like I'm saying that you stink or anything! It's just that your natural omega scent is strong! And that's just… I just don't want you to get weirded out when everyone starts sniffing in there." Dean waved his hands about, clearly more embarrassed about this than Castiel was.
"Alright, I won't," Castiel said and then he turned towards the entry. He was surprised when Dean took a hold of Castiel's wrists, stopping him from leaving the antechamber. Castiel looked up at Dean in surprise and his husband instantly let his hand drop again, lifting both his hands up, palms facing out.
"Just… let me mask your scent, okay?" Dean asked and Castiel turned back towards him.
"Why?" he asked and Dean scrunched up his face. "They will look anyway. It's not like you can hide the fact that I'm an angel."
"I don't mean to hide what you are, Castiel. I simply want to highlight what you are – my husband." Dean lowered himself to Castiel's eyelevel again. "It's not gonna hurt. I'll just brush my wrists across your neck, that should do the trick." Dean rubbed his wrists against his own neck, then he held them out for Castiel. Castiel was unsure what he was supposed to do. "I don't smell too bad, right?" Castiel looked up into Dean's expectant face. He still smelled slightly of junipers, but it was clearly starting to wear off.
"No?" Castiel said and Dean grinned at that. "Do what you must," Castiel allowed, sure that there was no point in arguing about this. He knew that Naga had a better sense of smell than angels did, so maybe he did smell weird to Dean. If it made him feel better to mask Castiel's scent with his own, then so be it. Dean gingerly took a hold of Castiel's jaw, rubbing his thumbs slightly against the hinge of Castiel's jaw, then he let his hands glide lower. He slowly rubbed his wrists against his neck, like his mother did when applying perfume.
"It's not as effective as if I rubbed you with my neck but you know… Propriety and crap."
"You know that I don't know about your propriety and crap. Though I know it would have been weird if you had rubbed your head on me like a dog." Dean withdrew enough to look down at Castiel, his expression mock offended.
"I'll have you know that scent marking is very romantic and sensual."
"Yes of course," Castiel said magnanimously. Dean snorted a laugh, then he gave Castiel a tiny shove towards the entrance.
The repast hall was dimly lit, sparkling glass structures hanging from the rafters and pillars holding up the high ceiling. The fragrance of coffee mixed with the smell of burning herbs hit Castiel's nose. It wasn't exactly pleasant and he felt his eyes water slightly. He rubbed at them before following Dean to what looked to be a small fireplace with wooden benches arranged around it. On the stone tabletop above the fire was a big metal can of coffee. Mugs and spoons hung around a thin metal frame that was attached to the stone top. The stone table was covered by more mosaic and in the middle was a grate on which the coffee pot rested. There were about half a dozen such tables and there were further benches arranged in small alcoves that went all around the hall. Dean and Castiel were currently the only people at that table, but the other tables had about three to six patrons crowded around the coffee.
"Please, have a seat," Dean offered and Castiel sat down on one of the benches. He felt the heat of the low burning fire hit his legs. It reminded him of sitting in a sauna, especially with how humid it still was in this place. "So… Hagar has a very simple coffee etiquette. Just grab a cup and then pour the coffee yourself. The small jars have sugar and spices to add to it. I'll pay so don't worry about it," Dean explained. "I'll go get you something to eat." Castiel nodded and watched Dean slide towards the back end of the hall where there was something like a counter between two alcoves. Castiel carefully pulled a cup from the metal frame and set it on the mosaic top. He grabbed the big kettle by the fabric wrapped handle and poured dark liquid into his cup. It didn't smell as terrible as the odor in the repast hall had led him to believe. He pulled the tops off the small jars to peer inside. It seemed weird to him to put anything other than sugar and milk into his coffee. Since there didn't seem to be any milk Castiel merely spooned some sugar into his cup and stirred. He let his eyes travel through the hall, seeing that most Naga had clearly taken notice of him and were looking at him while talking to each other. All the Naga in here seemed to be men, all wearing longer light robes that were tied with colorful sashes. He heard bits and pieces of what they were saying, but only just enough to know that they were talking about him.
He was glad when Dean came back with a tray, but before he could reach Castiel, a group stopped him.
"Hey, long time no see!" Dean greeted them, his voice loud enough that it carried to Castiel.
"Hey, Dean. I know you were patrolling close to the fowl border, but why did you bring one of them home? Hunting trophy or what?" The group started laughing and the Naga who had spoken up grinned at them, clearly proud of his joke.
"Dude, don't you ever read the news?" Dean said with a frown. With his elbow he motioned towards where Castiels at. "This is Castiel. Castiel of Winchester."
"Aw, he named it," another Naga said, slapping his friend on the upper arm.
"Gordon, can it," Dean grunted.
"Come on, man," Gordon exclaimed, "we're having a great time here. Don't ruin it."
"Ruin it? I'm having a good time, trying to enjoy a cup of coffee with my husband. You're the one who's all up my scales sideways. You can be civil and say hello to him or you guys can kiss my tail feathers." Dean turned away from them and continued on to Castiel's table, he was shaking his head.
"Oh, come on, Princess. Don't be like that!" Gordon called and the men laughed. "We know that you took one for the team so that there's less hassle with the fowl." Gordon looked over at Castiel and lifted his cup towards him in a mock salutation. "But a husband? Come on, Dean."
"What does that even count? We read that you signed a marriage contract with the fowl," another Naga spoke up. "But we talked about it. A marriage is nothing like a mating."
"Oh, so you talked about it, Walt. Clearly whatever conclusions you reached are gonna be binding for all of Nagaland," Dean said disdainfully.
"Don't be dramatic, Winchester," Gordon said, reaching out to pat Dean's side. "You know well enough that whatever the cushion farts up in Winchester decide have very little bearing to the rest of the realm. Your court is not the voice of the people. You of all should know that best."
"Marriage is nothing like a mating," Walt insisted, clearly ignoring the tense discussion between Gordon and Dean. Castiel didn't know if he should be unsettled by Dean not denying Gordon's words. "You should get a proper wife. Enter a legitimate union."
"Not everyone's so backwards to say that the only union out of which could spring a child is a legitimate one," another man of the group said to Walt, but then he looked up at Dean. "But he's not wrong. The capital might be alright with your contract, but not everyone will see it this way. There are many people in the outskirts, Walt included, that will question the validity of your marriage to an angel male." Castiel frowned. Nobody had mentioned that potential issue before. Was there a chance that Naga would question the legitimacy of their marriage? The whole peace treaty was built upon the mutual acceptance of the marriage as a valid partnership. Castiel drank his coffee, frowning at the burning taste, then he got up from the bench. The Naga men, Dean included, clearly startled when Castiel approached them. Dean quickly put the tray down on the table, pushing over Gordon's coffee cup and spilling it over Roy who gave a grunt of protest.
"Guys, this is really none of your business," Dean said hastily, then he turned towards Castiel. "I'm so sorry, Castiel. They're dicks."
"Maybe so, but I hear your gossip anyway, no matter whether I'm sitting back there or standing here," Castiel said and looked at the Naga men, some of them flinching away under his gaze, others, like Gordon, staring right back at him.
"We don't like angels, you're not welcome," Gordon said and while his Naga buddies and Dean all hissed in surprise, Castiel was rather impressed that he didn't beat around the bush. But contrary to what Dean might think, his words didn't quite come as a revelation.
"Gordon!" Dean shouted sharply. "Watch your tongue when talking to a royal omega!" Even though Gordon hadn't been impressed by any of Dean's previous reprimands, this surprisingly made him flinch as if burned.
"What…?"
"My husband is an omega and even if you clearly don't respect me – neither as prince nor as your former fellow hunter – then you should at least respect my omega."
Silence descended on the table and now that it was quiet here, Castiel noticed that all conversation had been suspended in the hall. He looked around and saw all patrons of the coffee house stare at them.
"I should go," Castiel said and looked up at Dean, "I can find my way back on my own." He didn't wait for Dean's answer before he turned away from the group and steered towards the exit.
That exchange had been highly unpleasant. He was used to being under people's scrutiny and he clearly hadn't expected this to be easy. But he couldn't help feeling embarrassed.
"Great! Thank you!!" Castiel could hear Dean shout which was met with some other calls but the doors closed behind Castiel and he was back in the anteroom, where he startled two Naga who where in the middle of cleaning.
"Good evening," he said sharply, then he left that place too. The door behind him opened.
"Castiel! Wait!" Dean took no time at all to catch up, ducking low so that he didn't quite tower over Castiel, keeping up with Castiel's brisk pace. "Ouch!" Dean shouted when the umbrella poked him in the head. "Would you slow down? You're gonna collide with someone!" Castiel heaved a sigh and slowed down, which wasn't a bad idea because the Naga were slow to move out of his way, actually most didn't even seem to notice him right away. It was dark now, the last light of day fading away. Castiel clutched the handle of his umbrella and tensed his shoulders. His wings spread out slightly, pushing at Dean but he didn't move away as he usually would.
"I'm really sorry about that. Maybe I should have taken you to drink coffee in private instead of subjecting you to these guys. "
"A bit of an embarrassment is not an issue. You don't need to coddle me. But you could have told us back in Eden that people wouldn't accept the contract," Castiel said sharply. Dean heaved a sigh at that. Castiel noticed that he was carrying the tray with food with him and for some reason it made some of his anger lift.
"Most people will. You heard Wally. Hagar is a bit of a backwater place, Gordon and his buddies are backwater bags of dicks," Dean said but Castiel just shook his head in confusion. They came out of the path back into the square. Apparently they had just been gone long enough for the wagons to have been unloaded, but some servants were still lingering, securing the wagons and guiding the animals away. "We Winchesters might rule the country, but Nagaland's unification is recent. There are other powerful but smaller kingdoms, such as Campbell or Talbot. And there are many, many tribes all over the land. Most of them have their own rules." They reached the mansion and Castiel followed Dean into yet another antechamber. Castiel was already getting tired of all the time lost having to sit and watch Dean groom himself. Dean gave him the tray with food and Castiel was grateful both for the food and also Dean's apparent determination to rush through his cleaning.
"I've been to many different places during my service with the army," Dean continued, roughly scrubbing at his tail. "And I've seen old rules implemented. You know that I like both men and women, right?" Castiel nodded. "And that's usually okay, but many tribes will not acknowledge a mating between same sex couples based on the fact that they cannot have offspring. Naga are slow to reproduce, so I get where the old laws come from, but…" Dean sighed and let his head hang, temporarily suspending his scrubbing. "I've seen marriages and matings dissolved because a couple couldn't conceive within 10 years. Sometimes the period is even shorter. I've been in villages where Naga men used this rule to mate and then abandon as many women as they could. It sucks. Some people suck."
"I'm sorry to hear that," Castiel told him, unsure how to comfort Dean who clearly was upset. Dean sighed and then he continued to brush his tail. Dean remained silent and Castiel turned the tray around on his knees. "You shocked them into silence though. I was surprised." Dean had to chuckle at that.
"I did, didn't I?"
"Are Naga omegas scary or sacred?"
"Not quite sacred, but up there somewhere," Dean explained and rubbed his tail dry. "I know that you guys have an inverted hierarchy. Omegas are very rare here, so people guard them well. Not everyone treats them well however. Gordon might be a dick, but he at least knows how to respect an omega."
"Well, I suppose he's got at least one good thing going for him," Castiel joked and there was relief written all over Dean's face. Castiel tilted his head at him. "Were you worried?"
"You were angry at me, of course I was worried," Dean said and pulled at the cord so that a servant would open the doors for them. Unsurprisingly, it was dark inside the house and Castiel saw fairly little of its interior. It was less humid in here, a bit cooler and it smelled fresh, like rain and not suffocating like it did back in the coffee house. Dean stopped at a door and opened it for Castiel.
"This is the room closest to the one I use," Dean said, "it's not too big, at least for Naga standards, but I hope that it's to your liking." Castiel stepped into the room. It had the familiar high ceiling and cool mosaic patterns covered the entrance part of the room, but then changed into smooth terracotta tiles. There was a section of the room that was secluded away behind curtains and Castiel supposed they hid the bed. There were big glass doors leading to a veranda.
"It's nice," Castiel said and Dean grinned at him. Castiel walked over to the table to put down his tray with food and that's when he noticed a box sitting on a couch. "What's…" Castiel pointed towards it and Dean turned around to look at the couch. Castiel watched his husband flinch and then snatch the box away. His entire face was becoming red.
"Isn't that for me?" Castiel wondered, intrigued more by Dean's mysterious reaction than the box itself. It had looked rather plain, with a yellow ribbon around it and some lines on the cover that Dean was clearly trying to hide.
"Nope! No," Dean lied and Castiel eyed him suspiciously, but decided that it wasn't worth pursuing right now. He was rather hungry so he was more interested in the tray of food on the table before him.
"Do you want to stay here or go back to the coffee house?" Castiel asked and looked around the room. There were obviously no chairs but a small bench that hosted a flower pot that was probably the right height to serve as a chair. Castiel put a pillow on it and deemed it good enough for him. Dean seemed torn, turning the box around in his hands, but in the end he joined him.
"It's a shame that you couldn't get to enjoy the coffee," Dean said after a moment of silence in which he had watched Castiel eat. "It was a somewhat bad first impression of Winchester…"
"I wouldn't say that," Castiel told him kindly. "Though I am not entirely sure I understand why you built this village – Hagar was it?" Dean nodded. "Into a rainforest… You said different tribes have different preferences, but the humidity is certainly not doing this place any favors."
"Says the Lord of Deluge Town?" Dean teased, drumming his hands on the box.
"The climate in Rains Landing is different. Besides, there is plenty of fresh air. Here the foliage seems to be so thick that there's not a lot of wind."
"We Naga do like the cover of the trees," Dean said and the tone of his voice made Castiel look up. Dean lifted his hands and pointed his index fingers to the ceiling. "We're good at moving through the forest, better than most things that might chase us. And on top of that there can be no attacks from above."
"Attack from above?" Castiel asked and Dean turned his hands down to point towards Castiel. "Oh." He looked down at his plate. "Right."
"This got depressing fast, so maybe we should call it a night."
"Talking about the wars in our past is not depressing, it's a simple fact," Castiel reminded him and Dean shrugged. "Are we to continue on to the capital tomorrow?"
"Yes. As soon as the rain lets up. I suppose we should be on our way in the afternoon," Dean said, then he pulled the box away when Castiel made a grab for it and held it over his head. "I said this wasn't for you!"
"I'm pretty sure you're lying," Castiel replied. Dean winked at him and then he went to the door. "Good night, Dean."
"Good night, Castiel," his husband said and then the door closed behind Dean with a soft click.
Castiel allowed himself to heave a sigh and to let his wings slowly spread out. He was exhausted. This house wasn't quiet; he could hear the raucous laughter echo outside his door and the flame in his lamp hissed in the humid air. Castiel got up from his makeshift chair and looked around the room, finding a door leading to a bathroom of sorts. He took the time to wash and comb out his hair, then he went back into his room and padded over to the curtained section. A mattress lay on the floor, surrounded by colorful rugs and piled high with pillows and blankets. His travelling trunk was standing next to it. Castiel changed into a short-sleeved shirt made out of light material and put the oil lamp on the trunk. He settled down in bed and dimmed the light of the oil lamp.
In the darkness he listened to the sound of the house, of his new family speaking to each other, their voices ebbing and flowing, a wordless, senseless white noise that kept away the unfamiliar silence of Hagar.