Work Text:
Gabriel doesn’t really understand the interest humans have in his wings.
He gets it in the way that they’re an appendage humans don’t have, so there’s a natural interest in the unknown, but overall, he doesn’t get the appeal. To him, they’re just another limb, like an arm or a leg. And he’s especially amused by the Winchester's knowledge of angel wings, or rather, lack thereof. For hunters with thousands of lore books at their fingertips, they’re fairly uneducated. You’d think they’d spend more time researching the creatures they spend hours upon hours hanging around with. Not that there’s much about angels around, but still.
In all honesty, incorrect preconceived notions, combined with confirmation bias from incorrect sources, seem to be causing more trouble for them than if they were totally clueless at all. Because, sure, wings are normally soft, fluffy, and harmless—what good would they be for grooming otherwise?—but they’re not like that all the time. Sometimes, especially for creatures designed to weather centuries and wage countless wars, they need to be hard, sharp, and dangerous.
Castiel and Gabriel in particular have fallen into the habit of keeping their wings particularly benign, if not just for the safety of the humans they keep company with. And, besides, it’s good for cuddling. That’s not to say that they aren’t sturdy when they’re soft and harmless. Wings are like another appendage; they’re good for dragging things closer, expressing emotions, and occasionally knocking his stupid younger brother over the head.
It’s easy enough to keep their wings manifested inside the bunker—see the aforementioned grooming rituals and cuddle sessions—so the brothers have eventually gotten used to seeing them around, but it was trialing at first.
"Dude, am I hallucinating?" Dean asked abruptly, staring up from his breakfast at Gabriel, who had miraculously graced them with his presence this early in the morning.
Sam glances up from whatever article he was scrolling through—Gabriel is too far away to see if it’s hunting-related or not—and blinks in surprise.
"I can assure you that you are not experiencing any hallucinogenic effects from your bacon, Dean." Castiel intones seriously. "Gabriel has decided to manifest his wings."
"What?" Gabriel says, almost sounding defensive. "It’s comfortable."
Dean stares at Gabriel a little longer before turning back to his breakfast. "It’s too fucking early for this shit."
"What happened to the whole ‘burning your eyes out’ thing?" Sam questions, eyes lingering on the archangel’s golden wings.
"I could make them do that. But only if you ask nicely." Gabriel winks at Sam, who rolls his eyes but can’t stop himself from smiling.
Dean fake gags at their antics. "Keep the flirting until after I eat something, alright?"
"Aww," Gabriel coos mockingly. "You’re just jealous that Cassie isn’t showing his." Gabriel nudges the other angel with one of his wings. "C’mon, baby bro, show ‘em off."
"They’re not as impressive as yours," Castiel says, somewhat insecurely.
Gabriel smacks him on the head, and Castiel looks over at him, annoyed. "That’s not true." He chides. "And even if it were, lover boy over here would drool over them anyway."
Dean starts to growl out some sort of response, but Cas blushes, seemingly flattered by the archangel’s compliment, so his complaint dies off into a general noise of annoyance.
"If you’re gonna continue to subject me to your presence," he says instead, "at least appreciate the food that I made." He motions to the kitchen counter, where plates of eggs, bacon, and pancakes sit, still steaming from the stove.
"That’s the first good idea I’ve heard you say all day!" Gabriel exclaims, sauntering over to the counter and looking over the sparse collection of breakfast food offered to him.
He drags an empty plate that’s just out of reach closer to him with one of his wings and piles the remaining pancakes onto it. With a snap of his fingers, the stack sags under the weight of whipped cream, chocolate syrup, and at least four different types of candy, including M&Ms and gummy bears.
"You’re disgusting," Sam says fondly, eyeing Gabriel’s plate uneasily as he settles himself at the table next to Sam. Gabe grins, stretching his wing out behind Sam and tucking it around him in the same way someone might fake a yawn and stretch their arm out over the back of their partner's seat.
"But you love me." He teases back, cheekily.
Dean huffs and turns his attention back towards his own angel, hoping to erase the image of the archangel flirting with his brother from his mind.
So, yeah, keeping their wings manifested was a bit of a learning curve, but no one ever said the Winchesters didn’t learn fast. Castiel eventually grew comfortable with leaving his out, and Dean coos over them just as much as Gabriel predicted. In no time at all, it felt more weird for them not to see the angel’s wings at all, even though it was necessary to go out in public. That is not to say that the first hunt they went on together with their wings out wasn’t almost a disaster as well.
It’s demons.
Because it’s always demons. No matter what they do or who they kill, there are always some demons wreaking havoc somewhere doing something they’re not supposed to do. It’s practically routine at this point. But that doesn’t mean it gets any easier.
Gabriel isn’t even exactly sure where they ended up, but it’s some huge, desolate warehouse in the middle of absolutely fucking nowhere—so much so, in fact, that both he and Castiel feel comfortable enough unleashing their wings to aid in the fight. It’s only natural to have all of their tools at hand, and after spending so much time having them out, he feels a little unbalanced without the weight sprouting from his back.
If this decision alarms the Winchesters, they give no reaction, but the demons satisfyingly cower away at the sight of the two angels with their wings released threateningly into the visible realm. It doesn’t really take too long for the four of them to disband this batch of demons, but long enough for the brothers to feel out of breath. This group seems particularly resilient, and Gabriel doesn’t notice until it's almost too late that Sam is starting to fall behind, getting sloppy and clumsy with fatigue.
He notices it about the time that the demon tries to slam a knife into the hunter’s back, about the time that Castiel calls out a warning of his own, and about the time that Sam himself realizes he’s in danger, twisting his body fruitlessly in attempts to get out of harm's way. But there’s not enough time. In fact, there's only really enough time for Gabriel to stretch out one of his wings in between his partner and the demon, taking the blow for him. The demon is quickly dealt with right after, and Gabriel is at Sam’s side in seconds, helping him off the ground from where he had accidentally flung him with the impact.
"Right, sorry about that," Gabriel says, though it’s mostly out of courtesy. He can’t really find it in himself to apologize for flinging him a few feet when the other option was for him to wind up dead. His feathers ruffle at the mere thought.
Sam doesn’t respond, instead tugging his wing away from where it rests against his back and combing his hand through it. Gabriel lets him do this but can’t help but send Castiel a confused look. The other angel looks just as confused as he does, but Dean is wearing a similar look of concern, which is unusual at his expense.
"You alright there, Sam-a-lam?" Gabriel asks, trying to figure out what's got his boyfriend all riled up.
"Am I-" Sam starts out, cutting himself off in disbelief. "Gabriel, you took a hit for me." Sam stares at him emphatically. Gabriel doesn’t understand why this is a big deal. "That demon stabbed you in the wing." Sam continues when Gabriel just stares at him.
"Yeah, well, it was my wing or your back. That’s a no-brainer."
"But that’s got to hurt. Are you bleeding somewhere I can’t see? Cas, is he okay?" Sam directs his line of questioning to the other angel, hoping to get some answers.
Cas just looks at him with the same level of confusion that Gabriel did. "Sam, I assure you, my brother is unharmed."
"Are you serious?" Dean chimes in from Cas’s side, looking as disbelieving as Sam feels. "But your wings are sensitive as all hell. If I so much as pull on a feather too hard during grooming, you complain about me hurting you."
"First of all, gross." Gabriel wrinkles his nose in faux disgust. "I don’t need to hear about your mating habits."
"Oh, as if Sam doesn’t groom your wings too." Dean snarks.
Gabriel continues as if Dean hadn’t spoken at all. "Secondly, of course, our wings are sensitive during grooming. They’re soft and fluffy and need to be warm and inviting. But we don’t keep them like that during battle. That’d be ridiculous."
"What do you mean?" Sam sounds genuinely confused.
"Here, look." He extends one of his wings. "Soft and fluffy, right?"
Sam nods.
"And now, sharp, durable, and dangerous."
Sam reaches out to touch the archangel’s wing carefully, and he finds that he is right. They’re not frail and easy to injure like normal but rather seem to be made out of something like metal. Castiel has subconsciously mirrored Gabriel’s wings with his own, and Dean pokes at them inquisitively.
"That's…" Sam starts, but seems to be lost for words.
"Practical." Gabriel finishes for him.
"Why didn’t we know about this before?" Dean demands, sounding almost upset about being left out of the loop.
"There’s no reason for us to wear our wings as weapons around the bunker, Dean," Cas explains gently. "Not when it would be dangerous for you."
"I cut a demon’s head off with my wings like this." Gabriel says bluntly. "Imagine what might happen if you startled me."
Dean seems to get the point, if not feeling a little intimidated by it.
"So, you're okay?" Sam asks.
"That's what you got out of all this?" Dean exclaims, somewhat bewildered.
"Oh, sorry for making sure my boyfriend is okay." Sam snarks back, coming down from the rush of adrenaline and nerves.
"I'm fine, Sam," Gabriel reassures, pulling the hunter closer with his wings now that they're harmless again.
Without much thought, Gabriel flies them both out of that desolate place, trusting Castiel to handle the situation and bring Dean home when ready. It's time for the wing cuddles he was raving so much about earlier. There's no better way to reassure both yourself and your slightly traumatized partner than to hold them in your arms and cocoon them in your wings.
So, sure, Gabriel doesn’t really understand the interest humans have in his wings, but in moments like this, he thinks he can get the appeal.