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“Sam, I need to speak to you about something quite important that has nothing to do with breaking up with you.” Michael smiled at Sam’s confusion – where in the world had Michael learned that saying they needed to talk often meant a breakup was imminent? “Really, it’s two things, but they’re somewhat related.”
“All right. Give me a second to finish this note and put my book away, and you’ll get my undivided attention.” It took longer than a second, which Dean would have called out quickly, but it was less than a minute and Michael seemed to have a bit more patience. The note was tucked into the book as a bookmark to come back to when Sam once again was free, but in the meantime, this way he wasn’t likely to forget where he was. “What’s up?”
“I’m due for a molt.” A molt. Angels had wings, yes, but they went through shedding and regrowth instead of just using their grace to keep the wings in pristine condition? Why? Michael must have anticipated or read the questions, because he continued, “As long as we’re in Heaven, our wings are fine, but spending time on Earth causes reactions. Being an archangel, my wings are particularly sensitive to being away from Heaven.”
“How did Gabriel survive so long on Earth?” Sam blurted out before he could think. The question seemed foolish even as he asked it; molts were not fatal, just annoying, and Gabriel was well-known for having tricks up his sleeve. “Sorry, you’re probably about to answer that question by explaining why you’re telling me about this…”
“As the main reason angels spend much time on Earth is because of a bond with humans, most of us about to molt seek out a human we can trust to help us deal with the annoyance of hard-to-reach itchy feathers,” Michael said. “In my case, I am asking you. Gabriel, I suspect, never had trouble finding a willing human to care for his wings. He’s quite the human-lover, in many senses of the word.”
“Of course… but now I have another question.” Which could be the other thing Michael wanted to talk to Sam about, really. It wouldn’t be a surprise that Michael had noticed things. “Castiel’s not an archangel, but he’s been down here so much more, and was even cut off from Heaven for months because of his rebellion. While I’m grateful that’s fixed, shouldn’t he have gone through molt?”
“He did, once, which he suffered through on his own.” That was kind of a shock; Sam would have thought he would ask Dean for help. “You’re right that he should be due again. That’s the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. When I said I was surprised Castiel didn’t try to bond with you to protect you from Lucifer, of course his explanation makes sense, but there was more to it than just protecting you. He, too, has feelings for you, and would not ask any other human to care for his wings. I know that you might have concerns about being bonded to me, and I know he’ll never ask because of it, but you and Castiel have my full permission for anything the two of you choose to do together. Groom his wings, have sex, allow him to possess you for whatever reason he might need to – I know how much he means to you, and you mean to him, and I encourage the two of you to pursue it.”
“Have you told Castiel this?” Sam asked, to buy himself a little time to process. It’s not that he hadn’t suspected ever since Michael first brought Castiel up while explaining how this worked to Dean, but it was still a bit surprising, given his cultural perspective.
Michael shrugged. “I’ve told him that as long as you have no objections I was granting my permission for whatever the two of you decide to do, but like you, he’s uncertain that you would welcome it and therefore has no plan to bring it up with you. That was the other thing I wanted to talk to you about. He’s about due for a molt, too, and may have even started. If you’d like to talk to him together, that makes sense to me. In the meantime, though, I can feel an itch. Should I wait for Castiel so you can see both of our wings together, or would you be less overwhelmed one at a time?”
“If you can stand it, I’d like to talk to Cas,” Sam decided. “I think he’s hanging out in the park?”
Castiel was, and he looked somewhat uncomfortable to Sam. Not that he ever really looked comfortable, but this was more than that. “Cas? Hey. Are you starting your molt?”
“The itching began a few hours ago,” Castiel said. “Sam, I’m sure Michael has told you that I would not be comfortable with anyone but you, but that doesn’t obligate you to help me with this. If you would prefer to follow your own cultural expectations, I completely understand.”
“I’m still getting my head around it, but my heart is saying that this is not only fine, it’s how this is meant to work out,” Sam admitted, and Castiel’s face lit up in a soft smile. “Come on. You two will have to teach me how to do this, and it’s probably easier for one of you to point things out on the other’s wing instead of trying to describe it.”