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It’s Sam who first notices that Castiel is acting fucking weird. Dean tries not to let it bug him that Sam notices first. That kid can be really observant when he wants to be – probably from so many years of kissing up to teachers. Still, Dean probably should have been the one to notice.
“Cas didn’t sleep last night,” Sam points out casually one morning while they are doing research on the latest case involving some possibly brainwashed co-eds.
“Huh?” Dean says, halfway between taking a bite of a doughnut and chugging some orange juice. Of course Sam must have bought it because it’s some organic type that probably cost three times as much. Still tastes the same though. “Was he marathoning some crap show on Netflix again?”
“I don’t think so,” Sam says, in his ‘I’m trying to be casual but I’m actual really worried’ tone. “I came out of my room in the middle of the night last night and he was just sitting at the table.”
“Probably just doing research on the case or something,” Dean says, between bites.
“But there were no books and he was just staring into space. When I asked him what he was doing he looked really surprised like he didn’t even realize I was there. And lately he always looks like he’s in pain. Like he has a really bad headache or something.”
“Sounds like normal messed up angel behavior to me. Maybe networking with the heavenly host is giving him headaches.”
“Dean,” Sam shoots him a look that is meant to tell him he’s not taking this seriously enough, “I think you should talk to him.”
“Why should I talk to him?” Dean asks, irritated now. “You’re the one who noticed.” He tries not to think too hard about how he’s really pissed off with himself for not noticing first.
“I think he’s more likely to tell you what’s really going on.” Sam gives him a pointed look. “You two are pretty close.”
“Come on, Sam, I’m not his mother. If he has something he wants to tell us – he’ll tell us.”
Except, he doesn’t. And the weird behavior just gets worse. First Cas won’t ride in the impala and insists on meeting them everywhere. He seems distracted and can’t concentrate on things. And he has dark bags under his eyes from not sleeping. Sam just watches him with a worried look on his face while Dean gets more and more fed up.
The final straw comes one day when Cas heads out at the same time as they do for a case and then disappears for hours. Dean is sick with worry and snaps at Sam more times than he can count. Sam just looks at him grimly and doesn’t respond. When they get back to the bunker Cas is there – sitting at a table again and staring blankly into space. Dean has had enough.
“Where the hell were you?” he asks, probably more angrily than he should have, judging by the way Castiel looks at him in surprise, like he wasn’t even aware that they had come in. He is quick to wipe away the pained look on his face.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to join you and Sam today,” Cas says quietly. “I had other matters I had to deal with.”
Dean takes a deep breath and sits down next to Cas at the table. Sam sits across from them. “What matters, Cas?” Dean asks. “I think it’s time you were straight with us.”
Cas looks down at the table. “If you don’t tell us then we can’t help you,” Sam adds gently.
“It’s nothing that you can help me with,” Cas says, still staring down at the table. And, God, is that a blush? Why the hell is Cas blushing?
Sam obviously notices too and starts to look uncomfortable. “I think I’m going to head to my room now and get an early night. It’s been a long day,” Sam says, standing up and pushing in his chair. “I hope you feel better, Cas.”
Cas doesn’t respond, just continues to stare at the table and his cheeks are now bright red. Dean glares at Sam’s back as he walks away, wishing that his eyes were actually daggers so that he could kill Sam for leaving him alone in this awkward situation. But he can’t exactly abandon Cas when he’s like this. Who knows what ridiculous secret he’s trying to keep to himself this time.
“Cas,” Dean starts, “look at me.” He doesn’t continue until Castiel’s face is angled towards him, although he still won’t meet Dean’s eyes. “What the hell is going on?”
“It doesn’t have anything to do with you or Sam,” Cas says hesitantly.
“Except it does,” Dean replies evenly. “You live with us. You’re not sleeping, you’re not showing up to help with cases, and you look like you’re constantly on the verge of losing it. Plus you’re affecting me because Sam is worried and won’t leave me the hell alone about it.” He leaves out the part about how worried he is himself.
“Sam is worried,” Cas repeats back slowly.
“Yes! What else are you wanting here? Just tell me what’s wrong so that we can fix it.” Dean has had far too much of Cas trying to sacrifice himself by hiding things from them.
“I can tell you,” Cas says, “but there’s nothing you or Sam can do. I’m sorry for causing worry and for not being there to help with the case today.”
“Just tell me what the issue is and we’ll see about that.” Dean replies. They’ve dealt with enough crazy crap in the past that he’s confident they can figure it out.
Cas looks away from him again. “It is an angel issue. Nothing to do with you or Sam.”
“I kinda figured,” Dean says. “But we’re friends, right?”
Cas nods. “Of course, Dean.”
“Friends help each other.” As Dean expected Cas looks like he can’t deny what Dean is saying. Pulling the friend card always works with him.
“It involves… my wings,” Cas finally says.
“Your wings?” Dean squints at him, confused. Of course he knows Castiel is an angel, but sometimes he forgets that he has wings. “Even though you’re in a human vessel?”
“It’s not normally an issue,” Cas says. “But because I have been in this vessel for so long I haven’t been giving them proper attention. They’ve started to become painful.”
“Painful,” Dean says. “Is that why you haven’t been sleeping?”
“Yes,” Cas admits. “When I lie down they tend to hurt more. And when I’m in constrained places like the Impala.”
That explains why he hasn’t wanted to ride in the car with them lately. “So what can you do to fix them?” Dean asks.
“Fix them?” Cas is looking at him blankly like he has no idea what Dean is talking about.
“Do angels have wing doctors or groomers or whatever?”
“Oh, I see what you’re asking. Professional help isn’t what is required in this kind of situation. Normally angels help each other.”
“Help each other with what?”
Cas still isn’t looking at him. “Touching, Dean. My wings have just gone too long without being touched. It’s getting to be quite uncomfortable and every day is a little worse.”
“Can’t you just touch them yourself?” Dean asks, and goddammit, now his face is getting red.
Cas shakes his head. “It doesn’t work that way. For one thing I can’t really reach them. And touching them myself doesn’t have the same effect.”
“Okay.” Dean pauses, trying to assess the situation. This whole thing is becoming more and more ridiculous by the minute. “So what you’re saying is that you need someone else to touch them. Does it have to be another angel? Or could Sam or I do it?”
“I’m not sure that you would be comfortable with that, Dean. It’s quite an intimate act. Not one that is usually performed by friends.”
“You mean, it’s usually… something you would do with a female angel.”
Now Castiel turns to look at him directly. “Angels do not have genders, Dean.”
Oh. Right. Dean swallows. Maybe Sam had the right idea when he said he was tired and escaped from this whole thing. “Well it’s not like you have the best relationship with the other angels at the moment. And you can’t just keep going the way things are now.” He can’t deny that he hates the fact that Cas has been in pain. And if he could do something about it – even if it’s a little embarrassing-
Cas nods, still looking reluctant. “Do you think we should get Sam so that he can also participate?”
“God, no.” This was going to be weird enough without Sam getting involved too. “He needs his beauty sleep.”
“That’s good,” Cas says, looking strangely pleased. “If I have to do this, I would rather it was just with you, Dean.”
Dean feels the blood rushing to his cheeks at Cas’s words. He’s pretty sure that the idea of some innocent feather touching shouldn’t be making him react this way. Hopefully Cas won’t notice.
Cas pushes the chair back and stands up from the table.
“Where are you going?” Dean asks quickly.
“The bedroom. We need privacy for this.”
Dean groans at the idea of a bed being involved but reluctantly follows him.
***
They go back to Dean’s room and he does his best to clear away the empty beer bottles. He hadn’t been expecting to bring anyone back to his room - much less Cas. The day had definitely gone in an unexpected direction.
He sits down awkwardly on the bed and Cas does as well, although he’s about as far away from Dean as he could possibly be. “Cas,” Dean asks, “how am I supposed to touch your wings if you’re all the way over there?” He needs to get this over with as quickly as possible before they both die of embarrassment.
“Oh.” Cas moves self-consciously closer until he’s just within arm’s reach. “I’ll make my wings visible.”
“This isn’t going to make me blind, right?” Dean asks, only halfway joking.
“No. If it’s just my wings I should be able to control the frequency so that it’s safe for you.”
Dean nods, not sure what he is expecting. Cas’s wings are hazy at first, like something just out of sight, but gradually he starts to make out the shape of them and then the color. At first he thinks they’re a metallic grey, almost like metal, but as he starts to look more closely he can see that they’re actually made up of many different colors melting together like in a prism. They’re beautiful. He wants to touch them but then notices that Cas is looking nervously at his hands.
“Cas,” he asks hesitantly, and then notices that in an effort to see the wings better he’s moved a lot closer than he meant to. “Is it okay if I-?”
Cas nods and Dean leans forward and touches the wing closest to him with the lightest of touches. The sound Cas makes in response is almost pornographic and goes straight to his gut. He pulls away.
“Did I hurt you?” he asks. Somehow he knows what the answer is going to be.
“No, Dean.” Cas turns to look at him. “It feels good – it feels good when you touch them.” Cas’s cheeks are flushed again and his pupils seem to have dilated so much that the blue is only barely visible. It makes Dean’s breath catch.
Slowly he reaches out again and touches the feathers, lightly at first and then with a firmer pressure. They don’t feel like bird feathers at all, or hair for that matter. They’re warm, almost like living things themselves. Cas’s eyes flutter closed as he touches them. He doesn’t make any more noise but Dean can tell that he’s having a hard time staying still under Dean’s hands. He’s responsive as hell and Dean tries to ignore the fact that he doesn’t think he’s ever been so turned on. He pulls his hand away for a moment to try to regain control and Cas makes a noise of frustration.
“Don’t stop. Please, Dean,” he says.
Hearing his name said that way by Cas is almost too much and Dean takes another deep breath to steady himself. It’s clearly too long of a pause for Cas. He opens his eyes and pulls Dean closer so that he is almost in Cas’s lap. Slowly Dean moves his hands back to Cas’s wings and gently but firmly moves from top to bottom touching each and every feather. Cas gradually leans against him until they are chest to chest and Cas is breathing hotly against his neck.
Dean feels like he is burning up. It’s like he is hyper aware of every place where he is touching Cas. Cas moans again and Dean can’t resist anymore and kisses him, running his hands firmly over Cas’s wings as he does. Cas seems to melt against him, making little sounds of pleasure and pulling Dean closer. Dean is surprised when he realizes Cas is hard as well.
“I thought this was just an angel thing,” he says in confusion.
Cas’s eyes blink open and he looks frustrated at the momentary lack of contact. “I’m in a human vessel at the moment. Maybe you’ve noticed?”
“Oh, I’ve noticed,” Dean says. “I just didn’t think you had.” He gestures between the two of them.
“I have now,” Cas says, and kisses him.
***
The next day Cas joins them in the Impala when they’re headed out for a case.
“You look a lot better,” Sam says casually. “I take it Dean was able to help you work things out?”
“Yes, he was very thorough. His hands brought me a great deal of pleasure,” Cas says, and Dean wants to die.
By the look on Sam’s face he’s also very sorry that he asked. “Well, that’s great. I mean, I’m happy for you two.”
Dean groans and turns the volume on the radio up as high as it will go to drown him out. But looking in the rear view mirror he can see Cas is smiling, and he can’t stop himself from smiling back.