Chapter Text
The world isn't as it seems. All those creatures that live in fairy tales and scary stories walk among the humans they devour and torment, their population kept in check only by humans that have opened their eyes to the horror around them. They've taken on the name 'Hunters' and stand between innocent humans and the evil that won't live in peace with them. It seems like a good set-up, the perfect justice; if it hurts humans kill it. There's nothing more simple. And the two hunters that excel at this line of thought, that have overcome a demon's plans of chaos, the rising of Lucifer, the apocalypse, a breakout of Leviathans, and an angel war... are the Winchester brothers, Sam and Dean.
After the infamous angel war, the two decided a vacation was much needed. They would normally hole up in their bunker, away from the world and the problems in it, but this time they chose to go on a road trip. Though they've lived on the road for years, ever since their father started hunting, they never really got the chance to just take a road trip that didn't involve work. Driving to the job was always more fun for them than doing the job. So, keeping in mind that this is for relaxation only, the two packed the Impala and grabbed Castiel. The trip just wouldn't be a family thing without the angel.
Their current location is a small town in Colorado, a couple miles from where they hunted a Wengido together, the three sitting in the bar with a bottle before each of them. They've already located a hotel and checked in, so the next step is usually relaxing in a smoke filled room with drunk patriots all around. There are a few hot women, one in particular catching Dean's eye. It's been a while since he last got laid and he's feeling the itch something terrible.
“Don't even think it,” Sam murmurs.
“What?”
“I know what you're thinking, Dean,” the taller male comments. “And stop. We're here for family bonding time, that doesn't include locking Cas and me out of the hotel while you bang some random chick.”
Dean pouts at that, yet lets his vivid green eyes follow the flirtatious woman a bit longer. She sends him a wink and a silent kiss. It's not hard to imagine she'd find him attractive. Hell, who wouldn't. He holds a height of 6' 1 1/4”, his skin a nice tan as it stretches tight over lithe muscle, and his eyes are like emeralds. He runs a hand through short brown hair, smirking playfully her way.
The hunter suppresses a yelp when Sam smacks him, the other getting quite a few looks himself. Sam has dishwater blonde hair, a blonde that's almost brown, and it's long enough to brush his chin. His eyes are large puppy eyes with a mixture of colors within the blue iris, a weapon used to get exactly what he wants without even realizing it. He's around 6' 4 1/2” tall, his skin equally tan from their time outside hunting. The only difference between the two... is the fact Dean doesn't know how to control his libido.
The busty woman with long raven hair moves over to the bar, leaning forward ever so slightly so her skirt shows a bit more thigh, and Dean nearly falls out of his chair looking. The table is pushed forward and he can hear a grunt from across the object. He's accidentally shoved it into Cas. Dean sends an apologetic glance to the angel, those huge blue eyes caught between confusion and innocence pulling him in. Castiel has quickly become a piece of Dean he can't get rid of. Ever since they met, when the angel pulled Dean from Hell, he's been like the hunter's extra limb.
He feels Castiel's absence like he would a missing arm... it's devastating and difficult to ignore. Should he be given a choice, Dean would never allow Castiel to leave for more than a few minutes. Especially after his time as a vulnerable human, where the angel was killed by a reaper. Dean thought his heart stopped right there in his chest at the sight. He knows it dropped to his stomach.
“Sorry, Cas,” Dean grins sheepishly.
The angel nods in forgiveness, returning to his beer. He's no slouch in looks either, which gives the patrons of the bar a double whammy. Castiel's eyes are a heavenly blue that always seems to lock Dean in a staring contest. Any smile is rare and minute, yet speaks volumes to those privy to it. Castiel stands at 5' 8”, his inability to grasp the majority of human references nothing if not adorable, and yet... he carries this domineering aura that's likely due to the massive power he has at his disposal. Confidence isn't lacking in the shorter male, nor is knowledge as long as more mundane things aren't brought up.
The room is coated in a haze of cigarette smoke. The smell of tobacco and, in some places, vomit is only covered by too much perfume on the women and even more alcohol at the bar. There are a few ceiling fans that hum quietly as they turn, the occasional clack of pool balls colliding echoing in the bar. All this is lost on Dean, though, as he gazes into Castiel's eyes.
A glare from the bar tears him from the trance that's become frequent with the presence of the angel. Those green pools turn toward the glare, finding the woman of before watching with a raised brow. Her skin is lily white and her eyes are electric blue, something the hunter normally wouldn't pass up. He groans at the prospect of doing so tonight.
“Hey, why don't you get us another round, Dean?” Sam wonders.
“You just want to rub it in my face, don't you?” the shorter Winchester grumbles. “Oh look, Dean, she's just your type but you promised not to bang any random women. Go look but don't touch. You're such an ass, Sammy.”
“Don't whine, Jerk, it makes you sound like a chick.”
“Don't call me a chick, bitch, that's your role.”
Cas doesn't say a thing, though he obviously wants to question the remarks. He's learned to pick his battles carefully with the Winchesters, so he'll bypass this one... it'll likely just get Dean angry with him. He doesn't take the older brother's anger well, it makes him feel far too inadequate and worthless. Strange how that works. The man that felt he was too worthless to be saved from Hell and he manages to make an angel of the lord feel just as low. Dean never ceases to amaze Castiel.
The angel watches as Dean stands, making his way toward the bar with a sway to his hips he probably never knew he had. It's minute and can only be noticed if one really looks for it, but it's there. Castiel never would've noticed had he not been the one to put the hunter's soul back together. In that moment he knew everything about Dean; his habits, likes, dislikes, personality traits, and what they all stemmed from. He never told the other this, though, and never let on to knowing anything more than what he's been told. He respects the hunter enough he would never hold it above him.
The woman is smiling widely when Dean saunters over, the hunter ordering three more drinks before turning to face her. She's beautiful, her red painted lips parting just so. Every movement she makes screams 'invitation' and it's driving Dean crazy. He never should've promised such a ridiculous thing in the first place!
“Hey there, handsome,” she purrs. “I'm Sage, what's your name?”
“Dean,” he offers with a teasing smile.
“Mm... you certainly shouldn't have a problem picking someone up,” Sage grins. “How about I take you home with me and save you from the mobs of ravenous women?”
“I wish I could,” he sighs. “I'm here with my family, though, and I promised I wouldn't pick up any random women. But damn I wish I hadn't.”
She frowns a moment, an almost venomous look within those blue eyes. That's enough to get Dean wary about her. He made a mistake trusting his libido once before, at the hands of an Amazon, and he won't soon make it again. The woman scoots closer, that seductive air about her once more.
He'll give her props, she doesn't take no for an answer, and he's tempted to just give in and have his fun. Unfortunately, he's a man of his word. The three beers are set before him and he reaches out to pick them up, however her hand grips his. It's cold, which is weird in the stifling bar, and it catches his attention faster than any words can.
“You're quite the ladies' man, aren't you?” she muses playfully. “Probably gag at the thought of being with a man, right? Probably fear commitment even more, am I right?”
“... Men? Hell no! And don't even get me started on commitment! That's a fucking taboo!”
“Is that your friend over there?” she asks curiously. “He's just as hot as you, maybe he'd like to spend the night with me.”
“Yeah, but good luck catching his interest. He's bi-sexual, but the guy's completely oblivious when it comes to emotions. I really have to get back to my table now. I don't mean to blow you off, but tonight just isn't my night.”
She grips his collar and yanks him in roughly, smashing their lips together in a passionate kiss. Dean's knees nearly go weak at the rough treatment, always liking a good demanding woman. Come to think of it, every woman he's hooked up with has taken lead. He shrugs that off, humming into the kiss as Sage's hand grips the back of his neck sensually.
When he's released, the hunter stumbles back to his table and nearly spills the beers in his hands. Sam and Cas save them, the angel taking Dean's as well until he sits down. He's glad he did, as Dean misses his seat on the first attempt and lands on his ass. As he corrects himself and sits on his chair, Sage walks past the table. She pats Castiel on the shoulder and winks over at Dean, yet the angel looks less than intrigued by her and she moves on.
“Well... that was weird,” Sam comments as he brings his beer up to drink.
“Damn she was a good kisser,” Dean breathes out. “I think it killed a couple braincells with the heat... what do you think?”
“I think you can't afford to lose anymore braincells,” the taller brother snorts in humor.
“She seemed very cold,” Cas comments, missing Dean's remark. “Like she was extremely angry at something. What did you say to her, Dean? That wink had underlying wrath in it.”
“How would you know that?”
“I'm an angel, I can read the emotions of others,” he points out. “She was very aroused aside from being angry and there was something about her I didn't trust... something about her aura.”
Dean shrugs, not really caring further than checking the woman out a bit more. Eventually, Sage leaves on the arm of a tall muscular man wearing biker clothes. With the hunter's eye candy gone, he has little more to keep him occupied than drinking.
It isn't long into their 'bonding' time that a fourth member of their group arrives. Gabriel never actually died, the ass just hid behind another illusion. Yeah Lucifer crashed the party the gods were throwing, however the archangel trapped in a double life expected it. He used Sam and Dean to keep Lucifer's focus off him, and then used his power as both Loki and Gabriel to cast out an illusion even Lucifer couldn't see through. That asshole was holding back on everyone! He rejoined the gang after the angel war. Figures he'd show up after all the hard work is over.
What Dean didn't expect, however, was the fact said trickster went all doe-eyed for Sam. That was a curve ball that hit him straight in the face... hard. He tries not to think about it, but it's so hard to ignore when they're getting separate hotel rooms and Gabriel is taking up so much of Sam's attention. He knows they're sleeping together, he just doesn't know how serious they are.
“Hey, guys,” Gabriel grins. “Sorry I'm late.”
“I'm not,” Dean mutters.
The childish male sticks his tongue out at Dean, sitting down and stretching his 5' 8” frame along the chair. He can never just sit in a chair, he has to lounge in them. His eyes are a strange hue reminiscent of gold, which catches attention everywhere he roams, and his brown locks a mess upon his head. Dean's fairly certain the guy has never touched a comb. He catches the man's hand lingering to the edge of the table, knowing it's about to drop down onto his brother's thigh, and kicks hard. Gabriel yelps at the pain blossoming in his shin, glaring at Dean before drawing his hand away from Sam.
He's never come across a man so protective over his grown brother. Then again, Dean pretty much raised Sam, so it's to be expected on some level. That warning look that reminds the trickster of Sam's many bitch-faces surfaces again. He knows better than to push Dean too far, the man knows far too many ways to hurt him... not to mention the fact he knows how to kill him.
“Wow, you look completely smashed,” he points out. “What the hell happened to 'I'm immune to alcohol, it's more of a vitamin by now'?”
“... I haven't even drank that much,” Dean murmurs in surprise. “I mean... I'm positive I haven't. Sammy, how much have I drank?”
“Not much, only about three or four. That shouldn't even give you a good buzz.”
“Maybe tonight just isn't your best night,” Gabriel shrugs. “Cas, why don't you take Dean back to the hotel? That way we know for certain he gets there in one piece.”
The younger angel nods his head and carefully stands up. He's surprised the alcohol is actually getting to his system, it never has before, yet brushes it off as recovering from being human. He's found that he's suffering more human quirks than he used to... like rolling his eyes or shrugging. Most of his bad habits have been picked up from the Winchesters, as he's spent the most time around them.
Carefully, Castiel lifts Dean out of his seat and allows the hunter to lean on him. They make their way toward the door, leaving Sam to Gabriel. That's probably the worst idea ever and, had Dean been more sober at the time, the hunter would've refused leaving up and down. As it stands, he's helpless against the idea of a comfortable bed and hours of sleep. Once they step outside, the angel takes flight and they're back at their hotel room. Dean thanks the stars the angels managed to fix Metatron's screw up.
The room is like any other they've stayed at; lumpy mattresses, dim lighting, and a broken AC. The carpet is shag and an ugly color Dean suspects hides puke, the bathroom surprisingly nice considering the rest of the room, and it has both a shower and a nice deep tub. Had Dean not been too tipsy to reach the damn bathroom, he would've soaked in the tub. Even he likes a good long soak, though he'd never admit that to Sam in a million years.
He's about to head for the bed when something hits him. It's like a bolt of lightening, a fast strike that sends warmth throughout his body. His breathing picks up, his blood rushes south, and his pupils blow wide. One hand grips Castiel's shoulder tightly, almost needy, and Dean turns to look at him. Though those blue eyes are closed tight, he knows the other is feeling exactly what he is... completely unbridled lust. It's not the lack of sex he felt earlier, it's not the lust for a woman he's usually plagued by, this is different. This is all for Cas... and Dean's heart is racing more for fear than eagerness.
He's not sure what he's doing, he never gave his body an order to move, but suddenly he's pulling the angel toward him. That's about the time his mind goes blank. Electricity buzzes between them as Castiel grips the back of Dean's neck. He pulls the green-eyed hunter into him, smashing their lips together almost demanding. Dean gasps at the force of it, his knees going weak as Cas slips his tongue between those full lips. Long fingers card through Dean's locks, gripping tight as they pull at the strands.
There's no talking, only gasping and moaning as they stumble back toward the beds. Dean tugs at Castiel's clothing, the angel having taken to the assorted clothes he wore as a human. Today it's a pair of tight jeans and a tee shirt, a long brown jacket over that... which is tossed to the floor in seconds. Shirts are next, the two barely managing to break apart to shed them. Dean's fingers drop to Castiel's jeans, popping the button open and unzipping them with a lick of his lips. He drops to his knees as he pulls down those jeans and boxers, licking along the erect member there. Castiel gasps and lets out a soft moan, his hands gripping the hunter's hair roughly.
The green-eyed man alternates the pressure with which he sucks, running his tongue along the hardened length and scraping it with his teeth. He doesn't get to enjoy the taste of the angel long, however, as he's yanked off that straining erection and pulled to his feet. Castiel pins him to the closest wall, undoing his jeans roughly before yanking them down. Dean moans loudly at the treatment, his mind providing only that his female partners could never handle him in such a way.
When those pants are kicked to the floor, the attack on the taller male is reignited. Teeth clack together as kisses get passionate, Castiel grabbing Dean's thighs and hoisting him up. The hunter wraps his legs around his angel's waist, groaning when their members rub along one another. Dean's head drops to Castiel's shoulder, his lips unconsciously ghosting over tan skin. He latches on and sucks, nibbling a small mark onto Cas. The angel growls in return, grinding against his partner to draw out more tempting sounds.
“Ah! Cas,” Dean moans out. “Mm... want you so bad... fill me up real good, won't you... Ah! F-fuck me...”
Cas moves away from the wall, holding Dean up with strength his stature probably shouldn't exhibit. Instead of dumping his partner onto the bed, they only make it as far as the middle of the shag carpet. The carpet is soft against their naked bodies, the two grinding eagerly as Cas begins exploring the hunter's figure. He kisses down the other's torso, the muscles bunch beneath his lips, and runs his nails lightly down the hunter's ribs. It's driving Dean crazy, all the attention he usually forgoes in his hook ups. He arches into Castiel's touch, his legs spreading in invite slightly. That's all the angel needs, flipping the hunter over onto his hands and knees.
There is no lube within reach and they're too far gone to care at this point, their minds filled with only one goal... release. It doesn't matter how it happens, how much pain is gone through, only that it does. The angel uses spit to stretch Dean, though only just enough, and then sinks himself in dry. The heat is deliriously perfect, the angel moaning in pleasure. The hunter is cringing, his breath caught in his lungs as he bites his bottom lip. Cas doesn't wait for a go ahead, or for the other to adjust, he simply pulls almost all the way out and slams back in. That one thrust nails Dean's prostate, tearing a scream of ecstasy out of the hunter he never thought himself capable of.
They rock into each other, their movements frantic and fighting to keep up with one another. Dean can feel friction burns from the carpet tearing up his knees and hands, but it's inconsequential at the moment. All that matters right now is the erection he's riding, the bursts of pleasure that erupt each time his prostate is hit. The hurried rhythm has him broken down and crying out like a wanton whore, something he'll likely deny when his mind clears up. Right now, however, it's all he wants. Cas nailing him to the shag carpet as it burns into his skin, that delicious heat building up in the pit of his stomach, and his body fiery with the building pleasure. Cas slides along him so much easier now, the sweat upon their skin acting as a lubricant, and Dean can't hold himself up anymore. His head is now pillowed in his arms, lying on the floor with his ass in the air, and Cas uses the new position to his advantage. He's aligned their bodies, driving deeper into his partner, and suddenly a darkness spreads over them. Dean's pleasure fogged eyes glance up, unconsciously searching it out, and stares in complete fascination at the sight of enormous black wings curling around them.
They're like the night sky, so many shades of black and violet and a deep blue with small specs of shining light. He could swear the constellations are depicted within the feathers. When he finally hits his peak, spilling his cum over the carpet and arching his back with a cry of Castiel's name, all he sees is the galaxy above them. Cas growls and thrusts in deep, his wings closing in more tightly around them, and spills himself into Dean. At that moment, the hunter is completely lax. His mind is swimming in the safety of the night sky and the embrace of the angel that saved him. There isn't a single wall between them and he grips their bond so tightly Cas is drowning in their combined ecstasy... That was his mistake.
The two collapse to the floor, the only thing keeping them warm being the body next to them. Cas turns to lie on his back, feeling exhausted for the first time since he became an angel again. He's out of breath and covered in sweat, his eyes staring up at the ceiling. He should be feeling anything but pleased with himself at what happened, yet that part of his mind is buried for the moment. Dean hums to himself and turns to curl against the angel, it was too much for him and he's already passed out. He lies his head on Castiel's chest with a content sigh, the angel automatically wrapping him in his arms. The electricity that's been snapping between them since the first lightening strike is slowly fading, the angel unable to stay awake until it's gone completely.
The morning greets Dean with a sunbeam through the broken shade. He groans and cuddles closer to the warmth beside him, wondering vaguely why he hurts so much and why the rest of him is cold. Before he can complain about it, something warm is drawn around him and the light is blocked out. He's almost happy about it, yet something just doesn't seem right. The hunter opens an emerald eye and gasps at the sight of the night sky.
“No, wait... I'm inside,” he murmurs.
He reaches out carefully and draws his fingers through silky soft feathers. There's a soft moan from beneath him and Dean quickly moves away, the giant wings pressing tight against his bare back. Cas is sleeping there, both naked as the day they were born... well... the day Dean was born. The hunter sucks in a sharp breath and tries to scramble away between the wings. A pain shoots up his spine, his head spinning far too fast in his panicked state of mind and the wings quickly part. Dean turns and pukes all over the carpet, missing the fluffy wings and the angel they belong to.
“Dean, are you okay?” Cas wonders sleepily.
“No, dude! I'm not okay!” he shouts. “I had sex with a guy! A guy that happens to be my best friend! My best friend that happens to be an angel! I fucking had sex with an angel! That has to be a sin...”
“It's not. You're not the first human to lay with an angel and I'm sure you won't be the last,” Cas waves off. “But the fact you were with an angel isn't what's bothering you, is it? You're upset my vessel is a male.”
“Cas, man, you're my best friend! I have rules about fucking my best friend,” Dean stresses. “And you're a guy! I don't bang men, I'm a ladies' man! Just the ladies! No men!”
“Will you just calm down,” Cas sighs in exasperation. “You're panicking for nothing. We didn't lay with one another because we wanted to, we did it because of a spell. There's lingering witchcraft in the air.”
“... Oh,” Dean murmurs a bit calmer. “Well... that makes more sense.”
Cas shakes his head and sits up, shaking his wings with a flurry of feathers before pulling them in. They vanish, once more invisible to the mortal eye. Dean can't help but feel a loss at that, though he can't understand why. Sure they were beautiful, but it's not like their presence will change anything... except the looks they get from passersby.
“We should clean up,” Cas sighs.
“... Why can't you just use your angel mojo?” Dean wonders. “You've done it before, right? Fixing broken things and cleaning up messes...”
“... Witchcraft is hardly our biggest problem, Dean,” the angel remarks tersely. “I used up a lot of Grace last night and I need to let it replenish before I use it needlessly. If you don't mind, I think I'll enjoy the shower. Would you like to use it first?”
Dean, taken aback by the tone, nods almost hesitantly. When he tries to stand, however, it's more difficult than he expects. Castiel has to lift him up and help him into the bathroom. It pisses the hunter off, having to rely on another to care for him, yet he allows it... for now. Something about the way Cas is closing himself off to Dean is bothering the hunter, the other rarely ever does that. Once he's set in the tub, Cas tries to exit the bathroom and he's stopped by Dean's hand on his wrist.
“What is it, Dean?” he wonders without facing him.
“Cas, talk to me. Right now. If being dirty is the only problem, then hop in the tub with me and we'll wash up together... it's not like we didn't see everything last night anyway.”
“I don't think...”
“Get in here before I pull you in,” he demands with a scowl.
The angel sighs and does as told, the hunter turning on the hot water once they're settled. The tub isn't huge, but they manage to sit in it together comfortably. Both are facing one another, the water running down Castiel's back as it fills the tub. They're quiet, far too quiet for Dean's liking, and neither says anything until the tub is half filled.
Steam rises from the liquid, the heat tingling along their skin, and Dean can nearly feel his muscles unraveling pleasantly. The pain in his spine is dulled for now. He grabs a washrag and the soap, lathering it up and scrubbing his skin clean. Cas doesn't move, yet his eyes linger on the flesh Dean passes over. It sends a shiver along the hunter's back, but not one of disgust. It confuses him. He knows he's not infatuated with his friend, he's not in love or in lust, yet the idea of having sex with the angel doesn't disgust him as it should.
“Here,” Dean murmurs as he passes the washrag. “Now, tell me what the hell's going on.”
“... You trust me far too much for your own good, Dean Winchester,” Castiel mumbles. “That trust transcends mere friends. When you released all but the profound bond we share, you created a mating link between the two of us. In human terms... we're married.”
Dean's green eyes widen, his jaw dropping in shock, and his back presses against the porcelain tub. He can feel bile rising again, the mere mention of commitment assaulting him worse than any target has. Cas watches as the other starts to hyperventilate, sighing as Dean's vision begins to blacken. Then he reaches out to keep him from submerging after he passes out.