Unexpected Destinies Chapter 69
Title: Unexpected Destinies
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, wing!fic
Word Count: 3,868
Summary: Michael returns to Deirdre, leaving Dean to his own meatsuit and Castiel.
PAST
It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get Michael to stop for food somewhere on the way back and so they arrived in the motel room with a bag of Greek takeout that was actually Greek and not that imitation crap they served all across the continental US. Dean noticed Raphael's startled glance at the bag as Michael set it aside for later and he would have rolled his eyes if he could have. Like Castiel in the past, the archangel probably had never even given a thought to the fact that his vessel might get hungry after a while. Though, he mused uncomfortably, in Donnie Finnerman's case it probably didn't matter.
The way his lover stepped closer and gave him a quick once over warmed Dean and he wished he could smile at Castiel and reassure him in person instead of leaving it to Michael.
"Did everything go well?" Castiel inquired.
"Yes and we have collected all of our ingredients," Michael stated, stepping towards the table.
On it already lay a variety of objects that hadn't been there when they'd left. Dean looked at them in amazement as Michael added their own acquisitions to the pile, his attention quickly grabbed by a strange looking fruit.
"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked.
He could vaguely recall Sam once telling him that the apple in the Adam and Eve fiasco probably hadn't really been an apple at all but rather something like a pomegranate, whatever the hell that was.
"Yes," Michael confirmed. "Had you wanted to see the Garden?"
"I thought humans weren't allowed back in there."
"No, but technically it would not have been a violation of that rule if I had been the one to collect the fruit while in you."
Dean laughed, quite liking the shrewdness of the reply. Clearly there was much more hope for Michael yet if the archangel was willing to not only contemplate but offer something like that which skirted the rules of Heaven.
"Do not forget that Father created the Garden of Eden for your kind, Little One. I do not think that He would be displeased if you were to enter it, being so much like what He had originally hoped humanity would be."
The sentiment made Dean scowl but he kept silent, knowing that it was pointless to argue this point with either this particular archangel or his lover. In fact, he found that he almost wanted to have a little alone time to chat with Raphael, just to check that at least one archangel other than Lucifer still thought that he was a very flawed example of human kind. It was a good thing that he didn't have a big head, no matter what Sam might say to the contrary, or all of this praise would go straight up into it.
"Wait, wasn't there one more item on the list other than the flower?" Dean suddenly asked, counting the objects.
"Yes, the feather from an angel touched by God," Michael replied. "But since our feathers vanish quickly unless we will them to remain, it is best to not pluck it from Castiel's wing until we require it."
"Wait, why Cas? Aren't you and Raphael also touched by God? What with being archangels and all?"
"We have been, but that was a long time ago now. As the Rite of Contressa was clearly intended for use now instead of at any other time in Creation, I believe it best to use Castiel's feather as he was touched by Father far more recently then myself or any other of my brothers and sisters."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense."
"Besides, with your bond with him, his feather should settle effortlessly with the blessing young Matthieu gave the two of us, creating a trinity within the libation, thereby strengthening it considerably."
"You guys and your trinities," Dean muttered before he frowned. "Speaking of the blessing, what's going to happen to that? Can you just store it while we wait for the full moon?"
"Yes, I shall keep it within my Grace until the necessary time. Now, are you ready for the transference?"
"Yes," Dean flushed at how quickly he'd spoken and how that was likely to sound to the archangel. "Not that it's been bad being your vessel or anything-"
"Hush, Little One, I am not offended. You have taught me much in so short a span of time and I have come to understand what it means for you to allow me in and I thank you for it."
"Yeah, well, you've taught me quite a bit yourself, so I think we're even there."
"As you will."
Michael didn't need to say anything aloud to let the other two archangels know what he was about to do, merely approaching Deirdre's inert body was enough. Dean's heart ached at the flare of emotions that crossed his lover's face and he already knew what the first thing was that he'd do as soon as he was in control of his own meatsuit.
"Michael?" Raphael inquired, stepping forwards.
"I promised Dean I would leave him while we waited for the blossom," Michael explained and Dean realized with a start that the other archangel hadn't been present for that part.
Then Michael had them climbing onto the bed to lay down next to Deirdre and Dean shuddered at the vacant brown eyes staring dully past him into space. It was horrible to see his aunt reduced to this even if he'd been glad before that she was no longer in there when Michael was within her. He wondered briefly what exactly had happened to her and made a mental note to investigate it and ensure that she got a proper hunter's burial when this whole mess was over. If they won that is.
"What's this going to be like?" Dean asked as the archangel reached up to touch Deirdre's face.
"I do not know," Michael responded.
At least it was an honest answer and Dean braced himself as best he could for the unknown. At first it was like any of the other times that the archangel had used his Grace as it shifted and moved alongside him, but then things changed. He was abruptly torn from his connection with his meatsuit and he cried out in surprise. He felt rather then heard the apology as a bright pulse of the Grace just before he could start to feel Michael withdrawing. The Grace was no longer fully enveloping him, but rather slowly slipping away and he had to resist the impulse to reach out and grab hold of it and keep it with him. It was the same dread that he'd felt earlier at the thought of losing his new friend even though he knew that this was what he wanted and what he needed in order to be with his lover again.
The clashing desires within Dean combined with the sensations of Michael departing to create a maelstrom of emotions within him that was nearly overwhelming. Then something seemed to snap back into place within him like an elastic band that had been stretched and was now released and not only did his feel his body once more, but he could feel it responding to his inadvertent commands, gasping for breath.
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, clearly worried.
The moment Dean felt that he sufficient control over his own meatsuit not to make a fool of himself, he reached up to grab hold of Castiel's shirt and pulled his angel down into a hungry, heated kiss. It took his lover a second or two to respond, clearly startled at the sudden action, but when Castiel did it was fierce and he found himself once more enfolded by an archangel.
It was only the need for air that had Dean pulling back and burying his face against his angel's neck as he wanted to stay flush up against his lover for a very long time.
"Dean."
It wasn't until Castiel said his name that he realized he still had his eyes closed, just savoring the ability to move his own body, the tingling of his lips, the taste of his angel in his mouth and the smell of him. Dean opened them to look at his lover but then jerked back in surprise at what he saw before he leapt to his feet.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, voice filled with worry.
"What is wrong?" Michael asked, suddenly at his side. "Are you hurt?"
Dean turned wide eyes from his lover to his archangel and found that, yeah, he was seeing it there too. A quick glance to where Raphael stood confirmed that this wasn't isolated to just the angels he'd been close to, intimate with really though thinking that of Michael nearly made his squirm. Yet what else was he to call what they were now that he'd had the archangel inside of him?
"What have you done to him?" Castiel demanded forcefully, spinning his older brother around to face him. "He trusted you! If you have hurt him, I swear that I'll-"
"Cas, no, wait, stop," Dean interrupted hastily. "He didn't hurt me, I'm fine."
A muscle twitched in his lover's jaw and it was with an effort that he left go of Michael. For his part, Dean was amazed that the other angel hadn't so much as lifted a finger towards Castiel. Yeah, it wasn't like either of them could easily cause the other serious harm, but still, he hadn't expected the older archangel to react so docilely either. Then he remember what Michael had told him earlier, about not wanting to hurt his brother.
"What is it then if you're fine?" Castiel questioned, suddenly back in his personal space again, hands touching him as if to check that he really was okay.
Dean couldn't begrudge his lover his concern even though he knew he was probably being subjected to a Grace probe right about now in addition to the physical inspection. "Your wings."
"What about my wings?"
"I can still see them."
Castiel froze in his ministrations and so did the other two archangels and the room was suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop and it was also completely fraught with tension.
"What did you say?" Raphael finally demanded.
"I can still see your wings, all of them," Dean replied and the silence stretched once more. "I take it that's not normal, then?"
"No, Dean, it is not," Michael confirmed. "As far as I know, this has never happened to a vessel before."
"Would you know if it had?"
"Excuse me?"
"Would you really know if it had happened to another vessel? I mean have you ever hung around long enough to find out or have you normally just flitted away, back to Heaven?"
The quick glance Michael and Raphael exchanged answered his question. Yeah, that's what Dean had thought. Though he'd grown to quite like the oldest archangel, he really had been a colossal dick before.
"No, we would have known," Raphael declared confidently.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because Michael would have felt the panic from his vessel if they had suddenly been able to view other angels' wings. The mere fact that it was connected to our kind would have been enough to activate the link between them."
"Oh, okay."
Well, so much for that theory. Which meant, of course, that this was something specific and unique to him again, wonderful. Dean averted his eyes from the others as he knew it was the only possible explanation given their reactions and he really didn't want to deal with that just now. The past few hours- days? he honestly had no clue how long Michael had been in him as they'd jumped so many time zones- had been more then stressful enough as it was and he was only just getting used to being alone in his meatsuit again (and desperately squashing the pang of loneliness that went with it) to have any desire whatsoever to think about it.
Luckily the archangels seemed to understand this as none of them mentioned anything and his lover quietly ushered him towards a chair with a small smile when his stomach broke the silence by rumbling loudly. Christ but he was suddenly hungry! Dean wasn't sure where it suddenly came from as he'd been fine the moment before, but man could he suddenly empathize with what Jimmy had been feeling when the douchebags had forcefully yanked Castiel out of him all of those years ago. He dug into the food with gusto as the three archangels began discussing their strategy for the next few days and how best to perform the Rite.
Dean let most of it wash over him, concentrating instead on his food and the warm, solid presence of his lover standing so close to him that there was no space between them. He took it as an invite to lean against him and to bask in the attention he was getting as Castiel's hands brushed through his hair and basically petted him, as if seeking reassurance of his own. By the time the food was all gone, he was no longer hungry but he didn't feel particularly full either, rather more like one felt between meals. Normal.
He might have dozed a little, contented, but Dean woke up the moment that Michael and Raphael left. He took a moment to catch his bearings, but then he was on his feet, kissing his angel for all that he was worth. This time Castiel responded instantly, one hand cradling the back of his skull while the other ran down his back to pull them as close together as was possible. Somehow they made it over to the bed without any accidents despite not releasing each other for a second and his lover mojoed away their clothing even as they tumbled onto the bed. He had a brief thought for how much he loved that particular angelic skill, but it was quickly lost at the resulting skin to skin contact with his angel.
Dean felt it the moment his lover started to shift them but instead of allowing himself to be rolled onto his back, he resisted. He knew it risked making Castiel think that he hadn't been completely honest with him earlier (today? yesterday?) when he'd said he hadn't minded the angel's sudden aggressive and dominant behavior, but he could deal with that later. For now, he needed to be in control. Yeah, he'd said yes to Michael and the archangel hadn't done anything to abuse his trust, but he'd still been essentially helpless and totally out of control. He just needed to be the one in charge right now, to decide what he did to and with his meatsuit.
The irony that all of that was dependent on Castiel going along with him wasn't lost on Dean, but that was okay as this was his angel in a way Michael never could be even if he could see them becoming very close in their own way. As expected, his lover stopped the moment he resisted being rolled.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, breaking the kiss to look at him.
Not quite able to verbalize what he was feeling, Dean simply leaned forward to resume kissing before he began to push his angel the other way. His lover allowed the movement and he was once again aware of the awe he'd felt at the start of their relationship that such a powerful being wanted to be with him and allowed him to take control. When he pulled back from the kiss, it was to find himself cocooned within Castiel's wings that had come up to wrap around him just shy of touching. It made his breath catch in his throat and caused a powerful swell of safety to rise within him. Lying here, sheltered within both the arms and wings of his angel, it was hard to think how he could come to any harm.
"Have you always done that?" Dean asked.
"Surround you or place them near you? Yes. But I have never done this before."
As Castiel spoke, the wings came in closer and brushed Dean's back, making him jerk and moan at the soft caress. A part of him thought that he should be freaked out by the clearly nonhuman touch, but the rest of him loved it. The feathers were warm and so soft, a wonderful contrast to the hard muscles of his lover's body beneath him. Besides, he'd wanted to see these wings for so long that to finally be able to do not only that, but to be touched by them was pure bliss. He ground down against his angel and swallowed the resulting moan. As they moved together, he reached out and buried his hands in the feathers of the set of wings closest to him.
The way his lover writhed beneath him in response made Dean smile and he tightened his grip experimentally, tugging lightly. Castiel's reaction was even fiercer and he pulled back to look at his angel as he did it again. Slowly he became aware of a rising odor and he frowned. It was what he'd long since come to recognize as his lover's scent, but it was far stronger then normal. Then his left hand touched something wet and he pulled it back, both startled and worried that he'd hurt his lover.
"Cas?" Dean questioned, examining the faintly colored, slippery substance coating his fingers.
His initial panic was already gone as it clearly wasn't blood, but Dean still didn't have the first to clue as to what exactly it was and whether or not it was normal. He had practically zero experience with wings after all.
"It is alright," Castiel soothed, though his voice was strained.
Dean frowned at his lover, noting how dilated his eyes were and how they seemed to be locked on his fingers. He moved his hand experimentally and yeah, Castiel was following it with his eyes. "What is it?"
"Oil."
"For your feathers?"
"Yes, it protects them and..."
"And what?"
"And it can be used as a scent marker during matings."
His own eyes instantly darted back to the oil on his fingers as Dean thought about that. "So basically this is going to make me smell like you? Tell other angels that we're together?"
"Yes, exactly."
The idea was far hotter then it had any right to be, but Dean had long since resigned himself to enjoying having Castiel's marks on him. "You been marking me all along?"
"No!"
The abrupt and fierce response brought Dean up short, startled. From the defensiveness in his lover's voice, he realized that Castiel thought he'd have been offended by the idea, but really he wasn't. It was just another type of marking like the handprint scar or the hickeys that his angel so loved to suck into his skin, though he appreciated his angel's reasoning and kissed him for the consideration.
"I guess Michael's going to have to get used to me smelling like you then," Dean stated.
Castiel growled in response, hands tightening on his body. "And me to you carrying his scent."
Dean blinked. "What?"
"You were his vessel, his receptacle, and thus possessed his wings and all that went with them."
"Oh. Can't you just clean it off me?"
"No, it will linger for a while on your skin until it fades on its own."
Dean thought about that for a moment. "Then we'll just have to ensure that your, uh, scent is the strongest then, won't we?"
It was clearly the right answer to give as his lover ran his wings over his back and Dean moaned, reaching down to take hold of both of them before he began to move once more. As they spiraled higher, Castiel guided his free hand behind his back to the base of his wings. There, he found several hard nubs that eagerly squirted more oil onto his fingers when touched. They also seemed to be extremely sensitive as his angel howled and came, writhing against him. He nearly followed him over the edge, but managed to hold back, not quite ready to come just yet. He wanted to do so buried deep within Castiel.
The idea that came to Dean all of a sudden was so dirty and wrong that he already knew that to resist it was useless. Something must have shown on his face as his lover looked at him as intently as he could given his otherwise blissful expression.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breath hitching slightly.
The fact that his angel had correctly identified his intent (even if he couldn't have figured out what exactly he meant to do) still managed to touch Dean after all of this time. Somehow, despite having been together for months now, the novelty of being in a long-term relationship where his lover knew him so damn well still hadn't worn off. At the same time, just thinking about how long they'd been together still caused a wild panic deep within him, the result of two horribly failed previous attempts at exactly this and all of the resulting pain they had brought with them washing over him once more.
"Love you," Dean whispered against his lover's lips as he reached down with his oil slicked hand to circle a finger around Castiel's hole.
His angel's eyes widened in realization just as Dean slipped a finger inside. Then he focused on leaving his own, temporary marks on Castiel's throat as he prepared his lover. By the time he'd stretched him, his angel was hardening against him once more and he smiled into a kiss as he reached up and around to the oil nubs once more. The brief, careful prodding was enough to harden Castiel the rest of the way and he nearly came at the sensation of having his lover almost losing it beneath him. He quickly slicked up his cock with the oil he'd just gotten and wasted no time pressing into Castiel. It was torturous to wait once he'd bottomed out when all he wanted to do was pull out so he could thrust back into the welcoming heat and tightness, but he forced himself to wait until his lover was ready for him to do so.
Once Castiel squeezed down on him, Dean began moving right away, claiming his lover roughly. The knowledge that there was not even artificial lube between them now, but rather his angel's own oil slicking the way was driving him mad. He reached down with his oil slick hand to grasp Castiel's cock and he began pumping it in time with his thrusts. Their rhythm grew increasingly frantic and he went crashing over the edge when the long feathers of one pair of his lover's wings came up to caress his chest and nipples while another pair tightened around his back.
Dean remained on top of his lover for long enough to ensure that Castiel came as well before he slumped against his angel's side, cradled there by a cocoon of black feathers as he succumbed to sleep.
A.N.: Thanks for your continued patience during this hellish two week stretch at work. I've really missed working on this fic as you could probably tell by the length of this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 70
Rating: NC-17
Spoilers: up to and including Exile on Main St., AU from the end of season 5
Warnings: AU, slash, wing!fic
Word Count: 3,868
Summary: Michael returns to Deirdre, leaving Dean to his own meatsuit and Castiel.
PAST
It had taken surprisingly little convincing to get Michael to stop for food somewhere on the way back and so they arrived in the motel room with a bag of Greek takeout that was actually Greek and not that imitation crap they served all across the continental US. Dean noticed Raphael's startled glance at the bag as Michael set it aside for later and he would have rolled his eyes if he could have. Like Castiel in the past, the archangel probably had never even given a thought to the fact that his vessel might get hungry after a while. Though, he mused uncomfortably, in Donnie Finnerman's case it probably didn't matter.
The way his lover stepped closer and gave him a quick once over warmed Dean and he wished he could smile at Castiel and reassure him in person instead of leaving it to Michael.
"Did everything go well?" Castiel inquired.
"Yes and we have collected all of our ingredients," Michael stated, stepping towards the table.
On it already lay a variety of objects that hadn't been there when they'd left. Dean looked at them in amazement as Michael added their own acquisitions to the pile, his attention quickly grabbed by a strange looking fruit.
"Is that what I think it is?" Dean asked.
He could vaguely recall Sam once telling him that the apple in the Adam and Eve fiasco probably hadn't really been an apple at all but rather something like a pomegranate, whatever the hell that was.
"Yes," Michael confirmed. "Had you wanted to see the Garden?"
"I thought humans weren't allowed back in there."
"No, but technically it would not have been a violation of that rule if I had been the one to collect the fruit while in you."
Dean laughed, quite liking the shrewdness of the reply. Clearly there was much more hope for Michael yet if the archangel was willing to not only contemplate but offer something like that which skirted the rules of Heaven.
"Do not forget that Father created the Garden of Eden for your kind, Little One. I do not think that He would be displeased if you were to enter it, being so much like what He had originally hoped humanity would be."
The sentiment made Dean scowl but he kept silent, knowing that it was pointless to argue this point with either this particular archangel or his lover. In fact, he found that he almost wanted to have a little alone time to chat with Raphael, just to check that at least one archangel other than Lucifer still thought that he was a very flawed example of human kind. It was a good thing that he didn't have a big head, no matter what Sam might say to the contrary, or all of this praise would go straight up into it.
"Wait, wasn't there one more item on the list other than the flower?" Dean suddenly asked, counting the objects.
"Yes, the feather from an angel touched by God," Michael replied. "But since our feathers vanish quickly unless we will them to remain, it is best to not pluck it from Castiel's wing until we require it."
"Wait, why Cas? Aren't you and Raphael also touched by God? What with being archangels and all?"
"We have been, but that was a long time ago now. As the Rite of Contressa was clearly intended for use now instead of at any other time in Creation, I believe it best to use Castiel's feather as he was touched by Father far more recently then myself or any other of my brothers and sisters."
"Oh, yeah, that makes sense."
"Besides, with your bond with him, his feather should settle effortlessly with the blessing young Matthieu gave the two of us, creating a trinity within the libation, thereby strengthening it considerably."
"You guys and your trinities," Dean muttered before he frowned. "Speaking of the blessing, what's going to happen to that? Can you just store it while we wait for the full moon?"
"Yes, I shall keep it within my Grace until the necessary time. Now, are you ready for the transference?"
"Yes," Dean flushed at how quickly he'd spoken and how that was likely to sound to the archangel. "Not that it's been bad being your vessel or anything-"
"Hush, Little One, I am not offended. You have taught me much in so short a span of time and I have come to understand what it means for you to allow me in and I thank you for it."
"Yeah, well, you've taught me quite a bit yourself, so I think we're even there."
"As you will."
Michael didn't need to say anything aloud to let the other two archangels know what he was about to do, merely approaching Deirdre's inert body was enough. Dean's heart ached at the flare of emotions that crossed his lover's face and he already knew what the first thing was that he'd do as soon as he was in control of his own meatsuit.
"Michael?" Raphael inquired, stepping forwards.
"I promised Dean I would leave him while we waited for the blossom," Michael explained and Dean realized with a start that the other archangel hadn't been present for that part.
Then Michael had them climbing onto the bed to lay down next to Deirdre and Dean shuddered at the vacant brown eyes staring dully past him into space. It was horrible to see his aunt reduced to this even if he'd been glad before that she was no longer in there when Michael was within her. He wondered briefly what exactly had happened to her and made a mental note to investigate it and ensure that she got a proper hunter's burial when this whole mess was over. If they won that is.
"What's this going to be like?" Dean asked as the archangel reached up to touch Deirdre's face.
"I do not know," Michael responded.
At least it was an honest answer and Dean braced himself as best he could for the unknown. At first it was like any of the other times that the archangel had used his Grace as it shifted and moved alongside him, but then things changed. He was abruptly torn from his connection with his meatsuit and he cried out in surprise. He felt rather then heard the apology as a bright pulse of the Grace just before he could start to feel Michael withdrawing. The Grace was no longer fully enveloping him, but rather slowly slipping away and he had to resist the impulse to reach out and grab hold of it and keep it with him. It was the same dread that he'd felt earlier at the thought of losing his new friend even though he knew that this was what he wanted and what he needed in order to be with his lover again.
The clashing desires within Dean combined with the sensations of Michael departing to create a maelstrom of emotions within him that was nearly overwhelming. Then something seemed to snap back into place within him like an elastic band that had been stretched and was now released and not only did his feel his body once more, but he could feel it responding to his inadvertent commands, gasping for breath.
"Dean!" Castiel cried out, clearly worried.
The moment Dean felt that he sufficient control over his own meatsuit not to make a fool of himself, he reached up to grab hold of Castiel's shirt and pulled his angel down into a hungry, heated kiss. It took his lover a second or two to respond, clearly startled at the sudden action, but when Castiel did it was fierce and he found himself once more enfolded by an archangel.
It was only the need for air that had Dean pulling back and burying his face against his angel's neck as he wanted to stay flush up against his lover for a very long time.
"Dean."
It wasn't until Castiel said his name that he realized he still had his eyes closed, just savoring the ability to move his own body, the tingling of his lips, the taste of his angel in his mouth and the smell of him. Dean opened them to look at his lover but then jerked back in surprise at what he saw before he leapt to his feet.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, voice filled with worry.
"What is wrong?" Michael asked, suddenly at his side. "Are you hurt?"
Dean turned wide eyes from his lover to his archangel and found that, yeah, he was seeing it there too. A quick glance to where Raphael stood confirmed that this wasn't isolated to just the angels he'd been close to, intimate with really though thinking that of Michael nearly made his squirm. Yet what else was he to call what they were now that he'd had the archangel inside of him?
"What have you done to him?" Castiel demanded forcefully, spinning his older brother around to face him. "He trusted you! If you have hurt him, I swear that I'll-"
"Cas, no, wait, stop," Dean interrupted hastily. "He didn't hurt me, I'm fine."
A muscle twitched in his lover's jaw and it was with an effort that he left go of Michael. For his part, Dean was amazed that the other angel hadn't so much as lifted a finger towards Castiel. Yeah, it wasn't like either of them could easily cause the other serious harm, but still, he hadn't expected the older archangel to react so docilely either. Then he remember what Michael had told him earlier, about not wanting to hurt his brother.
"What is it then if you're fine?" Castiel questioned, suddenly back in his personal space again, hands touching him as if to check that he really was okay.
Dean couldn't begrudge his lover his concern even though he knew he was probably being subjected to a Grace probe right about now in addition to the physical inspection. "Your wings."
"What about my wings?"
"I can still see them."
Castiel froze in his ministrations and so did the other two archangels and the room was suddenly so quiet you could hear a pin drop and it was also completely fraught with tension.
"What did you say?" Raphael finally demanded.
"I can still see your wings, all of them," Dean replied and the silence stretched once more. "I take it that's not normal, then?"
"No, Dean, it is not," Michael confirmed. "As far as I know, this has never happened to a vessel before."
"Would you know if it had?"
"Excuse me?"
"Would you really know if it had happened to another vessel? I mean have you ever hung around long enough to find out or have you normally just flitted away, back to Heaven?"
The quick glance Michael and Raphael exchanged answered his question. Yeah, that's what Dean had thought. Though he'd grown to quite like the oldest archangel, he really had been a colossal dick before.
"No, we would have known," Raphael declared confidently.
"What makes you say that?"
"Because Michael would have felt the panic from his vessel if they had suddenly been able to view other angels' wings. The mere fact that it was connected to our kind would have been enough to activate the link between them."
"Oh, okay."
Well, so much for that theory. Which meant, of course, that this was something specific and unique to him again, wonderful. Dean averted his eyes from the others as he knew it was the only possible explanation given their reactions and he really didn't want to deal with that just now. The past few hours- days? he honestly had no clue how long Michael had been in him as they'd jumped so many time zones- had been more then stressful enough as it was and he was only just getting used to being alone in his meatsuit again (and desperately squashing the pang of loneliness that went with it) to have any desire whatsoever to think about it.
Luckily the archangels seemed to understand this as none of them mentioned anything and his lover quietly ushered him towards a chair with a small smile when his stomach broke the silence by rumbling loudly. Christ but he was suddenly hungry! Dean wasn't sure where it suddenly came from as he'd been fine the moment before, but man could he suddenly empathize with what Jimmy had been feeling when the douchebags had forcefully yanked Castiel out of him all of those years ago. He dug into the food with gusto as the three archangels began discussing their strategy for the next few days and how best to perform the Rite.
Dean let most of it wash over him, concentrating instead on his food and the warm, solid presence of his lover standing so close to him that there was no space between them. He took it as an invite to lean against him and to bask in the attention he was getting as Castiel's hands brushed through his hair and basically petted him, as if seeking reassurance of his own. By the time the food was all gone, he was no longer hungry but he didn't feel particularly full either, rather more like one felt between meals. Normal.
He might have dozed a little, contented, but Dean woke up the moment that Michael and Raphael left. He took a moment to catch his bearings, but then he was on his feet, kissing his angel for all that he was worth. This time Castiel responded instantly, one hand cradling the back of his skull while the other ran down his back to pull them as close together as was possible. Somehow they made it over to the bed without any accidents despite not releasing each other for a second and his lover mojoed away their clothing even as they tumbled onto the bed. He had a brief thought for how much he loved that particular angelic skill, but it was quickly lost at the resulting skin to skin contact with his angel.
Dean felt it the moment his lover started to shift them but instead of allowing himself to be rolled onto his back, he resisted. He knew it risked making Castiel think that he hadn't been completely honest with him earlier (today? yesterday?) when he'd said he hadn't minded the angel's sudden aggressive and dominant behavior, but he could deal with that later. For now, he needed to be in control. Yeah, he'd said yes to Michael and the archangel hadn't done anything to abuse his trust, but he'd still been essentially helpless and totally out of control. He just needed to be the one in charge right now, to decide what he did to and with his meatsuit.
The irony that all of that was dependent on Castiel going along with him wasn't lost on Dean, but that was okay as this was his angel in a way Michael never could be even if he could see them becoming very close in their own way. As expected, his lover stopped the moment he resisted being rolled.
"Dean?" Castiel questioned, breaking the kiss to look at him.
Not quite able to verbalize what he was feeling, Dean simply leaned forward to resume kissing before he began to push his angel the other way. His lover allowed the movement and he was once again aware of the awe he'd felt at the start of their relationship that such a powerful being wanted to be with him and allowed him to take control. When he pulled back from the kiss, it was to find himself cocooned within Castiel's wings that had come up to wrap around him just shy of touching. It made his breath catch in his throat and caused a powerful swell of safety to rise within him. Lying here, sheltered within both the arms and wings of his angel, it was hard to think how he could come to any harm.
"Have you always done that?" Dean asked.
"Surround you or place them near you? Yes. But I have never done this before."
As Castiel spoke, the wings came in closer and brushed Dean's back, making him jerk and moan at the soft caress. A part of him thought that he should be freaked out by the clearly nonhuman touch, but the rest of him loved it. The feathers were warm and so soft, a wonderful contrast to the hard muscles of his lover's body beneath him. Besides, he'd wanted to see these wings for so long that to finally be able to do not only that, but to be touched by them was pure bliss. He ground down against his angel and swallowed the resulting moan. As they moved together, he reached out and buried his hands in the feathers of the set of wings closest to him.
The way his lover writhed beneath him in response made Dean smile and he tightened his grip experimentally, tugging lightly. Castiel's reaction was even fiercer and he pulled back to look at his angel as he did it again. Slowly he became aware of a rising odor and he frowned. It was what he'd long since come to recognize as his lover's scent, but it was far stronger then normal. Then his left hand touched something wet and he pulled it back, both startled and worried that he'd hurt his lover.
"Cas?" Dean questioned, examining the faintly colored, slippery substance coating his fingers.
His initial panic was already gone as it clearly wasn't blood, but Dean still didn't have the first to clue as to what exactly it was and whether or not it was normal. He had practically zero experience with wings after all.
"It is alright," Castiel soothed, though his voice was strained.
Dean frowned at his lover, noting how dilated his eyes were and how they seemed to be locked on his fingers. He moved his hand experimentally and yeah, Castiel was following it with his eyes. "What is it?"
"Oil."
"For your feathers?"
"Yes, it protects them and..."
"And what?"
"And it can be used as a scent marker during matings."
His own eyes instantly darted back to the oil on his fingers as Dean thought about that. "So basically this is going to make me smell like you? Tell other angels that we're together?"
"Yes, exactly."
The idea was far hotter then it had any right to be, but Dean had long since resigned himself to enjoying having Castiel's marks on him. "You been marking me all along?"
"No!"
The abrupt and fierce response brought Dean up short, startled. From the defensiveness in his lover's voice, he realized that Castiel thought he'd have been offended by the idea, but really he wasn't. It was just another type of marking like the handprint scar or the hickeys that his angel so loved to suck into his skin, though he appreciated his angel's reasoning and kissed him for the consideration.
"I guess Michael's going to have to get used to me smelling like you then," Dean stated.
Castiel growled in response, hands tightening on his body. "And me to you carrying his scent."
Dean blinked. "What?"
"You were his vessel, his receptacle, and thus possessed his wings and all that went with them."
"Oh. Can't you just clean it off me?"
"No, it will linger for a while on your skin until it fades on its own."
Dean thought about that for a moment. "Then we'll just have to ensure that your, uh, scent is the strongest then, won't we?"
It was clearly the right answer to give as his lover ran his wings over his back and Dean moaned, reaching down to take hold of both of them before he began to move once more. As they spiraled higher, Castiel guided his free hand behind his back to the base of his wings. There, he found several hard nubs that eagerly squirted more oil onto his fingers when touched. They also seemed to be extremely sensitive as his angel howled and came, writhing against him. He nearly followed him over the edge, but managed to hold back, not quite ready to come just yet. He wanted to do so buried deep within Castiel.
The idea that came to Dean all of a sudden was so dirty and wrong that he already knew that to resist it was useless. Something must have shown on his face as his lover looked at him as intently as he could given his otherwise blissful expression.
"Dean?" Castiel asked, breath hitching slightly.
The fact that his angel had correctly identified his intent (even if he couldn't have figured out what exactly he meant to do) still managed to touch Dean after all of this time. Somehow, despite having been together for months now, the novelty of being in a long-term relationship where his lover knew him so damn well still hadn't worn off. At the same time, just thinking about how long they'd been together still caused a wild panic deep within him, the result of two horribly failed previous attempts at exactly this and all of the resulting pain they had brought with them washing over him once more.
"Love you," Dean whispered against his lover's lips as he reached down with his oil slicked hand to circle a finger around Castiel's hole.
His angel's eyes widened in realization just as Dean slipped a finger inside. Then he focused on leaving his own, temporary marks on Castiel's throat as he prepared his lover. By the time he'd stretched him, his angel was hardening against him once more and he smiled into a kiss as he reached up and around to the oil nubs once more. The brief, careful prodding was enough to harden Castiel the rest of the way and he nearly came at the sensation of having his lover almost losing it beneath him. He quickly slicked up his cock with the oil he'd just gotten and wasted no time pressing into Castiel. It was torturous to wait once he'd bottomed out when all he wanted to do was pull out so he could thrust back into the welcoming heat and tightness, but he forced himself to wait until his lover was ready for him to do so.
Once Castiel squeezed down on him, Dean began moving right away, claiming his lover roughly. The knowledge that there was not even artificial lube between them now, but rather his angel's own oil slicking the way was driving him mad. He reached down with his oil slick hand to grasp Castiel's cock and he began pumping it in time with his thrusts. Their rhythm grew increasingly frantic and he went crashing over the edge when the long feathers of one pair of his lover's wings came up to caress his chest and nipples while another pair tightened around his back.
Dean remained on top of his lover for long enough to ensure that Castiel came as well before he slumped against his angel's side, cradled there by a cocoon of black feathers as he succumbed to sleep.
A.N.: Thanks for your continued patience during this hellish two week stretch at work. I've really missed working on this fic as you could probably tell by the length of this chapter, I hope you enjoyed it!
Chapter 70