Hunting Season // A Destiel Fanfic (AU)

Showertime (+A/N prt2)

TW: Gay Sex

Friday // 10:00 am

Castiel jumped as he heard the water spay out with a harsh whish, before sputtering back to trickling water. Looking back to see Dean, then his bloodied reflection just past the man's freckled shoulder. The hunter leaned towards the angel, a gentle hand coming up to rub their arm, "He's going to be okay," Dean said softly. Castiel took a narrowly quivering hand to place on top of Deans, nodding whether or not he believed it. Castiel had to believe it. Gabe was going to be fine...

Stepping into the running hot water, tension held within Castiels muscles started to be partially massaged away. Feathery wings spreading a tad before folding them back with a sore touch to between his shoulders. Deans rough hand adventuring through the scapular feathers a little before sliding down his spine. Sending a shiver down Castiels back.

The shower was definitely not made for two people, let alone an angel and human. Being inches away from Castiel as the water pattered gently down his back, Deans face came close enough to squeeze between wing and the side of the angels head, lips nearing the other's ear. His hands gliding down the others back and turning to trace their hip.

Meanwhile, stiff as a board from the touch, the angel still reached over for the soap and sponge on his right. Lathering up with shaky hands before squeezing the sponge enough to watch it leak some foamy bubbles. He began to scrub at his arms and chest, visibly pink through the steam emitting from the water and rose-colored foamy layer of soap.

"Could you...?" Castiel glanced behind him, jumping a tad, realizing just how close Dean really was. Their eyes close enough to see each stroke of different greens, blues, and browns around the shifting, inky pupil.

"Sure," Dean curled the corners of his lips in a subtle, closed smile. Reaching between the angels torso and arm to grab the sponge and make it back to set it upon the base of Castiels neck and guiding it down in circular motions, careful not to touch the feathers. Even though the temptation to just ruffle through the softness is high.

"Hey Dean," Castiel paused, looking down towards his feet.

"What's up?" Dean started to do the back of the others shoulders.

"What's going to happen when he finds out?" Tears threaten to sting the angels eyes.

"Who?" Dean furrowed his brows, gliding down the spine.

"Your brother," Castiel softened his voice, tightening his lips at the thought.

"We'll cross that bridge when we get there," Dean tilted his head, pausing his hand at the center lower back, "First, we need to worry about you and your brother."

The angel went silent, nodding his head. "I'm fine," he lied.

It was hard to tell Castiel what the human fears will happen. Knowing how Sam probably has already reacted. He has ways in finding out things, and it doesn't help some people can't be fully trusted to keep secrecy. Dean shook his head a little, batting away the drops of warm water sticking to his long lashes. He then continued to scrub Castiel. The white tub slowly staining pink with the bloodied, soapy water.

Rinsing off under the water, Dean shifted to stand in-front of the angel. Tips brushing against each other, whether the two thought it was embarrassing or not. It was somewhat understandable for Dean to have a bit of a hard-on, but it raised questions within Castiel when he felt the gentle tingle-shiver emanate near his groin again. Shaft perking up through his fuzzy pubic area.

Taking initiative, Dean took a half-step forward, leaning his head down to brush his hand against the angels hands, which had instinctively covered his member. Now isn't the time to do something like this, his face burning a bright red (just a shade or two brighter than Dean's). "It's okay," The man hummed softly leaning into the others ear. Castiel's eyes meeting near the other's freckled shoulder, a small dollop of water dripping from his hair down his nose. He sighed softly and moved his hands away after the gentle push from Dean, gliding them up to settle on the others wide and firm shoulders. Scars scattered across the hunters body more than he remembers, though some would say Castiel was still in worse shape.