Feathers (Destiel)

Feathers

It was a lazy day. For the first time in what seemed like eternity, the Winchesters had no cases. The brothers had checked into a motel, both being too tired to keep driving, and were currently sprawled over their respective beds. Sam was on his laptop, always searching for signs of demon activity. Dean, however, was asleep. And snoring.
Usually, Sam wouldn't complain. His brother didn't get enough sleep as it was. But this was unbearable. So, he did the only thing he could think of, and threw a pillow at Dean.

Dean flinched, having woken in surprise. "Uh, what..." After the second it took him to orient himself, he sat up, glaring at Sam. "What the Hell, man? I was asleep!"

"Believe me, Dean, I knew you were. I could hear you. I think the demons in Hell could hear you!" He smirked, as Dean got to his feet, not relaxing the severe stink-eye he was throwing at the taller brother.

"Whatever, man, I'm going out. I'm hungry. Wanna come?" Dean grabbed his jacket from the back of a white wooden chair at a tiny table in the motel room.

"No, thanks, dude, I'm good, but bring me something." Maybe, while his brother was out, Sam could sleep for a while without Snore-zilla waking him.

Dean just shrugged, and slammed the door behind him.

*~*~*

He'd gone to a diner, near the motel. It was 50's themed, with black and white chequered floor and red bar stools, and neon signs on the walls. It was, overall, nice, but not Dean's usual environment. It was, he decided finally, as good a place as any to call his boyfriend.

They'd gotten together a few months before, in secret. He'd known for a while he went both ways, as it were, but only ever told Sam. And he wasn't ready to tell his brother about his relationship with the angel that had dragged him from Hell. Until now.

He spoke quietly, as if Castiel was already there. "Cas, I wanna talk to you...I miss you, babe, and--"

Dean heard him before he saw him. The displacement of air as the angel, his angel, appeared behind him, making a 'whooshing' noise.

"Hello, Dean." The angel sat beside him on the red, fake leather chairs. "I  have missed your presence, too."

Dean grinned at Castiel, losing himself in the oceans in the Angel's eyes. "I, uh...Cas, I...I want to tell Sam."

The angel tilted his head, squinting in confusion. "Tell Sam about what, Dean?"

"Us. Our relationship. I... I think Sam deserves to know."

Castiel just nodded. "If you think it wise, Dean; if you are ready."

"I am. I'm not ashamed, or scared anymore, Cas, I...uh...I really like you, and I want them to know."

Castiel smiled at him. It was rare that Cas smiled at all, but Dean had noticed that they seemed to come easier when they were together. It was cute. Dean stood, and offered his hand to the angel, who took it without hesitation. He remembered the first time they'd held hands, and how Cas had been so confused by the casual contact. Now though, it seemed to be one of his favourite things about being together.

As they walked down the dusk-lit street of the little town, Dean spoke up. "Hey, Cas?"

"Yes, Dean?" The angel turned his full attention to the hunter.

"When we met, you...you said humans aren't able to see your wings. Were you telling the truth?"

After a few moments, Castiel sighed. "Normally, no, human cannot see an Angel's wings...unless permitted. We are able to...show our wings, to certain people, but...I doubt you'd want to see mine."

"Why would you think that? Cas, your wings are a part of you, and...Hell, I love you, Cas. I really do..."

Castiel's eyes dropped, and he sighed. "...I wish I could say I love you, too, Dean, but...this is... Confusing, and I'm still trying to get used to the emotions that taking a vessel has exposed me to. But I do care about you, I know that, and I know you care about me.
Which is why you wouldn't want see my wings, Dean. They are...stained. Impure. Dirty."

"What does that mean, Cas?" His voice dropped slightly in concern, and he pulled Castiel to a stop on the sidewalk, reaching to grab his other hand as well.

"Angel wings...should be white, to symbolize the purity and dedication to Heaven. When an angel starts to rebel, and...feel things, their wings get stained with colours." His eyes moved away from Dean in shame, and his voice shook slightly. "Each colour means something different, but all are an abomination in the eyes of my brothers. I...don't want you to see how damaged I am."

Dean was stunned. "Cas, emotions don't make you damaged. They...they help you grow, and learn, and love, and be human. Its not an abomination, Cas, please...I want to see this part of you."

Castiel sighed, still not meeting his boyfriend's eyes. Dean moved his hands to the angels chin, guiding his gaze back. "Fine. I'll show you my wings, but you must promise not to think less of me."

Dean smiled. "I could never. Let's get back to the motel, yeah?"

*~*~*

Sam, as it turned out, couldn't be more supportive. He just grinned, and hugged both of them (when asked later, he would say that they'd been together since they met, but they were both so obtuse that they were the last ones to know). He had to leave, however, to get the food that Dean had forgotten to buy. Which left Castiel and Dean alone.

Dean turned to the trench-coated angel, smirking slightly. "Can you show me?"

Cas sat heavily on Dean's bed, and began to shed himself of coat, tie, and shirt, leaving him bare-chested. Normally, that's what Dean would focus on. The tanned flesh and sculpted muscles that were usually drenched in thick fabric. Not now, though. Now, he was much too focussed on the angels sea-blue eyes, transfixed on his own forest-like orbs.

Castiel stood, leaving his shirt and coat on the bed. He took a breath, and cricked his back, and suddenly there they were.

They were slightly bent at the joint, and large, filling up almost the entire width of the room. Dean could clearly see the layers of feathers making up the impressive span, long primaries at the tips and slowly becoming shorter and more ruffled as they encroached on Cas' shoulder blades. And the colours. The inner parts of the wings, closer to Castiel's body, were stained dozens of shades of green. From olive to lime, moss to turquoise. As the feathers extended and moved out, the green melded into a deep blue, speckled with teal, and then scarlet, with a small bit of purple in between. Some firey orange fluff sat amongst the base of the red. The spines of the feathers were black, and the tips of the furthest, longest ones were the purest white. Some of the closer feathers were also spotted with white, but the colours were so vibrant Dean almost didn't notice.

"C...Cas, they're..you're..."

The magnificent appendages drooped visibly, scraping the floor. "Disgusting, aren't they?"

"Amazing, more like. Castiel, they...they're beautiful."

The angel looked up at his human, dumbstruck. "Y-you like them?"

Dean stepped closer, about to reach up, but he paused. "C-can I...?"

Castiel nodded, muttering a warning about them being sensitive, and to be gentle. Dean grinned like a child at Christmas, and ran his fingers through the wonderfully soft feathers. Cas shivered slightly, but grinned at Dean when he hesitated. "I'm fine."

"Cas...I love you."

And confusing, colourful, human feelings be damned, because Castiel suddenly knew what he was feeling. "I love you too, Dean."