SUPERNATURAL SMUT

The Faltering Flutter of Broken Wings

By: Lyoung_50

Summary:

There have only been three times that Dean has seen Castiel's wings. They've all been monumental, and they've all been life-altering.

Notes:

Disclaimer: Supernatural and all of its characters belong to Erik Kripke and the CW Network.

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2013

The first time that Dean saw Cas' wings, it was completely by surprise. He had been pouring over ninety-nine cent hamburgers in some shitty hotel in Illinois while Sam was at the library researching when the angel had appeared in their room, tumbling across the floor in a flurry of blood and dust. The wings were massive and had to curl in tightly to his back to avoid knocking against the door of the hotel room.

"Cas?" Dean had gasped breathlessly, scrambling off the bed and dropping to his knees on the horrifically patterned carpet. "Cas? Buddy? What the hell happened to you?"

"I went t-to Heaven. Naomi called me." He ground on, his head hanging low as he struggled to his hands and knees. His chest rattled with a deep, rumbling cough, blood staining his teeth. "Ambush."

"Naomi? Who the hell is that?" Dean questioned, his hand falling on Cas' shoulder.

"She's...she's been controlling all of the angels, Dean. She's the reason that I killed Samandriel. " His pained blue eyes lifted to meet Dean's, his face twisted in pain. "She wanted me to kill you, Dean. But I refused, so she tried to kill me." His wings fluttered wildly on his back, feathers and blood dropping to the carpet.

"Your wings, Cas." Dean whipsered, reaching out and freezing halfway to the massive, black wings. They were larger then Dean had ever anticipated, and midnight black, contrasting wildly to his ivory skin. Deep gashes in the tips of them were slowly oozing dark blood. "Can I?" He questioned, ducking his head to look at Cas, who nodded in response. Dean reached forward and touched the soft, downy feathers. He pushed them aside to look at the slices in Cas' skin. The tips of his wings were charred and burnt, but the burns didn't look nearly as new as the cuts.

"They'll heal." Cas' gruff voice broke his gaze from staring at the wings for the rest of his life. "They're already starting to heal. Dean." He reached out and hooked his index finger under Dean's chin, forcing him to look up. "It's okay. I promise."

"They're cut and burnt, Cas. What did she do to you?" Dean whispered, helping Cas up onto his bed and sitting a safe distance away. Cas scowled at the distance between them, and Dean felt a tattered wing wrap around his back, pulling him closer. He gasped quietly when he felt his side being pressed from shoulder to thigh against Cas'.

"The cuts are from Naomi, Dean. She used an angel blade, we struggled, she tried to cut my wings off." He stated as casually if he were talking about the weather. "The burns are from..." Cas trailed off and Dean quirked an eyebrow curiously. It took him a moment to register what Cas meant.

"These are from when you pulled me out of the pit." Dean muttered, running his fingers through the feathers carefully. "I'm so sorry, Cas." His voice was low, his breath warm as it puffed over Cas' chin. The angel was silent, his eyes wide, and his breathing stuttered as Dean leaned closer.

He brushed his nose over Cas', his hand sliding up to cup the other man's jaw and brushed his thumb over his cheekbone softly. He closed the distance between them until there was less then a millimeter between their lips.

"It's okay," Their lips brushed as he spoke, sending little electric shocks scorching through his body. "It's okay, Cas. You're safe." He wrapped his arms tightly around Cas' waist and pulled him closer. "I've got you."