Pairings or Characters: Dean/Cas
Word Count: 517
Summary: Dean learns you can do more with an angel's wings than just look at them.
Author Notes: Based on this fanart by friedariena.
"But I can't even see them, dude," Dean points out, scratching at his neck awkwardly. He's all for trying new things, but this sounds a little ridiculous. Cas shakes his head and grabs Dean's hand, holding it out between them.
"Yes, but you can feel them."
And just like that, Dean feels a sudden weight in his palm.
"Is that-- Am I-- Holy fucking shit," Dean hisses, because he's holding Cas' wing in his hand, and it feels like snow--but not so cold that it hurts his bare hands--and what he imagines clouds would be like if they were solid enough to touch. The wing pulls out of his fingers, dragging against the skin of his arm, and he shivers, watching Cas turn over and lay out on the bed, his back facing up.
"Please, Dean, I want this," Cas mumbles into the pillow, and Dean can see his ears burning bright red. Dean crawls forward, straddling Cas' back and reaching out. He feels for Cas' wings and finds them, letting out a gasp when they flap before folding together, invisible feathers ghosting over his legs. Using his knees, he moves forward a bit more, stopping when he's sitting between Cas' shoulder blades, grabbing fistfuls of grace and pushing them together around his cock, moaning the instant they touch.
"Cas, holy crap, this is amazing," Dean breathes, practically ready to come and he hasn't even moved yet.
"Dean, I want you to move," Cas hisses, a shiver rocking his whole body when Dean's fingers squeeze his wings.
"Yeah, okay," Dean nods, moving his hips forward.
He's immediately hit with heat, the grace bleeding into him and making his head swim and tightness coil in the pit of his belly already. He drops his head forward and pants loudly with every motion of his waist, cock sliding in and out of Cas' feathers, toes curling and digging into the sheets by Cas' thighs. Beneath him, Cas is letting out equally loud moans, but they're muffled in the pillow he has his face pressed into. Dean peeks open an eye and sees Cas' hands gripping the sheets tight, bunches of them fisted between his fingers.
Fucking an angel's grace is a lot like Heaven giving you a blowjob, Dean thinks, still thrusting his hips into the feathers held in his hands, but he wants more, so he lets go and slides down Cas' body. Cas makes a noise and Dean feels the wings wrap around him, trying to pull him back.
"Dean, why did you--" Cas whines, but he's cut off by the feeling of Dean sliding a lube-slicked finger into his ass, and he moans.
"Your wings are amazing, dude, but I really need to fuck you. Like, now," Dean says, working in a second finger.
"Okay, yes, okay," Cas hisses, wings spreading out against his skin and for a moment, all Dean can see is stars, white hot and burning, spelling out all of Cas' need and his love with galaxies, and Dean wonders why they don't do this wing sex thing more often.