Title: The Unnamed Feeling
Author: shadowofcastiel
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: characters are not mine - they belong to Eric Kripke - I'm merely having fun with them.
Summary: Dean treats the angel Castiel to a massage...

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"Then the unnamed feeling
It comes alive
Then the unnamed feeling
Treats me this way"



Dean Winchester stared out of the corner of his eye at Castiel, watching as the angel slumped upon Dean's bed, looking more tired than the hunter had ever seen the angel in all the short time he'd known him. His heart went out to the exhausted angel, more than it already had, and he wondered what he could do to ease Castiel's weariness.

He had the sudden urge to just give the angel a massage, but he did not even offer, simply because he thought the angel would rebuke him, would turn him away. Dean himself had long since gotten over feelings of uncomfortable emotions, the initial unnamed feeling he'd started directing towards Castiel and which he had soon suspected was possibly love.

Castiel's eyes closed and a sigh escaped his half parted lips, a sigh of utter exhaustion, before his eyes slowly opened again, the tiredness running deep in his usually bright, clear blue eyes.

"Bad day at the office, huh?" Dean asked, gruffly, trying not to think too hard of massages right then, when he knew he couldn't give Castiel one.

"Like you wouldn't believe," Castiel replied, in that familiarly gruff tone that Dean could listen to all evening, if Castiel himself would permit it.

The angel typically didn't expand on what he meant, as he usually wasn't much of a talker. Dean watched him for a while longer, before he couldn't stand it in any more.

"Someone needs a massage!" he said, crossing his fingers behind his back, hoping that he wouldn't get smitten by either Castiel himself or God for being blasphemous to an angel of the Lord.

Castiel's eyes slowly drifted slowly open, and Dean was encouraged when he saw curiosity in Castiel's dark blue eyes instead of disgust as Dean had expected. Castiel even tilted his head on one side at the hunter, as though trying to make sense of Dean's words. Either that or he was giving Dean's words some serious consideration. It was always hard to tell with the angel what exactly he was doing, or feeling at any given time, as sometimes even the angel couldn't identify what he was feeling at times.

"A massage, Dean? What is a massage?" Castiel asked, his head still tilted to the side, his tired eyes now turned large in almost child like curiosity, giving him the appearance of an adorable puppy.

Dean smiled, as the unnamed feeling inside him which was probably love threatened to consume him at that one gesture alone.

"Dean?" Castiel prodded, when Dean didn't immediately answer.

He even went as far as standing, to come forward to peer in a concerned fashion in Dean's green eyes.

"I'm going to Hell for this ... " Dean groaned, finding himself unable to tear himself away from the angel's patient gaze.

"Why are you going to Hell, Dean? I'm not going to let you go to Hell!" Castiel assured him. "All I asked is what a massage was! Why should that condemn you to Hell?"

"Ohhh, God! " Dean groaned, feeling himself react and grow hard at Castiel's closeness and to the thought of giving him a massage. "A massage is when you rub parts of someone's body, like the shoulders for instance, to help them relax."

Castiel tilted his head downwards, looking at the floor as though giving it his utmost consideration, before he looked up to meet Dean's eyes again.. Once again, Dean could not detect the slightest bit of disgust in the angel's eyes or manner.

"I would like a massage, Dean!" Castiel said, innocently and in the most trusting manner.

"Ohhh, God!" Dean said, pinching the bridge of his nose, with his eyes screwed shut, trying not to let the angel see the sudden lust in his eyes.

"What's the matter?" Castiel asked, and Dean knew without looking that the angel was looking at him with the head tilt of doom once again.

"Cas, I'm not going to be struck down by a lightning bolt in the near future, am I? Because I have the feeling I will be defiling an angel of the Lord pretty soon .... " Dean said, looking up at the angel finally, who was staring at Dean in that intense way only the angel seemed able to pull off with any success, lips half parted in an almost sensuous manner.

"No, I don't believe that will happen, Dean. After all, I have asked for this, have I not? It is not like you are forcing anything upon me," the angel pointed out.

Dean was uncertain as to what exactly to say to that - he had a good idea where this would lead, and he wasn't sure as to the validity of Castiel's statement right then.

"Cas. Cas, take off your coat," Dean said, quietly, before watching the angel remove his coat with such a look of trust on his face, Dean's heart stuttered for a moment.

The hunter pointed to the dark jacket that lay beneath the trench coat, before saying hoarsely - "And that jacket too. I can't give you a massage with all those layers in the way! You won't benefit from it."

Castiel tilted his head to one side, but said nothing, merely did as Dean had asked without question. Dean watched him with an almost hungry look in his eyes, that the angel didn't miss but didn't comment upon, merely smiled a little at the staring hunter.

"Bed ..." Dean said, before coughing to clear his suddenly too dry throat. "Sit on the edge of the bed, Cas. It'll make it easier to give you your massage."

He swallowed convulsively, as Castiel sat as he had been bid upon the edge of the bed, back turned to Dean, laying hands loosely on his thighs, already looking more relaxed than he had been just mere moments ago. Dean approached the angel almost reverently, creeping forward, frightened of maybe scaring the angel with a too sudden movement. He laid slightly trembling hands upon the vessel's shoulders, surprised at the warmth he felt through the thin fabric of the shirt. For some reason, he had expected Castiel to feel cold, but he did not. He felt pleasantly warm to the touch, like a normal human should and this encouraged Dean slightly, as he kneaded and manipulated the muscles in Castiel's shoulders with strong hands.

Dean sneaked a look at Castiel's face and saw that his large blue eyes were closed to the world, his lips were parted in a small smile as Dean continued to knead the angel's shoulders, feeling the tension held within them slowly ease away. Soft moans of satisfaction fell out of the angel's mouth, as Castiel lowered his head slightly as Dean began kneading the back of his neck with skilful fingers.

Dean smiled slightly when he felt the soft brush of wings against the front of his T shirt, tickling slightly through the material. He felt the sensation of feathers tickling against his forearms and he almost stopped what he was doing. The feel of the feathers against his bare skin was enough to make his jeans feel tight against his stiffening cock.

It was as though the angel knew what was happening, because he trailed his wingtips more purposefully across the bare skin of Dean's arms. The hunter couldn't help the groan that escaped his lips and Castiel stilled Dean's hands with both of his. He turned to stare soulfully up at Dean, lips slightly puckered in a pout, his eyes seemingly staring straight into Dean's soul.

"It's alright, you know!" he said, quietly. "I meant what I said that you would not be struck down by the will of God for what you want to do to me. You will not be forcing me to do anything."

"Don't say things you don't mean, Cas," Dean said, staring at the angel with too wide green eyes. "You don't know what you are asking."

"I do know. I may not understand it fully yet, but I am an angel of the Lord. I do not say things I do not mean," Castiel said, gravely, still staring intently at the hunter, blue eyes fixed on Dean's.

Dean couldn't look away, his fingers tightening slightly where they still rested upon Castiel's shoulders. Castiel smiled slightly again, before pressing a kiss to Dean's fingers gently, the only part of Dean that he could reach with his lips. His wing tip lifted Dean's T shirt slightly, brushing against Dean's skin slightly.

"Cas, we can't," Dean said, but finding it hard to pull away from the angel nonetheless. "Sam ...."

"...will not be back," Castiel said, as he stood in one fluid motion to face the hunter fully. "And we can!"

He stared into Dean's eyes patiently, waiting for the hunter's reaction. Dean threw all of his caution to the wind with a muffled curse, before leaning forward to kiss the angel forcefully. He threaded fingers in the angel's mussed up hair, licking the angel's lips until he opened up for Dean, letting him in to explore his mouth. Dean frowned slightly as he claimed the angel for his own, feeling the vessel's heart beat comfortingly against his chest when Castiel leant in closer.

Dean broke the kiss with some reluctance just long enough to draw a much needed breath. He found himself staring into the angel's dark blue eyes, and for a moment he thought he almost saw Castiel's true form peek out from the vessel's eyes.

Dean leant forward again, pressing fervent lips against the angel's, surprised once again at how soft they were against his, as Castiel rested gentle hands on Dean's hips. Never before had Dean felt so comforted, so wanted, so warmed by another person's presence and he found that he needed Castiel. In him he found peace, sanctuary, forgiveness. He'd found safety in his loneliness, had found comfort in Castiel's soothing arms. It was all he ever wanted in this life.

And then the unnamed feeling inside him came alive and grew into something Dean could no longer deny as being love, something the hunter didn't think he would ever feel, or would ever deserve. He pushed slightly on the slighter man's frame, pushing him forward, until Castiel was once again sitting on the edge of the bed. The angel looked up at him, eyes shining once again, lips swollen and slightly reddened from kissing, and his face was the happiest that Dean had ever seen it.

Dean leant forward and loosened the angel's tie, before pulling it up and over his dark haired head, and Castiel unbuttoned his own shirt. This action in itself told Dean this was the angel's assent, that he wanted Dean, and knew, accepted what Dean wanted to do to him.

Without hesitation, Dean pulled off his T shirt, moaning quietly when he felt Castiel's wingtips skim lightly over the bare skin of his chest, raising pleasurable goose bumps in their wake. His cock gave an interested jerk at the contact, wanting more and receiving it in the form of feathery soft caresses over his bare skin, before he pulled down his jeans in one fluid movement, to kick them away, sending them skidding into the nearby wall.

Castiel's pants soon followed suit, revealing that the angel was just as turned on by the whole experience as the hunter was, and feeling encouraged that he would not be thrown back into the Pit by either Castiel nor God himself, Dean moved in to rest one hand possessively on the angel's shoulder. Castiel closed his eyes momentarily, wetting his lips with the tip of his tongue, before turning his face once again to Dean's. A small smile flickered across his lips, brightening his expression and adding an extra crinkle to the corners of his eyes.

Dean seemed transfixed by the beauty of the angel before him, and he couldn't take his eyes off him, until the tension hanging in the air between them became too much for him, and he pushed Castiel gently down upon the bed. The angel went willingly enough, staring up at the hunter with a look of such trust, Dean had to smile almost sadly at him. He'd never had that trust placed in him so willingly before and to come from an angel, a being higher up the chain of command than Dean himself was quite a bewildering thought for the hunter. With only the slightest bit of coaxing, Dean positioned Castiel onto his front, the shadows of his wings darkening the air between the hunter and the bed.

Dean couldn't resist reaching out and running a hand over one of them, revelling in how soft it felt beneath his fingertips. Castiel moaned in pleasure, as though he liked his wings being stroked, so Dean repeated the gesture, smiling as more moans fell from the angel's lips, now running both hands over Castiel's wings. Dean watched the play of light across the angel's face as Castiel closed his eyes against the pleasure, full lips half parted in a smile.

The hunter pulled Castiel's boxers down smoothly - that last barrier between himself and the angel, and Castiel said something Dean couldn't understand in Aramaic. How Dean even knew it was Aramaic was beyond him, but still he knew.

That unnamed feeling rose up again in Dean threatening to consume him, and Dean let it - love, lust, call it what you will, but Dean was feeling it with every fiber of his being, and he did not want it ever to leave him. It was all directed to the being beneath him, the same being whose wings he was still stroking, who was still moaning in undisguised pleasure.

Dean stopped stroking long enough to pull off his own boxers, and in that short absence of his hands applying soothing pressure to his wings, Castiel opened his eyes long enough to turn them to the hunter's face in almost a pleading look, his lips puckered into a childish pout of disappointment.

"It's okay, Cas," Dean said, soothingly, as though he really was addressing a child, rather than a being far older than he was. "I'm not finished yet!"

Castiel continued to watch him with that same pouting look of disapproval, even as Dean spat in his own palm to run the glistening hand over his own cock. He closed his eyes against the sensations pouring through him, imagining for a moment that it was Castiel touching him instead of his own hand. To appease the angel, he stroked a wing until Castiel had settled down upon the bed once more.

Dean straddled him easily, revelling once again at the warmth coming from Castiel's body, sighing at the feel of feathers trailing their way across his bare chest, as he prepared Castiel for Dean's imminent entrance. Castiel whimpered a little at the feel of fingers inside him, but did not stop Dean, which further encouraged the hunter that the angel wanted this.

He thrust himself inside the angel, forever marking him as his, as he continued thrusting into the angel, moaning at the feel of Castiel, beneath him, around him, his warmth, his feathers, Castiel.    His chest brushed against feathers, as Castiel murmured something unintelligible in Aramaic beneath him, but by the tone of his voice, Dean could tell that his words were far from a complaint.And then Dean recognised Castiel's murmurings of his own name, before Castiel cried out the hunter's name louder as he came. As the angel's body tightened around Dean, so Dean came, burying his release inside the angel, with a hoarse cry of - "Castiel!"

 

He withdrew, before laying down beside his angel, moving a wing slightly so that he would not break it, finally feeling satisfied like he hadn't in such a long time. Castiel draped a possessive arm across Dean's abdomen, followed by a wing, as he smiled benignly upon the elder Winchester. Dean found himself smiling back into the angel's guileless blue eyes, before he leant forward to kiss him softly upon the lips.

"Go to sleep, now, Dean," Castiel said, softly, as he pressed gentle fingertips against Dean's forehead.

Dean settled down with a smile, knowing full well that the angel would be gone by the time morning - and Sam - arrived. But he knew that Castiel would be back. He would always come back, now that they had shared this moment. They had shared comfort in each other's arms and would find comfort again ....

 

fini

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