Title: Whisper in the Wind
Author: martyred-wings
Pairing: Dean/Castiel
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All characters belong to Mr Eric Kripke. I make no money from this - this is purely for entertainment purposes. Title taken from a wrestling move (yes, by Jeff Hardy - thanks to my good friend Izzy for unwittingly giving me the inspiration for the title!)
Summary: Written for the Dean/Castiel kink meme with the prompt - Dean/Castiel - Dean's fascination with Castiel's wings.


I waited until I knew that Dean was alone, his brother leaving to do much needed research in the town's library, before I appeared, like a whisper in the wind, rain dripping in steady droplets against the carpeted floor of the motel room. Thunder growled ominously overhead, and great flashes of lightning threatened to tear the very sky above us apart.

Dean seemed to pick up on my more somber than usual mood, proving once again that he really had gotten to know me quite well in the short time of our relationship. No longer was I just an angel to his hunter - things had gone more intimate than mere friendship now.

He just looked at me with green eyes scanning my body, chewing slowly upon a mouthful of pie he'd just loaded into his mouth. Crumbs littered his lips, and the front of his T Shirt, but he didn't seem to notice. He just continued to stare, before he licked his lips in an unconscious gesture, removing some of the crumbs from the corners of his mouth. Thunder growled again overhead, almost drowning out his next words.

"Someone's had a bad day at the office. You really need some pie, dude. Pie makes everything better, you know," Dean said, and he smiled, as though he was trying to make me feel better with a joke.

I smiled slightly at Dean, before I said - "I think I will eat something. Pie would be nice, I think."

"Well, don't sound too enthusiastic, Cas. There's cheesecake somewhere, if you'd rather," Dean said, snorting through his nose at me, as he pushed another pie laden fork into his mouth.

"I would rather have the cheesecake. Thank you, Dean," I said, before sitting beside him, uncomfortably close, yet Dean didn't seem to mind the closeness; at least not anymore.

Dean's eyes flicked downwards, then up to meet my gaze, before he set his plate aside, half eaten pie still left enticingly on its surface. The smell of apple and cinnamon wafted through the air, as Dean stood, his warming presence leaving my side for a moment, and the slightly chill air wafted across my slowly drying clothes.

"It's toffee. I hope you like toffee," Dean said, throwing the words over his shoulder at me as he retrieved the cheesecake from a box on the side. "I dunno why I'm even asking - it's the only flavour we've got."

I smiled at that before I accepted the cheesecake when Dean gave it to me, with a small nod of thanks, before carefully starting to eat. I closed my eyes against the flavours of the toffee and the creamy cheese, coupled with the biscuit as the combination of flavours flooded across my tongue.

"So what happened to you out there, Cas?" Dean asked, hands going to my shoulders, trying to take the wet coat from around me.

I put down the plate, stood and let him take the coat away, soon followed by my jacket. I could feel the thin cotton shirt sticking to my back and Dean was staring quite hard at me, swallowing quite obviously.

"I saw one of my brothers killed today," was all I said, and Dean frowned.

"I'm sorry," was all the response he gave.

His pie was left forgotten beside him as he reached out to lay a supportive hand upon my shoulder, moving in close to wrap comforting arms around me. I leant into him, permitting the contact, welcoming it, closing my eyes and relaxing against the warmth of his body.

I felt Dean run soothing hands down my back and I unfurled my wings, inviting Dean to stroke them. He knew how much I loved it when he ran gentle hands over my wings, and he did it now. I moaned into his shoulder, eyes still closed, lips parted, as he ran gentle fingertips through, over and under my wings. I felt my borrowed body react, erection pressing hard against the fabric of my boxers, and I braced trembling hands upon Dean's hips.

He stopped momentarily as though he thought I was trying to get him to stop, but when I didn't protest, he continued, massaging the base of my wings where they erupted from my back.

"Please ... Cas, let me feel them," Dean said, breath ruffling against my hair, tickling slightly and I lifted my gaze to meet his.

I knew what he was asking of me, and I wrapped my wings around him in their warm embrace, caressing his sides, his face, everywhere I could reach. I wasn't the only one who liked the feel of my wings, it seemed.

Dean closed his eyes against the pleasure, and I watched the lightning from outside flashing across his face, lighting it with almost angelic light, and I inhaled sharply, feeling my erection grow impossibly harder. His hands slowly stopped their gentle massages as I continued to stroke, to tease him with wingtips and feathers, watching the play of light on his face as his breathing became more erratic, more ragged. I could feel how hard he was, pressed up against me.

I leant in, stealing a kiss, nibbling his neck with gentle teeth, and Dean murmured my name to the skies. I tugged at his jeans, pulling the belt free, pushing them to the floor as another peal of thunder crashed overhead. and the rain clattered against the glass of the window in staccatto gunshots. I stripped Dean of the rest of his clothes, stroking him all the while with wingtips, enjoying the moans I wrung from between Dean's parted lips. His eyes were still closed to the world but I could sense how turned on he was by my gentle caresses.

His hands drew up, running slightly trembling fingers over the surface of my wings once again, fascinated by their soft surface, seemingly unable to get enough of them. A shiver wound deliciously through me at the contact and I moaned in pleasure.

Dean's eyes slowly opened at the sound of my voice, and a smile flitted across my face, echoed by a smile from Dean. Neither of us spoke, but it was like some kind of mutual agreement between us, unspoken, yet there all the same. We both made our way to the bed, Dean still casually touching the edge of one of my wings, making tremors of excitement roil through me. Dean was the first to lay upon the bed, and I crawled on after him, to cover him with wings and body, canting his legs to just the right position, so that I could both enter and look down upon him.

He stared up at me, wordlessly, before he pulled me down to press a kiss to willing lips, licking slightly, begging entrance and I opened my mouth slightly, letting him in. My tongue met his in an almost sinful dance before I pulled away with some reluctance. Dean didn't question, didn't protest, merely looked off to one side, reaching over to grab his lube from the bedside cabinet. He looked up at me in almost silent appeal, and I felt the ghost of a smile flit across my face.

I took the lube from him, squeezing some out onto waiting fingers, spreading it across the sensitive skin there, before I reached down to press one finger then two inside him. Dean arched his body up to meet mine, eyes closed once again as a stifled cry worked its way past kiss swollen lips, as I worked my fingers into the tight ring of muscle until he was loose enough for me.

I withdrew my fingers, before squeezing more of the lube onto my hand once again, rubbing it over my stiff cock, biting down on my bottom lip against the intense pleasure I felt over this one small action. I closed my eyes, swallowing past a suddenly dry throat, before I guided myself into Dean, thrusting with just enough pressure to gain entrance, and Dean murmured out his pleasure, mingled with slight pain. I waited as he shifted slightly, enjoying the play of muscle rubbing against my cock, until Dean settled down once again, reaching out to grab onto one wing with trembling left hand like I was his last life line.

I started to move, to thrust deep inside him, claiming him as my own, loving the feel of his hand clutching my wing, of him running fingers through trembling feathers. He opened his eyes, to look up at me in renewed wonder, as he took his cock in his free hand, stroking himself in time with his strokes of my wing. I thrust harder into him, feeling the time of my impending release draw near, finally letting go, with my head thrown back, and a scream of Dean's name to the ceiling.

Moments after, and Dean came, coming over my stomach with his hot release, his cries joining with mine, as his fingers dug into my wing so hard, it bordered on pain. I did not protest, merely bore it, knowing how much it meant for him to do this, to touch my wings on release.

I withdrew slowly from him, as the rain continued to batter the windows outside, seemingly harder than before, and the thunder had not given up its ceaseless growling. All this didn't matter to us, as Dean tucked himself safely into my side, hand still clutched in one wing, as I wrapped the other close about him.

"Cas," Dean said, softly.

"Yes, Dean," I said, stroking a sweat soaked strand of hair from Dean's forehead.

"Please don't ever leave me," he said, turning his face away as though ashamed of his apparent sudden weakness.

"I won't," I replied, and I meant it. "As long as you never leave me."

"I won't," Dean said, and I could see that he meant it.

We fell silent at that, neither speaking again, as we listened to the sound of the storm playing itself out on the world outside ...