There is a part of Castiel that recoils at this. His wings have bathed in the waters of the Garden; his wings have sent him soaring through the Spheres of Heaven.
Though it is perhaps because he treasures his wings that he is allowing Dean to do this. It is that part of him – the part that cannot deny Dean anything – that has Castiel lying on his stomach, humping the mattress helplessly while Dean curves his hands around the strong musculature of his wings in study. Castiel’s body hums and purrs under Dean’s touch, callused fingers digging through feathers to reach the flesh beneath.
“Look at you,” Dean says, his bare thighs hot where they press either side of Castiel’s body. “You want it so bad, don’t you?”
“Yes, Dean,” Castiel gasps.
Dean blessedly grabs the edges of his wings and pulls. Castiel’s chokes on the pleasure of it, both wings drawn back hard enough that his chest rises off the bed. Dean doesn’t let go, holding him like that as Castiel twists under him in an attempt to get some leverage, but his body is reduced to twin lines of sharp pleasure that run from the points of Dean’s hands straight down to his groin.
“Dean, Dean!” Castiel claws clumsily at the sheets, but that only makes Dean snap his hands back, pulling the wings harder into a new shape and it’s just too much.
Castiel is lost, cock pulsing wetness into the bed below him, wave after wave of pleasure rolling over him.
His human vessel and true form are overlapped in this unusual amalgam that Dean can physically touch and send spiraling into wanton delight. This is perhaps a side effect of his slowly falling, but he cannot mourn it, not when it has brought him this: physical nerves and inner essence twisted into a form that’s somehow both at once. His wings have certainly never felt anything like this in all his previous existence. They were never as erotic as they are now, aching with need wherever Dean grips them.
Or maybe that’s just Dean.
Castiel certainly would never have allowed another living creature to climb on top of him as Dean is doing now. Castiel’s climax has passed, though he is still shaking, so Dean releases his wings, lowering him back down to lie flat on the bed. A strong hand slides between the heated space of Castiel’s groin and the sheets, drawing the wetness out, and then there’s the meaty sound of skin on skin.
Castiel makes a disappointed sound, hoping Dean can understand him. Dean is pleasuring himself with Castiel’s come, but Castiel wants that hardness inside him. Unfortunately, he is too blissed out to turn over and make that desire known.
Dean snickers softly, and then he’s literally on top of Castiel, knees pressing on Castiel’s back as he adjusts his balance. Castiel is strong enough for this to not be remotely uncomfortable, and he is in fact pleased by the feel of Dean’s weight keeping him still.
“You’re really something, Cas,” Dean says. He is panting now, and Castiel can hear the speeding up of his hand on his erection. “You want me to fuck you, right? You want me inside you?”
Castiel nods, still unable to speak. He raises his wings, stretching the pinion feathers until the edges touch Dean’s face. Every single feather on Castiel’s wings is as sensitive as his vessel’s fingers, so when he trails the tips of those feathers across Dean’s neck, he can feel the sweat and heated flush of Dean’s skin as he brings himself closer to climax.
“Just look at you,” Dean groans, body shifting as he grinds air. “You want my cock, don’t you? You want it to open you up and split you open, filling up all that emptiness. You want me to come inside you, don’t you, Cas?”
“Yes, Dean, yes,” Castiel says, voice thick and dry. “Please. I want it.”
“Well, you’re not going to have it,” Dean says, but there is the suggestion of a hidden promise in the denial. “Oh – oh, fuck.”
Dean makes a pained, angry sound when his orgasm hits. Castiel starts to hum appreciatively, but is shocked when he feels the sudden splash of wetness on his wings. The hot liquid falls in heavy drops, and Castiel can feel every single one of them on his sensitive feathers. He tries to pull his wings away but then Dean’s hands are grabbing at them – Dean’s wet hands are grabbing at them – holding them still while the rivulets trail down the feathery surface.
“Dean,” Castiel says, stunned. “That is...”
There’s a grunting sound when Dean tries to get his voice back. He still sounds breathless when he finally manages to say, “What, you can have my come inside you, but not on you?”
“But Dean, this is...” Castiel’s flutters his wings, but he doesn’t try to wrest them from Dean’s grip. He finds himself mesmerized by the new sensation of Dean’s come seeping through the surface of his wings.
Dean finally lets go, but it’s only to bring his palms into the wet spots on Castiel’s wings, pushing the filth in. Castiel bristles automatically, but there is such possessive determination in Dean’s fingers that he cannot pull away. Dean is combing through the feathers now, the cooling liquid drawing the feathers together in sticky clumps.
“You’re gonna keep this here,” Dean promises softly. “You’re gonna pull your wings back in just like this. You’re gonna have my come all over you, and no one will know. No one but you and me.”
Castiel is hard again, penis swollen where it’s pressed against his stomach. He swallows, whole body frozen as he follows the stroking of Dean’s fingers.
“You’re going to feel me on you,” Dean says. “That’s what you want, isn’t it, Cas?”
“I...” Castiel will do it. He will tuck his come-stained wings inside just as they are. He will dress up respectably and step outside this motel room to do the things that he has to do – and the whole time Dean will be right there with him, the feel and smell of him invisible to everyone but him. “Dean.”
Dean swiftly shoves two still-wet fingers inside Castiel’s opening. The needy whine Castiel makes betrays everything, as does the way he flexes his wings to feel the threads of drying come stretch between his feathers.
“I knew it,” Dean says smugly. “You want me everywhere on you. In you.”
Heaven forgive him, Castiel does.