Author's note: Dean can see Cas's wings. It gets personal. That is all.

It's a pretty normal day for the Winchesters. A case has just been finished, and the two of them are sprawled out across their twin beds, lazily flipping through the TV channels. Cas, who had been helping them out on the case, is perched (really, that's the best way to describe it they way he's crouching) on the chair beside Dean's bed, squinting at the television in a puzzled manner.

Dean is in a hell of a lot of pain from his shoulder, which had been dislocated for the – what, third? – time until about three minutes ago, when Sam had snapped it back into place. It doesn't help that the demon had also managed to push him through yet another glass window in the process, shredding his skin through the layers. Basically, his left shoulder is burning with an intense fiery agony, especially after it was doused in tequila and stitched up unprofessionally. At least it isn't permanent – and at least, it wasn't his leg. As far as Dean is concerned, if his good arm and legs are working, he won't stop hunting. Even with a broken leg, he's reluctant to stop, simply because he doesn't want to think about what would happen to him if he let himself dwell on the memories that got pushed further back with information about demons and angels and ghosts and monsters and cases and anything but emotions. If he keeps working, saving lives, maybe he'll stop feeling guilty, maybe the pain will go away.

He winces as he puts too much pressure on the wound. Dean's glad that he chose to put on a tank top so as not to ruin his good shirts with the blood-soaked bandage. The motel manager can deal with the stains for all he cares.

Cas glances at him with alarm.

"Dean, are you alright?"

Dean gives him a funny look. "Yeah, fine, stop being a worrywart." Dean almost yelps with pain again, completely cancelling out his previous statement.

"You are obviously in pain. Let me help." Castiel has an almost commanding tone as he hops to his feet and reaches out towards Dean's bandaged shoulder, which is closest to the angel.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," Dean pulls away sharply, pushing his hands away. "Don't do anything weird, okay? Just take away the pain or something."

"I don't see how healing your wounds qualifies as weird."

"Just do it, Cas!" Dean tries not to shy away from the angel's hands. He expects some sort of quick pain relief, but instead, there's an intense heat. Before he can cry out, the feeling fades away along with the sting of the torn flesh.

Then, for reasons Dean doesn't know, as Cas turns away, his arm shifts slightly, and Castiel's hand brushes against the slightly raised handprint marked out on Dean's upper arm, causing an electric sensation to race throughout his veins. For a moment, they make eye contact, an inexplicable connection forms between them, and then it's gone, like it never happened. Neither one speaks. Cas returns to his spot on the armchair. Dean can't help but wonder, what the ever-living fuck just happened?

At first, nothing changes. Things are a bit tense the next morning for Cas and Dean, since they both know that it happened, but Sam doesn't mention it, just gives them odd glances every once in a while. They go on hunting as usual, Cas popping in and out along the way. It's good. Well, as good as it's been for months, at least.

The next day, Sam and Dean are walking down from a previously haunted house, the sun just rising, when Castiel appears unexpectedly before them. However, something is incredibly different.

"What the hell?" Dean shouts in utter disbelief.

Two enormous wings are sprouting from Cas's back. They're coated in black and gray feathers, ranging from the pale color of the sea on a foggy morning, to the deep gray of long-dead charcoal, to the inky black of a raven's feather. For a moment, they are half-opened, and then they fold neatly into his back, seemingly unaffected by his coat. For a moment, the rippling muscles in the shoulder joints fascinate Dean, and then he notices that the feathers are bristled up slightly and Dean wonders why… oh. Cas looks very alarmed and tilts his head to look at him.

"What?" Sam and Cas ask simultaneously.

"Sam, can't you…" Dean starts to gesture at Cas, but he lets his hand fall when he sees Sam's confusion. "You don't notice anything… I dunno, different?"

"Besides the fact that you just freaked out over nothing, no, not really." Sam says sharply, eyeing him worriedly. Cas seems a lot more concerned, scrutinizing Dean's face intensely, causing him to swallow nervously.

"Cas… um… can I talk to you for a sec?"

"Yes. I think this is for Dean and I to discuss alone, Sam." Sam looks mildly annoyed but obligatorily goes back to the Impala.

As soon as his brother's out of earshot, Dean bursts out, "What the frigging hell, man?"

"I don't understand," Cas says, genuinely confused. Dean makes a mental note as he sees the wings flutter almost nervously.

"You… you just… Cas, since when can I see your wings?"

Cas looks like someone just hit him with a baseball bat. "You can see my wings?"

"Yeah, and I'd like to know why you've only just now decided to show them!"

"I did not decide to show them to anyone. It must have been from our… contact… two nights ago. Human eyes are not meant to view them – most would become blind instantly because they are a physical manifestation of my Grace, Dean! That isn't something to be… publicly recognized."

Now, the wings are held stiffly behind Cas, as he tries in vain to hide them – it's impossible, as they're bigger than he is. Dean has a sudden realization.

"Are you telling me that you're… embarrassed?"

"I… no, Dean, it's just… no human has ever seen them before, except for shadows on the walls when I allow it. I simply do not know how to react."

"Then why are you trying to hide them?" Dean can't stop his eyes from skimming over the elegantly beautiful feathers.

"In human culture," Cas mutters slowly, "dark wings are a symbol of evil, aren't they?"

Dean feels his heart skip a beat, and then it pounds faster and faster against his ribs, like a caged bird, desperate to escape. "Cas, they're… they're beautiful."

This time, the angel's captivatingly blue eyes are filled with disbelief. "You truly believe that?"

"You think I'm joking?"

"I wouldn't put it past you," Cas murmurs.

Dean scoffs. "In case you didn't get the memo, you big dumbass, I'm not joking. You've got yourself a pair of badass, handsome wings, big boy."

Cas doesn't reply. Instead, he steps closer, mouth open slightly, eyes unsure.

"Not that you're bad-looking without the wings." Dean grins.

"I don't think you're bad-looking, either," Cas says gruffly, avoiding eye contact.

Dean laughs. Then he reaches out and touches a feather, marveling at the smooth texture and noting Castiel's shiver. That's when he turns his head and realizes how close they are.

To his surprise, it's Cas who takes the final step and closes the space between them. It's a pretty chaste kiss, but in Dean's eyes, it's the best he' s ever had.

Dean doesn't pull away, like he might have if Cas tried kissing him a few weeks ago. However, he's been avoiding this strange, almost magnetic attraction for so long that he's decided not to have a whole "gay crisis" or anything now. It had been a long time ago that he'd freaked out and realized that what he feels for his best friend were a bit more than normally felt for someone of the best friend status.

Castiel opens his eyes a millisecond after him, and it's not for the first time that Dean's breath catches at the sheer intensity of those blue, blue eyes. The bluest blue that ever blued, he thinks with a small smile before releasing a little sigh of happiness. Cas's wings are more relaxed now, partially opened and slack. Dean is incredibly grateful that they had Sam go around the corner to the car, and then walks past Castiel, brushing his hand against the silky feathers one last time.

He has to grin at the angel's dazed expression from the kiss, and his slightly mussed up hair, reacting in the same way as his feathers did.

"If you know what's good for you," Dean mutters at Cas from the side of his mouth, "you won't mention a word of that to Sam, okay?"

"Agreed," Cas says with an amused hint to his voice. They get in the car, Dean in the passenger seat, the angel in the back.

"What was that all about? Why'd you need me to be so far away just to talk?" Sam asks, somewhat suspiciously.

"Sam, Castiel's got wings."

"Yeah, and?"

"I can see them, Sammy!" Dean tries not to glance back at Cas when he says this, and he hopes that Sam doesn't notice how he's not making eye contact.

"You what?" Sam looks unreasonably excited.

"Yeah, I can see them."

"What do they look like?" He's almost like a five year old!

"Well, they're big, and sort of gray and black," and also badass, epic, and beautiful.

"How'd that even happen?"

"Cas, you want to explain?" Dean calls over his shoulder.

"I accidentally touched the handprint on his shoulder when I eased the pain on his wound from the demon. It must have triggered this new form of sight."

"Can you… can you… are they physically there?" Sam asks tentatively, his eyes wide and childlike. Dean can't help but smile.

"Yeah. I can touch them, if that's what you mean." When Sam gives him an odd look, Dean wishes he hadn't said that. Oh, shit.

"He let you touch them? Dean, that's… um…"

Wait… oh god no. His emotions must have shown on his face because Sam laughs.

"You didn't know that wings are special to angels? Dean, it's like they're grace in physical form – that's a pretty big deal. If Cas let you touch his wings…" Sam just shakes his head disbelievingly.

"Shut up, I didn't know."

Sam slows the car as a pleased yet shocked expression crosses his face. "But Cas did. Dean, is there something you want to tell me?"

"Nope. Just keep driving, man, can we just get back to the motel already?" I don't want to talk about this.

Sam just laughs. When they get back to the motel, he asks Dean to go get him a water bottle from the vending machine. The moment he walks back into their room, a key card is shoved into his hand and he catches a fleeting grin on Sam's face.

"What the hell?" Dean exclaims.

"Get a room!" Sam replies gleefully. That's when Dean realizes that Cas is standing at his shoulder, completely ignoring his personal space. Sam can't see it, but one of his wingtips is stretched out and touching his left arm behind his back.

"What- Sam! Come on, is it-" Dean splutters helplessly.

"Dean, you've been goggling at him for weeks, and you can't just both show up looking flustered and happy and expect me to believe you weren't doing something other than talking back there. I'll be fine in here." Sam still seems too pleased about this.

"Are you… have you been wanting for this to happen?"

"Hey, I can't help it – if I can see that my big bro's finally found his soul mate, who am I to argue?"

"Soul mate?"

"Seriously, man, Castiel freaking dragged you out of perdition and hasn't let you leave his sight since. That's not exactly something that can be ignored, man."

Dean sighs. I give up. Before he can speak again, Castiel interrupts.

"He's right, Dean."

"What?"

Instead of answering with words, Cas gives Dean a tentative kiss on the cheek. "Just to make sure you didn't forget what happened earlier."

"Like I ever could!" Dean manages to squeak out before Cas shuts him up with feathers brushing across his other arm, wings folding around him like a cocoon.

Sam is visibly trying not to burst out laugh and Dean scowls at him. "I knew it!" Sam declares. "Dude – I always knew you were gay!"

"I'm not – " he starts. "Well, maybe a bit for Cas." Dean admits. He tries to suppress a shiver as the feathers trace his chin.

"Dean," Sam says, squinting at the two of them. "Is Cas… what is he doing?"

Cas is staring at him, almost in front of him now, both wings encircling Dean.

"I… I don't know. Cas?"

The angel doesn't reply for a moment. "Sam, I think we should be on our own now."

"Yeah, that's what your room's for!" Sam nods at the door behind them. Dean swallows, hard.

Cas reaches behind Dean to the doorknob and pushes forward, making Dean back up into the wood and opening the door. He is captivated by the intensity in Castiel's eyes, and suddenly he notices a sort of… glow around him, growing by the minute, like it's coming from inside him. He barely notices as Cas's wings guide him to the next room and towards the bed.

Some of the light in Cas's eyes seems to leave, and then Dean feels an intense, but not painful, heat inside of him. Cas's eyes flash with energy for a moment.

"Cas, what's happening?"

"Your soul and my grace… they seem to want to connect."

"What?"

Cas's voice is somewhat unsteady. "When angels… when they mate, their Graces intertwine forever. It seems that your soul is doing the same with my Grace."

"Wait… so this is some sort of… mating thing?"

"Yes. Do you object?"

It's a bit much to take in. Dean blinks several times. "I… I don't… no."

Cas's wings leave his sides only to suddenly spread outwards to their full length, which is a good twenty feet each. Dean is incredibly thankful that they open in a slight diagonal, or they would have smashed through the walls. For a few minutes, Dean is speechless. He moves from his spot in front of Castiel and off to the side, at the angel's left wing. Exchanging a glance with him for consent, Dean reaches out a hand to caress the smooth feathers, choosing a deep gray one, marveling at the silky soft texture. Cas makes a little noise of happiness and Dean smiles, moving on to the next feather, a pure black one. After a minute, he runs both of his hands along the top of the wing, causing it to shudder slightly and the feathers to spike up a bit and relax again at his touch. When Dean looks back at Cas, the expression on the angel's face is pure joy.

"You like that?" Cas nods vigorously. Dean walks back over to him and gives him a gentle kiss on the mouth. "What about that?"

"Don't stop," Cas murmurs, pressing harder into Dean, his wings encircling them once more.

"I" a kiss on Cas's forehead "wouldn't" on his nose "dream of it." This, time, it's Cas who impatiently presses his lips against Dean's. Castiel's tongue pokes between Dean's lips and he opens his mouth willingly. Before he knows it, Cas's fingers are running through his hair and as Dean's arms wrap around Castiel's waist, he presses back onto Dean, pushing him onto the bed.

Dean smiles at Cas's gentle laugh, and their lips meet again, soft little kisses, almost playful, and most certainly the happiest kisses he's ever had. Cas's weight is warm against his body, pressing down almost comfortingly, and he feels his heart soar ecstatically like it never has before. Is this what falling in love is like? I don't think I'm gonna mind it.

After a moment of these sweet kisses, Cas simply slides off of him a bit and rests his head on Dean's shoulder. Dean buries his nose in the angel's soft hair, running his fingers through the locks, and is happier than he's ever remembered. He gently disentangles Cas from his trench coat and tie, and feels movement as Cas toes off his shoes. That's as far as it goes, and Dean eases himself under the covers with Castiel. For once, he's satisfied with simply being with one of the few people he truly loved. An emotion rolls off of Dean, of simple pleasure, of content, and Cas smiles, seeming to sense this change.

Suddenly, the tendrils of Cas's grace and Dean's soul shoot out towards each other and connect, and Dean's vision flashes white. All of the hairs on his body stand on end, and he shivers down the length of his spine. Cas's wings flare out with a loud noise like taut sails in a storm, knocking over the lamps and hitting both walls. The air is crackling with energy, almost tangible. For a split second, angel and human are one being, the soul and grace indistinguishable from each other, and each can feel the other's heartbeat thumping out in unison. Then their very minds connect, and with a gasp, Cas and Dean are hearing each other's thoughts, feeling their emotions, exchanging ideas without forming words, and they both just know –

I love you.

Then the moment is over, as quickly as it started. However, Dean can still sense Cas in the back of his mind, just as Cas can sense Dean. There's an incredibly strong link between them, bonding them in a surprisingly intimate way.

The energy in the room fades away, only to rest within their hearts and thread between them, entwining the human and the angel like two invisible, unbreakable ropes attaching them forever. However, physically, the two of them are suddenly depleted, and Cas's injured wings (Dean winces at the pain coming through the link) fold over the both of them as Dean rolls over. He lets Cas wrap his arms around him, cradling him in a warm embrace.

What was that? Dean whispers in his head, trying to direct it at the part of his mind that opened up to Castiel.

Your soul and my grace fully melded. We are now mated.

Mated.

Yes.

What does that entail?

Simply an emotional bond, with angels, but since you're human, I'm not sure. It should not harm you.

Okay.

Silence.

Thank you, Cas.

For what?

For being here with me, for saving me, for staying. For making me feel safe.

You've saved me much more than I have you.

That's not true and you know it.

A small flood of amusement wafts over from Cas.

I'd be lost without you, Dean thinks at him.

As I would be without you; Dean, I… I love you.

Yeah. I love you too, Cas.