Soldier Boy x Castiel Banter
TLDR: Soldier Boy sees Castiel’s wings and has an existential crisis (with a side of unwanted feelings)
A desolate road at midnight, the air thick with static from a recent fight. Soldier Boy is sitting on the hood of a wrecked car, chest heaving, bruised but grinning like he just won the damn lottery. Castiel stands a few feet away, wings out "fully out" spanning wide, dark and ethereal, shifting like they belong to something outside the realm of human understanding. The moonlight catches on them just right, making him look—well.
Like something Soldier Boy should not be feeling things about.
Soldier Boy: [running a hand down his face, exhaling] Okay, so.
Castiel: [watching him patiently] So?
Soldier Boy: [gesturing vaguely] You’re just gonna whip those out and act like it’s normal?
Castiel: [tilting his head] I am an angel. This is normal.
Soldier Boy: [grumbling, shifting in place] Yeah, well, normal ain't supposed to make me wanna drop to my damn knees and ... never mind.
[Castiel takes a slow step forward, wings still half-extended, the air practically humming with something heavy and unspoken.]
Castiel: [calmly] You seem… unsettled.
Soldier Boy: [snorts] Yeah, no shit, Sherlock. You’re out here looking like a goddamn revelation, and I’m supposed to what? Shake your hand? Buy you a beer?
Castiel: [deadpan] That would be a reasonable response.
[Soldier Boy drags a hand down his face, looking absolutely exasperated.]
Soldier Boy: [muttering] Right. Sure. Lemme just ignore the fact that you’re standing there like something outta one of those creepy old church paintings. All you need’s a choir and some dramatic lighting.
[Castiel's wings shift slightly, the edges curling inward like they’re reacting to the conversation.]
Castiel: [musing] I could summon a choir.
Soldier Boy: [pointing at him] Don’t you dare.
[A beat. Soldier Boy leans back, rubbing his temples like this is personally offensive.]
Soldier Boy: [muttering, dragging a hand down his face] Man, I had issues before you, but this? This is some on-my-knees, begging-for-mercy, mind-wrecking type shit.
Castiel: [blinking] Do you require assistance?
Soldier Boy: [dryly] Yeah, Cas. Call up heaven, see if they’ve got a hotline for unexpected celestial attraction syndrome.
[Castiel just stares at him. Soldier Boy looks back. Neither of them move.]
Soldier Boy: [grumbling, looking away] …This is your fault.
Castiel: [mildly amused] Is it?
Soldier Boy: [gesturing vaguely at his entire existence] Look at you. If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to mess with me.
Castiel: [stepping just a little closer, voice lower] I wouldn’t need to try.
[A long pause. Soldier Boy inhales sharply, scrubs a hand through his hair, and mutters something under his breath that definitely isn’t a prayer but feels like one. Then he lets out a rough, tired laugh.]
Soldier Boy: [grinning, shaking his head] If you weren’t already God’s problem, angel, I swear to hell, you’d be mine.
Castiel: [quietly] Perhaps I already am.
[Silence. The wind shifts. Soldier Boy swears he feels it in his chest.]
Soldier Boy: [muttering, more to himself than anyone] Yeah. That’s what I was afraid of.
