Ugh. Your porn is so perfect. Could I request some Team Free Love wing!kink? It's my 21st birthday tomorrow!!
((HAPPY BIRTHDAY YOU FANTASTIC SOUL I HOPE ITāS AWESOME.))
Sam and Dean hadnāt been prepared for just howĀ differentĀ an Angelās wings were - they all looked the same when scorched into the ground, splayed out with in death, and theyād thought, seeing Gabrielās wings when heād ādiedā, that they were be similar. That Castielās would resemble the shadows Dean had seen against the barn wall when theyād first met.
In fairness, Castielās were a similar shape. They were large and reminded the brothers of an eagleās in their shape and how they folded against his back. Castiel liked to lay on a bed and just spread them out, a real bed hog Dean would call him, and let the air currents in the motel room gently stir the downy feathers along his back. The longest feathers were about the size of Deanās forearm, the shortest barely bigger than a thumb, curly and fluffy like a baby birdās.
āHeās still young,ā Gabriel would explain. āTheyāll molt out eventually.ā
The Archangelās had no softness to them - they gave the impression of sharpness even though neither of the humans had ever cut themselves on them. They were smaller, too, but many - even though Sam and Dean could only see two of them, when they moved they left impressions behind like blurry animation, and when Sam had asked how many wings Gabriel actually had his answer had been āthousandsā.
They were a deep bronze with flashes of red and black, the secondaries looked like theyād been lit on fire while those closest to his back reminded Sam of rusted metal. They were beautiful, coarse to the touch like the skin of a shark, powerful and strong on the top, but the underside bore feathers that were very soft, like petting the fur of a kitten, and on the underside they were more coppery than anything else.
Castielās were black - most Seraphās were, heād explained, so that they wouldnāt stand out one from another during a battle - but there were flashes of other colors in them. On of his primary feathers was an electric blue, and throughout his wings was a fine dusting of almost silver, giving them a shine and lustre that was absolutely gorgeous.
āBecause Iāve been remade so many times,ā Castiel would explain, arching his wings into Dean and Samās exploring hands, sighing softly at every touch.
Dean liked to kiss the wings, let the feathers glide through his fingers like water and kiss the arches, hold onto them while they had sex or cuddled into one giant nest to sleep. His touches were almost absent - reaching for them even when they werenāt visible, sighing at the warm brush of softness heād receive.
Sam tried to learn them - deliberate digs of his fingertips into the sensitive places that made oil leak out and allowed him to groom them. He liked to test their motion, their strength, pull at them until the Angels cried out and massage them until they were purring like overgrown cats.
āWhat other colors are there?ā Dean would ask occasionally, wondering.
āLuciferās were gold,ā Castiel would say, looking to his brother for affirmation. āRaphaelās were white.ā
āMichael had purple wings,ā Gabriel said softly, and the brothers knew there was some kind of meaning in that, even if they couldnāt understand it. āPurple and gold.ā
āAnd green,ā Castiel sighed, rubbing the arch of his wing against Deanās hand again to encourage him to get back to grooming them. Perhaps there was some significance to that, Dean had no idea.
He licked his lips, his hands gathering more oil onto them to comb through their feathers. āLike Mardi Gras,ā he said after a moment, causing Castiel to let out a startled laugh.
āMardi Gras,ā Gabriel repeated, eyes glowing with mirth. āSure.ā
