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ladylilithprime · 3 months ago

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Day 17: Wings

(Follows Day 7, wherein Chekhov's Lube from Day 6 makes its return appearance.)

THE POWER COMING back on roused Sam from his comfortable doze beneath his angel blanket, the lights and television coming to life again nearly blinding after the comfortable dimness of the electric candle. He groaned and attempted to bury his face in the sweep of soft dark feathers before his brain had quite caught up with him and he dropped his head back into the pillows with an embarrassed and apologetic flush. Above him, Castiel slowly let out the breath he had quickly indrawn at the nuzzle to his left wing and favored Sam with a soft smile.

"If you will let me up for just a moment, I will turn the lights back off," he offered, then added in gently teasing answer to the question Sam couldn't make himself ask aloud, "And I will come right back."

"Should probably turn off the TV, too," Sam mumbled, wincing. The previously pleasantly quiet documentary on birds had, in the intervening hours of the power outage, switched over to a much more high energy presentation on monster truck rallies, with flashing lights and the revving of suped up engines.

He reluctantly opened his arms (and hands) to release the angel, unable to resist letting his eyes drop to take in Castiel's naked form as he sat up. He tried to keep his eyes from straying too far, but it was practically impossible. Castiel was completely without shame in his nakedness-- and the angel certainly had nothing to be ashamed about! Even aside from the solidly built and decently maintained physical body that used to belong to Jimmy Novak, Castiel made no move to return his wings to whatever plane he kept them on most of the time.

They weren't actually black, Sam noticed helplessly. While the feathers along the upper parts of the wings were dark, and very dark close to the base, the color was a lot closer to purple or indigo and shading down into brighter shades of amethyst, cobalt, even flashes of emerald and tiny flecks of silver near the tips of each feather. There were other marks, patches where the feather growth was uneven hinting at past injuries and slow regeneration, but those places couldn't detract at all from the majestic beauty of them. Or their size. Even though he was obviously keeping them manifested for Sam's viewing, at least if that heated sideways look was any indication, Castiel still kept them partially folded, out of what Sam guessed to be spacial considerration for the dimensions of the motel room, lifting or drawing them in to avoid knocking into furniture.

The television was switched off, dropping the room back into comfortable silence, and then Castiel was crossing to the light switch by the door and incidentally presenting Sam with an unobstructed view of his wings perfectly framing the length of his spine and the muscled curves of his ass. Sam's dick twitched with interest, reminding him of his own naked state. Heat rushed through him, embarrassment as much as arousal, and he fought the urge to pull his legs up to hiding his rapidly returning erection.

The lights went out, shrouding Castiel from view as Sam's eyes struggled to adjust yet again to the change in light levels, and he lowered his eyes to blink at his own hand tangled in the sheets. Just for a moment. Just to readjust, to catch his breath....

"Sam," Castiel murmured from somewhere near the foot of the bed. "Are you feeling discomfort? Do you need some space?"

Who besides Castiel had ever been so concerned with and conscientious of Sam's comfort? But no, Sam didn't need space right now, nor did he particularly want it. He shook his head and took a deep breath before making himself look up again and meet Castiel's eyes. "I'm okay, Cas, promise. Just... a little in awe?"

His eyes flicked inbidden to Castiel's left wing, eyes homing in unerringly to the spot where he had pressed his face into the feathers earlier, able to see the disarray in the way they rested despite the dim lighting. Castiel's eyes followed Sam's, and his face took on an odd look. Sam thought it might have been consternation, except it seemed almost... fond. There was definitely affection in his expression when Castiel turned his attention fully back to Sam, and the heat of returning arousal as his eyes visibly took in the sight of Sam sitting naked on the bed with a half-hard dick.

"I am glad that you find me to be visually pleasing," Castiel murmured. Sam thought maybe there was a very subtle emphasis on the word "me", like he knew it was his wings, the only physically manifested part of his true form, and not just his vessel that Sam found attractive. And then Sam felt his brain short-circuit and his dick make a valiant attempt to jump to full hardness as Castiel spread and lifted his wings much wider and higher, practically putting them on display, and knelt on the end of the bed before crawling back up the length of it. "I enjoy having your eyes on me, Sam... and I would very much enjoy having your hands on me as well."

Sam bit the inside of his cheek as his dick practically throbbed at that invitation, his hands suddenly all but itching to reach out and touch, stroke, bury themselves in those soft and vibrant feathers to see what sorts of noises and reactions he could draw from his angel. He sat up more fully, drawing his legs up until he sat cross-legged on the bed and could reach out a hand to Castiel. It connected with the angel's shoulder, slid up the curve of his neck to cradle his jaw, and drew him closer into a careful almost questioning kiss. That unspoken question was quickly answered as Castiel settled himself in Sam's lap, his own renewed erection rubbing teasingly against Sam's in mimicry of their earlier actions, and then both of Sam's hands were sliding around the human body and up into the angel's wings.

Castiel moaned, low and deep and with an undercurrent of something like deeply tolling bells, and he pressed closer into Sam even as his wings opened further to expose the innermost parts of their structure and the soft, almost downy feathers there to Sam's shaking, trembling hands. His fingers carded through the feathers, combing and smoothing them, drawing gasps and moans and sighs from his angel. Sam lost himself a little in the experience, drinking in every sound that fell from Castiel's lips as his own pressed soft, reverent kisses along the line of Castiel's throat. Clutch, release, comb, stroke, over and over to every sensitive part of those glorious wings he could reach, until he felt Castiel shift and fumble around in the sheets.

A moment later, the sound of Castiel's moan was cut off by a triumphant huff and the unmistakable click of the cap on the lube being flicked open. "Cas--"

"I will not require further preparation," Castiel assured him, and Sam was astonished and a little gratified by how breathlessly wrecked the angel sounded. "We will still require the lubricant to ease the way."

"No, yeah, I... I get that," Sam gasped as one of Castiel's hands closed around his dick, already slick with lube. "I just... I thought you'd...."

"I can use my grace to clean myself within," Castiel reminded Sam, sounding a little more steady now that Sam's hands had been distracted. He twitched his fingers in Castiel's feathers, and was rewarded with another gasp. "No-ot... something that I would try with you, without-- aah! Discussing it beforehand...!"

Which was fair enough, and also incredibly sweet and considerate, and Sam would absolutely be sure to appreciate Castiel's thoughtfulness and efforts on Sam's behalf when he wasn't about to practically come out of his skin from the desire to get inside Castiel as deep as he could go. Castiel's throaty groan edged in bells and rumbling thunder told him the angel was probably just as eager. The speed with which he lifted himself up and canted his hips to position the tip of Sam's dick at his entrance confirmed it. Sam managed to pry one hand away from his angel's wings to drop to his hip and help guide him down as he slowly impaled himself on Sam's erection, going inexorably lower and lower, swallowing Sam up in tight, fluttering heat that tingled with the feel of grace beneath the angel's skin, until their hips met and Castiel made a sound that very nearly sounded like a sob.

"Sam!" he gasped, groaned as the sound of his name in that tone made Sam's hips jerk upwards in an involuntary thrust. "Sam... O'el mao'nao'na'es... o'el ca'aelza... za'aca'arae...!"

The words, halfway to growling and yet still somehow sounding like song, resonated within Sam, rattling at the edges of places inside him that still ached from a time trapped between ice that burned and fire that froze. Castiel's voice thrummed against that space, tugging bits and pieces free, and setting Sam to shaking, his hips jerking upwaards sharply in reaction to the entreaty that felt like a command. Castiel cried out, human hands gripping his shoulders as strong wings flexed and shuddered, urging Sam to do it again, and again.

"Cas... Castiel... na'onacape o'el o'ecara'ima'i...!" Sam managed to gasp out before the effort of speaking became too much and he could only moan and grunt in time with Castiel's whines and keening cries.

Their position didn't allow Sam to move much beyond rolling his hips into shallow thrusts, but Castiel made up for the limitation by bracing himself with his hands on Sam's shoulders and getting his knees under him enough to flex his thighs, lifting up barely an inch or two before quickly dropping back down again as if he couldn't bear to separate from Sam even for the friction and slide that drove their combined pleasure higher and higher. Sam could feel his second orgasm of the night building in his gut like an ever tightening spring, and he pressed his bosy closer to Castiel's, hoping to give the angel's own erection some reciprocal attention--

It broke over him in a wave, Castiel's orgasm accompanied by a shout and a flare of grace that rattled the windows even as his body clamped down hard around Sam. He managed two more short thrusts before falling over the edge into his own orgasm, his mouth pressed over Castiel's neck to muffle his cries. Castiel shuddered in his arms and groaned as Sam's teeth grazed the flesh of his neck just above where he could feel the flutter of a pulse against his lip, the sign of a heartbeat racing from exhertion--

They collapsed to the bed, Sam falling back onto the mattress and pulling an all too eagerly pliant Castiel with him, still buried in the angel's body and feeling his weight pressing him into the bed with every gasping breath. Lips found skin, tasted salt from sweat amid soft kisses as the two of them slowly came back down, calmed, settled, basked in the lingering feelings of pleasure and unity brought about by their tryst. It was the safest and most satiated Sam had felt in a very, very long time, and he could only hope that Castiel had gotten something close to the same pleasure from him.

"O'el ba'oa'eluaha'e ieles," Castiel whispered, close to Sam's ear, fingers stroking through sweat-slicked hair with a tenderness that was almost discordant with the passion bare minutes before. Sam paused. Swallowed.

"I don't know what that means," he confessed, no louder than a whisper himself. He bit his cheek against a whimper of protest as Castiel drew back from him far enough that his softened dick slipped out of that previously welcoming warmth. He swallowed again as he peered up through the fall of his hair, fearing reprisal, but the angel only gave him a soft, sad little smile.

"I know, beloved," he murmured, a wealth of regret in his eyes before he closed them with a sigh and touched his forehead to Sam's in an almost painfully tender gesture. "I will teach you their meaning, and the meanings of all the other words my foolish older brothers neglected or forgot in their stupidity and cruelty. Like ma'oza for 'joy', or sa'aelma'ana for--"

"Home," Sam murmured, daring to resthis hand on Castiel's shoulder and draw the angel back to curl against his side. His eyelids felt so heavy despite his earlier nap. "I know that one.... sa'aelma'ana va o'el mao'nao'na'es...."

"You are the home of my heart, too, Sam Winchester," he heard Castiel murmur softly. Lips brushed across his forehead, preceding the soft, warm wash of Castiel's grace over him, cleaning them both once more. The sheets were tugged out from beneath them and then settled over their legs, followed by Castiel's wings. "Sleep now. I will watch over you."

And Sam believed he would.

- Enochian Translation -

"Sam... o'el mao'nao'na'es... o'el ca'aelza... za'aca'arae...!" = "Sam... my heart... my firmament... move...!"

"Cas... Castiel... na'onacape o'el o'ecara'ima'i...!" = "Cas... Castiel... to you I sing praises...!"

"O'el ba'oa'eluaha'e ieles," = "I love/adore thee/you [above all others],"

#rk writes #suptober24 #supernatural fic #sastiel #sam winchester #castiel #lemonade stand content #reader discretion advised #wing display #angel wings #wing grooming as foreplay #enochian dirty talk #sam winchester has cage trauma

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