This is for ya'll Supernatural fans-- I'm now part of the fandom-- uwu

Also this was written at like one in the morning please don't judge me

Ship: Destiel

AU: None

Plot: Uhhhh none lol

Castiel gazed up at the stars. 

A curtain of dark, velvety black filled his vision, blanketing reality and shining with beauty, dark blue, violet purples, and soft greys mixing together and swirling in the sky, like an impossibly beautiful, ethereal quilt. Stars speckled the darkness, white-gold sparking in the black next to golden-orange stars like burning embers. The moon cast a soft, glowing light down on the clearing where Castiel lay, illuminating his shimmering-blue eyes that seemed to leak grace. 

The stars...

They seemed so, so close... 

He reached his fingers up, stretching towards the sky, his hand curling into a fist as if he had caught a star in his hands. 

But when he opened his hand, sitting on his palm was a small firefly, blinking copper-gold and fiery orange. He looked down at it, the little speck of white-gold in his hand, waving tiny antennae in his direction. 

With a small chuckle, he watched the insect crawl onto one of his fingers and fly off, wings fluttering and body lighting up in intricate patterns. 

He flopped backwards, his wings unfolding from his back and sprawling across the dew-wet, mossy grass, catching on loose pieces of dirt and getting slightly muddy, but the spatters of dark brown didn't matter to Castiel. 

When he kept his wings close in, he felt trapped, closed-off. When he kept them locked away like a caged bird, not letting either his wings or his grace loose, he always got a gnawing, anxious feeling like something was wrong. 

But now he was alone, and he could let them go without worrying about someone seeing the dark, ashen-grey feathers of a fallen angel. 

He stretched, his wings spreading as far as they could go, sighing slightly. He drew them back in, breathing out and slightly enjoying the gracious release of tension. His eyes half-closed and staring absently at the stars dotting his vision, he let himself tug softly at the petals of a ruby-red flower, accidentally pulling the scarlet petals off.

They quietly drifted to the forest floor, spotting the mud-brown and green grass. 

"So, you like clearings, huh?"

Castiel whirled around, his eyes widening. 

Dean Winchester was sitting on a large boulder, leaning on his legs and looking quietly at the night sky. The firefly sat on his head, burying itself in his messy tangles of tawny-blonde hair and lighting up every now and then. 

His wings curling instantly into his back, Cas prayed to god, to heaven, to whoever he believed in now he didn't even know, that Dean had not seen his darkened, shadowed wings. 

Trying to compose himself, he sat up and looked curiously at Dean. "Hello, Dean," he greeted the other with a small frown. "What made you decide to come here?"

Dean shrugged, his mouth twisting into a small smile. "I dunno, man. I guess I just wanted to see where you go in your free time?" He glanced up at the sky, a faintly peaceful look crossing his face. "I didn't expect some kind of forest-y glade, to be honest. I thought all you angels chilled at hot springs or somethin'."

Cas sighed, ruffling his hair. "Don't be so quick to judge," he muttered. "Could you please... leave? I'd like to be alone." He fell silent, his wings itching to be let loose again. 

Dammit, why did they have to be so responsive to this man?

"Maybe, but y'know, it's kinda funny to finally be the one to surprise you." Dean chuckled, standing up and walking next to Cas, sitting down again with his legs crossed. "Since-- you're normally-- you're normally the one to surprise me," he finished awkwardly as Cas stared at him, unamused. 

Rolling his eyes, Castiel nudged him slightly. "And? Anyway, Dean, I'd appreciate it if you left now." 

The other pouted. "Man, I'm feeling left out. Let me in on it, huh?"

Cas picked at a leaf sticking out of the ground, pursing his lips. "There's nothing to 'let you in' on, understand?" He looked at Dean for a long while. 

Dean stared back, a small, amused smile toying on his face. "Look, Cas, I can literally see how much you want to stretch your wings right now. I get it." 

"No, you don't," Cas started. 

"Yes, I do," Dean retorted. "I've been on road trips my entire life, angel. I know what it's like not being able to stretch your legs for a while." He shivered. "And you've been doing this for... how long has it been?"

Cas shook his head. "Four weeks," he mumbled, sighing. "Four weeks since I've been able to fly." He stared down at the forest floor, his wings practically crying out now. Fuck, stop it, wings!

Dean raised an eyebrow, whistling. "Woah. Yeah, I haven't ever been stuck in the car for that long," he acknowledged. "But point is, it must be super hard, huh?"

Falling backwards to lay on the ground again, Cas folded his hands under his head. "Yes," he said quietly. 

"So do your thing," Dean told him, smiling a bit. 

Looking at him as though he were stupid, Cas sat back up, leaning back on his hands. "What do you mean, Dean?" he asked, tilting his head like a puppy.

"Uh..." Dean scratched his head. "Stretch your wings? Let 'em go? Look, hey, if it's some kind of it'll-burn-my-eyes-out thing I'll look away, promise." He closed his eyes and grinned cheekily at the angel. 

Cas's shoulders slumped. "I wish I could," he whispered. "But..."

Dean glanced at him, opening one eye. "But what? I won't judge you if they're small, you don't have to worry 'bout that, Cas. I'm sure they're pretty either--"

"Dean, you absolute, obsolete idiot," Cas burst out, his head flopping into his hands. "I can't let them out because..." He stopped, looking up at Dean with a slightly agonized expression. "I just can't."

Squinting, Dean frowned a bit. "I swear, Cassy, if you say it's because of 'the will of the lord' I'll punch you."

Surprised, Cas nearly laughed. "No, no," he admitted. "No."

The truth is...

I'm scared.

I'm fallen now. 

What if he hates my wings, just as I do?

What'd happen then?

Cas leaned against the boulder, watching the firefly land on the back of his hand. 

Dean sighed, nudging Castiel slightly, a comforting expression on his face. "Hey Cas, I'm sorry if I made you... well, uncomfortable. We all have things..." he swallowed. "Sensitive topics."

"That is not exactly what this is about, Dean," Cas admitted, tracing his hand in the places the small, glowing insect had trotted around. "I'm sorry, I know you're curious, but..." He looked down at the ground. 

Looking curiously at Cas, Dean shook his head. "No, you don't have to be sorry. I shouldn't have poked at ya, should I."

Castiel laughed tiredly. "You do it so much it will not make any difference, you do realize." He glanced at the hunter, smiling softly. 

"Hey, mean," Dean protested. "You're totally being mean to me. Now you have to buy me some pie, m'kay?"

Cas frowned. "I have never agreed to that deal, Dean. You are mean to me quite often, and I never have you buy things for me."

Dean sputtered for several seconds, growing more and more offended, before sighing and laughing a little bit. "You're so weird, Cas," he mumbled. 

"Weird in a 'good way' or a 'bad way', as you so often put it?" Cas asked curiously. 

The angel felt Dean grasp his hand softly, and looked up with some hesitation at Dean. "Dean?"

"A good way," Dean muttered quietly, quickly letting go of Cas's hand to ruffle his dark brown hair. "Trust me, angel."

Cas rubbed his eyes, biting his lip so hard he nearly drew blood. "You know what?" He looked around at the clearing, feeling his wings ache to be stretched. 

"I think I will show my wings, Dean." He looked up at the hunter, his expression strange and pained in a million different ways. "I'll show you my wings, just... don't... talk about it," he finished lamely. 

That sounded stupid.

Do I always sound that stupid?

"Great," Dean chuckled, smiling at Cas. "So go ahead." He nodded at Cas, a comforting look spreading across his eyes. 

Smiling back, Castiel reached for his grace, that swirling blue of melted opal-white and ocean-blue all mixed together, shining and pulsing with a light all of its own. 

Focusing for a second, Cas let his grace spill into his eyes, then drip over his shoulders, his arms, his heart in such a fluid, warm motion it felt like liquid sunshine. He was lit up from the inside, and when he opened his eyes, they glowed with sapphire blue light like lightning. 

His body crackled with a burning blue electricity for a moment, and then his wings spread, long and soft and feathery.

They were a gentle black, like the black of canyons, and quite beautiful-- each feather immaculate and elegant, shaped perfectly right. Laced with silvery iridescence and a dark, deep, rich grey that shimmered slightly, the feathers looked fluffy, kind of like the type you used for quills. Softly glowing specks of white spattered across the wings, as if the entire picture was of a deepest, prettiest melted midnight, with stars shimmering in the darkness. 

And hot damn if they didn't seem like the softest things ever. Downy fluff covered the top of the wing and trailed downward, hiding behind the longer, more elegant flying feathers, and there was a crook right in the middle as if they were made for someone to stroke. 

Most of these were Dean's thoughts, Castiel realized. The hunter was staring, open-mouthed at the long, elegant wings, all sorts of thoughts that made Cas squirm running through his head. 

"...so?" Cas mumbled, folding them in around him, the warmth flooding over him. 

Dean startled, blinking several times. "Uh-- they're-- really pretty, Cas," he coughed. "Yeah."

Castiel laughed a little, examining the feathers with new interest. "Do you... want to touch them?" he asked, somewhat hesitantly. His wings were often quite sensitive, and he didn't usually let people touch them, but Dean seemed to be really, really intent on petting the feathers. 

"Yes!" Dean blurted, then muttered a curse. "Oh, sorry. Uh. Sure." 

Slowly, every so slowly, Dean traced one hand along the down feathers, making Castiel shiver at the ghosting touch. "They really are soft," he murmured, glancing at Cas's face. "Wow."

Cas nodded quietly, not trusting his voice. 

"They're really warm, too," Dean commented, stroking the curve of the angel's wing, the wing stretching slightly on its own. Blue energy shimmered along the bends and dips of the feathers, and Cas nearly yelped at seeing his grace act all by itself. 

"That's-- thank you, Dean, but don't touch them anymore," Cas rushed out, pushing the other away breathlessly. 

Dean blinked, tilting his head and raising an eyebrow. "...is something wrong, Cas?" he questioned. "Does it hurt or something?"

Cas hesitated. "Well, no," he admitted, extending them to their full length and drawing them back in. "Not exactly, but it can be... overwhelming, especially when they've been trapped for so long." He coughed. 

"Oh," Dean said. "OH." He opened and closed his mouth, apparently at a loss for words. 

Feeling slightly embarrassed, Cas adjusted his trench coat. "Well, should we go back to the bunker," he decided, regretfully curling his wings back in, the grace retreating. 

Dean startled, reaching out and grabbing Cas's arm. "No," he mumbled, glancing up at the angel. "Can we... stay here and... talk?" 

Castiel looked at Dean, a ghost of a smile crossing his face. "Yes," he managed. "Talk. I'd like that."

His wings stretched out and wrapped around Dean, pulling the hunter closer to Cas, their fingers tangling and shoulders bumping. 

Overhead, the firefly flew around them in little circles, and they watched the stars grow brighter in the night sky... together.