Dean always loved when what could only be called his "line of work," or indeed, his "vocation" involved him playing the role of a priest, for the puerile, damned irony of it. If the families he worked with only knew that dear, innocent Father Michael was an alcohol guzzling, pool hustling sex-fiend, their poor little religious hearts would have, in all likelihood, stopped beating. This instance was no exception to that rule; a small smirk crossed Dean's face as he fixed the starched white collar around his neck and ran a hand through his dirty locks, trying to tame them. He shot a glance over at Cas, who stood next to him in the same outfit - black slacks and shirt, white collar around his scruffy neck, blue eyes calm. He actually did look the part of a priest, and Dean nodded approvingly before pressing the doorbell and waiting for the family to answer.

"You okay?"

"I'm fine Dean, although I still do not understand why we have to dress like this. Or why my title is now Father Gabriel."

"All part of the job." Dean reasoned, turning his attention back to the door as it opened. The hunter's expression smoothly changed to a warm smile, hands clasped together.

"Hello, my name is Father Michael, and this is Father Gabriel. We came to offer our condolences and perhaps - if it's not too much trouble, for I understand that you are mourning - ask a few questions. We're only here to help."

The Hendrickson's were like every other family Dean had questioned - all hysterics and lamentation, convinced they were going insane. Dean couldn't blame them of course; most normal families weren't used to seeing their brother or son suddenly shed his skin and leave a bloody mess in their living room. Shape shifters were nasty things, but were relatively easy to deal with. In fact, the main issue pressing on Dean's mind right now was Cas. He seemed...off. Dean snagged another mini quiche from the plate offered to him and looked furtively at the angel. He was talking to the red eyed mother, offering copious condolences and asking if he could help, but whenever the woman dabbed at her eyes, he seemed to wince. The back of his black shirt seemed to shift ever so slightly with the seemingly continuous tensing of his body. He looked... nervous? Perhaps nervous wasn't the right word. Dean shoved the entire quiche in his mouth and chewed - garnering a strange look from the hawkish old woman seated beside him - and kept his eyes glued on Cas. The angel bit his lip and quietly excused himself, giving the mother a comforting squeeze on the shoulder before retreating to the back of the house, eyes clenching shut briefly.

Something was definitely up.

"Excuse me," Dean murmured, removing himself from the patterned couch. He slunk to the back of the house, the sobs of the family barely audible over the smothering silence of the cool back corridor. Dean paused, listening for the angel. It was too quiet; the kind of quiet when a get a soft buzzing is audible from listening hard enough. After shaking his head, Dean turned to jiggle the bathroom doorknob. It was locked.

"Cas?"

There was a soft groan before Cas answered, doing nothing to quell Dean's curiosity. He shook the doorknob, trying to get in.

"Cas, let me in."

There was a long moment of silence, and then a soft click as the door was unlocked. Dean wasted no time in opening the door, but the sight of Castiel nearly stopped him in his tracks.

"Close the door, Dean." Cas nearly groaned, hunched over the sink and gripping the edge tightly. Dean could barely move as he fumbled with the door behind him, eyes open wide. Castiel's shirt was a pile of fabric in the corner of the room, and he was drenched in sweat. His eyes were huge, and he was barely breathing, but all of these things were secondary to the main-Castiel's wings-no longer shadows-were unfurled hugely behind him, their tops scraping the ceiling.

"Cas, what the Hell...?" Dean's mouth hung open like a simpleton's. Castiel's wings pulled around him slightly, as though an involuntary reaction to his embarrassment.

"I'm sorry Dean. My wings are... I molted recently and the new feathers are growing in and they are a bit-" He groaned softly again, unable to keep his wings from trembling as they spread again, taking up most of the bathroom.

"Sensitive."

Dean swallowed back a thousand different innuendos and took a step forward, unsure of what exactly he could do to assist. Castiel's blue gaze was locked onto Dean, almost senselessly, even as Dean extended a hand to touch the feathery monstrosities that filled the room. As his hand grew closer and closer, they flared further and further, beating a little. Cas ground his teeth.

"I'd advise against that." Castiel said, a little panicked.

Dean paused, looking the angel over. He was obviously tense, unable to control his wings, and well...Cas has advised Dean against a shitload of things. Didn't mean he'd start listening now. With a small, childish smirk, Dean reached out and ran a his index finger down the smooth, sleek feathers.

The result was instantaneous. Cas moaned low and shook, wings flying out almost violently, the right one knocking into Dean's shoulder, hard. It was as though the air in the room had been charged; pulsating with an energy that Dean did not entirely recognise. Dean was thrown against the door with a terrific bang, grunting and praying no one in the front of the house had heard.

"Shit Cas," he cried, panting. "What was that?"

Cas bit his lip, trying hard to pull himself together, but Dean noticed how flushed the angel looked, pale skin dyed a faint pink. He was breathing heavily too, his shoulders shuddering with the effort. Dean raised an eyebrow, half in curiosity and half in amusement.

"Dude. Did you just get a wing boner?"

"Not at all," Cas huffed indignantly. His wings flapped wildly as he tried to reign them back in, giving him away. Dean smirked and pushed himself off the doorjamb, strolling closer to the angel again.

"Shame on you Father Gabriel, what kind of self-respecting servant of the Lord gets all aroused by a simple brush of someone's hand?" Dean asked softly, leaning against the sink next to the angel. Castiel's head snapped up, his eyes wide and lips parted slightly. Dean would be damned if that wasn't an invitation.

"Wonder what would happen if I did that again, huh Father?" Dean leaned in close to Cas, heart thudding loudly against his chest as he whispered against the angel's ear. Dean was close enough to feel the shudder of Cas' body - whether voluntary or not, he didn't know - and he reached a hand out again, hovering over the angel's wings.

"What would happen if I did this?" Dean gripped the angel's wing and gave the feathers a tug, pulling down slow and hard, fingers rubbing the soft ends. Cas' eyes shut tight again as he let out an embarrassingly audible moan, knees buckling as his wings flared out to try and steady himself.

"Dean, the family-"

"Fuck them, they'll be fine without us for a bit." Dean spat, letting go of the angel's wing and walking around him. He studied the angel's back; everything from the nape of his neck to the joints of his wings, the faint outline of his spine down, down to the modest curve of his ass. Dean reached forward and rubbed the joint of Castiel's wing between his thumb and forefinger slowly. Cas moaned again, shaking and pushing back against Dean. Chuckling darkly, Dean pressed a kiss to the nape of the angel's neck, spreading his own legs. His pants were a bit too tight for a servant of the Lord.

"Dean..." Cas groaned, wings prostrate up against Dean, the skin under Dean's finger's pulsing hotly. Dean ground his hips against Cas' ass, breathing against his neck. His half hard cock pressed against the back of Cas' thigh, and he knew the angel felt it.

Dean let go of the angel's wing and turned him roughly around, shoving him against the counter of the sink. He closed the space between them and kissed Castiel's lips, with almost painful force. The movement was smooth, fast; practised, like they'd done it a thousand times before, which they had. Dean groaned, gripping the angel's hair at the base of his neck and tugging hard, a satisfied smirk unfurling on his lips up as the angel whimpered. Taking advantage of the angel's vulnerability, he slid his tongue past Castiel's lips and teeth, into his hot mouth. He tasted like... Toothpaste and mini pizzas. Dean wasn't about to get picky, and to him, the mix tasted pretty damn good right now. He caught the angel's bottom lip in his teeth, tugging down and sucking teasingly before pulling away and running his eyes over the angel. His blue eyes were dilated, skin flushed and lips swollen from kissing and biting. Dean wasted no time, yanking the angel's head back further and licking a long line down the pulse of his scruffy neck - from jaw to collar bone. He kissed gently, sucking softly.

"Want me to suck you Cas? Want me to lick you and suck you - or how about I just fuck you right here? Bend you over and just fuck your nice ass, pulling those fucking hot wings of yours?" Dean looked up, letting his hands trail down Cas' back, nails scraping lightly at the joints of his wings. Cas' hips bucked up eagerly, the angel's own erection pressing against Dean's crotch and Jesus fuck that friction felt good.

"D-Dean, just do something now." Castiel's voice was small but demanding.

Dean chuckled, bringing a hand back around to Cas' chest and letting his fingers trail down the slender body, bumping over smooth muscle of his chest and stomach. Resting his head on Cas' shoulder, Dean traced the bump of narrow hip bone pressing against his stomach and felt Cas' hips press forward again, more insistently.

"Down boy," Dean murmured against his neck, tugging Cas' priest pants down till they pooled around his ankles. He dragged his hand down the bulge of Cas' cock, hot through his boxers - the low hiss that passed the angel's lips was downright sinful. Dean rubbed more, pressing his palm against the line of his shaft. Hot and hard against his calloused skin, he just wanted to get those boxers out of the way - so he did. Yanking at the waistband, Dean got rid of the offending material and wasted no time in wrapping his hand around the base of Cas' cock.

"God Dean-"

"No need to say my name twice," Dean growled, biting down against Cas' neck, scissoring the thin skin with his teeth as he started to jack Cas off, fingers tugging with a damn good pressure that had the angel whimpering. Dean felt Cas' hips buck up against his palm, letting Dean know it felt good. He let go for a split second to spit on his palm, lubbing Cas up so he could move faster, letting his thumb slide over his slit. Dean knew what felt good, what spots made the angel squirm and whimper, which ones made him white knuckle whatever he was holding, and which ones made his eyes flutter shut. He took a second to trace his index finger up the vein on the underside of his cock, pressing the tip under the head of Cas' cock, soft nerves hot to the touch. Cas had to bite down on his bottom lip to keep from moaning, hips starting to move more desperately. The site was doing things to Dean's own dick, and if he didn't do something soon, the wonderful family downstairs was going to be giving him some horrified looks when he returned downstairs with white stains on the front of his pants.

"Turn around." Dean commanded, letting go of Cas' flushed cock to help him do just that, spinning the angel around and pressing down on his shoulder blades between his wings to bend him over. Cas gripped the counter, locking his arms so his head didn't slam into the granite countertop, breathing hard. Dean grabbed a fistful of thick black hair in one hand, yanking the angel's head up, the other hand yanking his own pants and boxers down. Cock hard and flushed, he wrapped a hand around himself to press against Cas' opening, ring of muscles hot and welcoming without even penetrating him yet. Tightening his grip in Cas' hair, he exhaled low and nudged his hips forward slightly. Cas turned his head to the side, moaning low as Dean simply rubbed the outer ring of muscles with his cock.

"Such a little slut for my dick," Dean commented, grabbing the base of one of the angel's wings to stabilize himself better. The result was instantaneous, wings growing taunt as they shot out again, energy pulsing around Dean and Cas in powerful waves. Dean couldn't wait any longer and with a low hiss he pushed his hips forward, forward into the deliciously welcoming heat that was Castiel. Tight, hot muscles pulling him in, enveloping him, burning hot and so fucking tight. Dean slides a little deeper, feels Cas lock down around him like a fucking vice, and Dean has to bite back a groan.

"Dean, do it already." Cas hisses, skin flushed and wings stretching back, splaying out around Dean's hips. Dean's lips quirk up, and he pushes deeper in, inch by inch till he's balls deep in Cas. The throbbing heat around his dick was almost overwhelming, and the noises coming from Cas underneath him were so fuckinghot. Pulling his hips back, cock dragging out almost the edge, teasing at the rim, Dean thrusts - hands tightening in Cas' hair and around his wing to hold him still as Dean's head lolls back. If there was one thing the Winchester was good at besides hunting, it was this. Moving his hips in a slow circle was doing incredible things to both of them - Dean's cock pressing against the electrifying nerves that were Cas' prostate, and Cas bringing a hand off the counter to bite down on his knuckle hard to silence himself.

"Such a slut," Dean commented again as he jerked his hips back again, slammng forward quickly. Dean let his eyes wander over Cas' back lazily, thinking briefly that nothing was more dirty than the sight of Castiel - an angel of the Lord - bent over in front of him willingly, begging for more. Speeding up his bucking hips, Dean grabbed another fistful of Cas' thick black hair and yanked his head to the side, exposing the long line of the angel's throat and that sharp jawline. The wet sound of Dean's cock sliding and dragging in and out of Cas' tight ass simply made him want to move faster.

"Yes, Dean yes," Cas whimpered in that Goddamn hoarse voice of his, shoving his hips back to meet each of Dean's hard thrusts, back arching to make the angle better. The hand that the angel had used mere seconds ago to cut off his eager moans was now gripping at his neglected cock, hanging hard and heavy between his spread legs. Dean let go of the angel's hair to grip both of his wings, fingers curling into the joints on his back and fucked him mercilessly - putting everything he had into each furious thrust and drag of his hips. Cas' eyes shut tight as he moaned again, pumping his own length in time with Dean's thrusts. Dean was gasping now, sweat dripping down his neck as he got close - balls tightening and abs clenching in anticipation.

"Come on Cas, c'mon," Dean growled, back curling over the angel's as his thrusts became shorter and more desperate, a slow heat building in the pit of his stomach. Cas couldn't even give him a dignified answer, his normally monotone voice long gone - all Dean got from him were harsh, rough moans and whimpers as Cas' hand sped up, twisting around his own cock and dragging on the swollen skin. The vision at the corners of Dean's eyes were hazy with black, and his jaw locked in a tight hiss as his teeth ground together.

"Shit Cas, I'm gonna-" Dean lost the rest of that warning sentence, eyes shutting tight as he exploded deep in Cas, colors blooming behind his eye lids as waves of pleasure rolled up his spine to the base of his neck. Thick, hot spurts shot into Cas, filling him up with each twitch of Dean's cock. Cas braced both hands on the counter again and bit on his bottom lip hard, grunting something that damn near sounded like Dean's name, but it didn't matter at this point - Cas lost it, coating his own hand with thick white come, smearing all over his palm and fingers as he clamped around Dean as a result, milking the hunter even more. Black wings flapping hard on either side of him, Dean had to dig his nails into them to stay standing as they threatened to knock him over. Everything was exploding around him in an overwhelming mix of heat and pleasure, throbbing and tightening and flexing as muscles worked to process all of it. Dean wasn't even sure if he was breathing - everything seemed to freeze in the powerful, overwhelming pleasurable heat coarsing through his nerves as he slowly came down. Slowly he felt his fingers unclench and slowly, he felt the vice grip around his cock start to wane. Dean relaxed the jaw he didn't know he had been clenching and pulled out - hissing as a sharp aftershock ran up to the base of his neck.

Cas' knees buckled, threatening to bring the angel to the ground, and Dean wrapped an arm around his waist - heaving his limp frame back up. The small smile that tugged at the corners of the angel's mouth made Dean feel... Good. He felt good when he straightened the sex-exhausted angel up and ran an inspective eye over him too. The wings that were minutes ago beating and flaring with an unmatched energy were now folded against the angel's back, tucked away and under control.

"You okay Cas?"

Blue eyes lit up as Cas nodded, making a smile spread on Dean's face too. He couldn't help himself.

"I'm okay Dean. And my wings are good too." Cas added sheepishly as the wings ruffled in the mirror behind him.

"You wanna go back downstairs?"

Cas gave Dean a look, clearly reading that he would if he had to.

"You wanna just go back to the car and call it a day?"

Another smile. Dean chuckled softly and reached out, brushing some of the sweaty hair off Cas' forehead gently.

"Okay, let's go."

Gathering the clothes strewed about the room and putting their pants and boxers back on (despite Cas' confusion as to why they had to), the angel zapped them back to the car and they drove off, simply content with their silence and the radio playing softly.

...

And to this day, the Hendrickson's still don't know where Father Michael and Father Gabriel went.