Work Text:
A Splayed-out Slice of Heaven
When Dean had woken up in the hospital after the car crash, he had watched his lying body being surrounded by doctors and nurses that had been trying and failing to shock him back alive. He hadn’t known what was more shocking: the fact that he’d obviously been witnessing his own death, the fact that it had been a car crash of all things that had been the end of him, or the fact that his dad and Sam were watching from the doorway, both crying, holding on to each other as if Dean’s death was finally putting an end to their disagreements.
In truth, it hadn’t solely been the car crash, but mostly the fact that the Yellow-eyed demon, while possessing his dad, had rummaged and ripped open his internal organs at the cabin. They were headed to the hospital anyway, and Dean wondered if he would have made it without the semi crashing into his precious Baby.
The car had been totaled and sent to Bobby’s salvage yard, lost forever. Sammy had wept at his bedside for days before agreeing with dad that they would stop at nothing to get revenge on that wretched demon. Dean would have preferred for his brother to return to Stanford and forget about all of this, but he had come to understand that the only reason why his brother and his father never got along was because they were in fact too similar. And he had finally managed to feel a sort of distance. He felt relief. Relief that he didn’t need to come between them and be responsible for holding his family together anymore. But the relief was short-lived as he suddenly got snatched from this world and his ability to watch over his loved ones taken away. The reaper had finally stopped feeling lenient, and Dean knew that if he fought it, he’d end up turning into one of these delusional ghosts that they hunted.
He would find another way to come back.
Truthfully, he’d expected hell. So, when he found himself watching fireworks go off on a field, with teen Sammy twirling and laughing under the sparkles, he’d been a little surprised.
At first, he’d eaten mom’s toasts and hugged his younger, happier father before bed, like he had when he was four. He’d taken Sam to the fair and had watched him go round and round on the carousel. He’d found his Baby back in pristine shape and taken a drive on open roads, with Sammy peacefully asleep by his side and Zeppelin blasting on the speakers.
But he also remembered. He remembered the yellow eyes that had overtaken his father. He remembered the heat and smoke of the fire in Sammy’s nursery before running outside with the baby cradled in his own tiny arms. He remembers a life of hunting being beaten into him. He remembered that his family needed him to take their revenge. Even though he now realized it had never been his own.
So, after a time he wasn’t able to count, he figured out he must have been in some kind of Heaven and he needed to get out, in order to return to Earth, however hellish this idea felt.
He kept reliving his fondest memories, and to be honest, he could have lost himself in them. He could have chosen to overlook his need to be needed, his curiosity, his hunter’s instinct to go and find the truth. But it tickled him. He felt like he still had an obligation to his father’s wishes, and also, he wanted to know. He wanted to be absolutely sure that he wasn’t stuck in an illusion that would suddenly backfire on him.
Because good things like that didn’t happen. Not to Dean. And the idea that he must be tricked into enjoying all this made him startle up in sweat even though his sleep wasn’t even real.
So, he escaped. He ran away from the blissful memories and searched.
The first time he managed to get out of his own little corner of this unnatural place, he wandered for a while, looking for an exit that didn’t seem to exist, peeking into other people’s happy memories, and looking for his mom, maybe.
However, he ended up being found by a powerful entity that had sent him straight back to where he came from. The being – that looked human but was definitely something else – was a white man, with black hair and incredible blue eyes, that wore a suit and a trenchcoat, but also spread huge black wings, behind him, to fly Dean back into his childhood bedroom.
Dean daydreamed for a little while about this person being an actual part of his own Heaven. What he’d be like to find out more about him, to get to know him. The young man was fascinated despite – or because of – the being’s no-nonsense attitude and domineering stern orders for Dean to remain in his place. That only spurred his will to disobey again.
Moreover, he quickly figured out that the consequences of his misbehavior remained fairly mild. That was maybe the main thing that had convinced him he was in Heaven: no harm could be inflicted on him. And that incited his wish to find a way out of this endless loop and back amongst the living.
Although, each and every time he escaped again, he eventually did get caught, because there was another being tasked to count and contain the inhabitant of the place into their own recursive memories. That other one was a red-haired woman that radiated a beauty Dean had never encountered on Earth, and the male one with blue eyes called her ‘Anael’. In his downtime, Dean wondered if Anael could also spring those huge wings because he would have gladly sat there and watched them unfold and spread for hours, instead of reliving those damn good but eventually boring memories again.
The more time – as fleeting as that concept seemed to be – passed, the more Dean was able to figuratively spread his own wings. He was getting good at avoiding the different jailors, that called themselves angels, and exploring every nook and cranny of this altogether awful and wonderful place. The first so-called angel, the blue-eyed one that others called ‘Castiel’, seemed to be in charge, and he sometimes delegated Dean’s retrieval to other lower-ranked angels. These others, Dean found, were mostly dicks, which brought the whole ‘angels’ claim into question.
In his humble opinion, none were as ‘angelic’ as Castiel and Anael seemed to be.
If he could overlook the fact that he was supposed to go back to his father’s and brother’s sides, pissing the angels off and being brought back by the skin of his neck into the beautiful Anael’s office – just to be counted and reassigned – had become Dean’s favorite pastime. And an actual reward if Castiel came to handle him himself.
During his wanderings, he also figured out that other people’s Heavens involved way more sex than he’d anticipated would be allowed in a seemingly Christian God’s ParadiseTM…which was actually quite entertaining, to be honest. He wondered regretfully why his own didn’t include more naked women, but his clearer head provided the answer: on Earth, sex had been a desperate need to escape from his day-to-day life, not joyful or peaceful moments he’d like to revisit. That felt like a damn shame, especially now that he realized how connected others seemed to feel through this act he’d always only treated as a gratifying sport.
But no matter how much he closed his eyes and fantasized about the redhead angel behind her desk, or dared to wonder about the blue-eyed bossy warden that rolled his eyes at him like Dean was nothing but an annoying little brat that did deserve a good spanking…hem… No matter how much he daydreamed, those thoughts never materialized into his rather disappointing Heaven.
So, he left once again. He’d pretty much given up on finding anyone he’d known during his life, realizing that the place was probably near infinite, with all the souls trapped inside happy reiterations. Sometimes, he wondered if dad and Sammy were managing to get their revenge on their own, or if he’d find them here themselves one day, but this seemed to only be wishful thinking. And Dean had never been one to spend too much time on impossible ideas while he was alive. So, even in death, he focused on the range of action he could manage, which seemed to only mean raising a little hell in this too clean a place.
This time, Hannah – a lower-ranked angel that sometimes came in the shape of a woman, sometimes a man – found him lurking on the white corridors that separated the souls’ Heavens, and that Dean could only reach if he truly went out of his way to refuse any path that was laid before him. But, today, he wasn’t looking for other people. Today, he admitted to himself that it was the company of the angels that he’d been seeking. Although not any angel. And while Hannah wasn’t one of the worst, they were a little too dry and a stickler for the rules for Dean. They barely talked to him, except to reluctantly relinquish their name, and that Castiel was their direct superior. Dean struggled, with a giggle ready in his throat, not to ask to see the manager.
He was, however, brought the beautiful Anael’s office, which made up for the lack of blue eyes this time. Exceptionally, Hannah left him in front of the door instead of accompanying him inside, because they were called for another emergency.
“Wait here to be called upon, human. And stop wandering away, we have other affairs to attend than catering to your antics.”
Dean almost repeated their sentence back in a mocking voice as he used to do to Sammy, but he was now a mature adult that wouldn’t stoop to this childishness. At least, not to their face.
He stood there alone, waiting, for a while, bored out of his mind and decided it was time for him to find some sources of entertainment anywhere else when he suddenly heard a moan through the office’s door.
That was unexpected.
The angels never showed any signs of emotions besides annoyance, and sometimes, in Anael’s case, the tiniest hint of an amused smile at him. What could be the cause of a moan, one from pleasure or pain, had to be major. And Dean’s curiosity didn’t even pretend not to take the undisputed lead as he promptly opened the door and peered inside.
He stopped short in the doorway, stunned at the view before him.
Anael was sprawled out, face down onto her desk, red curls in a halo around her head, butt-naked, bright orange wings fully visible in this plane and stretched open in the wide immaculate space. Moreover, she was arching back in either insufferable agony or intense sensual delight, while none other than Castiel stood behind her.
Positioned between her legs, the other angel was still fully clothed, but even more disheveled than his usually tousled self. His trenchcoat had been hung on the back of Anael’s chair, for once, with his suit vest. His blue tie was slung back on his shoulder, and the sleeves of his white button down were rolled up, showing off the man’s forearms. Dean would never admit that he’d always liked older men’s forearms. That was not something a boy could say. However, he reasoned that Castiel was not really a man. And Dean was already in Heaven so, no lightening was going to strike him for having those wandering thoughts.
Thus why he even let his eyes roam down the angel’s slacks to find the prominent bulge there as proof that he was not imagining the eroticism of this whole scene.
As they hadn’t noticed him yet, Dean observed how Castiel’s hands kneaded into the root of Anael’s wings, seemingly milking out an oily substance that he then spread dutifully on each of her feathers, like the most divine – and obscene – massage Dean had ever witnessed.
The young man felt a wave of arousal, like none he’d experienced during his brief life, wash over him and swallow him whole.
And it seemed like the two angels were able to sense it because, despite him not having moved a muscle nor dared utter a sound, they both simultaneously turned their head toward him with startled wide eyes.
“Shut the door, Dean!” The deep abyss of Castiel’s animalistic growl rumbled inside his organs as if Dean had been standing beside a huge wall of speakers at an AC/DC concert.
Shaken into action, Dean didn’t think twice: he grabbed the door and slammed it in a fluid motion. It’s only after he’d obeyed that he realized Castiel must have meant for him to shut himself out of the room, instead of inside it with them.
Except, Castiel’s attention was called back to the angel before him, writhing and moaning at his lack of movement. She looked desperate, needy in a way that alighted Dean’s every nerve ending. And Castiel cooed at her reassuringly:
“I am not stopping, Anael. I would never leave you in such a vulnerable state.” He then turned to glare at Dean who went solid like a statue of salt. “Dean, are there humans behind that door?”
“No…um, wait!” He pressed his ear against the wood, discerning voices behind. Humans or angels, he wasn’t sure, but he surmised: “Yeah, there are people there.”
“Then, lock it.” Dean obeyed with a thrill at the idea of being accepted here. “I should have, but this matter was pressing,” Castiel confessed.
“Is she in pain?”
Castiel, for the first time, smiled fondly at him. And Dean shivered from head to toe at the sight. He felt the warmth of it lit him from the inside.
“No, Dean, she is not at the moment. Grooming is a very pleasurable act for angels. Although a lack of it can and will become extremely painful. Anael and I have an arrangement. However, our lack of availability, as of late,” – and at that, Castiel cast him a reproachful look that made Dean bashfully flush red – “because some humans can’t seem to be able to accept an eternity of happiness, has delayed this session for too long.”
“Sorry…” Dean wasn’t sure he was, because this sole moment had been more elating than anything he’d experienced in his regular Heaven. Probably because it was new. Also, because it was the most awesome thing he’d even been privileged to watch.
“Maybe I could,” he ventured, “I could make it up to you two by helping? Tell me. Anything I can do?”
Castiel frowned at him. Although the fact that he didn’t immediately scoff and rebuke him was a good sign in Dean’s book.
“Anael?” the angel inquired.
“Yes! I need…I need more!”
Okay, her broken voice definitely went straight down to Dean’s dick, he couldn’t even dream of denying it. Seeing the usually stern and businesslike woman, that oozed confidence and power like none he’d met before, so helpless before him was exhilarating.
“It seems like Dean would enjoy helping.” Understatement of the millennium. “You must understand, Dean, that this is a very vulnerable position for an angel.”
“Yeah, I get it…”
Castiel eyed him for another moment, before Anael let out a weak whimper, curling her toes and begging: “Please…”
So, Castiel positioned himself to one side of her, pushing the chair behind her desk to stand next to her hip, below the joint of her shoulder blade and wing.
“Come on the other side of Anael’s body. Here, you can reach under her left wing while I take care of her right. Simply watch what I’m doing and reproduce my movements exactly.”
Heh, ‘reproduce’.
“No, yeah, okay. I can do that. Just show me.”
Castiel grabbed the whole arm of Anael’s wing in his large hand, pressing in a slow motion, from the root to the first elbow-like bend, one hand after the other, and spraying his fingers to let them slip between the small feather there.
Anael mewled with glee.
As he copied the motion, Dean felt the tension flow out of the lying angel’s muscles, and her feather unstick from each other as he spread the oil with his gesture. And, damn, did that oil feel like lube at the moment.
Anael groaned: “Yes… This is perfect…”
Dean was painfully hard in his jeans.
“I would guess that being stimulated from both sides would have to be more effective,” Castiel pondered in a droning voice that Dean found soothing nonetheless. “But mobilizing the help of two angels for such a task has always been viewed as a selfish allocation of resources. I don’t think anyone has ever supposed that a human could find any enjoyment in such an unhuman task.”
“Trust me, I’m enjoying myself… I mean, it’s cool. I’d love to help. Any time.”
“Here, look. Like that, you can excite the preen gland into producing more. We need to tend to each of Anael’s feather so that she feels satisfied by this endeavor.”
Dean swallowed hard: “Y-Yeah, sure. Need to be thorough...”
Anael was lost in a constant suggestive moan only halted by little cries, and he was close to losing his mind himself.
“She, uh, she seems to be enjoying herself, huh?”
“It seems like you are a very skilled groomer, Dean. I have seldom seen any angel rendered so dazzled before.”
Although he could barely see anymore, his vision clouded by a more intense desire than he’d ever experienced, Dean was also the most focus and eager to please he’d ever found himself. He tenderly drew the warm and slick substance from her gland, learning fast how that was where she was the most sensitive.
Soon, Anael relaxed in their care, and she purred, stretching her arms and legs like a content cat. And Dean suddenly got scared the moment was going to end.
“So, um, you guys have bodies, like human bodies…”
“Only when we’re working here, in the human’s Heaven. It helps to interact with your kind.” Castiel’s voice was a low hum, as if he’d been subdued into a dreamlike state himself, entranced by the circling motion of his hands on her wings.
“Okay but, then, do you got human needs?” Dean attempted, hardly able to think of anything but his own erection at this time.
“If you mean sleeping, eating, or excreting, no, we do not. Our angelic grace is fully in control of these vessels.”
Dean glanced down the other side of the desk, in order to confirm what he’d noticed earlier, and arched an eyebrow with some skepticism:
“Dude, you got a boner the size of the Empire State Building inside your pants right now. I’d say that looks pretty needy.”
So Castiel took a peek down his own body in turn, surprised at what he found: “Huh. I had not noticed.”
“Do you… You know what to do with that, right? I mean, what humans do.”
Anael yawned in delight and spoke for the first time in a while: “Do you mean intercourse, Dean?”
Dean’s eyes darted toward her, startled, and he gulped again: “Yeah, so, I’m guessing, if Cas’s body here is reacting like that, well, yours is probably reacting as well, right?”
“I…do feel a dampness inside and around my vulva.”
“Christ! Stop being so clinical!” The smirk she flashed at him seemed to show that she knew exactly where he was going with this but, even though she might be willing, she wasn’t trying to be helpful. “Just… I mean…” He turned to Castiel, hoping his intention would be obvious to the other angel as well, except this one looked completely clueless. “Dude, just get in there!”
“Why would I-“
“Because I bet it’s gonna feel fucking awesome, that’s why! Jeez, I can’t believe you guys never thought of at least trying.”
Anael sat up on the desk, although instead of angling herself toward Castiel, she faced Dean: “I think you might have to show him, tiger.”
“I…shit, yeah…” Dean eloquently replied.
Her eyes on him were dark; it seemed obvious that she was aroused despite – or because of – her mellowed state.
“Have you ever…?” Dean inquired.
“Once on twice when I was stationed on Earth,” Anael replied with a faraway smile. “But it’s been centuries.”
“Anael!” Castiel exclaimed, apparently shocked at the revelation.
“Why do you think I’m stuck behind this desk, Cassie?” She had definitely been disinhibited by the grooming they’d provided.
“Working on souls count in Heaven is a-“
“If you say ‘privilege’, I might smack you, sweetheart,” she warned, but then quickly melted as she leaned and laid her back against his clothed chest. “Although working alongside you does have some perks. No one takes care of me like you do.”
Castiel peered at the oil now smearing his white shirt with a discontent eyebrow but kept his mouth shut about it. “And Dean,” the angel offered instead, with a fond smile toward the young man in front of him.
“And now Dean,” Anael agreed, wrapping her arms around Dean’s shoulder and pulling him closer, her newly cleaned orange wings encircling them and the tip grazing his nape.
The Dean in question felt his heart race, not knowing if it was from the proximity, the anticipation, or simply for the acknowledgement. He nosed at Anael’s cheek, questioningly. And she answered by turning her head and capturing his lips in a searing kiss.
That sole point of skin-on-skin contact felt more real than anything he’d experienced since he’d died. And Dean starved for it.
When he felt Anael’s delicate hands tug the hem of his flannel shirt, slipping underneath to caress the flesh of his hips with incredibly soft fingers, he shuddered and whimpered into her mouth, immediately rendered as desperate as she’d been herself earlier.
She rid him of his top layers in one swift motion before splaying out her hands on his torso, making his chest muscles quiver under her touch. “Such a magnificent specimen…” she marveled.
“But that is nothing next to the brightness of his soul, don’t you think, Anael?” She easily nodded with a smile, while Castiel continued: “I have seldom seen a human quite that pure.”
“I’m not…” Dean blushed, knowing people only said nice things to get what they want.
But Castiel reached from behind Anael and cradled his face, forcing him to look up. He was squinting at him, as if he was deciphering his conscious and subconscious mind with just one intense stare. “You don’t see it. But we do. I would have flown you back to your quarters faster than your awareness could have perceived if I had not deemed you trustworthy, Dean.”
“But I’m…no one. And I’m always causing trouble.”
“Right now, you are the most important human to us. And I think you might be causing trouble because Heaven is too small for your soul.”
“Maybe he needs a purpose,” Anael mused, perusing at his bare skin as if the answers were there.
“I wanna be useful,” Dean then provided.
Thus, drawing on the deepest shreds of his courage, he laid his own hands on Anael’s shoulders. He brushed the softness of her flesh down, slowly enough to be stopped by these two forces of nature that were regarding him with attention. Although they did not hint at any form of displeasure. On the contrary, when Dean grabbed a handful of her breasts, massaging them carefully, he felt her body tense again and heard a little moan escape her lips. So, he leaned in and dared to lay his mouth on her.
He nipped and licked at her nipples while she arched back in pleasure, caught in Castiel’s arms, her wings making a fluttering sound. The blue-eyed angel was watching Dean’s every move with unmatched focus, as if he was learning and cataloguing his techniques for later.
On Earth, Dean had had enough experience to know what felt good. He prided himself on pleasuring his female partners, often drawing more excitement in his capacity to make them lose control and bring them over the edge than in his own orgasms. It made him feel good, skilled, and valuable.
Here again, he grinned as he buried his face into Anael’s breasts, feeling his own chest expand with the pride of making such a powerful being, a damn angel, cry out his name.
That convinced him to fall on his knees, parting her legs as she still sat on the desk. She was leaning far back on Castiel’s chest, and the angel was kneading her wings again in a reflexive motion that spoke loudly enough of his own arousal. He wasn’t blinking anymore. His huge blue eyes were fixed on Dean when the young man looked up through his eyelashes. Dean smirked with an earned smugness before darting his tongue and licking into her cunt.
Anael’s startled so violently that Castiel had to maintain her down with force.
“Holy Lord Almighty…”
“Anael! Do not blaspheme.”
“But our father created these bodies, didn’t he? Why would he omit to tell us about this…”
Dean didn’t bother getting into a theological argument, he burrowed into her core, eating her out with renewed vigor when he realized that he was definitely the first. It did not take long before she cried and begged and shook uncontrollably as her orgasm overtook her. The whiteness of the room around them flickered from dark to a blinding light, and the ground trembled under their feet, before everything fell silent once again.
Castiel was still watching with his jawed slacked when Dean got back on his feet and wiped his own mouth on his bare arm.
“See,” the young man offered cockily, “angels aren’t so different from humans…”
The blue-eyed angel shuddered, and his eyes lowered to his own tented slacks. “I don’t…”
Dean smirked again. He tucked one of Anael’s red curls behind her ear. Her head was cradled in the crook of Castiel’s neck behind her, her body lax and satiated. But then, Dean leaned to her ear and murmured: “Do you want more? ‘Cause your pal Cas got a little something for you, if you want it.”
Her tired eyes sprung open. Interest shining in her widened pupils. “More than this?”
“A lot more,” Dean promised.
He ignored his own painful arousal, keener on watching those mythical creatures discovering such a basic human perk. Therefore, he maneuvered Anael so that she’d spin on her place and face Castiel now. She promptly captured the stunned male-angel’s lips to introduce him to debauchery.
Dean watched them for a minute with a beatific smile on his face. They were so fucking beautiful. Actual angels. And he was a part of this.
Without overthinking it, he reached around her to move things along. He unbuttoned Castiel’s pants because his dick was definitely begging for release. As it was, it sprang up and out of the angel’s underwear without needing much more help, and Dean wondered in awe what it would feel like to touch it. But when Castiel moaned lewdly into Anael’s mouth, he stopped wondering and just did it.
Dean thought he’d jerked off often enough in his life to know how he should touch a dick. But someone else’s felt different. The angle was off, the shape bigger, the feeling more exhilarating. However, Castiel’s full-body shudder spurred Dean on, short-circuiting the overactive part of his brain to throw him directly into action.
Plastered against Anael’s back in turn and feeling the tickle of her feathers against his sides, he stroked the angel’s cock with slow, nice, and wide motions, making sure to incite the filthiest groans of pleasure from him. With his other hand, Dean reached around Anael to feel her cunt, which was still soaked, ready and quivering around his adventurous fingers. When the both of them were beyond words, he finally positioned Cas’s tip in front of Anael’s entrance, then with his hand on Castiel’s hip, pulled him in.
That was all the encouragement they needed to completely let go.
Both angels started moving in unison, grinding against each other, moaning in astonishment and ecstasy. Their four wings spread wide on either side, black against orange, each feather seemingly extended, shivering, and glowing with rainbow shimmers. Dean buried his hands in Castiel’s and Anael’s wings, fondling the sensitive appendages until they were both screaming.
An actual storm exploded inside the wide but enclosed office. Thunder and lightning struck around them three. The ground cracked below them. And Dean wondered if he hadn’t finally broken Heaven.
Then, everything fell down. Castiel and Anael collapsed on each other. Both sets of wings dropped to lay limp on the ground, spread out around them. Silence engulfed them three once again; only disrupted by the angels’ panting. Dean wasn’t sure they actually needed to breathe, but maybe their human bodies were weary enough to need it right now.
“This…” Castiel mumbled. “This was, um, novel.”
Dean didn’t hear but he saw Anael chuckle against Castiel’s chest by the shaking of her dainty shoulders.
“Uh, guys, isn’t anybody gonna come and check what happened? ‘Cause it felt like an earthquake in here…”
“Oh, don’t worry,” Anael raised her head to answer. “Nothing can come out, or in, through that door when it’s locked.”
“Cool.”
They both turned to look at him and Dean flushed red once again. Although this time he wasn’t sure why. Maybe because having these bewildering entities’ intense attention was too much for his over-sensitized human mind and body right now.
“Do you want me to… I should leave you guys to it, now that you, well, know how…” Dean fumbled while taking a step back.
“You are selfless…” Anael mused in awe.
And Castiel frowned, exuding something thunderous suddenly.
Dean spun on his heels, ready to flee back to his little corner of Heaven – and promptly rub one off – when Castiel appeared at once between him and the door.
The angel squinted at him, looking through the human’s exterior shell, right into Dean’s soul and innermost thoughts. Which was terrifying. Then Castiel extended two fingers to Dean’s forehead and the young man blanked out.
Without moving or knowing how, Dean felt a wave of sexual bliss building from deep inside his belly and expending into every cell of his being, overtaking his whole existence before crashing over him in an explosive, mind-blowing, life-shattering orgasm.
“Whaa-“ he stuttered, his knees buckling under his own dead weight.
But he was caught into the fluffiest blanket of feathers in all the worlds. Anael’s arms came to wrap around his torso, one of her hands splaying onto his already spent dick. Immediately, Dean felt it grow and harden once again, and he moaned in a wordless plea. Although they could read into him better than he could himself. And her hands felt warm in an all-encompassing glorious way that gave his expending pleasure a cozy, safe, and tender feeling. It felt like love. Pure and simple love. And Dean peaked again, coiled inside it. It lasted, longer and more acute, than any before.
He passed out in a blithe cocoon of comfort.
When he came to in his childhood bed, he distractedly felt the remnant of Castiel’s lips on his forehead, and the deep, soothing voice of the angel that reverberated against his skin: “Thank you, Dean.”
For a long while, Dean didn’t feel the need to escape from his corner of Heaven again. He took a humble pleasure in eating his mother’s toasts. He laid lazily on a couch, with a stupid smile plastered on his face, while a toddler Sam watched cartoons on an old motel television. He helped his dad tinker Baby’s engine, laughing with him about something Bobby grumbled about behind them. Those were all old and worn-out memories, but they felt comforting after having had his whole world rocked on its hinges.
Until one day, Castiel appeared by the side of the road. Dean had been cruising alone on Baby with the windows down and the music blaring when he slammed on the brakes.
“Hey, man! Whatcha doing here?”
No angel had ever entered his happy memories before. And Castiel felt off.
“Hello, Dean.”
The angel looked down then away, as if staring into Dean’s eyes hadn’t been his favorite pastime until now. And Dean belatedly realized he seemed shy. Which was odd. And the angel had a thin film of sweat over his furrowed brow. Which was downright concerning.
“Do you… Do you need anything, buddy?”
“Um… I… I’m in need of a grooming, and, um… I was wondering if maybe you could assist Anael this time…”
“Oh, fuck yeah!”
This time, Dean drew on his fleeting knowledge of the male prostate so he could stimulate Cas with oil-coated fingers as Anael preened his wings. It was the most satisfying feeling to have the strict and usually impassive angel writhing, begging, and humping the desk under his touch.
Then, Anael asked to be taught how to provide the angel with oral sex, and if Dean had never performed a blowjob during his short life, he’d been on the receiving end enough and – admittedly – had daydreamed about doing it enough that he could guide her, and even discover the feeling with her. He swallowed the angel’s cum, with the thick cock heavy on his tongue, and Dean’s whole perception of pleasure was tipped upside down once again.
He and Anael wrung the poor Castiel dry again and again, for their own enjoyment even more than his, before she flew Dean back home.
However, the next time, they both came to fetch him. And Dean realized neither of them needed a wing clean-up. No, they had concerted each other and decided that the human could benefit from a grooming himself.
“But I don’t have w-“
They manhandled him until he was spread out on Anael’s desk. And after having every single inch of his body fondled and kissed and licked, Dean found himself with Anael over him, riding his dick with abandon, while Cas behind her buried his angel dick inside Dean’s magically prepared hole and fucked every single thought into oblivion.
Dean sprayed himself and Anael’s whole chest with so much cum that they used their grace to fill his balls up again just to see him lose his shit one more time.
Then, they cradled him into their four tangled wings, cuddling him into a trance-like state of ecstasy that wouldn’t end. Castiel’s fingers ran through his hair, massaging his scalp and untangling his sweat-covered strands, as he usually did with Anael’s feathers. All the while she whispered praises in the young man’s ears to try and convey how grateful both angels were to have found and welcomed him into their immortal lives.
Needless to say, the two angel’s sets of wings had never looked so well groomed and glowing before, making them the envy of all of the unsuspecting Heaven’s host. And Dean never looked back on the wretched life he’d left on Earth, not caring anymore about revenge or how other people chose to live their lives.
It was a whole other issue to make those stupid two angels understand that if he ever tried to escape from then on, it was solely in order to receive the damn spanking he’d been begging for.
The End