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English
Series:
Part 2 of Talking Dirty
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Published:
2014-07-13
Completed:
2014-09-16
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4,828
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3/3
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"I don't give a flying fuck!"

Summary:

Gabriel didn't think that his off hand comment would have lead to this. Otherwise he would have said it sooner. Cas, please stop taking the Trickster's advice on sex. Please. Just. Stop.

Notes:

Instead of reviewing my next several chapters of God's Red Pen, you get fluffy porn and puns. And since it's also going on tumblr, I only regret that I can not give a flying fuck. If a certain someone finds it, take refuge in the fact that I wrote Cas' wings being bigger than Gabriel's. Please don't sue. Enjoy.

Update: I'm stuck on the next chapter, its suppose to be fluffy and porny and instead I'm making myself cry. Now accepting prompts in my tumblr inbox, dantes-fallen-angel.

Chapter 1: Sam doesn't give a flying fuck

Chapter Text

“Hey Cas.”

 

“Yeah, we ganked the shifter. Sam and I are just stopping to get something to eat and a room. We should make it back early tomorrow morning. Want me to pick you up anything on our way back?”

 

“Oh, well, with an offer like that, I just drive through the night. Keep the sheets warm for me.”

 

“Me too.”

 

“Bye, Cas.”

 

Dean flipped his phone shut and stuck it back in his jacket pocket. Cas was slowly starting to experiment with more human things like eating and expanding his wardrobe. Dean’s favorite experiment by far was the sex, but getting his angel to eat cherry pie was up there as well. Sex and pie. Mmmm, maybe he could talk Cas into combining them.

 

“Please don’t schedule a booty call in front of me right before we eat. It’s bad enough I have to live with the two of you,” Sam begged at his brother.

 

“Aw, Sammy, jealousy isn’t a good look on you. Should I scout out a girl for you? Maybe one of the waitresses likes sasquatches with long hair. You could keep her warm at night with all that fur.”

 

“Jerk.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

The brothers had made it halfway across the restaurant’s parking lot before the sound of wings alerted them to the arrival of an angel. Two hunters whirled around with angel blades in hand, raised to use them.

 

“Damn it Cas! I could have stabbed you!”

 

“Hello Dean. I arrived far back enough to be out of arms reach.”

 

“Cas, what are you doing here?”

 

“Sam. I needed to see your brother.”

 

Sam glared at his brother, arms crossing in front of his body. He just knew that whatever further conversation or actions took place; he would be the one attempting to find brain bleach. Dean would be the one to kill the monster, save the girl and then go off and have enthusiastic sex with his angel. Loud, enthusiastic sex. In the room next to Sam’s.

 

He was tired of headboards banging on the already thin walls of the crappy hotel room de jour. The looks ‘professionals’ gave before meeting their own clientele in the same motel. The security deposit and extra tips for the maids was eating a hole in their already tight budget. Every time, Dean would apologize and promise it wouldn’t happen again. And then Cas would show up and bore holes through Dean, like he could see all the way to his soul. Dean would stare back and the couple would excuse themselves to talk about “business.” And the cycle would start all over again.

 

Forget the brain bleach; he was just going to use his gun. He was still deciding who to use it on when Cas reached a hand up towards Dean’s forehead.

 

“Whoah, Cas, no zapping. The motel room is right around the corner if you missed me that much.”

 

“I wasn’t going to ‘zap’ you anywhere, Dean. I wanted to change your acuity of certain wavelengths of intent and subatomic particles.”

 

“What?”

 

“I wanted to show you my wings. There was also an experiment I wanted to attempt if you could see them.”

 

“Uh, Cas,” Sam interjected, “Isn’t that dangerous for a human’s eyesight and continued living?”

 

“In most cases, yes. However, humans who are deeply sensitive to the supernatural may be able to perceive glimpses of an angel’s form while on the earthly plane without burning out their eyes. You should have no problem seeing my wings when I manifest them forth, Sam, as your time as Lucifer’s vessel would have altered your mental perception. I hope that the sexual and metaphysical connection I share with your brother will allow him to see my wings.”

 

“Cool. Just another reason to have more sex. I remember your wings being pretty badass as just shadows, but seeing the real things would be awesome Cas. You could heal my eyes though if it didn’t work though, right?”

 

“Yes, Dean. But there is no reason to think it won’t with the copious amount of copulating we have participated in and my mark of grace inside you.”

 

“Kinky.”

 

Sam had reached a decision. He was going to shoot himself. If he shot his sex obsessed, masochistic brother, Cas would just bring him back from the dead. And if he shot Cas, Dean would kick his ass and then coo over the bullet impervious angel. Even the chance of seeing Lucifer again was looking more tempting than observing another weird step in the courtship of a hunter and an angel in the parking lot of a Biggerson’s restaurant.

 

Cas reached up and tapped at Dean’s forehead. Nothing happened. Both Winchester’s blinked.

 

“Uh, Cas, I don’t think it worked. I mean, I still got my eyeballs, but I can’t see your wings. Can you Sam?”

 

Sam was tempted to mess with his brother and say ‘yes’. But he really wanted to see an angel’s wings from both an academic and personal standpoint.

 

“Nope, no wings.”

 

“I have not released my control of my true form in this vessel. I must do it slowly and carefully or the results could be disasterous.”

 

“How disasterous are we talking about here Cas? Is it just a few broken windows like when I first heard your voice or what?”

 

“The complete incineration of every living thing within a ten mile radius if we’re lucky. Fifty miles if we’re not. Now hush, I have to concentrate.”

 

Sam was sure Dean had never been that silent before in his life or afterlife. He was also nauseatingly sure that the expression on Dean’s face was one of lust. Trust Dean to be turned on by a devastating walking, talking weapon with a big boom.

WHHHOOOOOOOOOOOOOSSSSSSSSSSHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!

 

And the Lord said let there be light, thought Sam as he blinked, scorching mini suns lighting up the inside his skull. Squeezing them shut, tears fell, the after image of a supernova burned into his eyelids.

 

Slowly opening them, he cautiously looked around, deliberately not looking at where Cas had last stood. Images were blurry, but slowly being brought back into focus. Everything was cast in an illuminating light.

 

He could also hear startled yells from the direction of the restaurant and car alarms going off. There really shouldn’t be that many people with a connection to the supernatural in some podunk Biggerson’s was Sam’s next dazed thought.

 

Dean

 

Oh shit, Dean!

 

He spun around to see his brother staring gob smacked at the glowing, nuclear reactor of an angel.

 

“Awesome.”

 

The reverently whispered word barely made it to Sam’s ear. For once, Dean was actually using its original meaning.

 

Cas was pretty awe inspiring.

 

Even with an angelic scrambled brain, Sam could only describe Cas’ wings as light. Light and reminiscences.

 

There was the fierce burning of the Morningstar at midday and the shy, hidden light of the moon behind clouds.

 

The aura borealis at midnight and the flashing luminescence of fireflies.

 

Sparks of lighters.

 

Flaming pyres.

 

The brilliant colors of Fourth of July fireworks.

 

All these and more in the outline of wings that never existed on any bird.

 

“Do you like them Dean?”

 

Dean had to clear his throat several times before he could answer.

 

“Yeah, Cas, I like them. Their….beautifulgorgeousotherwordlywicked…large.”

 

Sam was inclined to face palm in embarrassment for Dean. Your angelic boyfriend goes to a lot of trouble to show off his most vulnerable parts of himself and you call him ‘fat’. Maybe John Winchester just picked him up somewhere and adopted him as a kind of a pet for Dean to look after. He could not be related to this emotional dense man.

 

“I mean, yeah, Cas, their badass. But I already knew they would be. Their part of this rebel angel with a cause who helped stopped the Apocalypse and rose from the dead and fought through all hell to find me. So nice wings, angel.”

 

Okay, maybe, just maybe his brother could acknowledge those things called feelings in actual words.

 

“Besides, you know what they say about angels with big wings.”

 

Or not.

 

“No, Dean, I wasn’t aware enough humans had seen an angel’s wings and survived to compare the sizes.”

 

Great, now Dean was going to teach Cas about size jokes. Time for evasive maneuvers.

 

“Uh, Cas, I don’t think you should hang around here. I think more than just Dean and I can see at least something,” Sam stated, arm swinging around to indicate all the gaping faces pressed to the windows of the restaurant. Several cell phones where out and filming. Hopefully Cas’ wings would just show up as a giant flare or be considered a hoax.

 

“And didn’t you say you had an experiment to attempt if Dean could see them? You might want to get started on that. You know, somewhere that’s not here.”

 

Cas tilted his head and gave his little smile/not smile.

 

“Thank you Sam for reminding me. Dean, that earlier offer, I would like to amend it and begin now.”

 

“Okaaayyy…but Cas, uh, that offer had a lot less clothing and more privacy so maybe we should relocate to the rooAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!”

 

Sam blinked. Nope, nope, nope. His older brother was not naked and not flying with his not naked angel partner out of the parking lot as several cop cars and a news van pulled in.

 

Imaginary screams echoed from somewhere overhead.

 

Just a bird or a loud jet. I didn’t see a thing. Lalalala.

 

Sam’s own screech could have shattered glass when his not naked brother’s boxer shorts landed on his head and his not naked angel partner’s trench coat landed on the roof of the Impala.

 

“WHAT THE FLYING FUCK WAS THAT?!”

Chapter 2: Castiel gives a flying fuck

Summary:

Dean conquers his fear of heights by setting a new standard for the Mile High Club.

Chapter Text

Dean Winchester had faced down many adversaries over the years, notably the Devil and Azazel. There was always a silver bullet, machete, or ritual that could kill, maim, or incapacitate the fuglies. Which is why he hated flying.

 

There was no magic spell or weapon that could adjust for human error, technical malfunctions, or just plain shitty luck.

 

He also had to trust his mode of transportation to some stranger with a god complex and the control of a several ton, high velocity vehicle. He had accidently seen the movie Flight. It was one of the very few things that really woke him up nowadays in a cold sweat.

 

No, if Dean Winchester needed to get somewhere fast, it would be his hands at the wheel of his baby that he knew and rebuilt from the undercarriage to the tape deck.

 

Now all he had to do was rationally and calmly explain this to Cas.

 

“AAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!

 

“PUT ME THE HELL DOWN! OH GOD I’M GONNA DIE!AGAIN!LAND, LAND, LAND THE FUCK NOW!WHAT THE HELL CASTIEL!”

 

Or not so calmly as the situation demanded it.

 

“Dean! Stop struggling! I need to concentrate on calculating the balance with a passenger or our flight will not end well.”

 

Dean forced himself to lock his limbs, muscles and nerves trembling with the effort. Screwing up his eyes tightly, he leaned his head into the crook of Cas’ neck. Breathing deeply, he focused his senses on Cas instead of his current location.

 

Huh.  

 

He could feel a lot more skin than normal outside of bedroom activities.

 

“Cas, why are you naked? Why am I naked? Why are we both naked and flying!” Dean thought he did an excellent job at keeping his voice below air raid siren levels.

 

“I thought it would be easier to remove our clothing closer to the ground than try it in midflight.”

 

“Okay, and why did you have to remove our clothing and fly at all?”

 

“To begin the next step of the experiment.”

 

“Yeah, you still haven’t said what that experiment is Cas.”

 

“To fuck you Dean, until you scream my name to the heavens.”

 

Dean’s lungs gave up their hyperventilating and stopped working all together. Along with most higher brain functions.

 

When first attempting more than hand or blow jobs, Cas had been worried that with his inhuman strength that he would inadvertently harm Dean. Instead of believing Dean’s reassurances and escaping to the nearest horizontal surface, Cas asked Sam his opinion. His brother had bitched faced at him and disappeared. Later, he caught Samantha explaining with a sick glee terms like ‘making love’, ‘catcher’, and ‘safe word’. Cas had refused to do anything rougher since then.

 

So of course, Cas decided now to fuck him, being several miles above safe, stable, solid ground.

 

It took him several tries to get the words out, but he finally managed. “Sweetheart, if you put us down carefully, I’ll scream your name so loud they’ll be able to hear it in Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory.”

 

Along with ‘Oh, thank God for land’.  

 

“No.”

 

“What do you mean ‘no’?”

 

“No, I want you like this.”

 

“The first time I touched you, I flew your soul out of hell, back into existence cradled in my grace. I could feel every part of you. Your soul was so bright, but twisted in terror and confusion. I want to see it spark and writhe now when you achieve release, with my wings around you. I want to see it burn with pleasure.”

 

“I want to erase the stigma of Hell and replace it with this memory. I want to leave my mark upon your body because you let me, not because circumstances demanded it.”

 

“I want to have you as no other will ever have you. Only I can give you this. Please, Dean. Please let me have you like this.”

 

Dumbly, Dean drew back to stare at Cas. Those heated, blue eyes pleaded with him to give consent. He knew that if he refused, Cas would accept his decision and never bring it up again. He also knew that he would never see Cas this wild and free again. This was as close as Cas could get to him in his natural form without injury or death.

 

His dick was firmly onboard with Cas’ plan. Shivers of pleasure ran up and down his body. He caught slight movement in the corners of his eyes. Wings. Cas was rubbing his wings against Dean. Faint tingles of grace seemed to pass from every feather into Dean’s nerves.

 

“Uh, I don’t do so well with heights Cas.” Disappointment flickered briefly across Cas’ face before turning impassive.

 

“Very well, I will return you to Sam.”

 

“That wasn’t a no,” Dean blurted out.

 

This was Cas. His best friend and lover. The one who gripped him tight and raised him from perdition. The angel who walked away from his home because he had faith and trust in a mere mortals. In Dean. It was time to return that trust.

 

“If you want to forget Hell, make it so I forget we’re flying,” he whispered in his angel’s ear.

 

“Dean?”

 

“I’m saying yes, Cas. Make me yours. Claim and mark me, angel. Just don’t drop me.”

 

Castiel solemnly searched Dean’s face for any lingering doubts. He slowly leaned to place a soft kiss on Dean’s forehead, like a benediction.

 

“I will never drop you. If you fall, I will fall with you.”

 

Dean wondered if he would ever get use Castiel’s blunt honesty and reassurances. He hoped not. The angel didn’t have as many hang ups about expressing himself as would a self-conscious, neurotic human. Or Dean.

 

“I’d rather neither of us fall. Show me what you got, angel.” Dean hitched his legs up higher, locking them behind Cas’ back. He moaned when Cas’ body rubbed against his cock.

 

Castiel’s eyes darkened and growled “Dean,” as he plundered his mouth.

 

This was the fierce warrior angel of the Lord, who took what he wanted and swept across the battlefield of Dean’s body. Grace ran under his skin, glowing to match his wings. Dean surrendered without a fight.

 

“Feel my touch, my grace intertwining with your body and soul. My wings shielding you from all eyes save mine. I remade you; bled for you, died for you. You are mine.

 

Hands and wings swept from Dean’s shoulders, sliding around to his chest and down his ribs. Feathers tickled his areolae, pebbling them into tight nubs. Clever fingers danced down his ribs, playing at Dean’s heart.

 

“Every inch of skin is mine to do with what I like. To kiss and bite, until your skin turns red and purple. My first mark is here,” Cas’ hand slid directly over the scar, causing Dean to gasp when a new bolt of grace shot through it. “Where should I place another one?”

 

“Here?” Cas’ hand slid to his other shoulder. “Here?” His hand fell directly on the tattoo over Dean’s heart. “Or here?” The hand unerringly closed around Dean’s dick and gave several languorous strokes.

 

Dean gasped out a strangled agreement. His cries quickly became louder as appendages that were not fingers brushed against his hole. Cas was preparing him with his wings.

 

Unseen trickles of grace wove around his cock and inside his ass. The sensation wavered between too much and hell yes, more. As if Cas could hear his thoughts, grace stretched out his hole just wide enough for Cas’ cock to slid in. He buried himself to the hilt, his balls smacking against Dean’s ass.

 

“And now I take you. Dean Winchester, the Righteous Man and savior. Mine. My beloved and no one else’s.” Every growled word was accompanied by a thrust, directly hitting that sweet spot that made Dean see stars.

 

Dean’s hands scrambled at Cas’ back, searching for leverage to drag his angel in closer and harder. His hands plunged into wings. It was like sticking his hands in an electrical socket. A very pleasurable, electrical socket. Heat and desire rocked his body, leeching up from his hands. Wings must have been an erogenous zone for an angel, as Cas froze and then renewed his pounding with more vigor, growling out Dean’s name . His wings sparked and wrapped around Dean, flooding him with the foreign impressions of love, happiness, and belonging. All these and more transferred from Cas to Dean to take up residence in his mind and soul. He could only choke out “please,” “more,” and other incoherent cries of passion.

 

“Scream my name, Dean. Let me hear you.”

 

“Cas!”

 

“My name, Dean. Tell all of Heaven who you belong to.”

 

CASTIEL!

 

The grace around his dick vanished, allowing him to come. He was still coming, cock jerking against his stomach when Cas followed him. Except it wasn’t just an extraordinary orgasm. The angel exploded into light and sensation, alighting every nerve, bone, and muscle in Dean’s body with the impression of painpleasure. Cas’ true voice mixed with human vocal chords, rattling Dean’s already fucked out brain.

 

Dean Winchester is loved.

 

And then Dean blissfully lost consciousness.

Chapter 3: Gabriel is a flying little fucker

Summary:

Gabriel would make such an awesome brother-in-law. NOT. He really doesn't give a flying fuck what Castiel does unless it involves sweets and strippers. But an opportunity to mess with Dean really can't be passed up.

Notes:

This was suppose to be sweet and porny and instead I made myself cry during the first part. And then this little fucker *cough, Gabriel, cough* demanded screen time. Thanks Gabe.

Chapter Text

“I can feel you staring at me,” Dean stated without opening his eyes. There was a firm body at his back and a breath tickling at the nape of his neck. Something tickled his feet, causing him to squirm.

 

“You are pleasing to look at.”

 

Dean flushed, pleased and mortified at the simple statement. “So, was that some weird part of an angelic courtship ritual that we just took part in? Fuck your partner in the air and you’re going steady? Do I get your jacket and a promise ring?” Bull shit and deflection was easier to come by for him then affectionate honesty. He turned around to leer at the angel of the Lord.

 

Green eyes met unflinching blue ones. “You can have my overcoat if you want Dean, I don’t feel the cold like you do. And this mark is a more permanent symbol of responsibility and dedication than any human ring.” One hand gripped his shoulder. “And this,” the hand slowly glided across his chest, directly over his tattoo and heart “is my choice.”

 

The organ in question sped up faster than the Impala fleeing from the cops beneath Cas’ hand.

 

My choice.

 

Dean had never been anyone’s choice. His brother tried to achieve the middle class stiff’s dream of college, a mortgage and a dog. His dad had chosen vengeance over everything. Cassie had freaked when he first told her the truth about who he was and decided that he was a crazy freak. Even Lisa, who witnessed the supernatural and saw Dean in action first hand, couldn’t handle it. Dean didn’t blame her though. Lisa was a mom and her first priority was Ben. Dean would never have forgiven himself if his lifestyle caused either one of them more harm. And his mom…

 

Well, he tried not to think about Zachariah’s behind the scenes of heaven show. On good days he could even convince himself that it was all an act. Those were becoming a more frequent occurrence with Cas around.

 

It was nice to actually be wanted for his body and soul in a way that didn’t end with him starting an apocalypse or playing sock puppet for an archangel douchebag.

 

Dean licked his suddenly dry lips and fumbled for a reply. But really, what do you say to an angel of the Lord who rebelled for you, got kicked out of his home, and even died for you? Thanks, but I’m fuck up and get people killed? Wow, your decision making skills suck? I don’t come with a guarantee; you should get your money back now? I am the worst choice in existence?

 

“Dean.”

 

The simple sound of his name on Cas’ lips jerked him out of his thoughts. There were crinkles in Cas’ forehead and worry in his eyes. Shit. Even now he was fucking this up.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Dean’s heart stopped, lurched, and then continued its erratic beating. Cas had realized the mistake he had made in choosing Dean as more than a friend-with-benefits. Dean would accept his apology; they could both chalk up the moment to hormones and lust and get back to no strings attached sex. That’s what he wanted right?

 

“It’s alright Cas. I’m good.”

 

The lines in his forehead deepened and his normal stoic appearance turned even more rigid.

 

“I did not mean to make you uncomfortable Dean. I should have asked for your permission before engaging in sexual congress. I can move the mark somewhere else if you prefer. I would rather you not remove it due to its added protections, but I understand if you would rather hide it.”

 

“Uh, what?”

 

“My mark, Dean. This should have been a mutual decision but I acted on impulse. I apologize for my lack of control. I would understand if you decided to wait to finish your claim on me.”

 

Dean rapidly blinked. Shut his eyes for a minute and then opened them. Cas was still staring at him and he was still confused. There were no eerily glowing portals, mysterious symbols on the walls, or a popcorn munching trickster in the corner. Okay, so this still might be his reality.

 

“My claim. On you? I get to claim you?”

 

For the first time in the conversation, Cas broke eye contract, lowering his gaze.

 

“If you wish. It is your choice Dean.”

 

The only thing Dean had less practice at then being someone’s choice was making one of his own for something he truly wanted.

 

Now would be a good time to start then boy. A little voice in side his nudged him. It sounded a lot like Bobby.

 

“As you wish.” God, he was such a dork. “I mean, do you want me to want you?” That wasn’t much better.

 

Cas snapped up from his perusal of the pillows thread count. “I have wanted you since the moment I first saw your soul shining in the void. We endured much together, you and I, there is no one I would rather have at my side. Whether we are cursed or not, we have always been better together than apart. I love you now and will for the remainder of my existence. I will always be there when you need me, however you decide our relationship should evolve. Again, the choice is yours.

 

There are moments where it seems like the universe holds its breath. You’re poised at the top of a staircase or crossing traffic. Right before Fate spins her wheel and decides if you fall or step gracefully to the floor, you will reality to conform to your wishes. Sometimes she agrees with your choice. Other times, not so much. Winchesters have their own special section on her wheel. Time to take a spin Dean.

 

Inhale

 

“Yes”

 

Exhale

 

This whole respiratory thing isn’t so hard once you got the hang of it, a minuscule part of Dean’s brain gibbered on. The rest of his entire being was focused on Castiel. His attention was returned.

 

For being a timeless celestial being that had observed galaxies forming and stars burning, Castiel worshipped Dean as if he was God Himself with his gaze.

 

“Thank you,” was gruffly whispered against Dean’s lips before they pressed more firmly into a breath stealing kiss.

 

“Aww, look at the lovebirds. I can practically see the little hearts twirling around your heads. Wait, give me a sec.”

 

Click

 

“GABRIEL!WHAT THE” “Gabriel you are” FUCKITY FUCKING” “Intruding upon a” “FUCK” “private” “WHAT ARE YOU DOING!?” “affair. Leave before I stab you with Raphael’s blade and pluck out every.single. feather. Assbut.”

 

Dean momentarily lost his rage at the feathery Archdouche of the Lord to stare at his badass… partnerboyfriendloverhis angel.

 

“That’s was so fucking hot, Cas,” Dean blurted out. He was going to ignore the little bluebirds that joined in the hearts swirling above Cas’ head.

 

“Jeez, you come to congratulate a guy and instead get your head bitten off.”

 

“Fuck off Gabriel.”

 

“You’re repeating yourself, kiddo. That doesn’t bode well for spicing up my lil’ bro’s sex life.”

 

“Go practice safe sex and screw yourself.”

 

“I have no complaints about the sex. Dean is a generous and sensual lover. Now why are you really here, Gabriel?”

 

The cartoon hearts had sprouted limbs and were dancing a tango with the bluebirds. Dean intently studied their dance steps, face matching the color of the hearts.

 

“Really Dean, you should be more grateful that I prodded my brother into getting you both into the angelic mile high club. And Cassie, you should be more gracious to the guy that went and ran that errand you asked of me. I’m feeling a little left out. You went and got hitched without a bachelor party planned by moi. I get a discount at the Spearmint Rhino and everything too.”

 

The hearts were dressed in wedding gowns and were being dipped by the bluebirds now sporting trench coats. Dean was oddly entrenched at the sight.

 

“Gabriel, I will discuss business with you later. Leave. Now.”

 

The hearts and birds were nesting Cas’ hair. Dean could feel something wriggling around on top of his head.

 

“I’m going, I’m going. Dean, you might want to get Sam out of jail, Castiel…let me know if you want a copy of your sex tape. Give you something to watch on the honeymoon. Catch you later!”

 

Snap!

 

A shower of glitter exploded above their heads.

 

Dean blinked to get the glitter out of his lashes. And several more times because obviously Gabriel was messing with reality again. Otherwise…

 

Gabriel implied they had gotten married.

 

Gabriel said Sam was in jail.

 

Gabriel had a sex tape of Cas.

 

Gabriel had a sex tape of Cas.

 

“Cas…why does Gabriel have a sex tape of you?” And why don’t I have it?

 

Cas tilted his head in a manner that Dean had come to notice that he was tuning into Angel Radio.

 

“It’s a compilation of the amateur videos from the dinner, the local news crew, and several passengers in a passing airplane that includes the both of us. Gabriel says the zoom on some of the cameras are amazing. Also that’s not what he meant about giving a flying fuck but he likes my interpretation. Hmm, he is also willing to bail out Sam as a gift for us provided there’s cake at the actual reception. I believe you would prefer pie though. Should we go get Sam ourselves?”

 

“Fuck. My. Life.”

 

“I’d rather fuck you. Would you be up to another “flying fuck” as Gabriel called it later on? Dean? Dean, why are you laughing in that manner? You called Sam a girl the last time he laughed like that. Dean? Well, no, you can’t give a flying fuck as you don’t have wings, but that’s why I experimented with mine. I don’t think humans are supposed to turn that color.”

 

I just had my angel tell me he loves me and had the best damn sex of my life all because Gabriel couldn’t give a flying fuck. I’ll get him some chocolate. And then I’ll stab him.

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