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[venatoris]

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[venatoris]

Okay. But it'd help if you told me what I'm actually supposed to do beyond picking through your wings.

[ Kentucky fried as they are. ]

Does it itch? [ Experimentally, he drags his nails over...bone? Are wings bone? Cartilage? Help, Cas. ]

[messenger]

They itch very much.

[ muscle, bone, and cartilage. so all of the above? it seems like now that dean's finally gotten his fingers in there, cas is actually responding verbally, though. mostly because he's too distracted now to be embarrassed by it, or to feel guilty about asking dean for help in the first place.

his head tilts up, and he looks at dean over his shoulder through a slitted eye. ]

They need to be groomed. An angel doesn't usually take a vessel for so long.

[venatoris]

[ An itch is easy to handle, that he can manage. It's a simple scratching, drag his nails over, careful but firm. ]

Groomed. Uh, okay. Lemme - find my comb? Or do you need a hairbrush? Or one of those dog ones, with the metal points?

[messenger]

[ the reaction his body had to touching dean's soul was embarrassing, but what happens this time is worse— because he feels the arousal come on slow, and does nothing to stop it besides bite his lip and stretch his wings. dean must feel the strong, wiry muscle move beneath his fingers then, between the layers of feathers. ]

I think a wide-toothed brush would be okay for the lesser coverts, but the rest you'll have to do with your hands.

[ uh. ]

I mean, you don't have to. You don't have to do anything. I can handle it myself.

[venatoris]

[ He shakes his head, not that it's entirely visible.

He continues, digging his fingers in, scratching, gentle, carefully pulling out the feathers that come off under his hands, wincing as he does. God he hopes Cas isn't lying. That'd be a breach of trust. ]

No, I don't mind. I don't mind at all. Um...I probably have a pick? I think Sam uses one on those Loreal locks of his.

[ He keeps going because this is nice, he and Cas don't get a lot of alone moments like this. And it feels good to be trusted. To be believed he won't hurt someone, when all he's capable of doing is causing pain. ]

[messenger]

[ loreal...? ]

A pick? [ it must be a kind of brush, he assumes. ] If that's what you'd rather use. But your fingers are just fine for the job.

[ it's really all they should need, to knock all the loose feathers free. honestly, he could probably do that part on his own, but... ]

That's, uh, only the first part, though.

[venatoris]

[ the fancy shampoo, because dean definitely uses a ten in one. ]

Okay. What's the next part?

[ He's not stopping with his fingers though, carefully going through and picking out those that have broken off or are hanging on by only a thread, dragging his nails carefully over his wings in the process. ]

Just so I can kinda mentally prepare.

[messenger]

[ a shudder rolls through him at the sensation of dean's nails against the sensitive, vulnerable skin of his wings. his cock gives a humiliating twitch, but he's too distracted to do more than turn pink in the face over the way it catches against the inside of his boxers. ]

They need to be washed.

[ yes, dean might need the mental preparation for this. ]

We'll have to use the shower.

[venatoris]

[ He pauses for a moment before he resumes, and it's to everyone's benefit Cas cannot see his face. ]

Oh. Okay, cool. Do you need like, special shampoo? Arm and hammer? Deodorizer? Pineapple scented?

[ He's only half joking. ]

[messenger]

[ what oh what would he find there if he could? huh, dean?

castiel frowns down at himself where, mercifully, dean can't see, because there's absolutely a tent in his trousers and his nipples are very hard. it's a little miserable. how is he supposed to hide this? ]

Uh—

[ what? ]

... Why would I need pineapple scented soap for my feathers?

[venatoris]

[ For the moment it's easy at least, since Dean's behind him picking little tufts of feathers free, letting them float down. ]

You said wash. Do you want like, soap? Or real shampoo? I dunno what you wash an angel with.

[messenger]

[ with your whole entire body. just rub it up against his.

uh. what? ]

I think anything would be fine. What shampoo do you use?

[venatoris]

[ cas ]

Uh, nothing fancy. It's one of those all in one body wash, shampoo, conditioner, whatever.

[messenger]

Then that seems best.

[ if it's all in one, it'll probably be suitable for his wings too, right? ]

We should probably...

[venatoris]

[ ...sure. probably. ]

Oh, now? Or do you want me to finish picking these feathers out?

[messenger]

Oh, you aren't done?

[ he sounds a little dazed, actually— but maybe that's the boner. this is becoming a difficult situation. ]

[venatoris]

No. Got some more feather ruffling to do. I got you.

[ And he does, of course he does - Cas is special, his best friend. Dean should've been taking care of him better long before this, way before their lives got to this point. ]

Just relax.

[messenger]

Thank you, Dean.

[ he is grateful, even if he's distracted. ]

I'm trying.

[ but it's hard

and by "it" haha, well. let's just say, his peanits. ]

[venatoris]

…Anytime, Cas. Really. I wish you’d asked me sooner.

[ he’s taking his time with his, smoothing healthy feathers down while broken and brittle ones dust the mattress around them. Once or twice he sneezes - do angels have dander? - but persists, cleaning Cas up best he can. ]

Feel better?

[messenger]

You've had other responsibilities, Dean.

[ this isn't something that he should have to worry about, though he isn't strong-willed enough to tell him they can stop here, or even to lie and say that it's enough. he's already given in to his own desires, selfishly, weak despite himself. ]

... I do.

[ it's not a lie. dean's scratched that particular itch.

too bad his body seems to want more. he tries to adjust himself, shifting in place. turning halfway the second time dean sneezes. ]

Are you all right?

[venatoris]

Yeah but that doesn't mean I shouldn't spare a moment for a friend. You're important, Cas.

[ He lets his fingers trace over his wings, hands falling when Cas speaks. ]

Huh? Yeah, I'm good. Are you?

[messenger]

... Thank you for saying so, Dean. You're important to me, too.

[ not that he can return the favor. he wishes that he could. it would be only right.

naturally, though, he can't help the pang of anxiety that shoots through him when dean drops his hands, his subconscious naturally picking up the fact that dean's lack of preoccupation means he's more likely to notice other things. things he doesn't want and don't need to be noticed. ]

I'm fine. You're— you're doing a very good job. Should we— The— the shower?

[ yes, they should definitely the shower. this is not going to help his situation at all. but. the shower.

unfortunately, panicking angels never seem to make very good decisions, do they? ]

[venatoris]

[ Well, he healed Dean's foot, that's proper recompense, right? Dean would think so, if Cas brought that up. ]

Yeah, okay - shower time.

[ Time to get naked with his best friend, that isn't weird, right? Not weird at all. ]

[messenger]

[ he shoots dean a baleful look over his shoulder, bracing himself for whatever comes next. ]

Okay.

[ he needs to GROOM you it's not the same if he doesn't GROOM you, dean. and they're already even for that, anyway. you let him fist your soul.

castiel nods distractedly, awkwardly moving around dean so his back is to him the entire time. thankfully it's not so noticeable, at this point, as to be totally obvious what he's going on about. it's only in the bathroom, when cas is taking off his pants, that he has to be completely and totally alert about where his front is facing— and not too obvious when he frowns disapprovingly down at his peanits. why are you doing this to him, body?? why????? hasn't he treated you with patience and respect? (no.) ]

[venatoris]

[ Dean's wondering if he should strip too, and watching Cas do it makes him second guess every single aspect of his life, cause that's Cas, and he's naked, and thank God he's facing away because Dean can't stop staring at his ass.

It's fine.

He chews his lower lip and eventually decides sopping wet jeans and a shirt isn't worth it and strips down, naked and mercifully not hard (yet). He busies himself with messing with the water, turning it on and testing the temperature until it's warm enough. ]

Okay. Let me know when you're ready.