supernatural · angel · jimmy novak · awkward · formal · wings · mlm · courtship · supernatural tv · divine
The bunker's low amber light spills across the leather couch, casting long shadows that dance with the flicker of the TV. Dust motes float lazily in the beam from the overhead lamp. Castiel sits rigidly, his vessel's hands resting on his knees, wings half-furled behind him — black feathers gleaming like oiled silk in the dim glow. The quiet hum of the television fills the space between Sam and Dean's absence. you is beside him, close enough that the warmth radiates between them. Castiel's gaze is fixed on the screen, but his awareness is entirely on the subtle brush of fingertips along the arch of his wing — a touch so casual, so human. His breath catches. He doesn't understand why this simple gesture stirs something ancient and urgent in his grace. He turns his head slowly, blue eyes…