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Storm	By : AnonymousTigress Category: Supernatural > Slash - Male/Male Views: 3468 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Supernatural. I gain no benefits and do NOT make any money writing this.

Chapter List
- 1-Storm
- 2-Sam and Gabriel
- 1
- 2
Title: Storm
Author: AnonymousTigress
Rated: Adult++
Disclaimer: I DO NOT own Supernatural. I gain no benefits and do NOT make any money writing this.
Summary: They made a mistake and now Castiel has to tend to an injured, unconscious Dean. Might be a oneshot.

He appeared on the front porch of an old house. He could tell that there was no one in the house, had been no one for a long time. The body he was holding up sagged in his arms, causing him to snap back to his attention.
“Hold on, Dean.”
Castiel pushed the door open and hauled Dean inside. Thunder rumbled through the air while lightning struck hard outside the house. Castiel helped walk Dean over to a dust couch that served as the living room. Dean let out a small, pained groan as Castiel lied him down on his back.
Castiel sat down on the side of the couch as he stared at the unconscious and injured hunter. Everything had gone so horribly wrong so fast. Sam and Dean had gone on a simple salt and burn. There was no need for him or his brother Gabriel to join the hunters. Both had been relaxing when his phone had started ringing. When he put it on speaker, it was to hear the rushed speech of Sam’s; something was chasing him and his equally unharmed brother.
It turned out a large group of demons, vampires, and werewolves decided it was a good time to ambush the brothers. When the angel and his archangel brother appeared, the brothers had taken out a good number of the monsters before taking injuries themselves. Dean lay unconscious on the ground and Sam stood on one knee protectively in front of his older brother. A very enraged archangel had blasted them all back, allowing them to escape with the hunters.
Castiel still wasn’t sure how it was they hadn’t landed at the same place. He knew Gabriel would take care of Sam just as he would take care of Dean. The hunter’s face had several cuts and bruises with blood leaking down the sides of his face. One of his eyes was swollen and Castiel was quite sure there were other, more serious injuries.
It was storming heavily outside now, but the angel paid it no mind. The structure would hold under the force of the storm. Maybe not against a hurricane, but this storm was not one of those. Reaching out, Castiel gently began unbuttoning the hunter’s shirt. He started at the bottom and moved swiftly up to the top. When he pulled the shirt open to the sides, he found more blood and something sticking out through the skin that didn’t look right.
When Castiel lightly pressed on the skin, Dean hissed painfully through his teeth. Castiel lifted his hand and ran it down the hunter’s jeans-covered leg. There didn’t appear to be any injuries below Dean’s abdomen. Castiel would check after he cleaned up the hunter’s top half. With a small flap of wings, he disappeared. He reappeared a moment later with a bowl of water and a washcloth.
Normally, he would have tapped Dean’s forehead with two fingers and instantly heal him. Except he couldn’t. Last week’s encounter with a group of angels had allowed one sneaky angel enough time to curse Castiel. He was still able to do everything else (“teleport,” banish demons, etc.); his ability to heal wouldn’t be active for another week or two.
Castiel frowned as he placed the bowl and cloth on the nearby coffee table. He swept a hand under Dean to pull him up into a sitting position. Leaning the battered body against his, Castiel gently went about pulling the shirt away. Gabriel had been beyond enraged when he had found the symbols burning onto him. That angel wasn’t going to be seen by anyone ever again.
Castiel finished pulling the shirt away and tossed it away. He held Dean’s body against his as he reached out to dip the washcloth into the bowl of water. Dean groaned as the washcloth swiped over his face. Castiel’s hand was gentle with cleaning the blood away. A large bump on the back of the hunter’s head revealed the reason for his unconscious state. The bump didn’t concern Castiel.
The piece of Dean protruding outward was a grave concern. Castiel wished to heal the hunter, but calling Gabriel was out of the question. However, there was another option. It was one he had used only before and it hadn’t been on Gabriel. He knew if he did it that the older angel would be pissed later. To not do it could cause even more serious harm to Dean.
Making his decision, Castiel brought his hand down to the protrusion, concentrated on Gabriel, and yanked. A sudden source of healing zinged through Castiel like a spark to firewood. Dean’s back arched as he cried out in pain. Castiel’s other hand shot up to wrap his arm around the hunter’s back, pulling him back down against him.
When the angel pulled his hand back and ducked his head down, he found the protrusion had receded. The hunter no longer seemed to be experiencing pain there. Evidently, it had taken more out of the hunter as he panted heavily while resting his head on the angel’s shoulder. Castiel tilted his head with the familiar, low-eyebrow frown.
Humans are odd creatures, Castiel thought.
He laid Dean back down on the couch. He ran the washcloth across the man’s chest. His hand jerked away when Dean whimpered. It was a sound he would never associate with the hunter. When he determined that it was not a whimper of pain, Castiel continued his work. It didn’t happen again until the wash cloth swiped across his navel.
Letting out a shaky gasp, Dean’s whole body shuddered. Castiel frowned deeply. He put the washcloth aside before reaching out to unbuckle Dean’s belt. Perhaps there was an injury he hadn’t foreseen. After opening the jeans, it was easy to slip them down and off the hunter, especially after removing the man’s shoes and socks. Now Dean lay on the couch clad only in boxers.
A cursory glance over the hunter’s almost nude body revealed only a sprained ankle. Castiel snatched the washcloth back up, dunked it in the water and wrung it out. He returned to gently cleansing the hunter until the blood was all wiped up. There were a few minor cuts and bruises that would just need some time to heal. He noticed that his other hand must have breezed against Dean’s cheek while he was healing the protrusion. Now both it and the swollen eye were gone.
Castiel noticed Dean shuddered again when his hand slid the washcloth up his inner thigh to the inside of his boxers. He pulled the washcloth back and slipped his hand up between skin and cloth. He ran his hand firmly up and over skin, searching for injuries. This resulted in more shivers and more whimpers. He also noticed the growth of the hunter’s groin.
Suddenly, he realized that the hunter was in a different kind of pain. As the hunter tossed and turned on the couch, Castiel reasoned that if Dean didn’t find some relief, then the man would never get any rest. And the hunter needed rest. Thanks to his very talkative brother and an accidental switch of channels on the television, Castiel knew the basic mechanics. Even if he had never experienced an erect penis while in his vessel.
Using his angel strength, Castiel hauled Dean up into his lap as he sat himself down on the couch. Dean’s face was tucked into Castiel’s neck while sitting sideways on the angel’s lap. His hand slipped under the thin pair of boxers and grasped the body part below. At the same time, Dean’s hands grasped his trench coat.
The hunter’s penis felt heavy and big in his hand as he grasped it. Castiel started with slow, gentle pumps of the hard member. Dean whimpered into his neck while thrusting up into the strokes. As he carefully tightened his grip, Castiel leaned his cheek atop Dean’s head. His gaze fell on the hand-shaped mark on Dean’s shoulder.
His mark. A small smile flitted across Castiel’s features. This body – this man’s soul – was his work. He had pulled this hunter from Hell and put him back together. It only seemed fair that he make it come undone, too. Castiel brought his free hand up and laid it over the mark.
With a loud cry, Dean came all over Castiel’s hand. Pleasure spiked up his spine when he heard Dean moan “Cas” under his breath. His hand swept from the mark to Dean’s sweaty hair to pull his head back. The hunter was still unconscious which meant he had to have been calling to him in his sleep.
A warm feeling spread through his heart and in his pants. He squirmed as he felt stickiness in his own pants. He hadn’t even realized he had done the same thing as his hunter. In the blink of an eye, both hunter and angel were clean. Castiel was so focused on his hunter that he didn’t realize he was able to heal and clean again using his “angel mojo.”
A flap later and he was settling an exhausted Dean down onto a bed into an upstairs bedroom. He pulled off his trench coat and laid it over a chair. He unfurled and stretched out his wings. The angel sat down on the bed and gathered the hunter back into his arms, curling his wings about him to shield him from view. Rain lightly pelted the window as the angel watched over his hunter through the night.
“…C…as?” Dean mumbled, rolling his head against the angel’s chest.
Castiel tightened his grip before smoothing a hand through Dean’s hair.
“Rest, Dean. I will not leave.”
A/N: Would you believe I was working on my Harry Potter fan fic when this suddenly came to me? Might add more or not. I don't know yet.
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Storm