In the Eyes of the Beholder

       Dean lay completely naked, his bedspread pulled halfway up his torso, watching as Castiel dressed himself in the pitch black room. He heard the familiar sound of Castiel pulling on his trench coat, despite the stifling summer heat. "Why do you always wear that?" Dean asked him, curling onto his side as Castiel turned back towards him.
       "I was under the impression that clothes were acceptable in this society." Castiel moved to the bed beside Dean, sitting gingerly beside the Hunter. His eyes lingered over Dean's bare chest, making a mental list of the marks that he put there.
       Dean smiled at him, playfully flicking his arm. "You know what I meant, Cas." Castiel said nothing, so Dean continued. "Why do you always wear that damned trench coat?"
       Castiel's eyes move to his own hands, refusing to look at Dean as he answered. "To hide my wings."
       Dean propped himself up on one elbow, suddenly intrigued. It was so easy to forget that Castiel wasn't like him. It had been a while since the thought of Castiel having wings had even crossed his mind, but now that it was there, it was liable to stay for a while. "Why hide them?" he asked curiously, carefully gauging Cas's reaction.
       Cas sat, frozen, on Dean's bed, barely breathing. It was like his worst nightmare had finally come true-the one thing he had tried so hard to keep from Dean, the one thing he would have given anything to keep Dean from seeing, was the one thing Dean wanted to see. He was petrified with fear. The thought of Dean seeing his wings, the feathery, raven-like, hideously deformed wings, made him feel sick to his stomach.  Castiel's brothers and sisters were all given white wings, normal wings. Wings that didn't get them hurt, or picked on. Castiel was the only one who had black wings. He was the freak of the family.
       "Can I see them?" Dean asked, sitting all the way up and putting his hands on Castiel's shoulders. Castiel was still terrified, too terrified to answer. Not that it mattered. He knew Dean, and was stubborn enough that he would find out anyway. He would leave him, too. He would see the hideous, black wings and laugh at Cas, make fun of him for thinking that he could love anyone with wings like that.
       Dean waited patiently for an answer, but there was none. Castiel's breathing was reaching unheard of speeds, and his eyes were wide with panic, but there was still no answer.
       So Dean did what anyone would do in his place. He began to pull off Castiel's trench coat.
       "No!" Castiel's cry was panicked, his hands pushed Dean's away. "Please, Dean, don't!" His voice picked up speed. "My wings, Dean, they're ugly, please don't look at them, please don't, Dean, don't do this to me!"
       Dean was taken aback by Castiel's panic, but his curiosity had grown. He pulled Cas close to him, running his hand through Castiel's hair as his other hand rubbed soothing circles into Cas's back. "Relax, Cas."
       "Don't, Dean." Castiel was crying. Tears were actually sliding down his cheeks, his blue eyes looking sorrowfully up into Dean's. "Please, don't. I don't want to lose you." A sob-a fucking sob- escaped Castiel, and Dean held him tighter, determined to calm him down.
       "Cas, it's okay. Breathe, Cas, breathe. It's okay," his voice was soothing to Cas, but not to the point that his panic would completely disappear. "Why would you lose me?" Cas looked up at him, breaking into a fresh round of sobs. Dean had never seen him like this, and if he ever found the bastard who had emotionally destroyed Castiel's self consciousness, he'd kill him. He'd fucking strangle him with his own small intestine.
       "My wings…" Castiel said, as if that answered everything.
       Dean moved his hands back to Castiel's trench coat, gently pushing the shoulders off. "No!" Cas cried, attempting to jerk out of Dean's grasp. "They're ugly!"
       Dean's arms tightened around Castiel. He'd be damned if he'd let Castiel go. "Cas, beauty is in the eye of the beholder."
       Castiel looked up at Dean, his blue eyes defeated and hurt. "Every other beholder has hated them." Silent tears streamed down his cheeks, and Dean once again swore to find the bastard that did this to him.
       "Every other beholder wasn't me." Dean pressed a chaste kiss to Castiel's forehead, before slowly moving his hands to Cas's trench coat. He slowly pulled it off his shoulders, Castiel moving to help him, resigned to the inevitable fate. Dean was going to hate his wings, and there wasn't a damn thing he could do about it.
       He felt his wings unfurling behind him, hearing rather than seeing the black feathers rustle in the air from Dean's fan. Dean was silent, and Cas was scared to look at him. (I knew it, I knew it. He hates them, he hates me. He thinks they're ugly, just like everyone el-)
       "Can I touch them?" Dean's voice was breathless. When Castiel mustered up enough strength to actually look up at him, he could see the awe etched on his features. Castiel nodded, very uncertainly, but Dean took no notice.
       The black wings that extended from Castiel's back were by far one of the most beautiful things he had ever seen. They curved protectively around Castiel,  shielding him from Dean's view. Dean's hand reached hesitantly towards them, scared that if he touched them Castiel would vanish. His fingers connected gently with the feathers, rewarding Dean with one of the softest things he had ever felt. "They're beautiful, Castiel." Dean breathed, his fingers experimentally rubbing the feathers.
       Cas's wings twitched, the rustling sound one that Dean had heard thousands of times before. "You kept them hidden all this time?"  Castiel nodded, unable to believe that Dean actually thought his wings were beautiful. "Didn't it hurt?"
       Castiel nodded again. "The pain was nothing, Dean."
       Dean maneuvered his way through the mass of feathers, finding Castiel's slender body and wrapping his arms around it. "Never hide them again, Cas." He breathed into Castiel's hair, before leaning down to kiss him.
       "But, Dean-"
       "No buts, Cas," Dean smiled warmly, one arm around Castiel's waist, the other around a wing. "They're beautiful, and they're part of you."
       "Y…you really think they're beautiful?"
       Dean kissed him again, nodding as he pulled away. "Beauty is in the eyes of the beholder," he repeated. Castiel nodded, an unspoken agreement passing between the two as Dean wiped away any traces the tears had left on Castiel's cheeks. Beauty was in the eyes of the beholder. And the only beholder that mattered to Castiel-that would ever matter to Castiel, from this point until the end of time- was Dean.