Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

Castiel glared at the antique safe as if it had personally offended him. Technically, it had. Tech Support for the LRPD had been able to open the more modern, electronic alarm on the first safe, but on the second safe, the old combination lock mocked everyone.

“Sorry, Chief,” Benny said, scratching his head with the blunt end of his ball-point pen. “I think we need to bring Dean in.”

Castiel stood still, hands on his hips, frowning at the second safe that was nestled into the hardwood floor. “Who is Dean?” he growled out. The Alpha was beyond irritated.

It was two-thirty in the morning and Castiel had been up for almost twenty-four hours. Finally busting a jewel thief who had eluded the police for months kept Castiel running, if only on fumes. If his partner of three months had an idea, Castiel was all ears.

“He’s the captain’s son. Owns a locksmith business; he’d be the one to call for this,” Benny said carefully, scuffing his foot along the floor next to the safe.

This was one case that he and Castiel hadn’t been able to solve in the three months he’d been with the station. Benny likened him to a dog with a bone.

Castiel sighed and rubbed one of his hands across his face, the only outward signs of his fatigue.

“Do it,” Castiel told Benny. He continued to stare at the safe, hoping to open it by sheer force of will.

Benny stepped away to make the call. “Hey, Cher,” Castiel heard Benny’s Louisiana accent from the hallway. “Sorry to wake you, but we got a safe that our people can’t open. Interested?” Benny paused, listening to the person on the other end of the line.

For some reason, Castiel bristled at Benny’s term of endearment. He could hear a muffled voice on the other end of the line and he strained to hear it, when Castiel realized that he had drifted closer to Benny to listen to the conversation. Castiel blinked his eyes hard and took two steps back. He had no idea why he needed to hear the person on the other end of the line.

“Great, Cher; see you soon.” Benny hung up the phone and turned to Castiel, who was standing closer than before. He took a step back. “Dean says he can here in about thirty minutes.”

Castiel was quiet and closed his eyes. The thief was already in lockup. They had plenty of evidence already, but Castiel’s gut told him something more was being protected in the safe. He listened to his gut.

“Fine,” he told Benny. “Should we send everyone but CSI back to the station?” Castiel knew what he wanted to do, but as a police detective with a partner, he couldn’t call the shots alone.

“Yeah, Chief; I think that’s best,” the burly man told him. “I’ll let everyone know,” he said and walked away.

Castiel rolled his neck a few times to try and loosen the kinks. Damn case. A string of jewelry store thefts had plagued the city for almost six months. Benny and his previous partner had sat with the thing for a month before they realized it was one person rather than a duo or a group. The thief would rob small independent stores and nearly wipe out their stock. Fencing diamonds hadn’t spiked until September and it was every two weeks like clockwork. Castiel came on board three months ago and the case became his baby. After one of the fencers turned up dead, the case garnered more attention and Castiel and Benny were given extra hands.

An anonymous tip the week before had led the team to investigate one Nick Morningstar, a.k.a. Lucifer. The alias had helped the detectives narrow down the where of their thief lived and now here they were at almost three a.m. waiting on a locksmith to open the last safe. The first held money and a few gems, items Lucifer claimed were family heirlooms. Castiel would bet his pension that Lucifer kept everything else in the hidden safe under the dining room rug. The man had to have known they’d check the small house from top to bottom...

Just before Castiel began to pace, he heard a new voice come into the living room. He took a step to his right and looked around the corner toward the front door. The man talking to Benny was slightly shorter than the other detective, but maybe only an inch or so taller than Castiel. The man’s hair stuck up at an odd angle and he carried a red toolbox. Castiel could see the man’s smile as he greeted Benny. The other detective began to lead the man—Dean—further into the house. As Benny moved out of the way, Castiel could get a better look at Dean, and what a look it was.

Castiel took in the plush pink lips and the straight nose that just barely tipped up at the end. The messy hair was a honeyed brown. Castiel couldn't wait to get a look at the man’s eyes. He frowned at himself and moved back into the dining area of the house. Since when did he care about eye color? Or the fact that the man filled out his gray AC/DC shirt and worn jeans very well? Or the fact that the man either forewent or forgot to put on a belt and the jeans sagged just enough for Castiel to catch a glimpse of his hipbone when he had shaken Benny’s hand?

Castiel was still trying to analyze his reaction to Dean when the man in question walked into the dining area. His eyes are green, Castiel thought as Benny introduced the two men. Dean took another step forward, hand extended.

“Hey, man, nice to meet you,” Dean said with a beautiful smile.

It took Castiel a moment, but he finally reached his hand out for a shake but as the men’s hands got close enough to touch, the kitchen light sparked and burst, showering the men and the room in glass. Castiel’s first instinct was to reach for Dean. In grabbing the man’s shoulder, he felt a burning sensation in his hand. The lights from the living room partially illuminated the dining area. Castiel saw the moment that Dean felt the burn—his eyes widened and his jaw dropped.

~~~~~

Dean dropped his toolbox when he felt the burn on his arm. It was a searing pain and he knew there would be a perfect handprint on his shoulder if he looked. Fucking biology made him an Omega and fucking fate led him to his True Mate. However shocked he was, however mad he was, he couldn’t look away from the man—the Alpha—who was literally made for him.

Benny had called Dean less than an hour ago and had woken him up from a very sexy dream with a faceless Alpha who had been slowly taking Dean apart piece by piece. Dean’s pretty sure he woke up with tears drying on his face and he’s definitely sure he woke up in a puddle of slick.

He hopped in the shower and had one of the best orgasms of his life with just his hands. Dean was pretty sure he blacked out for a minute. Upon exiting the shower, he dried off and wavered on whether or not to wear blockers. He never went without them so it was strange to have that particular desire. He overrode it and put on blockers along with deodorant. He did not, however, fix his hair. It was three in the morning, who gave a shit? He walked back into the bedroom and ripped his slick-soaked sheets off of the bed. He’d put new sheets on when he got back home. It was three in the morning, after all.

On his way to the crime scene (well, crime scene-adjacent), Dean thought about the sparse information that Benny was able to give him. Benny and his partner had found an electronic-alarm coded safe earlier, but the current safe was an antique somehow situated in the floor. He ran through the tools he had packed from previous jobs. Dean hoped he had his stethoscope...

Dean felt buzzy, like he was waiting for something, but he didn’t know what. Pulling up to the house in his ‘completely impractical car, Dean’ (according to his brother, the 1967 Chevrolet Impala was the exact wrong car for a businessman), he surveyed the house. It was possible that the safe had come with the old home. The house was 1940’s, one story, likely one-or two-bedroom. In the dark, with only the orange-colored streetlight to illuminate the house, Dean thought it might be white with black shutters.

The front door was wide open, being guarded by a patrol officer. Dean headed that way.

“Hey, I’m Dean. Benny—Detective LaFitte—called for me,” Dean said, standing patiently at the door.

It wasn’t that Dean was afraid of cops, but a few too many run-ins with them in his youth left him with a healthy dose of respect. (And yeah, okay, a little fear was mixed in.)

It only took a second for Benny to appear at the door and invite him in. As Benny explained the situation again, Dean caught a glimpse of dark, messy hair out of the corner of his eye. The person briefly stepped around the corner and Dean got a better look as he turned and Benny led him toward the safe. Dark, messy hair was the least of Dean’s worries.

He could see that the man had quite a bit of scruff on his face. He had pillowy, if chapped-looking, lips that Dean suddenly wanted to taste. Weird. The man was wearing a dark suit covered with a tan trench coat. His blue tie was backward and his eyes were bruised from lack of sleep. Dean shouldn’t have been charmed, but he was. He wanted to bundle the detective up and care for him. Weirder.

Benny led Dean into an area with a dining table scooted to the opposite wall and a dark purple rug was rolled up and moved to lay against the wall as well. Dean glanced at the safe only briefly before meeting the bluest eyes he had ever seen. They looked almost navy in the kitchen light.

“Detective Castiel Novak, meet Dean Winchester,” Benny said, moving off to the side of the room.

Then the light burst.

When the detective touched Dean’s shoulder, his instinct was to drop everything. Dean’s toolbox made an awful noise as it hit the floor. He could see from the corner of his eye that nothing spilled out, not that it made one bit of difference to the men still staring at each other. Dean and Castiel could still see thanks to the ambient light from the living room, but not as well as before.

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean could also see Benny rushing around, likely trying to find additional light sources. Neither Dean nor the other Alpha blinked. Castiel still had his hand on Dean’s shoulder.

“Alright, brotha, let’s see how this works,” Benny said, bringing in a large lamp, presumably from one of the patrol cars.

Dean blinked first and looked over to Benny who was completely oblivious to the two mates meeting for the first time. As if breaking a spell, Castiel let go of Dean’s arm. Dean immediately went to clutch his shoulder, trying to dull the pain. He turned to Benny and finally spoke after clearing his throat.

“Thanks,” Dean said quietly, “but I, uh, think I should head out, wait ‘til tomorrow.” He glanced over at Castiel, trying not to meet the man’s eyes head-on.

Benny looked baffled. “Cher, you--”

Dean and Benny heard Castiel growl softly. “Let him go, Benny,” Castiel said quietly, still looking at Dean.

Dean shivered at the first sound of the man’s voice.

“Castiel, I thought you wanted this--”

“It’ll keep a few more hours,” Castiel said slightly louder. “Mr. Winchester can come back when there’s more light.”

Benny rolled his eyes and threw up his hands, still oblivious to the tension between Dean and Castiel, and walked away. His voice carried throughout the house.

“A’ight, err’body, pack it up!”

The patrol officers on duty sighed in relief. They, too, had been up for almost twenty-four hours. Dean bent down to pick up his toolbox at the same time Castiel did. Their hands brushed, sending a slight tingle up both men’s arms. Dean looked into Castiel’s eyes again before jerking his hand away and picking up the toolbox.

Dean looked over to Benny and gave him a tight-lipped smile. “Thanks, man.” He went to shake Benny’s hand when the two men heard a light growl from Castiel’s direction. Dean turned to Castiel with wide eyes. The man cleared his throat and waved for the other two to continue.

Benny eyed both Dean and Castiel, beginning to realize that something was going on between the two men.

“Right,” Dean began, “I’ll see you later,” he told Benny. He gave Castiel a slight nod before turning and walking quickly away.

What the fuck? Dean asked himself as he quickly walked toward his car, parked just along the street in front of the house. Before he reached the door handle, Dean heard footsteps coming up quickly behind him.

“Don’t,” he said, barely above a whisper.

The feet coming up behind him stumbled, but stopped. Dean breathed a sigh of relief as he got into his car and drove away. He barely spared a glance for the confused-looking Alpha standing on the corner.

Chapter Text

The patrol officers began packing things up when Castiel darted out of the house, leaving Benny mid-sentence. He saw Dean heading toward his car and followed, not quite running, but not walking sedately either.   

“Don’t,” Dean said without turning around.   

Castiel stumbled a bit but stopped his forward momentum. He squinted his eyes and tilted his head in confusion. Surely, they needed to talk about what happened. Before Castiel could call out, Dean was in his car and driving off.  

Castiel slinked back to the house, watching as the other officers packed away lights and tools before placing police tape around the dining area, sealing the front door with more tape, and affixing a warning sign in the middle of the door. Hopefully, this would all help to keep intruders out, but an officer was tasked with staying nearby to watch the house anyway.  

Benny stood off to the side of the front yard, watching as things progressed before they all got to leave. He watched as Castiel walked down the short way down the sidewalk, head down and hands in his coat pockets, back toward the house.  

“You ready to tell me what that was about?” Benny asked quietly, not wanting to spook Castiel and not wanting additional ears catching onto the conversation.  

Castiel let out a deep sigh. He watched the house and the other officers for a moment before speaking.  

“I branded Dean,” he said simply.  

“You bran...you mean Dean is your True Mate?” Benny asked incredulously.  

Castiel nodded. “I reached for him when the bulb exploded and branded his shoulder. If my hand hurt, I can only imagine what Dean’s experience was.” He refused to look at Benny as he continued, unconsciously clenching and unclenching his fist. “I went after him hoping to talk, but he left before I got the chance to say anything.”  

Benny was quiet as he absorbed the new information.  

“Well,” he said finally, “at least that explains the staring.”  

Castiel tipped his head up in Benny’s direction, question in his eyes.  

Benny rolled his own and continued his thought. “The way you two were looking at each other, I’m surprised the whole room didn’t go up in flames.”  

Castiel thought back to his first impression of Dean—of Dean’s looks—and was glad that the early morning light still kept his face mostly hidden. He didn’t need to let Benny see his blush. Benny slapped his hand on the back of Castiel’s shoulder and gestured to their own car with his head. Castiel followed the man, wondering when—or if—he'd get the chance to see Dean again.   

Later that morning, the detectives were in the middle of a disagreement.   

“Just because he came out once, doesn’t mean he’ll want to help us again,” Castiel said, trying to reason with Benny.   

Both men had gone home and actually slept for a few hours before returning to the police station to continue their investigation. Well, Benny slept; Castiel tossed and turned for four hours. Lucifer was still in holding, not giving up any new information to the police. Benny and Castiel continued their conversation into the interrogation room.  

“I don’t want to call him again.”  

“You realize that he’s probably the most qualified for this job, right?”  

“Benny, you didn’t see the abject horror in the man’s eyes.”  

“No, ‘cuz you were starin’ at him the whole time,” Benny smirked.  

“Who are we not calling?” Lucifer asked cheekily as the men came to a stop near the room’s single table.  

“None of your business,” Castiel said automatically, looking into his file folder on the case for the millionth time.  

“The locksmith,” Benny said at the same time, cutting his eyes over to Castiel.  

“Ah,” Lucifer said, leaning back in his chair. “I guess you found my other safe.”   

Castiel’s eyes flicked up to Lucifer’s over the file folder. “Indeed. I don’t suppose you’d be inclined to help us open that, would you?”  

“Not at all, Detective. Not at all.” The man had a smarmy look upon his face and acted as though he were four steps ahead of the detectives.  

Castiel rolled his eyes and pulled out a chair. “Let’s go over all this again, shall we?”  

He and Benny took their seats across the table from Lucifer and began interrogating the man once again. They had another day and a half to gather more evidence before Lucifer was allowed to walk out.  

“Marvin Metatron,” Castiel began. “a.k.a....”  

“The Scribe of God. A fucking asshole if you ask me,” Lucifer interrupted.  

“Why the ‘Scribe of God’?” Castiel asked, making finger quotes as he said the name.  

Lucifer shrugged. “I guess it made him feel important to think he had the ear of someone so high up.”  

“Lucifer was a fallen angel. It makes sense that you would align yourself with other zealots.”  

“I’m not a zealot,” Lucifer said, losing the easy-going look on his face.  

“Are you trying to tell me that there isn’t some mafioso claiming himself to be God roaming the streets?” Castiel set his pen down on the table and leaned forward, bracing himself on his forearms. “Because I happen to know there is both a God and a King of Hell trying to split the city.”  

Lucifer snorted. “Everyone knows that. I’m proud of you, though; big mystery solved. Congratulations.”  

“I’m getting a coffee,” Benny said, rolling his eyes and leaving the room.  

“Aw, is ‘good cop’ leaving?” Lucifer asked, raising his voice.  

“Why did you kill Metatron?”  

“Who said I did?”  

“He was your number one fencer and then one day he turns up dead at the River Market. You’re suspect number one.”  

“Which is actually ridiculous. Do you know how many--”  

“We’re talking about you, Lucifer.”   

Lucifer spread his cuffed hands as wide as allowed. “I’m not sure how I can help, Detective Novak.”   

“Well, your first safe at least confirmed that you are the one robbing jewelry stores; the sapphires are quite lovely,” Castiel said conversationally, “but I’m more interested in that second safe. I have a feeling we may find all of our answers there.”  

“Look all you want, Detective.”  

Castiel held Lucifer’s blue eyes with his own. Not green , he thought randomly. Castiel shook his head slightly and got up to leave the room.  

Castiel struggled not to slam the door and figuratively patted himself on the back when he succeeded. He walked back downstairs to the bullpen. Castiel sat at his desk, and across from him, Benny sat with his feet propped up on his own desk, scrolling through his phone.   

“Are you texting D...Mr. Winchester?”  

“Formal, nice” Benny joked. “Maybe, maybe not. Someone’s being too stubborn to see that we could use the help.”  

Castiel closed his eyes and sighed, his sign for fatigue as well as irritation.  

“I’m not discounting the fact that Mr. Winchester would be helpful. I’m simply saying that I don’t think he’ll be inclined to help after last night.”  

“You don’t know Dean. He’s a stubborn son-of-a-bitch and will likely come just out of spite.” Benny moved his feet down to the floor. “I texted him to see if he was willing to go out to the house again; I haven’t heard back.”  

“Hm,” was Castiel’s only response.  

~~~~~  

Dean didn’t go back to sleep once he got home, despite the still-early hour. The first thing Dean did when he got home was rush to the bathroom and lift up the sleeve of his t-shirt. There, bright as day, was a raised handprint like a burn on his flesh. It was tender and the t-shirt wasn’t doing it any favors. Dean stripped out of his shirt and found an ointment that could hopefully help with the pain and begin healing the burn.  

Most people who found their True Mates ended up with burns and scars on their hands and arms. His mom’s scar was on her ankle after his dad reached out from under a car and grabbed her thinking he was reaching for a new drip pan.  

Dean caught himself staring at his shoulder and forced himself to look away. He neither wanted nor needed a True Mate. He took the ointment with him into his home office and began typing up an invoice to send to the police station. He’d sure as hell bill them for his time, even if all he did was stand in a room staring into blue eyes for half an hour.   

He knew Benny would contact him again; the police still had no way to get into the safe. Dean had made himself nearly indispensable to the police department, being their go-to locksmith when they couldn’t open something on their own. It was a nice gig: help the police once in a while, get paid, go back to helping little old ladies get into their cars or houses. It was comfortable.  

He got a text from Benny a few hours later.  

Benny: Hey brother you good?  

Dean: Yep  

Benny: You up for coming back out today?  

Was Dean up for going back to the old white house today? The other detective might be there. Was he ready to face his...True Mate? Was he ready to have a conversation about why that wouldn’t work out? Was he ready to see deep blue eyes that felt like they could see into Dean’s soul?   

That first touch had not only burned a handprint onto his arm, but he felt the burn all the way to his toes. His mother once told him that it felt like she had been hit by lightning. Yeah, that was an apt description of the way that Castiel—Detective Novak—made Dean feel as soon as he looked at the man. Something deep within him was zapped, for lack of a better word, and would never be the same.  

So, was he ready to face his True Mate and have a deep conversation? Not really.   

Dean looked at his schedule for the rest of the week. He had nothing pressing going on. He had a few appointments for installing new locks for businesses, an appointment later that day for a woman who had recently thrown out her ex, and then there were the random calls throughout the day (and sometimes night) for people who had locked themselves out of various homes or vehicles.  

Dean had the time, but not the inclination.  

Dean: I can make it out on Friday.  

Benny: I’ll take it. Say around lunch?   

Benny: We’ll eat, talk. Head over to the safe.  

The Alpha was one of Dean’s best friends. Dean had introduced Benny to his mate Andrea only a year ago. It’d been a while since the men had gotten together one-on-one.   

Dean: Sure. You’re buying  

Benny: Deal.  

Before Dean knew it, Friday had arrived. He and Benny were meeting at their favorite pizza and burger place and then had plans to go over to the house to deal with the safe. Dean arrived early just like he always did. He found a booth on the outside wall of the restaurant that had a good view of the door. He sat facing it, ready to greet Benny when he came in. Dean wasn’t expecting to see the messy mop of hair first. Dammit, Benny .  

He watched as the detective stood in the doorway, looking around the room. Probably locating the exits and making a quick sweep of the room to see that everything was copacetic. He was once again wearing the beige trench coat and a rumpled-looking suit. Did he own any other clothes? Hell, had he slept any over the last couple of days? Once Castiel’s eyes found Dean’s, his face opened up for just a moment, looking like he wanted to smile, and then shut down. Dean made sure to scowl in his direction.  

Just as the detective made a step in Dean’s direction, Benny came through the door and laid a hand on the other man’s shoulder. Whether it was to keep him in place or to push him forward, Dean wasn’t sure. The two men approached the booth. Benny sat opposite Dean, leaving Castiel to either sit by Dean or grab a chair to sit at the end of the table (Benny was not a small man and sharing his side of the booth would be a tight squeeze). Neither Dean nor Castiel had looked away since their eyes met a moment ago, so Dean gave a slight nod indicating his allowance of Castiel sitting beside him.   

“Hello, D...Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said, voice low and gruff.  

“Detective,” Dean responded, a little stiffly. The man’s voice reverberated down Dean’s spine.  

The light dimmed somewhat in Castiel’s eyes, but Dean wouldn’t let himself feel bad about it. Once in the booth, careful not to let their shoulders brush, Dean tried to relax, but it was no use. Despite the distance between them, albeit small, Dean’s shoulder burned and throbbed, almost begging for Castiel’s touch once more.   

Dean turned to his best friend and spoke first. “What the hell, Benny?”  

Both police officers winced and blushed.  

“I figured two birds, one stone. All of us go over the info we have on the safe, and then we head out to the house for you to open it.”  

Dean and Castiel both rolled their eyes.  

“Whatever,” Dean said, “you’re still buying me lunch.” He grabbed the menu and began looking it over despite knowing the restaurant’s repertoire front and back.   

Benny handed Castiel a menu since the man hadn’t been there before. Usually, Benny and Dean would order an extra-large of something and split a pitcher of beer. It looked like that wouldn’t be the case today. Once the food was ordered, Benny cleared his throat and began going over some of the details of the case with Dean. Castiel sat by and quietly observed. Benny looked over to the man a few times, but he stayed silent.  

Dean actually appreciated that the detective kept his mouth shut.  

“So, what I’m hearing is, y’all want me to open the safe for any extra goodies.”  

“Essentially,” Castiel replied, the first word he’d spoken since ordering his food.  

Dean looked at Benny. “Why didn’t your guys just take the hinges off if it was so important to get in last night?” Why let me leave? Besides the obvious...  

“The safe, if you recall, is flush with the floor. The hinges are on the inside and the combination lock is receded into the safe’s door,” Castiel replied almost haughtily.  

Dean cut his eyes over to Castiel. “Excuse me for forgetting a few details, Detective. Last night was a bit unexpected.”  

Benny, seeing that this conversation could devolve quickly, cut in.  

“It’s alright, Cher; we had to close up shop after you left anyway. Too much overtime.”  

Castiel looked at Benny and tilted his head. Dean refused to think the man looked like a cute baby bird.  

“That’s not--”  

“Oh, look; food’s here, Chief. You’re in for a treat.”  

The waitress dropped off two bacon cheeseburgers and Philly Cheesesteak for the three men.  

“Can I get y’all anything else?” she batted her eyes at Castiel. Dean refused to say or do anything that indicated that he had noticed.   

Without looking up, Castiel let the woman know that they were “fine, thank you very much”. The woman huffed a bit and walked away. Dean let slip a grin as he bit into his burger.   

Dean tried to follow along with the information that Benny was giving him over lunch, but the proximity of Castiel and the burning in his shoulder were taking all of his concentration. He caught a few words every now and then: local, robberies, gems, safe, Lucifer. None of the parts made a whole.   

“Alright, Dean, you ready to head over?”  

Dean snapped out of his trance and just nodded. He assumed that the men would be leaving for the house now. “Yeah, man; let’s get to it.”  

All three men got out of the booth, Benny leaving enough cash for the meal and a tip. Dean walked outside quickly and got into his car before either Benny or Castiel could say anything to him.  

Chapter Text

On Friday, Castiel wasn’t sure that Benny’s plan would work. He had a strong feeling that Dean wouldn’t take kindly to being misled. Showing up at the diner, unannounced, probably wouldn’t do Castiel any favors. However, looking at the man in the light of day, as opposed to the lovely orange streetlamps and spotlights, Castiel noticed that Dean was tanned, still just as beautiful as he was the night of the incident, and wearing a blue and green flannel that made his eyes glow. Even the scowl the man shot Castiel’s way couldn’t dim the brightness of his being.  

Benny had to push Castiel through the doorway to get him to move. He and Benny approached the booth.  

“Hello, D...Mr. Winchester,” Castiel said, voice low and gruff. He wouldn’t use the man’s first name until he thought it was safe to do so.  

“Detective,” Dean responded, a little stiffly.  

Castiel really couldn’t fault the man for his standoffishness. Benny began his sales pitch to Dean while Castiel sat by and kept his mouth shut.   

“So, what I’m hearing is, y’all want me to open the safe for extra goodies.”  

“Essentially,” Castiel replied, the first words he’d spoken since ordering his food.  

Dean looked at Benny. “Why didn’t your guys just take the hinges off if it was so important to get in last night?”   

“The safe, if you recall, is flush with the floor. The hinges are on the inside and the combination lock is receded into the safe’s door,” Castiel replied, soon realizing that that information was not helpful to the man sitting next to him. Dean turned around in his seat, giving Castiel an unobstructed view of green .   

“Excuse me for forgetting a few details, Detective. Last night was a bit unexpected.”  

Indeed, Castiel thought, looking at Dean.   

Benny jumped in with, “It’s alright, Cher; we had to close up shop after you left anyway. Too much overtime.”  

Castiel looked at Benny and tilted his head. That was certainly not the case. They quit because Castiel branded their locksmith and the man stormed off.  

“That’s not--” Castiel began. He wanted to remind Benny of what had actually transpired.  

“Oh, look; food’s here, Chief. You’re in for a treat,” Benny said, not letting Castiel continue.   

“Can I get y’all anything else?” the waitress asked as she batted her eyes at Castiel.   

Without looking up, Castiel let the woman know that they were “fine, thank you very much”. The woman huffed a bit and walked away. Castiel looked up briefly as the woman walked away. Was that a flirtation? He could feel Dean’s eyes on him.  

Before long, the meal was over and the task of opening the safe lay before the three men. Castiel would have liked to offer to escort Dean to the home (he had only been there once, after all), but Dean got in his car and drove away before anything else could be said.   

Castiel turned to Benny before they got in the squad car. “That’s not the reason we ‘closed up shop’ as you told Dean.”  

Benny rolled his eyes. “You really want to tell Dean that the reason we shut everything down was because y’all met and everything went to shit?”  

Castiel looked straight ahead through the windshield as he put his seatbelt on. “It didn’t ‘go to shit’,” he said quietly, using finger quotes to emphasize what Benny said. I was just a little too dazed to keep going.  

Arriving at the house, the two police detectives saw Dean leaning against his—gorgeous—car, talking on the phone. They could just hear his conversation through the window glass as they pulled up beside the man.  

“No, Sammy, I won’t have time for dinner. I’ve got—listen, I’m in the middle of a job; I’ll call you later,” Dean said.  

Castiel and Benny stepped quietly out of their vehicle and headed towards the front of the door. Benny pulled a keyring out of his pocket. Castiel knew that the attached tag had the case number on it as well as the house address. The key had ended up on top of Castiel’s desk when they got back to the station and neither was too eager to put it away seeing as how they’d just be going back out again. It spent three days just sitting on the desk, mocking Castiel.  

Dean hung up his phone and put it in his back pocket. He followed the men up the three steps to the front door. Castiel kind of wanted to reach up and peel a piece of the flaking black paint off of the door, but he kept his hands to himself. He started to walk up the three steps to the door and turned to look at Dean.  

Dean locked eyes with Castiel, and all he could think was green. It clouded his judgment for a moment.  

Meeting the man’s blue eyes, Dean asked, “Do you ever sleep, Detective?”  

Castiel was confused. He must have even darker circles under his eyes than usual. Without missing a beat, or looking away from Dean, the man responded, “I scheduled a nap for a week from next Tuesday.” He tried for a smile that probably came off as a grimace. The men turned to look at Benny.  

Benny unlocked the door and stepped back to let the other men pass by. Dean’s hand brushed Castiel’s as they both moved to the door and there was that zing once again.  

Dean cleared his throat. “Personal space, Detective.”  

“Of course,” Castiel said taking a step back, “apologies.”  

Castiel watched as Dean walked into the house and admired his bowlegs as the man headed toward the safe. Benny whacked his arm but good and it woke Castiel up from his quick—but very steamy—daydream of how it would feel to have those bowlegs wrapped around his waist. He cleared his throat and kept his eyes up and away from Dean’s ass. What is wrong with me? Castiel asked himself. He was never so forward, especially toward an Omega who, it appeared, wanted nothing to do with him. (Even if they were True Mates.)  

Turning the corner, Castiel saw Dean lying on the floor on his stomach, toolbox open beside him. Castiel turned his head a little more to the right to see that, yes, Dean was using a stethoscope to work on the safe. He turned back to Benny who had taken up a spot near the counter, simply watching the proceedings. He smiled lightly at Castiel, having seen Dean do his job on cases before.  

Castiel could hear Dean muttering to himself as he spun the combination dial slowly. He made his way over to Benny, going to lean on the counter.  

“What exactly is--”  

“Keep it down, wouldja?” Dean interrupted, still using the stethoscope. He soon crawled up to a crouch and turned to the two detectives. “Okay, good news and bad news.”  

Castiel frowned and asked for the bad news first.  

“This damn thing clicks every other turn; it’s too old.”  

Benny asked for the good news.  

“If you two fine officers of the law care to look the other way, I can try another option,” Dean said with a cheeky grin.  

Castiel shouldn’t have found that smile endearing. What on earth could Dean possibly be talking about? He found out shortly when Dean pulled a small pouch out from his toolbox. Lockpicking tools.  

“I thought you were a locksmith, Dean. Shouldn’t you have more sophisticated tools?”  

Dean huffed a sigh before looking down to work his magic. “Yeah, Detective, I do. Just think of this as a special skill set and shut your trap.”   

The detective raised a thick black eyebrow. Benny reached over and laid a gentle hand on Castiel’s shoulder, keeping the man from launching into a lecture.  

“Aha!” Dean cried after just a couple of minutes. “Who wants the honors?” he asked, backing away.   

Benny stepped forward, grabbed the recessed handle, and pulled. The smell knocked Dean on his ass and caused everyone to begin coughing. A crumpled body lay inside.  

~~~~~  

Driving up to the house, Dean realized he was right: the house was white with black shutters. The orange lamplight from the night before actually made it look better. Dean could see that both the black and the white paint were peeling more than he had expected them to be. The house was still old, but it wasn’t well-cared for. Shame.  

Just as Dean began to get out of his beloved car, his phone rang.   

“’Sup, bitch!” Dean answered  

“Dean, you’re such a jerk,” his brother Sam replied. Dean could practically hear his brother’s eyeroll. “Listen, do you want to come out with Jess and me for dinner? It’s been a while since we all got together...”  

Sam and his wife Jess lived slightly less than an hour away from Dean so they weren’t able to see each other often, but he and Dean had gotten together just last weekend for beers.  

Dean heard the police car drive up next to him and turned.  

“No, Sammy, I won’t have time for dinner. I’ve got—listen, I’m in the middle of a job; I’ll call you later,” Dean said and hung up his phone.  

Dean watched as Benny and Cast—the detective—got out of the car. He wondered if the men had even gotten any rest between the botched job a few days ago and now. Castiel had dark circles under his eyes—darker than Dean had noticed the other day.  Since when do you care about his eyes?  

Meeting the man’s blue eyes, Dean asked, “Do you ever sleep, Detective?”  

Without missing a beat or looking away from Dean, the man responded, “I scheduled a nap for a week from next Tuesday.”  

Dean huffed a small laugh and gave the man a point for his sarcasm.  

As Benny began to unlock the door and step aside, Dean realized that Castiel was much too close for comfort. Dean’s hand brushed Castiel’s and there was a quick, but searing, pain in his shoulder once again.  

Dean cleared his throat. “Personal space, Detective.” The proximity of Cas—the detective—just sent his shoulder singing. He needed to be focused on the job, not his love life. Or lack thereof.  

“Of course,” Castiel said taking a step back, “apologies.”  

Dean stepped into the house and was nonplussed by the sparse décor. He hadn’t really paid any attention the other day. The dining table and rug were still pushed off to the side of the dining area/living room, giving Dean plenty of room to work. Opening his toolbox, he grabbed a set of latex gloves to preserve any evidence, and then he pulled out his trusty stethoscope.  

Dean could just hear Castiel in the background talking to Benny, “What exactly is--”  

“Keep it down, wouldja?” Dean interrupted, still using the stethoscope.   

He fiddled with the combination knob for several minutes before he crawled up to a crouch. He looked up at the detectives.  

“Okay, good news and bad news.”  

Castiel frowned and asked for the bad news first.  

“This damn thing clicks every other turn; it’s too old.”  

Benny asked for the good news.  

“If you two fine officers of the law care to look the other way, I can try another option,” Dean said with a cheeky grin.  

Benny huffed out a laugh and shook his head. Castiel was confused; his head tilting like a bird again. Dean refused to think it was cute. He set aside his stethoscope and began digging around in his toolbox. Down at the bottom, where they ended up because he didn’t often need them, were Dean’s old lockpicking tools.  

“I thought you were a locksmith, Dean. Shouldn’t you have more sophisticated tools?” the detective asked concernedly after Dean moved from the box to the safe.   

Dean huffed a sigh before looking down to work his magic. “Yeah, Detective, I do. Just think of this as a special skill set and shut your trap.” Okay, so Dean was still salty about the other day and that brief touch earlier had his new burn throbbing.   

“Aha!” Dean cried after just a couple of minutes. “Who wants the honors?” he asked, crab walking out of the way.   

Benny stepped forward, grabbed the recessed handle, and pulled. The smell knocked Dean on his ass and caused everyone to begin coughing. A crumpled body lay inside. Dean’s eyes grew huge.  

“What the fuck is that?” he asked.  

He heard the detective whisper, “Fuck”, before pulling out his cellphone and making a call. Within minutes, the house was swarming with police officers once again.   

Dean was quiet as he was fingerprinted, despite having to pull off his gloves to do so. He watched as Castiel really turned into Detective Novak, taking charge of the scene and barking orders. Dean refused to think it was hot. Benny walked over as the officer finished her job. Dean had forgotten to flirt with her, watching the detective stomp his way around the living room instead.  

“Well, this is fun, ain’t it, brotha’?” Benny asked, nonchalantly leaning against the counter beside Dean.  

“Ha, yeah, super fun.” Dean turned to look at the other man, wiping his hands clean. “Why aren’t you over there tellin’ people what to do? You always let Cas have all the fun?”  

Benny, about to say something snarky Dean was sure, stopped before looking Dean hard in the eye.  

“’Cas’, huh?” he said. Benny rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Well, that explains you followin’ his ev’ry move for the last hour.”  

Dean gaped for a moment before deciding that a well-placed middle finger would work better than any retort he could come up with. ‘ Cas’? What the hell, Winchester? Benny laughed and walked away.  Subconsciously, Dean began to rub the burn on his shoulder over his flannel. Castiel looked up and the two men stared at each other for what seemed like hours but was (according to Benny later) only about five minutes. Dean had to remind himself when the two stopped staring, that this wasn’t something he wanted.  

Chapter Text

When Castiel got home that night (Benny threatened his life if he didn’t go at least rest if not sleep), he had a few too many things on his mind to really relax, the first of which being Dean Winchester. The case should be forefront in his mind, especially with the new development, but he couldn’t help it.  

Castiel calmed himself by thinking that it would be at least a day or two before they were able to ID the body. They determined that the person was a young woman, but the rigor was such that the coroner had to take the body back to the morgue in its cramped state. It would be interesting to see how long it would take for all of the test results—toxicology and trace evidence especially—to come back.   

Dean had taken everything in stride and Castiel was impressed. Castiel was busy running a secondary investigation but he kept Dean in his periphery while he remained at the house. He watched as Dean and Benny spoke. At one point Dean flipped Benny off and the Cajun man laughed loudly, startling the other police officers for a moment. Castiel refused to be jealous.   

Castiel ordered from one of his regular takeout places and sat down on the couch with a beer. He let his head drop back and stared at the ceiling. Castiel wondered if he could get Dean to talk about the True Mate mark, perhaps go on a date, or— No, Castiel didn’t know if this was something he wanted. Dean certainly didn’t seem to want Castiel’s mark.  

He couldn’t think of anyone having gotten their True Mate brand removed, but he had heard of people ignoring it and moving on. Despite his few misgivings, Castiel didn’t think he could stand it if Dean just walked out of his life forever.  

The doorbell rang and Castiel went to answer it; he already had his tip money ready. Hell, at this point, his usual restaurant people were like family. Opening the door, Castiel didn’t recognize the new woman delivering his food.   

“Kung Pao chicken and broccoli?” the woman asked.  

Castiel smiled politely. “Yes, thank you.” He handed off the tip money and turned back to his living room.   

Closing the door, the smell of spices and ‘yum’ permeated the apartment quickly.  

He walked to the kitchen to put his food down, but for some reason, his appetite wasn’t what it was a few minutes ago. Something about the woman stuck in his mind. He opened the food container and saw a picture affixed to the top of the Styrofoam.   

In bright, glossy detail, stood Dean, in his blue and green flannel from today, leaning against his car and talking on the phone. He immediately called Benny.  

~~~~~  

As entertaining as it was to watch a live police investigation (not so much the being part of it, though), Dean was glad when he was cleared to pack up his things and leave the house. Benny said he would call Dean if they needed anything else from him. He sat in his car and waited as he was cleared to leave for a second time by one of the patrol officers. Dean still refused to think about how hot it was watching Castie—Detective Novak—taking charge of the scene.  

Once home, Dean called Sammy to placate his brother’s worrying. By the time he left the house, news vans and reporters had been parked all along the street. Dean was sure his brother caught at least a glimpse of him or his car if not his name and business address.   

“What the hell, Dean?” Sam exclaimed when Dean called.  

Dean pinched the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger and sighed.  

“I know, Sammy. It was freaky as hell, but I’m fine.”  

“Like hell you are, Dean; you could be traumatized or--”  

Dean rolled his eyes and pulled the phone away from his ear only to bring it back.   

“Sam, listen to me; I’m fine. I’ll talk to you later.”   

Dean hung up on Sam as he continued yelling through the phone.  

When Dean got home, despite the early afternoon time, he pulled a beer out of the fridge and downed it right there. He leaned back against his counter and sighed. What a fucking day...    

Dean spent the next few hours in his home office, detailing this latest invoice for the police. Should he charge extra for the body? Or the time that was wasted getting fingerprinted? Once finished, he headed to his shop and check in on Charlie, his best friend and associate.  

“Hey, Red, what’s up?” Dean asked upon entering the shop, dropping his toolbox down on the corner of the reception desk.  

“Dude,” Charlie replied seriously, “you’re on the news for finding a body in a safe. What the hell do you think is up?”  

Dean rolled his eyes at her and sat down in a visitor’s chair.  

“It’s not like it was fresh, Charlie. I opened a safe for the police; I wasn’t out on a normal job.”  

“And that’s supposed to be comforting? I’ve been fielding calls from reporters all afternoon.” The phone chose that moment to ring. Charlie picked it up and immediately slammed it back down. “I also took the liberty of changing the shop’s address online so they wouldn’t show up here. I thought about changing the number, but it’s actually been really satisfying to slam the phone down.” The woman smiled a little evilly.   

Dean rolled his eyes again and decided to do some physical work. He stood up to remove his flannel; it was a favorite and he didn’t want to get grease on it. Charlie chose that moment to look up from slamming the phone down again.  

“What in Hermione’s name is that ?” she exclaimed, pointing to Dean’s arm.  

Dean looked down at himself and saw that the sleeve of his t-shirt had rucked up and uncovered his burn. Shit...  

“Uh--”  

“Uh-uh. What the hell is that and why didn’t you lead with meeting your True Mate? Why didn’t you call me? When did it happen? How did it happen? Did--”  

Dean held up a hand to stop Charlie’s onslaught of questions. He sighed and decided what and how much he wanted to tell.  

“Fine,” Dean said moving over to the desk. He raised the sleeve of his shirt up higher to show the full handprint. It was still tender and the random shocks he’d been getting all day being around the detective had it feeling raw. Did it ever stop hurting?  

“It happened the other day when I first went out for this job, alright? Benny’s partner touched my arm and the rest is history.”  

Charlie looked at Dean with wide eyes at first and then squinted at the man.  

“That was the lamest True Mate story I have ever heard.”  

“What do you want, Charles? For me to tell you there were actual sparks flying around the room? That the dude is the hottest person I’ve ever seen? That I don’t want this stupid brand?” Dean took a breath and was about to apologize for his outburst when said person burst through the shop door.  

“Dean!” Castiel yelled upon entering the lobby. Benny was right behind him.  

“What the hell?” Dean and Charlie asked at the same time.   

“Dean, you need to go into protective custody right now,” Castiel said, coat swirling around his legs as he strode to the reception desk.  

Dean looked back and forth between Castiel and Benny.  

“Why would I do that? I helped find a fucking dead body. What does that have to do with protective custody?”  

Charlie was watching the men like she would a tennis match, eyes bouncing from one person to the other. She kind of wished she had popcorn. She already knew Benny so, process of elimination, the other man was the partner. Dean’s True Mate was kind of dreamy...  

“You’re in protective custody because of this.” Castiel pulled the picture from his takeout container out of his coat pocket and held it out.  

Dean watched the man and hesitantly reached out for the piece of paper. His eyes widened when he realized what he was looking at and then his eyes darted to Castiel’s.  

“This is from today. Did a reporter--”  

“No, this was sent to me personally. Someone is interested in you in conjunction with this case, and while we find out who, you’re officially in protective custody.”  

“What, just because I’m wearing your mark means you’re the one in charge?”  

“I am the one in charge,” Castiel growled.  

The two men squared off in front of the desk, each glaring at the other. Sparks of a different kind circled the two men.  

“You’re not my favorite person today,” Dean said angrily (petulantly), pointing his finger into Castiel’s chest. Screw Benny for putting him in this position to begin with.  

“I’m probably not your favorite person any day,” Castiel replied tartly, taking a step closer to Dean.  

“Listen here, Alpha , this wasn’t my choice, alright? So, no, you’re not gonna be a favorite to work with.”  

“Regardless, Omega , we’re working together until this is solved.”  

“Oh goodie,” Dean said, mustering up as much sarcasm as he could.  

“Y’all. Really?” Charlie piped up from behind the reception desk. “This is like fanfiction come to life.”  

Dean watched as Castiel looked toward Charlie and tilted his head. “I don’t understand that reference,” he said stoically.   

Dean rolled his eyes and walked away. He slammed the door to his office and everyone heard the lock click into place. Dean could still hear the conversation through the door.  

“I’d let him go if I were you,” Charlie said.  

“He’s my mate.”  

“Dude,” Charlie began, “please tell me you aren’t one of those meathead, knothead, Alphas that’s perpetually stuck in the 1950’s thinking their Omega mate should stay home barefoot and pregnant.”  

Dean snorted in the comfort of his office.  

“Of course not! I meant that Dean is my mate, ergo we should be discussing this situation rather than sweeping it under the rug.”  

“Yeah, good luck with that,” Charlie replied. “Dean doesn’t talk about emotions and feelings under the best of circumstances.”  

“I’m not sweeping anything under the rug, asshole!” Dean yelled from his office.   

He swept a pile of invoices off of his desk in frustration and the papers went flying around the room. Dean leaned over to put his head in his hands. First, he gets a True Mate, and then he gets threatened. Great day all around.  

Chapter Text

Castiel sat in one of the visitor’s chairs for two hours, trying to wait out Dean’s temper tantrum. Benny left after half an hour, telling Castiel good luck and to keep in touch. Charlie kept looking at the man over the top of the reception desk.  

More than once, Castiel sighed, got up, and paced for a while. He considered knocking down the office door but thought better of it. Finally, Dean walked out of the office with a duffle bag slung over his shoulder.  

Castiel stood up immediately upon hearing the man unlock the door.   

“Are you ready to leave, Dean?” he asked, forgetting his moratorium on using Dean’s first name until they got to know each other better (earlier panic notwithstanding).  

“Yeah, I am,” Dean began and pointed his finger at Castiel once again. “But you’re not coming with me. Where’s Benny?” he asked, looking around the lobby.  

“Benny left a couple of hours ago, Dean,” Charlie said quietly. She didn’t really want to get in the middle of things, but her best friend was being targeted for some reason and needed to be protected.  

“I’m staying with you, Dean; like it or not,” Castiel said firmly.   

Castiel would protect anyone in this position, but he felt even more protective of his True Mate. He figured he could live without a True Mate, but like hell would he let it be from anything other than Dean saying so in his own words. He watched Dean’s face morph from anger to resigned acceptance. It took a while for the change to happen.   

“Fine,” Dean said reluctantly stepping forward. “But I’m not going into hiding or whatever; I have a business to run.”  

“Dean that is--”  

“Nonnegotiable, Cas.”   

The two men stared at each other, barely a foot’s worth of distance between them.   

Charlie cleared her throat and both men turned to look at her. She quickly held her hands up in innocence. “I just wanted to know if you wanted your schedule for the rest of the weekend?”  

“Yes.”  

“No.”  

Dean and Castiel spoke at the same time, turning to look at each other again.  

“Riiight,” Charlie said suspiciously. “How about I email you and y’all can figure it out from there.”  

“Fine.”  

“No.”  

Dean squinted his eyes as he continued to stare down Castiel. “The hell you mean ‘no’?”  

“You shouldn’t work right now, Dean,” Castiel said seriously. “You’re in danger and don’t--”  

“Look, in danger or not, I’m supposed to have police protection, right? I’m supposed to be fine, right? Then do your job.” Dean walked past Castiel and shoulder-checked the man.  

“Dammit!” Dean yelled, grabbing his shoulder and looking over at Castiel.  

Castiel felt the heat from Dean’s burn and it echoed down to his toes. He tried to resist, he really did, but Castiel reached out anyway and reached over to put his hand on Dean’s shoulder.  

Dean jerked out of the way. He was already pissed off beyond belief; he didn’t care to be in pain, too.  

“You know that’s because the bond isn’t complete, right?” Charlie said from behind her desk.  

Both Dean and Castiel turned to her, questions in their eyes.  

Charlie swallowed and spoke up again. “Your arm’s just gonna keep burning, Dean. Y’know at least until the two of you mate for real. It’s a claim, you know? You’re next to each other and you’re both gonna feel it...” Charlie trailed off.  

Dean scoffed and walked off.   

Castiel closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He looked back over at Charlie and told her, “I’ll keep him safe.” He rushed out the door to catch up with Dean.  

~~~~~  

Dean wished he could have slammed the door to the shop. He had to settle for slamming the door to the car, for which he apologized to her; Baby didn’t deserve that kind of treatment.  

He was about to start the car when the passenger door opened and Castiel climbed in.  

Dean shook his head. “Oh, hell no. You--”  

“Benny left hours ago, Dean. You are my transportation.” He almost looked like he was sorry.  

“Just what do you think you’re doin’ here, Cas?” Dean asked, not thinking about how this was the second time he’d called the detective by a nickname. He may or may not have blushed.   

“Keeping you safe, Dean,” the other man replied, looking out the windshield.  

“Whatever,” Dean threw the car in gear and took off down the street toward home. “Where do you live, I’ll drop you off on the way.”  

“I’m staying with you, Dean, for as long as it takes for this to be resolved.”  

Dean rolled his eyes. “Don’t you need clothes or something?” he asked, not really caring. If he could drop Castiel off somewhere and then leave him there, Dean would be a happy man.  

Castiel gestured to a duffle bag in the floor. Dean had completely failed to notice it during all this time. He rolled his eyes again. Fuck this shit, Dean thought and continued driving to his house. The men didn’t speak for the twenty minutes it took to get across town.   

Dean was very proud that he had his own business. The fact that he had a commute didn’t bother him at all; he’d walk the fifteen miles from home to work without complaint if need be. Dean had owned Winchester Locks for almost ten years and wouldn’t jeopardize it for anything. Learning how to pick locks at an early age was an advantage, but eventually Dean became interested in the mechanisms themselves. He began to steal door knobs from some of the motels that he, his brother, and his dad stayed at so that he could take them apart and study the locks. He learned quickly that motel locks were shit and wouldn’t stop anyone from breaking into a room if they wanted to (which Dean did on occasion).  

Once Dean understood the basics of locks, he was able to lend his services to those same motels (for a price), and from there he began Winchester Locks. If somehow some of the locks he fixed had been broken on purpose and he just happened to be nearby to fix them, well, that was just good luck. Dean did what he could to make sure Sam had food on the table, clothes on his back, and a safe place to sleep. Stealing and hustling, however, often led to being arrested, or, in the case of one officer in Little Rock, Arkansas, ‘arrested’ which meant that Dean did community service for an indefinite period of time.  

When Dean was fifteen and Sam was eleven, their dad died in a drunk driving accident...that he caused...while the boys were in the car. Lying in the hospital with broken bones, lacerations, and bruises, the boys had one consistent visitor: the same cop with whom Dean had multiple run-ins. The man’s wife was a social worker and, when the boys were released from the hospital, they went to live with the Singers. Sam was able to stay in one place to go to school, and Dean finally had an adult to look up to. His interest in locks, however, never faded.  

Upon arrival at Dean’s home, when he stopped the car, he just sat and stared at the closed garage door. He could feel Castiel’s gaze on the side of his face. The man was worried about him, hell Benny was worried about him, but Dean didn’t feel like that warranted a babysitter.  

“I don’t need a babysitter,” Dean told Castiel as they sat in the driveway.  

“I am not a babysitter, Dean. Consider me a bodyguard, if you must.”  

Dean turned his head and looked into Castiel’s kind— kind? How can you tell he has kind eyes, Winchester?-- eyes and said, “I don’t need one of those either.”  

With that, he opened the garage, pulled the car inside, and opened the car door. He closed it in a respectful manner and headed for the back door. He was finishing punching in his alarm code when he felt a tingle at the back of his neck.  

Dean sighed. “Personal space, Cas.” Was he going to have to repeat this request constantly?  

Castiel remained right where he was. “Apologies, Dean, but I’m waiting for you to open the door so that I may sweep the house and make sure that it is empty.”  

Dean turned around quickly and found he was nose to nose with the detective. Both men sucked in a surprised breath, but neither backed away.  

“No one is going to get past my alarms and locks, man; give it a rest.”  

“Consider it part of the job description,” Castiel said as he pushed past Dean, leaving the man gaping after him. “Please stay where you are.”  

Like hell , Dean thought, making his way into the kitchen. He was starving, having forgotten to eat in all the craziness of the day. Leftover lasagna sounded good, and lookie there, there was enough for two meals. The bodyguard would be able to eat, too. Standing at the microwave and wondering if all of this made him Whitney Houston, Castiel came back into the room.  

“I asked you to stay at the doorway, Dean.”  

Dean rolled his eyes as he turned to face Castiel. “And I didn’t listen; I’m hungry.” The microwave beeped. “I’m guessing you’re back in here because your sweep wasn’t worth shit?”  

Castiel frowned—absolutely not making Dean want to kiss the man’s furrowed forehead—and crossed his arms, the trench coat stretching tightly over his biceps.  

“Dean, I wish you would take this seriously. First, we find a dead body, and then, I get a candid picture of you all on the same day. I happen to take your safety seriously, so if you’ll--”  

“Why not Benny? Huh? We’ve been best friends for years; he could just as easily take care of this,” Dean said, getting more and more frustrated.  

Castiel, arms still crossed but looking less frowny told Dean, “It’s because we have a profound bond, Dean. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I weren’t the one to watch over you.”  

“You’re kidding, right?”  

“Why would I kid about this, Dean? You are my True Mate, and--”  

“And we’re done with this.” Dean handed Castiel a plate of reheated lasagna. “Eat up.”  

Dean didn’t want to discuss True Mates or profound bonds. He didn’t want those things, period. Dean was not a praying man, but tonight he prayed that all of this would blow over quickly.  

Chapter Text

Castiel turned over for the fifth time in his borrowed bed. It wasn’t that the bed wasn’t comfortable, but there was something about being ensconced in the scent of Dean that made him antsy—in a good way.   

When he first entered the home, he was hit with the smell of apples—crisp and tart, sweet, savory with hints of cinnamon and honey—it was the best torture he could think of: he’d be in this home, smelling his Omega for an undetermined period of time. His mouth watered as he passed through each room in the house. At Dean’s bedroom, Castiel inhaled deeply, making himself dizzy.   

He had to keep reminding himself that his stay was temporary. He had to keep reminding himself that Dean didn’t seem to want him. The rejection stung, but he wasn’t sure why; he didn’t have room in his life for a True Mate either.  

Dinner was...interesting. The two men ate sitting at a square, dark-stained oak table in the dining area with benches for seating on either side. They ate in silence. Castiel tried making conversation, tried thanking Dean for the meal, but the man wouldn’t say anything back. Castiel stopped trying. After dinner, Castiel went to get his duffle bag out of the car and came back into an empty kitchen.   

“Dean?” he called.  

Castiel could hear Dean’s voice from down the hall. He sounded strained.  

“I’m in here.”  

During his sweep through the house, Castiel had gotten the layout of the house, and a brief glance in each of the rooms told him their meaning. An office, a spare bedroom, bathroom, laundry room, master bedroom, and bathroom. The first door he came to had a desk light on in it, but it housed a desk, several file cabinets, and at least five mismatched bookcases. From Castiel’s brief look, he saw everything from kids’ books to Calculus for Dummies along the shelves.  

“You comin’ or what?” Dean called from further down the hall.  

“’Or what’,” Castiel murmured.   

Continuing down the hall he saw the bathroom and laundry room again before arriving at the spare bedroom. Dean was putting new sheets on the bed.  

“Dean, you don’t have--”  

“My brother and his wife were the last to sleep in here; stale moose stink probably isn’t relaxing.”  

Stale...moose...stink?  

Castiel cleared his throat. “Can I help you with anything?”  

Dean looked up from tucking in the flat sheet and paused in his ministrations. “Knock yourself out,” he said, coming around the bed and exiting the room with the old linens. Out of the corner of his eye, Castiel watched as Dean dropped them in the laundry room.  

Castiel kept his eyes on the bed as he heard the other bedroom door slam. He had known it would be an interesting night at that moment, but, tossing and turning hours later really cemented that fact. Castiel got up, planning to go to the bathroom, if not go lay out on the couch for a change of scenery. He crept quietly, not knowing if Dean was a light sleeper or not. Opening the door had him bumping into a firm, naked chest. It was like being electrocuted. He reached out to steady himself and grabbed...a shoulder.   

Castiel heard Dean hiss and immediately let go.  

“Stop doing that, man!” Dean whispered angrily.  

“It’s not on purpose, I assure you,” Castiel replied.   

“I wasn’t--”  

“I just--”  

Both men cleared their throats and, together, walked down the hall to the living room.  

~~~~~  

Dean couldn’t sleep. Down the hall was an Alpha that was not a family member or a close friend. It made Dean twitchy. At dinner, Castiel— the detective, dammit-- had moaned with nearly every bite he took, obviously taking great joy in eating leftover lasagna with cold spots in it. Dean thought of his adoptive father naked to will away a boner...more than once.  

Everything about this situation was fucked up. Obviously, whoever gave Castiel the picture wanted to freak him out—done—and get him sidetracked from the cases of theft and murder—also done—but did not intend to harm Dean. Why would they? He was a locksmith for Christ’s sake. All he did was open the safe; it wasn’t like he helped bury the body and now someone had to shut him up.  

Not only that, but it was like the universe was pushing the mates together. Every damn time Dean was near Castiel, his shoulder would throb or burn or sometimes both. Every damn time they accidentally touched, it felt like an electric shock went through his body. And damn Charlie for pointing out that all this would continue until they mated for real. Dean didn’t want a mate!   

After dinner, Dean went to change the sheets on the guest bed; he didn’t know why, sheets were sheets. Castiel had come in and, rather than stare into those blue eyes and get lost for an hour, Dean handed the task over to the bodyguard. Certainly, he was capable of that.  

In his bedroom, Dean changed for bed, soft pajama pants and no shirt despite the cold air outside. It was still relatively early so Dean put on Netflix and watched Dr. Sexy until he couldn’t stand the UST between Dr. Sexy and Dr. Piccolo anymore. He had to get up and do something, maybe grab a beer and sit in the quiet of the kitchen.  

He actually tip-toed out of his room, not knowing if Castiel was a light sleeper (though why he should care baffled Dean). At the bend in the hallway, he knocked into something solid and naked and muscled, and almost fell back on his ass before a hand clasped his shoulder to keep him upright.   

The pain in his shoulder was searing and he hissed, "Stop doing that, man!”   

“It’s not on purpose, I assure you,” Castiel replied.   

“I wasn’t--”  

“I just--”  

Both men cleared their throats and, together, walked down the hall to the living room.   

Dean turned first and went into the kitchen turning on the overhead light before going to get a beer. He pulled out two. Turning around he met Castiel’s eyes and couldn’t look away from his body. Those baggy suits and trench coat did absolutely nothing for the man before him. Castiel was well-muscled, but not chunky with it. He was in neon orange boxer briefs that left nothing to the imagination. He had a small mole near his left nipple and a thin trail of hair leading down from his belly button.  

Dean knew he was no slouch in the looks department, but he did try to suck in his tummy a little bit. It should have been awkward, the two men staring at each other while they were practically naked, but neither could turn away. When Castiel’s eyes met Dean’s again, he barely stuck his tongue out to lick at his lip. Castiel’s eyes darted down quickly and then came back up to eye level. Both men blushed.   

Dean had to smirk. Castiel retaliated by lifting an eyebrow. Fuck that’s hot . Dean wiped the smirk off of his face and cleared his throat. He stepped forward with the beer bottle extended before him.  

“Beer?” he asked.  

Castiel, too, cleared his throat. “Thank you, Dean.”   

His voice was deep and husky, making Dean glad he was hidden behind the counter. Bobby naked. Bobby naked. Bobby naked! Yeah, it wasn’t like both of them were in the kitchen practically naked or anything. Nope. Dean and Castiel awkwardly drank their beers, neither of them making eye contact but staring openly at the other when they were turned away. Castiel finished his beer first, practically chugging the last third. Dean watched carefully as the man’s throat worked to swallow the liquid. It led to very dirty thoughts that had Dean chugging the rest of his beer, too.  

“Thank you, Dean,” Castiel said, setting the bottle down on the counter.  

Maybe he’d make the first move to the bedroom and Dean wouldn’t have to do it. Only, they both stood at the counter staring at each other. From this distance, Dean could make out tiny flecks of sky blue in Castiel’s eyes. Dean’s shoulder picked that time to burn, only this time it was bearable, almost like when a heating pad gets just this side of hot and everything in you just sort of melts. Dean let out a quiet gasp; this was the calmest sensation Dean had felt from his mark since he first got it.   

Castiel watched as Dean reached up to hold his shoulder again.  

“Uh,” Dean began, “it’s not hurting for once. It’s more like a, uh, warmth. Or something.”  

Dean watched as Castiel’s eyes grew dark and wide. Yep, too much. Operation Get Me the Fuck Out of Here is a go. Dean cleared his throat and rushed out of the kitchen, leaving Castiel to turn the light out. He switched out his regular briefs for heat briefs before he went to bed. Dean expected some very steamy dreams and hoped that the briefs would contain most if not all of the smell of slick and arousal.  

Chapter Text

Castiel woke up with his dick harder than it had ever been before. The man let out a lusty groan and ground his hips down into the mattress seeking some friction. Last night was...well, it was something out of his dreams is what it was. Dean, half-naked drinking from a beer bottle, those plush pink lips curved around...Castiel came with a quiet groan and then cursed himself for having such little control. This wasn’t even his bed for crying out loud.  

Once able to do so, Castiel got out of bed and found his bottle of spray blockers. He sprayed the bed liberally and used his shirt from the day before to clean up his mess. The smell would linger, but hopefully, it’d be lessened. He put on a pair of sweats to make up for the fact that his boxer briefs were a mess. He grabbed a new set of clothes, jeans, a t-shirt, and definitely new boxer briefs, and headed out into the hall. He carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door and went into the bathroom to take a shower. He breathed a sigh of relief that he made it in without seeing Dean.   

In the kitchen, Dean was already up with a cup of coffee and looking at his phone. He was in red and black flannel today.  

He glanced up and said, “Mornin’, sunshine.”  

Castiel didn’t know how to react, so he nodded, grabbed the mug on the counter, and filled it to the brim with the elixir of life. At least his mate was a coffee drinker. No, I can’t think like that. Dean is not my mate. He sat down on the opposite side of the table as he had at dinner the night before.  

“Charlie sent my schedule for the weekend,” Dean began, “I actually don’t have anything scheduled until noon, so I’ll be on-call until then.”  

After chugging the rest of his coffee, Castiel was slightly more alert when he asked, “Do you not have other employees to help?”  

Dean sat his phone down and took a sip of his coffee.  

“I don’t; just me and Charlie. She’s off on weekends,” Dean shrugged. He took his cup to the sink and gestured to the coffee pot. “You want more?”  

Dean came over with the coffee pot and poured the cup, putting his hand on Castiel’s shoulder for a change. Castiel felt the familiar zing from contact with Dean. Afterward, Dean headed to his office to work. Castiel sat alone in the kitchen wondering why he was so concerned with Dean’s schedule.  

Castiel busied himself with the case. He retrieved his computer from his duffle bag and set up a desk space on the kitchen table. He checked in with the other detectives, but no additional information had come through on their Jane Doe, despite it being a high-priority case. Castiel made a note to call the medical examiner later; he wasn’t above bugging people to get results.  

Next, Castiel looked into the photo of Dean that he scanned into the case file. It would have been so easy to dismiss it as a hoax from some reporter who had an issue with Castiel, but they hadn’t arrived until almost an hour after the photo was taken. Castiel wondered if Dean would take him home long enough to check his mail for additional pictures or clues.  

~~~~~  

Dean woke up to the smell of Alpha arousal and groaned, rubbing his eyes with the heels of his hands. He was hard and aching and his shoulder burned. He got up out of bed, nearly moaning at the friction of his underwear and pants against his dick. He quickly made his way to the bathroom before stripping. The heat briefs were soaked. Dean was glad he had the foresight the night before to put them on. A hot, steamy shower (of every definition) was called for.  

“Mornin’, Sunshine,” Dean said after a pause.  

He gave Castiel a run-down of his day and was surprised that Castiel was surprised by the fact that he didn’t have more employees. The business wasn’t booming , but he did more than alright. Maybe someday he’d hire someone else, but he and Charlie worked well enough on their own, so why bother?  

Dean took his cup to the sink and gestured to the coffee pot. “You want more?”  

Touching Castiel had been a bad idea. That familiar buzz went all the way to his dick and he barely bit back a moan. Dean couldn’t wait to escape to his office.  

Three hours and three episodes of Dr. Sexy later (hey, Charlie set his computer up with Netflix, and by gods he was gonna put it to use), Dean started loading up his gear to go on the one and only job on his schedule for the day. He headed into the kitchen with his duffle bag of random crap he might need that wasn’t already in his toolbox. He found Castiel hunched over a laptop typing quickly. It looked like an email from Dean’s point of view several feet away.  

“You don’t have to sneak around in your own house, Dean.”  

Dean rolled his eyes.  

“Says the man who has snuck up on me multiple times and is just there when I turn around. Maybe you need a bell.”  

Castiel huffed a laugh and began to shut down the computer and gather what files he had brought with him.  

“I’m ready when you are, Detective,” Dean said heading to the back door that led to the garage.  

Dean opened the trunk and threw the duffle in beside his toolbox. He shut it just as Castiel came down the stairs. Dean had another opportunity to admire the way his t-shirt pulled across his chest and the way his jeans hugged his thick thighs. Dean had almost choked on his coffee earlier, seeing Castiel with his hair fucked six ways to Sunday, looking sleepy, and barefoot in search of coffee. Now he got to look without seeming like he was staring too hard.  

The two men rode quietly to Dean’s appointment: a woman who had finally left her ex and wanted more-than-standard locks installed on her doors. It took Dean about an hour with Castiel talking the woman through the process of getting a restraining order if she wished. He handed her his card in case she needed anything. The woman hugged each of the men and thanked them profusely.  

“Not bad, Cas,” Dean said when they got in the car.   

“Not bad?”  

Dean looked over at Castiel incredulously.   

“Yeah, ‘not bad’. You told the lady all the police aspects of keeping her ex away from her and she seemed relieved. So, not bad.”  

Castiel was frowning when Dean looked over at him next.  

“I was just doing my job. I--”  

“Yeah, well, it’s cops like you that make all the difference, man.” Dean shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “My, uh, my dad is like that. Was like that when he was a beat cop.”  

Castiel nodded. “That’s right, you’re Captain Singer’s son.”  

Dean nodded and stared ahead. Castiel didn’t need to know about his past.  

Chapter Text

Castiel and Dean went by the shop before heading back to Dean’s house, finding Charlie, fingers flying, sitting at the reception desk. Dean didn’t even blink.  

“Hey, Red,” he said as he walked in, not even concerned that she was working on a Saturday when she didn’t have to.  

Dean got a grunt in response and rolled his eyes. Castiel sat down in the visitor’s chair from the day before. He watched as Charlie furiously typed, completely in her element (whatever or wherever that was). Castiel was impressed. A few minutes later, Dean came back out of his office sans duffle bag.  

“Come on, Detective,” Dean said as he locked the door.  

Castiel stood as Dean walked past him. On the sidewalk, Castiel frowned and looked back toward the shop.  

“She’s fine, Cas,” Dean said without looking at him. “Come on, we’re burnin’ daylight!”  

Castiel climbed into the car. “I thought you were done for the day.”  

“Yeah; don’t mean I ain’t got stuff to do.”  

‘Stuff to do’ ended up being grocery shopping. The two men butted heads on just about everything that Dean put in the cart.  

“Ketchup is not a vegetable, Dean.”  

“Oh, my God! Cas, there is no way in hell I’m eating kale.”  

“It’s a fruit, Dean, surely you’ve heard of them.”  

“Bite me, Cas.”  

They turned a corner and met an older woman looking at the cereal selections. She smiled at the men and asked, “How long have you two been together?”  

Both Castiel and Dean froze. One week, Castiel thought. Before he could say anything, Dean began talking to the woman.  

“Oh, no, ma’am, we’re not, uh, we’re just friends,” he said kindly and with a smile, just a touch of a waver in his voice.  

Castiel looked over at the man with a slight smile on his face. Dean was clever in a lot of ways, but the little old lady wasn’t buying his bullshit and Castiel could tell.  

“Mm-hm,” she replied and then winked at Castiel.  

Both men blushed.  

“Why did she think we were together anyway?” Dean whispered after they had moved past the woman.  

“Well, Dean, we do share a--”  

“Don’t, Cas,” Dean said with finality and drove the cart around to the next aisle.  

Outside, the men began loading the groceries into the trunk. Castiel continued to think about the woman in the store.  

“When are we going to talk about the elephant in the room?” Castiel asked casually.  

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Dean replied, putting his groceries away.  

Castiel walked up directly behind Dean, close enough to touch, but not daring to make that move.  

Dean spun around, having closed the trunk, and nearly ran into Castiel.  

“We’ve talked about this, Cas; personal space.”   

Dean’s eyes bore into Castiel’s as the man stepped back, partially holding his hands up in surrender. It didn’t go unnoticed that Dean avoided the topic. The man stormed back around the car and got into the driver’s seat, nearly slamming the car door again.  

Castiel knew they needed to talk about their True Mate status, but he was unsure how unless Dean agreed to cooperate. He wasn’t sure about having Dean as his True Mate (although the man was attractive and by all appearances, a wonderful man); Castiel was conflicted. He thought that if he were just given a chance to speak freely, both men could come to an understanding.   

Cas came around the car and opened the passenger-side door and sat down. He had planned to ask Dean if they could talk, but Dean interrupted him.  

“You ready, princess?” Dean groused.  

Castiel simply looked over at Dean with an eyebrow raised. Dean rolled his eyes and started the car.   

“Your eyes are going to stick like that,” Castiel mumbled, looking out the windshield.  

Castiel could see that Dean whipped his head over to look at him. Dean had the tiniest of smirks on his face. The man cleared his throat and turned forward again. Castiel considered it a win.  

Back at the house, Castiel assisted Dean with putting the groceries away, but neither said a word. When finished, Dean fled back to his bedroom. Castiel expected him to stay back there all afternoon and night, but the man came back out a little later in sweats and a t-shirt. He started pulling random items from the cabinets and mixing them all together.  

“It’s meatloaf, not rocket science,” Dean finally ground out.  

“I thought it might be. I’ve never seen it made before,” Castiel said almost absently.  

“How have you never seen meatloaf made before?” Dean asked incredulously.   

Castiel shrugged. “I never had the occasion. The cook didn’t tolerate children in her kitchen.”  

“’Cook’?” Dean’s eyes widened as he put the meat into a pan.  

“Yes, ‘cook’. Our family was quite well-off.”  

“How the hell did you become a cop then?”   

“Cas?” Dean asked quietly.  

Castiel cleared his throat and looked up. He really didn’t want to recount this story, but Dean had a right to know. Blue eyes met green.  

“My sister was kidnapped and murdered when we were young. As the only Omega child of a prominent businessman, she was an easy target. From there, I wanted to be able to help other families find answers so they wouldn’t have to suffer,” Castiel said quietly. “I was cut off from my family’s money when I graduated high school and let them know that I wanted to pursue a criminal justice degree and eventually become a police officer.”  

The oven dinged before either man could say anything else, and then the doorbell sounded after Dean had the food in the oven. Castiel was on his feet in an instant, kneeling just for a second to grab the gun strapped at his ankle, and practically ran to the door to see who it was.  

~~~~~  

Dean was frustrated and he tried to work through it in the kitchen. Once home, groceries unloaded and put away, Dean went back to his room to change into sweats and a well-loved, well-worn AC/DC t-shirt (not the same one he met Castiel in... that one was buried somewhere deep in his laundry basket). He tried to keep his mind clear; Dean didn’t want to think about the grocery store. He failed.  

How dare that old bat insinuate that he and Cas—the detective—were together? Did they act like they were together? Did they look like they were together? Psh, hell no on both counts. Dean ignored Castiel as he went into the kitchen and began pulling out pans and spices. He barely noticed Castiel pulling out one of the counter stools and sitting down. His nose twitched as it caught something a lot darker and a lot more enticing than Italian seasoning. Dean refused to look up though.  

Castiel sat quietly; Dean could feel the man’s eyes on him the entire time he portioned beef and mixed together ingredients. He told himself that the blush he was working up was actually him getting flushed from working the ground beef, breadcrumbs, egg, and milk together.  

After hearing Castiel’s story, Dean’s hand twitched where it sat on the counter. As he lifted it to put on Castiel’s in a sign of sympathy, the oven dinged and Dean cleared his throat before turning to put the meatloaf into the oven. Neither man spoke for a few minutes. Dean kept thinking over and over about what he would have done if Sammy had been kidnapped and murdered, or what Sammy would have had to deal with if the situation were reversed.  

The doorbell startled them both. Castiel was off of his stool and over at the door quickly. Dean watched as he pulled a gun from an ankle holster he didn’t even know about and Castiel held it close to his body as he checked the peephole.   

“Dean, there is a very large man with long hair and a shorter woman with wavy blonde hair at the door,” Castiel said clinically.  

Dean sighed and walked over to the door.   

“Stand down, Rambo; it’s just my brother and his wife.”  

Once in the door, Sam and Jess wasted no time in coming through the door and grabbing Dean in a hug.  

“You just fell off the face of the earth man!” Sam cried.  

“It’s been two days, Sam! We’re not up each other’s asses that much are we? That I have to call or text you every couple of hours to make sure you know I’m alive?”  

“Boys, that’s enough. Dean, Sam was worried when he hadn’t heard any more from you about finding the...body yesterday. Apparently, you were supposed to call him back?” Jess, always the voice of reason, explained. She looked over Dean’s shoulder. “And who is this?” she asked with a smile and a look in her eye.  

Dean turned around quickly, hoping like hell that Castiel had put his gun away. Castiel was simply standing behind Dean, hands in his pockets and smiling an odd smile. Dean tilted his head and scrunched his eyebrows in confusion. What’s he playing at?  

“ Detective Castiel Novak, ma’am,” Castiel said politely and held his hand out to shake the woman’s hand.  

“Novak? Like the Novak that was with Dean when the body was found?” Sam interrupted, looking suspicious.  

“The very same,” Castiel said, putting his hand back into his pocket.  

“Ease up, Sasquatch. Cas is my bodyguard for the next couple days, no big.” Dean turned back to the kitchen when he realized his mistake.  

“Bodyguard?” Sam and Jess yelled.  

“And True Mate,” Castiel interjected. “Just F.Y.I.” That little shit.  

Dinner for two became dinner for four. Dean and Castiel explained the bodyguard situation and Castiel explained the True Mate situation. Dean sat with his arms crossed through the entire rundown.  

“I wanna see!” Jess said excitedly, pointing at Dean’s shoulder.  

Dean rolled his eyes (no, they would not stick like that, thank you very much) and then rolled up the t-shirt sleeve to show off his new handprint.  

Surprisingly, dinner was a success. The meatloaf and sides tasted great (if Castiel’s moans were anything to go by) and conversation flowed. Dean bragged about his smart lawyer little brother and smart nurse sister-in-law, recounting how the two had met while at Stanford.  

“And then--”  

“Dean, you are smart as well,” Castiel said quietly.  

Dean’s laughter ended and his smile dimmed. “Nah, not like these two. Excuse me.” Dean got up to take everything into the kitchen to load the dishwasher. Jess soon joined him.  

“Sorry about just barging in, Dean; Sam really was worried,” she said.  

Dean shrugged as he scrubbed a spot off of the loaf pan. “’S fine, Jess.”  

Jess grabbed the pan and put it in the dishwasher to get Dean to stop moving for a minute.   

“So, True Mate?”  

“Ugh, I really don’t want to talk about it, Jess.”  

“Fine. But I want details eventually.”  

The two turned to the kitchen table and watched as Sam and Castiel were hunched over the table talking. Dean figured they were probably plotting how to keep Dean safe and sound. Damn brothers and damn ma—bodyguards.  

Chapter Text

Sunday was quiet. After the unexpected guests the night before, Dean and Castiel tried to stay out of each other’s way. There wasn’t another gathering for beer in the kitchen after Sam and Jess left, for which Castiel was grateful; he didn’t think he could handle seeing Dean like that again without seriously jeopardizing things between them. That day, Dean did housework while Castiel sat with his laptop at the kitchen table.  

There was no new information from the medical examiner’s office, despite Castiel’s two calls that morning. The doctor threatened to go to Benny instead of Castiel if he didn’t stop calling. Castiel figured then at least someone would get information regardless. He still stopped calling.  

Castiel really should run home sometime to check his mail and see if any more pictures had been dropped off for him. He was beginning to get antsy not knowing what would happen next. Three months on this case and there seemed to have been wrenches thrown in from the beginning with the dead fencer, the dead woman in the safe, and a threat on Dean’s life. (Well, the threat hadn’t been confirmed yet, but it was certainly disconcerting to get a picture of your mate from a random source and Castiel was determined to stay at Dean’s side until he had more answers.)  

Taking a break from staring at the screen all morning, Castiel turned back to look at Dean in the kitchen scrubbing the counters.  

“It was nice meeting your family last night, Dean,” Castiel said gently.  

“Ha. Yeah, big moose and his wife dropping in unannounced...” Dean muttered to himself.   

Castiel cleared his throat. “If possible, I would like to go home for a bit today; gather some more clothing and check my mail.” He watched as Dean wiped down the counter for the third time.  

Dean began nodding. “Yeah, getting out of the house for a bit would be good. Gimme five minutes.”  

Castiel nodded his agreement and began packing up his paperwork. Dean spoke from behind him.  

“You know, you can keep your stuff out. On the table, I mean; it’s not bothering anything.”  

Castiel turned around to find Dean closer than he thought imaginable, which is to say approximately four feet.  

“What about dinners? You--”  

“TV trays, man. Really, it’s not a big deal.”   

With that, Dean spun around and headed down the hall, presumably to his bedroom to change clothes. Castiel looked around as his paperwork and laptop. It would be nice to not have to pack everything up only to get it back out a few hours later. Castiel wasn’t sure how Dean would feel about him tacking some of the stuff up around the bedroom he was using, but that was a question for later. Dean came back down the hall wearing jeans instead of sweats, the same ones he wore the first time he and Castiel met. Castiel wanted to claim it was for a purpose, but coincidences were things, too.  

The first thing Castiel did when he arrived back at his apartment was check his mail. His stomach sank as he found a small manila envelope addressed to him with no return address. He thought about calling in a crime scene investigation team but thought better of it. He could put gloves on, open the thing, look inside, and then take it to the station in the morning for analysis.  

“Dean, do you have any more rubber gloves in your car?”  

Dean, who had been wandering around the living room looking at pictures, books, and other knickknacks, turned around to face the kitchen.  

“Yeah, man. What’s up?” he asked, moving closer.  

Castiel hesitated before speaking. “I think I’ve received another photograph. I’d like to open it before putting it in a Ziploc bag.”  

Dean cleared his throat and nodded. He went back outside and returned quickly with a pair of blue rubber gloves that he occasionally used when working, usually with the police. Dean handed them over and moved closer to Castiel. The man snapped the gloves on and began to carefully unwind the envelope thread. Inside was a picture of Dean and Castiel from their Friday night beer get-together in the kitchen. At the bottom, written in red permanent marker was: “Sexy, guys, but don’t get too comfortable”.   

Castiel and Dean both gasped. Someone was obviously watching Dean’s home and were at it most hours of the day. Castiel immediately went for a baggie to put the picture and envelope in. It took a couple of tries before he could get the bag sealed due to his shaking hands. Castiel looked up at Dean who had a hard look upon his face.  

Begrudgingly and quietly, the man said, “I guess you were right.”  

Castiel put the bag down and went for his cell phone.  

~~~~~  

Dean was once again fingerprinted, which he thought was overkill. Seeing Castiel’s face earlier, however, had him biting his tongue and keeping the snarky comment to himself. It looked as though Castiel was right: someone was stalking and threatening Dean. Benny showed up just as the CSI people arrived.  

“Well, brotha’, we got ourselves a problem.”  

“No shit, Benny,” Dean said. Okay, so he couldn’t hold back all of the snark.  

Dean and Castiel sat at the kitchen table, Castiel furiously writing down notes and Dean staring off into space. He took in the dining room and kitchen of the small apartment and was very unimpressed. The walls were a yellowish-white, of all things, probably called something like ‘ecru’ or equally pretentious-sounding. Dean’s Omega practically preened at the knowledge that he had been providing better accommodations for the detective than he was used to at his apartment. His Omega wanted to fuss about the place, cleaning up, possibly making a nest, definitely... nope. Dean went back to staring at the ugly blank wall.  

Three hours and two cups of coffee later, the men were free to head back to Dean’s. Castiel packed a suitcase this time, insisting that he was planning to stay longer than anticipated and ‘ no, Dean, I won’t be going back and forth when you’re in danger’. The two men headed back to the house and prepared to hunker down.  

Over the course of the next week, the police officially arrested Nick “Lucifer” Morningstar in connection with the murder of Ruby Jackson, 26-year-old from Missouri. His fingerprints were found on the inside of the safe as well as on several of the buttons on the young woman’s shirt. Lucifer insisted he was innocent. He confessed to killing Metatron just to try and convince the police he didn’t kill Ruby. His defense attorney, one Meg Masters, wasn’t happy to hear that bit of news.  

Castiel continued to stay with Dean though no more photographs had been found after Sunday. The men had found a common ground in watching reruns of Dr. Sexy. Soon they forgot about the possible danger and focused more on who Dr. Sexy’s love interest would be that week. On Wednesday, that led to an argument that Benny had to break up via speakerphone when Dean called to tell him to tell Castiel that he was an idiot for thinking Nurse Mary was in any way better than Nurse Scott. Benny wasn’t amused.  

The issue of True Mates wasn’t brought up, not for lack of trying on Castiel’s part. Dean just wasn’t ready. His shoulder continued to burn and throb every time they got close. Sitting on the couch was both a blessing and a curse. The burn mark stayed warm to the touch, not beginning to heal though not getting worse. The men sat on opposite ends of the couch for movies and TV shows, but somehow, they always drifted closer to the middle—not touching, never touching—but their proximity grew.  

Castiel went with Dean to his shop every morning, said hello to Charlie, and waited for Benny to pick him up to go to the station. The only reason Castiel wasn’t following Dean everywhere was because Dean agreed to always have a second person with him at all times, usually a friend of both his and Benny’s. Castiel made sure to leave work at a decent time so that he could go home with Dean.  

There were several other instances of late-night beers as well as sticky sheets in the mornings. If the two men knew anything about the dreams and masturbatory fantasies, they were kind enough not to mention it.  

Chapter Text

The night that Sam and Jess came over for (an invited) dinner a week later was the breaking point. The mates watched the two men dance around each other in the kitchen. One would reach for something and the other already had it in hand, ready to hand it over. The two men never broke their conversation.  

“And I’m telling you that ketchup is a vegetable,” Dean said. “Where the fuck did you learn how to cook, man?” Dean said with a teasing smile. He got a spoon out of the drawer and dipped it into the simmering sauce. “Try this,” he said, holding the spoon up to Castiel’s mouth. “Is it too salty?”  

“First of all,” Castiel began, “I’m an adult and know that ketchup is a condiment and not part of a food group.” He opened his mouth like a baby bird waiting for a taste of the sauce. “No, it’s delicious as always, Dean,” he said, looking into Dean’s eyes to watch them light up with the praise.   

Dean and Castiel stared at each other and crowded each other’s space as they tasted the sauce back and forth.   

“Do they know?” Jess asked quietly.  

“What, that they’re already an old married couple?” Sam huffed a laugh. “I highly doubt it.”  

“I’m assuming Dean is the holdup?” Jess continued. Sam had told her about the boys’ childhood and she was sympathetic. She was also a mated Omega who wanted everyone to be as happy as she was.  

“Dean hasn’t said anything to me about it, so I’m betting he talks even less to Castiel. He--”  

“What are you two whispering about over there?” Dean cut in, stirring his marinara sauce for parmesan chicken.  

“We’re wondering when you two are gonna get your heads out of your asses,” Sam replied as only a little brother could, knowing smirk and all.   

Both Dean and Castiel squinted in Sam’s direction, one in irritation, the other in confusion.  

“Don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Sammy.” Annoying-ass little bitch brothers. “Get over here and eat.”  

“ So, Cas, what are your intentions toward my brother?” Sam said, taking a bite of his salad (that Castiel insisted Dean buy and fix).  

Jess coughed delicately to hide a laugh. Dean paused mid-bite, not taking his eyes off of his brother. His gaze promised retribution.  

“I, uh,” Castiel began, wiping his mouth with his napkin, “I’m not sure what you mean, Sam,” he finished lamely, looking up into Sam’s eyes.  

“I just mean, the two of you are True Mates, Dean is branded, the house smells like you’ve scent-bonded, but then nothing else has been said or done about--”  

“Sam, we’re not talking about this right now,” Dean gritted out.   

Dean knew their scents had mingled throughout the house. At some point, they silently agreed that wearing blockers twenty-four/seven was ridiculous. Dean’s apple pie and honey scent had melded with Castiel’s dark chocolate and coffee scent. The day Dean officially got his first unfiltered sniff of Castiel’s scent, he had to double up on his suppressants so that he wouldn’t go into heat. The heady smell of well-brewed, rich coffee with hints of dark chocolate had him slicking almost immediately. If he was having a rough time, he knew Castiel must be as well.  

Did Sam think Dean didn’t lay awake at night wondering what it would be like to have his mate by his side? Did Sam think he wasn’t absolutely done with the constant burning of the brand on his shoulder? Did Sam think this hadn’t been the hardest week and a half of his life?  

“Come on, Dean; this is something that really needs to be discussed. I realize that it’s not my business, but--”  

“That’s exactly right, Sam; it’s none of your business,” Dean said, grabbing his plate and stalking back to the kitchen.   

He leaned against the sink, his back to the other people in the room. Castiel and Benny needed to solve this case now . He didn’t need this. Dean stalked off to his bedroom. The next thing Dean knew, Jess was stopping him in the hall with a hand on his shoulder.  

“I’m so sorry, Dean; I don’t know what’s gotten into him.”  

Dean turned and folded Jess into his arms.  

“It’s fine, Jess. I just need time to think.”  

He squeezed Jess one more time before walking into his bedroom and shutting the door with more control than he actually felt.  

“Sam, that was out of line,” Castiel said after Jess had fled from the table.  

“Castiel, neither of you can go on like this; it’s unhealthy. You two already look and act like you’re mated so get on with it, man,” Sam said with a smile.   

“I can’t speak for Dean, but it was never my intention to take a mate. Dean came out of nowhere. I won’t force him into something that he doesn’t want either.”  

Sam lost his smile. “So then, what, after the case is solved, you’re just going to leave?”  

“If Dean is amenable after the case is over, I would like to take him out on a real date,” Castiel rested his elbows on the table. “I’d like for our mating—if there is one—to be something that we both choose, not something we’re thrown into and expected to follow through just because fate says we should.”  

Sam looked at least marginally chagrined. “When I met Jess, I couldn’t wait to be mated. It never occurred to me that someone wouldn’t want that person who’s made specifically for them. I, uh, I’m sorry for getting in the middle of it. I’ll go get Jess and we’ll head out.”  

Castiel nodded and got up to clear the table.  

  ~~~~~  

Dean stayed in his room all evening, huffing and fuming. How dare Sam bring up mating? He knew that Dean didn’t want a mate. Good on the kid for finding his, but Sam needed to keep his damn moose nose out of his brother’s business.   

So, what if he liked Cas; he was a good guy. (You know, underneath the awkwardness.) Objectively, he was hot. Their midnight beers in pajamas—or less than pajamas—had given Dean clear insight into the man’s physique. And he smelled great, so what? Everybody liked the smell of chocolate and coffee.   

Dean lay on his bed up against the headboard with his arms crossed and his legs straight out in front of him, ankles crossed. He was the picture of irritation. He heard murmurings down the hall and then the front door opened and closed. Dean closed his eyes and let out a sigh, allowing his body to relax marginally. The next thing he knew, Castiel was knocking at his door.  

“Yeah, come on in, Cas,” Dean said with a sigh. He really wasn’t looking forward to this conversation.  

“Hello, Dean,” Castiel said upon entering the room. He stood, just inside the doorway with his hands in his pockets.  

Dean rolled his eyes (maybe his eyes would stick like that after all). “Cough it up, Cas. What’s on your mind?”  

Castiel cleared his throat. “I just wanted to make sure that you were alright. I know that Sam’s--”  

“Sam needs to keep his trap shut.” Dean sat up abruptly and swung his legs off of the bed. “You want to talk about Sam’s little outburst? Fine. I don’t want this. I never wanted a mate, Cas, and now you’re here and--”  

“Neither did I, Dean,” Castiel interrupted quietly.  

“What?”  

“I didn’t want a mate either. I’m dedicated to my job. So much so, that even Benny says I’m married to it. I would never want someone to have to deal with all of this. I hate that you’ve gotten dragged into this investigation, Dean.” Castiel sighed deeply. “And yet here we both are.”  

Dean stood up and walked over to Castiel. “So, what do we do about this then, huh? My arm says I belong to you and I’m just supposed to roll over and take that?”  

“Of course not, Dean,” Castiel said, squinting his eyes. “You belong to yourself. I’d be honored to be part of your life, but you are your own person, now and always.”  

Dean huffed incredulously and walked past Castiel to go clean up the kitchen now that his brother and sister-in-law were gone. Halfway down the hall, Castiel found his words again.  

“Go on a date with me, Dean. See if we even like each other outside of all this...outside of being forced together.”  

I already like you, dumbass.  

“ We’ll see,” Dean said with finality. He finished walking down the hall and turning the corner into the kitchen. He could feel Castiel’s eyes on him the whole way.  

Chapter Text

“ Alright, you idjits, I want an update and I want it now,” Captain Bobby Singer said, walking into the bullpen. He’d left his comfortable and quiet office for this and now he wanted answers.  

Castiel and Benny looked at each other and sunk a little lower in their desk chairs. They knew Bobby meant them specifically.  

An officer, basically a teenager, raised his hand. “Well, sir, uh, Detective Fitzgerald and I found that puppy mill and...”  

Benny had to stifle a laugh. Garth and Alfie were literally saving puppies. Castiel kicked him under the desk, though he, too, had trouble fighting a smile.  

“And what about you two?” Chief Singer walked up to Benny and Castiel with his hands in his pockets and a scowl on his face. This is the man that raised Sam and Dean?  

Benny cleared his throat and spoke up first. “Well, sir, Dean is still in protective custody. Cas here hasn’t gotten any more photos this last week--”  

“But I need to run home and check my mail over lunch. Sir.”  

“Uh-huh. And what about Morningstar? He still not copping to the girl in the safe’s death?”  

“No, sir,” Castiel replied. “The Medical Examiner’s office cited her T.O.D. between midnight and three a.m. on or around the 28 th . While Lucifer’s prints were on the safe and on the girl’s clothing, and we know he was ‘out’, he’s still saying it’s a set-up. Lucifer is claiming that the two went on a few dates and he showed her the safe before they were intimate.”  

Benny picked up where Castiel left off. “The lawyer’s pissed ‘cuz he plead guilty to Metatron’s murder hoping we’d let him off the hook for the girl. Didn’t work. Right now, we’re workin’ with the D.A. on getting more charges officially filed and a separate trial started.”  

“Uh-huh. And how does this tie in with the alleged threats on Dean’s life?”  

Castiel cleared his throat and spoke up. “Well, sir, we’re not sure the two are related. The photos were taken at the crime scene and then again at De—Mr. Winchester’s home. The only threat was on the second photo...’Don’t get too comfortable’. I’m still doing around-the-clock supervision and surveillance.”  

“And how much money is that costin’ me and the city?”  

“Sir?”  

“Dean’s a big boy and can take care of ‘imself. Since there hasn’t been another photo, I want you working on this Ruby Jackson investigation instead. If there’s another credible threat, we’ll talk.”  

“Yes, sir,” Castiel said, disappointed. He knew that his stint as a bodyguard wouldn’t be permanent, but he didn’t think his time with Dean would be over so soon.  

Captain Singer walked around the bullpen, talking with the other officers and detectives about various cases. Castiel kept his head down and opened a new tab on his computer.  

“You’re lookin’ a little down, Chief.”  

“I’m fine, thank you.”  

“You gonna tell Dean, or do you want me to?”  

Castiel’s head shot up and his eyes pierced Benny’s. “I will.” No one but him would be telling Dean that the protective detail was over. Castiel was afraid it might be the last time he saw Dean unless the man officially agreed to a date.   

He’d wait until his shift ended and he knew that Dean would be at home. Castiel would need to pack his things anyway. He had an uncomfortable sensation in his stomach and chest.  

~~~~~  

Dean opened the door at the knock, and he saw Castiel leaning against the door frame looking like he was exhausted.  

“Dude, what’s up with you?” He stepped back to let Castiel into the house.  

“I’ve been reassigned to a different case,” Castiel said in one breath, moving toward the dining table to gather up his things.  

“Okay, so you split your attention; that’s fine, man. I still don’t think--”  

“Neither does Captain Singer. He reassigned me to the dead girl in the safe, to finding her killer. He says your security detail is over unless there’s a real threat on your life,” Castiel said, stuffing papers into his shoulder bag.  

“Okay,” Dean said slowly, gathering his thoughts. Castiel was leaving. Cas was leaving. “So, you’re...you’re leaving then?” It shouldn’t have bothered him. It shouldn’t have made his shoulder flare up in pain.  

Castiel finally turned around, having put away all of his files and papers. He set the bag down on the table and looked at Dean fully in the face for the first time since he’d come ho—come to Dean’s house.  

Dean cleared his throat, nodded his head, and crossed his arms. “Alright, well, lemme grab you some food to take back to your apartment, and then you can head out.”  

“Thank you, Dean,” the other man said quietly. Neither he nor Dean looked at each other as Castiel passed by on his way to the bedroom.  

Dean didn’t understand why he felt sad. He was on his own again; no one breathing down his neck or watching his every move. Unfortunately, he’d gotten kinda used to having Castiel around. It was actually nice having someone to cook for...to look after. As Dean moved to the kitchen, he tried to think of the number of beers they’d shared or cups of coffee or episodes of Dr. Sexy. How many times had Dean had to tell the stubborn Alpha to go to bed, that his notes wouldn’t get up and walk away in the night.  

Dean had to stop at the fridge and shake his head at himself. What a fucking sap. Dean loaded up a couple of nights of leftovers for Castiel to take with him. He briefly thought about making a couple of casseroles for him to take; gods only knew what his eating habits were like when left alone...  

Fuck.  

Dean turned around and headed down the hallway; he needed to be in an area where Castiel’s scent hadn’t completely permeated; he needed to clear his head. He nearly ran into Castiel as the man left the spare bedroom, suitcase in hand.  

“Dean, I--”  

“Just gimme a minute, Cas,” Dean said, still heading toward his bedroom.  

“We need to talk, Dean.”  

“Yeah, I know,” the man said sharply, entering his bedroom. Fuck, it smells like Cas in here, too, godsdammit. “ Got all your stuff?” Dean asked, standing just inside the bedroom door. He should’ve gone outside instead.  

“Dean,” Castiel pleaded, placing a hand on the man’s shoulder.  

Dean hissed and turned around. Of course, Castiel grabbed his left shoulder. He moved out of the man’s orbit, the two just staring at each other.  

“Dean, I would really like to date you...eventually mate you. I don’t want this to be the last time we see each other.”  

Dean couldn’t form words; he was too busy trying to translate Castiel’s.   

“I’ll go out with you, Cas, but...” Dean broke off and looked away “...I can’t mate you.”  

“Why not?” Castiel asked, genuinely confused.  

“I’m damaged goods, Cas; you can’t possibly want me. You barely know me!”  

“Well, I do, you stubborn assbutt! I know you hate vegetables. I know you practically raised Sam before you went to live with Bobby. I know you like trashy TV soap operas--”  

“Hey!” Dean tried to interject. Dr. Sexy was not trashy.  

“--I know you love burgers and your brother and Bobby. You’d do anything for your family. I know your scent, Dean. I know when you’re happy, when you’re upset, when you’re aroused. I know you and I want you. I lo--”  

“I used to steal to feed Sammy and me. Somewhere I’ve got a record of arrest for theft. What do you think of that, Mr. Straight-Laced-Cop? Or what about the fact that I practically sold myself to get extra money to pay our rent.” Dean glared at Castiel, daring the man to say something.  

“You were desperate and alone, Dean; no one should condemn you for that. I--”  

“You’re not seeing the full picture here, Cas,” Dean said   

“I happen to like the full picture, Dean! Despite what flaws may be in it,” Castiel tried to reason. “I’d rather have you, ‘broken’ or not!”  

The men stared at each other, each breathing heavily. Castiel made the first move, grabbing Dean by his left shoulder and pulling the man in, both felt the jolt of electricity flowing from the burn on Dean’s arm. He went willingly. The men’s lips crashed together. Dean lightly licked at Castiel’s bottom lip. It didn’t take but a moment for lips to part and the kiss was deepened. Dean’s hands found Castiel’s hips and he pulled the man even closer. Castiel’s other hand came up to cup Dean’s face. The men stood still until one of them moaned and then Castiel walked Dean into a wall.  

Chapter Text

Castiel wedged a thigh between Dean’s legs and ground up as Dean ground down. Dean moved his lips from Castiel’s down to his jaw and then down to his throat. He found a particularly sensitive area near the man’s pulse point and began sucking and nipping at it until a bruise was formed. Castiel’s head was tossed back, allowing Dean all the room he needed to work.  

Castiel pulled his face back up. Blue eyes stared into green, both darkened with desire.   

“Dean,” Castiel panted, “Are you sure?” He could smell the slick starting to leak from Dean’s hole and it made him dizzy.   

Dean nodded and replied with, “Yes.”  

Castiel let go of Dean’s face and began loosening his tie. Dean stripped off the man’s rumpled suit jacket, feeling the muscles underneath. He untucked Castiel’s shirt and when he touched skin, Dean groaned again and leaned in for another kiss. Castiel began undoing his buttons but Dean knocked his hands away and took over. At the top, Dean slid the tie from around Castiel’s neck and slipped the dress shirt off of his shoulders. He reached up to cup the man’s face, hands scraping over stubble he wanted to feel on his thighs.  

Castiel reached down and pulled Dean’s shirt over his head and threw it somewhere in the room before attacking the man’s mouth again. Castiel’s hands roamed over Dean’s torso and chest, flicking already-erect nipples. He moved his mouth down to Dean’s chest and took one into his mouth as he reached further down to undo Dean’s jeans. He drew the zipper down slowly, Dean hands now buried in his hair.   

Castiel kept kissing Dean’s torso and finally dropped down to his knees in front of Dean whose jeans were completely open. Dean dropped his head back onto the wall with a thunk, mouth open and panting. His hands were still in Castiel’s hair, tugging lightly.   

Castiel drew Dean’s dick through the hole in his boxer briefs and stroked it a few times, twisting his wrist when he reached the top. He looked up at Dean through heavily lidded eyes, watching the man’s throat work and planning to attack it again once he was done with Dean’s dick. Castiel took Dean deep into his mouth, the man moaning lasciviously above him. He swallowed deeply, taking Dean down to the root.   

Dean cried out and tugged sharply on Castiel’s hair, trying to get the man to come back up to kiss him.   

“Cas, Cas, you gotta stop, man, or I’m done. Please,” Dean pleaded.  

Cas let Dean slip from his mouth, placing a kiss on the tip of Dean’s cock, and slithering his way back up the man’s body. He placed kisses randomly as he stood up before taking Dean’s mouth once again. Dean let go of Castiel’s hair and reached down to undo the man’s belt and pants. The kisses continued and Castiel moaned as Dean’s hand found his way inside the man’s orange boxer briefs.  

“Dean,” Castiel moaned.  

Castiel broke the kiss long enough to push Dean over and onto the bed.  

The men stared at each other a moment before smiling and ridding themselves of their pants and underwear. Dean sat up and reached for Castiel’s wrist while admiring the size of his cock. With a flirty grin, Dean pulled Castiel down on top of him; the man went willingly.   

The silky slide of sweaty skin on sweaty skin was almost obscene. Moans and pants permeated the room.  

“Cas, Cas, Cas ,” Dean groaned as the man rubbed his cock against Dean’s.  

Castiel’s mouth was firmly stuck onto the area where Dean’s neck met his shoulder, where a mating bite would be. He sucked a deep bruise there and licked at his work. Castiel raised up on his knees after giving Dean a final kiss. Castiel surveyed the skin before him, flushed pink and shining with sweat and slick. Castiel reached out with two fingers and rubbed his fingers against Dean’s slackened hole, made loose and open by his arousal and the slick pouring from it. He still delved his fingers inside and groaned loudly at the tight heat he felt.  

“Beautiful,” he whispered. He mouthed at the inside of Dean’s knee. “So beautiful spread out for me, Dean.”  

Castiel removed his fingers and immediately put them in his mouth to suck on. The flavor of thick honey and, inexplicably, chocolate, exploded in his mouth. He reached up over Dean, kissing him deeply and transferring the man’s own slick to his tongue, and grabbed a pillow to shove under Dean’s hips. The kiss broke long enough for Castiel to situate the other man just the way he wanted him.   

“Cas, please, please, please!” Dean exclaimed, near pulsing with want as he moved his lips down Castiel’s jaw and nipped at his earlobe.  

Castiel moaned and the head of his cock caught on the edge of Dean’s hole.   

“What is it you need, Omega?” Castiel asked quietly.  

“Alpha! You, you, Alpha,” the other man panted.  

With one arm, Castiel reached under Dean’s knee and threw the leg over his forearm. The other hand held his cock steady as he entered Dean. Dean gasped.  

“Fuuuuck,” Castiel exclaimed as he sunk deeper into Dean’s heat.  

Once he had bottomed out, he placed a hand near Dean’s head and the other gripped his thigh. Dean hoped he would have bruises the next day. His hands gripped tight to Castiel’s forearm and back. The two men stared into each other’s eyes, lust and something deeper in them that neither man could put a name to. Castiel began moving slowly and Dean threw his head back in ecstasy. It felt like Castiel was meant for Dean’s body alone.  

Castiel sped up his thrusts.   

“Dean, Dean, beloved,” he panted out, slightly above a whisper, his knot beginning to catch on Dean’s rim.  

The men’s voices faded away and only breaths remained. Castiel let go of Dean’s thigh, moving deeper into the other man as he reached for Dean’s shoulder. Once contact was made, Castiel’s knot locked into place, and both men came harder than they ever had, each other’s names on the other’s lips. Castiel dropped his head down to Dean’s shoulder, the one he had yet to let go of. He buried his nose in Dean’s neck and took a deep inhale, breathing in aroused yet happy Omega. It took everything in him not to bite Dean then and there. They hadn’t discussed mating; Dean was opposed. It could wait, even if Castiel ached to put his bite where he was kissing.  

Dean stared at the ceiling, trying to catch his breath. He lifted a hand to run through Castiel’s sweaty hair.  

“You didn’t bite me,” Dean said breathlessly.  

“You didn’t want me to,” Castiel whispered into Dean’s neck, kissing the bolt of the man’s jaw.  

Dean nodded and would kill anyone who called the stinging in his eyes tears, but even so, he squeezed his eyes tight until the feeling passed.  

Chapter Text

Castiel left Dean’s the next morning with a large smile on his face. He may be tired (the two men slept mostly in snoozes while tied together), but he was happy. He still had his suitcase and shoulder bag on his person that morning, but there were plans to meet back at Dean’s later for dinner. 

Castiel got to the station earlier than normal, though not by much. He left his suitcase in his car and took his shoulder bag in with him. 

“Don’t look too happy, Chief. We got suspects to interview,” Benny said, passing the smiling man a cup of station sludge, er, coffee. 

“Already? How?” Castiel took the cup and frowned. He should have taken some of Dean’s with him when he left; he’d gotten a bit spoiled over the last week and a half. 

“Another anonymous tip. Whoever this is, they ought to be workin’ for us.” 

“Was it the same caller, do you think?” 

Benny shrugged and sat down at his desk to go over their list of suspects. 

“Number one, gal by the name of Josie Abaddon. Works for Fergus Crowley (who we’re also talkin’ to) as his administrative assistant at The Underworld. She’s got a clean record, small pop for disorderly conduct in college, but that’s it. Gives off a ‘scary vibe’, though, according to Alfie.” 

“Alfie is the one who picked her up?” Castiel couldn’t hide his surprise. The baby-faced patrol officer had only worked at the station for a short time and was most often paired with Detective Garth Fitzgerald. 

“Yup. Just so happens he was in her vicinity when we got the call to bring her in.” Benny shrugged. Castiel shrugged. The person in question was in the station, job done. “Anyway, the tip called her out for soliciting kids to sell drugs for her and Crowley. Note I got said the caller indicated she was involved in Ruby’s death.” Benny sat his notepad down and crossed his arms. “Medical Examiner didn’t find any toxins in Ruby, so it may be a bust.” 

“Why wasn’t I called?” Castiel asked. 

Benny got a big smile on his face. “Just so happens that you were, Castiel. You just didn’t pick up. Perhaps your pants were in another room?” he chuckled. 

Castiel rolled his eyes and made the mistake of taking a sip of sludge. He made a face at both Benny and at the awful taste in his mouth. He flipped Benny off while he spat out the sludge in the trashcan near his desk. The ‘coffee’ had to be several days old by that point. 

“Mind your business, Benny.” 

“I’d say it is my business when my partner won’t answer his phone at three a.m. when previously, he’d already be at work and could’ve gotten this tip line himself.” 

Castiel kept his mouth shut as his blush gave him away. At approximately three a.m. he had Dean in his lap as he fucked the man for the third time. Castiel had to subtly adjust himself as the memory flooded his system.  

“I’m just givin’ ya shit, Castiel. You and Dean are good for each other.” Benny uncrossed his arms and grabbed the file marked JACKSON off of his desk. “Let’s go talk to the scary lady.” 

“Indeed,” Castiel replied, clearing his throat and putting his game face on. 

~~~~~ 

Two hours later and the men didn’t have near the information that they had hoped for. 

“Do you know how rude it is to interrupt a woman’s beauty sleep?” The woman in the interrogation room had perfectly curled and coiffed red hair, two wisps of it framing her face, which was covered in a flawless layer of makeup. The dark eyes combined with the red lips and long red fingernails did lend a certain scary aspect to the woman, but overall, she looked like any other person off the street. Castiel decided it was the red leather jacket that really put her into scary territory for Alfie. 

“No, ma’am, neither of us are married,” replied Castiel, looking at Benny’s notes again. “Ms. Abaddon, can you tell us where you were the night of September 28th?” Castiel turned an inquiring look on the woman, expression earnest. 

“I have no idea,” Josie said, looking at her nails and brushing nonexistent lint from her jacket. “I don’t have my planner with me.” 

“Would you be willing to bring it in for us to take a look?” 

“I most certainly do mind! That is both personal and professional information.” Now the woman looked scary. 

Castiel raised his hands in peace and looked over at Benny who had taken up residence in the corner of the room. The man shook his head; the woman was cool as a cucumber. Benny had an uncanny ability to read their suspects, mostly their tells. Fidgeting, bouncing leg, wringing hands, et cetera told Benny a story, more than just the fact that the person in the room was nervous. 

Castiel and Benny questioned the woman about the robberies, Metatron’s death, and Ruby’s death. It turned out that Josie and Ruby were slight acquaintances through work. Ruby had just signed on as one of the contractors but hadn’t yet been put to work.  

“If there’s nothing else, gentlemen?” Josie began to stand and Castiel followed, straightening his borrowed tie. 

“Thank you for coming in, Ms. Abaddon. We’ll be in touch.” 

The woman ‘hmm’d’ and strutted out of the interrogation room and down the hall. Castiel and Benny watched as she pulled her cellphone from a rather large—most likely real—snakeskin bag.  

Once she was out of sight, the men began to talk. 

“Well?” 

“I think I see what Alfie meant by ‘scary’, but I don’t see how she ties into anything.” 

“She knew Ruby,” Benny reasoned, “that at least puts her in proximity of the vic. I’d like to get my hands on that planner of hers. I bet there’s all kinds of interesting things in there.” 

“I’m sure.” Castiel checked his watch. Nine a.m. There was another hour before Lucifer was scheduled to come in from the prison. “I need to run home, Benny. Hold down the fort?” 

“Well, I know you showered this mornin’, so whatcha got goin’ on?”  

“For your information, I need to drop some things off at my apartment and pick up a few others.” Castiel paused. “Plus, I want to check my mail. It’s been a couple of days.” 

“Still worried about Dean?” 

“My right as a mate” 

“Mate? Dean finally give in?” Benny took a step closer to Castiel and sniffed. “Don’t smell mated, but I sure can smell that scent bond.” 

Castiel paused. “He’s...we’re talking about it. Dean’s at least agreed to date.” 

“Sex before the first date. Tsk tsk, Castiel,” Benny said with a smirk. 

“Shut up, Benny.” 

~~~~~ 

Castiel drove home with a smile on his face. He didn’t lie to Benny so much as withheld the whole truth. He was going home to drop things off, but he was getting ready to pack another bag to stay with Dean. The night before had been intense, he and Dean coming together several times and spending the time tied together talking and laughing. 

“Caaas!” Dean groaned a final time as he came. The man panted and moaned as Castiel rocked inside him, coming for a second time. When Dean had presented that last time, Castiel’s breath had been taken away. Castiel had wasted no time in spreading Dean’s ass and licking up from his balls to his hole, practically drinking the slick that poured from Dean.  

The man was surely getting sore by this point in the night, but every time one of them woke after Castiel’s knot had gone down, they’d start kissing and rubbing and taunting the other and that was that. Once Castiel had drunk his fill, he ran his hand up and down Dean’s prone back and grabbed his neck to hold the man down.   

Castiel thrust in harshly, causing Dean to cry out in pleasure, and then pulled the man up in his lap, pulling Dean down on his cock as he thrust up. It didn’t take long for the men to come, Dean coming dry for the first time in his life. Castiel guided Dean to lay on their sides.  

“Jesus fucking Christ, Cas.”  

“I’ve wanted to do this for a very long time, Dean,” the man practically growled.  

“Yeah, well...I’m impressed you haven’t bitten me yet.”  

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel laughed quietly, “I’ve bitten you plenty,” he said thinking about the many love bites the man had littering his body. Castiel was tempted to call Dean his little leopard, but he didn’t think the man would appreciate it. He kissed the back of Dean’s neck and worried another bruise that he had put there.  

“Yeah, yeah, big strong Alpha,” Dean joked. The men fell silent for a while. “You should, uh...I mean you can... come back tonight, y’know, if you want to.”  

Castiel raised up on an elbow and hooked his chin on Dean’s shoulder and the man below him turned to look back.  

“I’d love to, Dean.” Castiel kissed Dean quietly and sweetly on the mouth.  

The men slept for another couple of hours before Dean’s alarm woke them up to face the day. Dean grumbled at more than the rude awakening; both he and Cas were covered in come and slick that they’d been too tired to wash off earlier. There wasn’t any awkwardness after their shared shower; after all, they’d lived together for almost a week and a half and knew each other’s morning routines. And there was the good morning hand job the men had shared.  

Castiel thought that he could get used to this. He was starting to warm up to the idea of mating and hoped that maybe Dean was, too. At his building, Castiel quickly ran upstairs to change out clothes from his suitcase and decided to pack a duffle and clothing bag instead (he had to look presentable at work). Castiel thought that the suitcase might imply that he was moving in with Dean (which he would love) and he wanted to do something slightly more relaxed. 

Chore done, Castiel headed back out of his apartment and just barely remembered to check his mail before he headed back to work. He tossed it in the front seat and forgot about it. 

Chapter Text

Castiel had a headache. Benny had a headache. Everybody had a headache. They’d just spent another two hours talking with Nick ‘Lucifer’ Morningstar about Ruby’s murder. His lawyer was present and she kept the detectives on their toes in their line of questioning. 

“I’m telling you, I had nothing to do with that!” Lucifer yelled and slammed a fist down on the table. The lawyer, Meg, leaned over and whispered something in his ear that had the man calming down.  

“Lucifer, you’re already in prison for the murder of Marvin Metatron, what’s adding a few more years to say you killed Ruby Jackson?” 

“Fuck you.” 

And back and forth it went until Lucifer suddenly got twitchy. 

“What, you need a piss break?” Benny asked jokingly, blue eyes watching Lucifer’s every move. 

“What if I could give you other information?” 

Castiel perked up. “Like what?” If there was even the possibility of ending this case, Castiel would be ecstatic. 

“Chuck Shurley.” 

The room fell silent. Meg rolled her eyes and the two police officers looked at each other in confusion. 

“God?” Castiel asked incredulously. “What does God have to do with a dead escort?” 

Lucifer smiled and if Castiel were a lesser man, he might have felt a shiver go down his spine. 

“You said it yourself, Detective: God and the King of Hell are fighting over the city.” Lucifer smirked. “The king isn’t the only one getting his hands dirty.” 

Meg looked like she was about to have a coronary. “And I think we’re done today, gentlemen. I’d like for my client to be released back into prison custody.” 

“In a minute,” Benny said quietly. “What else you got, Lucifer?” 

“Look, all I have is hearsay, alright, I have a, uh, friend on the God squad with loose lips. He says the Angels are about to go to war with the Demons.” 

“War? Turf war?” 

“But you didn’t hear that from me. I’d rather not be shivved before my trial.” Lucifer sat back in his chair, relaxing even with cuffs on his wrists and ankles. If he could have, the man would probably have leaned back in his chair, legs crossed at the ankle and hands behind his head, preening at the detectives. 

“So, what, Ruby collateral damage?” Castiel asked suspiciously. “Fine. Send him back to the prison. Maybe you will get ‘shivved’ and we’ll get some more answers.” Castiel stood up, nodding to Meg as he and Benny left the room. 

“Why would our mystery caller give these specific names if we’re not going to get any information out of them?” Benny wondered as the men sat back down at their desks. 

“I don’t know, but none of this has been helpful,” Castiel said, rubbing at the headache pounding in his temples. 

Benny twisted a pen around in his hands. “You really think we ought to bring Chuck Shurley in on this?” 

Castiel’s head snapped up. “No. Not yet, at least.”  

The two men spent the rest of the morning spitballing ideas as to how everything circled back to Ruby. 

~~~~~ 

A week passed and there was another murder. Hannah Baker, 24, was found dead inside her own home. No one saw anything. No one heard anything. She happened to be under Chuck Shurley’s payroll at Skydive. Castiel was beginning to think these deaths were sending a message to the other side: King of Hell versus God. 

This time, Castiel and Benny brought in both Fergus Crowley and Chuck Shurley. It was time to see if Lucifer’s theory was right. 

“I-I-I'd like an attorney. Please,” Chuck Shurley told them upon entering the interrogation room. Both Benny and Castiel rolled their eyes but nodded. They’d have to speak to the King of Hell first. 

“Hello, boys,” the man said upon their entry. His British accent sounded out of place in central Arkansas, making Castiel wonder how the fuck he ended up here. He was wearing a dark suit, dark shirt, and a blazing red tie. No, he didn’t belong in Arkansas. 

“Good morning, Mr. Crowley--” 

“Just Crowley is fine.” 

Castiel looked up from under his eyelashes while he looked over the case file. “Fine. Crowley. Do you know a Hannah Baker?” 

“No, I’m afraid that name doesn’t ring a bell. She’s the young girl who died recently, am I correct? One of two, actually.” 

“Yes, you are correct. We know you and the first victim, Ruby Jackson, at least knew of each other. I got your name from a witness saying that you also knew Hannah Baker.” 

The anonymous tips kept pouring in. Dispatch was able to discern that, yes, it was the same person, but they used a burner cell or a public phone each time they called. The most recent implicated Fergus Crowley in the death of Hannah Baker, though Castiel was hard-pressed to figure out how. 

Another hour with Crowley yielded no new information on either Ruby or Hannah. Both Benny and Castiel were frustrated. Next, they learned that Chuck Shurley’s lawyer had arrived and they could question the man now. 

Castiel’s first impression was ‘meek’. The man before him cowered and relied heavily on his lawyer to help him answer questions.  

It was sad that Hannah passed. Yes, she worked for him. No, he didn’t meet with her outside of work. 

“Can-can I ask why I’m here? I-I-I mean I know that Hannah’s dead and you need to question her boss, but couldn’t this have been done in my office downtown?” Chuck asked, stuttering his way through the words. 

“We could have, Mr. Shurley, but we received an anonymous tip that you had information for us. You’re a busy man, so having you come to the station was the quickest way to get our questions answered,” Benny replied. 

“This is highly irregular,” the lawyer, Zachariah Godson, said. “Next time you wish to speak to my client, kindly do so at his place of business.” The man stood up, indicating that Chuck do the same. “Gentlemen, it’s been a pleasure.” The two men walked out without any argument from the detectives. 

“Well?” Castiel asked once the door was shut again. 

“If that man is truly that meek and mild, I’ll eat my badge.” 

“I wondered,” Castiel said contemplatively. 

Castiel had now talked to all four people the tipster had named, all without gleaning any pertinent information. Perhaps he should tell dispatch to stop passing along the messages, that someone was obviously bored or had a vendetta. 

~~~~~ 

“Heya, Cas,” Dean said, stirring a pot on the stove. 

“Hello, Dean,” the man replied, coming up behind Dean to wrap his arms around the man’s waist. Last week he stayed almost three days with Dean before new clothing called his name. Neither man mentioned staying the night for this week, but Dean did invite Castiel for dinner each evening (usually sending the man off with Tupperware full of leftovers). 

Dean turned his head and met Castiel for a sweet peck on the lips. Castiel backed away and loosened his tie before sitting down at the table to watch Dean cook. It smelled like the man was making chili, a welcome idea on the cold November night. 

Neither Castiel nor Dean had brought up Thanksgiving, just a week away. Castiel planned to do what he did every year: work straight through and probably eat some of the turkey dinner donated by one of the local restaurants. 

“So, Thanksgiving,” Dean said apropos of nothing. “What, uh, are your plans?” 

Castiel swallowed his spoonful of chili and wiped his mouth. “I had planned to work...just sit quietly and wait for crime to happen.” 

“’Wait for crime to happen’?” 

“Yes.” 

“Right. Well, if you can swing it, the Winchester-Singers always have a get-together at Bobby’s for the day. Football, food, naps...You might enjoy it,” Dean finished quietly. 

Castiel reached over and covered Dean’s hand with his own. “I don’t know if I can do the whole day, but I’d love to have dinner with you and your family, Dean,” he said with a smile.  

“Great. Good,” Dean stammered, “I’ll make sure there’s a plate for ya.” He shifted his hand so that the men’s fingers interlaced on the table and they shared quiet smiles.  

Castiel was getting used to the domestic lifestyle. Of course, the men still argued over Dr. Sexy and some of Dean’s food choices, much like when Castiel had lived with Dean for that week. However, any arguments this time around were solved with makeout sessions and makeup sex.  

Castiel was happy. 

Chapter Text

Castiel was not happy. Their mystery caller had left two more tips with Dispatch that Benny and Castiel had decided to ignore. Now, one each of God’s and the King of Hell’s henchpeople were dead, Uriel White and Lilith Black respectively.   

Castiel was starting to get even more suspicious of the anonymous caller. Every time he called, someone died. Castiel had to back out of Thanksgiving dinner with Dean and his family to deal with the two murders. And ‘murders’ they were. Uriel had been disemboweled not far from The Underworld in an alley. Lilith was hung in her apartment; the Medical Examiner determined the cause of death was not suicide.  

It seemed that their killer or killers were escalating. At least they remained consistent: one person from each side of the ‘mob families’ was killed with each new call. Benny and Castiel were frustrated. The only thing that Dispatch could tell them about the caller was that it sounded like a kid putting on a gruff voice. How the fuck would a kid know about this stuff?  

The calls came once or twice a week, not all calls led to murder. Castiel and Benny refused to bring any more people in for interrogation unless they found their own evidence to do so. The men spoke with witnesses again, those who had seen Uriel, Hannah, Lilith, or Ruby recently. They showed pictures of Lucifer, of God, of the King of Hell. They even got desperate enough to show pictures of their lawyers. No one knew anything.   

After another month of nothing helpful, and with Captain Singer’s permission, Castiel and Benny set the case aside. They’d been neglecting their other cases, and, with those having more evidence and credible witnesses, the men nearly gave up altogether. There had been no more phone calls, no more deaths. It was time to focus their attention on things that were tangible and current.  

~~~~~  

“You weren’t like this at Thanksgiving, Dean.”  

“Because I knew there was a chance you’d have to work. Now, you’re telling me you and Benny aren’t on-call or whatever and I’m fucking nervous, alright?”  

Castiel and Dean were getting ready to go to the Singer home for a Christmas Eve dinner and gift exchange.   

Castiel walked up to Dean, who was angrily tying his tie and put his hands on the man’s shoulders, turning him around.  

“Dean, I don’t have to go. If you’re this nervous--”  

“You’re meeting my family. This is like, official and shit.”  

Castiel cocked his head to one side. “I know all of your family, Dean. I work with Bobby; I’ve met Sam and Jess. What is there to be nervous about?”  

Dean took a deep breath and turned back around; it was easier saying this shit to the wall.  

“You weren’t my boyfriend or whatever before,” Dean said quietly, finally finishing his tie. He turned around slowly and looked at Castiel.   

The man needed new suits; none of them fit him correctly. His hair was a mess despite trying to tame it earlier. His own tie was backward. Somewhere down the line, Dean had gone and fallen in love with the man. He was terrified.  

“Fine, just...I don’t even know. Let’s go before I get too chickenshit and decide to stay home.” He grabbed Castiel’s hand and led him out of the bathroom, through the bedroom, and into the hall.   

Castiel suddenly stopped and pulled Dean to him. He kissed the man and backed him up against the nearest wall.  

“I think I know what’ll help you relax, Dean,” Castiel said in between kisses.  

“Oh yeah?” Dean intelligently responded.  

“Yeah. Stay,” Castiel practically growled.  

Castiel dropped to the floor and began undoing Dean’s belt and slacks. Dean tried hard not to grab Castiel’s hair and mess it up further, but when the man pulled him out of his boxer briefs, all bets were off. Castiel nosed at Dean’s growing erection before taking him in hand and pumping Dean to full hardness. Dean bucked his hips up seeking friction.   

Castiel still nosed around Dean’s dick, definitely starting to smell slick. He had the forethought to go ahead and pull Dean’s pants and underwear all the way down to the floor, leaving Dean in his dress shirt, dick at attention peeking out from between the shirttails.   

“Cas,” Dean groaned, “we’re still gonna make a mess.”  

“Then we’ll just have to clean you up, won’t we?”  

A full-body shiver went through Dean at the image that brought on. When Castiel finally took Dean into his mouth, the man’s head fell forward to watch as Castiel gave him head. On particularly good sucks or strokes, Dean would moan. It didn’t take long before Castiel had Dean a leaking, moaning mess. He tongued at Dean’s slit one more time before swallowing him down, while at the same time he quickly inserted two fingers into his hole and quickly found Dean’s prostate. The man came hard and quick, Castiel swallowing every drop.  

Castiel had never stopped petting Dean’s thighs so Dean’s slick never dripped past his knees. Dean watched as Castiel removed his hands and began to lick every drop off of every single finger. The aftershock Dean experienced was almost as good as the orgasm itself. Castiel was quick to clean that up, too. The man carefully got up from his knees, hands out like a surgeon who just washed and sanitized his hands, and kissed Dean deeply, transferring the scent and taste of honey, apples, and chocolate to Dean’s mouth.  

“I need to change, Dean. You should stay here until I come back with a washcloth,” Castiel told the man.   

Dean could see that Castiel’s shirt was soaked to the wrists with slick, and, if he wasn’t mistaken, he also smelled Alpha come though there was no stain (yet) on Castiel’s pants. Dean nodded and locked his knees to hold himself in place. He heard the water running in the bathroom and soon thereafter, Castiel returned sans jacket and dress shirt with a wet washcloth in his hand. He handed it off to Dean with a chaste kiss before heading back into the bedroom to change his clothes.   

After a few moments, Dean finally bent over and began cleaning himself up. Thanks to Castiel there was only a small amount of slick to clean up on his legs and none had dripped onto his clothing...small miracle. He pulled his underwear and pants up and was just walking into the spare bathroom when Castiel came out of the bedroom and around the corner in a fresh suit. They reeked of sex and satisfaction. Sam was going to give them so much shit.  

Chapter Text

“You stink like sex!” cried Sam when he opened the door. “What the hell?”  

Dean rolled his eyes as he muscled his way past his ‘little’ brother. “Well, Sammy, when one person loves another person very, very much--”  

“Shut up, Jerk.”  

“Bitch.”  

The two brothers continued bickering as they walked through the house to the living room.  

Castiel had blanched a little once the door opened, partly due to Sam’s comment, partly due to Dean’s ‘love’ comment, and partly because he was officially meeting his mate’s—boyfriend's--family for the first time. Thankfully, Jess was right behind Sam and she saw his deer in the headlights look.   

Jess walked over and threaded her arm through Castiel’s. She kissed his cheek. “First of all, you do not stink of sex; you stink of major satisfaction,” Jess laughed. “Second of all, you already know everyone here, so relax, Castiel.”  

Castiel let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding. “Thank you, Jess.” He reached up and squeezed her hand as they entered the living room.  

Captain Sin—Bobby's home was modest but comfortable. The large living room opened up off of a small hallway. Across from there was the kitchen and straight ahead some stairs. The house looked lived-in which is more than Castiel could say about his own home growing up.   

On one side of the living room stood a large tree, covered in handmade and hand-me-down ornaments. The scent of pine was strong in the room. Entering further, Castiel noticed an alcove off the back of the room where a desk and several bookshelves stood. The room was a mess with books and papers piled everywhere which told Castiel that it must have been Bobby’s office.  

After taking in the room, Castiel began to notice the people. Dean was hugging a short blonde woman who also punched him in the arm.   

“Jo,” Jess whispered. “She’s Bobby and Ellen’s daughter.”  

Dean never mentioned a sister. The man was then enveloped in the biggest mom-hug he had ever seen. The woman had dark hair and a kind face. Castiel could imagine that face disappointed and angry and the woman must be Dean’s mother—adoptive mother. Dean returned the hug and whispered in her ear.  

Bobby was standing off to the side of the room talking with Sam and another man.  

“The guy standing by Sam is Victor; he’s Jo’s fiancé,” Jess told him. Castiel nodded along until Dean caught his eye and waved him over.  

He reluctantly let go of Jess’ arm and made his way over to Dean. I’m about to meet Dean’s mother , Castiel thought, the mere idea frightening him more than a bad guy with a gun pointed at him.  

“Ma, this is Castiel. Works with Bobby and Benny,” Dean said beaming.   

“Nice to meet you, Castiel. I’m Ellen. We’re glad you could come,” Ellen said with a kind smile.  

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Ellen. I’m, uh, also Dean’s True Mate,” he said while looking at Dean.  

Dean rolled his eyes and walked off to hug Jess. Castiel felt a tug in his chest that may have been disappointment. Ellen saw the change in him and spoke up.  

“He told me about you, Castiel; don’t worry about that. Fact is, he wouldn’t shut up about you at Thanksgiving,” said Ellen.  

Castiel felt himself deflate and relax. Dean was so adamant that he didn’t want to mate, he wasn’t sure what their story was supposed to be.  

“I’m Jo,” the short blonde said, walking up to Castiel and Ellen. “Dean’s sister.” She held out her hand.   

Castiel took it, suddenly very surprised that the captain had a daughter (but then again, he was never in the man’s office long enough to look at the pictures scattered around). The young woman had a tight grip and suddenly Castiel was more concerned with impressing Jo rather than Ellen or Bobby.  

“Don’t look so scared,” she told him. “Dean and Dad talked over Thanksgiving about how you two would’ve met sooner had you come to the Fourth of July barbeque we hosted over the summer.”  

“Joanna Beth--”  

“What? It’s true. And it was fun to see Dean kind of get pale and quiet.”  

It was true. Castiel had moved down to Arkansas early to get settled before starting at the station. In that month of settling in, Castiel had been invited by the captain himself, saying he should get to know the people he’d be working with. Castiel had a terrible cold that prevented him from going out but lamented the fact that he wasn’t able to go. Now he had one more reason to be sorry that he hadn’t.  

What would Dean have thought back then about meeting his True Mate? His reaction probably wouldn’t have been much better, to be honest. But then, without the case, they may not have had any chance of seeing each other more than that once. Castiel was suddenly very grateful that he missed the party.  

Dean came up beside Castiel and handed him a small tumbler of egg nog. “How’re you holding up?”  

Castiel looked down into his drink for a while before answering. “Fairly well, I think. I’ve met everyone and they seem kind.”  

Dean snorted. “Yeah, they’re kind of vicious when they want to be. I’m surprised that Jo didn’t get out her set of throwing knives.” He took a sip of egg nog.  

Castiel turned slightly towards the man and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?”  

Dean shrugged. “Didn’t seem important. We never really talked families, so...”  

Castiel nodded and looked away. Before he could respond to Dean, Jess spoke up across the room.   

“Kiss!” She pointed up above the men’s heads where a sprig of mistletoe hung, wrapped in a bright, gold satiny ribbon.  

Dean and Castiel looked at each other. There was no reason to be nervous; Castiel had just given Dean a blowjob before they arrived. And yet this felt momentous. He let Dean move first, and after a moment, he did. He took a step forward, locked eyes with Castiel, and leaned forward. Castiel leaned the final third and both men closed their eyes.  

He could taste peppermint and alcohol and Dean. Without conscious thought, he deepened the chaste kiss, just barely passing his tongue across Dean’s lower lip. Dean took a half-step forward and was lightly pressed against Castiel. Just as he felt Dean begin to open his mouth, Sam interrupted by shouting loudly.  

Dean huffed a small laugh and leaned his forehead against Castiel’s. The men opened their eyes, and Castiel found that Dean’s eyes had darkened, his pupil taking over much of his eyes. They smiled at each other and backed away, eyes still locked.  

~~~~~  

The blowjob helped immensely. Dean felt more relaxed as he drove over to Bobby and Ellen’s for their Christmas get-together. Why was he so worried? Cas already knew half the people that would be there. No big deal. But then he remembered that Castiel would need to meet Ellen, one of the most important women in Dean’s life. Right, that’s why he was nervous.  

Arriving at Bobby’s took considerably less time than Dean thought it would. He briefly entertained the idea that aliens had ‘beamed them up Scotty’ and they time traveled. Cas looked at him like he was crazy and said, “I don’t understand that reference.” Dean rolled his eyes.  

He didn’t try to prepare Castiel for anything regarding his family, not telling him who would be there or what the actual events would be. He couldn’t; he wanted Castiel’s mind and eyes fresh. He thought he knew Dean? Well, let’s just see.  

Sam, of course, was a little bitch from the beginning.  

“You stink like sex!” cried Sam when he opened the door. “What the hell?”  

Dean rolled his eyes as he muscled his way past his ‘little’ brother. “Well, Sammy, when one person loves another person very, very much--”  

“Shut up, Jerk.”  

“Bitch.”  

Dean turned around briefly before going over to Bobby and Victor, glad that Castiel had Jess to show him around and introduce him to people, or at least point them out. Maybe that was supposed to be his job, but he wasn’t ready yet.  

“So that’s the True Mate,” Victor teased after shaking Dean’s hand.   

Bobby handed Dean a glass of egg nog which he chugged down and went in for a second one.  

“Jeez, boy, nervous much?” Bobby had on a nice pair of jeans with no holes or worn spots and a wool flannel shirt that Ellen had bought for him last Christmas. There was no trucker’s cap on his head, and his hair was combed flat, covering part of his bald spot—Ellen's doing, Dean was sure.  

“Yeah, so what if I am? Throwing Cas into th--”  

“Whoa, Dean, slow down. Are you really this nervous?” Sam asked, ever the concerned brother.  

Dean looked up at Sam and knew he couldn’t lie to those puppy eyes.   

“Fine, I am, alright. This is like the boyfriend meeting the parents when you’re a teenager, only half the people here carry loaded firearms and play with knives.” He took a deep drink of his egg nog as Victor laughed heartily.  

Dean turned and walked away quickly, going over to Jo and giving her a big hug. He hadn’t seen her since Thanksgiving. Actually, he hadn’t seen any of his family since Thanksgiving, keeping his contact to phone calls or texts while Cas was busy with his cases. And fucking Dean.   

He made his way to Ellen next and gave her a hug only a mother could return. She enveloped him in vanilla and orange blossom and home, comfort, and safety.   

“Hey, ma,” he whispered in her ear.   

“That the one?”  

“Yeah. Be nice?”  

“Never,” she said pulling back and looking at Dean. She smiled brightly.    

Dean noticed that Jess was bringing Castiel over. Shit. Did he introduce the man as his boyfriend? As his True Mate?   

“Ma, this is Castiel. Works with Bobby and Benny,” Dean said beaming. Fake it ‘til you make it.  

“Nice to meet you, Castiel. I’m Ellen. We’re glad you could come,” Ellen said with a kind smile.  

“It’s nice to meet you as well, Ellen. I’m, uh, also Dean’s True Mate,” he said while looking at the man.  

Dean rolled his eyes and walked off to hug Jess.   

“Nice one,” Jess whispered in his ear.  

“Shuddap,” he returned.  

Dean saw that Castiel was alone again, just standing by the fireplace looking lost.  

Dean came up beside Castiel and handed him a small tumbler of egg nog. “How’re you holding up?”  

Castiel looked down into his drink for a while before answering. “Fairly well, I think. I’ve met everyone and they seem kind.”  

Dean snorted. “Yeah, they’re kind of vicious when they want to be. I’m surprised that Jo didn’t get out her set of throwing knives.” He took a sip of egg nog to shut himself up.  

Castiel turned slightly towards the man and asked, “Why didn’t you tell me you had a sister?”  

Dean shrugged. “Didn’t seem important. We never really talked families, so...” They didn’t--hadn’t--talked about a lot of things. Dean was still getting used to the idea of having a True Mate and didn’t know what to do beyond--  

“Kiss!” Jess yelled from across the room.  

Mistletoe. Of course.  

Dean and Castiel looked at each other. There was no reason to be nervous; the man had just given Dean a blowjob before they arrived. Dean leaned forward and put his lips on Castiel’s. He could taste some of the sweetness from the egg nog along with some of the alcohol. Mostly what he tasted was Cas . The simple kiss zinged up Dean’s shoulder only to explode outward when Castiel’s tongue brushed across his lower lip. Before he could open his mouth the take the kiss deeper, Sam ruined the moment.  

Chapter Text

It was a few days after Christmas and Castiel had gone to stay at his apartment for a few days; Dean was acting oddly after dinner with his family. He seemed to be seeing Castiel in a different light. Later that night, the two men had gone back to Dean’s house and finished the kiss they started at Bobby’s. They made another mess of their shirts and pants with a mutual handjob in the kitchen, and after cleaning up, they went to bed. There was no discussion of where Castiel would stay that night. Dean seemed quiet and contemplative. Castiel left him alone knowing that Dean would talk when he was ready to talk and not a moment before. It made Castiel happy to know that even after such a short time, he understood some of Dean’s personality.  

At work, a missing person case had come to a grisly end. One Jack Klein was found beaten and stabbed just outside of the city limits. He’d been missing for over a week. Mrs. Klein was insistent that her son would never run away and that he must have been kidnapped. There was no evidence to support her claims. The young man was just nineteen and had a whole life ahead of him. Castiel tried to comfort the woman, but it was no use.  

At home that night, Castiel got out his lone—and mostly empty—bottle of Jack Daniels and poured himself a glass. Some days, being a police officer made you feel like you were a hero, and sometimes it just made you feel shitty that you couldn’t do anything in time.  

Idly going through the mail that had piled up over the last few days, Castiel spotted a manila envelope, big enough for a photograph. He rolled his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. He wasn’t ready for another round of anonymous calls and dead Angels and Demons and threats on Dean’s life. But he opened the envelope anyway.  

Inside was two pictures. In the first, a young man played basketball with some friends. The picture was taken too far away for Castiel to really see any features other than blond hair. The second picture was more familiar. It was Jack Klein, beaten and bloody but still alive. On the back was a note:  

You really should have paid attention the first time, Detective. Jack’s death is on you.    

‘Jack’s death is on you.’ Castiel rolled it over and over in his mind, not sure what it meant. Two photographs. ‘You...should have paid attention...’ Castiel sat in thought for a moment before standing quickly and grabbing all of his mail from the last few days. Nothing. He remembered the mail he picked up the day after he first slept with Dean. Is it still in the car?! Without his coat, Castiel ran out of his apartment and down to his car. In the floorboard were bits of mail that he had ignored. He found another manila envelope.  

Inside was the first picture: a young man playing basketball with some friends. On the back, the note read:   

Your anonymous caller is going to die. Secrets should stay secrets.  

Castiel dropped his head into his hands and abruptly sat down on the curb. He missed it. He missed the clues and could have prevented a death. He needed to call Benny. And Bobby. And Dispatch.  

Everyone on the case was back at the station before midnight. Castiel explained the new evidence and he could see the people before him split into angry glares and sympathetic eyes. Yes, Castiel could have prevented this from happening and he’d spend the rest of his life kicking himself.  

He walked everyone back through the deaths of Ruby, Hannah, Uriel, and Lilith. There had been no new murder cases come across his or Benny’s desks so they assumed that there weren’t anymore. Not realizing that the cases were related, Detectives Zeddmore and Spangler had a case where another man was found beaten in an alley. They thought him to be homeless, all signs and clues pointed that way. Once Castiel heard the name, he immediately linked him to the Demons: Azazel ‘Yellow Eyes’ Richards. The detectives had barely had the case for a week, but Captain Singer reminded them, not so gently, that everyone was to cross-reference murder cases for any links.  

Castiel and Benny sat down tiredly at their desks. Their anonymous caller was dead. They now had to figure out how he was involved with either God or the King of Hell.  

~~~~~  

Dean wasn’t sure why he was acting so strangely around Cas, but he was. Ever since Christmas, something had been bothering him. So, he had kissed Cas in front of his family, what of it? It had been one of their sweeter kisses. The ‘hey, you’re home from work’ kisses, the ‘you’re really cute in the morning’ kisses...it was reminiscent of that. The kiss on Christmas was familiar. Which made it terrifying.  

Dean: I’m making lasagna again  

Dean: You seemed to like it the last time you had it  

Castiel: I’m sorry, Dean, but I probably won’t be leaving work tonight.  

Dean: Everything okay?  

Castiel: There was a missing person case that ended badly today. It may be connected with something else, so I’ll be staying.  

Castiel: Thank you for the invitation, Dean.  

Dean: Yeah no problem  

Dean: Good luck  

Castiel: Thank you.  

Well, so much for that plan. Not that Dean had a plan, he just wanted to be near Castiel. His arm was starting to hurt again, okay? The proximity of the last month had made it better (and made for some electrifying sex). Jesus, it’s been three days, you teenage girl .  

Dean went back to work installing a new lock for a little old lady whose home had recently been burglarized. She wanted the best and he was going to give her the best. Maybe that had been the problem: he was too focused on Cas and not enough on his work. Dean didn’t feel like he was slacking in the work department, but he could always do better.  

“Hey, Red!” Dean called out when he arrived at the office.  

“You’re in a cheery mood this afternoon.”  

“No, I’m not; I’m normal.”  

“Right,” Charlie said skeptically. “This morning you were moping around here like your pet died or something. Did Mrs. Eddington feed you pie?”  

“No,” he said, pointing at Charlie, “but that would’ve been awesome.”   

“Well?”  

“I’m gonna go home and make dinner for Bobby and the guys. Bad case according to Cas.” Dean enjoyed feeding people; it was how he showed that he cared. He walked into his office and began piling stuff into his duffle and transferring other stuff out.  

“Oh, that sucks,” Charlie said from the reception area.  

“Yeah, so I’m thinking lasagna and the works.”  

“’Works’? Like you’re gonna fix a salad?”  

“Psh. I’ll buy one and throw it at Benny to fix.” Dean came out of the office grinning.  

Charlie laughed and waved the man off.   

Dean stopped by the grocery store and bought everything for lasagna, garlic bread, and (ew) a salad. By the time he got home, it was late afternoon. He figured that the food would be ready by seven-ish and he could take everything up to the station around seven-thirty.  

At seven-forty-five, Dean stepped into the police station and nodded to the receptionist. Mrs. Tran had known Dean since he was a teenager and waved him along. Dean headed to the elevator and took it up to the third floor. Walking out into the bullpen was an experience. He’d forgotten how many cops actually worked in this town. At the front of the room, he saw Castiel and Benny standing by a large, moveable whiteboard. There were pictures tacked across the top and notes made below and beside them. At the bottom looked to be a timeline.  

Dean watched as a few of the guys’ noses started twitching at the smell of cheese and garlic. One guy even closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. Dean was content to stand by the elevator and watch until suddenly Castiel’s head popped up from what he was writing and his eyes bored into Dean’s. Dean could feel his arm start to burn and throb. Benny stopped talking and everyone turned around to look at Dean, just standing there holding a casserole dish and a large bag.  

“Dean? What are you--”  

“Brought food. You said it’d be a long night; didn’t want y’all to starve or anything.”  

Castiel’s eyes softened and there was just the tiniest hint of a smile on his face.  

“Thank you, Dean,” he said gratefully.  

Dean nodded and, had he not had the casserole dish in both hands, would have been rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment. Instead, he looked down at the floor and tried not to blush too hard.   

“I’ll, uh, just...I’ll leave this stuff here for when y’all want it. I--”  

“We want it now!” someone called out from across the room.   

Bobby rolled his eyes but called for a break. Dean walked over to an empty, unused desk and sat everything down. In the bag, he pulled out paper plates, forks, knives, napkins, homemade garlic bread, and a bagged salad with (ick) vinaigrette dressing (that he made, what of it). He also had a spatula and serving tongs. After everything was set up, Dean stepped back with a smile on his face. He felt Castiel come up beside him, standing nearly arm to arm with the man.  

“This was very thoughtful of you, Dean. Thank you again.”  

This time, Dean did rub the back of his neck as he shrugged. “No big deal, Cas,” he said quietly. He cleared his throat. “Anyway, I, uh, better head out. Let you guys eat and work and all that.”   

Dean turned to his left to see Cas standing there close by, his eyes that had been looking at Dean’s profile now looked into his eyes. Dean didn’t know what to call the look that Cas was giving him; he went with ‘fond’. Other than his family, Dean didn’t think anyone had ever looked at him that way. It made him feel warm and fuzzy like he’d never experienced before.   

Dean cleared his throat again and looked down to Castiel’s lips. They were still the pink, slightly-chapped lips the man had always had. They were the lips that brought him pleasure, and yet something was different. Dean looked back up into Castiel’s eyes before leaning forward and capturing Cas’ mouth with his. It was a soft kiss that had both men sighing into it. Dean’s hands came up to cup Cas’ face and he deepened the kiss only a little, just letting his tongue brush against Cas’ lower lip before sucking it between his own and giving it a little nip.   

He gave Cas one last peck on the lips before smiling lightly and backing away to the elevator. Neither man stopped smiling.  

Chapter Text

Bodies kept on piling up; the morgue was getting full. Angels and Demons lay side by side in the cold room. Without their anonymous caller, Castiel and Benny never knew what was going to happen or when. There was a shootout at a nightclub owned by the Demons that involved more than a few Angels. When questioned, neither Chuck Shurley—God—nor Crowley—the King of Hell—had any information to give.  

It was like everything related to the two groups was happening just outside of Castiel’s periphery. He knew the players (or most of them), but he never got a good look at who was pulling the trigger.  

At Dean’s one night for dinner, he had a breakthrough. Fork halfway to his mouth, Castiel said “What if they’re decoys?”  

Dean stopped chewing. “Decoys? You’re gonna have be more specific, babe.”  

Castiel slowly put his fork down and went to the living room to get his bag. He returned with a notebook and pen. He wrote down two columns, one headed with ANGELS and one headed with DEMONS. He then wrote down all of the people who had died who were affiliated with one of the two groups. The numbers matched exactly. Everyone was relatively low-level in the organizations except for the second two people to die.  

“Why would you go killing off half of your gang? Why would you go kill half of someone else’s gang? What are they hiding?” Castiel looked up to a confused Dean. “I need to go back to the station.”  

Castiel stood up from the table but leaned down to give Dean a kiss goodbye before gathering his jacket and other things. He was gone from the house in minutes.  

“Why kill half of each? Are you trying to combine? Are you trying to cull? Why? What’s so important that you get rid of some of your organization? And why so quickly?” Questions tumbled around in Castiel’s brain and some ended up being spoken to the quiet inside of his car. He knew he was speeding, but he had to get back to the station. He called Benny on the way.  

“There a reason you called me back up here, Chief?” Benny asked in annoyance when he arrived.  

“What if they’re decoys?”  

“You already lost me.”  

“The people being killed, what if they’re decoys? What if while we’re chasing down who killed who, there’s something bigger going on in the background?”  

“What, like Shurley and Crowley are planning some apocalypse for the city?”  

“Maybe. Maybe the deaths are so even because they’re trading off? Maybe they’re working together on something and needed a way to keep the police busy until they were done?”  

“But what would be so massive to necessitate so many killings?”  

Castiel took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”  

The two men sat and brainstormed. They asked other detectives and officers in the room. They called Bobby. No one had any ideas.  

“’As above, so below’.” Castiel said quietly.  

“What, brotha’?”  

Castiel looked up from his notes and up to Benny. “’As above, so below’. What if the two factions are trying to join forces and take over the city together. Joining these two groups could be catastrophic for the city. Between the two of them, drug runners and human trafficking would be the least of our worries.”  

The men thought the rest of the night about what it would mean for the city if both Angels and Demons ruled the streets.  

~~~~~  

“You used to be an Angel and then you turned into a Demon. Why?”   

Benny and Castiel decided to run with their idea that both the Angels and Demons were going to take over the city and reached out to the one person who knew information on both factions: Lucifer.  

“I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about, Detective.”  

Castiel rolled his eyes so hard that his whole body became involved.  

“I’m talking about the fact that you were an Angel in your teens and somehow ended up a Demon. Is that how Jack came under the protection of the Angels? Hm? You and Kelly Klein sign him over?”  

Lucifer looked shocked.  

“Why are you talking about Jack? He’s a good kid. He’s not an Angel, alright; Shurley just said they’d keep an eye on him.”  

“Jack’s dead,” Benny said bluntly. “He was our anonymous caller and now he’s dead. So, either start talkin’ or we send you back to your hole.”  

Lucifer rolled his eyes and settled into his chair.  

“I didn’t like it when Chuck was being groomed to take over, alright? Sue me, I was a little shit and I thought I was gonna be God and got pissed when I wasn’t. One of Crowley’s guys found me wandering around one of their areas and asked who I was, what I wanted. I told him honestly and he took me to Crowley. For a few years, I was a mole, but when Chuck took over for good, he cast me out. Crowley wanted me, so, boom, Demon.”  

“You’d gotten Kelly pregnant by then though, hadn’t you?” Castiel asked.  

Lucifer sighed. “Yeah. I went to Chuck about it—and boy that was a fucking fight—but he agreed to keep an eye out for Jack as long as I let him be an Angel when he got to the right age. I said fuck it, fine. I didn’t know they were gonna start grooming him, too.”  

“Grooming him?”  

“That’s the word I got. He’d go in on meetings with Chuck and sometimes with Chuck and Crowley--”  

“Wait, God and the King of Hell had pow-wows?” Benny asked incredulously.  

“Call ‘em whatever the fuck you want, alright; yes, they met on occasion.” Lucifer got quiet and then huffed a tiny laugh. “That’s probably why he started calling the police: he knew what was going to happen and wanted to stop it.” He looked up at the detectives. “Probably would’ve stopped this whole war if he’d had the chance.”  

“War?”  

“It’s been brewing for years, guys; tell me you’ve noticed.”  

The deaths, the drugs, the trafficking—they'd all gotten worse in the last decade. It could’ve been contributed to the city growing and expanding and taking in other rural areas, but it was down to the Angels and Demons...one group to get you high and the other to keep you low.  

“Do you have any idea who could have killed him?”  

“Honestly? It could’ve been anyone,” Lucifer said sadly and looked out the little window in the interrogation room.  

Castiel didn’t want to feel sorry for him. “So, what’s your take on all of the killings right now?”  

“Something big is about to go down and everyone’s scrambling to jump ship like rats. Somebody high up enough gets the word and you’re a goner.”  

Castiel and Benny looked at each other. Benny stood up and walked over to the door to knock on the glass. The guard opened the door and let the detectives out.  

“Think he was tellin’ the truth?”  

“Yes, unfortunately,” Castiel replied as he buttoned his suit jacket and put on his trench coat. Dean said he needed another one, that this one looked old and ratty, but it suited him just fine.  

Back at the station, the two detectives split up, one to talk with the captain and one to start on the paperwork.  

“Oh, hello, Detective Novak!” Alfie called as the men entered the bullpen. “You had a package delivered while you were out; I’ve set it on your desk.” He looked like he wanted a head pat and Castiel just barely resisted.  

“Yes, thank you, Alfie.”  

Benny hid a snicker inside a cough. Based on the look Alfie made, the trick didn’t quite work.  

“Dean sending you love notes?”  

“Doubtful,” Castiel told Benny, though he was curious as to who would send him a package at work. He lifted it and felt the weight; pretty standard. He sniffed at it; smelled like brown paper and cardboard. He listened to it; quiet as a mouse. He was just about to rip the paper open when he noticed the handwriting on the front. Castiel quickly went through another case file on his desk, finding what he needed almost immediately. He turned the photograph over and the handwriting matched.   

The picture he had received of him and Dean in the kitchen had handwriting on it that matched the box sitting on his desk. He called the bomb squad instead of trying to open it up. Once they had it safely tucked away, Castiel called Dean.  

“Hey, what’s up, detective?”  

“Are you home or at work?”  

“Out on a job, actually, why? Want some afternoon delight?” Castiel could hear Dean laugh across the line. He rolled his eyes.  

“No, Dean. I need you to call Charlie. Tell her to not open any packages you’ve received, do you understand?” Castiel heard a tool drop down into what was presumably Dean’s toolbox.  

“What do you mean ‘don’t open them’? We get supplies and shit--”  

“Dean, a bomb was sent to the station today. For me. I can only imagine that there would be one for you, too, after the photographs of us were sent to me.”  

Dean was quiet for a moment. “You’re not kidding, are you?”  

Castiel took a deep breath and let it out, closing his eyes. “No, Dean, I am not kidding. Call Charlie and tell her, and then when you get home don’t open any packages either. Call the station or me immediately. Do you understand?”  

“Yeah, Cas,” Dean answered quietly. “Thanks for the head’s up.”  

“Of course, Dean. I lo—I'll see you later.”  

Dean was quiet for a beat. “Bye, Cas.”  

Castiel sat down heavily in his desk chair, tipped his head back, and rubbed at his eyes. It’d been a long day and was only going to get longer.  

Chapter Text

Dean convinced Castiel to come over for dinner after his shift ended. He planned to make burgers and had told Castiel that his were the best. What he didn’t say was that this was a peace offering for having to call the station twice in one day having found a package at both his office and his home. Castiel must be worried sick.  

At seven on the dot, Castiel knocked on the door. Dean had been thinking of giving the man a key, but fuck, he wasn’t ready for that yet. He was barely ready for the feelings he already had toward the man. Dean had never met anyone like Castiel. He was awkward and serious and hot and sexy and surprisingly funny. He was Dean’s True Mate. Dean didn’t know if it was the mark or his heart that told him he was falling for the guy. Dean tended not to believe either one.   

Castiel came into the house practically dragging; he looked exhausted. Dean kissed the man soundly and took his coat, telling him to sit down.  

“This smells delicious, Dean.”  

“I told you my burgers were the best,” the man replied with a grin.  

Dean turned around to see Castiel leaning his forearms on his thighs and holding his head in his hands. Dean walked over and stood to the side of the chair. He reached up to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair and scratched at his scalp. Dean heard Castiel heave a large sigh and felt him look up. Castiel’s hands came to sit on Dean’s waist and pulled the man closer. Castiel pushed his chair back a bit and brought Dean to sit in his lap.   

The men stared at each other, both had concern written all over their faces. Dean pecked a kiss on Castiel’s lips and stood up to go into the kitchen. He turned the heat off the burgers and turned off the oven for the fries. He walked back to Castiel and held out a hand.  

“Let me take care of you, Cas,” Dean said quietly, pulling the man to his feet and down the hall.  

Once in Dean’s bedroom, the man pushed Castiel to sit on the bed, legs spread. Dean kneeled down and removed Cas’ shoes and socks, rubbing his feet as he did so. Next, he began to undo Cas’ pants. He undid the buckle, letting it clank to either side of the zipper. Dean pulled at the button and tugged down the zipper before reaching into Cas’ waistband to tug the pants down.  

Cas leaned back on his hands and lifted his hips to help Dean remove the slacks. He was left in his neon boxer briefs, dress shirt, and tie. Dean’s eyes never left his. He massaged the tops of Cas’ thighs, taking in the feeling of muscle and strength. How many times had he been spread across these thighs over these last weeks? Dean’s hands once again crawled upward. He rubbed his hand over the growing bulge in Cas’ shorts and watched his dick plump up further. Once fully hard, Dean took Cas out of the shorts through the slit and leaned down to lick at the tip of his cock.  

Dean’s arms reached around Cas’ waist and pulled him closer as Dean sunk down further on the man’s cock. Cas exhaled slowly but deeply and he moved his hips in a little circle. Dean’s thumbs pressed into his hipbones to make him sit still. Dean continued to take Cas deeper into his mouth and throat, swallowing around the man once he was in as far as he could go. Dean always enjoyed his lack of a gag reflex. Giving head wasn’t his favorite past-time, but he was damn good at it.  

Dean swirled his tongue once then twice around the head of Cas’ dick and the man beneath him gasped. Dean moaned lightly, causing Cas to jerk his hips up again. One of Cas’ hands went to his tie to loosen it and Dean popped off of him to stop the motion.   

“I’ll do it,” Dean said with a rough-sounding voice.  

Cas let his hand drop and watched as Dean rose up again and began undoing his tie. Slowly, Dean loosened the knot and untied it, leaving the tie handing around Cas’ neck. Next, he went for the buttons of his dress shirt. This required Dean to move in a little closer and his abdomen rubbed against Cas’ exposed cock, making the man twitch. When all the buttons were done, Dean reached up and pushed the shirt off Cas’ shoulders and immediately went for the bottom of his undershirt. He pulled it off quickly, with no fanfare.  

Cas sat on Dean’s bed practically naked while the man in front of him kneeled fully clothed. Dean must have removed his shoes and socks while he was sucking Cas because the man rose up on bare feet and walked into the V of Cas’ legs. He wrapped his arms around the man’s shoulders and leaned down for a kiss. It started as a brief touch of lips but soon became open-mouthed and sloppy. Dean used one of his hands to pull back and push Cas down onto the bed. The man went willingly.  

Never stopping the kiss, Dean crawled on top of Cas and sat on his thighs. Cas moved to help Dean remove his clothing, but stopped. Something in Dean’s eyes told him that Dean was running the show and he should keep his hands to himself. Sure enough, in the next breath, Dean pulled away and peeled off his t-shirt. The two men scooted up the bed. Going back down to Cas lying on the bed, Dean rubbed his chest against Cas’ and made sure that their stomachs touched every few moments.  

Castiel was getting overwhelmed by the smell of Dean’s slick. He wanted to touch and taste, but Dean had him right where he wanted. The man gave Cas a final kiss and then got up off the bed to take his jeans and boxers off. Castiel suddenly needed to know what Dean was like during his heat. Was he slow and heady like this or did he demand fast and hard every time? Maybe someday Dean would let him experience it.  

Once undressed, Dean climbed back on top of Castiel and continued kissing him.  

“You can touch now, Cas,” Dean said quietly.  

Castiel’s hands immediately went to Dean’s face to turn the man’s head where he wanted so that he could deepen the kiss further. When that was done, Castiel’s hands took a slow ride down Dean’s back and to his ass. He rubbed one finger down Dean’s crack and moaned at the slick he felt there.  

“Soon, Alpha,” Dean told him. Dean rolled over to the side and Castiel made to follow him. “Stay. Take your shorts off and then stay on your back. I’m gonna ride you,” Dean said slowly and carefully like he didn’t want Castiel to break any rules. Cas returned to laying on his back and got his shorts off while keeping his lips tangled with Dean’s.  

Dean rose up on his knees. He scooted back just enough and was low enough, that Cas’ dick caught on Dean’s rim. Both men moaned. Dean reached down behind himself to hold Cas steady as he sunk down slowly.  

“Gods, Dean ,” Cas cried.  

Dean kept a slow and steady pace of lifting up and dropping back down onto Cas’ dick. Neither one would come from this pace, but Dean soon began grinding as he settled back down onto Cas’ hips. His hands were like vices on Dean’s hips, moving down to his thighs on occasion and then back up. Dean was quiet save for a few moans when he hit a good spot. After a bit, Dean leaned forward and once again went back to kissing Cas. He was pretty much out of patience at this point, so Cas grabbed Dean by his ass, pulled the man down onto his dick, and rolled. Dean let out a half gasp, half groan.  

Once on top, Cas wasted no time in beginning to pick up the pace of their lovemaking. His eyes never left Dean’s and soon they were laying forehead to forehead, just breathing each other’s air. As his knot began to swell, Cas began murmuring to Dean, “I love you. I love you, Dean. Dean .” Sliding into Dean that last time and locking inside him was one of the best moments of his life. It took all his willpower not to lean over and take Dean as his official mate, but he ground his teeth and kept his mouth on Dean’s.  

Both men came panting, Dean coming without being touched; the friction of their stomachs doing all the work. They stayed forehead to forehead and rubbed noses, coming down from their highs. Dean was the first to open his eyes. “I love you, Cas,” he said, tears in his eyes. Cas smiled down at the man and kissed him soundly. He rolled them to their sides in order to be more comfortable.   

“Now what?” Dean asked quietly.  

“What do you mean, beloved?”  

“We’ve said the ‘I love yous’, isn’t mating supposed to come next?”  

Castiel rose up on an elbow so that he was slightly over Dean when he asked, “Dean, do you love me?”  

Dean nodded. Castiel nodded.  

“Then we love each other,” he said, cupping Dean’s face with his right hand. “Everything else is extra. Do you hear me, Dean? We don’t ever have to mate if we can have this.”  

Dean looked at the man in awe and then lifted his head up to kiss Cas. “Yeah, Cas,” he said with a smile, “Yeah that sounds good.”  

Chapter Text

Castiel lay next to a sleeping Dean and let his mind wander. Now what? He and Benny were no closer to finding any of the killers of any of the victims (save for Metatron, but he died months ago). All they knew were ANGELS and DEMONS. If Lucifer could be believed, they were all teaming up to wreak havoc on the city. They should have asked him why he resorted to a life of extracurricular crime, robbing small jewelry stores and the like. In fact...  

Castiel slipped out of bed and found a pair of pants to put on. He walked soundlessly over to his suit jacket lying on the floor. In the pocket was his cellphone. He crept out into the living room and called Benny.  

“Why the hell are you wakin’ me up so early, Castiel?”  

“Why was Lucifer stealing?”  

“What?”  

“Why was Lucifer stealing? Why was he giving stuff to the Angels to fence? What was Ruby doing in that house, Benny?”  

“You’re goin’ back to square one,” Benny said exasperatedly.  

“I’m going back to square one.”  

Benny sighed loudly. “Alright, call me up if you find somethin’, otherwise I’ll see you Monday.”  

“Benny--”  

“I’ll see you Monday , Castiel.”  

Benny had specifically taken the weekend off for his mate’s birthday. He wanted to take her out and spoil her a bit since this case—these cases—had gotten so out of hand. Castiel didn’t blame him. He felt the same way about Dean right now. How would he even go about spoiling Dean? Give the man raw meat to cook as he sees fit? Take him to a car show? Castiel would have to think about this another time. Valentine’s Day was just around the corner, but right now, the case(s) came first.  

Castiel grabbed a notebook he had left at Dean’s specifically for moments like this: lying in bed at night, can’t sleep, thinking about a case, and an idea comes to you. He stayed up the rest of the night, rather, early morning, jotting down notes and asking questions.  

By the time Dean woke up at six, the coffee pot had already brewed a pot and a half and was working on filling up that last half.   

“You weren’t in bed,” Dean said, scratching at his stomach. He was a pair of boxers, possibly from the night before, but Castiel couldn’t remember in the best way.  

“No, I’m sorry. I couldn’t sleep.” Castiel turned his face up to look at Dean and got a kiss on the lips.  

“At least you made coffee. That’ll forgive a lot of sins.”  

Dean came and sat with Castiel as he went over his notes again.   

“Thank you for last night, Dean,” Castiel said looking up at the man in front of him.  

“It ain’t like having sex with you is hard, Cas,” Dean said with a smile. “I--”  

“No, I mean more than that. For helping me focus on what’s important, for relaxing me after a stressful day, for... For telling me you love me.”  

Dean sat quietly and sipped at his coffee. The tips of his ears were downright red.   

“Yeah, well...” Dean paused for another sip of coffee, “maybe I want you stickin’ around for a while.”  

The men looked at each other and, as tentative smiles began on their faces, the doorbell rang.  

“Who the hell is coming over at six a.m. on a Friday?” Dean asked aloud.  

Castiel, barely pausing to shrug, was up from the table and getting his gun from the holster he had left on the table before answering the door. He looked through the peephole to see a messenger’s cap but no face. He undid the locks on the door and opened it slowly.  

“Good morning! I--” the woman began, awfully cheerful for such an early time in the morning. She saw the gun, however, and backed away slowly. “I-I’m sorry. I’m supp-supposed to g-give this to Detective N-Novak.” She held out an envelope as far as her arm would reach.  

“I’m Detective Novak,” he said gruffly, putting the safety back on the gun and then putting it in the back of his pants. “I’ll take that.”  

The woman nodded quickly and once the deed was done, she ran back to her delivery van and sped out of the driveway.  

“Dude. That was my mail lady, what the hell!”  

“At six in the morning, Dean?” Castiel asked in exasperation.  

Dean raised an eyebrow and tilted his head in consideration. Castiel brought the envelope into the kitchen and began to look it over in the light. It wasn’t big enough for a bomb—at least not a bomb that he knew of. It was a plain white envelope with Detective Novak written in plain block lettering. Castiel tested the weight and thought that it might be a little too heavy for a sheet of paper. He tore open a corner and watched to see if a powdery substance exploded out, but there was nothing. He was holding a plain envelope.  

It wasn’t a plain envelope. Inside were three pictures, all taken the night before, all taken of him and Dean in bed together. They were taken from outside the bedroom window, with what range camera was anyone’s guess. None had any writing on the back, but Castiel knew this for what it was: another threat on his and Dean’s lives.  

~~~~~  

Dean was getting pretty tired of having his picture taken without his permission. The first picture, okay, that could’ve been a reporter or nosey neighbor. Him and Cas having sex in his bedroom? That was stalker material. But was it Dean’s stalker or Castiel’s? Dean had tried to ask, hoping to lighten the mood, but all he got in return was a stony face and a lifted eyebrow.  

This time the police showed up, at least he didn’t have to be fingerprinted. He opted to stay in the kitchen pouring out coffee red-faced rather than follow Cas into his bedroom giving Benny and the other officers a play-by-play. Not that Dean thought he would be explicit about anything, but come on. They’re having sex in those pictures.  

First seeing them, Dean had wondered (silently) if he could keep them or have copies made.   

The police entourage stayed until mid-morning. They’d dusted for fingerprints around the window both inside and out, they’d fingerprinted Cas for a change to rule him out as any odd or mysterious fingerprints. Dean was tired, and if he was tired, he knew that Castiel must be exhausted. Castiel had been living with this case for almost as long as he had known Dean. And why target Dean in the first place? It wasn’t like he was anyone special. Sure, he could open a lock, but that was about it.  

Dean was beginning to think that whoever this was just wanted to play with Castiel, get him riled up and focused on one thing so that he couldn’t focus on another. He told his theory to Benny who agreed with him.   

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinkin’, too, cher,” Benny said and turned toward Dean in the kitchen. “This is personal now and we don’t know why.”  

“What do you mean, you ‘don’t know why’? You’re the police. Does Cas have some kind of stalker or what?”  

Benny, still turned toward Dean, looked out the front door to see Castiel talking with some of the other officers. “I don’t know, Dean. We’re workin’ this case, have been for months, and this is the second time you’ve been brought into it. It’s messin’ with Castiel’s head.”  

“Well, no shit, Benny. Why don’t you go talk to these people or something, huh?”  

“Funny thing is, we have.”  

Castiel came back into the house, closing the door behind him. He looked over to Benny and Dean and attempted a smile that ended up being more grimace. Castiel came up to Dean first, acknowledging Benny with a nod. He kissed Dean on the mouth and grabbed the man into a hug. Dean went willingly, wrapping his arms around Castiel’s shoulders and tucking his face into the man’s neck, and breathing deeply. Even through the blockers, Dean caught the slight smell of burned coffee.  

He pulled back, hands on Castiel’s shoulders. “What’s goin’ on, Cas?” Dean asked worriedly.   

Castiel shook his head. “I have no idea, Dean. I’m so sorry you’ve been dragged into this again.”  

“Castiel, you wanna come with me to the station, or would you rather stay here with Dean?”  

Castiel looked back and forth between both men. Dean could see the indecision on the man’s face.   

“Go, Cas. I’ll stay here, lock the doors, cancel my appointments. I’ll stay here; promise.”   

Castiel leaned forward to kiss Dean once more. “Please do, beloved.”  

Benny walked away to get Castiel’s work bag and took it out to the car.   

“I love you, Dean. Please be safe.”  

“I’ll be here all day, Cas, promise,” Dean leaned in again and put his lips on Castiel’s neck. “I love you, too.”  

Chapter Text

“I am over this, Benny. This case needs to be solved so we can get on with our lives.” Castiel was fuming. Not only was his and Dean’s special night ruined by something vile, but another facet of the case was re-opened.  

“What were you saying about Lucifer stealing? Do you think that he was doing something for one group against the other?”  

“I have no fucking clue, Benny.” He scrubbed at his face with his hands.  

Arriving at the station, Castiel practically leaped from the car and headed into the building. Benny tried his best to keep up. Up on the third floor, Castiel was ranting to everyone within hearing distance.  

“This has to stop. Call Bobby, Benny. We need to discuss this in greater detail.”  

Almost forty-five minutes later, Bobby arrived at the station and met up with Castiel and Benny.  

“We’re going nowhere on this case. I’m being targeted and Dean is involved again for whatever reason,” Castiel stopped and thought for a moment. “What if I took myself out of the equation? Do you think things would die down? Or speed up? Let each side think that the other won? That they had both won? Surely, me being gone would get this solved, right? They would leave Dean alone?”  

The room was silent.  

“Brotha, you better not be thinkin’ what I think you’re thinkin’.” Benny wasn’t amused. This case had him climbing the walls, too. His mate wasn’t involved though, so he could almost see reason. Almost. “Dean’s gonna kill you if this doesn’t,” Benny said without humor.  

“What Dean doesn’t know won’t hurt him. I--”  

Bobby looked unamused. “Come into my office so I can explain in painstaking detail how much of a dumbass you are.”  

“Do I have a choice?”  

“No.” Bobby stalked off down the hall, heading for his office. He had no doubt that Castiel would follow. “Shut the damn door, boy.”  

Castiel shut the door and waited for instructions.   

“Have a seat, idjit.” Bobby indicated a visitor’s chair as he sat down in his own well-worn leather desk chair. “Do you know why you’re here, Novak?”  

“Not particularly.”  

“Because your idea is dumb as shit,” Bobby said, leaning forward.  

Castiel rolled his eyes at his superior. “It’s all I know to do, Captain. Bobby. This case has stalled and focused back on Dean and I. I think I know of a way to draw everyone back out. In fact, I know I do.”  

Bobby sighed. ”Dean is going to kill you, y’know. I’ve never seen that boy so happy. If you go through with this, you better explain to him what’s going on and why.”  

“We’ll see.”  

“No, see, this is where you’re being a dumbass, Castiel. Tell that boy or I’ll tell him for you.”  

Castiel looked away from his boss and gazed out the window at the city instead. It was getting dark, four p.m. dark for this part of the world. The sky was mostly gray from the earlier rain, but there were streaks of pink and purple closer to the sunset. Castiel didn’t know why, but the few random colors were comforting.  

“I can’t promise anything, Bobby.”  

Bobby stared hard at the younger man, knowing that his son was about to be thrown under the bus and pushed in front of a train at the same time. He was not confident in Castiel’s idea, but it was the best one they had.  

A week later it was Dean’s birthday and Sam wanted to throw a party. Dean was the big 3-3 and Sam decided to celebrate—the fact that he was still in his 20’s.  

Dean’s family, friends, and coworkers gathered in the backyard around the firepit as Dean grilled burgers. After everyone had food and drink, Castiel pulled Sam aside.  

“I need to talk to you about something,” he said quietly.  

Sam looked a little nervous, but as he looked out at the party and saw things were going well, he nodded and followed Castiel inside.  

In the kitchen, Sam asked, “What’s up, man?”  

“Not here,” Castiel said cryptically.  

Sam frowned as Castiel led him into the spare bedroom and shut the door. Castiel took a couple of deep breaths before speaking. He looked up into Sam’s kind hazel eyes.  

“I have to go away for a while and I need you to keep an eye on Dean,” he finally said.  

Sam sort of smiled at Castiel, who was shaking his head.  

“Things have gotten out of hand with this case. Benny and I, as well as Bobby and a few others, agree that I should...go away for a while, let things settle down for a month or so, and then rejoin the investigation.” Castiel left out the part where most everyone thought the plan was stupid.  

“Why are you telling me this, shouldn’t you tell Dean?”  

“I can’t.”  

“You’re at least going to tell him you’re leaving though, right?”  

Castiel looked down at his feet.  

“ Right, Castiel?”  

“ I can’t . If he knows, the case might not end the way we want it to.”  

“So, what, you’re leaving my brother—randomly, I might add—for a month? I know you guys aren’t mated or anything, but this is serious, dude. You need to tell him.”  

“I c--”  

The door opened and Dean stuck his head in.   

“Y’all are missing all the fun; come back outside,” he said with a large smile on his face.   

He walked into the room and grabbed Castiel’s hand, pulling him out the door. Castiel took one last look at Sam before being led down the hall and back outside.  

Chapter Text

Castiel was acting strangely. He was more affectionate than ever and told Dean ‘I love you’ at every opportunity. After Castiel said it one night as Dean sat food in front of him, he reached his breaking point.

“Okay, Cas, what is this? You’ve been actin’ weird for like two weeks now.” Dean sat down next to Castiel at the table, forgetting his own dinner for the time being.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I just thought you should know that I appreciate and love you.”

Dean tilted his head to the side and squinted his eyes. “Are you dyin’, man?”

“Of course not!” Castiel said indignantly.

“Then what is your deal, dude?” Dean grinned over at him.

“I...love you,” Castiel said, shrugging.

Dean narrowed his eyes and pointed two fingers in Castiel’s direction before bringing them back to his own eyes in an ‘I’m watching you’ gesture, and got up to get his own plate. Dean shook his head and began to worry more about his boyfriend.

A week later, Dean and Castiel were coming out of Dean’s shop and heading down the street for lunch. Castiel had his arm around Dean’s waist and the two were leaned in close to one another against the chill.

“Are you ready for lunch, Dean?”

“Yeah, man; I’m starving,” he said with a smile.

“I think you’ll like what I have planned after that.”

“Oh yeah, what’ll we do after that?” Dean asked seductively.

Castiel backed away from Dean, looking around the sidewalk and across the street. He started to lean forward to talk into Dean’s ear when, instead of sweet nothings whispered in his ear, Dean heard loud popping noises. In reflex, he ducked down and leaned back, covering his head, and hit the wall of the building behind him. He saw Castiel still standing in the same spot.

Then, Dean watched as red spots bloomed on Castiel’s white dress shirt. No.

“No!” he cried, moving closer to the Alpha. Blood began flowing slowly from the corner of Castiel’s mouth as he fell to the sidewalk. Dean fell to his knees and skidded the last inch to get to Castiel’s side. “Cas! Cas!” he called, cradling the man’s head. “Castiel!”

There was no response. Dean could hear sirens in the periphery of his mind, but he didn’t associate them with the scene in front of him. He felt around Castiel’s neck for a pulse and found one. It was very fast and Dean knew that that wasn’t a good thing.

He felt arms grab him around the waist and pull him away.

“No! No! That’s...He’s my mate, please!”

“Cher, just stand back,” Benny said into Dean’s ear to be heard over the sirens. The paramedics filed out in front of Dean and Benny, rushing over to Castiel.

“His heart! He has a heartbeat.” Dean thrashed in Benny’s arm. “He has a heartbeat; he’ll be fine.” He slowly began calming down keeping that one thought in his head: he has a heartbeat, he has a heartbeat, he has a heartbeat. That’s why he was so surprised when the paramedics stopped moving fast and began to slow their work. One rushed to the ambulance and pulled something out. The defib-thingy! This’ll work! Instead of tearing open Castiel’s shirt to begin resuscitating him, however, the paramedic spread a sheet over him...over the body.

The fight went out of Dean right away. He could feel the tears running down his face. Benny’s arms were the only thing holding him upright. Dean began shaking his head back and forth.

“No. Nononono,” he began. He tried to get out of Benny’s grip once more. This wasn’t happening. He watched as the paramedics lifted Castiel onto a stretcher and rolled him past Dean and Benny. Dean could see spots of bright red on the sheet and cringed. On the ground, where the Alpha had laid, was a puddle of blood. Dean busted out of Benny’s arms and before the man could grab hold again, Dean was on his knees, throwing up into the gutter. He fell back onto his ass as the ambulance drove away.

The sound of police car sirens, of people yelling, faded out of Dean’s consciousness. He sat on the curb with Benny trying to talk to him in between yelling at other officers to stay away. Dean sat in shock as the world kept turning.

Chapter Text

Dying hurt. Despite the bullet-proof vest and the blood packs, the blanks fired at his person were painful. What hurt the most, though, was watching and hearing Dean react to his ‘death’. Castiel hoped that this plan would be worth it.   

For the first week, Dean was his priority. Castiel relied on Benny and Sam for updates on Dean. Without a funeral (in his real living will he had a cremation request), the man didn’t have a chance to get any closure. Castiel hoped that this plan wouldn’t have to last very long; he was putting a lot of trust in Benny and the other officers to solve the case.  

The second week, Castiel got word that Lucifer admitted to robbing jewelry stores for his own gain. He was fencing the jewels with Metatron because he could get a better deal than with a Demon. He killed Metatron because the man threatened to go to both God and the King of Hell to let them know about Lucifer’s extracurricular activities and not cutting them in. He still refused to take responsibility for killing Ruby. The detectives were left with the question of why was she killed in Lucifer’s home and put in Lucifer’s safe if Lucifer himself did not commit the crime?  

The third week, Purgatory opened. It was a joint business venture between Chuck Shurley and Fergus Crowley. Only the police thought it was odd. It was a new nightclub/strip club. Bobby immediately had undercover officers in place. There were drug deals, prostitution, and talks of trafficking. They monitored the location closely. For the first week, things were relatively quiet, but then during their second week of being open, people became overconfident and slipped up.  

The fourth week, Alfie of all people brought in Eve St. Clair for soliciting a police officer. His young looks often worked in his favor: he pretended to be a young kid sneaking into a strip club for the first time. After several thorough rounds of questioning, she admitted to taking the pictures of Dean and Castiel. Crowley had ordered her to sidetrack the Alpha because he was getting too close to asking the right questions and getting the right answers. Dean was never a target; just a distraction. Castiel was relieved.  

The fifth week, an undercover police officer was witness to a human trafficking exchange between Chuck Shurley and Fergus Crowley. As Benny told Castiel earlier; Angels and Demons were becoming more brazen thinking that the investigation had stalled with Castiel’s ‘death’.  

The sixth week, everyone was brought up on charges of procuring and selling drugs, prostitution, and human trafficking. The detectives and the D.A. (among others) worked tirelessly for an entire week and then some, to get everyone arrested and arraigned. Chances were good that a big percentage of both groups might end up walking away without much more than a slap on the wrist, but it was all damaging and disparaging enough to crush both Crowley’s and Shurley’s ‘legitimate’ businesses.  

The seventh week, Castiel got to go home.  

~~~~~  

Dean couldn't believe what had happened right in front of him. The man he loved, to whom he had just said those words, was dead.

The first week, Dean was in a daze. Sam was desperate to tell Dean that it was all part of the investigation, but Bobby made him stay quiet. Both men felt awful watching the once happy Omega turn into a shell of his former self. The other two men watched him closely for signs that he was drinking too much and sleeping too little...like his dad. Despite his babysitters, Dean drank at night and pushed through the hangovers in the morning.  

The second week, Dean got angry and went to the police station to yell at Bobby and Benny. Most everyone there knew what was going on with the investigation and Castiel’s ‘death’, and it was painful for them to hear and watch. Alfie and Garth had to walk away to cry somewhere that wasn’t in the open. Dean left with tears streaming down his face and his throat sore.  

The third week, Dean drank morning, noon, and night. Charlie went to his house one afternoon because he hadn’t been to work in two days and hadn’t called. She found him passed out in the kitchen, head resting on an empty bottle of Jack Daniels. She almost called 9-1-1, but Dean begged her not to. She sat with him while he showered and changed into clean clothes. He still wasn’t eating much, but Charlie was able to get a few bites of a burger into him.  

The fourth week, Dean started to get back into some semblance of a routine. He’d apologized to Bobby, and asked about Castiel’s effects; whether or not he could go to the apartment. Bobby took Dean over to the apartment himself and held his son while he broke down in the doorway.  

The fifth week, Dean dove into his work and didn’t surface. He was taking on more appointments and opted to be on-call twenty-four/seven. He reread all of his texts from Castiel. Dean called and listened to Castiel's voice message innumerable times just to hear his voice again.

The sixth week, Sam and Jess visited Dean and found it odd that he was so put together after the last month of being a wreck. Dean was tired of the sympathy and adopted his ‘fake it ‘til you make it’ attitude once again. He still lay awake at night, wishing for Castiel's warm body next to his. 

The seventh week, Dean threw out all of the remaining alcohol in the house, did several loads of laundry, cleaned the house top to bottom, and ate three meals a day. He still worked constantly and couldn’t stand to have any downtime. The house was immaculate and his shop was doing better than ever.  

Chapter Text

The doorbell rang and Dean wanted to kill whoever was at his house at six a.m. on a Sunday. Since Castiel...died, Dean had been working more than ever. He had planned to go into work in an hour and having some random jackass interrupt his new routine was not a good way to start the day. It’d taken him over a month to get to this point. He depended on that routine now, goddammit.  

Dean sat his coffee and phone down on the table and walked to the door, ready to give whoever it was an earful. Upon opening the door, however, Dean was speechless. Standing in front of him was Castiel. A very alive Castiel. Behind him, on the street by his car, stood Sam, smiling.  

Dean gaped as Castiel stood still in front of him. His blue eyes were bright as ever, his hair messy just the way Dean liked it. Castiel wore one of his awful suits that could and should have fit so much better. Castiel was looking up at Dean through dark lashes with tears shining in his eyes and a small smile on his face.  

“You asshole!” Dean cried, pushing Castiel out of the doorway and off of the porch. He curled his fist down by his side and swung up with a right hook that landed square on Castiel’s jaw. Neither man flinched.  

“I deserved that,” Castiel began, “but--”  

“No buts, Cas! You fucking died! Right in front of me. What the fuck was that?” Dean’s chest was heaving. He was sure his heart was about to beat out of his chest. The hand he punched Cas with was numb and the other hand was tingling. Dean couldn’t catch his breath and he knew that he was crying. Dean wanted to both punch Castiel again and run into his arms. His breath continued to heave.  

“Oh, Dean,” Castiel breathed, walking toward the man and wrapping him up in his arms.  

Dean was still shaking, but his arms quickly came up to wrap around Castiel’s neck and he buried his face in Castiel’s neck. The smell of burnt coffee, of contrition, shame, and sadness, made Dean’s nose twitch. Underneath all that were the richer tones of fresh-brewed coffee and the tang of dark chocolate. Dean was back in his safe space for the first time in over a month. He sobbed into Castiel's trenchcoat.

“Will you let me explain, beloved?” Castiel asked quietly.  

“Not yet,” Dean replied, his shaking becoming less and less noticeable, tears still falling. “I can’t begin to tell you how fucking pissed I am that you...fake died,” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s neck. 

“I can only say that I’m so sorry, Dean. I would never leave you if I could help it.” Castiel pulled back from Dean, tears also raining tracks down his cheeks. and cupped the man’s face in his hands. “It was so hard doing this to you, but it had to be done, beloved. I’m so sorry.” The two men hugged again; each buried in the other's neck, breathing in their scent for the first time in over a month.

A throat cleared from behind the two men and Dean backed away from Castiel.   

“I should, uh, probably go,” Sam said. “It’s good to see you again, Cas. Dean, I’ll, uh, call you tomorrow, yeah?”  

Dean leaned back from Castiel enough to point a finger and his intense gaze at his brother. “I oughta punch you, too, bitch. I can’t believe you kept this from me.”  

“Yeah,” Sam said forlornly. “I’ll let you do that the next time you see me.” He took a breath and adopted the puppiest of puppy eyes when Dean took a step toward him. . “For the record, I was under confidentiality clauses from Cas’ department as well as the police chief and D.A., so...you know...it was out of my hands.”  

“Yeah, that reminds me: I’m gonna kick Bobby’s ass, too.” Dean had regained his composure, though his eyes were still red and puffy. He was ready to lay out his plans for retribution. “I hate all of you.”  

Out of the corner of his eye, Dean saw Castiel pale considerably and he tried to take a step back. Dean grabbed his arm and held on tightly, not letting the man stray too far away. Sam waved and got in his car to head home and tell Jess everything. The other two men stood on the sidewalk and watched him pull away. Dean’s grip tightened slightly on Castiel’s arm.  

“Dean--”  

“Shut up, Cas,” Dean said, watching Sam’s car continue down the road. “You’re going to come inside, tell me everything, and then you’re going to fuck me and mate me.” He looked over to Castiel. “Any questions?”  

Castiel looked at his True Mate in stunned silence.   

“That’s what I thought,” Dean said, turning to face the house, ready to go inside.   

He had to tug on Castiel’s arm a bit to get him to turn. The man’s eyes never left Dean’s face. Dean leaned to the side and pecked a kiss on Castiel’s bluing jaw. It’d be a beautiful bruise later, and that was all Dean was concerned about: later. Right now, he needed to take his Alpha inside and mate the shit out of him.  

~~~~~  

The Dean at the door was not the Dean Castiel had left behind. He had bags and bruises under his eyes. He’d lost weight. He had a lifeless look in his eyes; it had been sucked out of them.  

Castiel knew that he had to go to Dean in person; a phone call wasn’t the best way to tell your mate you were alive. Sam offered to take Castiel from the safe house to Dean’s house and stay in the background in case things went south. Sam had kept Castiel apprised of how Dean was and what he was going through outwardly. Castiel appreciated the assist.  

All things considered, Dean took the news that Castiel was still alive relatively well. Sam had warned Castiel that there would likely be physical violence of some kind directed at either or both of them. Neither had expected the panic attack or the pure anger and then relief that wafted off of Dean. For the first time in a month, according to Sam, Dean didn’t smell like rotten apples and gone-bad cinnamon.  

Castiel had tried to steel himself for whatever Dean threw at him, whether it was curses and harsh words or fists and feet.   

“Oh, Dean...”  

Castiel felt the man trembling down to his toes. He could feel the heat from his mark along his shoulder where Dean’s arm was angled. How he must have hurt these last few weeks. Castiel felt worse than he already did.  

“Will you let me explain, beloved?” Castiel asked quietly, silently hoping that Dean would at least give him a response.  

“Not yet,” Dean replied, his shaking becoming less and less noticeable. “I can’t begin to tell you how fucking pissed I am that you...fake died,” Dean mumbled into Castiel’s neck.  

Castiel breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He’d take the anger and punches if it meant that Dean would have him back. His greatest fear was going through all of this only to have the one person he loved the most leave him.  

“I can only say that I’m so sorry, Dean. I would never leave you if I could help it.” He pulled back from Dean and cupped the man’s face in his hands. “It was so hard doing this, doing this to you, but it had to be done, beloved. I’m so sorry.”  

He vaguely heard the brothers talking. Castiel’s mind was too full of ideas on how to gain Dean’s trust forgiveness. Flowers and chocolates were definitely out. Surely an engagement ring would be thrown in his face. Perhaps--  

“--to come inside, tell me everything, and then you’re going to fuck me and mate me.” He looked over to Castiel. “Any questions?”  

Castiel couldn’t form words, just looked at his beautiful soulmate in awe.  

“That’s what I thought,” Dean said with a smirk.  

He had to practically pull Castiel to the house and inside. Dean squeezed his arm one last time before walking away to the kitchen and pulling down a new bottle of Jack Daniels. He turned slightly and took down two glasses. Dean poured generous amounts before handing Castiel his and then sitting down, waiting patiently.  

Castiel threw his drink back in one big swallow. Dean watched with his eyebrows raised. Castiel cleared his throat and sat across from Dean on the coffee table. This was it; time for the truth.  

“The first case I was assigned was the string of robberies. Benny and I found the man in question and arrested him. You saw what else he was hiding in his home. We worked trying to find Ruby’s killer until you were targeted with the photographs. Soon more and more people began dying; we would get anonymous calls telling us about the next body. All of the bodies were lackeys of either Chuck Shurley—God, or Fergus Crowley—the King of Hell. Then our anonymous caller was found dead.”  

“This doesn’t explain why you fake died, Cas. Speed it up for me, man,” Dean said impatiently.  

“It turned out that the murders were decoys to keep us off the real trail of Shurley and Crowley going into business together to create Purgatory. Drugs, prostitution, human trafficking; the works. They knew I was getting too close to the truth, so we staged my death to look like one side killed me. Me being out of the way allowed for Benny and the others to really investigate what was going on without Shurley or Crowley knowing about it,” Castiel said. “Now they’re both in custody with several of their known associates, and I’m...back.  

Dean stared at Castiel for a few minutes before speaking. “How did Shurley and Crowley know you were so close to the truth?”  

Castiel cocked his head to the side. “I...I don’t know.” That was something he’d have to ask Benny about later.  

“Do they know that you’re alive? Will you have to be undercover for the rest of your life?”  

“No, Dean; it’s over. Benny let me in on some of the interrogations. Those two are going away for a long time.”  

“And the other Angels and Demons?”  

“Were either arrested or fled the city.”  

“Lucky you,” Dean said with a sardonic chuckle. “Now what? We just pick up where we left off like nothing happened? Like you didn’t leave for a month?”  

“That is...up to you, Dean. I will respect your wishes, always. Though I do remember you saying something about mating...?” Castiel sounded hopeful at the end of his sentence.  

Dean tried to smile. “I’m not letting you go, Cas, but I’m not forgiving you yet, either.”  

“I understand, Dean.”  

“Good.” Dean reached out and pulled on Castiel’s tie to bring the man closer to him for a kiss, their first kiss in over a month. Both men groaned at the touch of lips that had become so familiar and were now fitting together again.   

Chapter Text

“Fuck, I missed you, Cas,” Dean whispered against Castiel’s lips while simultaneously loosening the man’s tie. “Fuck, can’t believe you’re really here...” Dean’s voice cracked on the last word.  

Castiel shed his suit jacket. “I’m sorry, Dean. I’m so sorry, beloved.” He began to undo the buttons of his dress shirt. The men stood up at the same time, their lips never parting.  

Dean took a step to the side, reluctant to step away from Castiel, and got rid of his t-shirt, but soon he was back on Castiel, capturing his mouth in a fierce kiss. Each man reached down to undo their respective pants and dropped them to the floor. They kicked off their shoes as they ran their hands down each other’s bodies. Castiel broke the kiss long enough to shed his dress shirt and undershirt and then began kissing his way down Dean’s neck and sucked harshly on the area between his shoulder and neck, seemingly marking the spot for his bite.  

“No, wanna see you, Cas,” Dean pleaded as he brought Castiel’s face back up to his.   

Before going back to exploring each other’s mouths, Dean leaned back, still cupping Castiel’s chin. He looked into the man’s eyes. He looked at his nose and mouth. He looked at the messy hair. His mate was back, technically from the dead, and he couldn’t look at him enough.   

Castiel reached down and lifted Dean by his thighs so that the man wrapped his arms and legs around him. In nothing but boxers, the two men made their way through the house and back to the bedroom. Dean took his turn kissing down Castiel’s throat and sucking marks here and there.  

Castiel laid Dean down on the bed gently, his mouth back on Dean’s. They’d spent 49 days apart and they planned to make up for it. Dean bucked his hips and rolled them over so that he was on top of Castiel. He moved down the man’s body, biting and sucking, paying particular attention to Castiel’s nipples.   

After a hard nip, Castiel cried out. “Dean! Please, Dean, pleasepleaseplease...”  

“What is it you want, Alpha? Hm? My tongue on your cock, your cock in my leaking hole?” Dean continued kissing down Castiel's body.

“Yes, yes, all of it.” Castiel continued to mutter praises and thanks and apologies as Dean reached his boxer briefs and pulled them off. Dean could already see Castiel’s knot beginning to form and that’s where he started first.   

He wrapped a hand around Castiel and squeezed, kissing the tip of his cock. Next, he took Castiel into his mouth and moaned, causing Castiel to buck his hips.  

“Sorry, sorry,” he panted.  

Dean pulled off. “The only place you’re allowed to buck and fuck is my ass, got it?”  

Castiel could only nod as Dean took him in his mouth again. Once the man was sufficiently spit-slick, Dean crawled his way up Castiel’s body and once again claimed his lips. Castiel took the moment to roll them again and situate himself between Dean’s legs. He thrust against Dean, both still covered by boxers.  

Dean, feeling Castiel’s weight on him once again, moaned loudly and gasped Castiel’s name. The hands that had been in Dean’s hair moved their way down the man’s body to the waistband of his boxers. He used one hand to hold himself up and the other to pull at Dean’s currently offensive underwear. At a certain point, Dean took over, pushing them down and, by the time they were at his knees, kicking them off. Castiel took the opportunity to get rid of his own.  

Feeling each other bare for the first time in a month was bliss for both Dean and Castiel. Both men rocked into the other. Castiel took them in hand and pumped his fist hard and fast. The friction was just this side of painful, but from Dean’s moans and thrusts, he figured everything was just fine.   

Dean shuddered once, twice, and came on Castiel’s hand. Both men groaned.  

“Fuck, Cas; I missed your hands.” They continued kissing, Castiel wiping his wet hand on the sheet beneath them.   

Castiel ‘hmm’d’ in agreement, still kissing Dean’s lips and jaw, and rearranged himself so that he was at Dean’s wet entrance. He glanced up at Dean, asking for permission one more time. Dean simply nodded and pulled Castiel’s face back down to his. Balancing on one forearm, Castiel took himself in hand, aimed, and moved slowly forward. Dean gasped into Castiel’s mouth. It’d been a month since the two men had touched in any way and coming together after so long was amazing. Castiel moaned loudly into Dean's mouth.

Dean started shifting his hips, trying to get Castiel to move, but the man stayed still, simply kissing Dean.   

He leaned back just enough to look into Dean’s eyes. “I love you so much, Dean,” the man said, brushing a strand of sweaty hair off of Dean’s forehead. Dean began tearing up. Dean never thought he’d hear those words again.  

Dean looked back into Castiel’s eyes and whispered, “I love you, too, Cas.” A single tear slipped down his cheek. Castiel smiled and shed a few tears himself.

Castiel began to move slowly and languidly inside Dean, causing the man’s eyes to close and his head to tip back. Castiel took advantage and began kissing Dean’s throat once again. He pulled out slowly and pushed slowly back in.  It felt like hours before Castiel began to speed up. He wanted to worship every inch of Dean, inside and out, making up for the lost time. By the time Castiel’s knot started to swell and catch on Dean’s rim, the other man was hard and leaking again.  

One hard thrust and Castiel was locked inside Dean, coming hard.   

“Now, Cas, nownownow!”   

Both men had tears running down their faces as Castiel leaned down and bit Dean right where he had worked a bruise earlier. He positioned his hand over Dean’s burn—just because he could—and bit down. Castiel felt his canines pierce flesh and tasted the sharp tang of blood. Both men came again from the intense sensation of their mating.  

They muttered ‘I love you’s’ and ‘I missed you’s’ and other sweet nothings as they came down from the intensity of their orgasms. Castiel licked at Dean’s wound to clean it; they’d bandage it later.   

“Don’t think this is me forgiving you, Cas,” Dean said seriously, nuzzling into Castiel’s neck.  

“Of course not, Dean.” Castiel turned his head and kissed Dean on the forehead. They fell asleep tangled together.  

The mark on Dean’s shoulder finally stopped aching, and the next day he would realize that it had scarred, cementing his and Castiel’s profound bond further.