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In hindsight, Dean probably shouldn’t have been all that surprised when Castiel’s front door got kicked in by 6’4” of heavily armed, plaid-encrusted, floppy-haired alpha.
His phone had died like, two days earlier, and it’d been vibrating like crazy from where it was buried under Dean’s fed-wear in the corner of Castiel’s bedroom for the twelve hours prior to that.
So yeah, Dean should have put two and two together and figured out that his brother would assume he was chained up in some freak’s basement or bleeding out in some monster’s lair or something and track him. He’d been kinda distracted though. Turned out all those stories about mates imprinting on each other and the honeymoon scent-drunk fuck-a-thons weren’t as exaggerated as Dean had always assumed. Cause shit, three days after he’d found his soulmate and god knows how much sex later, he was still having trouble stringing coherent sentences or thoughts together.
So when Sammy burst in with a loaded .45 in one hand and a bowie knife in the other, his reaction was more along the lines of ‘oh! shoulda seen that coming’ as opposed to the more appropriate ‘oh shit my heavily armed brother thinks my mate is a serial killer/monster '.
Luckily for Cas, the fact that Dean currently had his dick knotted in his ass threw Sam off a little and he didn’t instantly empty his clip into the back of his head. Instead he had time to scramble around under Dean and growl. Unfortunately all that wiggling around on the end of his dick managed to milk another load of come from Dean and beyond “Sam!” all he got out by way of explanation as his IQ was drained via his cock was “Nngh...”
“Dean!” Sam yelled and sort of flailed around in confusion. “What the fuck!?”
He did not sound pleased. Dean tried, he really did, to rally his braincells and answer. “Sam!” he managed in a kinda groany-gasp, because fuck, mortifying as this was, Cas was still the best thing he’d ever stuck his dick into and it was really hard to concentrate with him tight and wriggling on his knot. With monumental effort he grabbed his mate’s hips and held him still long enough to manage: “This’s’cas... m’mate...”
Then to reward himself for his restraint, he grinded up into Cas’s ass, drawing little circles with his hips that put delicious pressure on his straining knot. Cas whimpered then cleared his throat and threw a glare over his shoulder. “Dean,” he hissed, clearly mortified.
Dean groaned and somehow managed to still himself. Cas was right of course. Knotting your mate was not a spectator sport. It wasn’t fair though - Cas, by virtue of not have another man’s ass clenched like a fucking steel band around his cock - was having a much easier time keeping his wits sharp than Dean.
“I’m Castiel,” he said, managing to sound fairly laidback considering the whole ‘dick up his ass/gun in his face’ situation. His voice was super hoarse though. Which made Dean feel all sorts of smug. Embarrassing as this was, he had to admit the stupid alpha part of his brain was kinda gleeful that it was getting to show off its pretty mate to Sam. Along with how fucked-out aforementioned pretty mate was. Unable to help himself, Dean groped Cas’s ass and twisted his hips, just a little, to draw another amazing little hitched moan out of him.
Cas tried to ignore him. “Dean’s mate,” he continued. Sam frowned at that, suspicious, but he lowered the .45 at least. “You must be Dean’s partner.”
Oh shit.
Dean was actually glad he couldn’t think straight. He’d managed to completely forget the whole Fed thing he’d fed Anna and consequently Cas. In fact, he glanced to his right, yep, Castiel had, during one of his more lucid moments of the last few days, in between collecting a bag of lube and awful adult novelty items left by Cas’s sister at the door, carefully placed Dean’s badge and holster on his nightstand.
Sam raised an eyebrow and shot a supremely unimpressed look at Dean. Since Cas couldn’t see what with his ass up in the air and all, Dean shrugged and gestured helplessly at his crotch.
His brother rolled his eyes and holstered his gun. “Okay, well obviously my partner-“ he glared at Dean. “--isn’t in any danger, so I’ll leave you to it,” he said. “I’ll be at the hotel,” he told Dean. “I’m working a new lead on the case so charge your phone.”
“Su- sure thing,” Dean replied.
Cas hummed. “I have a charger that will fit your model,” he informed Dean, somehow managing to sound only a little breathless.
Sam shot Dean a final ‘what the fuck man!?’ look of pure sibling horror and disgust, and then retreated from the bedroom. A minute later his voice echoed through the apartment - “The lock on the front door is broken by the way... Um. Sorry?” – and then there was some thudding as Sam presumably tried to get the door shut, before his footsteps faded down the hallway.
His scent though, the bitter tang of an aggressive alpha, lingered in the air after him and even though it was his brother’s scent and therefore something that usually bypassed Dean’s instinctual aggressive responses, he was freshly mated and it set his teeth on edge, smelling another alpha around his mate.
Dean wasn’t really conscious of what he was doing until he was pressed over Cas, flattening him to the mattress with his body stretched over his, a long glorious line of hot sweaty skin that smelled and tasted amazing. Cas groaned and bucked and reached back to pull at Dean’s hair, urging him closer. Dean mouthed at his shoulder, letting his teeth catch and scrape a little as his hips rolled and shifted until he was fucking Cas again, a tight grind using what little leverage he had when knotted to work incessantly at Cas’s prostate and make his mate clench and twitch around him in a way that felt like the best thing ever.
Cas shoved a hand underneath himself and fucked into it until he coaxed another orgasm from himself. The scent of it, heavy and thick with Cas made Dean groan and he lost it, adding another load to the slippery mess in Cas’s ass. Not for the first time since meeting his soulmate, Dean reflected on how awesome being able to share extended alpha orgasms with him was.
Satisfied for the moment, he slumped over Cas’s sweaty back and rested his forehead between his shoulder blades. For a minute they were both silent.
“That was perhaps the most awkward experience of my life,” Cas said.
Dean snorted. “Got that right,” Though in his case, he was mostly just glad Sam hadn’t arrived when Dean had been the one with a dick up his ass. Cause yeah, embarrassing as being caught fucking someone was, it was nothing to how being caught being fucked would be. And damn, how the hell was he gonna explain to his brother that his mate was an alpha?? Jesus. He’d never live it down.
Last round non-withstanding, the mood had been pretty much killed by Sam’s arrival, so Dean’s knot didn’t last as long as usual. It was only maybe fifteen minutes before he was gently withdrawing from his mate. Cas let out a moan that was part pain, part filthy pleasure as Dean pulled out, leaving his hole pink and gaping and a total fucking mess with Dean’s come. The sight was too much, played on some smug, purring, alpha instinct of Dean’s that was all ‘oh yeah, look how good I fucked my mate,’ and suddenly Dean was horny all over again and since his dick wasn’t hard enough to get back in there, he shoved two fingers inside instead.
Cas gasped and arched back, his ass clenching tight around Dean’s knuckles, and glared. “Dean,” he hissed, wriggling and shoving.
Dean just smirked back at him and flexed his fingers, testing the give of Cas’s fucked out hole. “Oh you love it,” he teased.
He mate practically snarled at him, but he didn’t go all elbow-fu again in an attempt to throw Dean off, so Dean tucked his head against the damp hair at the back of Cas’s neck and inhaled his scent as he kept up the slow massage, enjoying the slick feel of his come worked deep into his mate’s body. Strange as it seemed, laying with Cas in his arms as he slowly fingered his mate’s come filled ass, was actually... kinda.... romantic. Or like, sappy or something. Made him feel all warm and fuzzy.
Still, eventually Cas got annoyed and pulled away with a huff. “Stop that,” he muttered.
Dean just smirked and stretched out languidly, making sure to give Cas the best possible view as he did so. He also made a show of wiping off his wet fingers on his stomach, leaving a long glistening smear.
“You’re ridiculous,” Cas told him. He was blushing though, so Dean was pretty sure he’d actually enjoyed their decidedly dirty take on post-coital spooning. Dean watched with smug satisfaction as his mate stood and gingerly made his way to his en-suite to clean up. There were bruises and bites all over Cas’s delectable flesh and he was a total mess. If Dean didn’t know better he’d have thought he was an omega that had just been thoroughly fucked through a heat or something. The fact that Dean was the one that had him looking so debauched was immensely satisfying. He chose to ignore for the moment the fact that he looked pretty much the same after being fucked by Cas repeatedly.
The shower ran and he dozed a little.
Cas emerged smelling like shampoo and Dean manfully restrained the urge to get him all messed up and stinking of Dean again. It was hard though. Especially when Cas stretched like a cat and pulled on some worn jeans with far more wiggling that Dean felt was necessary.
He cleared his throat and willed his dick to behave itself. If he started something, Cas would undoubtedly decide it was his turn and bitch until Dean let him fuck him. And his tender ass had already been knotted once that morning and wasn’t too keen for a repeat performance.
“So, what do you do again Cas?” he asked, hoping to distract himself from how Cas’s hips jutted above those low ass-hugging jeans. And also, Sam’s surprise visit had reminded him that he and his mate really needed to talk. Sooner rather than later.
“I am a Forensic Accountant currently contracted to Sandover Inc. as a consultant,” Cas told him.
Dean recognized ‘Sandover’ from what Anna had been telling him, some big boring firm or something, but the rest of Cas’s explanation was lost on him. “Accountant hey?”
“Forensic Accountant.” Cas replied. “It is quite different to standard accounting. I investigate fraud.”
That sounded boring as hell, but still more interesting than straight out math or whatever. “That’s cool. So like, you find out if people are skimming off the top and stuff?” he asked.
“Something like that,” he said. “I gather from your partner’s reference to a hotel that you are not based in Columbus?”
Dean cleared his throat. “Ah – yeah. We travel a lot. Wherever there’s a case.”
Cas made a thoughtful humming noise and looked at him sort of hesitantly. “I suppose we should discuss our situation,” he said, not sounding too enthusiastic.
“Uh...” shit. Dean really should have thought this through before starting the conversation. He needed to decide how he wanted to play this.
Cas picked up his phone and started swiping through his messages. “At what point does a crime warrant federal investigation?” he asked. “My knowledge of the FBI is limited to a teenage fondness for the X-files,” he admitted.
Dean huffed in amusement. “The X-files huh?” he sat up and rubbed at his jaw. He needed to shave, it was starting to itch. “More accurate than you’d think,” Well, not really, he and Sammy had used to watch it with their dad sometimes and laugh at all the shit they got wrong, but what Mulder and Scully investigated was at least in the same ballpark.
Cas tilted his head. “Really?”
It was probably as good an opening as he was going to get – but Dean couldn’t quite bring himself to come clean. The last few days had been good – weird – but good, and he knew the chances of a smart, educated and from what Dean had seen of his apartment – wealthy – guy like Cas wanting anything to do with him. Basically zilch. Soulmate or not.
Castiel the Accountant wouldn’t want anything to do with Dean Winchester: wanted felon, but Special Agent Dean Bonham, well. That was a different story. They were basically equals.
“Where are you based?” Cas asked, looking up from his phone to meet Dean’s eyes curiously. “DC?”
“Yeah,” Dean found himself agreeing. “Spend most of our time in the field though.”
“You and your partner? Sam was it?”
“Yeah. Me n Sam.”
Cas glared down at his phone and huffed at whatever he was reading there. Dean sat up and shifted to the side of the bed he was standing by. “Everything alright?”
“My own co-workers do not seem to be as understanding as your own,” Cas muttered. “Although thankfully they aren’t armed. Anna informed my supervisor of my--” he glanced at Dean, eyes flicking over his bare chest in a way that made Dean flush a little, “—our, situation, but he is demanding I provide documentation of our mating upon my return to the office.”
Dean rose up on his knees, letting the sheets slide down over his hips. “I don’t mind providing some documentation,” he told Cas, making sure his voice came out as low and suggestive as possible.
Cas blinked owlishly. “Wha..?”
Leaning back Dean struck a pin-up pose and pouted dramatically. “I’m not shy, you can take a few pics to send him.”
“... You aren’t actually suggesting I send my boss naked pictures of you are you Dean?”
Dean shrugged. “A video might be better.” At Cas’s frown he continued. “You know, audio man. Oh Cas! Harder! Right there!”
Cas huffed and crossed his arms. “Fat lot of help you are,” he muttered, but Dean could see the smile he was fighting to hold back.
“Aw, Cas baby,” he whined in mock offense. “You don’t wanna star in some amateur porn with me? I’m hurt.”
Cas glanced at him out of the corner of his eyes and then abruptly lifted his phone and snapped a photo. Dean froze in horror. “Hey!”
His mate smirked. “Oh that’s perfect Dean,” he said, looking down at the screen. “The dried semen on your stomach and the hickeys really add something to the composition.”
Dean leaped forward, reaching for the phone. “Gimme that!”
Cas danced backwards, holding it out of the way while Dean battled with the sheets tangled around his legs. There was another click as he took another picture. “Stop it!” Dean yelled. “I was joking you dick! You weren’t meant to actually take a picture!”
Cas cackled and took another as Dean kicked away the sheets that were trying to trip him. For a moment they were both still, then Dean pounced and Cas bolted, laughing evilly. He knew his way around the apartment a lot better than Dean though, and he was maybe a bit faster, so they ended up doing laps through the kitchen, dining and living rooms, Cas periodically taking photos of the flailing alpha behind him and Dean threatening to disembowel him.
They were both so distracted by their impromptu game of porno-tag, that when they rounded the hallway and into the living room on maybe their tenth lap of the apartment, the presence of Anna and a short smirking guy took them both by surprise. Cas noticed them first and ground to a halt. Dean, who’d been paying a lot more attention to Cas’s highly distracting ass than their surroundings, did not and promptly tackled him.
They wrestled for a few moments, Cas trying in vain to get Dean’s attention and point out their visitors “Dean! Dean stop! Wait--” while Dean focused on trying to snatch away his phone whilst simultaneously groping him. It wasn’t until someone grabbed the phone from Cas’s out-stretched hand that Dean noticed that they had company.
Instantly he froze.
Anna was grinning at them in amusement and next to her – oh god – smirking dude was scrolling through Cas’s phone. “Wow, didn't realize you were such a keen photographer Cassie,” he said, leering down at the tangle of Dean-and-Cas at his feet. “And this mate of yours is quite the looker.” He blew an air kiss at Dean. “Buff beta underwear model. Where’d you find him? I want one.”
Cas made to get up but Dean latched onto him. The only thing preventing Anna and smirking guy getting a total full-frontal eyeful was the fact that he had an awkward lapful of Cas.
“Laurent,” Anna said. “That bar on 5th Balthazar is always going on about.”
Smirky-guy sneered. “That awful yuppie place? Really?”
Anna shrugged. “It’s near work, and the bartender makes a decent old fashioned.” As she spoke Anna leaned over the short guy and looked at Cas’s phone. Dean made a futile grabbing motion and sent Cas a ‘FIX IT’ look.
“Gabriel. Anna. Give me my phone,” Cas said, holding out his hand. They both ignored him. Instead Smirky tilted the screen so Anna had a better view. She whistled. “Wow. Gotta say Cas, I’m a bit upset you turned up and stole Agent Dean here from me.”
Smirky made a Mhmm noise of agreement. “Pretty boy here is packing some heat.”
Patience well and truly at an end, Dean pushed Cas aside and stood up - nudity and come stains be damned - and got all up in the little shit’s face. He loomed over him, channeling every bit of alpha aggression he had to make himself as threatening as possible. Dean’d faced down the undead and demonic and he knew he could be pretty damn scary when he wanted to be. “Give me the fucking phone,” he growled.
The guy – an omega – had surrendered the device before he even knew what was happening. Dean snatched it, snarled down at the guy just to make him flinch, (payback - the fucking dick deserved it), then turned and strode off towards Cas’s bedroom, and consequentially, pants.
Before he slammed the door he heard Anna’s scandalized voice. “But - But he’s an alpha Castiel!"
Dean took a few minutes to calm down. He washed off in Cas’s en-suite then addressed the nudity situation. His pants were rumpled but serviceable, even if he had to go commando, his shirt was a write-off though and he was pretty sure his jacket had been abandoned in an elevator or hallway or something. He used Cas’s phone to text Sam asking him to bring some clothes, forewarning him that he hadn’t had a chance to explain their 'work' to his new mate. He worded it carefully so that if (when) Cas read his messages he wouldn’t suspect anything weird.
Digging around in Cas’s closet he located a shirt that more or less fit, a soft faded thing that looked like it might have been a college keepsake. It was a little snug, but better than facing Anna and smirky – or Gabriel as Cas had called him – with his nipples and a sizeable collection of lovebites and scratches on display. Dean shoved his dead phone, badge, keys and wallet in his pockets and donned his holster. He’d had a knife strapped to his ankle – but he couldn’t for the life of him remember where the hell it had ended up.
Taking a deep breath, Dean made himself leave the bedroom to face the music as it were.
Cas was perched in an armchair, legs drawn up under him, while Anna and Gabriel were on the couch facing him. They all fell silent and stared as Dean entered the room. He cleared his throat. “Well... This is awkward.”
Gabriel snorted.
“Dean,” Cas said, all calm and polite like they were at a BBQ or something, “This is my sister Anna, who you’ve met, and my older brother Gabriel.” Dean offered an awkward wave. “Anna, Gabe, this is Dean Bonham. My mate.”
“Um. Hey,” Dean said, inwardly cringing at the fake name. Shit shit shit. He really needed to have a long conversation with Cas. But how the hell was he meant to come clean with everything?? They hardly knew each other. And there was no way, no way anything between them could work. Cas had a career and a family, Dean was drifter wanted for a string of stuff so creepy it made Charles Manson’s rap sheet seem tame. Oh, and he was legally dead. Twice.
“So. You’re an alpha,” Anna said. “I thought I’d scented wrong, that you were a beta...” She looked confused more than horrified at the news, which Dean figured was a good thing. It was bad enough that Dean was going to have to ditch his mate, make him go through the pain of an estranged mating without adding in family disapproval to the mix.
“Yeah,” he said, “I am.”
Gabriel waggled his eyebrows. “Kinky.” He leered at Cas. “Didn’t know you had it in you little bro.”
Cas crossed his arms and frowned.
Anna was looking from Cas to Dean and back again with a thoughtful expression on her face. “So who...?”
The room fell silent. Cas picked at a hole in his jeans with studied nonchalance, but his cheeks bloomed bright red in embarrassment. Judging from how hot his own face felt, Dean was pretty sure he looked just as mortified. He raised an eyebrow and gave Anna an unimpressed look. “Seriously?" he asked. "You wanna talk specifics?”
She winced. “You’re right. Ahh, sorry. That was very rude of me. Let’s just keep that a mystery.”
There was a muffled thud from the hallway. “Hello?”
Sam.
Dean slumped a little in relief. Getting faced down by Cas’s relatives all by himself wasn’t his idea of a good time. He needed to retreat, regroup and come up with some sort of strategy before he fucked up everything with Cas. “In here Sammy!” he called.
Sam poked his head around the corner.
Gabriel did a slow double take. “Well hello sailor.”
Sam frowned. “Um. Hi. I’m Sam. Dean’s partner.”
Cas stood and gestured towards an empty chair, playing the host remarkably well considering he was dressed only in a pair of skin tight jeans and hickeys. “Agent?” he fished.
“Page,” Sam supplied.
“Agent Page, this is my sister Anna and my brother Gabriel.”
Anna nodded and smiled, but Gabriel twisted around on the couch and fluttered his eyelashes. “Enchanté,” he purred. Cas glared at the back of his head.
“Um, hi?” Sam offered awkwardly, before handing a duffle to Dean.
“Thanks man,” Dean said.
Sam ignored him to sneer at his shirt like it was a blight upon mankind. “Ugh, Cal Bears?” he asked, like that was meant to mean something.
Dean glanced down at the shirt, unsure what some random college football team or whatever could have done to offend his brother.
“Why am I not surprised that you manage to find a mate from Berkeley of all places,” he said dryly.
Cas prickled. “Their mathematics faculty and business school offered the most balanced selection of electives,” he replied, voice low and threatening.
Sam snorted dismissively.
Cas narrowed his eyes.
Dean, kinda pissed off that Sam was arguing about College for godsakes, interrupted. “Fascinating as this is, I need to get a hold of Director Kaiser and play catch up.”
Cas turned, Sam instantly forgotten. “You are leaving?” he asked, the expression on his face guarded but somehow still sad enough to make Dean feel like he'd kicked a puppy.
And Dean felt like shit, but well -- “Yeah, just for a few hours. Need to sort stuff out you know?” He could feel everyone staring, but Cas was upset, Dean could tell, and he couldn’t resist the urge to offer comfort. Ignoring Sam and Cas’s siblings, he pulled Cas into a brief, manly hug. “I’ll call – but um, you’ll be home tonight right?”
Cad nodded, seeming relieved by Dean’s assurances. “Company policy is one week’s paid leave for a mating,” he said quietly.
“Ah, cool,” Dean shifted from one foot to another. He really wanted to kiss Cas, but that would probably be a terrible idea. He was just about to turn and head to the door when Cas grabbed him and took the decision out of his hands. The taste of Cas and mate exploded across his tastebuds with the first swipe of his tongue and all thoughts of their audience and embarrassment went out the window. Dean dropped the duffle and yanked his mate closer, one hand digging into his hip, the other twisting in his still-damp hair. Cas smelt of shampoo and bodywash from his shower, but underneath, mixed with that fucking amazing Cas smell, was him. Dean. Cas smelled like Dean-and-Cas together, like sex and mate and home and everything Dean could ever possibly want and why was he leaving again?
Someone cleared their throat.
Someone else, Gabriel, Dean was pretty sure, whistled.
Dean managed to drag himself out of the kiss. Cas was flushed and wide-eyed and looked like he was a few seconds from dragging Dean back into the bedroom and trying to eat him or something. He cleared his throat and ignored the way his dick was telling him that was a really good plan.
“So, um, I’ll see you later?”
Cas nodded and took a step back, hands clenched into fists. Dean could tell he was having just as much trouble as him restraining himself. “Yes Dean.”
Brief goodbyes were exchanged and then Dean was following Sam out of his mate’s apartment. It felt like he was battling against gravity – the further he got from Cas, the harder it was not to turn around and run back. Waiting for the lift was an exercise in torture. It seemed Cas was having similar issues since his door slammed open and just as the lift chimed and opened Dean found himself shoved into the wall and kissed again.
There wasn’t any restraint at all this time, Cas shoved a thigh up between Dean’s and more or less dry humped him as he made a valiant attempt at sucking his face off. Dean knew he was just putting off the inevitable, but Cas wasn't gonna want to kiss him like this once the truth came out, he'd call the cops, not chase Dean down rom-com style for a desperate makeout, so he let himself ignore reality for a minute and just enjoyed the feel of having a mate that wanted him.
Sam sighed and held the lift.