Author: No Seriously Who?
Finalized Pairing: Dean/Castiel, Sam/Anna (it's complicated)
Secondary Pairings: Dean/Anna, Dean/Castiel/Sam, Dean/Anna/Castiel/Sam, mentions of Sam/Jess, Sam/Ruby
Rating: NC-17

Chapter Warnings: AU timeline, porn starts and ends this chapter, swearing

Summary: AU timeline; On their search for God, Castiel and Anna lead the charge while Dean and Sam "tag along", unwilling to leave Team Free Will in tatters and abandon those they consider family. With Bobby back in South Dakota, reporting in on the present danger of Lucifer, the two angels learn much more about humanity, themselves, and their human charges then they ever thought possible.

- Chapter One -

Dean was scowling. He does that a lot, but this time it is out of confusion and painful arousal. Painful arousal, confusion, and a forming sense of disgust that is now inching slowly into his mind. This was his dream, wasn't it? Of course he would imagine soft breasts and curves and subtle muscles from a badass lady-hunter. Dean was most definitely not impressed with himself. He was most assuredly soured out by almost every aspect of these turn of events.

"You can't look at me like this is my fault," Castiel said smoothly, voice gliding. Her-his-whatever! voice was just messing with him at this point, a soft teasing that should not have been there at all, considering this was in fact Castiel. But the women in Dean's life always had a wicked sense of duty and wit, so really, none of this sudden bite came as a surprise to the hunter. This was his dream after all. No doubt he was just mashing up Cas with Jo, or something like that. Which was just... weird. He and Jo had parted on such complicated, painful terms; Dean was honestly surprised that he would do this to himself.

But here Castiel was, nerd Angel of the Lord, looking just like Cas but most definitely female. Dean was going to hell, he was most definitely sure.

"You can't," Castiel spoke up again, that thin eyebrow raised, "if you blame me, then you would just be silly. Perhaps a tad sexist."

"How the hell do you get sexism out of this?" Dean grumbled. "I'll have you know that I am anything but sex-"

"But you are," Castiel cut in, hotly but pliant - calm but fierce. It was always such a Cas way to be. Dean really knew the angel too well at this point, no matter what body he-she-it was in. "But you are," Castiel continued, softer this time, "the women in your life need your protection, despite showing time and again that they are fully adept at handling themselves. I really do not understand why gender matters so much to you, Dean, because it shouldn't." Castiel was stepping closer, and Dean was painfully aware that there was a vagina between those legs. Virgin or not wasn't really running through his mind, but it had been a long, long time. Anyone would agree.

"That is also your problem, Dean Winchester," Castiel sighed, as if losing some infinite amount of patience. "This form means that I am to be treated differently to you. Glass first, sexual item second. Isn't that right?"

"No," Dean countered hotly. But he could not deny that his father raised him in such a way; he could not deny that nothing appealed to him more on a lady than a fierce, sexual drive that commanded something of independence, and a nice, curved ass. Dean shifted a little as Castiel pressed closer.

"This is your dream Dean, but I want to teach you something," Castiel said. There was nothing sensual in the way the angel held herself. This was not like Anna at all; this was something more fierce and determined and driven. This was by no means desperate, or an emotional outlet for a fallen angel seeking one last carnal attachment to the place she loved so dearly, before she knew she would have to return to the celestial plane, and be turned to stone.

Dean's heart truly ached for a moment, but he concealed it. He concealed it even though they were already in his head. He drove it down, down, down to where not even Cas could find it.

(But Cas will find it eventually. He always does, always will. He knows you too well. ... But he doesn't know you so well yet.)

"There is a grace and power in feminity, though in all truths Father views everyone the same," Castiel was saying, breaking Dean from his thoughts with a soft hand on his thigh. "Just as there is a grace and power in masculinity as well."

Dean was starting to feel uncomfortable. It was not the actions, but something deeper. It always happened this way, when Cas would show up and tell him something that was so beyond the human mind - the human standard - that Dean was just uncomfortable. Perhaps it was that he was faced with just a being. This being had no form, it was neither male nor female, it was light and energy and knowledge and safety. Safety, and pain.

Dean accepted the challenge. "You? Little nerd angel virgin?"

Castiel's eyes glittered. "To please you is all the same; to serve you, divine. I do so out of affection from Castiel."

"Point to this being? And gender is...?"

"Gender is inconsequential. I am me in any form."

It was the chance to be smitten and interwoven with grace and knowledge. Dean knew that Sammy would have a field day with it, allowing himself to become intertwined with this new Castiel not for the sake of the body, but for the power of history underneath. And nerd angel though his Castiel was, she was doing wicked things to his body already. Her sense of foreplay was rushed, but it was gentle; she was by no means a natural born but she was eager.

And fuck it if that wasn't just completely fucking hot. The commandment in her movements offered no other explanation.

Castiel's hands moved like water across his broader shoulders, dipping in to drop a kiss unto his lips. He met her; he had no choice, but had all the freedom in the world too. Chapped and licked, this Cas had the same lips as Dean's male Cas. Well, from what he had seen. But that tongue was seeking access, and Dean gave it to him.

It was strange to give up control like this. It was something the hunter had never quite done before with a woman. Women were special, and charming, and deserved to be worshipped in bed. He was a pleaser by nature, even in the most complicated of times. But Castiel would not allow him control. It was offered, oh this he knew - he could feel it in the gaps and lightness between and around their bodies, but Dean would not take it, not this time. It was one lesson that for once in his life, he wanted to learn. And thoroughly.

Castiel sat up, eyes hooded and pupils blown wide with desire. She lifted her hands and deftly unbuttoned her blouse, taking her dear sweet time. Castiel was watching him, observing him the way Dean was watching her. She shed the button-down, bra still clasped onto her (and for some reason Dean thought that was very human, a bra of all things that Cas would wear). The angel slid back down onto him, allowing their bodies to press flush.

Dean wound his arms around that slimmer waist, loving the feel of their skin together, loving the way Castiel was just Castiel (but honestly, this body was a plus). Dean nuzzled that soft black hair and inhaled, smelling earth and sky and something in-between that no human - male or female - could ever have. It was what made Castiel, Cas.

With deft fingers, Castiel reached to run her hands along Dean's chest, feeling and pinching and eventually leaning down to bite along tanned skin. Dean was briefly marveled that he was already panting, unused to receiving so much attention during sex. It felt nice, it felt deeper somehow. And then those hands were running along his sides and that mouth was kissing a path south, tongue lapping into his navel. Fingernails scraped gently and they were undoing Dean's belt and pants button and zipper, a little clumsy, but wanting and needing. Dean let it happen, lifting his hips and allowing Castiel to work his pants and boxers down, where his cock was half-hard and waiting.

Castiel tilted her head, and those blue eyes lit up. "Ah," she said. Her hands found the soft and pliant skin of his shaft, and Dean was boggled enough by her reactions enough to feel as if he were losing his erection. If only by a little at least.

"Ah?" He mimicked, a little frustrated with her.

Castiel looked up at him, and fuck it all, she was smirking. It was that same little tilt of the lips Cas only wore a few times when something was definitely going the angel's way. Something must have been done right, Dean figured, because Castiel's hands grew hot and heady, one palm moving to knead his thigh and caress his balls. The other - god, that fucking hand was killing him slowly - was moving along his dick, thumb coming to rest on the tip whenever it came back up. Castiel shifted herself, balancing on the balls of her feet as she unclipped her bra. Dean only briefly wondered what was going on before he stopped.

"C'mere," he said gently, soothing. It was like seeing her bared to him clicked something in his head, and his thoughts halted and instinct took over to be gentle, to treat her right.

Castiel shook her head. She massaged her breasts, fingers caressing those little buds hardened under her ministrations. "No, Dean," she breathed out. "No..." But she did lean forward and Dean was touching anyway. He cupped them, lifting his head to lick a path between the mounds of supple flesh. They were perfect, just his type. Of course they would be.

Castiel was moving again, dragging and sliding and rutting against him, practically dry humping him. Dean hissed at the feelings, and frowned, shaking hands moving to remove the rest of her clothing with her guidance. The hunter was almost a little embarrassed; his behavior was practically virginal.

Dean moved his hand at the first signs of that special patch of skin being revealed. It was smoothed, shaved, just as he preferred, and then his hand was there and feeling. Castiel arched into it, back curled and chest pressed forward enough that Dean was able to lift his head and nip at her breasts playfully. This felt right; it was his element. His fingers curled, and with a huff he dug gently for that little button.

Castiel breathed out heavier, brows drawn and blue eyes engulfed in ink. Dean murmured loving words to her before pressing two fingers into that wet tunnel, feeling around without vision. Cas was sliding along his body, panting and head ducking to hide her bitten lip. She closed and opened her eyes when Dean pressed further still, thumb caressing her clitoris like it were a precious pearl.

Castiel raised her head, and they gazed into each other's eyes for what felt like an eternity to Dean. Blue rimmed eyes fluttered again and she leaned to rest her forehead against his, searching him - feeling him beyond something physical. Dean withdrew his fingers and fumbled with the rest of his clothing, feeling himself hard and waiting. Castiel stopped him once his pants were completely removed from his person, dropped onto the floor, and with glittering eyes she slid down, taking his length into her mouth and sucking. God-fuck, that felt good.

Dean gripped her hair automatically, murmuring filth. He wasn't even thinking about it, but his litany of "Cas-fuck, Cas" was turning into "fuck, deeper, fucking-god damnit Cas, take it." And Castiel was moaning gently against the skin of his dick, getting those throat vibrations moving as she bobbed up and down, lips curling against his cock and smirking. She released him with a wet pop, grabbing his wrists and pinning them as she moved back up his body. Dean let it happen; he would be so pissed at himself if he didn't let it happen.

Castiel reached back and guided his erection to her entrance, slipping it in with ease from her wetness and the spit covering his penis. Dean shuddered out a deep growl, feeling possessive as that heat engulfed him, and he was swimming in it. "Fucking love this," he murmured against her skin. He longed to move his wrists, but she continued to pin him, using that angle to rock herself back and forth, up and down.

"Cas..." he breathed, never wanting this to end. Blue met green, and they swirled amongst the black.

And Dean woke up with morning wood, and not a clue of who he dreamt about.

"... Fuck."

Sam took another sip from his coffee, brow raised and looking for all the world like he was smug. "So," his brother started slowly. "This morning really hasn't been going well for you, huh?" There was a snicker in there, the twerp.

Dean scowled. "Stuff it Sammy. For your information I was having a fucking fantastic dream before... why the hell are you wondering about this anyway?" His tone was rimmed with a strong "the fuck?" tone.

Sammy only held up his hands in defense. "Relax," he said placating, but he was still laughing silently at his brother. Dean kicked him under the table, bemused. Sam dug into his pancakes again, and went into the hunt that they were working on, flipping through the newspaper with a purpose. He pointed to one of the articles. "White light, car alarms - sort of like a bomb went off that blew out all of the windows," he said. Sam waited for Dean to say something, but rolled his eyes and said, "sound familiar?"

Dean chewed obnoxiously on his bacon. "Not really, no," he deadpanned around his mouthful, washing it down with coffee. Sam was not impressed.

"There were black scorch marks on the ground surrounding the body," Sam went on.

Dean stopped chewing. "Angel."

"Yeah," Sam replied, closing the paper and sighing. "Someone is killing the angels. It's probably Lucifer, but..."

"Let's talk to Cas."

Dean paced the living room of Bobby's old house, frustrated and pent-up (sexually and otherwise), and feeling downright shitty. He sat down eventually, hands holding his head as he breathed out a sigh and snapped out his phone, texting: dear Cas, get over here. PS, you're an ass.

"Dean."

The hunter jumped, not really anticipating the quick response. He raised his head and saw Castiel standing across the room, blinking down at him in confusion. Dean scowled and stood, eyeing him critically. He hitched a sardonic laugh, and said briskly, "what? The hell took you so long?"

Castiel tilted his head, brows furrowing. "Your foul disposition is no reason to release your frustrations on me, Dean," he said, and then thought for a moment before continuing, "was there something that you needed, Dean?"

"Just..." Dean scowled and paced a little, feeling without knowing why a frustration that was beyond him. Perhaps it was a little more than frustration - perhaps something closer to angry concern - but he stuck to the emotions he knew best and moved on. He tried again, "just stop saying my name so much, for starters. And secondly, we got a problem; your angel pals are turning up dead."

Castiel appeared a mixture of troubled and confused. "Yes," he agreed slowly, "yes, I am well aware of what is happening to my brethren." He looked as if he wanted to sit down, consumed by the weight of a burden he wasn't sharing. Dean pitied him and offered his chair offhandedly. He was a little surprised when Cas actually accepted the offer.

"It's hunting me, Dean," Castiel concluded after a moment. If Cas were the fidgety type of person, Dean suspected he would be bouncing his leg in nervous anticipation.

But Dean wasn't focusing on that for long. His brows drew together and posture grew stiff. "What do you mean? How do you know?" Dean asked, serious. He would admit that it was concern now, because in the end Cas was his friend and his ally - Dean needed Cas through this whole thing. Without Cas, Dean was not afraid to admit that he and Sammy would be so screwed. But that was as far as he would admit. Instead he squashed the wave of over-bearing, not-quite-so-bro feelings of concern, and focused on the fact that Cas was in danger. They could not lose their best weapon.

Castiel, to his credit, looked wholly unruffled. But it was a testament to their time together that Dean could see what the angel was really feeling. It was a testament to how human his angel was becoming. Dean frowned at the notion that Cas was stuffing it all down - that concern and perhaps a shred of fear. But at the same time it was a can of worms that Dean didn't have the energy to open and deal with, so he let it slide. Dean frowned when Castiel continued with an answer to his demands, "Anna and I have been travelling together, and we noticed that our movements have been tracked for quite some time," Castiel said. "Whether it is by a brethren higher than I or not, I am uncertain. It could be a demon, of course. Or something else."

"Or Lucifer," Dean supplied unhelpfully, filling in the unspoken sentiments.

Castiel finally did shift a little uncomfortably. "Yes, or the Morning Star."

Dean frowned. "Then you're staying with us until this is all clear. Like hell you and Anna need to stick your necks out when Sammy and I need you here. We're humans, man, and that doesn't amount to much without a powerhouse backin' us up." It was meant to be a compliment, but Cas was looking increasingly unhappy.

"Yes, I agree," he said. Dean knew he did agree, but that wasn't all of it. The hunter was just too embarrassed to pursue it.

"See? So stay safe. Anna and you should stick with us," Dean added.

"No, Dean; Anna and I must continue to find God. He's our best shot," Castiel said. He was standing now, and Dean wanted to tell him to wait, and hold on, and together they would figure this out. Sure Dean wasn't much of a believer in the whole God mission, but he believed in Cas. It was strange to believe in someone other than himself and Sammy. Or maybe because of the shit storm with Sammy, he was trying to find someone else to believe in.

Dean stopped and clenched his fists. "Then we're coming with you."

Castiel actually let surprise flicker across his face, but it closed and was replaced by bewilderment. "That is extremely unwise, Dean," he said. His need to protect his human charge was flaring to the forefront, and Dean was almost certain that the angel would not budge on his decision to keep Dean safe.

Dean crossed his arms. "Then call Anna, and she'll decide."

Castiel seemed to become angrier at that. "Anna is-," he cut himself off, finding himself at war. Anna would no doubt believe that the Winchesters would be valuable assets in their mission. The angel looked more annoyed than anything at that thought, and breathed heavily out through his nose, turning his head away.

Dean shrugged, victory at hand. "What could it hurt, Cas? We'll fight evil shit on the way and look out for one another."

Castiel just looked more bothered. "Dean," was all he said. It was all he ever said when the angel - the being who lived for so long, who held so much knowledge - didn't know how to respond.

"Dean," came the answering echo, and both turned to find Anna looking at them, gaze flickering back between them. "Cas called." Dean was surprised at that, and felt himself become perked and snarky.

"So he admits I'm right," Dean said, chuckling.

"I admit to nothing," Castiel refutes. And Dean might even say that he looked as if his feathers had been ruffled, but that would be far too punny for Dean Winchester. "But I believe that since you and I are hunting down our Father together... you may have something to say on the matter."

Anna looked at Castiel fully, evaluating him and conversing silently - a conversation that Dean will probably never know the contents of. "Cas, it's your decision as well," she reprimanded, still on her mission to turn their nerd angel into a free thinking being. Dean was wholly on board with this plan, but not at the moment. He's picky like that, much more comfortable with picking and choosing when he wants Cas to think for himself. Honestly it's a character trait Dean has trouble accepting.

Castiel was looking distinctly uncomfortable, but said, "I feel that Anna wishes for you and your brother to come along," he stopped and sighed. "I am inclined to agree with her." Because that is what she wishes went unsaid between all three of them, and Castiel looked away, growing uncomfortable.

Anna did not look happy, but accepted it. "Then let's talk to Sam." She was looking at Dean and wondering how this decision - this strange talk of "sticking together" and "let's hunt daddy together" - came about. Dean and Castiel only nodded at her.

It was set in motion.

"Dean-I..." Cas huffed against Dean's neck, licking and biting as she bounced on his dick, Dean doing nothing more than grunting and muttering obscenities into her collar bone, dragging rough hands across her tits and squeezing them. The pace was slowed, the breathing quickened, and Cas lavished Dean with all sorts of attention, refusing to take any sort of passive role.

Dean fucking loved it. Her demanding nature was unchanged from the Cas outside of his dreams, and even as he came inside of her, cursing into her skin about releasing too soon, Cas bit down on his neck to shut him up with a growl. She raised her eyes and said, "finish me off, please." But it wasn't a please at all, Dean chuckled to himself, flipping them over and pinning her, it was more of a now, or you'll regret it.

"Makes me wanna fuck you every night, baby," he murmured, fingers slipping in past her moisture and his release, thrusting his fingers in and out of her as he massaged every other part of her he could touch.

"But this... fuck, Cas, 'cause it's you? This is so fucked up," he bit out, still panting and tired and-fuck, he hadn't even done anything and this was the affect. Goddamn it was a fucking good lay. Although in Dean's defense, it had been an extremely long time, and he figured that was why he was fucking Cas now. Combine the two good things in his life, yeah? Cas and women. Cas and Anna's body.

Anna's body... but Cas.

Dean kissed Castiel deeply, ravishing her mouth and finishing her off, swallowing her ragged moan of pleasure. Her orgasm was short, but he could feel how she tensed so deliciously against him.

They rested against each other for a moment, and Cas wrapped her arms around Dean, burying into him. After a moment, she said, "lesson learned?"

"Yeah," Dean breathed, sated. "Brilliant."

Dean woke up with his boxers a complete mess. He just wished he could fucking remember who the lucky person in his dreams were.

Chapter End

Ending Author's Notes: Porn every chapter. I am so not kidding, and the porn actually varies a lot on person to person, gender to gender. But it does have a point. This is sort of a PWP, but it has more plot than that, so... heh.