Hey. I'm alive. My new job just doesn't let me write while working. Also, I'm woefully behind on this project, and I've only just finished January.
Originally posted to tumblr 2016-02-17.
/ Day 15 (2016.01.15)
/ verb (used with object)
/ 1. to convert into or regard as a concrete thing:
/ to reify a concept.
It's not that Dean doesn't understand the criminal life. As a bounty hunter, he's practically a criminal himself, and he's done his fair share of illegal things. It's just that he doesn't exactly have the imagination or the drive to start an undertaking, and he's never met a mob boss with enough charisma to snare him.
Not until Castiel Novak.
He should have known that this was the target that was going to change him. From the second the world's hottest DILF walked into the too-bright, too-clean laundromat Dean was soiling with his filthy clothes, he should have known.
The man was angel-gorgeous. Hair Dean was half-hard at the thought of putting his fingers in, eyes bluer than he could probably comprehend, a smile too kind and soft for a man with the kind of criminal activity in his resume. Dean almost laughed at the pressed, button-up buttoned tight around the man's wrists and at the throat, especially with that loose tie draped around his neck.
Dean spent weeks working his way into the organization, keeping one eye open all the while because it was unreasonable to think that they couldn't have found out who he was or why he was there if they wanted to. Not that they gave any indication that they did know. So he flirted and dirty deed-ed his way through the organization, eyeing the apparently vacant position of the boss' lover without out daring to hope to gain it.
Mob bosses always seemed to have gorgeous harems, or even just one single lover that they kept as their closest confidant and their most cared for possession. The ones with harems seemed to keep them through fear and money because they were fugly as hell. Cas though, Cas could have anyone, but for some reason, he didn't seem to want anyone. And if Cas hadn't found anyone he wanted yet, then Dean certainly wasn't going to do it for him.
Except apparently he was because he found himself offered the position of not just Cas' bed warmer, but his full-time lover.
It was there that he found out why Cas always wore his shirts so consistently… proper. It was there that he found out that Cas was tattooed fucking everywhere. Everywhere that his shirt and pants didn't cover anyway. From his wrists to his neck, down his torso, front and back, all the way down his legs to the tops of his feet. Cas was a goddamn mural of religious tattoos, and Dean found that he could be religious when it came to worshipping those tattoos with his tongue. In fact, he found that he could fall into Cas as easy as breathing.
Maybe it was the solid way the man did business, the way he was both kind and cruel in his fairness, the way he treated everyone he encountered with the same bizarre mix of respect and disdain. Like they were all below him, but he would award them the attention they asked for as long as he was respected in turn. Maybe it was the way that he seemed to be the only that the disdain in Cas' eyes and tone would fall away for.
Turns out, having Cas' undivided, affectionate attention on him was all it really took for Dean to get hard these days. Turns out that the firm grip of a calloused hand on the back of his neck was all it took for Dean to calm down these days. Turns out… all Dean needed to turn from his father and into a life of crime was Castiel Novak.
FINIS
2016 10M WotD Master Post (themadkatter13fanfiction tumblr, /10M-WotD-2016).
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