I love tentacle smut, so I've been meaning to try my hand at writing some for a while. Despite having a head full of ideas for PWP and octo-stripper and extremely dub-con non-conny things...somehow this is what I ended up starting. I don't want to drag this out as a WIP, so I'll be trying to get it done pretty quick, but so far this first chapter is all I have written. (I'll be continuing with the new words right after I hit post, though.

Relationship: Castiel/Dean Winchester

Characters: Dean Winchester; Ben Braeden; Castiel; Charlie Bradbury; Meg Masters; Gabriel (Supernatural); Samandriel (Supernatural); Garth Fitzgerald IV

Additional Tags: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting; Alternate Universe - Fantasy; Ben Braeden is Dean Winchester's Son; Past Lisa Braeden/Dean Winchester; Widower Dean; Creature Castiel; Octopus Castiel; Slow Burn; Mildly Dubious Consent; Bottom Dean; Top Castiel

None of the smut is tagged beyond top/bottom but assume there will be loads of tentacles involved so if that's not your jam you might not want to read this story.

Note the mildly dubious consent tag. I ONLY tagged dub con because, technically, for at least a chunk of the story, Dean is Castiel's legal owner, which means there is a slavery undertone to all of this. However, I am NOT playing up that angle AT ALL, I think when y'all read when I have in mind you won't be in much doubt that consent has been given, but I thought better to warn for the squick to that than to say nothing.

...this is going to be fluff and romance with a side of social commentary/drama which came out of nowhere when I was writing the first chapter.

Further, mild warning for underage. Castiel isn't human and his developmental cycle is not the same as a humans (it's all discussed in the first chapter). Thus, 18 is a rather meaningless milestone for him. He is not over 18 when the story begins, nor is he physically mature, but he is more mentally mature than a human of comparable age. However, regardless, Castiel will be over 18 AND physically mature before anything physical happens in this story. Hence the slow burn tag. :)

Lastly: *Jedi mind trick handwave* The biology in this story makes sense. You will buy in. You will not worry about it being nonsensical. You will enjoy the plotline and the smut and not linger on silly things like the need for underwater creatures to have gills.

:)

"Alright, Ben – which one do you want to talk to first?"

The pet store was packed even at 7 in the morning on Black Friday. Listening to the milling crowd, Dean could hear snippets of what the other shoppers were saying and he hoped that Ben wasn't paying close attention. The way they talked, their assumptions, made him cringe – starting with their expectation that they'd be able to take home their halfling that day. Dean and Ben had started the adoption process a month ago in anticipation of the holiday prices; if they hadn't, they'd be leaving that day empty handed. As it was, if they didn't find a pet they liked and got along with, they would still go home empty handed. Dean had spent the last week preparing his son for that possibility, making sure Ben understood that it wasn't unlikely and that it would be alright if that happened, that it wouldn't mean they wouldn't find the right halfling for them, that these things took time, that it was more important to find a halfling they loved than to pick one quickly.

"Oh, I know exactly what you'd use that one for," sniggered an older woman to her coifed friend. Dean repressed a growl. Assholes. Fortunately, Ben's attention was absorbed by the enormous tank filled with young half-octopi. The first week of this process had been devoted to learning about the types of halflings on the market. Initially, Ben had insisted that nothing would do but a centaur, but their house sat on less than a quarter acre, not nearly enough room for a full-grown horse, and as much as Dean would do anything for his son, he couldn't afford a move. It was hard enough to make ends meet with only his income to draw from. They'd researched nagas, merpeople, harpies, a dozen other choices, before they'd finally settled on half-octopus: halflings with the head, arms and torso of a human but the lower body of an octopus. They were clean, intelligent, could split their time between water and land, and – as Ben pointed out at every available opportunity – they looked so damn cool.

"That one!" Ben said, pointing into the over-crowded tank. The creatures within flitted about so quickly that Dean didn't catch which one Ben meant. There were several dozen in the tank at various states of maturity – anywhere from about the size of Dean's palm, which suggested they were seven or eight years old, up through about two feet long, suggesting they were around twenty. Adulthood for half-octopi was at 25 or 26, but most of their physical growth started in their teenage years; before that they developed mentally. A ten year old half-octopi had a mind the equivalent of a human adult though the size of a typical infant. Many people saw the small, clever creatures and wanted one only to grow disillusioned when they started to grow. The rules involved in the adoption of half-octopi took that into account when, after they first became available as pets, many were subsequently cruelly abandoned.

The second week of Dean and Ben's selection process had involved submitting paperwork demonstrating that they understood precisely the type of creature they were adopting and its living requirements. That done, they set about learning everything they would need to know be responsible owners, starting with drilling into the ten-year-old that adopting a half-human wasn't like adopting a dog. They were sentient, capable of human communication, and were given the opportunity to pick their humans just as their humans picked them. The many people around them at the store was an aggravating reminder of how many people still saw them only as animals, despite their humanoid torsos. It was bullshit; all halflings were as remarkable as humans in their development, and half-octopi were especially impressive as far as Dean was concerned. Even without teachers they were capable of speech by the time they were a year old and were capable of self-sufficiency at around two years old. With proper care, every half-octopi in the tank would outlive every single human in the room. Sometimes, Dean wondered how humans had ended up the dominant species against such competition.

"Dad, dad, did you see? I want that one!" Ben repeated insistently, weaving through the gawking shoppers to point at a different spot in the tank. Dean followed as best he could, apologizing to the people he bumped and jostled even though they ignored him, instead oohing and aahing as two of the half-octopi played a complex game involving playfully slapping each other's tentacles.

"Maybe I'll get two!" chirped one on-looker.

Ben was indicating at a juvenile, probably just into his teen years, Dean thought, about a foot long, most of that length in his long, shimmery tentacles. Getting a male was another thing they'd agreed on – Dean had gotten it through his son's head that this pet was a lifelong commitment, not someone they'd be adding to their lives temporarily. Whatever halfling they chose would be a part of their family in a literal sense, likely to help with housework and chores and errands assuming things went well. When Ben had come to understood the full scope of what this pet entailed, he'd declared they could only have a man, and though he didn't say so Dean knew his determinatin was predicated on not wanting a woman around who might ever seem like a replacement for Lisa. Dean's heart ached at the thought.

She'd have loved doing this. We always talked about getting a halfling when Ben was old enough to be responsible about it. Heck, I could never afford this if not for the money she set aside. I was ready to fight her tooth and nail to keep us from going home with a merman. God, I miss her.

"Alright, we can have a conversation with that one," Dean readily agreed, making a note of the half-octopi's blue eyes, dark hair, and mottled tentacles; the halfling's skin darkened to burgundy at his waist, transitioned to a purplish blue by the time he divided to eight limbs about where human hips would have been, and each tentacle tip darkened to a shimmery, strange black-not-black, the exact shade of which seemed to change each time the half-octopi bunched his tentacles then burst them back to propel himself around the tank. "Remember, though – it's just a conversation, like an interview. If we don't get along we'll talk to a different one."

"Yeah, yeah." Dean could hear Ben rolling his eyes. "I know, dad, and even if we all get along we still get a month at home to see if things actually work out. We've been over this, like, a million times."

"Well, now it's a million and one. Come on, let's find someone who works here to help us out."

It took a lot of searching to pick out the short young woman who supervised the tank. She had been cornered in another part of the store, surrounded by a group of eager shoppers begging to see this pet or that pet. By the time Dean and Ben won to the front of the crowd she looked so harried that Dean felt bad for her. Before he opened his mouth, she snapped, "No halfling interviews without preliminary adoption papers already approved."

"I've got 'um," Dean said triumphantly. She started and actually looked at him for the first time, bright red hair sweeping her shoulders as she pinned him with surprisingly bright green eyes. She must be part halfling, to have eyes that color...maybe a great-grandparent... Her name tag read "Charlie."

"Finally," she sighed. "Someone who knows what they're doing. I want to murder the person at corporate who thought running this promotion was a good idea. Lemme see 'um." Prepared, Dean reached into his pocket and pulled out the folded packet of papers indicating, among other things, that Dean had a stable income adequate to support a third member of his household, that their house had been inspected and deemed safe for a half-octopi, and that their interview with a member of the city adoption board indicated that they were well-informed about the obligations of the pet they intended to take home. As Charlie looked the page down, she nodded approvingly. "Everything looks in order..." She looked at the paper again. "...Dean. You're looking for a half-octopus?"

"Tell her, Ben."

"I want to talk to the pretty one with blue eyes!" Ben said excitedly, grabbing her hand and pulling her towards the tank. The crowd that had previously gotten in their way parted like the damn Red Sea, an audience watching eagerly to see what was about to happen.

"There are several like that," said Charlie with a kind smile. "Let's see – there's Naomi, Cain, Hannah, Castiel, Ben..."

"Oh no, I hope it wasn't Ben! That's my name!"

"It's the male with the burgundy-blue tentacles," Dean supplied.

"Castiel," Charlie said. Reaching beneath the tank, she pulled out a step ladder, unfolded it and set it beside the tank. Next, she pulled out a thick apron and a bright yellow rubber glove large enough to envelop her arm and cover her to the shoulder; she pulled both on as she ascended the ladder. "Okay, so...you're welcome to talk to him. I will be on call throughout the conversation to ensure that nothing inappropriate takes place. However, in this case I have an additional request – please, go easy on him. He's had a rough couple months. His brother was adopted in August and he was taken home not long after, but it didn't work out. They brought him back on the last day of his trial and by the time he returned nearly all his friends had been taken home – and not a single one of them has been returned. Please, keep all that in mind, and give him a chance, okay? He's great, but..."

"Give this many warnings before every pre-adoption interview?" said Dean with a laugh.

"No, only for the ones I really like," she replied steadily, giving Dean a sharp look that shut him up. Without another word, she started to mount the ladder. Looking to the tank, Dean saw that the half-octopi were mostly gathered by the glass, no longer swimming at random or playing, curiously watching Charlie's ascent. Many waved at Charlie and she smiled back. When she was high enough, she opened the top and a half-dozen of the halflings swam to the surface, sticking their heads out.

"Who do you need?"

"Give us some clams, Charlie, they're the best!"

"Is it me, is it me?"

"Who are we going to be talking to?"

"Not that ugly guy over there, I hope…"

"Guys," Charlie broke into the excited babble of competing voices. Despite their small bodies, their voices were mature. Further, though they were small they didn't look like babies or children: their human halves looked like miniature human teens or adults. The oldest resembled adults even though they were only a couple feet tall.

"Oh, mememememe!" A boyish, slim halfling, his tentacles bright red with white ringlets around each one, practically bounced out of the tank.

"Alfie, quit it!" snapped Charlie, but affection twinkled in her eyes. Dean and Ben had researched the best local pet stores, too, and this one had won out hands down as having a caring staff, good follow-up services, excellent support and top-rated affiliated veterinary services. "It's not you. Can one of you get Castiel for me?"

"Cassie? Really?" That came from a black-haired female with dark eyes, her wet hair limp and flat about her shoulders.

"Yes, really. Please, Margaret?" Charlie asked patiently. The half-octopus glared at her. The audience laughed appreciatively, and she turned that glare on them, silencing them despite her diminutive size. "Right, right, we're Meg this week, right?"

"Ask me nicely, Charlotte."

Charlie scowled. "Meg, would you please ask Castiel to come to the surface? These nice people would like to interview him."

"Hey, Clarence!" Meg called moments before diving into the depths. Her hair flared about her face beautifully, making delicate brown waves and ringlets that streamed about her face and shoulders as she swam to where Castiel lingered on the far side of the tank. His attitude managed to communicate nonchalance – Dean couldn't have explained how swimming could appear disinterested, but the vibe was unmistakable –and it was obvious he'd deliberately stayed as far away from the commotion as he could. Meg joined him, her mouth moving though the words couldn't be heard. Castiel shook his head once, twice, short dark hair eddying about his face as he did, and finally he heaved a disturbingly human-looking sigh and swam after her towards where the other adolescents were now making cheerful small talk with Charlie or with the crowd of shoppers.

"Definitely that one," whispered Ben. Dean glanced over to see his son staring raptly at Castiel as he approached, the shade of his tentacles growing darker with his distress. He repressed a sigh; trust Ben to want the half-octopi who hadn't the least interest in being adopted.

"Alright there, Cas?" asked Charlie as soon as the half-man broke water.

"Can we get this over with, Charlie?" Castiel said with utter disinterest. Dean was shocked by the low voice coming incongruously from the small body. She gave Cas a warm smile as if he'd greeted her with enthusiasm and reached towards him, waiting until he raised his arms for her to pick him up. "Who is it?"

"These two right here – Dean and Ben Winchester," Charlie explained. Lifting Castiel out of the tank, she cradled him in her gloved arm. His writhing, dripping tentacles curled around her forearm and he leaned against her upper arm, head resting at her shoulder. Despite his brusque attitude, Dean thought Cas happy for the human contact. "Say hi, guys."

"Hi guys!" Ben replied immediately. Dean couldn't help but smile. Ben was cracking jokes, he was grinning, his dark eyes sparkling. He looked so happy. Even yesterday he hadn't been nearly as down as he'd been the previous Thanksgiving. It was only their second since Lisa died.

"Hey, Castiel, I'm Dean," said Dean, holding out his hand to shake even though it looked enormous compared to Castiel, nearly the size of the halfling's entire upper body. Charlie grinned at him approvingly and Castiel reached out with one slim arm and tiny hand, took two of Dean's fingers and shook them solemnly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you," deadpanned the half-octopus without the least apparent pleasure.

"The interview rooms are this way," Charlie explained, leading the way through the over-enthusiastic crowd. Many were calling out questions, asking to see others in the tank, demanding their turn to interview Castiel, begging permission to touch the strange, rubbery looking skin of the halfling's body. "Quiet!" she snarled. "Garth!" Her call rose over the bustle and noise and a moment later a tall, lank man in a green employee shirt popped into view. "Keep these jerks away from the tank while I'm busy with this interview, will you?"

"Sure thing, boss," Garth gave her a broad, easy-natured smile. "Alright, now, folks, come on, stop that – please get off that ladder – no touching."

"Anyone who won't follow store policy will be escorted from the premises!" shouted Charlie loudly enough that her voice to echo through the entire store. Despite her words, several of the most persistent followed Dean, Ben and Charlie all the way to one of the private interview rooms. "Alright, Cas, you know the drill – you guys have as much time as you want to get to know each other; I'll be right outside the door the whole time and the top half will be open so that I can hear the conversation and keep an eye on things. Here's the buzzer if you need out." Though ostensibly she spoke to the halfling who surveyed everything around him with the same carefully neutral expression, it was obvious her words were also for Dean and Ben's benefit so they'd understand the safety procedures in place to ensure that no harm came to Castiel during the interview. As sickening as it was to consider, there were people who would abuse the vulnerable half-octopus even in such a public place. Some people – including, obviously, some of those there that day – were too obsessed for anyone's good.

The white-washed private interview room was equipped with a kiddie pool with maybe six inches of water in it, several chairs, a few toys, and an emergency call button. Charlie set Castiel in the kiddie pool – at his age, he could be out of water for up to a couple hours at a time but he'd be more comfortable with his tentacles immersed. The length of time would grow as he got older, topping out at about a dozen. Ben immediately knelt next to the pool, trembling with excitement and restraint as he resisted the urge to reach out and touch without permission. Dean eyed a chair and then opted instead to sit cross-legged on the floor by the edge of the pool so that he wouldn't be looming and so he could put a calming hand on his son's leg. Charlie gave them one last stern look before closing the bottom half of the door and turning to watch the rest of the store, angrily rebuking the other customers who tried to watch. Castiel stared at them both impassively, not moving.

"May I touch you? Or maybe do you want to play a game? Your arms are very handsome. Do you have one row of suction cups or two? How big will you be when you're mature? I have so many questions!"

Castiel's expression softened minutely, though Dean didn't think he'd have noticed if he hadn't been paying close attention. "I have two rows," Castiel replied, holding out one of his tentacles and turning it over so they could see. The double row of cups were tiny, and as they watched Castiel flexed and then dilated them, causing them to tighten to little nubs and then spread into nearly translucent discs. "I'm fourteen years old. I expect to reach maturity in five years, though of course it varies from individual to individual. My eldest brother's maturity was early, Michael was only sixteen, so it's possible mine will be as well. I'd prefer if we not touch yet," said Castiel sharply as Ben hesitantly reached out for him. Instantly, Ben withdrew his hand with an understanding nod. "Are you father and son?"

"Yeah, this is my dad, Dean! He's pretty great, he said we could adopt you."

"I said we could adopt a half-octopus with whom both of us proved compatible," amended Dean. Castiel's eyes turned to him, blue impossibly bright in the fluorescent lighting. "Ben, may I speak with Castiel? I know you have questions as well – we can both ask, alright?" Ben nodded and, to Dean's surprise, Castiel also nodded. "Is Castiel your preferred name? I heard Alfie call you Cassie, and Meg called you Clarence? And Charlie calls you Cas..."

"I don't care," said Castiel. "Whatever you are most comfortable with."

"No – it's your name, I'd like to call you whatever you're most comfortable with," Dean insisted. This interview was not off to a good start. Charlie's warning made a great deal of sense now; Castiel was sullen and resistant, clearly not interested in behaving in a pleasing matter just to have a home to go back to. On the one hand, that was pretty crappy – after all, everyone wanted a pet who was interested in obliging them. On the other hand, reflecting on it, Dean thought this might be better. It was like going on a first date – everyone tried to put on their best face, wear their best clothes, tell their funniest anecdotes, pretend that they like all the fanciest shit on the menu. It was impossible to find out what a potential significant other was really like until the first argument, the first emergency, the first morning waking up together.

"Castiel, please," said the halfling. His small head was quirked to one side as he watched Dean, his tentacles slowly rippling in the water of the pool.

With Lisa, all those "firsts" were perfect.

There were no illusions with Castiel. He cut out the bullshit by making no effort to please and Dean found himself oddly grateful for that. He wasn't lying to be pleasing, wasn't trying to convince Dean that they were a match made in heaven. Quite the contrary, Dean was pretty sure Castiel was going out of his way to be contrary because he didn't want to leave.

"What are you looking for in a household, Castiel?"

"What are you looking for in a...pet?" countered Castiel.

"We're not looking for a pet," Dean answered immediately. He'd been over all of this with the city interviewers, and while he knew his answer sounded rehearsed, they also reflected his genuine opinion. "We're looking for a new family member. We've always talked about adopting a half-person, but things didn't come together until this year when my business gained a new client and a long-term contract. I work restoring classic cars – but I've got everything set up to ensure I don't get oil or anti-freeze or brake fluid anywhere it's not supposed to be. The business isn't near the house anyway." Realizing he'd gone off on a tangent, Dean gave himself a shake. "Right – why do we want a half-person? Well, it's the two of us and Ben is alone a lot because I'm working. A third person in the house would be more company – both for him and for me. We're not looking for much: someone to join us for meals, to sit on the couch, that kind of thing."

"So you're looking for a babysitter?" Castiel's voice was even colder than it had been. If blue eyes could freeze, Dean would be a Winchester-sicle.

Oh, God, I've become such a fucking dad, that joke is pathetic.

"No."

"A boyfriend?"

"Absolutely not," said Dean firmly. "Not that I'm opposed to halflings dating humans, mind you. But I would never buy a companion of that nature."

"You'd rather buy friends?"

"Look," Dean huffed a breath, rattled though he knew he shouldn't be. The accusations did sting. "Halflings aren't humans, and humans aren't halflings. I didn't make this world like this, and honestly, I think the way things are is shit. I think that if a centaur wants to get a field of his own he should be able to, just like a human would, without having to go through metaphorical – heck, literal – hoops to do it. You're not wrong – we are looking for a friend, someone to hang out with, someone to help us keep house. And yes, we'd be purchasing you. Again, I can't help that, that's how the system works. But you won't be restricted to the house. I'll give you a key, if you do anything that I'd pay a human to do – such as clean, or pick Ben up from school – then I'll pay you for it, if you want, and you can use the money as you will. You'll be able to make plans without us, do shit...damn, I mean stuff...on your own if you want. I don't expect you to be at our beck and call. Think of it more like...being our roommate. Like, we've got a tank all set up, big enough for you to grow into for the next couple years, and I've set up an account to save for modifying the pool we've got out back. It'll be big enough to hold you – or someone else – full grown. Obviously, I'd like us all to get along and want to do things together, that's the whole point, but aside from that? Your time is yours as far as I'm concerned. Within the constraints of the law, of course. I can't change the restrictions you'd have to operate under."

It was more than Dean had meant to say, more than he'd said to the interviewers with whom he'd spoken. Many of those who did the interviews had a liberal view on halfling rights, but some were on the opposite end of the spectrum, were those who thought that halfling's already had too much freedom, that any halfling who wasn't chained in the basement of their owners home was a danger to society. Not knowing what he was dealing with, Dean had kept his liberal opinions to himself. Faced with Castiel's unwarranted assumptions, though, it all burst out.

There was a long pause. Ben beamed at him proudly, Castiel blinked in a way that made Dean feel strangely exposed, and Charlie had turned to stare at him wide eyed. It was a relief when Castiel's inhuman eyes slipped shut, even though it meant the moment stretched out even longer.

"Whaddaya think, dad?" whispered Ben as if there was anyway Castiel couldn't hear him.

The buzzer in Castiel's hand rang loudly. Dean started, Ben fell backwards from the pool, wide-eyed, and Charlie jerked the door open.

"You want out, Cas?" she asked.

"I want to go home with them," Castiel dead-panned.

"Yes!" Ben shouted triumphantly.

More to come...sometime...probably soon...?