And court him, Cas does. Over the next week, Dean finds himself falling even more for the handsome alpha and it's all because of the way Castiel has decided to treat him. There's still heat and passion, sure. But beneath that is an underlying romance, something warm and domestic, and every night as Dean falls asleep in his crappy motel room with his drunk father and annoying little brother he feels something he never has before: special. Unique. Wanted. Adored. And a little lost.

He wants to spend every night with Castiel. He wants to fall asleep in his arms and wake up to bright blue eyes and hands caressing his jaw, soft kisses and fingers trailing up his spine, to the smell of coffee and breakfast in bed amongst fluffy sheets and feather pillows. He wants more. He wants it all, and he doesn't want to wait. But Castiel is firm. He's been taking charge and using his alpha voice whenever Dean whines, and he has to admit that taking it slowly is actually making their flourishing relationship all the more exciting. Their passion hasn't burned out - not even close. They've had sex twelve times this week (not that Dean's counting, that would make him a total loser...) and every time it just gets hotter and steamier and more erotic. Dean's certain he's never has so many incredible orgasms in such a short amount of time before. Every time he thinks they've reached a peak, that the sex between them simply can't get any better, Castiel goes right ahead and proves him wrong. And he loves it every time.

He's showering now, warm and relaxed under the spray, and is testing his aching muscles slowly in order to work out which ones hurt the most and trying to match them to a particular movement or position. His thighs ache like crazy and he doesn't have to think too hard to work out why: he spent almost thirty minutes in Castiel's lap on the couch before they stumbled to the bedroom. He rode him harder and harder, rocking his hips and grinding down on his alpha's cock, drawing beautiful moans and sinful whines from Castiel's lips as deep, finger-shaped bruises began to form on his hips. He runs his fingers over those bruises now as he thinks back with a secret smile at the corner of his mouth. Knowing that Castiel's marks will be on his body, hidden beneath his clothes for him to peek at whenever he's feeling the loss of his alpha and wants to remind himself exactly who they are to each other leaves a delightful shiver of pleasure running down his spine.

The water runs in a stream down his spine as he ducks his head, rinsing the shampoo out of his hair, spitting out a mouthful of water, and inhaling the cinnamon-sweet scent of Castiel's body wash. It doesn't have a pheromone blocker in it, he notes with interest, so for the rest of the evening he can expect Castiel to steal glances and touches and to nuzzle his neck and breathe him in the way he always does when Dean's scent is unmasked. He's surprised the alpha hasn't joined him in the shower, but then again Castiel is downstairs making them some dinner, and his focus is probably all on his cooking since he's been so vigilant in taking care of Dean over the last few days and keeping his strength up after their marathons in the bedroom. Especially after this afternoon.

It happened. It finally happened. Castiel knotted him, and true to his word, could barely hold back from mating Dean. Just remembering it has Dean closing his eyes and bracing himself against the wall with one hand. He presses his fingers between his legs, feels the last remnants of Castiel's come drip down his thighs to be lost in the swirling water, and loses himself in the memory.

"My omega," Castiel pants, kissing the back of Dean's neck as he thrusts in and out of him. "My perfect omega."

"God, Cas. Right there, fuck, oh fuck…

Lying on his side, Dean has one hand fisted in the pillow beside his head and the other laced with Castiel's where it rests on his hip. They work together to pull him firmly back onto the alpha's cock with each thrust. They've been at it for what feels like hours; their skin is sticky with sweat, the sheets damp beneath them, and the mingled scent of Dean's slick and their precome is heady and rich, helping chase them both towards climax. Dean inclines his head to allow Castiel to steal a deep kiss, and he feels the alpha's knot start to swell. It tugs at his rim with each inward thrust and causes him to moan wantonly. It feels so good, stretching him in a new way he's never experienced, and he reaches back, clinging to Castiel and silently begging him not to stop.

"Dean, I promised you," Castiel grits out. "I said I would wait…"

"Fuck waiting, Cas. Knot me." He almost says more, but manages to bite himself off before he begs the alpha to mate him. He won't be that omega. Not yet. "I want it. I know you want it. Take me, alpha. Give me your knot, make me yours."

The growl pulled from Castiel's lips is utterly sinful and his fingers dig deep into the soft flesh at Dean's hips. His knot swells further, stretching him wider, and he whines, keening at the sensation. It stings, a burning type of pain - but the wet tip of Castiel's thick erection is brushing his prostate with every thrust and the pain is mingling with sparks of blinding pleasure, creating a heady mixture that Dean craves more of.

"Dean," Castiel presses deep, pushes his knot inside and holds Dean there, lips at his neck, panting harshly. "Promise me you want this. That you want me. I don't think I can… Dean, I want you so much, omega. I can't…"

"Fuck yeah." Dean pushes his hips back, groaning at how full he feels. "Fuckin' knot me, alpha. Take what's yours."

"So tight, my beautiful omega," Castiel groans. His thrusts are growing shallow now, grinding deeply as his knot swells too big to pull out and Dean cries out at the knowledge that they're tied now. Castiel is going to come inside him, fill him up, and claim him. They're so close to mating, if Castiel just lost a little more of his iron-clad self-control…

He shuts off the water, shakes the worst of the droplets from his hair, and towels off. He wipes the steam from the mirror to take a look at himself, and he feels a jolt of anxiety when he sees his reflection. Right there - right where a mating bite would go - is a deep hickey, flushed and dark, and it's as sure a sign as any that he's in a serious, intimate relationship with someone. He runs his fingertips over the skin, tracing it tenderly as he remembers Castiel doing it. They were tied together, lying on their sides with Dean's back to Cas' chest, sweat-drenched and sticky, and Castiel had just come inside Dean for a second time. He had moaned low in his throat when he felt the alpha's lips, felt his teeth, and arched into it as Cas left his mark. Now he wishes the skin had been broken - wishes he had a mating bite. He wants it so badly that it manifests in his chest as a dull ache, causes a lump to form in his throat, raises his heart rate, and makes his skin prickle.

"Dean?" Castiel's voice floats up from the kitchen and he feels a pang of need at the very sound. "I've made dinner, are you hungry?"

"Coming!" he calls back, giving the hickey one last stroke before wrapping the towel around his waist. Something smells incredible and his mouth waters as he inhales. Dinner smells good, sure. Something spicy and sweet. But it's their combined scent lingering in the bedroom that hits him harder, and he stands still for a moment to breathe it in deep. Honeyed whiskey tones mingle with spiced apple green tea. The scent of old books is refreshed by something clean and powerful. It's their scent bond, which is clearly intensifying now that they've been tied together for so long. He dresses slowly, not wanting to miss a single second of immersing himself in this beautiful scent, then makes his way downstairs to find his dinner, and his alpha.

"Hi, gorgeous." Castiel wraps him in his embrace, kissing him deeply and causing Dean to go weak at the knees under the affection. "I've missed you."

Dean scents him, pressing his nose into Castiel's skin. "Hey, yourself." God, he smells incredible.

"Are you alright?" Castiel takes him by the shoulders, holding him at arm's length and scrutinising him with his head tilted to one side and his blue eyes narrowed. "You're sure you're happy with what we did?" He presses a finger to the hickey on Dean's neck, rubbing it gently and sending a shiver down his spine.

"Hell yeah, Cas," Dean grins, baring his neck to the attention. "Can't wait to do it again."

"Good. Me neither."

A loud buzzing from somewhere in the kitchen distracts them, and Dean frowns at the interruption.

"You're in high demand," Castiel nuzzles at his neck, inhaling his scent deeply just as Dean knew he would. "Your cell has been going crazy for the last ten minutes."

"Really?" Panic lances through Dean and he disentangles himself from his alpha. "Is it my dad?"

He scoops up his cell and presses the button to light it up, seeing a list of text messages and missed calls - none of them from his father, thankfully - and he breathes a sigh of relief as he opens the first message.

Winchester! Stop ignoring me! Now!

He can't help but snicker as he scrolls back, finding six messages within ten minutes of each other, ranging from gentle prodding to outright demands that he answer his phone.

"Anyone important?" Castiel has come up behind him and is tracing a pattern onto the sensitive skin right over his hickey. Cas has an obsession with that part of Dean's body, and has no qualms about showing it.

"My friend Charlie, from school." He snaps his phone closed, tossing it away onto the table. "I'll call her later."

"You should call her now, Dean," Castiel says reprovingly. "It sounds important."

"It won't be. She'll only be calling to gossip." She's the only one who knows about us. "She's been on vacation and will want to know what homework she's missed. Little nerd."

"Still." Castiel kisses him, tilting his chin. "Don't neglect your friends. Call her."

"Fine, whatever. Don't burn dinner."
Castiel laughs, swatting him on the ass as he dances away out of reach, dialling. "Don't you worry about that."

The phone rings once, twice, then a slightly hysterical shriek comes out of nowhere and he winces, wondering if he's likely to go prematurely deaf from this friendship.

"Dean! What the hell? You've been MIA all week, I was starting to freak out!"

"Sorry, I…"

"I was even gonna call Sam! Like, where the hell have you been?"

"Charlie, I…"

"Don't do that again! You're my BFF, Dean, and I anything happened to you then I don't know what I would do!"

"Charlie!" he yells, cutting off her excitable rant effectively, and she squeaks in surprise at him down the line. "I'm not dead, I'm fine." He sneaks a glance over at where Castiel is pressing buttons on the coffee machine and pretending not to listen. "I've just been busy."

"So busy you couldn't even call me? That's not like you, Winchester! Busy doing what?" As silence stretches between them, he can practically hear her grinning. "Or should I say, doing who?"

"Whom," he corrects, automatically, and Charlie squeals with laughter.

"Oh you have been taking these extra tutorials seriously, haven't you! Tell me, has he had his wicked way with you yet?" Charlie smirks at herself. "Does he know you're into him? Have you talked about it?" Silence. "Dean?"

"Yeah, Charlie. He knows." Across the room, Castiel is smiling fondly at him and Dean's omega preens under the attention. "We, uh, yeah. He definitely knows."

"Really?!" Charlie's shriek is sure to be heard by Castiel and Dean cringes.

"Dean! Oh my god! What happened, tell me? Did you kiss?"

"Charlie, now isn't really-"

"Does he like you too? I mean, are you going to do something about it? God I can't believe this, I go off on some dumb field trip and you go and get yourself all loved up. So are you going to wait 'til graduation? Then is he going to whisk you away somewhere totally romantic?"

Shit. How the hell does he tell Charlie that not only does Castiel like him, not only have they kissed, but they've scent bonded and that he's been knotted by the alpha? How the fuck does he tell her he's totally head over heels for his teacher, and that his omega is overruling the part of his brain that tells him it's all kinds of inappropriate and wrong?

"Charlie. Look. How about I come over tomorrow or something? We should, uh, talk about it all."

"I don't know if I can wait that long, Dean. I want all the gory details! Wait." She pauses, realisation suddenly dawning. "Dean, have you slept with him?"

"Charlie, look..."

"Oh my god, you have! You totally have! I need details, Winchester! Right now!"

"I'll call you. Later, I promise." His cheeks are burning, Castiel is looking at him with a wicked grin on his face, and he feels like he might die of humiliation right here, right now. "I have to go."

"You're with him right now, aren't you? Dean, holy shit!"

"Bye, Charlie."

He hangs up, tosses his phone away, and buries his face in his hands just as Castiel wraps his arms around his waist.

"She's just excited for you, Dean. Concerned, maybe. But excited."

"Yeah, that's the part I'm worried about."

"Can she keep a secret?"

"Definitely. She's like the CIA. Hacking skills on point and everything."

"Then everything will be fine. Talk to her, set her mind at ease. But first come eat."

Dinner is simple but delicious, and Dean almost swoons when he tastes his first mouthful of baked chicken. The sound he makes must be something akin to orgasmic because Castiel's eyes flash red for a second and he puts his fork down, contemplating.

"Come away with me, Dean. This weekend. I know a hotel upstate, not too far, that I'd love to take you to. We can spend the whole weekend together, and I can take you out to dinner like you deserve and not have to worry about us being recognised." Castiel laces their hands together across the table. "I want to show you off."

"Really?" Dean blushes happily. "Sounds great, Cas. But my dad…"

Castiel cuts him off superbly by leaning across the table to capture his mouth, kissing him deep and hungry, leaving him breathless when he pulls away. Castiel smiles triumphantly and Dean knows when he's beaten.

"I'll sort it out. Yeah, Cas. We can go away. I can't wait."

•••

"Dad?"

Dean blinks owlishly, half-asleep in front of the TV. Sam is snoring softly, stretched out on his bed, and John Winchester has just stumbled in and is closing the door behind him, trying to be as quiet as he can. At the sound of Dean's voice he jumps violently, knocking into the table and overturning two empty beer bottles in the process. Sam grunts and turns over, long legs dangling off the end of the bed like a spider.

"Shit, Dean. Scared the life outta me, son. The hell are you doing still awake?"

"Uh, couldn't sleep. Where've you been?"

"Out," John grunts, and Dean catches a whiff of stale beer as his father wanders past him to the kitchen. "How was school?"

"Oh - school was fine." Dean tries resolutely not to think about what he did after school in the privacy of Castiel's house. "Um, Dad? Can I ask you something?"

"Suppose so," John's voice is muffled, his head in the refrigerator. There's a clink, and Dean knows his dad is getting another drink.

"Can I go away this weekend?"

He hates having to ask. But it isn't up to him, especially when there's an alpha involved. And if he went wandering off with Cas without telling anyone, John would know the second he got back and things could get… nasty. He silently curses the antiquated customs that keep omegas practically property of their families until they mate, but simultaneously is glad that his father doesn't enforce the rules that he so easily could. He's still allowed to go out alone, to spend time with his alpha boyfriend unsupervised, and John isn't forcing a meeting upon him. Not just yet, anyhow. He's managed to put it off so far.

"Where? Who with?"

"Upstate."

"With this alpha boy of yours?"

"Uh, yeah. Just for two nights. We wanted to spend some time together."

"Stayin' where? Don't expect me to cough up for a motel room for you and some kid I don't even know." John glowers. "Some alpha I don't even know."

"No, no, I don't. He can pay." Shit, not the right thing to say. John is frowning even deeper.

"He rich, this alpha?"

"His, uh, family is. Yeah. Really rich. It's not a problem." What is this garbage he's coming out with? John is sure to see straight through him, especially since he's now blushing like the teenage omega stereotype he's trying so hard to break.

"He's not trying to buy your affections, right?" John says, sharply. "I won't stand for anyone trying to take advantage of you, Dean. Maybe I should have a word with his parents before you go…"

"No! No. That not necessary." This conversation needs to be over, yesterday. He's digging himself in so deep he's going to be vacationing in Shanghai at this rate. "He's not like that. Really, Dad. He's great. You'll see, you'll meet him soon." He crosses his fingers behind his back. "Real soon."

"Fine. One condition." John strips off his overshirt and tosses it over the back of the couch, sinking down onto it with an exhausted grunt.

"Uh, yeah. Sure, anything." A knot has formed in the pit of his stomach; he's sure he knows where this is going.

"I meet this boy of yours afterward. When his parents drop you home on Sunday night. Got it?"

"Dad, I…"

"I said, got it?" John's tone leaves absolutely no room for argument and Dean's shoulders slump in defeat as he nods. His father watches him in the reflection of the now silent TV. "Good. Sunday night, Dean. We'll all have dinner together here. You, me, Sam, and… what's his name?"

"Ca… uh," Dean can't think quick enough. Can't come up with any male name at all, and John's eyes narrow as he stutters. "Cas. It's Cas."

"Cas. Right. Well, I look forward to meetin' this Cas. Now get some sleep. Want you up early tomorrow to help Sam with his homework and to run to the store for me. Least you can do before you vanish for three days."

Sunday. Three days away. A romantic weekend with Castiel, then the official 'meet the family'. Shit.

How the hell is he going to get out of this one?