I am so SO sorry this took so long.

Their routine followed as such after that first day. Dean woke up, ate breakfast or lunch, depending on when he woke up, went on a run before self defense and general training, then ate dinner and spent some time with Castiel before going back to their rooms, having sex and cuddling before going to bed. It was a routine he didn't intend to break, perfectly content with it all.

He hadn't heard from his family, but he really didn't think he would. He left a few messages, and tried to call when Sam would pick up, but it never worked out. School was around the starting point, however, and he'd gotten word from one of his ex coworkers when he called in to let them know he wouldn't be returning that Sam was just fine, though missed his big brother more than anything.

Everything was perfectly fine until Dean remembered that Viktor actually had to do something to earn the money that he did, and warrant bodyguards for him and his family.

"You can't wear that to a club," Castiel said, eyeing Dean's outfit disapprovingly. It was evening, Dean called down from his room nearly an hour after dinner.

"You said to blend in!"

"Do you even know what kind of club this is?"

"… There are different types?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, and Viktor shook his head, shooing them out of his office, gesturing for them to get Dean in to something else. Castiel grabbed the cuff of the shirt he had on, dragging him off to his room. He shoved Dean in to his bathroom when he got there, leaving to hunt through his closet before coming back out with something more appropriate.

When he came back in to the bathroom, Dean was in the process of unbuttoning his shirt. Castiel smirked, leaning against the door frame after setting the new clothes on the counter.

Dean looked up about halfway down his shirt. "What are you smirking about?"

"Just watching you strip. It more interesting two nights ago."

Dean locked his eyes on Castiel's, walking toward him, unbuttoning his shirt the rest of the way. He stopped in front of Castiel, reaching out to rest his hands on his hips. "Care to do me the honor?" he asked, tearing his eyes away to look down at his unbuttoned shirt briefly, then back up.

"My pleasure." Castiel grinned, putting his hands on Dean's shoulders, worming his shirt down as he leaned in, attaching his lips to Dean's neck, sucking and kissing, but not hard enough to leave a mark.

He pulled away when Dean's shirt was piled around his wrists, licking his lips. Dean licked his lips as well, waiting a beat before raising one of his hands, cupping Castiel's cheek. He leaned in, about to kiss Castiel before the other turned his head, leaving Dean's lips on his cheek. He didn't give up, however, peppering kisses across his cheeks to the corner of his lips, gently trying to guide Castiel to turn his face back to him, but he wouldn't.

Dean sighed. "We've been fucking for like, a month, and you still won't let me kiss your lips."

"Something wrong with that?"

"Yeah. No…" Dean shook his head, squeezing his eyes shut. "I mean, I really want to kiss you, and for some reason, you won't let me."

"It not that great." He looked over to the counter, reaching out to grab Dean's new shirt. He pushed it against his abdomen with more force than was necessary, knocking Dean away from him. "Get dressed."

"Why are you so cold about this?"

Castiel rolled his eyes. "Because I don't want to kiss you. I wanted sex, and that what I'm getting. The rest of it fun, sure, but I don't even need that. Don't push me."

Dean shook his head, in dismay over how fast the mood in the room had changed, the sexual charge no longer there. "Whatever. Can you leave?"

"No."

His eyes narrowed. "Get out."

Castiel took an extra moment to rake his eyes over Dean's half-naked body, turning away with a shrug. "You lucky you hot."

Dean made to argue back, half of a word slipping passed his lips, but Castiel whirled around at the sound, his eyebrows arched high in a taunt, daring -just daring Dean to continue. His words fell flat the moment he received the look, and Castiel left with a satisfied smirk.

He was grumbling as he slipped on the new shirt, buttoning up the top few buttons of it before switching in to his pants, trading his nicer suit pants for khakis. He glared down at the article of clothing, upset at how awful they looked on him with his holsters hooked on underneath. They made his thighs look unevenly proportioned to the rest of his body.

There was nothing he could do about it, however, so he made his way down to the main foyer and back up to Viktor's office, receiving a nod of approval from both Castiel and his father, who was one the phone.

"I going in soon," he said as Dean took a seat beside Castiel on one of the chairs along the side of the room. It was the same one he'd been seated in when he was first brought in to this home. Viktor continued to talk as Castiel turned to Dean, leaning forward to get a good look at his face. He reached over, running his fingers through the front of his hair, spiking his bangs up. Dean shook his head, removing Castiel's hand, though the other just dropped his hands to unbutton the top two buttons on Dean's shirt.

He growled. "What are you doing? Are you trying to make me look like a gay guy?" he muttered under his breath

"Well we going to gay club," was whispered back.

"What?"

Castiel blinked a few times. "I not sure how to explain more."

"Why are we going to a gay club?"

"Father need to talk to owner."

"Can't he just call him?"

"It not work like that," Viktor explain, butting in to their conversation. He looked at the both of them as they sat up straighter, turning their attention to him. He handed Dean a fake ID, Castiel already had one. "You both have guns?" They nodded. "Good. Let's go."

Viktor strode from the room with Dean and Castiel in tow, not bothering to check that they were following.

"So how is this different than a business meeting… of sorts…"

He received no response.

Castiel's posture was more rigid than Dean was used to, and he recognized that stance. He was standing tall, head held high as he followed his father out in to what was essentially the front lines.

He was soldier. "Dude, will you answer me?" Whenever Dean thought he was actually close to him, he pulled something like this, refusing to answer Dean, following his father without question. "Dude?"

Still nothing.

When they arrived at the blacked-out SUV, Mychalla was in the front, ready to drive. Viktor stepped in, followed by Castiel in the back, then Dean, who grabbed Castiel's hand, insisting on an answer. "What are we doing?"

Castiel rolled his eyes, back stiff though he finally looked at Dean. "We going to club."

"What are we doing at the club?"

"We bait."

"What?"

He received another eye-roll, but Castiel still hadn't taken his hand away, which he considered an improvement. In which way, he wasn't sure, but an improvement nonetheless.

"Not hard to understand," Castiel started. "We bait. He call us in to room, Father breaks in, it all go down, then go home."

Dean was staring with a blank expression, not gathering any of the information -or lack-thereof- that Castiel had attempted to provide. Viktor decided it was his turn to butt in. "All you do, Winchester, is… make out… with my son, wait until one of his men come and get you, then follow them in to back room… Just… follow my boy. When Castiel… grinds you, you grind back." Viktor shook his head, not agreeing with the words slipping out of his mouth. "When Castiel take out gun, you take out gun. When Castiel shoot, you shoot. That all you need to know."

Dean shook his head. "I still don't understand. Why can't you just walk in there?"

"We not exactly… friends," Viktor explained. "More like ex-acquaintances. He cheat me out of money. I going to get it back."

"So I'm helping you rob someone?"

"Essentially."

"Great."

Castiel laughed quietly. "Don't worry. It be fun."

"Oh totally."

"You be fine. I done this… like four times."

"Won't they recognize you?"

"Maybe."

"That's comforting."

Castiel and his father laughed. "You be fine," they both said, their voices melding in to a deep harmony.

Dean gulped. "If you say so."

They pulled up around the side of the club. Dean could see the line as they passed, disappearing as they turned around a corner. He shook his head. "How're we gonna get in?"

"Wait," Mychalla supplied, parking the car along the back. He left it to idle as Viktor slid out of the car, Castiel followed by Dean in doing the same.

"You boys know what to do?" Castiel nodded, posture straight and stiff. Dean was less sure, but nodded just the same. "Good. Castiel, don't shoot to early. Dean… Don't shoot unless Castiel does."

Dean nodded. "But what if it's to protect Castiel?"

"You not need to protect him if all goes as planned. Don't give away what you're doing there, and don't break character."

"Character?"

"I show you later," Castiel said.

His father stepped to him, pulling him in to a hug. "Be safe."

"I will."

"Good boy." He broke the hug, kissing Castiel's temple before letting him turn to leave.

Dean made to follow after him, but Viktor clapped a hand on his shoulder, stopping him. He looked over his shoulder at the man, waiting for an explanation.

"Wait." Dean did, not moving a muscle under Viktor's strong and heavy hand. The elder finally spoke after a few minutes. "You make sure my son stay safe." Dean nodded once. "He my blood. I can't lose him. Make sure he safe."

"I won't let him get hurt. I swear it."

Viktor clapped Dean's shoulder. "Good. Now go."

Dean turned and began to walk away, receiving a clap on his shoulder one last time as he moved just outside of Viktor's reach. The older man slid back in to the car, and the last time Dean looked back, he saw the SUV pulling away, turning around the far corner away from him.

This was it. This was when he had to go.

He took an extra moment to breathe and steady himself before rounding the corner, the knot in his stomach growing tighter and bigger the closer he got to the line. Castiel was a few spots ahead of him, and he looked back, winking before turning his attention back to the front.

Every three steps brought Dean one spot closer to the entrance of the club, and the music was growing progressively louder, the bass shaking through his body. He willed it to stop, for his body to calm down, but it did no such thing. It was a miracle he was able to give his ID to the man, who asked his name and birthdate with a questionable look.

"Steven Richardson. September seventh, nineteen-ninety two. Happy birthday to me."

The man looked down at the card before sending Dean a hard glare, but passed back the card, stepping aside to let him in. "Enjoy your… birthday, Steven."

"I'm sure I will."

It was dark in the club, lights in the center lighting up the room in stripes of pinks, greens, reds, and yellows, a deep-blue tint in the background faintly illuminating everyone. It wasn't hard to find Castiel, who was grinding his dick up against a smaller man's ass.

"That was fast," Dean muttered to himself, worming his way through the crowd of dancing people. Viktor's words of staying in character rang through Dean's ears, and he realized he wasn't actually supposed to know Castiel. He shrugged, still working his way to the other man.

When he reached him, he didn't stop, he just continued to walk, brushing his fingers low across Castiel's back, winking at him over his shoulder as Castiel turned his head to look at him.

Dean continued to walk, turning his attention away from Castiel, resulting in a shock as the other man came up behind him without warning, hands sliding low around his hips, pressing them back as he moved his own forward. Dean gasped as Castiel began to rock their hips to the beat, dropping his head down to nudge his nose against Dean's neck.

Dean covered Castiel's hands on his hips with his own. "You dove in to this pretty fast."

"The goal is to be really hot."

"I have a better idea than this."

"What's that?" he asked, kissing Dean's neck.

Dean turned around in Castiel's arms, draping his own around Castiel's neck as Castiel's hands tightened on his hips. They kept up with the beat of the song, Castiel grinding his hips forward in a roll, rolling them slightly back as Dean rolled his up. They followed that rhythm, periodically rolling their eyes around to see who was watching them.

"I feel a little uncomfortable doing this," Dean admitted after a few minutes.

"Why? Nothing worse than we do at home."

"Well, your dad's watching now."

"He came in?"

Dean gestured with a slight cock of his head toward the direction Castiel's father and Mychalla were standing. Castiel peered over at them, then smirked, turning his eyes back to Dean. "Want to make him really uncomfortable?"

"No."

"We going to."

Dean made to retort, but Castiel's fingers were impossibly tight around his hips, and he was grinding hard in to him, slowly leaning Dean's body back, taking complete control over the situation. The only thing Dean could do was wrap his arms tighter around Castiel's neck and moan as the other ground his hips in to his own without relent.

"Keep moaning like that," Castiel muttered, licking up Dean's neck, earning another moan that doubled in intensity as their hips ground together again. "It so sexy."

"You're so sexy."

"Good response."

Dean rolled his eyes over to look at Viktor, who was pointedly refusing to look over at the two of them. "Your dad's really protective over you, isn't he?" he asked as Castiel straightened their bodies back out, kissing Dean's jaw.

"That not sexy."

Dean dropped it, knowing better than to argue with the man who was currently sucking bruises in to his jawline. He moaned once and rolled his eyes over to Viktor, who was periodically checking up on them. "Your dad's watching again."

"So is someone else," Castiel responded, looking over in a direction behind Dean. "Let's take break."

Dean didn't have a chance to respond as Castiel was pulling away from him, grabbing his hand and dragging him over to one of the side areas up a few steps with large leather benches lining the walls and tables for drinks and other things. Castiel pushed Dean down on to one of the benches, and straddled his lap, wrapping his arms around his neck.

Both of their breathing was hard, which was something Dean picked up on now that they were sitting, along with how turned on he was and how hard their heartbeats were. He could feel his own pumping in his ears and Castiel's doing just the same under his fingers from the hand he moved up to rest on his neck.

Castiel had a remarkably fast recovery time, Dean remembered once again, as Castiel began gently rolling his hips the moment Dean put his free hand down on his hip, the other hand still solidly on his neck.

"You know," Castiel said, voice breathy. "it pretty intimate with your hand on my neck."

"So?"

"Maybe take it off?"

"No."

"Dean."

"Only if you kiss me."

Castiel rolled his eyes and leaned in, kissing Dean's nose. "There."

"A little lower." Another eye-roll was delivered along with a kiss to his cheek. "Little over."

"You kidding me?" Dean didn't waver from where he was, his thumb rubbing lightly on Castiel's neck. Castiel clenched his jaw, taking a hand from behind Dean's neck, trying to pull his hand down, but Dean was strong, and Castiel couldn't do much more without breaking the rhythm of their hips. He sighed and wrapped his arm back around his neck, leaning in to kiss the corner of Dean's lips, moaning as he pulled away.

Dean bit his lip, though still didn't pull his hand away from his neck. "What was that about?"

"I like moaning."

"Clearly."

"Moan when I kiss your neck."

"Wh- Oh!" Castiel dropped his head, kissing Dean's neck, grinding his hips down harder than before, earning a small moan from himself as well.

Dean tilted his head up to kiss Castiel's jaw when the other pulled away from his neck, but it didn't last long as someone was tapping on Castiel's shoulder and Dean's hand moments later.

Castiel backed his face away from Dean's, putting some space between the two of them as he looked over his shoulder, never stopping the rhythm of their hips. "Yes?"

"The owner of the club would like to see you two personally."

"What for?" Castiel knew what he was doing, but Dean had no clue. He leaned forward to kiss at the back corner of Castiel's jaw, hoping to prevent himself from saying something wrong.

"Private… show," the man explained.

"What we have to do?" Castiel asked, gasping quietly at Dean's kisses.

"What you're already doing."

Castiel turned his attention to Dean, looking back at him, their lips now a fraction of an inch apart. He quirked an eyebrow in question, and Dean smirked back. "I'm in."

Castiel turned to look over his shoulder at the man again. "Okay." He looked back to Dean one more time, brushing their lips together. It was barely a hair-width of a press, but it still had Dean freezing, shivering as he tightened his hand on Castiel's neck, only for it to be dropped down as the other slid off his hips, grabbing his hand.

Dean stood on his feet, walking close to Castiel as they followed the man through the club toward the back, stopping outside a large door. The man rapped on the door, and Dean stepped even closer to Castiel, bringing his free hand up to run the back of his fingers down his neck.

"What are you doing," Castiel whispered back at him as he swirled his index finger around the small curl of hair behind his neck, watching the dark lock twist around his finger.

Dean didn't respond, just shuffling closer to kiss on the shell of his ear, attempting to ignore the uneasy sensation pooling in his stomach. Castiel made to retort back in whatever way he could, but the door in front of them opened and the man led them in.

Sitting in front of them, in the dead center of the back of the room, was a fairly thin, dark-skinned man, similar in height to Viktor, though Dean thought him to be a bit shorter. He had glasses perched on his nose, and a track suit on his body. He looked like a body-building nerd.

Beside the man were two chairs, one recently empty as the man sitting in it had gotten up, moving behind Dean as the man who led them in stepped behind Castiel. They stepped back, pressing themselves practically in to the wall, and Dean realized they weren't there to intrude, but to guard the man watching the two of them.

"You're very cute," the man said, raking his dark eyes over the pair of them. It made Dean uncomfortable, and he hoped it made Castiel feel just the same. He wasn't showing it, however, so Dean pulled up a stoic face as Castiel let himself relax in to a submissive one.

"You think I'm cute?" Castiel asked. Dean stepped up behind him, snaking his arms low around his hips, fingers slipping in to the front of his pants, nuzzling his nose in to his hair, inhaling deeply. Castiel shivered, and Dean pressed closer.

"Yeah. So does someone else."

Castiel smirked, rolling his eyes over to peer at Dean, though he saw nothing. "He's possessive," he added as Dean rolled his hips forward, pulling Castiel's back, grinding against his ass. Castiel gasped.

"That's hot."

Dean began to roll his hips forward at a slow pace, the fingers in Castiel's pants curling up slightly, brushing against a few hairs, causing Castiel to lull his head back completely, freeing his neck for Dean to work his lips over and hold on to with his free hand, the other still half in his pants.

"You're so sexy," Dean muttered against Castiel's neck, part in character, part lost in the other, enjoying the opportunity to take whatever control he could over the other man.

"Yes, you are," the man in the chair said, pushing his glasses up his nose.

Dean pulled Castiel closer, grinding harder in to him, losing his character to his own inhibitions, wanting Castiel more and more with every kiss he pressed to his neck and every moan or whimper he received in return.

"What do you want us to do?" Castiel asked, finally able to calm himself enough to do so.

"Face each other."

It took a bit of persuasion on Castiel's part to get Dean to loosen his hold on him without breaking his submissive role, but he finally let go enough to turn their bodies to face each other. He immediately slid his hand back in to Castiel's pants, fingers resting over his ass. Castiel slid his own hand in to Dean's pants, doing the same to his ass. "Calm yourself," he whispered, tugging Dean close, pulling his earlobe between his teeth.

"It's hard. You really are sexy."

"I know," Castiel smirked, kissing Dean's jaw.

"Kiss each other," the man said, interrupting their nearly-silent conversation.

"Follow my moves," Castiel whispered quickly before pulling away from Dean's ear, the hand in the back of Dean's pants sliding completely in. Dean's eyes widened a fraction as Castiel began peppering kisses across his cheek and jaw, totally lost in what was happening until Castiel wrapped his fingers around the shaft of his gun, tugging it slightly before moving his fingers to the handle.

Oh.

Dean pulled Castiel closer in by sliding his hand down his pants as well, finding Castiel's gun. "Shoot at guy behind me-" Castiel started in a whisper, breaking his words with a kiss to the spot before Dean's ear. "-on my word."

Dean nodded once, and Castiel back his head up, slowly leaning in with slightly parted lips. Dean moved in just as slow, the air around them growing still with a mix of anticipation and fear, the latter mostly from Dean. Castiel's lips were just a breadth off of his when he whispered "Now.".

The both of them slid each other's guns out of their holsters and out of their pants, hugging each other close in order to get their hands over to the gun to balance it and aim. Castiel shot first, the recoil of his gun shaking his shoulders, knocking Dean's aim off a bit, his shot firing just a moment after Castiel's.

Castiel's shot was spot on, firing off at the man's throat, shooting straight through the soft skin and muscle. Red splattered on the wall behind him, and the man slammed to the ground, a pool of his blood forming around him quickly.

The man in the chair yelped, tucking his feet up in to his oversized chair ripping out his gun from the side of his chair as Dean's gun fired, shooting through the wrist of the man behind Castiel. His gun clattered to the ground with a sick crack as the bullet slammed in to his bone, blood spurting from the wound. Dean shot again, hitting him higher up in the arm, and then once more by his stomach, down by his hip.

The shot man let out a scream, falling to the ground, and Castiel and Dean broke apart, pressing their backs up to the nearest wall, Castiel pointing his gun at the man in the chair, shooting once to knock the gun out of the man's hand, Dean pointing his to the door, which was slammed open a minute later, Mychalla busting in, followed by Viktor. Mychalla turned his back to the man in the chair, watching the door.

"Where the fuck my money?" Viktor asked, strolling up to the man in his chair, stepping gracefully over the streams of blood flowing in from each side of the room, kicking the man's gun away before he could reach down to get it. Dean admired how cool he looked.

"What? I-"

"-Where the fuck my money?" Viktor asked again, cocking his gun.

"Fuck! I don't know!"

"You have it?"

"I… I-"

Viktor rolled his eyes, turning the gun to aim at the moaning man against the wall, shooting him in the head, silencing him for good. Dean felt a roll of terror slide through his body, thinking of how shockingly different these Novaks were to the ones he'd been living with. He let his eyes roam over the two dead bodies, and hoped there wasn't more outside the small room they were in now. "Where your money?"

"…The bank…"

Viktor roamed his eyes around the room before stepping forward, thrusting his hand forward against the other man's neck. "I want my money, Curtis! Give me my money!"

Sirens were faintly heard far in the distance, and Castiel snapped his eyes to his dad. "Father."

"I hear."

"I don't have it," the man -Curtis- breathed out.

"That's bullshit!" Viktor shouted, shooting his gun at the ceiling. The white panel above them rattled, and all in the room looked up as powered white caulk fell down in a stream, landing on Viktor's forearm, stark against the dark suit jacket he had on.

He blinked down at his arm, staring at the crumbled ceiling and powder now on his arm before blinking once again, rolling his eyes up to glare at Curtis. His eyes had the power of Castiel's, burning so hard in to the man that Dean felt uncomfortable just being in the same room. Viktor finally rolled his eyes away from Curtis and up to the ceiling, aiming his gun up to shoot once more, the shot ringing through the nearly silent room, bullet clattering up in the ceiling.

"What up there?" Viktor asked. Curtis didn't respond. He rolled his eyes, done dealing with the uncooperative man. He rolled his eyes to look back at Mychalla, gesturing for him to find out.

The bodyguard sent a look to Dean, telling him to move and guard the door as he walked over to one of the empty chairs, hopping up on the armrest of it, stretching up high to push the loose panel. Shoving it hard a few times knocked it completely loose, sending it up into the empty room, the contents inside spilling down.

Three bags tumbled to the floor. Viktor stepped back to avoid being hit with the falling sacks. One of the bags had two holes through it, presumably from Viktor, and white streams poured from each hole. All looked on curiously as the man dropped to one knee, dipping his fingers in the white powder, rubbing them together slowly as he brought them closer to see.

He narrowed his eyes, pushing himself to his feet quickly, grabbing the two undamaged bags. He tossed one at Castiel, who nearly dropped his gun in an attempt to catch the bag. Viktor slung the other over his shoulder. "We need to go."

"And where do you think you're going?" Curtis asked, making an attempt to stand.

Viktor shot his thigh. "Anywhere but here." He turned to his group. "We need to go." He began walking, Mychalla following after him. Dean waited for Castiel to go before following him as well. Sending one look back to the two dead men on the ground, their deep blood streaked across the floor, Curtis' wound now adding to the pool.

Dean bumped himself in to Castiel, who was stopped in front of his father in the nearly empty main room of the club, the only bodies left in there being dead ones. Dean swallowed hard. "You and Dean go out back. You go out back, and you run."

"Where you going?" Castiel asked. Dean could see the worry cautiously worming its way on to his face -something Dean never thought he'd witness- and it flooded him with fear.

"We just going. I see you tonight Castiel, I promise." Viktor paused, the sirens growing progressively louder. "You need to go."

"Fathe-"

"-Go!"

Castiel clenched his jaw, his eyes growing hard and stoic once again. He nodded, hitching the bag up higher on his shoulder before beginning to run toward the back exit of the club. Dean followed after him without much more of a question, looking back over his shoulder at Viktor and Mychalla, who were running toward one of the side exits.

Castiel shoved through the heavy door, and Dean followed after him. The bag was smacking hard against Castiel's body, but his legs continued pumping hard, practically sprinting down the sidewalk in the complete opposite way of the club, winding his way through back alleys, never once showing any sign of tiring. Dean followed after him, mentally encouraging himself to continue, despite the burning in his thighs and how much his calves just wanted to give out and let his body collapse to the ground to rest.

Their breathing was hard, and Dean had no clue as to how long they'd been running, but he knew the area, and realized they were just a few blocks away from the shoreline. He could see the glow of the water, and he hoarsely called forward to Castiel. "Water's ahead."

"I know."

Dean could hear the sirens in the background still, and realized that while not all of the cruisers were chasing after them, there still were a few. "How do they-" Dean took the deepest breath he could manage, his lungs protesting. "-know we're going this way?"

"Searching."

They were nearing the final block before the body of water, and Castiel took a quick turn angling himself toward one of the piers. The sirens were getting progressively louder, and Dean realized that as hard as they ran, the police were still faster. Castiel was running hard, the bag flinging absurdly around his body, but he still didn't slow, sprinting himself straight toward the pier.

Their feet his the solid wood, and soon they were over the water, running down the runway. Dean blinked a few times. "There's not a boat at the end-" A breath. "is there?"

"Nope."

"We jumping?"

"Yep."

A squelch of tires were heard about four blocks to the left of them, and both looked over to see bright lights flashing as the vehicle sped toward them. Their eyes widened, and they began to run as fast as their legs could carry them, and for once, Dean was grateful for the forced runs Mychalla had taken him on to build up his stamina.

The cruisers were a little under two blocks away, and Dean was just a few steps behind Castiel, who launched himself over the edge of the fence surrounding the pier, launching over with such grace that Dean lost himself in it for just a few moments, distracted enough to mistime his jump, catching his hips as he dove over the fence. He flipped over the edge, yelping as he went over, his back meeting the water first as he flailed recklessly on his way down.

The water exploded up around him, and he struggled underwater to turn himself around and swim back up, his clothes billowing around him, the front of his shirt nearly blocking his way of sight.

A hand wrapped around his wrist, and he was being tugged to the surface. Castiel was kicking hard, and Dean shook his shoulders, getting his shirt off his face before finally realizing it had been Castiel who pulled him up.

"Come on," he said, dropping Dean's wrist, beginning to swim as fast as he could under the pier as the police cars squelched on their brakes, skidding to a stop on the road leading up to the extension over the water. Dean could see some of them running as close as they could to the fence surrounding the steep drop-off in to the water, pulling out their guns.

"Swim faster," Dean warned, going as absolutely fast as he could while still keeping an eye on the men aiming their guns. A few shots were fired, and he felt his heart drop. "They're gonna catch us," he breathed, swimming faster and closer to Castiel, rounding up on his side. The bullets were whizzing passed them in the water, a few nicking on Dean's shirt and shoes, ripping small holes in the cloth.

"No they won't."

Castiel was sorta right. There really wasn't much of a way for them to be captured after they were completely under the part of the pier going in to the land unless the police surrounded them and a few swam in after them. That wasn't really good enough, however, and the closer they got to land, the closer the police's bullet came to them, whizzing just millimeters passed Dean's body..

"I'm not sure about th- SHIT!" A bullet shoot straight across Dean's biceps, cutting open a large gauge that salt water filled immediately, stinging his skin and the wound. Dean looked down to see blood beginning to cloud around his arm, but shook his head and shook it off, biting his lip, drawing blood as he continued to swim, every movement sending a revolting shock of pain through him.

Castiel hadn't seemed to have payed too much attention to him, just continuing to swim as fast as he could, though he stopped to wait for Dean once he got about five feet from the solid cement wall. "Take deep breath. Swim straight down, and go through hole. Don't worry, you fit. Just… take deep breath, okay?" Dean nodded, clutching at his arm. Castiel look at it briefly before nodding himself. "Okay."

It took him another moment, but Castiel was sucking in a deep breath of air before diving straight down, kicking hard to propel himself under. Dean watched him go down, taking one last look at his arm before sucking in a breath, following Castiel down just the same.

The other swam near to the bottom, squirming himself through a hole barely big enough for his body. Dean looked on cautiously, the best he could through the cracks he allowed his eyes to peer through, but decided his only option was to go through. He kicked hard, getting down to the edge, where he reached out and pulled himself through. The sharp edges of the rocks scratched and pulled at his skin, and he felt his wound tear open wider as it hook on a jagged piece of the moss-covered stone.

He yelped, letting all of the air out in his lungs, but he couldn't stop. He kicked harder, fitting through the hole, straining desperately to get to the surface on the other side.

When his face broke the surface, he sucked in desperate gulps of air, flailing to keep himself afloat as he regained feeling in his limbs, his lungs calming from the strain they'd been under, his eyes adjusting to the near pitch darkness. There were a few cracks in the cement wall, letting light flood in from outside, illuminating the water beneath them, casting faded designs on the the roof of what Dean could only call a cave.

"Where are we?" Dean asked quietly, though his voice echoed around, making him sound as though he hadn't muted his voice at all.

"Found this when I was kid. It uh… hiding spot."

Dean whipped himself around in the pool of sea water and his own blood, looking for Castiel. "Where are you?"

Castiel stretched off from where he had himself perched, his breathing still a bit hard as he tried to calm himself down, holding his hand out to Dean, who gladly took it. Castiel guided him to the rock, and Dean clambered up on in clumsily, falling flat down on his face as soon as he could.

He was given a minute to relax before Castiel was poking at him. "Roll over, Dean. I need look at your arm."

"You can't even see in here."

"I figure it out."

His voice was serious, and despite his desire to stay exactly where he was, and how much his muscles screamed in protest, he rolled over. Castiel was immediately observing his arm, getting as close as he could to it.

"Shit."

Dean looked at him. "What?"

"That fucked up."

"Yeah, thanks."

Castiel shook his head, sitting up, reaching forward to tug up on Dean's shirt, getting him to take it off. He put it under his back to pad himself from the rocks. Dean watched him as he took off his own, ripped it in half without a second thought, and rung out as much of the water soaked in to it as he could before wrapping it around Dean's arm. It wasn't tight enough for him to loose his arm should it be on too long. The salt water once again stung the wound, but the makeshift bandage was as good as they were going to get.

"That the best I can do. It not seem to hurt too bad…" he offered, his voice raising in a tone of consolation.

"I think I'm in shock."

The two of them were silent for a minute as Dean adjusted to the new pain, and Castiel adjusted to the cold rolling over his body.

Dean reached out to put a hand on his knee. "Thank you." Castiel nodded once, his body shivering, and Dean narrowed his eyes. "You're cold."

"So?"

"Come here."

"I am here."

Dean rolled his eyes. "You're so fucking difficult." He patted his chest a few times. "Come here."

"Why?"

"So I can keep you warm." He reached across his body to grab Castiel's hand, tugging hard enough to get him to move. The other was stubborn, though eventually moved, draping himself strangely over Dean.

Dean sighed and adjusted their bodies, pressing their chests together, wrapping his arms around Castiel, spreading his hands out wide across his narrow back. He could feel his muscles contracting, shivers rolling through his body, and despite the other's reluctance to do the same, Dean held him close.

After a few minutes of hard shivering, Castiel finally responded, worming his arms around Dean the best he could without pinning them between their bodies and the rocks below.

"Doesn't this hurt you?"

"A little. Not much."

Castiel relaxed his head against Dean's chest, finally giving in to what was happening. "Then why you doing it?"

"To keep you warm," Dean explained, shivering once himself.

"That pretty stupid thing to deal with pain for."

Dean shrugged. "It's worth it."

They lay in silence for nearly two hours, the only sound was their breathing, or the occasional shift on the rocks. Neither of them were really wet anymore, but Castiel made no effort to move, and Dean never dropped his arms from around him.

"I have joke," Castiel muttered against Dean's chest, lips brushing across his skin.

"Do you?"

Castiel nodded. "Okay. Why does chicken coop have only two doors?"

Dean thought for a minute, then shook his head. "I don't know."

"If had four, it be a chicken sedan." He laughed quietly. "I have another."

"Okay."

"What do you call a fly with no wings?"

"I… I don't know."

"A walk," Castiel said quietly, laughing a bit once again.

Dean smiled, laughing a bit, his body shaking Castiel with him. "Oh god."

Castiel smiled against his skin. "I have another."

"You have more?" Castiel nodded. "Then do it."

"Ask me if I'm a tree."

"What?"

"Ask me if I'm a tree."

"I-" Dean shook his head. "…Are you a tree?"

"No."

It was dead silent in the cave. The serious tone of Castiel's voice and the lack of movement from him had Dean shaking with disbelief at the absurdity of the joke. Castiel grinned against Dean's skin, chuckling deeply, his eye squinting shut as Dean's laugh grew louder, echoing around the cave.

"It not even that funny," Castiel said between his huffs, but Dean didn't care, laughing loud and carefree, Castiel shaking on top of him with every contraction of his lungs and abdomen, his hands sliding inch by inch across his back, the warmth in his body resonating through Castiel, heating every inch of his body.

Their laughter died off after a while, and pleasant silence took over once more. "How your arm feel?" Castiel asked after a few minutes.

"Really fucking weird."

"How?"

"I mean, there's a hole in my arm… so, that's pretty new."

Castiel huffed. "Why haven't you said anything?"

"It wasn't really on my mind. I had something else to focus on."

"What that?"

Dean rolled his eyes, a hint of a grin on his lips. "Not telling you."

"Why not?"

"Not happening."

"Tell me."

"What I was thinking about?"

"Yes."

"No."

"Tell me," Castiel said, pushing himself completely on top of Dean, moving to straddle his hips. Dean's hands followed his back.

"Nope."

"Tell me, Winchester." He leaned in, running one of his hands up and through Dean's hair.

"It'll make things weird."

Castiel laid back down on him, resting his chin on his chest. "Tell me."

"You're not gonna let this go, are you?" Castiel shook his head no. Dean rolled his eyes up to the top of the cave. "Fine. I was just…" He tapped his thumbs along his spine. "thinking about how nice it was to be holding you."

Castiel was still looking up at Dean and they locked eyes for a brief moment before Castiel was turning to rest his cheek on Dean's chest again, worming a bit higher up on his body.

It was another few hours before anyone came for them. It was a shock to have the water break so suddenly in the silence of the cave, but the two of them flew apart the moment the first splash came, Castiel moving to the deserted duffle bag on the other side away from them, Dean groaning in pain at moving his arm so suddenly and broadly.

"It me!" Mychalla said, taking a few deep breaths as he continued to tread in the water, holding his flashlight up to look around. "Your father said you'd probably be here."

"He okay?" Castiel asked.

"Just fine. We need to go."

"Why?" Castiel asked, simply out of curiosity. He was more than ready to leave.

"Can't have idle car sit for too long."

Castiel nodded, immediately crawling toward the water. He grabbed the remnants of his shirt and tossed Mychalla the bag, who was waiting with open arms to catch it. Dean followed suit, grabbing his shirt as well, hissing with every movement.

Mychalla noticed. "What wrong with him?"

"He injured."

Castiel slid into the freezing water of the night, and Dean did so as well, hissing hard at the sting of the water hitting his wound, despite that it was covered.

"Then we better get back soon. Come on."

Mychalla had the bag around him, so he dove down first. "You okay?" Castiel asked, waiting for a quick nod from Dean before following the other down. Dean took a moment to still himself, trying to push away the stinging pain before taking a deep breath, driving down as well.

It was like a chain, swimming through the hole again, and Dean was sure not to brush his bad arm against the jagged rocks as he passed through, surfacing up right beside Castiel. They followed Mychalla back to the shore and over to the waiting car. Another man was in the drivers seat, so Castiel and Dean sat in the back, their soaking clothes drenching the car around them.

Mychalla shifted in his seat, looking at Dean. "Let me see injury." Dean held out his arm, earning an eye roll from both men looking at him.

"You need take this off," Castiel said, reaching out to untie the cloth he had around the wound. It was nearly completely soaked with blood, and Mychalla's eyes widened at the sight.

"Holy shit. We need get you to hospital." The man driving changed his route without question, driving to the nearest hospital. "That bullet wound?"

Dean nodded. "From the police. It happened in the water."

Mychalla pulled a face. "Hope that not get infected. That nasty. I can see muscle."

"That's really comforting."

"Why aren't you screaming in pain?"

"In shock," both Castiel and Dean said at the same time, turning to look at each other.

"I think when it starts to hurt, my body just falls right back in," Dean explained, not looking away from Castiel, who was watching his with large eyes.

"That not good," Mychalla said, looking up as they arrived at the hospital. "We need get you in now."

Castiel hopped out of the car, taking Dean's hand to guide him in, though made no effort to drop it the moment they were inside.

What a sight they must have been, Dean assumed. A group of four men, three of which were soaking wet, two holding hands, and one with a ripped open bullet wound, all calmly waiting for someone to assist them.

It happened quickly in Dean's eyes. He was standing upright, Castiel right beside him when his vision began to grow blurry, speckled back filling in the corners as his legs began to wobble. The voices around him were garbled, and the only thing he could feel was Castiel's hand tightening around his own before his legs collapsed, and he fell on the floor with black in his sights.

When he awoke, he was in a hospital bed, an IV in his arm, stitches in his wound, and blankets over his body. He groaned. "What happened?" he asked, not expecting a reply.

"You passed out, they fixed you up, now you stuck here for another two hours before can go home," Mychalla responded.

Dean blinked blearily over at him. "You're here?" he asked, not disappointed, just confused.

The man nodded. "Had to take Castiel home. He asleep." Mychalla laughed quietly. "He not want to leave you, and then not want to rest once home. Alona gave him sleep pills."

Dean laughed a bit. "Really didn't want to leave then, huh." Mychalla shook his head, and Dean cleared his throat. "Can I have some water?"

"Sure." He walked over to the sink in what Dean was just noticing was a private room, filling a paper cup to bring to the other.

Dean took it gratefully, downing the liquid. "Thank you," he said, relaxing back on to the bed when he was done with the drink. "Do I really have to be here two hours?"

Mychalla nodded, and Dean groaned. "What, you want go home?" Dean nodded. "I see what I can do.

He could do a lot, as 40 minutes later found he and Mychalla walking out of the hospital on the promise that Dean wouldn't do much of anything once he was home, which he planned to stick to.

He trudged up the huge stairwells up to his room, peeking in to Castiel's room on the way. It was nearing one in the morning, and Castiel was out hard. Dean quirked up the corner of his lips, eyes roving over the sleeping mass of man with wild hair and squeezed-shut eyes, before roaming in to his room, stripping his clothes off completely before collapsing on his bed, just barely able to curl in to his blankets before falling asleep, the day's events wearing on him harder than before.

And also the drugs.

So the club scene was sorta based off of Date Night when they go to the club and they're grinding on the pole and shit trying to get over to the broom guy... yeah. Sorry if it seems a bit unrealistic. I'm 17. I don't go clubbing.

Anyway, sorry this took so long. I was so super busy, and then I wasted my time on tumblr, and wow. Sorry.

Let me know what you think of this so far! Also the new chapter's on the way, as in I've already started writing it, so... not so long a wait this time...