Castiel woke with the smell of motor oil and sweat in his sheets. He rolled onto his stomach and felt the prostitute's dick slide from him. His head pounded and his stomach ached again. The sheets were abrasive, but the arm laid over his side felt very soft and hard in a pleasing way.

Castiel glanced at the clock on the bedside table. It was only nine pm. It had only been two or three hours since the prostitute-. His name was Dean, Castiel remembered as he moved to sit up. Dean's arm tightened over him. Castiel's heart hitched then he shoved Dean's arm away.

"Sorry," Dean said, patting Castiel's lower back lazily.

Castiel said nothing and went to his bathroom attached to the bedroom. He turned on the shower, and went to the sink to brush his teeth and clear the bitterness of sleeping from them. As he did, the steam began to fog the mirror and the bottoms of the glass surrounding the shower. Castiel looked at himself before he spit. His hair was disheveled and his skin was gaunt. He already looked sickly and it hadn't even truly begun.

He spit and wiped his mouth before stepping into the shower. The water was scalding with his fever, but he couldn't cool it down, as he turned and spread himself open to wash away the semen tacking in his cleft.

His opening was tender as he brushed his fingers over it, swollen and puff, but already it reacted to his own touch, moistening again.

When he was cleaned, he stayed beneath the spray. With the steam, the scent of anything but water, tile cleaner, and soap were drowned. His instinct whined with the knowledge that an alpha laid in his bed, just beyond the door. All the rest of him assured that this was preferred.

When the water began to go passed comfortably cool, he stepped out and dried himself. He went back to his bedroom with the towel around his waist and took a pair of underwear from his dresser. He ignored Dean as he let the towel drop and pulled the underwear on.

"How are you feeling?" Dean asked.

Castiel looked over his shoulder and felt a full body flush. Dean was looking down his back, down to where he had just covered himself. He cleared his throat.

"Fine."

"Really?" Dean asked, pushing back the comforter and standing. "Because it doesn't smell like you're fine."

Castiel looked down Dean's body then glanced away. The agency clearly had their people stay in shape. Dean was half erect and Castiel's body reacted, wasting the fresh underwear he'd just put on.

"You're paying for it, might as well use it," Dean said.

Castiel was frozen, staring at the ground. Then Dean touched his side. He slid his hand over Castiel's ribs slowly until reaching his stomach. Castiel glanced at him and saw the question in Dean's eyes. He made his breathing forcibly deep as he nodded. He would never get the smell of alpha out of his flat after this. It hung like humidity.

Dean turned him and maneuvered him against his chest as he leaned down. Castiel bared his neck and stared at the far wall. Dean kissed the v of muscle along his throat while kneading his fingers into Castiel's back. Castiel squeezed his eyes shut and focused on his breathing as another cramp passed through his lower stomach and more lubrication matted his underwear to himself.

He pulled away from Dean and pushed down his underwear before walking to his bed and getting on his hands and knees in the middle. It took a few moments for him to feel Dean's weight on the mattress, but he didn't look behind. He kept his eyes on the ruffled sheets and blankets, glowing in the bleed through of the cities lights through his window.

Dean's skin was like water against the back of his thighs, soothing the burning. Then Dean's hand was rubbing up his spine and the other was sliding a finger into Castiel.

"You're already so tight for me again," Dean said.

Castiel gritted his teeth. "You don't have to do that. Just fuck me, please."

"How about you just let me make you feel good?" Dean asked.

Castiel exhaled and tensed. Dean added another finger. Castiel flinched. He was wet. He could feel that. His body wanted this, but he couldn't relax. He was drawn tight like a support cable and he couldn't release his mental death grip. He breathed more deeply through his nose to try and bring Dean's scent in. As much as he hated this, if his genetics could ease this for him, then that's what he wanted. He didn't want this to hurt.

He began to panic.

Then Dean's fingers were gone. Castiel breathed quickly and shallow as his heart raced at the knowledge that Dean was about to push into him while his muscles were so tight. He readied himself for the pressure and the unbearable sting.

Then Dean was pulling him open and coolness smothered his opening. He tried to pull away, his gut's reaction to the unknown, but Dean held him in place by his hips. Then it registered what Dean was doing, and Castiel's tension burned itself out like a blessing.

Dean licked around his opening then pressed his tongue inside of Castiel. Castiel drug one of the pillows beneath his chest and leaned his chest onto it as he muffled his noises into the cotton. He had grabbed the pillow that Dean had slept on. It was soaked in his scent.

"That's better, right, Cas?" Dean asked as he reached between Castiel's legs and tugged his erection.

"Yes," Castiel ground out.

He thought he heard Dean laugh quietly, but it was overshadowed by his own moan as Dean pushed his finger in again. There was no pain this time, not even as he added more. Then Castiel was moaning beneath Dean's weight with Dean rutting into his body. Dean gripped his shoulder for leverage and fucked into Castiel hard with Castiel's wordless noises.

When they were locked together again, Castiel felt the rush of relief, like drinking a glass of perfectly chilled water in the dead of summer. He panted from it as his spine tingled. He could hardly move as Dean laid them on their sides again.

"How is your stomach?" Dean asked.

"Full."

Dean laughed slightly near Castiel's ear as his hand moved back to his lower stomach and began to massage again. The three hours of sleep before had been restful, but to escape that he was knotted, he fell back asleep.

When Castiel woke it was to Dean shifting against his back. His mind was fuzzy and distantly he realized he was sweating into the sheets and Dean was fucking into him. The movement was upsetting his stomach. He felt like he might vomit. He grunted and looked over his shoulder at Dean looking down between them and holding him around his middle. Then Dean looked up and gave a ragged smile.

"Don't look at me like that, you molested me first," Dean said.

Castiel frowned at Dean, but it was cut short as Dean moved his hand over Castiel's hip and grabbed his swollen dick. Castiel's head dropped back onto his pillow as he groaned. Already he was tender, but the pressure from both angles was intensely pleasurable. He began to climax before the fog of sleep had entirely cleared then Dean was close behind, spilling himself and cooling Castiel.

When Castiel began to breathe more evenly, he raised his head and looked at the clock. It was only two in the morning. He shouldn't be so hot already. He shouldn't be sweating yet. If sweating and nausea came at all, it was toward the third day. The first few days should be easier.

He couldn't sleep again. So he laid in bed, staring at the wall just beneath the window as Dean breathed heavily against his back. One of his hands was on Castiel's side, rubbing. Castiel frowned. This alpha was very hands on. He went to tell Dean to stop, but he closed his mouth. They would be locked together many times over the next few days, there was no need to make this anymore awkward than it already was. If Dean enjoyed touching, then he could do what he wanted. The physical sensation of it was enjoyable if Castiel let it be.

Finally, Dean pulled back slightly and his cock slid from Castiel. Castiel laid still from a moment, then stood and pulled on his damp underwear before he went toward the kitchen. He enjoyed the openness of flat normally, but now he could feel Dean watching him and he wished his home had more walls. As he pulled open the refrigerator for a bottle of water, he heard movement in his bedroom, then Dean's footsteps.

"Would you like something to drink?" Castiel asked.

"Do you have any beer?"

Castiel snorted quietly. The alpha would want beer. He decidedly ignored the hypocrisy of his criticism, when he took a bottle from the lower shelf and another bottle of water. He gave both to Dean, who was leaned against the counter beside him. The apartment was still very dark, but the refrigerator light shone on Dean's body, highlighting the muscular contours of his torso. Castiel looked at him while the open door pushed out cooled air on his overly heated skin.

He stared until he heard Dean laugh quietly. Then he looked up to Dean's face to see him grinning again. Castiel closed the refrigerator and went to the living room. He clicked on a lamp beside the computer desk. He winced and looked away as the light made his head pound.

He glanced over his shoulder at Dean walking toward the couch in only a pair of boxers. A low cramp passed through Castiel's stomach. He went to the bathroom and sorted through his medicine cabinet to the side of the sink. He took a bottle of pain killers he'd been prescribed for a mild shoulder injury over a year before. He put the bottle back and his vision hung on the suppressants sitting near the front.

Finally, he closed the cabinet and went back to the living room and took the pain medication. Dean leaned against the couch arm. Castiel looked at him, then glanced away when Dean smiled again. He didn't think when he ordered this he would have to entertain. Then again, he hadn't thought much about the times between heat waves they would have to spend together. He had assumed that the alpha would just disappear in a puff of smoke then magically appeared when he needed his assistance again.

"Make yourself comfortable," Castiel said.

Then he sat in his office chair and started his computer. He heard the couch compress as Dean sat then the quiet click of the television as it came on. Soon the blue light of the screen glowed against Castiel's peripheral vision.

"I don't have satellite, but I have a movie service," Castiel began to say, then he saw the logo of the movie service on the screen.

"Way ahead of ya," Dean said. "What do you want to watch?"

"I have emails to go through," Castiel said, squinting at the computer screen as his head continued to pound.

He turned down the brightness and the pain dulled slightly. The pain medication would take it away soon, but by the way his stomach's cramps were coming on sooner, he didn't have long to sort through what he had missed in the last few hours. There were only a handful surprisingly. The one at the top was from Cooper.

Mr. Novak,

I've taken care of your appointments and cleared your calendar for the next week. I'll only forward you the most important things and if you preferred I didn't do that, then let me know and I'll hold them for you.

Let me know if you need anything. Hope you feel better soon.

Cooper

Castiel smiled faintly. It was relieving to know things were being taken care professionally at least. He went through the few emails Cooper had forwarded. One was from Paul Norton, the alpha he had run into before the meeting. It was an apology for his actions and a promise that it would never happen again, as well as a hope that it wouldn't affect their working relationship. Castiel replied telling Paul he had nothing to be sorry for and apologized for putting them in the situation to begin with. It made him feel good that Paul was proving to be just as reliable as his father.

Distantly, he wondered if Paul was seeking a partner. Paul hadn't smelled unappealing in the slightest. He was very handsome, well established, and respectful. Another mild cramp seized Castiel's stomach, pushing more lubricant from him. He heard Dean shift on the couch and cleared his own throat.

That was enough of thinking about that.

He made it through three emails before he began to sweat. It began on his forehead, catching in his brows. Even the glow of the monitor felt warm. Touching the keypad was nearly unbearable. The leather of the chair began to stick to his back and thighs.

Castiel leaned over his computer and opened the window in front of his desk. A breeze came through the screen and he exhaled as the smell of rain and car exhaust filtered in. It dulled Dean's scent and that somehow made it worse, as he searched for the scent beneath the smell of the city. On the television, someone laughed and Dean laughed too.

Castiel closed his eyes and breathed, squeezing the wooden top of his desk.

"You know, you can sit over there and sweat to death or you can come over here and I'll keep you cool," Dean said.

"I don't need to have sex yet, thank you," Castiel said, taking in deep lungfuls of air as his temperature increased.

"No one said sex," Dean said.

"I'm fine," Castiel said, making himself sit back on the slick leather.

Castiel opened another email and focused on the words. He read the first line repeatedly as he kept having to wipe his forehead then his neck. Sweat began to drip down his chest and run into the band of his underwear. His testicles were sticking to his thighs.

The air shifted around him and he groaned, dropping his head into his hands. It smelled like the sea made of waters far too cold to swim. It was bracing and he felt his skin tingle as goose bumps rose on his sweat soaked skin.

Then Dean touched the back of his neck. It was like ice. His palm was so beautifully frigid. Then Dean was rubbing his shoulders and down his back.

"There ya go, Cas," Dean said low.

It hurt to breath. Dean's scent was like breathing in winter, but he continued to, because he needed it as badly as he needed the oxygen. The throbbing in his lower stomach increased and he knew it would be incapacitating if he hadn't taken the pain medication. More lubricant burned from his opening.

Castiel pushed back his chair and stood up, brushing passed Dean. He went to the bed again and left his underwear on the floor as he got on his hands and knees again. There wasn't any apprehension this time. His body had gone passed the point of tension. It was bordering on desperation, but he kept his mouth clenched around the words a less man would have said. He kept himself from begging Dean to fuck him. Presenting like this was degrading enough.

Then Dean was behind him again. When he touched Castiel's hole with his hand, Castiel pulled away.

"Stop with foreplay. Fuck me or leave."

Dean gripped his hip and pulled him back, but Castiel felt nothing touch him. He looked behind him as Dean bent to look at his opening. He felt the brush of Dean's fingers probing the outer ring. It stung, but he groaned.

"Do it," Castiel said, squeezing the sheets.

"Calm down," Dean said roughly.

Castiel froze. His heart pounded and his head dropped forward against the mattress. He wanted to argue, but the way Dean had spoken didn't leave room for it. Instead, he panted against the sheets, breathing in the heat and bitterness of his own breath as Dean touched him too gently.

Then Dean was kneeling behind him. His thighs brushed the back of Castiel's then he pushed inside. Castiel made a strangled noise as it pushed the cramps in his stomach harder. His nausea returned and pushed against his throat. The friction was so hot. It was so ungodly hot.

Then Dean laid over his back, holding him around his middle with one arm and holding himself up with the other. Castiel arched back against him. Dean's skin was soothing, like aloe applied to a sunburn. Castiel clutched Dean's arm around him.

"Harder," Castiel said through gritted teeth as he pressed back against Dean's thrusts.

Dean moved a fraction faster. The bed moved beneath them, but it wasn't as hard as Dean could be. He'd been more forceful the first time. Castiel squeezed Dean's wrist.

"Fuck, harder," Castiel said.

Dean reached under Castiel and pulled his erection firmly without speeding. Any more protest was drown under an orgasm and before Castiel could think coherently enough to ask again, Dean was locked into him and cumming as well. Castiel's arms shook, then he collapsed.

Dean picked him up again and moved to the head of the bed, laying them down. Castiel hadn't realized he was still clutching Dean's wrist until he realized where the smell of sea salt was coming from. He had Dean's palm pressed to his nose and mouth, heaving in lungfuls.

"That's the last time for a while," Dean said behind him.

"Do you need time to recuperate?" Castiel asked, breathing so hard he wasn't sure he would finish the sentence.

"An hour maybe, but it's not that," Dean said. He reached between them and gently pushed at the rim of Castiel's hole. Castiel winced and pulled away slightly. "I'm not going to split you open."

"How courteous of you."

Dean laughed slightly, but even with the very little time he'd known him, Castiel could tell there was no humor in it.

"Listen, I'm not a doctor or anything, but from my experience, most omegas don't need it this often. Not anywhere close. I've never seen someone get as hot either. Maybe you should go pop a few suppressants and sit this one out," Dean said.

Castiel grunted in reply.

"I'm serious," Dean said. His hand returned to Castiel's lower stomach again. "You don't smell healthy, man."

"Twelve years of suppressants will do that," Castiel said.

Castiel regretted saying it as soon as he opened his mouth. He didn't want pity, he certainly didn't want it from an alpha prostitute, but there was something genuine in Dean's voice and in his actions. He had his prejudice, but he wasn't a cold-hearted man.

"Holy shit," Dean said.

Castiel made a non-committal noise as Dean continued to massage his lower stomach. It helped to lessen the cramps with the medication and a fresh dose of Dean's pheromones. He was nearly comfortable for a few precious moments. He hoped Dean wouldn't ask anything else, and to his relief, Dean didn't.

Castiel was drifting when Dean pulled out of him and left the bed. He saw the bathroom light flip on and heard the sink running. He was nearly asleep again when cool wetness passed between his cleft, pressing at his hole. His breath caught as Dean then passed it over his limp dick and testicles. He moaned tiredly as Dean washed away the sweat and combined semen from his skin. By the time Dean was finished, Castiel was looking down at him, laying on his back.

His face was as aesthetically pleasing as his body. The bathroom light shone on his hair, bringing out the natural higher notes of blonde from the dark background. His skin was lightly tanned and his face had fine stubble. With the fine line of his nose and fullness of his lips, he was beautifully handsome.

"Why do you do this?" Castiel asked with his voice roughened from the noises he had been making.

"Because it sucks to walk around with cum all over you," Dean said.

Castiel smiled small. "I mean, this," he said and gestured to the living room. Indicating everything.

Dean shrugged, still rubbing the washrag across Castiel's stomach. "It pays the bills and I get to have sex."

The reality of Dean's answer was very honest and that was refreshing, but it was the answer he would have expected from any alpha, not an alpha that had been careful with him. Not one that was almost tenderly cleaning his body. Then he knew nothing about this industry aside from what he'd read. This could be how all alphas treated their clients.

When Dean looked up again, he held Castiel's eyes for a few moments.

"And I guess, I know I'll treat them as good as I can. I'll make sure they're taken care of and don't have to worry about some guy being a prick on top of already being uncomfortable."

Castiel gave Dean a small tired smile. "That's noble."

Dean gave a real laugh again. "You've got a strange definition of the word," then he shrugged again. "I figure, if I don't do it then who else will?"

Castiel laughed slightly. It wasn't particularly funny, only than there were many worse jobs one could feel a compulsion to do. The honest sound surprised him and he was worried Dean would get offended for a fraction of a second before Dean smiled.

"Look at that, he's even more handsome when he smiles."

Castiel snorted as he felt a different kind of heat faintly color his cheeks. It wasn't maddening, it was almost pleasant. He allowed Dean to clean the rest of his stomach, then he sat up.

"Excuse me," Castiel said, then he stood and went to the bathroom.

He closed the door without feeling uncomfortable in nearly twelve hours. It seemed there were small blessings. This heat wouldn't be pleasant, but at least there may be pockets of comfort, which was more than he had thought to hope for.