Even though the door closed behind Dean a few minutes ago, his smell was still strong in the air. The apple blossoms and pines and the sweet smell of the excited Omega that made his Alpha yearn for one thing; to go after Dean, tear him underneath, and bite firmly into his beautifully scented throat to fully claim him. He appropriated. He had never felt this desire so strongly with anyone, and most of the time, when his thoughts for more than a few seconds turned to the need to mate with one of his lovers, it was at the moment of orgasm and just after that. The instinctive need to ensure that the partner he has just filled with his semen stays with him so that he can supervise and protect his puppies. But always his rational brain caught up with his Alpha's thoughts literally instantly.
He leaned back and stretched his legs a little to relieve the half-hard erection in his pants.
That was the second thing. The scent of Omega, especially the excited Omega, could make him hard, but at the same time it was always unpleasant. The sweetness was too much for him. But not at Dean's. His sweet undertone was just exciting and not difficult. Even as he dug his nose right into his throat, literally directly into the gland only poorly hidden behind the two layers of cloth, it was still nothing but intoxicating. And the warmth of his body… the way his muscles stretched under his shirt as he breathed deeply… the way his neck closed when he showed it in the menu and humility… It affected his Alpha instincts more than any Beta or even Alpha he had ever been with. And that having sex with another Alpha was able to whip the instincts of both of them in a way that was hard to describe other than animal.
Castiel realized that what he was feeling right now was mainly based on how his pheromones interacted with each other. But he also saw the higher will. The Lord's intention is to put them together for the rest of their lives. The scent was what stopped him briefly considering whether to kill Dean to get rid of the witness. The scent made him find a way to keep him alive no matter what he knew. Yes, it was the scent that drew him insistently to it. But it was only Dean himself, his cheeky mouth and sharp tongue, the intelligence sparkling in green eyes, and his fierce loyalty and apparent love for his little brother, that he admired and why he wanted to get to know him better.
Pyotr interrupted his thoughts with a polite cough.
"Ulyana Leonidovna asks if you were satisfied and if you want anything else?"
"No, nothing. And it was delicious. As always," he replied a little distracted, without looking at Pyotr, but he stared at him, so he looked up at him and found Beta looking at him with a little amused smile.
He quirked an eyebrow.
"She's worried that your Omega didn't eat anything. She said she saw him from the kitchen and he was just skin and bone."
His nooks clicked in his smile. Ulyana Leonidovna was an Omega of very plump shapes and considered every man, regardless of the secondary gender, too thin if he did not have a prosperous belly at least like her husband. He suspected that he considered himself particularly emaciated, because she would cast a caring glance at him every time she carried away just a little bit of undernourished food, which she anyway loaded him with a third of the larger portion than the others. Out of respect, she was silent.
"Tell her that borscht is too… saturated for American tastes," he decided to send her a small, merciful lie after Pyotr, because to say that her excellent borscht considered Dean to be vomit would probably lead her to tears. He assumed and hoped that no one would tell her anything about smuggled burgers.
"I thought you'd want to tell her something like that," Pyotr replied with a smile as his phone beeped. He glanced at him before turning to Castiel again. "He's home, boss," he informed him right away, showing him his phone that had a picture of Dean heading to the motel reception. "Yeah, and the guys wrote that he had some trouble paying for the room. I had it handled on my own initiative," he added.
If he couldn't give Dean and his brother a better place to stay without attracting too much attention, he could at least make sure they were as comfortable as possible where he lives now.
"Wonderful." He nodded slightly and picked up the box on the table to take out his cigarette. "Anything else that needs my attention?" he asked before lighting a cigarette.
Satisfied, he inhaled hot smoke. He needed a little distraction from Dean and his wonderful scent and body before heading to the car. He didn't want to walk through a full house with a bulge on his pants. A cigar and a beer together with a little trading might help.
"The German lost another one hundred and twenty thousand yesterday."
Castiel blew out the smoke.
The fact that the German was losing a lot of money in their enterprises was nothing special. He had a really unlucky hand on the cards, but he never learned and played on and on. At one point, he owed almost three million dollars and had to sell one of his homes in Germany in order to partially repay the debt. Now, as far as Castiel could remember, his debt was somewhere between five hundred and seven hundred thousand.
The other one hundred and twenty wasn't a big deal, so he looked at Pyotr questioningly to see why he was even starting to talk about it.
"And on the way home, he did this," Pyotr said, before quickly searching for something on his cell phone, which he then handed over to Castiel. "There are more pictures…"
He put a cigarette in the corner and took the phone.
He did not recognize the girl in the photo, and it was not because her face was swollen, purple-red and bloody, that the German punched her in the face with something hard. He simply did not know the faces of all the girls he owned. He doubted that Vladko knew them, even though it was his job to take care of them.
This particular one had black hair, that eye that wasn't so swollen that it couldn't open it, it was dark brown to almost black, and her features and gently brown skin indicated that she might be from Turkey. Her lip was torn, part of her front tooth missing, her hair tangled, and one ear bloody as he pulled out her earring. Her face looked devastated, and just because Vladko had her photographed, he knew it was luxurious enough to have all these damages repaired. Dental crown, lip and ear plastic surgery, not to mention a huge wound above the eye. It's not free. If it was a street whore, he wouldn't bother, and if she was so scarred she couldn't work, they'd just get rid of her. Containers of molded waste bound for China sailed every day.
But this one got private custody.
He ran his finger over the screen several times to look at the rest of the damage. There were bruises in most of the photos. Handprints on her wrists, fist wound on her upper arm, large bruise under her neck, as the German pressed her forearm against her neck. Bruises on the hips and thighs. The two worst thing he saw was an Alpha tooth impression on the outside of her shoulder and on her right breast. Such bites healed quickly because the Alpha's saliva contained enzymes that promoted healing, and they rarely became inflamed - unless it was a refusal to mating - for the same reason, but the scars that remained from them were clearly visible and could hardly be confused with anything else. Without another plastic surgery to cover them enough, they couldn't offer this girl to any private Alpha client. Most of the Alphas did not bear the sight of another Alpha's bite very well. At best, it only disgusted them, at worst it infuriated them. Although there were a few who had the delightful pleasure of invading foreign territory and knotting someone else's Mate, but if she were to focus only on them, her clientele would shrink significantly. A small clientele has never been good for business.
"He knotted her?" he asked as he handed Pyotr his phone back.
"Yes He did it in the ass."
He rubbed the root of his nose as the smoke slowly blew out.
Except for the bruises and the bites, he probably ripped her ass off. Literally. This meant a liquid diet and lost profit for at least two weeks. Some people just couldn't take care of borrowed things.
"He has a Omega wife, doesn't he?" he asked; Pyotr nodded in agreement."Good. I think it's time to visit him and pick up some of the debt. And tell your men to talk to his Omega thoroughly. If anyone can explain to him how to deal with borrowed things, it is her."
"I understand. How strong should we be in the conversation?"
"Not enough to leave permanent damage. After all, a German is a quality and long-standing customer. It would be useless to lose the profits we have from it."
"Yes, boss."
"Now sit down, my friend," said, tapping the table next to him to indicate where he wanted it, and waiting for Beta to pull up his chair and sit down. "You have a nephew who was born here in America, don't you?" he asked and put out the cigarette.
"Actually two. One is fifteen and the other is only nine."
Fifteen… that was perfect. He was practically as old as Dean and not as much older than Dean's brother and was born in America, so he was, unfortunately, more American than Russian, as was often the case in these cases. When it came to Castiel's questions, it was the perfect combination.
He leaned back comfortably into the chair.
"I want to buy something for Dean. What gift would your older nephew like?"
°°0°°On the way to the motel, his heart slowly calmed down and his head cleared enough to push his miserable whining Omega into the corner of his mind and not ask Vadim to turn it around and drive him back to Alfa Castiel. The idea that he had to take care of Sammy and the weight of the paper bag with the food resting on his knees helped him in part. He would have forgotten it if Jacob hadn't put it in his arms as he sat next to him.
Toyota stopped at the same spot as the last time; out of sight of their room and reception. And Dean didn't wait for anyone to open it for him this time - although Jacob was obviously going to do it - he just stepped out and shut up without saying goodbye. He needed to get the fuck away from everything that reminded him of Alpha because he refused to deal with what had happened, even the tight feeling of loss he felt.
He clenched his jaw tightly and rushed to the front desk, noticing, by the way, that Alpha's men's car had left the parking lot. Probably just to park them on the nearest street, where they'll be watching him stealthily for the rest of the night.
He opened the door to the reception and headed straight for the counter. From the back room, where the manager usually lay on the sofa by the TV, there was some shooting. Beta couldn't hear him because his TV was too loud and he was deaf. He squeezed the buzzer on the counter several times and immediately from the back room heard a loud buzzing sound and saw a light shining above the door.
He didn't have to wait long for the cursing manager to emerge from behind and limp down to the counter he leaned on, casting a cloudy look at Dean from under his thick gray eyebrows. From the artificial leg and dog tags under his shirt, it was obvious that he was a veteran, but he was unwilling to say where he had served, even when Dean's dad personally asked him and introduced himself as a former Marine. Then he whispered something about it being none of anyone's business. But he had the sharp look of a soldier and still smelled of irritation.
"What?"
"I'm here to pay for another week. Room sixteen" he said as he put down the bag of burgerson the counter and reached for his wallet. He stumbled upon the crumpled bills, which he had just casually put in his pocket as he ran out of the restaurant. It would probably be best to pay them to get rid of them as soon as possible.
"It's already paid for a month in advance," the manager snapped.
Surprised, he looked up at the bills he had just pulled out. Sammy didn't have enough cash, unless he got it somehow. There were vending machines and a couple of occupied rooms, so, yeah, there was money to be raised if Sam decided not to wait for Dean to come back. But... His gaze slipped to the laminated price list glued to the reception. It was paid per night or up to a week in advance, that was the rule.
He wasn't even confused. He knew who was responsible. He clenched his lips angrily and put the crushed bills back in his pocket.
"You can't rent a room a month in advance. Who paid you for this?" he asked sharply, because he had to be sure who he really was. For one small moment he thought that maybe… maybe their Alpha had come back… but that was bullshit. I'm sure he'd be in touch.
"I didn't ask and I don't care," the manager replied, leaning a little. "If the types you see tell me they want peace and quiet and pay for a month in advance, I'll take the money and shut up. Whatever you two are doing in there, I don't want to know anything about it. And you... don't ever come here again. I'm not interested in getting into any trouble," he added sharply, before turning around, limping back into the back room and leaving Dean standing there.
Damn it.
Why did Alpha do this? He did not ask for his help and did not want to be indebted to him for anything, especially when he heard very clearly what he thought of those who let themselves be paid for. He was able to take care of Sammy himself. He had a job, the money their dad left them, and fake credit cards. And if all his savings ran out, he could get more. He always did, even when he was a kid. He didn't need anyone's help.
Annoyed, he pushed himself away from the counter, grabbed the paper bag and headed out into the cold evening air. On the way to their room, as always, he looked around, but saw only a half-empty parking lot. Not that it's reassuring.
He opened the door and walked into the room, only to meet Sammy's gaze thrown over the edge of the book his brother was reading while he was sitting at the kitchen table. Probably because it was the best light there was, and so he could check if the warden was approaching their room again.
Sam closed the book more sharply than he had ever been used to, and with a frowned expression he rose.
"Where have you been?" there was a growling dissatisfaction in his voice, but it was not really a growl. "I've written to you like… a hundred times or so. And you hung up on me."
"Relax, Sammy, I was just ordering," he replied, picking up a bag of food. "I brought you a burger!"
"It's Sam, not Sammy," he corrected as usual. "Did you pay for the room?" he asked instead of taking the offered bag, and remained one hand on the table.
"Yes. Right now. Now take your food," he urged him a second time, a little irritated.
Little Alpha measured him with the frowning glance of his damned searching eyes before he decided to take two more steps and take the bag out of Dean's hands. But as soon as he touched it, he stiffened and his nostrils stretched out as he sucked in the air. Another sound he emitted among the priced fangs was definitely a growl that was even real at some point, an Alpha growl and not his usual childish hoarseness. Not that it had any effect on Dean other than pissing him off.
He priced his own teeth and snarled back in a way that always flattened Sammy, but not this time. This time, the young Alpha was not intimidated. He straightened up to his full height - and damn, since when was he so tall?! - he turned off his chest and raised his chin in a surprisingly impressive Alpha pose. At first glance, Sam was skinny and full of arms and legs, but in reality… Dad made them both practice fighting and exercising regularly, so when he straightened out of his constantly stooping posture over his phone or book, he had surprisingly enough muscle for a twelve-year-old boy, albeit an Alpha. And by the looks of it, he could show off his muscles.
"You smell like an old Alpha!" Sam murmured, clearly dissatisfied and angry. "He has marked you. Who is it?
Dean's first thought, strangely enough, was not a denial, because hell yeah, he was marked with an Alpha scent, and only someone with no sense of smell would have noticed. He probably smelled like Castiel enough for Beta to know. It wouldn't make sense to deny it. His first thought was that Alpha Castiel wasn't old! He was older, yeah, but he wasn't really old. His scent was unbelievable, intoxicating, and unique, such as he had never felt. It certainly wasn't filled with mustiness, like the smell of all the old Alphas.
"It's none of your business," he snapped, before realizing that denying or lying would be a better idea.
"If he did it against your will… if he touched you… then I…" Sammy muttered, clenching his hands in turn and letting go.
No, he didn't touch me, he just stuck his tongue down my throat and it was so good that I almost fell to the ground. Yeah, that's right, Sammy, I almost knelt down at the feet of some knotter I barely know , he thought himself ironic, but he didn't say it out loud.
"So you what?" he asked with raised eyebrows. "Are you going to throw yourself at the old Alpha at least one head taller than you?"
Sam opened his mouth and immediately snapped it again and stopped posing as fast as he had started before. He could have been angry, definitely smelled angry, but he wasn't stupid. And he wasn't exactly the type of fighter. That was Dean in their family, no matter what secondary gender they were, and that Sammy was supposed to be the one who didn't go far for the shot. Just like any other young Alpha.
"No, just..." He pursed his lips in displeasure and wrinkled his nose. "If he did it without your consent, then it's a crime, you know? It's not allowed."
Yeah, like they care so much about what's against the law or not. They lived off card forgery, pickpocketing, petty fraud, and begging. None of this was exactly legal; in fact, Dean's work at the diner was not properly taxed income with a contract. As for the marking... He didn't ask for it and Alpha didn't ask for his consent, but it wasn't that he resisted when Castiel rubbed his scent gland against him, or that he didn't mind smelling of sour cherries and almonds.
"I agreed," said the half-truth; Sam's expression was a sheer surprise. "But fine." He threw the bag of food on the table and threw his hand. "If it bothers you, I'm going to take a shower," he added, heading to the bathroom.
"No!" he was stopped by Sammy's scream, along with his little brother standing in his way. "If you wanted it, that's okay. I don't mind, it's just…" he hesitated and looked at his shoes for a moment, as he had done when he was much smaller and ashamed of having done something. Then he lifted them up again with a sigh, and his scent was saturated with the gently spoiled sweetness of guilt. "Look… um…" With a nervous movement, he poked through his overgrown hair and rolled it back so it wouldn't sow in his eyes. "… I'm not used to… you know, you smell like an Alpha other than me or dad, and feeling someone else on you really annoyed me, I don't even know why. I've been so... pissed off lately, okay?" he sighed again, his back hunched and his head a little drooping, smelling now not only by guilt, but also by shame.
"Yeah, you're acting like a really annoying bitch," he agreed mercilessly. No, seriously, sometimes it was like Sammy getting stabbed in the ass, so he was annoying. And two years ago it was such a quiet puppy who sat in the back seat for twelve hours without making a sound. But the last two years… he still had something against their Alpha. He didn't like where he was going, he didn't like his dad's work, he didn't like the fact that he had a beer while he was driving... And every time he had to say something about it.
„I know! he shouted irritably and threw his hands. "I don't want to act like this, but sometimes it's just… like everything is boiling inside me and my Alpha is just growling and growling and I just can't think straight. I know my instincts are getting stronger because… you know, I'm growing up and stuff… I've read all about it, but reading is not the same as experiencing it." Suddenly he stopped and rubbed his lips irritably. "But you can't understand that because…"
"... because I'm just an Omega?" he finished off angry for him. "Do you think I never have a hundred appetites to just bite someone? Only stupid knothead think that Omega are weak and harmless. Believe me, we're not the damn ones! Let's try to touch some of Omega on her puppy sometime, and you'll see that she'll rip your arm off. And I," he made a threatening step forward, so that their chests almost touched, " can still kick your ass with blindfolded eyes. "
"I want to see you try," Sammy snapped and priced his teeth.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah!" he snarled and put Dean's hands in his shoulder.
It was just a little harder poking than their usual bickering, so he barely felt it. He pricked his teeth and gave Samy his own nudge strong enough to sweat backwards. Sam didn't even hesitate to rush forward with a growl and push him again. He covered up his faint blow and returned it just as softly. It was not so much a fight as just pushing and bumping into each other. A ball of thin hands, growling and purring, and a mixture of an angry smell with something softer, sweeter, like amusement, because no matter how much they got on each other's nerves, they could never really get mad at each other. And this was nothing more than a little posing and a false struggle for dominance, which, as always, ended the only way; Dean ran out of patience. He took the first opportunity to kick Sam's feet in one stroke, and before the young Alpha could recuperate, he sat on his back and twisted his hand just enough to hurt him a little and keep him on the ground.
"It's over, puppy!"
"I'm not a puppy! And get off me!" Sam snarled.
He slapped him across the back of the head until his forehead hit the trampled carpet.
"I said; It's over!"
Sammy puffed angrily, but he stopped fidgeting.
"You're just an idiot…" he murmured, but it didn't sound very aggressive.
"And you're a bitch," he snapped as he let go and got up. "I'm going to the bathroom when I get back, I want to see you eat," he ordered, crossing him and walking to the bathroom door.
He wasn't even halfway there when something soft hit him in the back. He turned abruptly and found that it was Sammy's shirt he had taken from chair and thrown in his back as a makeshift projectile. He frowned and confronted Sam's gaze, ready to send him to his ass, but a worried wrinkle between Alf's eyebrows stopped him.
"I want to know, Dean… are you seeing an Alpha?" he asked more seriously about his age than he probably should have, grinding his wrists gloomily, where Dean had held him a moment before.
"Maybe… a little," he replied vaguely. What else could he say? That he knew the psychopathic and murderous Alpha, belonging to the Russian mafia, who planned for them to live in a house with a bar fence, because he was obsessed with this nonsense with true mater, but did not intend to fuck Dean in the near future, although according to the kiss and the excited smell that accompanied him, he clearly did not desire anything else. And that 'getting together' wasn't exactly the best description of what happened between Dean and Alfa Castiel.
"Is that a male Alpha?"
He didn't answer, just glanced back at Sammy.
"Is he treating you well?"
He nodded before he could think.
"Actually, yeah, he does," he admitted aloud; when the very foundation of their relationship and the kidnappings passed, Castiel actually behaved surprisingly well for how much Alpha was at first glance. He didn't think it would last forever, but for now, it was fine.
"Well, that's all I wanted to know," nodded the little Alpha thoughtfully. "But if there ever isn't…!" he made it sound threateningly lost.
Dean just rolled his eyes.
"Yes. You've got it, and you'll take care of it,"he snorted in a clear mockery, before showing Sammy his back with another squint and snapping into the bathroom.
He first took off his shirt and threw it on a pile of the dirtiest thing he had to tow to the nearest laundry room sometime during the week. Then he took off his t-shirt and wanted to throw it to his shirt, but a breath of roasted cherries and bitter almonds stopped him. When Castiel put his nose down his throat, he must have rubbed his t-shirt, so now it smelled just like him.
Dean pressed the small area to his nose and breathed in slowly.
The smell was not too strong, though stronger than from accidental contact, and although there was a hint of musky excitement in it, it was more calming than anything else. He was enjoying it with his eyes closed, and although it wasn't the same as resting his head on Alfa's shoulder and breathing his scent directly, it was so close that his Omega silently advanced, and Dean could feel his tense muscles relaxing.
His last breath was before he pressed t-shirt to his chest and looked at his reflection in the mirror. Still clearly visible, the purple bruise on his belly and the same on his face was a clear reminder of all the reasons why he should throw the t-shirt in his dirty laundry and try to get rid of everything that had anything to do with Alpha. Stay as far away from him as his situation allowed, but… it was just a t-shirt, wasn't it? No one had to know that he would keep it - unwashed, smelling like Castiel - with him.
He put it on the sink before taking off the rest of his clothes and climbing into the shower to wash away Alf's scent, just as he had promised Sammy.
That then, a little later, he put a smelling t-shirt under his pillow could not feel the little Alpha.
°°0°°
He poured a big portion of chocolate chips into two plastic bowls and, after a short hesitation, took out a banana and an apple from the refrigerator and cut them both into one of them. Just as he poured milk into them, the kettle clicked behind his back. He put the bottle on the table because Sammy sometimes liked to dripped a drop of milk into his morning tea, and went to pour his instant coffee and Sam's tea. Finally, he put the smoking mugs on the table and sat down.
He glanced at the surprisingly full table.
Two bowls with a good portion of breakfast, two warm mugs, one large glass of beautifully fragrant orange juice at Sammy's place and sandwiches with ham, cheese and tomatoes, already packed to take with them to school. And yes, there were two for each one. Because he could afford to waste food on himself, now that he had five hundred dollars in his pocket for nothing and he didn't even have to pay for a motel stay. When it came down to it, except for school lunches, he didn't have a single bill waiting to be paid this month. Having so much money at his disposal somehow… upset him. As far as his memory could remember, he had to turn every penny twice, and now he had so much at one point that he didn't know what to do with it.
He could have bought Sammy new shoes, which he already had badly beaten up, and a jacket, because the one he was wearing now had a whole wrist. And the backpack, the snack box… he stopped, as he slowly began to realize that he could do much more than such trifles. He could finally buy a new computer for Sam that he couldn't get a van in the back door, where he could only hope that a) the seller is not actually a trader with Omegas b) the FBI wouldn't break down their doors because the computer originally belonged to some pedophile or terrorist.
And he owed it all... Alf Castiel.
The previous enthusiasm left him again, replaced by bitterness and a little anger. He didn't ask him for help, he didn't ask for money, which he eventually accepted out of coercion, and, presumably out of stupid pride, he wanted Alpha to know that he wasn't asking for any of it.
He reached for his cell phone, opened conversation they had and began to write.
Dean: you paid for the room
Dean: I didn't ask for it
Done. He told him exactly what he wanted and did it rudely enough to make him feel much better. He put down his phone and managed to just drink his warm coffee and put the first spoon of chips in his mouth when the phone announced the incoming message. Dean froze. In fact, he didn't think Alpha could answer him, and he certainly didn't think he could do it so quickly.
He dragged his phone across the table and opened the conversation.
Castiel: Hello, Dean. He didn't have to ask for it. It was a matter of course.
He stared at Castiel's response, wondering if the Alpha was deliberately blinding them to his willful insolence, or if he really didn't understand what he was trying to tell him. He decided to make it right.
Dean: it wasn't thanks.
Castiel: I know. But I probably won't get a sincere thank you from you, so I take the dishonest as a thank you.
He opened his mouth in a slight surprise at Alf's words. Yeah, well, none of his thanks were genuine, but... Castiel believed him, didn't he? And if not; was there no correctness in such arrangements, like all parties pretending that it was all voluntary and all thanks real?
Suddenly, another message popped up on the screen
Castiel: What are you doing?
He read the message twice before glancing at the bathroom door from behind which he could hear the hum of the running water in the sink. Sam was there for a long time, as usual. It would be nice if Dean could say that he was jerking off, like every other Alpha his age, but in fact, he was probably flossing his interdental spaces right now. That meant he still had some time to get to the table. And he could use that time to answer Alpha, because... he probably wouldn't be happy if he didn't, would he?
Dean: I'm having breakfast
Dean: yu?
Castiel: I'm on my way to a business meeting and we got stuck. Probably a car accident.
Dean: aren't you just trading at night, Alfa?
Castiel: I wish... It would suit me a lot more. At least the meeting could be held in the Blue Sky.
Castiel: What do you have for breakfast?
Asking someone you barely know what they're having for breakfast was a little weird, but when you think about it, Alpha might as well ask what kind of underwear they're wearing. He didn't mind questions about food.
He pushed his cup of coffee to a bowl of chips and instead of describing what he had, took a picture… And then he sent it to Alf.
Dean: blue sky?
Castiel: Black coffee? I wouldn't expect you to drink it.
Castiel: My club.
He rolled his eyes. What was that? Something like young people shouldn't even drink coffee because there's caffeine in it and it's harmful?
Dean: you gave me a beer coffee is fine.
Dean: Dance? sex?
He sent the second message with a cozy smile while biting the inside of his lips. Mentioning sex in front of Alpha was like talking about your pretty ass; definitely not safe, but fun for sure. He vividly imagined that Alpha had the same look on his face as he did yesterday when he mentioned his potentially shrunken bullets.
Castiel: I also love black coffee when I wake up.
Castiel: I was surprised by the beer. I thought Omega liked sweet things better.
Castiel: It's a private club for the Alphas.
Dean: sexist shit
Dean: I love pie, but who doesn't love pie?
Dean: I don't like colorful things.
Dean: neither soft
Dean: I don't need comfort
Dean: and safety
Dean: I like the danger
Dean: like a fast ride
He hesitated with his fingers above the keyboard. He shouldn't have written it. He was even aware of it so clearly that he could stop for a moment, but then he found himself writing further.
Dean: and the mysterious alphas
The few seconds before the message was sent seemed like an eternity to him, and strangely enough, he did not make the desperate attempt of fools to press the buttons at random in a foolish attempt to stop the message. And it wasn't because he knew it couldn't be done anyway. Something in him just wanted to provoke the Alpha in a slightly different way than he did with the Knots in the bars or at the gas stations who had bullshit. He couldn't help himself. His Omega was literally trembling in the tense expectation of an answer.
Castiel: I don't think you're an ordinary Omega, Dean.
This was a tame answer that surprised and confused him. And looking at the next report, his confusion deepened.
Castiel: But I don't have much experience with Omega. You're the first Omega I want to spend time with of my own free will.
Alpha often spoke oddly, perhaps because English was not his native language, but this was not just oddly spoken. This must have been a lie. Alpha, like Castiel, must have had the whole descent of eager Omegos of both genders behind his perfect ass. What Omeg… must have had a lot of women, regardless of the secondary gender, and certainly a lot of men.
Dean simply wasn't going to believe this' little Omega experience 'bullshit. The only reason Alpha said that was to make Dean think he was special. A trick as old as humanity itself. Hell, he did use it a couple of times either.
How could he forget, if only for a moment, what game Alpha was playing…?
Dean: bullshit
Dean: I bet you got a lot of omeg around
Dean: and women
Castiel: Regardless of the subgender, I'm not attracted to women, and I never wanted a male Omega until I met you.
Oh, right. I'll swallow it, he thought with a grin. How naive was he in Alf's opinion? The claim that some Alpha didn't care about Omega was about as believable as saying that someone would remain a virgin their entire lives. Omega was just something the Knothead couldn't resist. He was sure of it. For example, he himself... did not even have the ideal shapes for Omega, and yet it was enough to just roll your eyes, talk quietly, behave naively and let your pheromones do the rest of the work and voilà! It worked like magic.
"It's him?"
"Fuck!" he shouted and almost dropped his phone. "Damn it, Sammy, you can't sneak up on a man like that!"
"It's Sam…" the little Alpha muttered and sat down to his breakfast; the groped textbook he had in his hands ended up on the table. "Did you text him?" he asked almost casually, only a whiff of bitterness spoiled it a little, and opened the textbook in the place where he had put the bookmark with the batman's symbol.
"Yeah…" he replied succinctly, putting down his phone mainly in favor of his own breakfast.
"Will you introduce him to me?"
He froze.
His first, instinctive response was that it was no fucking coincidence. That's when Castiel made it clear in the dump. Sammy didn't know Alf's face or the faces of his men, so he was safe, so Dean was going to make sure he never saw them. After all, this wasn't forever, their Alpha would come back one day and then somehow get out of town, even though Alfa Castiel thought he had New York on command. Dad was a lot more resourceful than anyone knew.
"He's not from school." It was the first reason he thought about not introducing Sammy to 'his' Alpha.
"I figured it out, jerk." Sammy rolled his eyes. "I could tell by his smell that he was older than our classmates. And I'm fine with it, if you're okay with it. You can introduce him to me," he added firmly, it's hard to tell if he was convincing himself or Dean.
"We'll see…" he muttered vaguely around the spoonful of chips he had just put in his mouth.
"Can you at least tell me his name?"
He took his time chewing on a couple of soaked pieces of chocolate-tasting corn while wondering what the hell he should answer Sammy. Little Alpha was an incredibly rude little prick, and if he didn't get anything, he might have thought of doing something stupid. Digging into Dean's stuff, hacking into his phone, or even following him to another meeting.
"Cas... His name was Cas," he replied at last; nothing much was said, and it was close enough to the truth that he could not be mistaken the next time he spoke of Alfa.
"Cas? What a name...? Cas...?"
"Just Cas and done. Don't mess with it anymore and eat." He tapped his spoon vigorously on the edge of Sammy's bowl.
"Fine," Sam snorted, but he obediently scooped up a spoonful of chips, and at the same time drew a little textbook. He glanced at Dean one last time before, as he did every morning, he plunged into practicing that day's curriculum while putting food in his mouth. He's had this double combination mastered to perfection.
He followed him for a while, sipping coffee and swallowing his own breakfast. The silence has become a bit oppressive. He pulled out his headphones, stuck them in his phone, and released an AC/DC album. He wanted to put his phone in his pocket, but when the first tones of Highway to Hell sounded, he hesitated. He probably shouldn't leave the conversation with Alpha open like that.
He opened conversation.
Dean: I have to go to school
Castiel: Okay.
He frowned a little. This was a very brief answer to how 'serious' Alpha had been trying to get up to speed before. He was expecting… something. Maybe he was going to elaborate a little more and try to make Dean feel special, but it really sounded like the first and only remark was really just a… remark.
It wasn't the first time the Alpha had made him surprised and confused by his behavior. Maybe he could try to find out more about him. Know your opponent and understand him. The problem was, he didn't have much to go on. What did he know about Alpha? His name, if that was his real name, and now he knew about the club.
He opened Google and typed in the club name and Alpha's full name and, surprisingly, got a lot of results. He clicked on the first link.
Despite the large inscription "Blue Sky" - accompanied by the small inscription "private club for Alphas" - in simply decorative font, the entire page was in several shades of dark orange and black font. In addition to one photo, the dominant site, on which there was a large bar of luxfer and several orange padded seats at black low tables, there was only a simple top menu with the usual buttons, such as About Us, Drinks, Events,Galleries and Contacts. He tried them all and it always threw him on the page with the need to log in, except for Contacts. There he learned the opening house; every day from 22:00 until 06:00, the address, telephone number to the office, plus the name of the company that owns and operates the club. That's how he knew it had to be Alpha's club, because the name was written in Russian.
He frowned. He would have found out much more if he had registered, but... he swiped up and down the page, tried clicking sideways, refreshed the page several times and nothing. No one was allowed to register.
"You better hurry up with breakfast, or we're not gonna make the bus," Sammy shouted loud enough for his words to get through the music Dean only half heard anyway.
He took out the receiver.
"What?"
"I say you eat fast, we have to get on the bus."
He looked at his almost full bowl. Crap. So he got so caught up in the search for information about Alpha that he didn't even eat. Oh, yeah, now was not the time. Still… he still wanted to know more about Castiel and his club was the beginning.
"Hey, if a site has a registered section, can you get there without a password?"
"It matters…" Sam shrugged. "I can't get into the bank, but I can get into the teacher section of the shared school network without any problems. Why? Do you need to get somewhere?"
"I'd like to get here," he showed Sammy his phone. "Learn more about the company that owns the club. Can you do it?"
"Blue Sky," he read aloud. "What is it?"
"The club… only for the Alphas, as I understand it," he gave him an answer that apparently did not satisfy the young Alpha. "I don't know exactly what it is. I just heard something about it and wanted to look at the site, but literally everything is there after the password and nowhere to register."
"Okay," Sam nodded. "At first glance, it looks like the pages of any bar, but if they have everything under a password, maybe they will have good security. Send me a link." He got up and raked up the book. "I'll take my notebook to the school library and check it out this afternoon."
He escorted Sammy quickly to his bag before sending him a message and then sighed at the sight of time.
They will have to hurry a bit to catch the bus.