Summary: New neighbours, a fight and an accident beset the pet mud-monkeys' lives. AU Sam/Dean Gabriel/Castiel unrelated slash. Sequel to 'A Walkies On The Wild Side' and 'The Sidewalk-Burger'.
A/N: Contains hopefully humorous candid language. Please don't read if easily offended. This story takes place in an earthlike Heaven where the people are angels and their pet mud-monkeys (ref. S04E07) are simple humans. Everyone looks exactly like they do on the show. No furry beasts here.
Disclaimer: I do not own Supernatural, its fandom, its characters or anything connected to them. I do not make money or profit in any way from this story.
Hey Babe (Part 4) by frostygossamer
Later that night Sam led Dean to their basket and lay down, allowing the sickly, slightly smaller muddie to lounge comfortably on top of him, warmed by his body heat. Dean slept for a while, and Sam was beginning to slip off into dreamland himself when Dean shifted and sighed.
"You OK?" Sam asked solicitously.
"Was just thinkin' 'bout how nasty it was wakin' up at the vet's," his friend answered, with an involuntary shudder.
"What was it like, mudz?" Sam asked. "Scary?"
"Kinda," Dean admitted, before remembering his tough-guy facade. "Only WASN'T freakin' scared, obviously," he added.
"Tell me," Sam suggested, stretching sleepily.
"Well, at first I was dreamin'," Dean began.
"Dreamin' 'bout what, mudz?" Sam wondered.
"'Bout nuthin', just dreamin'," Dean went on. "Like I was home layin' in this basket, only it was freakin' uncomfortable and kinda... wrong."
Dean shivered at the horrible memory.
"Whaddya mean 'wrong'?" Sam probed, gently rubbing at the tight knot already forming between Dean's shoulders.
"Dunno, dude," Dean answered. "Just freakin' wrong. Noises sounded all strange, not like home. Opened my eyes and BAM! everythin' came back," he screwed up his face at the memory. "Freakin' pretty car, gittin' tossed up in the sky, flyin' like some damn weird-ass bird, ground comin' fast up at me, hurtin'. Then everythin' black and freakin' WHAMMO! There I was."
"Where?" Sam asked stupidly.
"That was the thin'. Didn't freakin' know where. Place was queer, new. Weird-ass sounds, Weird-ass smells. Some kinda jail cell. Glass walls, hard bed, no food, just a little bowl of freakin' tap water."
"Oo-oo!" Sam observed. He really didn't like the sound of that.
"Reckoned I was DEAD. Dead and gone to someplace MEAN," Dean moaned. "Fur bein' a BAD muddie and not mindin' what Master said."
"But you're NOT a bad muddie," Sam objected. "Well, not mostly. You're a GOOD boy, aintcha?"
"Nah," Dean admitted. "KNEW chasin' cars was bad. Been told off before. Got excited, broke the damn rules."
Sam nodded. "Yup," he agreed. "That was WAY freakin' bad."
"Only," Dean went on. "Only there was sumthin' familiar 'bout the place. Sumthin' made my skin freakin' crawl."
"Ugh," Sam huffed sympathetically.
"And then it hit me..." Dean explained. Sam held his breath. "Vet's!" Dean yelped. "Argh! No, no! Was at the vet's place. Tried to git up and run, but sumthin' had me all trussed up with binds, legs all wonky, couldn't stand. And that stoopid-ass freakin' highway cone 'round my neck. Couldn't see right. Freakin' TRAPPED!"
Sam stroked Dean's belly soothingly. "Weren't trapped, mudz," he assured him. "Just sick."
"Oh yeah, duh?" Dean commented. "Wasn't sick sick, just hurtin', all alone and tied up. No Master, no Sam, freakin' no one."
Dean was trying to rub in the horror of his experience, to point up exactly how damn brave he had been. But Sam only empathized with his suffering.
"Mudz, you WERE scared," he concluded, full of concern.
"Hell no!" Dean retorted, vehemently. "Was NEVER freakin' scared. Why'd I be scared? So NOT a freakin' mud-pup, dude."
Although that wasn't strictly true. Dean had been scared to wake up alone and sick at the vet's. He had been a sheltered house muddie his entire life. He had NEVER woken up in a strange place before, NEVER woken up without his master near by, without the familiar smells of home. It had taken every ounce of his courage not to freak out and whine like an abandoned newborn.
He described his situation to an awed Sam. "Was in this little hutch place, layin' on some ratty-ass blanket, nuthin' in there 'cept that bowl of tepid water and some kinda dish with a little sand, poor-ass excuse for a litter box. Only drank the water cos my throat felt nasty, like I'd bin snackin' on the freakin' litter sand."
Sam inhaled. "Sounds damn cruel," he opined in disgust.
"WAS cruel," Dean agreed with feeling, and continued. "After one freakin' LONG time some angel in a white coat came and opened the hutch door, reached in and checked me over. Didn't know what to do so I kept real freakin' still. But then the angel petted me and I felt a little better. She gave me a bowl of dry food and filled up my water. Food was OK, not as good as Master's but OK, and I was freakin' HUNGRY. And then I pooped in the little dish."
"As you do," Sam observed. "Nice angel?"
"So-so," Dean allowed. "Was just driftin' off to sleep, hopin' when I woke up next time I WOULD be freakin' back in my OWN basket, when the vet angel came and took me to the BIG TABLE. Kinda hoped Master would be there, like usual, but he wasn't. Vet checked me over damn good, but I managed to keep my goodies away from her glinty eyes."
"Lucky," Sam commented. "Dude, that angel's got a hankerin' for your marbles."
"Don't I know it," Dean agreed, shivering. "AND, cos they'd put this big-ass funnel thing on me, couldn't see what else she did. After that they left me in the cell to sleep. Slept pretty damn deep. Was all kinda fuzzy. Probably they poisoned me, I guess. All I remember is they poked at me once and agin, and brought me food and water till Master came. Mudz, was I freakin' GLAD to see him! Was ALL over him. SO freakin' happy when he brought me home."
"Was I super-glad to see YOU, mudz," Sam chuckled happily. "Figured I was gonna be bunkless from now on. Missed that smexy feakin' butt, mudz. Missed it one whole damn bunch."
Dean was pleased by his friend's kind words.
"Missed you too, dude," he said sincerely. "Missed freakin' ALL of you."
~xXx~
It was almost a week later when Castiel opened his front door to find an irate neighbour on his doorstep. Zachariah could barely contain his anger.
"Your creature, Mister Castiel," he fumed. "Your OUT OF CONTROL creature has VIOLATED my darling Lisa."
"Violated?" Castiel quavered. "MY creature?"
"Yes!" Zachariah asserted forcefully. "YOUR creature. That damned mud-monkey. The one you call 'Dean'."
"Dean?" Castiel repeated, somewhat shocked. "MY Dean? Oh, I'm sure... No, he wouldn't..."
Castiel knew that mud-monkeys weren't exactly self-restrained sexually, but somehow he couldn't see his Dean 'violating' anything. Not that the muddie wasn't capable of it. Castiel had, after all, himself witnessed displays of sexual gymnastics between him and Sam, but he really didn't take Dean for some sort of sex-criminal.
"He would and he DID," Zachariah insisted. "He was SEEN climbing over the fence into my back yard. On a NUMBER of occasions. Clearly with the aim of having his brutish way with my innocent little darling."
Castiel wavered. Of course his Dean was just a mud-monkey, after all, subject to his instinctual carnal desires. Maybe he had, well, followed his nature.
"That beast should have been neutered, MISTER Castiel," Zachariah continued, making the word 'mister' sound especially rude. "My Lisa is RUINED."
Castiel recovered himself a little.
"'Ruined' is a harsh word, Mister Zachariah," he said. "A couple months and she'll be good as new."
Zachariah scoffed. "Lisa is a SHOW-muddie, Mister Castiel. I can't SHOW her when she's in mud-pup, now can I? This season is a total write-off."
Castiel considered that attitude a trifle mercenary on his neighbour's part.
"So that you know, I do intend to SUE," Zachariah went on. "And I'm going to make sure you're forced to NEUTER that dangerous creature before he deflowers another defenceless innocent like my darling Lisa."
So saying, the pompous angel stormed out of Castiel's front yard.
Stunned, Castiel wandered into his living room and dropped down on his couch. Dean and Sam, who had been snuffling around hopefully in the kitchen, trotted in to see what their master was doing. Castiel put his hand inside Dean's cone and scratched the muddie's head absently.
"Oh, Dean, you naughty boy," he murmured. "What have you done now, you silly muddie."
Dean looked at him quizzically. Castiel sighed.
"Why did you have to get frisky with that stuffed shirt Zachariah's precious mud-female?" he wondered aloud. "If I'd known you could get over that fence..."
Dean didn't get any of that, so he turned to Sam for a translation. Sam's eyes were huge with outrage.
"Dean!" he gasped. "You didn't... You bin climbin' the back fence and doodlin' Lisa behind my back?"
Dean quickly thought back a ways.
"Dude, first time you were out of it on the closet floor and I had to..." Dean began to explain.
"Cheater!" Sam snapped. "Behind my freakin' back!" he repeated as he turned away.
It wasn't Dean having sex that Sam objected to, obviously social sex was fine. It was being SNEAKY about it. Like it was something he had to hide. It made it feel like Dean knew his motives WERE so wrong he had to conceal them from Sam. Sam felt betrayed.
"Dude, you were sleepin'..." Dean maintained weakly, to Sam's retreating behind.
~xXx~
After filling his stomach to calm his nerves, something that takes a little longer than usual when you're wearing a funnel, Dean went looking for his companion. He needed to offer Sam some kind of account of his actions. He found him, as expected, squirreled away in their favourite closet. Dean pushed at the door and was surprised to meet with resistance.
"Lemme in, Sam," he whispered hoarsely, "Gotta talk."
"Humph," Sam replied from inside, a faint sob in his voice. "No point in talkin'. 'S done. Broke Sam's heart."
Dean sighed. He hated it when Sam was like this. Unlike Dean, the big goofy muddie kind of wore his heart on his sleeve, so to speak. It hurt Dean to see him unhappy, especially when he seemed to be the cause of it.
"Not as bad as it sounds," Dean ventured. "Wasn't dissin' you, mudz. Wouldn't do that."
Sam heaved a big sigh behind the closed door. Dean could almost see him sadly blowing his bangs out of his eyes.
"Know Lisa's a hottie, mudz. Like Lisa too. But maybe YOU like Lisa more than you like Sam?" Sam asked with a quavering voice.
Dean slumped down on the floor with his bare back against the door.
"Lisa's real hot, yeah. But Sam's smokin' hot too. Like Sam a whole lot," he assured his friend.
"Yeah?" Sam asked, and Dean felt the closet door open a couple inches.
Sam peered out at Dean, only one sad puppy-eye visible through the gap.
"Still buddies, huh?" he whispered.
Dean gave him his best aren't-I-cute-and-don't-I-deserve-a-cookie smile.
"Damn true!" he answered. "Always buddies, dude. You the best."
Sam opened the door a little farther and allowed Dean to slip inside. Dean curled his toes nervously in the carpet and looked down at his friend. The bigger mud-monkey sat slumped against the wall, his hands laying limp on his lap and his head drooping dejectedly. Dean climbed onto his lap and threw his arms around the muddie's broad shoulders.
"Lisa's one classy mud-chick, mudz, but she's not my friend," he insisted. "You're my friend, Sam. Best friend AND Beta. Never choose anyone else over you."
He ground his groin against Sam's and nuzzled into his neck. Sam felt Little Sam starting to take an interest in his friend's proximity. He grasped Dean's firm butt-cheeks and let his thumbs slip between, playing with Dean's pretty hole.
"Don't be mad with me, mudz," Dean pleaded.
"Tiny bit mad," Sam admitted. "But I guess, Little Sam, he's not mad at all."
Dean was relieved. He knew Little Sam's opinion counted for a lot with Big Sam. He smiled into the big muddie's neck.
"Little Sam wanna come inside fur a visit?" he offered generously.
"Uh-huh," Sam answered.
They spent the next hour making up, during which time Sam made damn sure he had reclaimed visiting rights to all of Dean's equipment and orifices. And Dean, uncharacteristically this once, allowed himself to be just a little submissive for the sake of Sam's wounded self-esteem.
Sometimes an Alpha has to take one for the tribe.
~xXx~
A couple weeks later, when Castiel felt sure that his muddie was fully recovered from his ordeal, it was time to remove Dean's pesky cone. By this time Dean had been wearing it so long he had almost forgotten it wasn't part of him. He had soon learnt to eat with it on. Nothing was going to stop him eating, after all. And, after a day or two, he had stopped walking into things. Sam had even given up mocking him about it.
Dean was laying on the living room floor enjoying a patch of sunlight when Castiel approached and began to tickle his ear. Dean half rose on one elbow and checked out the angel's hand for food, just to be sure, before stretching lazily and rolling onto his back to allow his master access to his smooth pink tummy.
"Time this stupid thing was off, I think," Castiel said, beginning to undo the fastenings of the cone with his unoccupied hand.
Dean reached up and patted the angel's hand playfully. He loved it when his master stroked him. It made him feel all warm and cared for.
Castiel chuckled. "Hey, just let me do this. You want the silly thing off or not?"
He finished unfastening the cone and pulled it off of his pet, then he ruffled Dean's hair.
"Looks like you need a trip to the groomer, my boy," he chuckled. "Wanna go to the grooming parlour, huh?"
Dean grinned happily. Parlour? Hell yeah! Dean loved the grooming parlour. The chick angels that ran the place all adored him and they always always spoiled him with candy.
If Dean had had a tail he would have wagged it. He couldn't wait.
~xXx~
Mindful of Zachariah's comments about uncontrolled creatures, and to help prevent anymore dangerous car chasing incidents, Castiel had gone out and purchased harnesses for Dean and Sam. Dean took one look at the things his master had brought home and immediately struck an attitude that was all about "NO!"
The harnesses were shiny and black and were held together by numerous buckles and metal rings. Castiel had to consult the manual several times before he got both recalcitrant muddies strapped up and could get into his coat for their normal park run.
While he was gone, Sam surveyed Dean appraisingly.
The top part of his harness was an X-shaped thing. There was a metal ring in the centre of his broad chest and another between his shoulders to secure his leash. This section in turn attached to a firmly cinched waist-belt with side straps that buckled tightly around each muscular thigh.
Sam noted that his tackle were not ridiculously concealed this time. This wasn't a cruel contraption like the one Sam had been subjected to by the vet, thank heavens.
"Least it don't trap up your junk," he approved, "like the nasty thin' the vet put on me that time."
"Clothes," Dean sneered. As far as he was concerned anything he had to wear was 'clothes'.
Clothes were so not a muddie thing. Muddies were proud of their bodies and loved the feel of fresh air on their bare skin. He wriggled uncomfortably.
"Not clothes, no," Sam judged, thoughtfully. "More like body armour. Totally awesome, mudz."
Dean liked that idea better. "'S not too uncomfortable," he conceded. "Feels kinda snug."
Sam turned Dean around and examined how the harness framed his friend's butt.
"Makes your butt look real good," he praised. "Plump and perky."
"Dude, my butt is ALWAYS plump and perky," Dean pointed out.
"True," Sam agreed. "Woulda bin a shame to hide it. Master did a good thing."
"Master IS good," Dean intoned, religiously.
He ran an eye over his friend. He had to agree that the harness suited him, enhancing the look of his wide shoulders and toned musculature.
"You look fine," he said. "'S good."
Dean knew Castiel wouldn't have forced him into anything too cruel. His master wasn't a cruel angel, far from it. After all, his master had taken in Sam so he could have a nookie-life. The angel didn't need Sam for protecting or companionship. Dean was awesome at all that. No, Sam was here for Dean. Of course he was. If Dean was going to be an Alpha, he had to have a troop. Sam was his troop. So he made an executive Alpha-type decision.
"Harness is good," he declared. "We WILL walk in our harnesses."
Sam almost swooned before Dean's clear voice of authority. What a mudder this guy was. Wow!
~xXx~
They stepped outside in good spirits, but Sam was a little less enthusiastic when Dean informed him where they were headed.
"Groomer?!" he growled. "'S nasty place. They paw ya all up and stick that noisy-ass freakin' trimmer thin' in all the worst places. Plus they got their eyes on my mane."
"Your freakin' what?" Dean asked, puzzled by the new term.
"My MANE," Sam tossed his head to illustrate. "My lovely HAIR. See this glorious head of chestnut curls I got? They have their way, it's all gonna wind up on the freakin' parlour floor. 'S a crime."
Dean scoffed. "Oh, yeah, damn sure."
Dean preferred his hair nice and short. He hated it when it hung down over his eyes. Got in the way of his protecting and defending duties. But, on the other hand, he did kind of love to get his fingers all twisted up in Sam's mop. When they were enjoying some energetic fucky, it was nice to have something to hang on to.
"It'll grow agin," he assured Sam. "No big freakin' deal."
Sam sighed. To him it was one HUGE deal. As it happened he didn't need to have worried. The girl angels at the grooming parlour squealed with delight when Castiel introduced his new muddie to them.
"Ooh!" they chimed together. "He's a BIG one, isn't he? And what a beautiful coat he has."
After their harnesses were removed, the muddies' hair was combed out to get rid of any twigs and knotty bits. Then the two mud-monkeys were bathed with a gentle mud-shampoo which smelled kind of herbal but made their skin feel all tingly.
"Ugh! Feel all freakin' CLEAN," Sam grumbled.
"Ah, but you smell REAL tasty," Dean commented.
The girls then trimmed their hair and blow-dried it, something that Sam did NOT enjoy because his long locks kept flapping in his eyes.
"Freakin' blower," he grunted.
Dean chuckled. There were advantages to having short hair.
Then they had their finger and toenails clipped. That wasn't something Dean liked at all. He would rather have grown his nails into dangerous weapons, like the fierce mud-monkey he considered himself to be.
One of the angel grooming assistants then appeared with a bottle of oil which smelled sweetly of coconuts, perfect to moisturize their unprotected skins.
"What's this fur?" Sam asked Dean, suspicious of the unfamiliar perfume.
"Sexy pheromones," Dean explained. "They rub it on ya. All over. 'S good."
Sam had never experienced a full body massage before. He found being rubbed down all over his body by skilled angel hands very stimulating, and even a little arousing.
Dean noticed his friend's eyes roll back in his head with pleasure.
"Hey, dude! Don't let that weenie get too interested," he warned Sam.
"Oh yeah?" Sam responded dreamily. "'S goo-ood."
"Nah. 'S not good. Angels don't like it," Dean warned. "Try to thinka sumthin' droopifying."
"Real hard to do when you right here, mudz," Sam snickered.
Dean chuckled. "Try thinkin' 'bout froggin' sumthin' like a... a rubber boot."
Sam squirmed around happily. "Right now I'ma thinkin' I could frog a rubber boot real good," he snorted.
Dean huffed. "You spritz your juice right now and you'll be sorry. Get kicked outta here and back to your OLD parlour."
Sam sobered right up. "OK. Rubber boot, baseball mitt, fugly skunk. That oughta do it," he said. "Dude, just keep your plump tooshie outta my line of eyesight, huh?"
Dean smirked. "You got it, mudz."
Finally, while relaxing after the full-body massage, they were treated to some extra special mud-candy.
"Yum! Chocolate!" Dean yelped. "My favourite freakin' candy."
Luckily for them, the angels had invented chocolate specifically as a totally suitable candy for mud-monkeys. Sam was delighted to be given treats.
"My old master's groomers NEVER gave me candy," he grumbled. "Said I'd git fat. Huh!"
Dean surveyed the big muddie's trim yet powerful physique.
"No need to worry 'bout gittin' fat, mudz," he remarked. "You're WAY sleek."
"Backatcha," Sam returned, with a saucy wink.
TBC
A/N: So Sam got Dean back but now he's a cheater? Last chapter up tomorrow I hope...