Title: Siren Song
Author: HigherMagic
Pairings: Dean/Castiel, Dean/Sam (mentions of/non-graphic, non-Wincest), mentions of Castiel/Chastity and slight Gabriel/Lisa and Lisa/OMC and almost Dean/Gabriel , almost Dean/Uriel(ALMOST)
Rating: NC-17
Word Count: ~21,000
Spoilers: Well kinda Pilot and kinda S6 but it's AU.
Summary: He was alone and without close back-up and was not stupid enough to be caught next to the Alpha wolf's injured mate when their altercation half a year ago had yet to lower to a simmering point. The vampire stood swiftly, making sure he took in and rememorized Dean's scent to track him later, and took off running. Sam found Dean minutes later, the scent of a vampire on him, but Dean had fallen unconscious and was therefore not able to answer any of his questions.
Notes/Warnings: Prompted by earth_heart , who wanted Top!Vampire!Cas and Turned-Vampire!Dean *blames him completely* Sequel to Dormant Siren and contains sex, surprise plot twists, CHEESEY ENDING AND SOULBONDING, and language. I think you might have to read the previous one before this one but I'm not sure. It would probably make vague sense as a stand-alone. Again, guys, this is not my best work. I mean, it's okay but the plot kind of took a weird turn that I didn't expect and my Muse is a BITCH and yeah. Either way, I hope you like this, Benny :D
Also contains total butchering and fuckery of mythology. Enjoy *cowers and slinks away into her corner*
Unbeta'd. All mistakes are my own.
In a small playground in a slightly larger town in the middle of nowhere (only deemed 'the middle' because all one could see was desert and grasslands in all directions and it was equidistant from the two largest neighboring cities) a boy sat curled up on himself under the non-shelter of a tortoise-shell climbing frame. He had his hands around his middle, legs bent up to his torso and forehead resting on his knees. His body was trembling and it was obvious why – he was wearing only an emerald green t-shirt and blue jeans, his feet clad in loosely laced, dark boots.
His breath was misting in his air, and when he looked up to find the moon in the sky, his exhales were frequent, creating an ever-present cloud of steam in front of him that was colored white like when light shines through dry ice.
Emerald eyes that were dark with pain found the light of the almost-full moon. It wouldn't be long until he was found and his body trembled just a little more at that thought.
To anyone else, he would like some angsty teenager or homeless man or runaway, but Gabriel could smell the blood.
Scattered around him were various energy drinks, both bottles and cans, all emptied, and candy bar wrappers that lay in shreds around the crumbling remains of the sweets they'd held. Even as the Second watched, the boy reached with shaking hands to a large bag of skittles, tearing open the bag with such unsteady hands that half of them scattered. He took in a startled, frightened breath, the sound seemingly too loud for him, and hurriedly cupped what sweets he could find, either in his lap, on the ground or still in the bag, and dumped them into a liter-sized bottle of red Gatorade. The sweets fizzed gently and the boy threw the bottle cap away, gripping the drink in both hands and tipping his head back, swallowing the concoction like he'd swallowed the Cure, not even six months ago.
He downed the entire thing, Skittles and all, some of it sloshing red down the sides of his mouth and soaking his neck and chest, making the cold get to him worse and creating a desperate parody of what he had been before. His hands were still shaking but it wasn't from the sugar high – despite evidence to the contrary, his blood sugar levels remained low and unchanged.
Dean let out a low, pained sound, grabbing at his side again and he whined, baring his teeth as he pressed against himself, just below his ribs. His fingers came back bloodied and shaking, contrasting beautifully with his moon-pale skin. Gabriel allowed himself a second to just…admire.
Six months. It had taken him six months but he'd finally found the Alpha werewolf's mate. The boy was just as pretty as he had been before, illuminated by the silver light of the moon, making him look so innocent, his eyes dark and shielded by his slightly-longer hair and the shadows of his face. His full lips were wetted with the drink and he licked them, his breath misting around him again and he was shivering, goose bumps rising on his skin as he hugged himself tighter once again, trying to conserve body heat.
He was bleeding fairly rapidly and Castiel would kill him if Gabriel let Dean die; the Second vampire approached the boy silently, but still Dean tensed, knowing he was there. "I'll admit, Dean-o, I've seen you looking better," Gabriel commented lightly and the boy shot him a defiant glare with eyes that held a silvery overcast to them.
"You," he snarled, baring his teeth as he recognized the Alpha vampire's brother.
Gabriel licked his lips lightly, remembering his own initial desire for the boy before his Alpha had snatched him up, and his gaze traveled down to Dean's blood-soaked fingers. "Had an accident?"
Dean growled a little, sounding more like an animal than he had as a vampire, and Gabriel cocked his head to one side, remembering Dean's unique…condition. Was he still ignorant? Had he ever been ignorant? "It was an accident," he said again, pressing his hand into his side and making a choked-off, pained sound. "I…I'm so…" He cut himself off, frustrated because he didn't know how to explain the sensations coursing through him – he was hungry. More than that, he was ravenous, and weak, and he felt like if he stopped eating for a second he was going to die. Shakily he pulled out another candy bar, this time a Snickers and bit into the treat, biting off way more than was necessary and chewing it quickly, the sound of his teeth grinding together the only sound between the two creatures for a moment.
More than hunger, though, Dean felt so…so empty. God, he felt like he had when Castiel had finally guided him to his room, laid him down and spread Dean's legs to finally feed him, to sate the fire of lust and thirst in his throat and in his blood, but he hadn't. Nothing had since Castiel had let Dean have at his neck – the boy was no longer a vampire but he was still supernatural, and now he'd gotten a taste of that power.
Gabriel seemed surprised at his insistence. "What was an accident?" he asked lowly, kneeling down, keeping himself upright (though he didn't need the extra help) by holding onto one of the bars above Dean's head. The boy flinched away from the Second vampire, and then hissed when the action caused pain to flare up his side. "Come on, Dean-o, I used to be a healer in a previous life. Let me show you what they've done to you."
Wary because he had a right to be, Dean slowly peeled his hand away from his side. His shirt was in tatters around the wound and Gabriel carefully pushed it up. Dean's hands were shaking so hard when Gabriel touched him and he tried to push the vampire away, to no avail, as Gabriel held strong and resisted the push of Dean's hands. There were three deep furrows in Dean's side, starting from just under his ribcage and ending just before the jut of his hip. Gabriel's mouth twisted in dissatisfaction – Great, he thought, all the organs and none of the bone.
Incubi fed off energy, and Dean was losing a great deal of blood. He probably needed it to heal and didn't even know it. Gabriel took a deep breath, and paused, swallowing back his gasp of surprise and desire. Dean smelled divine – better than any blood or any scent Gabriel had ever experienced. The air thrummed with blood and pheromones, the most enticing combinations of sex and red wine and chocolate. It took the vampire almost a minute to recover from the initial shock of it. Dean's eyes were fluttering closed, his pulse slowing down as he ran out of blood to pump, and Gabriel knew he was running out of time. He pressed gently at the edges of the wound and Dean let out a low, pained sound, like an animal. His entire body was trembling and Gabriel was sure the boy was minutes away from passing out, because he didn't open his eyes and he'd given up fighting Gabriel off, just lying back and surrendering to what the vampire was about to do to him, possibly even inviting him – Dean's head was resting on his opposite shoulder, baring his moon-pale, unmarked neck to Gabriel and the vampire licked his lips, his mouth starting to water as he leaned forward, immersed in that scent and not giving a damn for just what exactly he was considering doing – the punishment he would undoubtedly suffer. His lips were mere millimeters from Dean's slow pulse when -
- a howl rang out around them and Gabriel froze. He was alone and without close back-up and was not stupid enough to be caught next to the Alpha wolf's injured mate when their altercation half a year ago had yet to lower to a simmering point. The vampire stood swiftly, making sure he took in and rememorized Dean's scent to track him later, and took off running. Sam found Dean minutes later, the scent of a vampire on him, but Dean had fallen unconscious and was therefore not able to answer any of his questions.
"The air almost choked me with his pheromones. He smelled like a Goddamn female in heat." Gabriel flinched just remembering, able to almost taste Dean's blood on his tongue and he swallowed, guilt and horror washing through him as he reminded himself that this was his brother's kill, not his own, and Gabriel had no claim to it. "It was like he was calling me forward, Alpha," he whispered, eyes closed in shame, head bowed because he couldn't help confess that almost-trespass.
Castiel stopped in the middle of his circuit of the room, pausing in his pacing to look at his brother. Gabriel's heart had started to slowly beat out of anxiety and the Alpha stalked forward, cupping Gabriel's cheeks with his hands and tilting his brother's face up. He placed a light kiss of benediction to Gabriel's forehead.
"Relax, Gabriel, my beloved brother," he murmured gently, a small smile on his face when he stepped away, "I would never have thought less of you for being unable to resist his call. Creatures such as Dean live off of energies that things like us can give them – he was probably trying to lure you, to be fed, if what you are telling me is accurate."
"It is accurate," Gabriel insisted, taking a step forward. "He had been clawed. He had been trying to save himself with sugary things humans eat and many energy drinks but I don't think they were helping him. He needed…more."
Castiel smiled slowly at the implications of that, turning so he could look over his shoulder at his brother, hands clasped behind his back. "I heard that Uriel had managed to capture another of these creatures…these…Incubi." He waved a hand vaguely in the air. "How close is he?"
"Last I heard he was three hours away from us," Gabriel replied softly, smiling a little in anticipation of seeing another of these things up close, of being able to study them and learn them again – Gabriel was, at heart, a scientist. "That was three hours ago. We don't have long to wait."
"Sam…Sammy." Dean bent over himself, clutching a hand to his stomach. God, this hurt, hurt so much. He needed…God, he needed…He choked on his inhale, his lungs too weak to expand, to take in the air he desperately needed, and he clawed at the strong arms wrapping around him, desperate for something – anything. He was so empty, so hungry, so needy. God, he wanted. Strong, warm arms wrapped around him and he inhaled greedily at a racing pulse, needing…God, needing so badly…This person…Sam, it smelled like Sam…was so warm and he smelled so good, like oil and sweat and forests and an animal, and Dean wanted. He wanted so much that it terrified him, made him shake with something other than pain and weakness. "It…it hurts."
"What's happening to him?" Sam's voice reached Dean's pain-fogged mind, obviously panicked. And God, if Sam was panicking then Dean should be downright terrified. The boy whimpered as another wave of crushing hunger washed over him and his hand shot out, found the soft muscle of a shoulder and dug in, hard enough to draw blood.
Another voice reached him, this one with dark undertones and a rough growl on the tail-end, and Dean whined in desperate need, his body clenching around the emptiness inside him. Briefly, for one terrifying, insane moment, he wished for Castiel's cold hands on him, for the vampire to be with him instead of these ignorant people, because Castiel had made it better. Those first two times, he'd made Dean feel satisfied.
He crushed those traitorous thoughts before they could show on his face.
"He's weak. He needs to feed."
"Jo and Ellen said they found him surrounded by food, Bobby. It didn't work."
Bobby. Bobby would feel good. He was big and full of energy for an old guy. Dean licked his lips, new and terrifying urges rising up in him and he curled in on himself more, whimpering when he tried to fight these thoughts away, disgusted with the idea of jumping on Bobby, of all people. He felt nauseous.
"I don't mean that type of feeding, boy!" Bobby barked with a harsh kind of bite to it, and it made Dean flinch within the circle of Sam's arms. He cowered away, his hand digging more harshly into Sam's shoulder, shedding blood. Dean's nostrils flared at the scent of it. His eyes shone silver.
"Sam…" he ground out, clenching his jaw, trying to fight back this urge because it was unnatural, damn it. He shouldn't crave Sam's blood…Sam's blood…God, it smelled divine…Unable to help himself, Dean pressed his nose into the hollow of Sam's throat, able to catch just a lick from a trail of blood running down Sam's chest, and groaned brokenly into his mate's skin. "Sam, God, what are you doing to me?" he asked in a small, pained voice, hating how he repeated those words, remembering Castiel's own, what the vampire had said to him;
"I've recently learned that feeding you the conventional way is dangerous unless I wear you out first…You feed off energy, Dean… I've been inadvertently exacerbating your condition. It's no longer safe for you or any of us to exist as you are now… be killed for this energy. You're shining like a beacon with it…Not to sound cliché but your life kind of depends on it."
Fire flared up his throat at the first drop of Sam's blood and he groaned brokenly, rubbing his throat with his free hand, trying to seek sanctuary in his mate's arms as he had before, but it wasn't enough…wasn't nearly enough…
"I don't understand," Sam growled, exasperated, and God why isn't he helping me? Dean thought, drawing in a shaky breath and exhaling against Sam's skin, leaving dampness behind. "I've fed from him before and he's been fine."
…He knows?
Dean drew in another short, sharp breath, his dark silvery-green eyes widening as his tortured brain began to catch up with what was being exchanged by the two wolves above him.
"He would never hurt me."
"That's a very naïve thing to think."
Castiel's voice was soft, mocking, and Dean hadn't paid attention. But…but it had been an accident! Sam had never harmed him before. Never caused him pain…he was perfect, he was…
"Dean's always been in your bed when you've fed from him, Sam," Sam's Beta snapped at him, clearly assuming Dean either couldn't hear them or wasn't paying attention. "He's managed to heal before he could be hurt, but you had to go and try him awake. He almost bled out in that damned park and you expect him to just be fine?"
…He was a liar.
Dean tried to straighten himself up, but Sam's arms were caging him. He was growing weaker by the second, the stitches holding his wound closed doing nothing to replace the energy he'd lost. He felt his eyes drooping, his body going into a frenzy of need before it finally just gave up. Dean had just enough time to think that Sam was doing this to him, before unconsciousness took him over and he collapsed into Sam's arms.
Sam's phone – a trite little piece of machinery that he'd only ever gotten because he had figured he needed to keep in touch with the children that were on other continents somehow – started ringing not even half an hour later. He checked Caller ID and snarled into the phone. "You better have a fucking good reason for calling me, Castiel."
"I'm surprised you even have me as a contact," the vampire replied smoothly, grinning though Sam couldn't see him, but the werewolf could hear the smug bastard's glee. "You should be nicer to me, boy; otherwise I might just see fit to wipe you and your immediate family out completely."
Sam snarled at the threat, empty though it was – Castiel's numbers weren't nearly enough to wipe him out or pose a significant threat to his three-hundred-strong pack. Sam's raid six months ago had seen to that.
"Why don't you just tell me what you want, mosquito," he growled, snorting the term derisively – to him, Castiel was a fly, a bug, something easily crushed but sometimes so damn fast that you couldn't kill it – you could only put out bug spray and nets and try to keep him at bay for a while or hope your traps killed him off.
Castiel chuckled on the other end of the phone. "You shouldn't be so mean to me," he repeated, then there was a pause, broken only by the sound of a scream, marred by static because of the volume and Sam winced as it hurt his sensitive ears. "I'm just calling to check on how my pretty boy is doing," the vampire drawled lowly into the phone.
Sam immediately stiffened, on the defensive. "He's fine," he said tightly.
"Oh Sam," Castiel laughed, "you're going to have to be a much better liar than that to fool me, even when I'm not there to smell you or read your body." The vampire 'hmm'ed a little bit, and Sam swore the only reason he didn't hang up right then was because Castiel, though arrogant and dirtier than the world's most famous con-man, didn't do things for no reason. He was calling because he felt he had to. "I'm calling because my Second recently saw your mate," he spat the word, "in pretty bad condition. Honestly, if you're not going to treat a prime specimen like that well then maybe I should take him off your hands."
"Fuck you," Sam snarled, and cursed himself for not replying with a more elegant retort.
Castiel chuckled, the arrogant bastard. "Sam, Sam, Sam, I thought you knew what you were doing." His voice turned scathing, hateful, and Sam paused for a moment, taken aback by how much Castiel seemed…insulted with his supposed neglect of Dean. "Have you even fed him properly? I'm guessing not because animals like you can't stop themselves biting when they're fucking, can they?" Castiel's tone was positively venomous now, and Sam could easily conjure a picture of the agitated Alpha vampire, growling his words into a phone. "No wonder he was bleeding out – you're too arrogant and scared to feed him yourself or even risk it!"
"I thought you said I could never bite him," Sam replied after a moment, more coolly than he felt because, he wouldn't deny it, though Castiel's race as a whole wasn't the most dominant, Castiel himself was much more powerful than Sam. One-on-one, the werewolf was cowed and the arrogant vampire knew it.
"I said nothing about biting him, nothing," Castiel replied into the phone, sounding breathless, before his voice tensed up again, his tone lowering almost a full octave; "I know exactly what game you're trying to play and it's not going to work with me, you self-righteous pup. You have no fucking right to treat him like this – to just use him for your own selfish pleasures and gains."
"How dare you," Sam snapped in reply, hands clenching into fists and he started walking, he didn't know where he was going but somehow he managed to find himself outside the door to Dean's room, the room where he knew his mate lay inside, unconscious, unresponsive but still alive. Just barely. From there Sam could hear his heartbeat and it was so slow. "How dare you, you parasite, try and tell me how to care for my mate. You may have had him but he was mine from the get-go. I've been feeding him -."
"Not enough," Castiel whispered, soft enough that Sam paused at the sudden change, from angry to pained. "Not enough, or he wouldn't have been so desperate for me in the first place. He wouldn't have been lapping at your blood like a kitten at milk."
Sam froze. "How did you know about that?" he asked in a low voice. He could still feel Dean's tongue on his chest, how the boy had moaned like a two-dollar whore when his tongue and lips came into contact with the lifeblood, and Sam remembered his own revulsion at it, at knowing his mate was stooping so low enough to need blood like some fucking vampire.
"Once a vampire, the craving will never really go away," Castiel replied, sounding almost…sad. "I've been doing more research since the time you took Dean away and killed my kin – been finding things like him, learning them and things about them. Been experimenting. I know what he needs and if you're not too proud, I'm willing to help him." The sound of swallowing and then another scream, followed by a hiss, and Sam had to wonder if this was evidence of those 'experiments', and just what exactly they entailed. "If you want your mate to live, since you're obviously not willing to do what has to be done, then you'll bring him to me."
"Why do you care so much?" Sam demanded, unnerved by the vampire's words. They were meant to be enemies. Castiel and Sam hated each other with a burning passion.
The vampire growled, exasperated and finally seemingly back to his old self. "Because 'mates' means something where I come from," he snapped, and then all Sam could hear was the dial tone. The werewolf growled into the phone just because he could, and then snapped it closed and slipped it into the pockets of his jeans, and pushed open the door to Dean's room. For a split second, while his eyes adjusted, everything was silent and Sam had a terrifying thought that Dean had just died while Sam was busy arguing for his pride. Then, his eyes adjusted, and he took in the rumpled sheets, the open window, and the empty bed.
Howls went up around him and Dean flinched to one side, breathing heavily as he braced himself against the thick trunk of a towering oak. Thank God Sam had chosen his fortress to be in a forest – there were a lot of confusing scents and tracks here but Dean knew them all. On top of that, his own scent was everywhere, and it would be hard for the wolves chasing him to find the freshest one out of so many confusing overlays. Everything looked…weird. So…vivid. Dean couldn't blink the weird effect out of his eyes and he'd never been this…well, far-gone before. Some instinct was just driving him forward but the rest of his body was in a bit of debate about that. His heart felt like it was thundering, ricocheting inside his chest so hard he had to think it was deafening and easy to follow, but really his heartbeat was soft, almost non-existent, so much so that he shouldn't even be on his feet, but for some reason he was.
When he felt strong enough to lurch over to the next tree he did, stumbling as the wolves' howls got closer. He could feel his breath coming harder, sweat running down the side of his face as desperate panic began to set in.
He had to get out of here.
Sam had lied.
Sam knew what was wrong with him – had known for a while – but he'd never told Dean or tried to help him, and that…that made him a liar. Dean didn't know where he was going but his instincts were calling him forward, pulling him towards something or someone. He didn't know but he didn't care because any direction away from the wolves was a good one – just towards somewhere he could get help. He leant his forehead against the cold, rough bark, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to try and get rid of the weird effect because it was fucking up his movement but he couldn't – everything looked bathed in red. The trees were warm but the air was purple – cold. Infra-red vision? He could see tiny animals scurrying in the undergrowth and with a snarl he lunged forward, falling onto his hands and knees and he grabbed at…grabbed at a vole. A vole that had life and blood and he felt feral, tearing the thing apart with his bare hands, hearing its soft final squeak of pain and fear until it was silenced, and he held the shredded thing to his mouth, pushing up onto his knees and he drank, lapped up the blood eagerly, without a care for how it ran down his arms in thin rivulets and spread out from either side of his mouth as he tried to take in too much too fast – he didn't care; the animal blood would help cover his own scent.
With every lick of blood he felt himself get a little stronger, and he whimpered at the sour taste of the vole's blood but it was working. Dear God, it was working. Dean felt like he could cry in relief. He used his extra temporary strength to haul himself to his hands and knees, then his feet. His legs were a little unsteady but they were strong enough to get him to the next tree, and his bloodied nails dug into the bark as he tried to steady himself, causing splinters to rip at his fingertips and he snarled in pain, the pinpricks of hurt mixing with his background ache, sharpening his mind and his vision for just a moment. He stumbled on with a single-minded purpose, his only goal to get away.
Minutes Earlier…
Castiel licked his lips, eyeing up the three Incubi that Uriel had managed to catch. They were all a family, bless them – one was a female, and he'd looked up the term. A succubus. But all of them were very much aware of what they were. It had, granted, made the interrogation a lot easier, but Castiel found he didn't much like the way they lorded their own knowledge over him. He found he didn't quite like Incubi who knew exactly what they were.
He approached the father, his lips twisted into a small grimace of distaste at the creature's state – he'd seen better days. At the beginning of this he'd been ruggedly handsome, if a little older than Castiel's tastes extended to (though really, who was he to talk), but now he just looked like a beaten, broken mess. He was also unconscious, as it had seemed that as long as he was still fighting, the other two were defiant as well. The mother looked marginally better – thirst and lust had made her desperate; she was gasping and bucking her hips in invitation, because apparently when the creatures were hungry, they got very horny. Castiel had filed that little piece of information away and put it into the situation with Dean. It had made sense.
"What exactly can you all feed off of?" he asked, but turned his attention to the son, the youngest one who could only be eight years old, with wide green-blue eyes and black hair to match his mother. He really was quite a pretty child. He was also Castiel's favorite because he was the most cooperative. His normally pretty eyes had become even more beautiful, taking on a silver sheen as time went on and hunger set in. Castiel remembered the silver hue of Dean's eyes and smiled at the memory. He approached the boy who whimpered, swallowing and staring at the Alpha vampire with frightened, dark eyes, his fists clenched but his legs spreading just a little.
Castiel didn't consider the offer, because he was many things, but a rapist (and a pedophile in the strictest sense) wasn't one of them. Still, that didn't mean he couldn't use a little of his vast persuasion skills to make the boy talk easier. He put on his most disarming, most predatory smile and stroked a hand down the boy's chest, delighting in the creature's broken whimper, then reached up to trace the side of his face.
"Come on, little one," he purred, leaning down just a little so the boy could get a good inhale of his scent, and he watched as the black became more dominant in his iris behind his silver eyes. "Just tell me and I promise, I'll let you and your parents go."
"Ben, don't say a thing," the woman cried out, but was silenced with a whimper when Gabriel stepped forward, taking his place between the woman's spread legs, rubbing her gently through her tight-fitting jeans and she whimpered, tears slipping out from the corners of her pretty jade-brown eyes. They were a little like Dean's and Castiel shoved that thought away. She shuddered as Gabriel pleasured her without a word, only his hands managing to make her shoot over that edge of pleasure, draining her slowly and weakening her by the orgasm.
It really was fascinating to Castiel.
He turned his attention back to the boy, taking his chin in his hand. "Look at your father," he whispered, turning the boy's head and looking with him to the anonymous, unconscious man who had blood dripping down one side of his face. "Look at your mother," he continued, the Serpent whispering temptation into an innocent's ear as 'Ben' turned tear-bright eyes to his sobbing mother. "And look at me." Castiel turned Ben's head, making their eyes meet and hold. "Tell me exactly what I want to know and you will all go free. You will see neither me nor a Child of mine for the rest of your lives. Now – what do you feed from?"
Ben swallowed, and Castiel could see it in his eyes when the boy broke. "Food, blood…s…sex." He choked off, whimpering. "Anything that gives life. Anything that sustains or makes it. We'd eat the sun if it didn't burn."
Castiel chuckled at that, finding it funny, and let the boy go and gestured for Gabriel to leave the tortured female alone. "Put them in one of the cages and let them have each other. Give the boy some blood so they don't die of malnourishment, and in a few hours, release them," he said, not missing the look of desperate gratitude in the boy's eyes nor how his mother shook and sobbed with relief. Castiel smiled to himself and fished out his cell phone to call the Alpha wolf, because really this kind of information (and having it) was something that he had to gloat over.
Another thing Castiel is (in certain circumstances), is a hypocrite.
"Alpha."
"Yes? What is it?"
A relieved, tired sigh. A job well done. "We've found him. We found Dean."
"And? Where is he?" Desperate, running faster, knowing they had little time.
"He's…shit, Alpha; he's not in good shape."
Dean flinched away when hands landed on him, growling, unable to see because of the silver sheen in his eyes, blinding him and only letting him see red and purple, and he clawed at his attackers. He was weak, but he would not be taken like this, taken advantage of in his desperate, needy condition. It could have been anything – wolf, well-meaning onlooker, a fucking rapist and he didn't care – he kicked as though it was something out for his blood because by his reasoning everything seemed to be anyway.
"Shit!" The hands went away, just for a moment, and Dean let himself relax. It was a stupid, crucial mistake. But he was tired – he'd ripped apart several more small animals and blood coated his skin. His hands were torn by the trunks of trees and stray bracken when he'd fallen over and ripped his hands open. Blood ran down his arms, staining his skin in a beautiful spectrum of red, gold and silver from the light of the moon that was now just beginning its descent towards the horizon. Dean whimpered when hands and arms stronger than he was wrapped around him, but he didn't stop kicking because he couldn't. He wouldn't go down without a fight, God damn it.
"Get the fuck away from me!" before I hurt you, his mind finished for him as his hand shot out, finding someone's arm, and he snarled, hearing the blood rushing through their veins, their slow, steady pulse –
Slow?
The scent of blood was overwhelming, both of his and of his attackers and he snarled, pulling on the arm, because he needed to be stronger and he could only do that by feeding. The call of blood was strong and Dean could feel his mouth go dry, his throat burning. He needed and he would damn it – nothing could stop him because his desperation and the promise of blood was just making him strong. In the back of his mind, he was horrifically aware of how much of an animal he was acting like, but the dominant part of his thoughts just…didn't care.
"Don't let him bite you!" Hands were at his head, then, trying to get him away from the arm that he held tightly in his grip, refusing to let go. "Dean, Dean we're going to help you – you just have to calm down and be patient! Dean!"
You didn't say 'please', the boy thought, almost delirious with lust and desire and carnal want. He snarled when he was pulled away from his prize, held from behind, and he threw his head back, a low growl sounding in his throat at the feeling of a hard, strong body behind him, because fuck yes, he could get behind this. He made a low, desperate sound, swallowing around the excess saliva in his mouth and he threw his head to one side, trying to find warmth, flesh, blood, anything.
He ground his hips back against the nameless creature, delighting to find that it was very much male. He made a pleased little sound, his eyes fluttering closed as he bent forward, trying to put as much force behind the motion but the man snarled in his ear and kept him upright. The sound of heartbeats was beginning to fade away.
Dean's eyes flared open again and he tried to see past the weird infra-red haze, tried to make out a face, something so that he could see the face of whoever was attacking him. He managed to blink it away long enough to see slicked honey hair and a grim smile before pain exploded down the side of his face and he collapsed, limp, in Uriel's arms.
When Dean came to, he was only aware of sensation. Warmth, encased in a downy cocoon of satiny soft sheets, his body shifted and the bed sheets moved in a gentle slide against his skin, feeling like the gentlest caress. He moaned despite himself, too exhausted to do anything but move very slightly, rolling a little more onto his side. He felt cold and tried to wrap the sheets and his arms around himself, but his hands only jerked feebly and then didn't move. He felt the soft pressure of restraints at his wrists and panicked a little more, but he just didn't have the energy – he couldn't move. The air brushed against his skin and he shivered, goose bumps rising when he realized he was naked, handcuffed to what he could only assume was either a bed or the comfiest cell he'd ever been in.
He moaned again, louder this time, as pain flared up the side of his face and through his arms and down his side, and he remembered being hit. He didn't remember anything after that until he woke up. His eyelids fluttered but he didn't have the energy to open them. His side hurt and he was afraid, so hungry still. His moan turned into a desperate whine.
And then, suddenly, relief.
There was a gentle, warm pressure at his mouth. He parted his lips willingly because there wasn't really any way he could have resisted it, and something was pressed against his mouth, but it was too big to fit in – too wide. His tongue flicked out curiously and he tasted skin, and sweat, and a pulse. Blood. God, yes, finally. He moaned, sucking at the skin, his lips dragging lazily across whatever part of the body was under his mouth – he was guessing a neck only because of the shape of it and the way the scent of blood was so potent – with no finesse, like a teenager learning how to kiss. Hands – gentle, soothing, warm hands – stroked through his hair, cradling his head and holding him upright so that he could easily lose himself in the scent and sound of this foreigner's pulse. It was no effort for his lips to curl back and his teeth to sink easily into the creature's flesh. Skin parted so effortlessly under his teeth, as though the body was graciously welcoming him in, and Dean almost sobbed in relief when he tasted the first dregs of blood on his tongue. He surged up, wishing to cling tighter but his hands wouldn't move, still, and he sank his teeth more firmly into the creature's neck. Above him, a body shuddered and lay down, resting on his with a gentle weight and Dean spread his legs, wanting contact everywhere he could get it, moaning when the stranger willingly fell between them, rocking their hips together. Dean's body tensed up eagerly, in anticipation, because this creature seemed to know what it was doing, to know what he needed, and Dean would give anything for the creature to keep feeding him.
The blood tasted of mint and chocolate. He knew that taste from somewhere.
His lips formed a tight seal around the bite, unwilling to let any escape, and he drank down as fast as he dared without choking himself. His body was warm with the fresh blood and his throat and stomach felt heavy, sated in the amount he was taking, the smooth, steady heartbeat of the creature above him pumping blood into Dean's mouth at the perfect rate. He wished he could touch the stranger, wished he could feel his body (again, Dean knew it was male because he was getting very strong evidence for it) and touch his face, hold his hair and jerk his head to one side and make him bare more of his throat for Dean, make him feed Dean even more and sate him. Dean's hips rolled just thinking about it, though he wasn't getting hard because his body wasn't sparing the energy to do so. No, instead, he rolled his hips in invitation, willing the creature to fuck him and feed him another way.
Dean almost purred when he heard the creature's shaky inhale and a hand stroking down his uninjured flank. The touch was light and tickled slightly and Dean shied away from the touch of it, ruining his meal with a slight, shaky laugh. Blood trickled down his chin and he pulled away, lapping at the small amount pooling the dip of a pale throat. He forced his eyes to open, looking up through hazy silver-green eyes to see…
God.
"Cas," he choked, looking up with wide eyes into dark blue-black eyes. The vampire was staring down at him with flushed cheeks, eyes bright and dark at the same time and Dean gasped again, licking at his lips instinctively as his vision faded away so that he could see properly again. Then, his gaze tracked to the vampire's neck again and he swallowed, letting out a horrified shaky exhale. "No, not again…"
"It's alright, Dean," Castiel purred gently, stroking a hand through Dean's soft hair. The boy whimpered and leaned into the touch, unable to help himself. With blood lining his lips and running down his chin and neck, staining his beautifully golden skin, he looked stunning. Castiel couldn't imagine having not been with him for six months – the time just seemed to melt away. Dean looked no different. "I don't think my blood will change you this time."
Dean frowned in confusion, lips already parting in a question that Castiel didn't let him ask, because the Alpha vampire's lips were on his again and Dean opened up with sweet surrender, his body starting to respond as his blood began to sing with energy. He felt warm, his heart jumping into a gallop in his chest. He pulled his hands, expecting them to move, but the restraints held firm. He whined pitifully, breaking the kiss and looking up to see his wrists manacled to the slats of Castiel's headboard. He made a curious sound, tugging on them again. There was blood running down his wrists, gathered and crusting around the bright metal. "What…?"
"Your hands were badly damaged," Castiel murmured, gently tracing his hands up Dean's arms, making the boy shiver and his eyes flutter to half mast for a second, before the vampire's hands were at the cuffs, undoing them and rubbing at Dean's sore wrists. "I didn't want you to hurt them inadvertently before you could feed." He turned Dean's hands over in his own, kneeling up between Dean's legs and the Incubus blushed when he began to realize just where Castiel was, but he found that other than initial embarrassment, he didn't seem to mind, because it was Castiel, who had helped him. Saved him. "You seem to be healing them though." Blue eyes flashed to beautiful green. "We will have to feed you again soon."
Dean bit his lip, and he knew he was blushing harder, but that didn't stop him rolling his hips again, arching his back and wiggling so that he was just a little more in Castiel's lap. "Why wait?" he asked shyly, the blood in his mouth settling, sweet and sticky, and coating the back of his throat, soothing the fire. He swallowed back the molasses feeling, his body tense and shaking but still so temptingly spread out for Castiel, who licked his lips, his eyes darkening further as he took in the gorgeous stretch of Dean's body. The boy hadn't changed except for the three dark lines stitched into his side. Castiel frowned just a little, his eyes clouding with anger as he spread his palm over the dark, offending wounds.
"You were very badly wounded, Dean," he murmured softly, meeting the boy's guilty but needy eyes. "Why didn't you get help?"
"Can we not talk about this?" Dean asked, desperate but resigned like he knew Castiel wouldn't let him get away that easily. He tried to sit up, bracing himself on his hands and then hissed when pain lanced up his wrists and fingers, falling back onto the bed. He held his hands up in front of him, making them shake, and his fingers were curled in and he couldn't stretch them out all the way. His fingers were criss-crossed with tiny cuts and scars, already scabbing over for the most part. Dean could suddenly see where the blood was coming from, and his wrists were rubbed raw from the handcuffs. He swallowed, remembering how he'd managed to get the wounds, how he'd torn his hands apart, clawing at trees for balance and falling on sharp bracken and tearing into animals to drain them dry. He bit his lower lip and Castiel's breath hitched just a little.
The vampire couldn't help it – there was just a combination of Dean and blood that got to him. Perhaps it was just that the boy was what he was – Dean was designed and evolved to appeal to the creature he was trying to seduce. It was definitely working.
Then, Dean suddenly winced, rubbing at his throat again. His stitches stood out starkly, black thread against pale, un-tanned skin. Castiel swallowed and leaned down, brushing his nose along Dean's. The boy's breath was getting harder, his lips parted and he panted against Castiel's open lips, lust-silver meeting lust-black, half-lidded, needy eyes meeting blue fire.
"Are you thirsty again, baby?" Castiel whispered, his voice lowering at least an octave more than it usually did and Dean whined, arching his body up to run along Castiel's, his recently-freed hands grabbing onto the vampire's lithe, strong body. Castiel smiled and rocked his hips against Dean's, the vampire's hard cock riding the line of where thigh met hip, deliberately missing Dean's own stirring need. "Want me to feed you some more?"
"Please," Dean begged, running a hand through Castiel's hair and knotting his fingers through the thick dark locks, tugging just slightly. "Please, Cas, so hungry…" He whispered the needy, desperate words, lifting his head to brush his lips against Castiel's and brand the pleas into the rough, stubble-lined jaw of his Alpha vampire's. "Need you so bad, please…"
"It's okay, baby," Castiel replied, brushing a hand down the side of Dean's face and he smiled, drawing the boy up to a sweet, lazy kiss that promised so much more. Castiel's hand cradled Dean's head gently, holding them together as the vampire suckled on Dean's lower lip, drawing the flush, full thing into his mouth and biting down to make it even redder, drawing blood to the surface in a little masochistic tease. "Don't I always take care of you?"
You do, Dean thought in a broken whine, feeling tears of desperation building up behind his eyes and he closed his eyes to try and hide them, wanting Castiel inside him as in yesterday. Dear God, you do. Cas, please…He didn't say any of it but the Alpha vampire seemed to be able to taste his anxiety, feel how his body trembled against Castiel's hold and the vampire shifted slightly, able to taste blood in his boy's mouth, and he pressed a finger against Dean's hole, not pushing inside, not yet. Dean whined, his hips rolling again, trying to fuck himself onto Castiel's finger, to no avail.
"Please, Cas, please, don't tease me," Dean whined, breaking the kiss to stare up at Castiel with liquid green eyes. "Please don't tease me," he repeated, barely able to get the words out – there wasn't enough air in his tight lungs.
"Has he fucked you, Dean?" Castiel asked, pinning Dean with his gaze (as if the Incubus had any desire to go anywhere else) as he circled Dean's hole, just pressing in, getting a little thrill at how, despite how tight Dean was, he was still trying to relax and let him in, inviting Castiel with a tilt of his hips and a shifting of his legs, letting them lay wider across Castiel's thighs and out, laid open and bare and all Castiel's, his for the taking. The boy whined at the question, his eyes widening. "Answer me," Castiel demanded, his hand at the back of Dean's head tightening just a little, fisting the boy's hair which had grown slightly longer – it was the perfect length to just grab and yank on. Dean purred at the rough handling, his exhales shaky against Castiel's parted, blood- and saliva-slicked lips, his thighs tense and his body shaking. "Has he fucked you?" Castiel repeated, getting impatient now.
Dean swallowed and shook his head, laying gentle, warm hands on Castiel's shoulders. "No," he whispered. "Never like…not like you did."
Castiel frowned. "What does that mean?"
How Dean could still blush after everything, Castiel would never know, but he wasn't going to complain about the innocent rosy stain or the way Dean bit down on his swollen lip, eyelids fluttering for a moment at the sensation when Castiel shifted, unable to stop himself from thrusting once against Dean because the boy just looked too fucking delicious for his own good.
"I mean…not like…fully. He'd suck me off and let me suck him off and we've…well, he's touched, but he wanted to wait until he'd bitten me," Dean gasped out, frowning a little at the remembrance of it because when he thought about it, all he could feel was fire burning in his throat – an insatiable need to be full that Sam would refuse to satisfy, and not through Dean's lack of trying or willingness. No, the wolf just refused to fuck him. Said he was too fragile or something stupid like that.
The vampire 'hmm'ed, then Dean felt two fingers pressing against his bottom lip, and he opened his mouth with a moan, letting Castiel's fingers slide in, because fuck yes, he could get on board with this. He thoroughly sucked Castiel's fingers, trying to get them as wet as possible, sliding his tongue easily between the two of them and licking at every surface. What he couldn't swallow back trickled out the sides of his mouth and Castiel leaned down to lick the slick away.
"You're a good boy, Dean," Castiel purred, pulling his fingers out and Dean's head tried to follow, his shoulders rising to make himself sit up but, as he was, he had no leverage, and Castiel's weight over his torso held him down. "I know you're a good boy." Dean whimpered when Castiel's first finger breached him with no hesitance, sliding all the way in with one smooth thrust. Dean clenched his eyes shut, biting back his sounds as Castiel bit and licked at his neck, and Dean leaned his head back, giving Castiel all the room he wanted. On Dean's skin Castiel could taste the animal blood and the dirt and the sweat, could smell the Alpha werewolf on him and covered every mark of scent with his own, claiming Dean like he should have done before. Sam obviously wasn't interested enough. "And good boys get rewards." He added a second finger easily; Dean's body stretching to accommodate him because the boy was so eager it was unbelievable. He must be starving.
Dean bucked his hips desperately, fucking himself down onto Castiel's fingers, needing them deeper because oh, fuck. It felt even better than the last time. His hands shook with need, burying themselves in Castiel's hair, trying to invite the vampire to drink from him, or pull him away so Dean could drink, or something. He wasn't even in control – he gave over to his body's instincts because they obviously knew what the fuck he was meant to be doing. Dean was still soft, his hungers making him too miserly with his energy so he wouldn't even get hard until he was well fed again. Still, that didn't mean he wasn't feeling his lust, feeling his own desire for this powerful creature to take him and claim him and dominate him.
"Cas, please, please fuck me, oh God please fuck me – I feel so…so hungry, Castiel, please…" Dean babbled desperately, saying anything and everything that he could think of to say to try and hurry things along, because the infra-red sheen was descending again and that meant he was getting weaker and he was terrified of that. "Please, God, don't need more prep. Need you, Cas, God, fuck me open. Please, need to feel you! Please, Alpha!"
The nickname, Dean would think later, was probably what did it for Castiel. What made him snarl against Dean's throat (but pull himself back before he could bite) and draw his fingers away. Dean let out a needy little whimper, clenching desperately around something that wasn't there anymore. It was what made Castiel sit up and slick up his cock with his own still-leaking blood, and Dean cried out when Castiel took a hold of his hips and started to breach him. It was too tight, so fucking tight, but Castiel figured he wasn't meant to last long the first time. This was about feeding Dean. That was why he was choosing blood – he wasn't sure how it worked but somehow Dean must be able to absorb his food as well as eat it in the conventional way, so the blood was like a little energy reserve until Castiel could give him the big meal.
Well, in hindsight he thought this. In the moment it was just the closest thing he had and he needed to be fucking his boy as in last week.
He plastered himself over Dean's body, breathing into his hair as he fucked into Dean, slowly until he bottomed out. Fuck but Dean was tight, and warm – burning hot. His heartbeat was thundering in his chest and Castiel could hear his pulse racing as Dean groaned brokenly, tears of relief shining in his eyes. He could hear Dean still muttering nonsense into his ear, but amidst it he heard 'Yes' and 'Cas' and 'Thank you'. Dean was thanking him for this and it made Castiel, well, a little angry, to know that the boy had been so desperate for food that he…The Alpha wolf had a lot to answer for, that was for sure.
First thing came first, though; Dean. Dean's needs. Castiel didn't wait for Dean to tell him to start moving because he figured anything he gave the boy would be welcome. He moved a little bit, tilting his head to one side and baring his neck for Dean's questing mouth and he sighed, closing his eyes when he felt Dean's teeth reopen the wound, sucking down Castiel's blood like his single goal in life was to drain Castiel dry. Though Dean could never take too much (not in that sense, anyway) the idea that he might sent a little shiver through Castiel and the Alpha started up a hard pace inside of his boy. Already he could feel his release building and he didn't try to fight it – Dean seemed to be getting stronger; his breath was slowing down from the near-hyperventilation it had been; his heartbeat, though still fast, was less erratic than before; his eyes were no longer silver; his noises not quite as desperate. And underneath Castiel, Dean body began to respond, having the energy to reciprocate now. Castiel knew he wouldn't last long enough to bring Dean pleasure as well and so he slowed down, backing off from that sprint towards the finish line, breathing hard against Dean's neck.
Dean didn't seem to like that – he mewled desperately, digging a hand into Castiel's ass and pulling him into Dean, wrapping his legs around the vampire's waist so Castiel couldn't pull away. The vampire's cock brushed against a spot inside of Dean that made the Incubus' nerves flare up like a fucking firework.
"Don't stop," Dean begged, "please, please don't stop. Fuck me, Cas, ride me. Come on – need to feel you inside me, filling me up and marking me. Need you…so hungry, Cas, please…"
And who was Castiel to deny that when he asked so prettily? Castiel pet a hand through Dean's hair, over his ear and down the side of his face, placing a light, affectionate nip to the sensitive skin just under his ear, and began to thrust harder now, in earnest. Dean was back to thanking him, his channel tightening deliciously around Castiel's cock, and the vampire couldn't last any longer than that. He thrust into Dean as far as he could get, rasped 'Such a good boy' into Dean's ear, and came, filling Dean up just like the boy was begging him to so nicely.
They were frozen like that for a long moment, suspended, breathless, and then Dean 'hmm'ed in a satisfied way, shifting a little, and his hard cock brushed against Castiel's belly and his ass clenched tightly around Castiel's oversensitive dick. The vampire hissed, pulling out just slightly but Dean wrapped his legs around his waist tightly, smiling a little in contented way up at the Alpha, brushing a hand through his soft hair, and 'hmm'ed again. His chin shone with fresh, wet blood, and when he smiled it was around the edges of his teeth. Castiel felt an irrational urge to lick him clean. He didn't deny it, nuzzling into Dean's mouth like an affectionate puppy and licking around the edges of Dean's gums, over the roof of his mouth, delighting when Dean shivered a little.
"Feel so good, Cas," the boy murmured, rolling his hips again and Castiel whined, grabbing at Dean's ass to try and stop the incessant, glorious clenching of Dean's tight, wetted channel. "Can you go again?"
So soon? Granted, Dean looked better – color was starting to return to his face and his eyes were no longer silver. His cock was half-hard, laying against his belly and he looked thoroughly debauched already. Castiel felt the embarrassing urge to point out that he would probably last an even shorter time than before. He gently rocked into Dean, even that little bit of motion making the boy arch and let out a needy little whine, and he smiled, petting down Dean's chest, his hand resting over the claw mark across his heart.
"In a moment," Castiel promised, smiling widely down at Dean, who lazily returned it. Really, there should be laws against how good Dean looked, with his sun-kissed skin adorably rose-bitten, his brown-blonde hair ruffled every which way and damp, dark from sweat, red standing out stark and pure against his skin and sweat occupying every divot that blood didn't, blending the two things together and swirling them in an intoxicating cocktail on Dean's body. "First, you're going to tell me what you were doing in the middle of the night, bleeding out and close to death."
Dean stiffened, staring up at Castiel with wide eyes for a long moment, biting his lip guiltily, before he pushed himself to a sitting position. Castiel let him go, wincing when it meant he slipped out of Dean with a wet sound, and the boy moved so he was sitting up, his hands in his lap. Castiel didn't miss the way his fingers traced along the edges of his still-healing, stitched-up claw marks. It looked like a wolf had taken a swipe at him.
He remained silent, staring down at the rumpled sheets of Castiel's bed, and the Alpha got tired of waiting for the answer. He took Dean's chin in his hand, following when the boy shied away from the touch, and forced their eyes to meet. "Why were you running away?"
Dean snarled, jerking his head from Castiel's hand and it was a good thing that the vampire had anticipated that otherwise Dean would be talking from a broken jaw. "I wasn't running away," he snarled, seemingly insulted at the very notion, as though it was the most ridiculous thing Castiel had ever suggested. The Alpha just barely managed to restrain himself from rolling his eyes. "I was running…to someone." A flicker downward, another guilty bite of his lip.
"You were running to me, weren't you?" Castiel asked lowly, his voice holding the revelation in it. Dean didn't feel he needed to respond to that. Immediately Castiel leaned forward, his words tailed with a snarl. "Did Sam hurt you? Did he do this to you?" His hand joined Dean's, tracing around the edges of the wound.
Dean shied away. "No! I mean, yes, but…but, it was an accident!" he cried out defensively, curling his shoulders in on himself and drawing his legs up to block Castiel out. Every movement of Dean's stirred eddies of scent into Castiel's being – the vampire resisted the urge to lick his lips.
He snorted derisively at Dean's claim. "An accident," he repeated scathingly.
"No need to sound so dismissive," Dean snarled, obviously stronger as time went on, his body absorbing and using Castiel's energy to give him strength. He looked a million times better but still a little gaunt and pale, like he'd not been getting enough sleep. Castiel wondered if that was because of his condition or something else. "He just…surprised me, is all."
"Surprised you?" Castiel repeated again, feeling vaguely like a parrot mimicking words spoken to it.
"Yeah…" Dean blew out a breath, looking at a very interesting wrinkle between his body and Castiel's, either unable or unwilling to meet the Alpha vampire's eyes. "I mean…After you let me go back with Sam, he was acting all…different. More possessive and controlling and stuff. I thought it was a werewolf thing and didn't think much of it, but then I started getting hungry." Dean swallowed, jade eyes flashing up to ocean blue. "Hungry like…like blood made me hungry." He swallowed again, a self-deprecating laugh falling from his lips as he carded a hand through his hair, looking down once more. "I was afraid. Downright terrified, in fact, and I thought that the cure, maybe it hadn't worked, maybe the effects were wearing off and I would have to take that medicine again. I suggested visiting you for answers and Sam got so angry he locked me in a room for three days." Dean's eyes flashed to Castiel's, wary as the Alpha vampire seemed to be growing more furious by the word. "That was a week ago."
"He wouldn't feed you?" Castiel demanded.
"He said it was nothing. All in my head." Dean gestured towards himself, smiling bitterly as he bit his lip again, looking down, and toying with the edge of a wrinkle on the sheets. "When he came back, he was…God, he was really badly hurt. Hunters had gotten at him, apparently, and he was bleeding so much…he came into my room and I didn't know what I could do to help him, and he seemed angry that I didn't know what to do, and he…he did this." Dean gestured to his side. "It was an accident, and he left straight after that. Even now I still don't know what he was after."
Castiel swallowed, the answer settling like bile in his throat, but Dean wasn't done;
"Then I started getting really hungry and the wounds weren't going away like they usually do. They weren't healing up and I was getting weaker by the second, and I was too afraid to sleep in case I never woke up, and eventually I had to leave to get some sugar because usually sugar solves the problem – I thought maybe my blood sugar was low. And then…then, Sam found me in the park and he was saying some…saying some really weird shit." Dean's brow wrinkled, eyes growing stormy as he thought, before they moved to Castiel's. "Said he'd 'fed' from me before, that I'd been fine, and he…Shit, he knew what was going on with me but he wasn't helping. I mean, Bobby was telling him and he was just fucking stalling! I almost died and he was too hung up on the fact that it hadn't happened before?" He was getting agitated now, pressing his hand over the mark on his chest and then pointing away from him, in a vague direction but to symbolize where Sam theoretically was. His expression was twisted into one of hate and betrayal. "I…you're the only one I could think of that had any answers. You said you were a liar but I had to believe that you wouldn't lie about this, because you were talking about it before, when you let me go, and…" He paused, biting his lip. "You help me. You make the ache go away."
The both of them were silent for a very long time, Dean tired from the long explanation, absently rubbing at his throat and wincing, and Castiel near-livid with anger. He'd known that self-righteous pup would fuck up his mate, that eventually Dean's cravings would bring him crawling back, but not like this. Even at his most sadistic, Castiel never wished Dean to die, or to even be at risk of it.
The Alpha took a deep, calming breath, and leaned forward to splay his palm over Dean's shoulder because the touch soothed him. Dean didn't shy away, but he didn't move closer either, not even when Castiel slid even closer, his arms easily wrapping around Dean and his body moving slowly, like Dean was a rodent paralyzed with fear and Castiel was a serpent ready to devour him. Dean's heart began to kick-start as he abruptly remembered that Castiel was powerful and ancient, so much more than Dean had been and was now. The Incubus' breath hitched violently when Castiel curled around him from behind, the vampire crouching on the balls of his feet, his knees and thighs framing Dean's chest, his hands petting through the boy's hair as Dean tried to breathe steady and willed away the feeling that he was about to be eaten alive.
Castiel's fingers turned harsh for a moment, tilting Dean's head back until the vampire could find his lips, and he placed a light kiss to them, nuzzling into Dean's bloodstained mouth. "You still don't know what you are," he murmured, half-awed, half-incredulous, petting through Dean's hair like the boy was some kind of lazy, pampered dog. Dean shivered at the ghost of breath down his neck when Castiel turned his attention that way.
He swallowed, Adam's apple bobbing, and shook his head 'no', unable to quite speak the word. Castiel 'hmm'ed.
"I figured it out after you fed from me that second time, you remember?" he whispered, placing a light kiss along the racing pulse in Dean's neck, smiling against smooth skin as he hands snaked forward, wrapping around Dean from behind. "In one of my brother's books, there was information on creatures like you. It made so much sense, and I couldn't believe I hadn't seen it before."
"What do you mean?" Dean demanded, turning his head, speaking into the corner of Castiel's jaw. "What am I?" He sounded afraid, and Castiel thought that that was good – he should be afraid. A lot of creatures could be out for the blood of such a benign yet powerful creature, if they ever managed to get their hands on Dean.
"Do you know what an Incubus is, Dean?" Castiel asked, blue flashing out of the corner of his eye and Dean shook his head, swallowing as Castiel began to trace his chest, learning the curves and divots of Dean's flesh, eliciting reactions from the tense, trembling boy as he held and caressed Dean, making him shake. "It's a creature that's…kind of like a vampire, I suppose, in the blood drinking sense…and kind of like a siren, and kind of like a witch. The female name is a Succubus. They are creatures of lust and energy – they feed off of and can replace energies taken from other living, or animated, things."
"You feed off energy, Dean…By changing you into a vampire and feeding you as much as I have, I've been inadvertently exacerbating your condition." Dean gasped as he remembered, eyes going wide and unfocused.
"You said you'd made it worse for me," he whispered, not quite making it a question but Castiel took it as one anyway.
"Dead things need more energy to keep them going than live things. When I changed you, and essentially killed you, you needed to feed more and take more and I kept letting you, not knowing, and not understanding. I made you crave more than you'd needed before. I made you crave blood and semen, not just regular food, and it's why you are where you are now."
"You…" Dean cut himself off, wincing, rubbing at his throat in a sign Castiel had come to directly associate with how thirsty Dean was. Seeing the signs, he began to move his hands downwards, teasing along the crease of where Dean's thigh became his hip, under his navel, dragging his nails through the soft, wiry patch of hair that surrounded the base of Dean's hardening cock. The boy whined and arched into the phantom touch. "So you made it worse. But you fixed me. I was better."
"I thought you were," Castiel said, placing a kiss to Dean's temple as he took Dean in hand, forming a loose ring and beginning to pump Dean slowly, tightening on the upstroke, adding a little twist of his wrist at the head. Dean mewled for him. "I thought I'd managed to erase my taint from you. I thought you'd be safe with Sam."
"You won't ever be able to bite him. You won't be able to change him."
"Sam knew," Dean growled, accusatory and shocked, his words muffled behind a clenched jaw and tight lips. Castiel brushed his parted lips along Dean's temple, down his cheek, losing himself in the scent of sweat and sex that permeated Dean's every pore. By God, he could forever be satisfied with Dean's smell. In the metaphorical sense, of course. "Sam knew…"
"He would have had to know," Castiel replied. "I cannot fathom why else he would have resisted you for so long. God knows I wasn't strong enough."
"You don't believe in God," Dean said with a wry little laugh, cut off in a hiss when Castiel brushed his thumb over the slit of his cock, arching into the touch. "Fuck, Cas, please don't tease me." Dean's body was starting to heat up, the silver filter beginning to descend over his eyes. "I…is this what…feeding me?" He seemed to have lost the ability to string together full sentences.
"Shh, Dean, I'll take care of you," Castiel replied, shifting so that he fell backwards, sitting down with his legs extended. He gently manhandled the boy so Dean was kneeling on Castiel's lap, his back to Castiel's chest; legs open and out to either side. He was open and deliciously vulnerable and when Castiel hooked his legs up inside of Dean's and spread them out, he was even more so. Dean, the little slut, loved it, arching into it and eager for his gourmet meal. Castiel removed his fingers from Dean's cock, instead sliding two of them into his still-loose, stretched out hole, able to feel the come he'd left behind in there. "And yes. Every time you have sex, or drink blood, or eat, you will be feeding and sating the thing that makes you different, the thing that makes you stronger and faster and better than humans." He was perfect. Spread out like this, so eager and beautiful and willing, he was perfection. Castiel pushed at Dean's thighs, wanting them to spread more. "Guide me in, baby," he rasped into Dean's ear, and felt a shaking, unsure hand reach down between Dean's legs, grabbing the head of Castiel's cock and Dean quickly placed it against his hole. His hand moved away when Castiel began to thrust in, shooting out behind both him and Castiel so that the two were balanced, Dean's back arching beautifully, his hips rocking down onto the thickness of Castiel's cock, wanting it so much deeper, always deeper, never enough. The angle was perfect, Castiel managed to catch the spot that made Dean's body flare on the first try, the pressure constant and maddening against it, and Dean writhed on Castiel's lap – so much sensation, his body sucking Castiel in greedily, desperate to be fed again, and Dean thought that of all the things to be, an Incubus was far from the shittiest.
"Mm, Cas, you feel so fucking good," he gasped out, head falling back onto Castiel's shoulder as Castiel took Dean's hips in his hands, gently lifting the boy up and fucking him back down. Dean was almost limp, like a living, breathing sex doll for Castiel's pleasure and the vampire would be lying if he said that it didn't send a dirty little thrill shooting up his spine.
But a liar is one of the things that Castiel is.
Castiel growled into Dean's ear, relishing the little gasp-shudder-arch that his boy gifted him with at the raw, animal-like sound. "You're so beautiful, Dean. Fuck, do you even know?" He snarled again, tossing his head and biting down on Dean's neck, feeling safer now that Dean was actually strong enough to get hard and reciprocate. Dean's eyes fluttered closed, his throat working as he swallowed and he tilted his head away from Castiel's mouth, baring his throat for the vampire's piercing teeth and questing tongue. "From the very first second I saw you, I knew I had to have you, and you were just so pretty." Castiel groaned again, his hands tightening. "I'm amazed that you want me, that you trust me enough for this."
Dean swallowed again, forcing his eyes open and he reached back, putting a hand over Castiel's because even with the low, rough, drawled-out voice whispering and hissing in his ear, making pleasured shivers arc up and down his spine, the sentiment couldn't be hidden below the decadent lust and carnal desire. Castiel was thanking Dean for his trust, for his willingness and the boy was eager to show that Castiel wasn't just a fix. Castiel was truth where Sam had been deceit, straight-up shooting against underhanded moves. Dean swallowed with guilt, remembering when he'd been here, in this very place, six months ago under Sam's orders. Sam's scheming, devious orders and he choked on a sob, feeling tears build up behind his lids. He blinked them away before they could fall.
"Thank you for helping me, Cas," was all he whispered in reply, shuddering when Castiel's hand returned to his aching cock, flushed and red with need, and Castiel ran just the pad of his thumb up the underside, teasing Dean with the not-enough contact, and Dean bucked, forcing more motion than what the limited thrusts Castiel could give him were doing. He hissed when he could feel Castiel inside of him, clenching as the vampire's hand brought him pleasure, fed him even as he was satisfying another appetite of Dean's. The boy could feel his release fast approaching, coiling up in his gut like a tense wire, ready to snap.
Castiel's hips slammed up into Dean, going as far as he could in that position, and Dean shuddered, feeling Castiel's cock pressing mercilessly against his prostate, the vampire's hand agonizingly tight around his cock, and Castiel chose that moment to bite into the skin of Dean's neck, severing flesh to reach the artery, and Dean was gone. Castiel trembled with him as they both rode out their orgasms, Castiel only giving tiny little rocking motions with his hips, unable to move much because of the angle and the suffocating tightness that was Dean coming. The boy felt like nirvana around him, so deliciously perfect.
When Castiel's hands moved back to Dean's waist, having been pushed away when Dean whined, complaining about his oversensitive cock, the Alpha vampire found that Dean's claw marks were healing over nicely. The Incubus was getting even stronger.
He made to move Dean, to pull out of him, but Dean made a disappointed, desperate kind of sound and clutched at Castiel's thighs. "Can I…can I stay?" he asked shyly, turning his head to look at Castiel in the eye when the sated Alpha pulled away, licking his lips of Dean's siren blood.
Perhaps Castiel was reading too much into it, but it seemed like a loaded question. Instead of answering, he stroked his hand down Dean's side, eliciting a tiny shiver. He wrapped his arms around Dean's waist, pulling him closer and rested his chin on Dean's shoulder, just enjoying the quiet companionship for a while. Dean entertained himself in the silence by scooping up the come on his stomach and Castiel's hand, licking it off his fingers like a horse at a salt lick. Castiel only watched, engrossed in the long sweeps of his tongue and how it curled over his fingers, almost delicately despite how decadent the food was.
"Your mate will be here soon, looking for you," Castiel murmured after a good ten minutes of watching Dean lick every available bit of come from his fingers, the Incubus smiling lazy and contented and…happy. Castiel's hands tightened just mentioning Sam and Dean flinched a little at the suddenly restricting hold, and turned wide, knowing eyes on Castiel.
"Are you going to let me go again?" he whispered, and it was the way he was saying it…like he didn't want to leave. As though he was reading Castiel's mind he continued; "I don't want to…I don't want to go back to him. He lies. I mean, you both do but you at least have the common decency to tell me. He…" Dean cut himself off, biting his lip.
Castiel smiled a little, running his hand up Dean's chest so it covered over Sam's mark, the slash right over his heart. "Sweetheart, if you're looking for a mate that won't lie to you or scheme to get ahead, then perhaps you should go looking for the dead, because they have no ambition."
"You're dead. Technically," Dean argued with a slightly sardonic smile, playful, and Castiel just placed a light kiss on Dean's shoulder. The boy sighed and carded his sticky hand through his hair. "At least you seem to know what the fuck you're doing."
"I'm outraged that Sam wasn't taking care of you properly, Dean. That he wouldn't feed you his body or his blood." Castiel made a disgusted sound. "Typical arrogant dog."
"You two knew each other," Dean whispered, looking down and finally detaching himself from Castiel, letting the vampire's spent cock slide from him as he sat down, instead sitting between Castiel's legs, still leaning back against the Alpha's chest. "You've long been enemies."
Castiel nodded.
"You're not going to tell me how, though, are you?"
Castiel shook his head.
Dean sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose and he made a distressed, pained noise, his shoulders curling to try and defend himself as he rested his knees on his folded legs, holding his head in his hands. "Fuck, this is all so fucking weird," he confessed. "I mean…fuck, I'm twenty fucking years old. You'd think I'd notice something like blood cravings!"
"I have a theory about that," Castiel commented, rubbing a hand up and down his boy's spine. "I believe that, because you were never exposed to the temptation, you laid dormant until I came along and triggered your more primal needs. The others I've talked to, they all knew what they were because they were born into it. Maybe it's just as simple as that – you don't notice because nothing ever triggered it, and then I forced it to become active, whatever it is that makes you not human."
Dean took in a shaky breath. Castiel could smell the saline in the air. He pulled Dean closer. "If you don't want to return to Sam then he can't make you. I'd like to see him try." Dean turned, leaning into Castiel's embrace, nuzzling into the vampire's neck with a shaky little inhale. "Are you thirsty again?" Already?
Dean chuckled. "I can't help it, Alpha," he said in a low, sultry voice; "You taste so damn good."
Sam's cell phone went off when he was a mile from Castiel's house. The werewolf didn't even greet the vampire with words – just a snarl.
"I have your mate," Castiel stated, as though it wasn't obvious. As though the scent of Dean's blood wasn't overwhelming even from this far away. "Sam…what were you thinking? What could have possibly possessed you to try and feed from him without his knowledge? How long did you think you'd manage to keep that up until he found out? Hmm?"
"Don't try and tell me how to run my pack or keep my mate, mosquito," Sam bit back.
"That's just the thing," Castiel replied, none of his usual sarcasm coming to the surface. He sounded dead serious. The vampire pet through Dean's hair where the boy laid next to him, fucked out and thoroughly sated, sleeping off one hell of a 'food' coma. "You're not keeping him. He doesn't want to return to you."
Sam stopped in his tracks. "What?" he demanded.
"He doesn't want to see you. He's afraid of you now – afraid of everything, to be honest. He's damaged and I had to feed him several times before he stopped gasping like he was going to die. You committed a horrific crime and he almost died because of it."
"I broke no law," Sam snarled.
"…Sam." That was it. That one word. The Alpha werewolf swallowed, his hatred growing for that creature in an instant. "Dean told me about the planned attack on my Coven. That, Sam, is a slight against our laws. You know this, Sam – you were there when we made them."
"…What about you?" the wolf snapped defensively. "You're planning an army. I know you are – you'll wipe us all out and break all the laws."
Castiel was smiling – Sam could hear it in his voice. "Are you sure about that?" he asked with fake innocence. "You see, Sam, when planning a full-scale attack on a species, you should be smarter than just a recon. There's no time for recon in our world – not when dealing with things such as ourselves. Lesson…what lesson does this make? Seventy-four? Take out the higher-ups first."
Gabriel's eyes widened as he began to search frantically through the tomes on Incubi, which he'd been researching and combing through for the past six months, learning everything and anything he could on the creatures. "No," he gasped to no one in particular, flicking through the pages frantically. "No…no, no freaking way."
Castiel could feel his child's distress, his Second's excitement. He looked over at Dean who was still slumbering peacefully, and pet through his hair, placing a light kiss to his temple before he slipped out of the rumpled, downy-heated bed sheets, dressing hurriedly and running to his brother's side.
"Gabriel, my brother, what is it?" he asked, taking Gabriel's face in his hands and tilting his face up so their eyes could meet.
Gabriel's expression was a mix of shock, disbelief, and amazement. He gripped Castiel's wrists, his smile almost feral like it got before he was about to kill someone, eyes flashing brightly. "He's Dean," he said, still grinning like a madman. Castiel barely resisted the urge to roll his eyes.
"Yes, Gabriel, that's his name," Castiel replied calmly, wondering why Gabriel suddenly felt the need to point out such an obvious thing. He frowned a little, a furrow in his brow as he began to feel around his brother's head, suddenly struck with the strange thought that maybe Gabriel had hit his head somewhere.
The Second snorted, shaking his head and finally withdrawing from Castiel's hold. "No, no you don't understand," he muttered, going back over to his desk. On it were three books, all opened to various places and weighed down so they stayed open with other books. He took a hold of Castiel's hand, lacing their fingers together and dragged him to stand slightly behind Gabriel, reading over the shorter man's shoulder as Gabriel's fingers traced along the neat black writing, trying to find the right passage. "Do you know what happens when an Incubus takes a permanent mate, Alpha?"
Castiel shook his head. "No, I do not."
"I've been spending time with the creatures, until we let them go – been asking and researching. In their house was a bunch of books on their species." He gestured to the desk. "These are from there." Castiel nodded his understanding. "Anyway, when they take a mate, they become…sort of…tied together in their immortality. As in, as long as one of them still lives, the other will be able to come back. Like a weird insurance policy on reincarnation."
Gabriel turned around, the two vampires' faces brushing together, forehead to cheek, until Castiel stepped back and allowed Gabriel to have some room. The Second leaned against his desk, bracing his hands on either side of his hips and looked up to Castiel. "If they both die at the same time, neither of them will come back, because there are no ties to follow."
"I still don't understand what you're saying," Castiel replied, growling.
Gabriel rolled his eyes, biting his lip and making a frustrated sound as he tried to think of the best way to explain what he was trying to say. "I know you don't remember him, but I do," Gabriel whispered, looking away for a moment, back to a time that had long ago past. Castiel swallowed back his impatience because if this was about Dean, he wanted to know. Still, Gabriel would always get to his point eventually – Castiel just had to wait because his brother was sometimes capable of great patterns of thought and leaps of logic, often at the same time. He was a genius in his own right and Castiel respected that. Gabriel's eyes flashed back to his Alpha's. "I remember his eyes. Do you remember his eyes?"
"Who are we talking about?" Castiel growled in frustration.
Gabriel swallowed, looking away again. "When you were human. I know you don't remember, but I do. I do because I was still human before you started to lose the memories of it. I remember…I remember him, because you were so grieved that you went mad, you blocked it out, pretended like he'd never existed." Gabriel swallowed again when Castiel's upper lip curled back, because he didn't like to be reminded of the first few years of his second existence – they had been long and painful and they were very fuzzy for him.' I remember you telling me of the time the two of you got caught one day kissing in the trees and you were almost killed because it was wrong and a sin." The vampire swallowed, his heart giving a low thump as he remembered the distress he'd felt when he'd learned that his baby brother had almost been killed for having relations with another man. Castiel had only been beaten very badly and left in the church to atone for his sins. The other boy had been sent away to the farm country. "I remember how much you cried. You told me…you told me it was like you were missing a piece of your soul, do you remember?"
Castiel swallowed, taking a step back so he was leaning against the wall. He did remember, very vaguely. The flash of green eyes in the summer sun, hair bleached blonde by so much time outside, strong muscles working the hunt and a gorgeous, full-lipped smile. He sucked in a breath. "I remember him," he said slowly, unsure because he didn't quite. It had been a very long time ago. Back when Castiel was still human, still young even by those years.
Castiel had never cried so hard in his life when the boy had been taken away, claimed to be evil and wrong and against normal society. He had always thought the boy had died.
"But he found you again," Gabriel continued in a whisper, both of the vampires stone still except for their moving mouths and wide eyes. "Right before you began to change, before you became what you are, he found you. I know you didn't think I knew that, but I heard you. I heard him whisper about forever and then there was this bright light…" Gabriel winced at the memory, because it still gave him a headache, even now, to think about it.
"I remember," Castiel repeated. Those were the only words he seemed to be able to get out.
"And then…a week after that, you were a vampire. You were…you were immortal, unbreakable, unchangeable, and he was there, with you through it. I remember because when you changed me I could still smell his scent on you. But then he was gone. We were attacked for being wrong and I can remember him dying because I felt it when you grieved."
Castiel swallowed, finally looking away from his brother's eyes because they held so many things that Castiel had managed to forget. "Why are you picking at my old wounds, Gabriel?" he demanded in a harsh growl, because he didn't want to think about this.
"What if…what if an Incubus' mate was technically already dead, but there was still a line to follow? I thought maybe…maybe you were projecting, because all those children that you've brought to your bed, human and vampire alike, they were all…they all looked the same. And then that one woman you almost mated with. She…God, she even smelled like him. What if, instead of coming back and following you, he got lost a little? What if the process messed him up and he kept coming back as the wrong person? Would he eventually manage to come back as the right person but at the wrong time? Or, maybe, without any memories?"
Gabriel's voice had lowered, gotten thick with meaning, and Castiel's head snapped up so he could meet his brother's eyes, his own narrowed and stormy. "That wouldn't be possible. I'd recognize him."
"That mark that he left," Gabriel insisted, straightening, getting excited now, his speech speeding up and his heart beating a little faster, "he left it on your neck. He bit you, but when you transformed everything was healed over again. It was gone because the mark on your soul that he'd left behind to find you again was gone. He was lost and confused and he could have been anyone, anywhere. You're drawn to each other because he's meant to draw you in, and you are meant to call to him as well."
"No…" Castiel shook his head, moving away from the wall, back towards Gabriel's door, because he couldn't deal with this, not right now. "No, what you're suggesting is impossible." But he couldn't leave – anger was flaring up inside of him and he whirled on his brother, lips curled back in a snarl. "You can't do things like this, Gabriel! You can't just…He would have told me." The vampire seemed to deflate, then, his shoulders slumping, his eyes losing their fire. "He would have told me to wait for him."
"You changed, Cas," Gabriel whispered, stepping around the desk, towards his brother but Castiel backed away from him, still tense like a wounded animal and Gabriel stopped. "He thought he would have been able to find you again. It would be like he never died. But you changed and he got lost. He's Dean, Cas. Dean is your mate."
"He's Sam's mate," Castiel snarled, eyes flashing again.
Gabriel shook his head. "No. He holds your claim on his soul. Try looking for it instead of just fucking him into the mattress. Before his 'mate' comes to claim him."
When Castiel returned to his quarters, Dean was up, sitting on the top of the curving stairs, the guitar that Castiel had never gotten round to moving in his hands. He was tuning the strings, head cocked to one side as he listened to them and made them perfect again, then stroked down the strings gently, shushing the guitar as though it was an old friend that he was trying to learn again. His eyes were heavy-lidded and his hair was adorably sleep-mussed, his clothes thrown haphazardly on from where he'd managed to find them at the bottom end of Castiel's bed. They were still stained with his blood – Castiel would have Gabriel go get him some cleaner ones because it wouldn't do to get the cuts infected and have Dean get sick again. He looked better, though – there were dark circles under his eyes but they weren't as pronounced as before and his skin looked healthy, back to its exotic sun-kissed glow. Castiel just had to stop, looking at the beauty with new eyes. He was trying to remember, trying to force his brain to give him the memories he'd lost – a name, a voice, something to trigger Castiel's memory because he had to know. Because if this idiotic theory was true then it would make Castiel the happiest man alive. Even without remembering who his mate actually was, Castiel could remember the heartbreak of when he'd died and the sorrow when he'd been taken away. He remembered loving that nameless, featureless man for a lot of his life. But it had been a very long time ago.
Dean flashed him a lazy, sleep-contented smile when he looked up from tuning the guitar, strumming a G chord and then adjusting the B string because he'd made it a little too sharp. "You kept this," he murmured, picking out a slow riff that Castiel didn't recognize, his leg extending in front of him onto a step further down, letting the guitar rest on his thigh and balance out. With the way he held himself over the guitar, protecting it while at the same time having it protect him, Castiel was reminded of when he'd first laid eyes on Dean, how he'd sat, the carefree happiness, and it made him smile to see the same kind of posture and expression on Dean's face now.
He'd make a good mate.
Castiel approached until he was at the bottom of the stairs, gripping the polished wood a little more tightly than necessary. "I never got around to giving it back to you," he replied, eyes flashing to the green-and-black instrument, brought to life so easily under Dean's hands. Castiel fancied he could see the energy Dean was giving to it, wondered if the reason why Dean could make it sing so well for him was because he was putting himself into the guitar, literally giving it life. "And I…I liked having it around. As something to remember you by, I guess, though I don't play myself."
Dean smiled. His fingers were still slightly sore but that just meant he pressed a little more lightly to the strings, tinkling out bright and happy trills and riffs, fingers dancing up and down the neck. Castiel watched as the seemingly random snatches of tune began to form together, Dean starting to make them into a song. Not once did the Incubus' eyes move from Castiel's.
"Why doesn't your blood change me anymore?" Dean asked after a long while, snapping Castiel out of the hypnotized reverie he'd managed to fall into. The vampire blinked, straightening himself, and bit his lip in thought. Dean's eyes followed the action.
"I don't know," he replied honestly. "I think it's just because you had that cure before. Maybe it's a lasting treatment, like when antibodies stick around when you've had a disease. That's essentially what become a vampire is like – getting a disease."
"One hell of a disease," Dean muttered with a small smirk, and Castiel winced because he recognized that light, sardonic smile. He recognized it on more than one person. Dean's hands slowed to a stop on the guitar, his palm muting the strings. "Something's on your mind." It wasn't a question.
"Am I that obvious?" Castiel replied.
Dean cocked his head to one side. "No," he said after a moment, eyes narrowed and appraising. "No, but I feel as though I know anyway." Castiel's breath caught, his eyes widened. Had Dean always been saying stuff like that? Or had Castiel just never held the weight of it before? "Is there anything I can do to help?" the boy asked, setting the guitar to one side.
Yes, Castiel thought immediately, and the vampire slowly began to ascend the stairs, holding himself back as much as he could because even after everything, Dean was still a little skittish around him. At least, until he figured out what Castiel wanted of him. It might be something that Castiel never managed to train out of him. The vampire wouldn't know.
"I want you to make yourself comfortable, Dean," Castiel said softly, brushing a hand along Dean's cheek when he came to the top of the stairs. Dean looked up and leaned into the touch, his eyes getting dark. "There's something I need to confirm." Castiel smiled at Dean's expression. "Later," he promised, knotting his hand in Dean's soft hair and giving a light tug before he moved over to the bedroom. Dean followed along behind, eager and curious, and stopped when Castiel gestured for him to get on the bed. He crawled onto it, sitting in the middle because Castiel wasn't giving off (many) pheromones and the man's voice didn't ooze sex like it normally did when he was in the mood. And Castiel had said 'Later' – Dean assumed that meant there was something to come before the later. After all, there's always a 'Now'.
Castiel frowned as he tried to remember. He remembered a…a pulse. Slowly he crawled forward, kneeling in front of Dean, and dark green eyes watched him as he cautiously leaned forward, brushing his hand along the line of Dean's tendon in his throat. The boy bit his lip but didn't move otherwise. No…no that wasn't right. Castiel's hand flattened out against Dean's neck and the boy swallowed, getting a little nervous and Castiel's eyes weren't on his face anymore – they were staring at his chest, like he was seeing deeper than clothing and skin, like he could. Dean's heart began to beat a little faster.
"Take off the shirt," Castiel demanded softly, his hand moving to touch Dean's collarbone. He only moved his hand away so that Dean could rip his shirt over his head, and Castiel was touching bare skin again. Bare, warm, golden (but lighter, whiter) skin that thrummed with heat and the rhythm of Dean's pulse. Something was there…the light and heat of Dean's soul. Castiel could feel it but he didn't recognize it – it wasn't reaching out to greet him like Gabriel said it would. Castiel swallowed, determined to follow this through and not chicken out. He shifted closer to Dean so that the two were inches apart, Dean looking up at him through thick black lashes and wide, innocent eyes. He was trembling very slightly. Or that might have been Castiel.
"Why is one liar better than the other?" Castiel asked, not sure where the question came from, as he lightly dragged his fingertips across Dean's heart, down his chest, resting on the slash mark left behind by Sam. Apparently vampire venom doesn't erase a werewolf claw. "Why are you comfortable with me and not with him?"
Dean took a shaky breath, his skin breaking out into goose bumps, his nipples turned into hard little nubs and Castiel flicked one with his thumb, gently, making Dean hiss. He moved his hand up again to Dean's neck, because he had been closer there. Dean's shaky exhale ghosted across his lips and Castiel licked them, his mouth gone dry.
"Sam just…feels wrong," Dean confessed. "He's not…" You. The sentence was finished without Dean having to say it, and something…flared inside of the boy. Castiel gasped, his eyes widening, his hand moving across Dean's neck, along the downward slope of his shoulder, and stopped when he reached Dean's arm, gripping his bicep. He'd gone too far – he'd lost it.
"Keep talking," Castiel demanded.
"I feel like I should recognize you," Dean confessed, looking away from Castiel even though the vampire's eyes weren't on his face – they were focused somewhere around his heart. "When you…when you touch me, I feel it for hours afterwards. You changed me, like you said – your blood was in my veins. I felt drawn to you, even before that. I was afraid of what I was feeling. Sam's never made me feel that way before. I feel like we've met…before Sam. Before everything."
Castiel felt like he could cry. He saw it. His mark. Burned into Dean's shoulder even though this body didn't bear it. The vampire's palm began to heat up and Dean shifted, alarmed by what was happening. His skin began to glow, his eyes turning silver.
"What's happening?" he asked, panicked, trying to move away from the burning touch but Castiel's other arm came around him and trapped him close.
"You found me," he whispered into Dean's soft hair, and the world went white.
Phantom touches down his spine. Castiel can feel them. He shivers, unused to this kind of sensation, unable to handle being held so close, especially by another boy, a male. It's wrong, it's a sin, but it feels so good, so painfully good. The bark of an old oak tree is rough against his skin when the boy pins him there, laves at the racing pulse in his neck. He's burning up – he feels flushed and needy and so ready, as in yesterday. He grips at Dean's sparse clothing, mewling into his lover's neck, begging with needy touches and eager bucks of his hips. He wants Dean, so badly.
He knows what Dean is. Dean knows it too. They're ready.
But his father comes before Dean can mark him. The Incubus is torn away from his young lover and Castiel cries out, falling to his knees, before strong hands haul him up again. He's knocked unconscious and when he wakes up a day later, he's on the cold marble altar of a church, locked there for three days for his sins and given penance every day, fed nothing and seeing even less of daylight. When he emerges, his eyes hurt at the bright sunlight, he no longer eats as much food, and Dean is long gone.
They find each other again when Castiel passes nineteen. It's such a young age. Castiel's mother has just died and his legitimate father has run off, leaving Castiel with the man who hates him more than anyone. Castiel is a stain on the household, inviting demons inside and when Castiel turns twenty he runs away, trying to make it on his own in the country. Dean finds him that very day, shriveled and near death underneath another oak, shivering and soaked. The Incubus gives him energy, whispers words of love and devotion and 'Forever' into his ear, and then he takes Castiel to the family he was always meant to have – a family full of love and laughter with his absent father and several half-brothers by that man. Gabriel is one of them and he cares for Castiel despite how long they've been apart, not knowing about each other, despite the reminder to themselves that their dad is a dead-beat and their mothers are dead. They live together and grow and Dean watches and lives off of stolen moments with Castiel when the moon is gone and no one's watching.
Castiel is almost thirty by the time neither of them can wait anymore. Castiel doesn't want to leave Gabriel behind but really, this just means that he never will. Dean and he can blend, move away, escape to another place because what they have, what they are is a sin and they're going to hell, but Dean will never die and after this night, neither will Castiel. Not unless they both want to.
They're in Castiel's room because the night is stormy outside and Dean won't risk his lover's, his mate's, health. He lets Castiel rock into him, between his spread legs, crying out softly into Castiel's open, panting mouth about forever and love and how nothing will come between them now. His palm is heating up again, his eyes flaring brightly and when Castiel finally marks him, burning a handprint into his shoulder, clutching tightly like he's going to die if he doesn't, Dean bites him. It's a link they both will follow until the end, Castiel will drag Dean from death and Dean will coax Castiel into this world again. They will never be apart from each other.
Dean stays with Castiel after that. Castiel and Gabriel were the youngest of the brothers and the rest had moved on they manage other things and build other lives. Dean lurks in the background but Gabriel can see the bite on his brother's neck and he doesn't ask about it, doesn't call Castiel's bluff when the man says he was injured by one of the dogs during a play-fight. Dean finds the excuse funny. But others are muttering about it, because some of them have learned things, seen signs of things. They notice that in all the time Dean's lived there, he's hardly aged a day. They notice things like stolen smiles between the mates, how their eyes light up with love and how they always reach for each other, pulling back a second too late because they remember that they're in public.
They watch as Castiel begins to change, how he'll eye people like they're food. A young vampire, the only vampire, until Gabriel starts acting the same way, and he gets a bite on him too.
They're a sin. Monsters, demons, creatures of the night that are not welcome.
Dean dies that day. Castiel feels it in his very soul. His grief drives him mad. He kills everyone in that neighboring village and buries Dean's body out beneath a giant old oak tree. He moves on with Gabriel and doesn't see when Dean crawls out of the grave, because Dean never told him.
The two came back to themselves with breathless gasps. There was blood around Dean's mouth and Castiel realized it was because the boy had bitten him during all of that. There was sweat between their bodies and when Castiel peeled his sticky hand away, there was a red, angry-looking handprint on Dean's shoulder. It was covered in melted flesh like Castiel had burned it right into him and the vampire gasped, remembering, remembered grabbing that very mark so long ago when he'd held Dean in his arms as he died, remembered trying to search for him, trying to pull him back and being unable to find him. He didn't have a soul to chase Dean with.
Dean's breath ghosted along Castiel's racing, hammering pulse, and his shoulders were shaking, and Castiel took a moment to realize he was crying. "Castiel." It was all he said, that one word, but it held millennia of longing and love, of sadness and fear and relief, so much relief, palpable in the way Dean clung to Castiel like he was going to fall apart. "Castiel."
"I'm here, Dean, I'm here," Castiel soothed, petting through his boys' – his mate's – soft hair, holding Dean as close as he could, as close as he dared, cradling the creature while Dean sobbed. Castiel couldn't imagine it – it seemed like the burden of a thousand lifetimes was crashing into Dean at once, crushing him with their weight. "Shh, baby. I'm right here."
They stayed like that for an immeasurable amount of time – it was one of those scenes that stretched on forever and then was over way too soon. Dean shifted, wiping at his eyes but still kept his forehead pressed to the soaked, salt-crusted skin of Castiel's neck. "Why didn't you wait for me?" he asked, voice sounding small and accusatory.
Castiel swallowed. "You never told me. I thought you were dead." His fingernails dug into Dean's spine, hitching him closer, making the Incubus hiss and arch to avoid the painful touch. "I thought you weren't coming back, that you had gone to a place I couldn't follow. You could die. I couldn't."
Dean shook his head but didn't argue – he remembered now. He hadn't told Castiel. He hadn't thought he'd ever need to – he thought they would be safe together, would die together. Dean smiled, his expression so much older now on his young, new face, and he cupped Castiel's jaw, closing his eyes and pressing his forehead to Castiel's lips, just holding him like that. "I finally found you," he whispered brokenly, and the vampire's eyes closed. He bowed his head and hunched his shoulders, cradling Dean in the protection of his arms. Nothing would ever harm him now, not when Castiel finally had him back. The first tears did fall, then, stinging at Castiel's eyes because it had been a long, long time since he'd cried. The tears felt cold, sliding down his cheeks, dropping off his face and into Dean's hair and the Incubus just pet him through it, his eyes closed, his heart slowing, sighing happily. His shoulder ached and Castiel's neck burned, but they were together again. It had taken far too long – Dean had never died so many times in his life – but he did it.
"You're such a liar," he finally said after a long time, smirking around the edges when Castiel pulled away, tear-streaked face meeting tear-streaked face. Castiel cocked his head to one side, his own wry smile quirking at his mouth.
"Why do you say that?" he asked, brushing a thumb over Dean's cheek, unable to believe that this was Dean. He felt like he could kiss Gabriel for finding that out, for figuring that out, otherwise Castiel would have never known – it would have been one of many links in a chain cycle.
Dean's smile grew. "You weren't there when Jesus died. You were with my seventh body, in France." Castiel's eyes widened, thinking of Chastity, of the woman he had almost claimed as a mate before things had gone wrong.
"That was you?" he asked incredulously.
Those green eyes brightened, Dean's smile grew even more, and he leaned up for a tender kiss that tasted of salt and reunion, and Castiel's arms tightened. He was never letting Dean go again. Not without one hell of a fight.
Sam's wolves had Castiel's house surrounded within the hour. Dean and Castiel stood, flanked by whatever meager forces they'd managed to dredge up. There weren't many – Castiel's family had taken that brutal hit from Sam's own pack and the Alpha vampire just hadn't had occasion to change and train any more. There were two dozen against a hundred wolves.
Dean's eyes flashed to Castiel's face, the Incubus swallowing, and Castiel could hear him, even though Dean didn't say a word;
Don't let me go again.
Castiel looked over to his mate, his lips quirking up in the semblance of a smile, his eyes full of love, and Dean relaxed, secure in his mate's affection for him. He couldn't help it – he'd tried to reach Castiel so many times but hadn't had the chance, and it had been a long time, for both of them. Dean still couldn't believe he'd managed to erase his entire memory when creating himself in this new body. It was only slightly different from his original one – the one he had met Castiel in for the first time. It was more built, had had less time in the sun, and he'd taught it to play music. Castiel had always loved music. It enthralled him.
Sam was snarling, full of barely contained rage, able to see the print on Dean's shoulder, the bite on the Alpha vampire's neck that, unlike the others, would never go away; the mark of dominion and love and an irrevocable claim in their world. Till Death Do Us Part, and then some.
"You had no right," Sam growled, pointing accusingly at Castiel, stepping into the No Man's Land between the two sides. "No fucking right to lay your mark on him! He's mine!"
"No," Castiel replied, meeting Sam stride for stride until the creatures were toe to toe, Sam's obvious height and bulk an equal match for the fire blazing in the vampire's eyes. "He was mine first. Mine forever. You were just one in a long line of wrong turns." He could hear Dean swallow guiltily, looking down, because despite how things were now Dean did love the werewolf, had held affection for him, and that didn't just go away. "But he's come home to me now and I'm not letting him go again."
Sam snarled, quivering with rage, just barely contained. He looked ready to rip Castiel limb from limb. The vampires' hearts were starting to beat, seeing their Alpha so close to so dangerous an enemy. Dean could hear the few Incubi that they'd kept around to interrogate start to stir in their cells, able to sense the gathering storm in the air. His own skin tingled with it – he felt like there was a live electric current shooting straight down his spine.
Alpha?
Not yet.
He could hear the words in his head, figured Castiel was communing silently with his kin. Gabriel shifted uneasily next to Dean, having been flanking Castiel's other side, his eyes focused, dark and ominous, on the gathered wolves. They were truly an intimidating force – all bulk and brute strength, snarling mouths and flashing eyes.
"You've broken the laws," Sam accused softly, so softly that Dean had to strain to hear it.
"You broke it," Castiel replied. "You attacked my home and stole my mate away from me. You used my own mate to strike against my people." The vampire's lip curled back and he snarled. "I should execute you right now just for those crimes alone."
"You have no proof."
Castiel raised an eyebrow. "Dean is very forthcoming to people he trusts," he replied smoothly, watching how Sam's eyes darkened and flashed accusingly Dean's way. "And you've just given me all the confirmation I need."
"Fuck the laws!" Sam finally yelled, pushing at Castiel, getting distance between the two Alphas, and within a second Sam was a wolf – a giant, snarling mass of brown-golden fur – and lunged before Castiel could recover from the push, shoving Castiel down. The vampire snarled and landed a hard punch to the side of Sam's face and scurried backwards. Immediately several other vampires surged forward, flanking him with their own bodies, allowing him time to get a grip on himself before he was out of the throng again. Every vampire heard Castiel's order; His blood is mine. No one is to interfere.
Dean understood. Really, he did – Castiel was out for Sam's blood and Sam had been a major thorn in his metaphorical paw for a very long time now, but still, Dean was not going to sit by and watch his mate risk his life for the sake of…what? Territory?
It had been a while for Dean, but with his memories came the experience of how to use his abilities properly. He took a deep breath, his fingers stretching out by his side before he cracked them and stretched them again. Wolves and vampires alike watched his movements, wary and curious, but he didn't move any more than that. He closed his eyes, taking in another deep breath, trying to find Sam's energy amidst the horde. It was hard with so many bodies packed close together, to find one among many, but Sam's was large. He was a glowing ball of amber-yellow light, roving about the room. Without actually moving, Dean reached out, took a handhold of that ball, and tugged, breaking it apart a little. He heard Sam gasp and stumble, and Dean took the energy into himself, let it disperse – his body felt like it had just been hit with an electric shock – and then tried it again. Piece by piece, he was picking at Sam's core until the Alpha werewolf stumbled, fell, and Dean opened his eyes just in time to see Castiel lunge for him, land on his prone form, his mouth at the wolf's neck.
Sam was panting heavily, sweat slicking his coat and making it almost black. Castiel looked only marginally better – Sam had managed to catch him across the chest and the scent of the Alpha's blood was making the vampires' eyes darken.
Everything was frozen to a standstill – Sam and Castiel were locked together, completely still, each side holding their breath to see what Castiel would do – he had the advantage. Dean had never seen Sam looking more exhausted in his life, and the Incubus himself…well, he felt sick, actually. Taking enough energy from Sam that he had, he actually felt nauseous, and grabbed at his stomach, wincing. It was the only movement in Castiel's foyer and it broke the tension, when Castiel's eyes flashed to him, and then back at Sam.
He stood, moving away from the wolf. Sam's eyes followed him and he changed back into a human, sitting up. "What are you doing?" he snapped, "Finish it!"
"No," Castiel replied, swallowing, stepping back again. "I will not."
His eyes flashed to Dean for a moment and Sam followed his gaze, snorting derisively. "Him?" He shoved himself to his feet, already gaining his energy back and Dean bit his lip, concentrating, ready to take more should he need to even though he was pretty sure he would end up taking too much. "You're going soft, Alpha vampire."
"I've been fighting for too long, Sam," Castiel whispered in reply. "I wasted a very long time fighting – I've wasted almost all my existence fighting, and killing, and I'm getting a little sick of it." Dean's eyes flared open again, and he was a little surprised to find that he'd double over, clutching his stomach, breathing hard through the pain of keeping all of this energy inside himself without a safe outlet. He needed to, like, get injured or something. Anything. "Just leave now before more blood is shed."
"You speak like a coward," Sam replied, growling again and a few of his wolves muttered their assent. "You want peace only because you're on a losing side. Do you -?" Suddenly Sam was on the ground again, Castiel's hand around the wolf's throat. Sam clawed at Castiel's hand but the vampire held firm, his lips thinned out in a line, his eyes blazing.
"Do not presume to know my motives, you filthy, good-for-nothing dog," he snarled, tightening his fist for a moment, cutting off Sam's air. "You come into my house, insult me, kill my Children and try and take my mate again, even after he's been claimed and he has come to realize himself. You are arrogant, Sam. Your species has bred and grown strong and that has made you proud and foolish. I am still the oldest out of the two of us – I still have power and knowledge and experience that you will never begin to fathom for the rest of your years, and Dean…Dean is even older. Do you think you can satisfy or threaten either of us? What gives you the right? What gives you the power to do such a thing?" Castiel snarled, leaning down, his teeth elongating and extending over his usual set, venom dripping down onto Sam's neck and jaw as the wolf whined in distaste, turning his head away. The rest of the werewolves shifted in unease, only held back by Sam's mental command, and Gabriel, too, was ready to fight, ready to lead the rest of the vampires in to protect their Alpha. "I could change you in an instant. I could make you need me, crave me like the rest of them do. I could make you powerless to resist me, make you want to roll over and beg for just a taste of my blood, a second of my affection. You, Sam, will never have that power over me."
He pressed down for a second more, long enough that Sam began to see red spots in front of his vision and the periphery was starting to get black, before Castiel let his throat go, leaving finger-shaped bruises behind, and Sam was left, gasping at the ceiling, as Castiel stood and tracked his way back to his mate. He put a hand on Dean's shoulder and Dean almost sobbed in relief when he saw how tired Castiel was, started feeding him some of Sam's energy through the contact of Castiel's hand against his shoulder, starting reviving his mate while relieving some of the pressure inside himself.
"Now, go and stay gone," Castiel demanded, his eyes hard and his body tense, his tone clearly stating that he would have no problem killing each and every one of the wolves, no matter what the cost. "Make sure that you all never see my face again because if you do, it will be the last thing you see."
Some of the wolves crept cautiously forward, eyeing Castiel warily before they picked Sam up, managing to put him onto his unsteady feet, and supported him on the way out. Gabriel followed, making sure they left and didn't try and find a way around the house through a back entrance. The rest of the able vampires surrounded their Alpha and his mate, protecting them while Dean took time to recover from taking so much energy from Sam.
"Cas," he growled, pain setting his teeth on edge, grabbing at the edges of Castiel's shirt, hand curling tightly around his forearm with a crushing grip. "Burns."
Castiel knelt down, holding Dean close to him. He felt tired but also rejuvenated, knew Dean was trying to use him as an outlet but there just wasn't enough room in the both of them. Dean was burning fever-hot, sweating, his heart beating so fast out of his chest, his breath harsh and panting.
"I know, baby," he said, standing up again and supporting Dean with his body, putting one of Dean's arms around his shoulders so they could walk together. Dean whined when it stretched out his stomach, clutching at his torso as though trying to hold the contents in. "It's alright." There, so close to death and being fed his enemy's power, Castiel had never felt more alive. This kind of thing was cause for a celebration. "I know just how to wear you out."
Castiel could remember how Dean felt, the night the two laid together for the very first time. He'd been nervous, only twenty, Dean 'younger' than that, but the Incubus had known. It was in his species to know, to coax and lure and guide his mate, his food, to give him what he needed. It only seemed natural to slick Castiel's fingers up with salve from his brother's medical kit, smearing the greasy ointment across and inside of Dean's entrance, to pierce Dean's body with his fingers and smoothly glide them in, to paint Dean's insides with his hands and the grease and get him ready. It had only been natural to twist his fingers and find a little lump that was different from the rest of the velvety smoothness, to press against it until Dean was writhing and begging for him to stop, continue, more, less, no, yes. It was only natural to add another finger, get them to three, thrusting easily inside of Dean's welcoming, burning, gracious body as the Incubus clung to him and whispered words of eternity into his ear. Dean was older than Castiel, if not physically, as a supernatural creature. As a creature of giving and receiving life, he was the first of the Firsts, the creator of the Alphas, the first of his kind and all the kinds he'd spawned – the First vampire, the First siren, the First of the Fey, all had come from Incubi, creatures that Dean had created, and those like him. They didn't know if Dean was the Alpha Incubus but he was the oldest one they could remember and Incubi are generally so benign and reclusive that it didn't much matter to them.
Dean's legs had locked around Castiel, dragging him in, pulling him closer, letting the human know such pleasure and joining as other humans hadn't felt since the time of the Angels and Giants, of old Gods and newer Demii. Heat, tight and welcoming had locked around the shaking, sweating human, binding them together, tearing them apart, Dean's own heart beating out an erratic baseline that Castiel's hips followed, snapping into Dean's own, the wet slap of skin against skin and their harsh breathing the only sound in Castiel's tiny room in their tiny house in the middle of nowhere (only deemed 'the middle' because all one could see was forest and fields in all directions and it was equidistant from the two largest neighboring towns). When Dean had laid his bite to Castiel's neck, pleasure and energy overflowing from him and pouring into the youth, Castiel hadn't been long behind, his palm burning hot and sealing over Dean's shoulder, ripping away at his flesh and bone until there was only soul and raw energy, a bright glowing ball of lust and love and unchangeable, dangerous beauty.
That night, when the threat was gone and the war was over, when Castiel drew Dean into their room and the two creatures shared in each other again…it was a lot like that first night. Castiel would never know because Dean would never tell him, but in every body that Dean had managed to find Castiel in, the Incubus had saved himself for his mate, either subconsciously or otherwise – Castiel would always be Dean's first.
The two powerful, immortal creatures renewed their bond that night, crying out to a night only lit by a waning gibbous moon, and somewhere, where the souls of creatures undamned are, their essences entwined as well and settled down to rest.