The funny thing was that on the same evening he had learned so much about Castiel - shouldn't he have called him Ivan? - he had wanted to write to him and rub his face in the lie about his name, but he hadn't. Instead, he lay in bed, listening to Sam's breathing, chewing his lip and staring indecisively at the open conversation until a message from Alpha appeared on his screen asking about his day. Fuck... The guy who owned a club where they drugged, fucked, and sold Omegas like Dean had just asked what he'd been doing all day. He should have started cursing and screaming, telling him to fuck off or whatever, but instead he just let out a long sigh and wrote back that he'd managed to properly mock a little knot. Castiel wanted to know more and Dean told him everything. And so their conversation rolled lazily on day after day. He told Alpha how much maths annoyed him. He amused her with a story from Home Care class, when the professor nearly had a heart attack when he boasted to her that his greatest culinary achievement was pasta cooked in a kettle and served with ketchup from the bags that could be scooped up for free at any diner. Or he confided that he got Sam to sign up for a science club. And the Alpha listened to all the whining about school and Dean's life, and at least successfully pretended to be interested, not like... No, like their Alpha, who listened but was mostly absent in spirit.
Of course, at certain moments he realized it was just a game. Alpha Castiel's sick obsession with this True Mates nonsense. But most of the time he felt good, wanted and cared for, and he liked the feeling, though he hardly admitted it to himself.
Castiel: Hello, Dean. The weather's nice today. I'll have you picked up and we'll have dinner on the waterfront.
A silly grin lifted his corners at the sight of Alpha's equally silly message. Come on, man, who was he to talk about the weather to say the least... And yeah, Castiel was definitely old enough to talk about the weather.
"Is that him again?" Sam asked, walking alongside him down the school corridor.
He shot his nosy little brother a look.
"Yeah, he's..." It would be a pointless lie, Sam could always tell when he was texting with Castiel, yet Dean was sure his scent hadn't changed.
"He's writing early somehow," the little Alpha pointed out, as if perhaps in three days of regular writing he could trace a pattern or something. Okay, okay... Except for that Tuesday, Alpha wrote early in the morning, before they went to school, and then in the afternoon, no earlier than three o'clock. Now it was quarter to three.
"What does he want?" Sam asked, stopping at his locker to grab his things.
Dean leaned against a nearby locker.
"He's inviting me to the waterfront," he replied with a shrug, trying to sound disinterested even as his Omega purred with excitement at the idea of seeing the Alpha again. "I'll tell him I can't because I have to pick you up from science club."
Sam gave him a cold stare.
"I'm not a kid, Dee. I can walk home from school by myself."
Dean frowned a little.
On the one hand, he had the urge to run after Alpha, but on the other, he didn't like the idea of Sammy travelling around the city alone. New York was fucking huge, and all you had to do was skip one stop and you were screwed. And looking at the subway map, he felt like a rat in a maze. He definitely wouldn't want to travel on it, and he certainly wouldn't let Sam on the subway.
"It's a long way and you have to take the bus..."
Sam interrupted him with a low, disgruntled growl.
"I can drive. I'm sure I can get on a bus and get off at the right stop." He slung his bag onto his shoulder and then slammed and locked his locker. "Feel free to follow him..."
He sized up his brother... Sammy was a smart puppy who knew how to take care of himself. He always did. Sometimes he'd even be alone in a hotel for a few days, and he was much younger. It was just stupid omega instincts mixed with his lingering dislike of big cities that made him hesitate unnecessarily.
"Okay, pup," he finally agreed, pulling Sam close so he could ruffle his hair, though he struggled with a growl. "I'll let you go alone, but I'm on my cell phone if anything happens. And take this," he added and, still holding Sam tightly around the neck, fished out his wallet and some change from it. "Buy yourself some decent food or order something."
The alpha hesitated a little before taking the money, and the look he gave Dean afterwards was piercing, as if he was wordlessly asking where he'd gotten so much cash. Damn. He should have brought less with him so he wouldn't draw so much attention.
"And you watch your step on the way," Sam surprisingly didn't comment on the money, but picked up on something new. "I heard in the bathroom..."
"And did you go to the right one, Samantha? You know the last time you got caught in the boys', you almost got expelled."
In response, Sam lifted the corner of his lip to show his Alpha fang and elbowed Dean lightly in the ribs.
"Dumbass," he snorted. "I'm not going to tell you for that, the Alpha from your year out there wants to find you and 'set you straight as a proper Omega'," he said with the same smirk in his voice that appeared on Dean's face.
"I'm already shaking with fear."
"You know what I don't know?" Sammy pitched in with an amused glint in his eye. "What that Forest is going to do when we leave here. I have a feeling he's built his entire school reputation on taming the evil Dean."
Leaving... When the little Alpha mentioned it, he realized he hadn't thought about it in a while, and since he hadn't heard from his dad in only the third week - far from the longest he'd known about him - he hadn't quite considered what would happen when their Alpha returned. Sure, his thoughts occasionally strayed to that, but far more often they revolved around Castiel and keeping the balance between them. And now... suddenly, when Sam brought up the subject of leaving, he wasn't sure he wanted to leave, and it only partly had to do with worrying about what Alpha Castiel would do if he tried.
"Dean?" Sam addressed him, giving him a little shove.
"What?" he jerked, meeting the young Alpha's questioning gaze. "Sorry, I've been thinking. I have to go now. You have fun and don't burn anything again."
"That only happened once," Sam muttered, a little irritated but mostly embarrassed.
Dean chuckled and patted him on the back.
He waited a moment longer for the Alpha to join his two Circle mates who were waiting nearby - two small beta boys who always seemed uncomfortable whenever Dean tried to talk to them - and made his way to the exit. On the way, he just texted back to Alpha that he was counting on the ride because he didn't need to inform anyone else about his afternoon. Lisa disappeared with her friends to the cinema. Poor Kevin had violin lessons. And Becky planned to spend a few hours in the newsroom to gather more disgusting reactions to the incident that had been resonating through the newsroom since that morning. Someone had broken into the German ambassador's house and, in addition to stealing some expensive artwork and a lot of cash and jewelry from his safe, they'd raped his Omega wife. It was an international scandal, and it also sparked discussions about Omega rights, because there were enough misogynistic pigs and knotheads spewing garbage on social media in the sense that it was Omega's own fault and she liked it anyway. Not that Dean cared that much about that stuff, but for Becky it was the main topic of the day.
He walked out the front gate and onto the street and looked around, searching for some inconspicuous Toyota and the not-so-inconspicuous armed guys that had picked him up last time. The only familiar faces he saw were Forest and two of his Beta buddies standing on the corner of the school grounds. If Dean wanted to get on the bus and not walk a few blocks, he'd have to walk past them. He knew this situation all too well. They'd let him pass, but they'd follow him until they were out of sight of the school grounds, and then they'd teach him the usual 'lesson' with a few fist bumps and a few lame curses about his Omega status.
Damn scanning gates at the entrance. If he had his knife, all he'd have to do is click it once and he'd keep Alpha like Forest at bay and all he'd get would be a few profanities. As it was, all he had was a small bunch of keys on a chain along with his wallet, which, oddly enough, they let him carry to school. They also visited a couple of towns where even that was forbidden.
He reached down to his waist to unfasten the chain and prepared to defend himself with it when an arm came around his shoulders.
As he tensed with concentration, he succumbed to his instinct and jumped aside with a loud grunt, fist wrapped in chain ready to strike. He stopped almost instantly when he caught sight of the now familiar rat face, grinning into a grin that showed one of Alpha's men showing his somewhat yellowed teeth.
"Don't bite, printsessa,," the rat guy said cheerfully.
He frowned. He could have been wrong, but the word was too similar, and more importantly, it wasn't the first time he'd been addressed by it, to dare risk objecting.
"I'm not a princess," he snapped less sharply than he would have liked, his gaze wandering to Marcus as he did so, who, along with his cronies, was giving them his full attention.
Considering that Rat Face was wearing a blue tracksuit with huge Adidas branding (sleeves rolled up and both tattooed forearms exposed), Marcus certainly couldn't have been thinking anything good. He'd probably guessed Ratty to be a drug dealer or something, which... technically he probably was, so Alpha wasn't wrong, but he didn't need to spread the word after school. Like, not that Dean's conscience would be bothered if someone thought he was a dealer, but somehow he didn't like the idea of the vice principal and the class teacher and the school counselor rummaging through his locker. He didn't have anything interesting in there, but purely on principle...
"Oh, my bad," Rat Face chuckled, leaning close enough that Dean could smell his fermented peaches, as well as the beer wafting from his mouth. "Friends?" He nodded to Forest.
He ducked to get away from both his scent and his foul breath.
"No way."
"Are they giving you trouble? Do you want us to take care of them?" He suggested with consummate ease.
He looked at him in shock.
"What! No!" He exclaimed instantly, before hesitating a little when he saw that Ratchet looked even more amused. "What exactly was meant by taking care of them?"
"Anything you wish." He winked. "Just if it gets too rough or bloody, we'll have to let the boss in."
He frowned a little. He wasn't sure if Ratchet was for real or just kidding, but for Marcus' sake he wasn't going to find out. Like, not that he wasn't on a roll, but he didn't deserve to end up in the hands of mob bangers who carried guns as an everyday accessory.
"He's just the alpha asshole from school and his buddies. I can handle them on my own."
"Are you sure?" Ratchet arched an eyebrow. "I don't have to curl a hair on their heads. We'll just scare them enough to piss in their shoes. I guarantee they'll leave you alone forever after."
"Aren't you here to take me to see Alpha Castiel?" He decided to change the subject.
Beta chuckled.
"Impatient?" He asked cheerfully before throwing his arm around Dean's shoulders again and beginning to guide him across the road. "Don't worry. I'm sure the boss has a good workout in store for you."
The only one here who looked like he wanted to 'work out' by the looks of that wink and grin was Ratboy himself, though there was only a faint whiff of excitement as he took in his scent. Faint even for a Beta. Just nothing as intoxicating as the heavy musky scent of his Alpha. I guess Beta was the type to be interested in anything that moved.
The ratman led him to an old, battered Ford parked a little further down the street - not far enough for Marcus to see Dean get in - and let him get in the back seat alone while he sat up front.
"We're supposed to drop you at the waterfront. Do you mind if we stop somewhere for coffee?" Rat asked, leaning sideways against the seat, one arm draped over the seat and not caring much that his buddy had moved rather abruptly out of line. "We've had a rumble for fourteen hours now, and driving you around town is a bit over schedule."
"Sure, but only if you bring me one too."
"Lots of milk and sugar?"
"Black, half a bag of sugar."
Ratty grinned.
"Did you hear him?" Ratty poked the driver, but didn't wait for his answer. "That's Omega after my own heart." He turned back to Dean with a cheerful expression. "I'd rather drive you than that last black Omega girl."
So much for Alpha's declaration that he was the first and only Omega he was interested in. Not that he didn't know how stupid that was, but he couldn't help a twinge of regret, and also something he didn't like to call jealousy. His damn whiny inner Omega just bared its teeth for no reason and growled quietly that the Alpha was his and his alone and that any other Omega who had the audacity to approach him would end up with Dean's arms around his neck and his teeth in his throat.
"She was a regular kopeykova shlyukha," The ratman wrinkled his nose in disgust, "but she thought she could boss us around like servants when she presented herself for Pugal at night. That was still Yuri, let's go shopping. Yuri, we're going to the restaurant. Yuri, take me there and there. And I should have done it on my own time, like I don't have a life of my own. But then again..." he shook his head. "She had proper tits and wore these tiny skirts and no underwear. I could always see right up to her pussy."
" He's right. She was Yagishna, only with big boobs," the driver turned to Dean and it only now dawned on him that he was the same guy he'd seen outside the motel a while back. Specifically the day Pyotr had visited him. They seemed to have an established pair doing what mob busters usually did; collecting ransoms, removing witnesses and most importantly their corpses, and by the looks of it, delivering Omegas to Castiel.
"Da, da," Yuri called Rat Face nodded. "She was good to look at, but we're all glad she disappeared with Pugal anyway."
"Wait, that... Pu-gal isn't Alpha Castiel?"
"Net! Ne day Bog!" exclaimed the driver. "Pugal was our boss years ago."
"Ah... ah," he breathed out vaguely, a little confused by the feeling of relief that spread through his body. Only that faded again too, because just because the last Omega they'd been carrying hadn't been Castiel's didn't mean he didn't have any. "What about your current boss's Omegas? Do you carry those too? I mean the others, besides me..." he asked, and yeah, it was about as smooth as sandpaper, but whatever?
His question was followed by an unusual silence, during which the Betas exchanged tense glances and a double whiff of nervous odor appeared under the upholstery cleaner. Faint, but distinct enough to make him sniff and be confused. The question might have been stupid, and he sounded a bit like a whiny, jealous Omega, but it wasn't so bad that the Alpha's men had to look like they were chewing on a lemon. If they thought it was stupid to talk about their boss, they could just send Dean and his question away.
"No, we never carried any Omegas for batyushka" the driver replied carefully.
"He's not much for Omegas or busty strypters," Yuri interjected, whereupon he turned to Dean with an emphatically raised eyebrow. "If you know what I mean."
He frowned because he didn't understand. Beta just rolled his eyes.
"He's just into guys, okay?" he waved his hand.
The driver made a disgruntled sound that might as well have been a word in Russian as a grunt.
"What?" the other Beta threw his hands out in a sweeping gesture. "Here we are in America, brat'. You can call someone a faggot here."
"He's a good Alpha and it's none of our business what he does in private. And with whom."
"I'm not saying he's not a good Alpha. He's just saying it's a good thing he found a young one here," he nodded his head towards Dean. "You see how... With Alphas and Betas it's always going to be putting a quarter pin in a round hole, but with Omega? Nature had its own plans for them."
When the Alpha had told him he had no interest in Omegas or women, he hadn't actually believed him. At the time, it seemed more like a way to ingratiate himself to Dean and make him feel unique. Apparently that was a well-known fact, but one that Alpha men weren't entirely comfortable with, which annoyed Dean for a number of reasons. Not just purely on principle, but because this was Castiel, and he had a compulsive need to protect Alpha.
"Does your boss know you're saying this homophobic shit about him?" He asked sharply; both Betas turned to him in surprise. "And that you're saying them about me?" He dared to add. "I'll bet you anything that if he found out, he wouldn't be too happy. Alphas are generally sensitive about someone mistreating their Omegas, and from what I know, the guy who did this to me," he pointed to the green and yellow bruise on his jaw, "ended up with three broken fingers. If I were you, I'd be careful about calling me a 'faggot'."
"You're getting angry for nothing, printsessa," Yuri waved his hand, literally and figuratively. "Of course you're not a faggot. You're an Omega."
He squinted his eyes in irritation.
"I'm a guy and... I'm dating a guy. That pretty much fits the definition of 'faggot'."
"Da, da... but you're not exactly a guy, are you?"
"Omega or not, I can guarantee you I have all the man bits in my pants."
"But a few extra girly ones too," Yuri argued with a condescending undertone.
This was one of the stereotypical shits. The fact that he was an Omega and nature had stuffed his ovaries and uterus into his belly in addition to all the other organs Alpha and Beta men had made him less of a man in the eyes of some. Someone or something in between. As for Dean, he'd always considered himself a man, and two extra organs didn't change that in his mind.
"Why don't you write that sexist bullshit down on a piece of paper, roll it up and stuff it up your ass? How about that?"
Yuri turned sharply with a not-so-friendly expression and opened his mouth to say something in reply when the driver clapped a hand on his shoulder and pushed him back into his seat.
"Ty khotite zakonchit' s prostrelennymi kolenyami? Zamolchi. I pust' mal'chik besitsya."
Whatever the driver had said to the other Beto was enough to keep him from turning to Dean again - and of course he didn't respond to the polite suggestion of where he could stuff his stupid shit - they just both gave him the occasional glance through the mirror while they talked in Russian so Dean couldn't understand them. He tried to at least see if they were talking about him, but he hadn't heard anything about Omegas, so he gave up and turned his head to the window.
When they talked about eating on the coast, the first things that came to mind were a hotdog with a good portion of onions, a chocolate milkshake, and a walk through some park with a nice view. He also thought of the beach, only it was too cold to go to the beach. Unless there was a beach restaurant.
Yeah, his money was on a restaurant. It would definitely be more suited to Alpha's tastes and his expensive shoes, which wouldn't do well with sea water or sand or grass. That's why he was surprised when the Beta driver ignored the sign proclaiming no entry for all vehicles except for the road department, emergency services and special permit holders and drove straight into the park. And then the greens continued until they stopped behind Alpha's Mercedes.
He got out, slung his bag over his shoulder and looked around.
The park was half empty. Most of the 'adults' were still at work, the youngsters of Dean's age preferred to head home or hang out in the malls, and there was no playground anywhere in sight for moms to take their puppies. The few lone pedestrians and smaller groups of people kept their distance from each other as much as possible, giving Dean an unobstructed view of greenery, water, and... His corners twitched in a smile.
Even from a distance, as he walked between the driver and Yuri, he could see Alpha Castiel sitting at a table set up in the middle of the lawn. He'd had the whole damn table brought to the park so he could have a late lunch or an early dinner. Who does something like that?
At the same moment that the first faint whiff of bitter almonds and cherries tickled his nose, Alpha must have caught the scent too, because he looked up from the phone he was typing something on, and almost instantly his entire stance and expression changed from tense to relaxed, and his lips lifted in a smile.
He stood up, shoved his cell phone into his pants pocket, and walked around the desk.
" Hello, Dean."
"Hi, Alpha," he replied, surprising even himself that he was the first to cross the last few feet between them and lean forward to get closer to the delicious scent that was strongest in the crook of Alpha's neck. Not muted by his shirt collar or, this time, his black tie.
What he didn't dare to do yet was touch Alpha. He felt the urge to at least run his hand up his arm, if not touch his shoulder and neck, because that would be dangerous and challenging as hell, but... He simply couldn't muster the courage or the resolve.
Alpha made the decision for him, wrapping an arm around his waist and pulling him close to him, burying his nose in his neck with far more vigor than last time. It was more like what Dean had expected the first time, but there was no roughness, only urgency and passion.
"It's good to see you," the Alpha said right after he pulled away, just before he cupped Dean's chin between his thumb and forefinger and pressed his lips to his.
He tasted of cigarettes, of course, but he also tasted of tea, and his lips were moist and warm, as if he had just drunk tea. Dean tilted his head to the side and parted his lips as he tried to deepen the kiss and get more of that taste. Surprisingly, the alpha didn't respond by slipping his tongue imperiously into his mouth - as Dean had expected - but just gave a low, throaty growl before pulling away from the kiss.
He wouldn't put his hand up for that... it could have just been the illusion of the autumn sun... but he thought he saw a red ring around Castiel's dolls. The brief moment he would have had to see for himself was quickly gone as the Alpha turned away and walked over to one of the chairs to offer it to Dean. But even the thought that he could nearly turn Castiel red with one half-hearted kiss filled him with pride and stirred his inner Omega. Damn it! That was so stupid. Stupid and dangerous, because the last thing he should want was to arouse some Alpha to the point where he lost control of himself. He knew all too well how that turned out, having experienced it twice before. Red-eyed, rutting Alphas who were completely beside themselves. Once he'd gotten away thanks to a taser, and the second time thanks to the sturdy, metal door of a gas station bathroom.
There was nobody and nothing to stop him if he went crazy.
"Sit down," Alpha urged him, interrupting the thoughts swirling through his head.
He gave him a quick glance, along with taking in the scent; calm, tart, and only slightly tinged with the Alpha's usual musky scent, before accepting the seat he was offered. It was still funny when Castiel had slipped him a chair like some gentleman from the old movies, but this second time... Maybe it wasn't even the strangest oddity that Alpha Castiel had shown him.
He leaned back comfortably in the folding chair with a warm blanket draped over it, tossing his bag next to his feet and glancing over at the smaller folding table covered in a white cloth tablecloth and filled with serving trays with lids. On the side of the table closer to the water was a... well, it looked like a large gold pot on small legs, studded with ornaments, with a small porcelain teapot with gold trim perched on top and a spigot sticking out of the side. He'd seen something like it before and vaguely suspected that it was used to brew tea, but he didn't know what the hell the proper name was.
He slid his gaze ahead of him to the porcelain plates at each place setting, two mugs and a sugar bowl, all trimmed in gold like a teapot. Both the teapot and the mugs seemed to belong in the same seder, along with the golden pot that radiated a pleasant warmth all the way to Dean's seat. And, of course, the glass ashtray conveniently placed near Castiel's right hand couldn't be missed.
A shadow fell across the table as Yuri walked over and gradually removed one lid after another to reveal... wow! The trays were filled to the last empty space. On one were sandwiches of all flavours; ham, turkey, some curried meat mixture, pickles, tuna - man, you could forgive the Alpha for that one, because yuck. They all had carefully trimmed crusts.
On the second one there were some awesome one-packs with sausages, ham, egg, olives, cucumbers and all sorts of things including... seriously, man, what did Alpha have with fish? Okay, okay, the caviar, which was also there, fit the picture of a Russian mob boss perfectly. The only thing missing was the champagne, which was fine because Dean wouldn't have wanted to taste it anyway. But the cupcakes with cream and fruit on the third tray... or the stuffed tubes... or the one-pieces carved out of toast with peanut butter and jam... or the brown sugared loaves that were probably gingerbread... well, everything on the tray looked edible. I'd still like a pie.
Oh, damn it.
This time he couldn't decide what to go for first, but in the end the turkey sandwich won out because it was the closest. He grabbed it and successfully stuffed a good half into his mouth in one bite, only to realize Alpha was staring at him. Okay, that was pretty rude, Winchester, and if Dad saw you he'd give you a good smack, except... God, all that food looked so good! For a moment, he forgot where he was and who he was with.
" Do you like it?" Alpha asked with no sign of displeasure.
"Hmmm..." He could only manage a grunt of approval, so he had a mouthful.
Alpha Castiel squinted his eyes along with an amused smile.
"It's amazing how much you can fit in your mouth," he remarked casually, but even that little was enough for Dean to feel his ears heat up.
Sure, it could have been a comment on his eating habits, but man... Dean was damn well aware of the double entendre.
"Boss..." came the voice of Yuri, whose presence Dean had forgotten even more reliably than Alpha's.
Castiel snapped a surly glance at his man and pursed his lips as the Beta leaned in to whisper something in his ear. Whisper was a very figurative way of putting it. You could hear every word he spoke in hoarse Russian, which of course only Alpha understood. And all Dean could do was watch Castiel's expression change from impatient to impatiently cold, and wonder what Yuri was telling him. Was he talking about what had happened in the car? Something about Dean not being a submissive Omega? If so, the boy was in for an unpleasant surprise, because he certainly wasn't going to keep quiet about his homophobic bullshit. And somehow he doubted Alpha would like being called a faggot. No one in Russia could like that either.
Beta had finished talking. Castiel just nodded slightly before a small motion of his hand sent him away along with the driver who was standing nearby. He gave them a parting glance before turning to Castiel once they were at the waiting cars, definitely out of earshot. He expected the alpha to glare at him, perhaps angrily, but he paid attention to the trays of food.
"I've been told," the Alpha said, taking a ham sandwich from the tray and placing it on his plate; Dean tensed a little and began to prepare how piquantly he was going to deliver Beto's stupid lines, "that you're having trouble with an Alpha."
He blinked in surprise and swallowed.
So this was what Yuri had told him? About Marcus and his two little friends, who, although they had a bit of a grudge against Dean, were in fact completely harmless, and not just towards Alpha Castiel and his men. There was a jerk like Forest at every school he and Sammy went to.
"All right. It's nothing," he replied, because lying wouldn't be a good idea. He didn't really know what all Alpha's men knew or saw.
"I'll make sure he doesn't bother you anymore," he replied, not looking up from eating his second sandwich. Tuna.
It was supposed to be funny. An alpha like Castiel Novak shouldn't have had to deal with some high school knothead with a penchant for bullying in the first place. It just didn't sound funny at all. The way he'd said he'd take care of Marcus had an edge of coldness to it that made Dean more than a little uneasy. Forest really was just a jerk, and he certainly didn't deserve to have the wrath of the Russian mafia on his back. After all, he hadn't done anything. He must have talked Alpha out of... whatever he was planning for Marcus.
"He's just a high school knot. Isn't it a little beneath you to even care about him?" He asked defiantly.
Alphas always respond well to insolence. He liked her.
Blue eyes glittered and Dean thought that maybe sass wasn't the best idea this time. But the alpha's expression was calm, almost indifferent, and that little spark was gone as quickly as it had appeared.
"He's the same age as you, isn't he?" He asked; Dean nodded. "Then he's not a little puppy anymore. He needs to be aware of the consequences of his actions and know what can happen to him if he touches an Omega that belongs to another Alpha. If he doesn't know, he'll be politely reminded."
The word 'politely' was spoken in a way that said the reminder would be anything but polite.
"Everyone saw your men pick me up today. If you send them after Marcus, everyone's going to think I'm in a gang or selling drugs," he argued, not so much in an effort to protect his stupid Alpha classmate as to avoid trouble himself and, more importantly, keep Sammy out of it.
Who knows why his serious-minded objection amused Castiel so much that he showed his golden fang in a smile.
"What's so funny about that?" He asked, a little irritated.
"You'd make a terrible high school dealer," Alpha's voice was laced with mirth as he replied.
"I'd be great!" He objected offended. "Look at me," he waved his hand towards himself, "I look just like a bad boy," he emphasized the 'bad boy' not only because he really took pride in his imige of a rebel, but also because of a little double entendre that had the desired effect.
The alpha gave him a penetrating look of interest and intensity that sent a pleasant shiver through Dean's entire body. Only then he returned to his sandwich, amusement lingering on his face.
"You certainly look it, Dean, which is why I wouldn't trust you to sell weed."
"Why not?"
"The high school market, at least in the neighborhood you go to, has similar rules to the white picket fence market. The seller has to blend in with the crowd. You," he nodded in his direction, "look exactly like someone with a knife and a bag of Adderall in his pocket. I can see it, you can see it, and most importantly, the whole teaching staff can see it. If your school started selling drugs on a large scale, you'd be the first one they'd suspect. On the other hand," he tilted his head a little, "the lovely cheerleading captain, the editor of the school newspaper, or the omega president of the chess club..."
It might have been a coincidence that the chess club president at his school was indeed an omega girl, but... no, how could he get little Betty Fowler to sell drugs for him? She was a cute and always cheerful, slightly chubby Omega with big glasses and braces studded with colored rhinestones, who wore brightly colored clothes and was always gorging herself on something sweet. He'd never thought anyone would be like her... He understood now, but still...
"Why would someone like that sell drugs?"
"Why would a Beta mother of two kids sell drugs?" Alpha asked in return. "Money, her own addiction, boredom, the desire to spit in the system's face. Just pick a reason."
"Betty Fowler sells for you?" He dared to ask an open-ended question.
"Who is Betty Fowler?" Alpha asked in confusion. And even his confusion seemed genuine, not just an attempt to avoid answering. He cocked his head to the side in an odd way, his eyes squinting and his lips parted oddly, making him look almost cute. By that, Dean could tell for sure that he really didn't understand.
"Omega's president of the chess club at my school."
"Oh, right. I see." He set down his sandwich and replaced it with a cloth napkin, which he began to carefully wipe his fingers with "We're only marginally interested in the high school market. The golden nineties, when school kids snorted cocaine off the toilet seat right in school, are long gone, and prescription drugs are making a lot more money on the street than among high school kids. Today, one in two middle-class American kids take antidepressants or attention deficit disorder drugs, and rather than buying them, they sell them themselves on the Internet or trade them among themselves." He folded the napkin in half, set it down, and removed the teapot from the top of the pot.
Dean watched curiously as Castiel poured what he thought was an unnaturally dark tea into his mug, sending a strong aroma into the surrounding area. He then removed one sugar cube from the sugar bowl and added it to the tea, finally holding the mug under the tap to refill it with hot water. A few vigorous stirs with the spoon preceded the Alpha grasping the mug with both hands - the ring holding the spoon as he did so - and taking a light sip.
A look of bliss immediately appeared on Castiel's face, and his scent was filled with a new shade of sweet happiness, almost the same as the last time they had just sat together. Dean was eating his burger, just as he was now chewing a bite of his sandwich, and Alpha was smoking. Only this time, he wasn't inhaling the nasty tar, but the surprisingly delicious smell of tea that made Dean's saliva pool. Weird. He always preferred coffee.
"Tea?"
"Sure," he agreed, watching as Alpha repeated the procedure with his mug. He did it with all the care he could muster, with his deft, tattooed fingers and yet so homely that... suddenly it all seemed terribly funny.
Laughing, he grabbed his warm mug a lot less gracefully and washed down the last bite of his turkey sandwich with the hot, slightly sweet tea. And hey, it was actually pretty good. Its flavor was as refined, almost floral, as its aroma.
"Something fun?" It was Alpha's turn to ask this time.
"Nothing." He shook his head; Castiel gave him a piercing look. "Everything... this here..." he waved his hand around and then between them. "And you and me...you...serving me tea and talking about selling drugs like you're talking about your day at job."
"Technically... it's my job," Alpha replied calmly, taking a decent bite of his tuna sandwich.
"Sure," he grinned, reaching for the ham sandwich that was next closest. "And I'm your house Omega, who you'll be telling at dinner about who you killed that day, how well he's doing selling guns, and how your hookers are doing."
He didn't mean any of this, though his mind painted a perfect and utterly absurd picture of family dinners with Alpha, at which they would discuss both mob business and the designs for new wallpaper for the living room. It was ridiculous, but the Omega in him loved it. The weird domesticity.
Alpha seemed to take it seriously though, because he put down his sandwich. He rested his forearm on the edge of the table with one hand and began running his fingers over the cup's tab with the other.
"After what you've already seen, it's pretty hard to keep who I am from you. But I admit," he tilted his head to one side and then smoothly back, "there will always be things... specific places, names, details that I can't tell you about because it would be too dangerous for both of us. But if you want to know something more general, just ask. If it's safe, I'll answer you. If not, I won't lie to you or keep anything from you. I'll just refuse to answer."
"Says the Alpha who didn't even tell me his real name," he snorted, only to immediately freeze in concern.
He didn't really want to tell the Alpha that he knew this little, or maybe big, secret of his. He had obvious reasons for keeping his real name from Dean, including the fact that, just as he'd just said, he didn't want him to know the details of his life of crime, and the name could very well be the key to them. Maybe, who knew, there was a warrant out for the arrest of one Ivan Kon-Novak somewhere in the world or in Russia, and now the Alpha would think Dean knew about him and could go turn him in at the nearest police station. Or that he knows other things besides the name, like where he washes his dirty money, the identities of the other members of his gang, where their secret bases are... just anything compromising that could be passed on to the police or the FBI.
All Dean knew was his name, a less than brief biography, and that he might like birds because he was a big contributor to a bird charity.
Oh, yeah... why the fuck didn't he shut the fuck up?
He opened his mouth to try and say some kind of apology, a joke, anything to shut up what he'd just said, only to be interrupted by Alpha.
"You googled me?" He asked as he picked up the sandwich again and raised it to his lips. His expression was calm and the almond bitterness didn't even begin to assert itself in his scent.
"Yeah, something like that. I did a little asking around. I know a few people too, you know, and I can get information when I want it," he snapped, because it was better to keep the light tone that gave the Alpha away than to give in to his racing heart and the inner Omega that, for all Castiel's calm, urged him to stick his neck out instead. Actually, since he was already at it, and if he was going through with it anyway, why not continue.
"I know your real name is Ivan Kon... konsto..."
"Ivan Konstantinovich Novak."
"Yeah, exactly... and I also know you were born in Moscow, own a strip club in addition to the Alpha Club, like dicks, and are one of New York's elite."
Alpha swallowed a bite of his almost finished sandwich and licked his lips.
"That's all right."
"And you're some damn big head in the Russian mafia." He finally said it out loud.
And, of course, Alpha wasn't moved.
"We don't usually refer to ourselves as the 'Russian Mafia'." He raised his mug of tea. "The name 'Russian Mafia' is mostly a Western invention. Besides, you have a habit of referring to almost anyone from the former Eastern Bloc as a Russian Mafioso. It doesn't matter if he's Russian, Ukrainian or even Bulgarian." He took a sip and put his cup back on the table. "Like me, my men come from Russia. Not all of them were born there, but they are all Russian in heart and blood. So yes, we are as close to the Russian Mafia," he indicated the quotation marks with the fingers of at least his free hand as he held the rest of the sandwich in the other, "as close as we can be, but we still prefer to be called Bratva. Or Brotherhood, if we speak English. Though most often we just call each other 'we'," he finished, popping the last bite of sandwich into his mouth, then peeling the crumbs from his hands.
Dean watched him chew and processed what the Alpha had just told him. Not that there was anything incomprehensible about it. It was all simple, clear and spoken as if he were talking about the weather. And he really didn't seem like he wanted to keep anything from Dean, so it suddenly made sense why he hadn't told him his real name. It couldn't have been the fear of being outed, or indeed the lack of trust, that made his Omega so uneasy.
"If you're comfortable telling me all this," he made a vague gesture, "then why didn't you tell me your real name?"
The alpha took a breath as if to reply, but ended up just frowning thoughtfully instead.
"Honestly?" He finally said, after a brief pause. "I've called myself Castiel for a very long time and, while my real name isn't a secret per se, most people don't know it or at least don't associate it with my person. My men call me 'boss' or sometimes 'batyushka' like most people in the Russian quarter. To Americans I'm 'Alpha Novak' or 'Alpha Castiel' and even my brothers usually call me 'Castiel'," he clarified, and in a way it wasn't that far from Dean's assumption that Alpha didn't want his real name to be common knowledge. "It'll be..." He tilted his head to the side a little, his brows drawing together in thought. His gaze was fixed somewhere behind Dean, as if he was remembering something, "twenty years since I've been routinely called Ivan, but if you'd prefer," he looked Dean in the eye again, "I don't mind."
He couldn't tell if the Alpha wanted to be called by his real name or if he'd rather stay with Castiel or if he was giving Dean a choice. He dared to assume he was being given a choice, because so far, even though Castiel looked like a typical Alpha at first glance, he had always heeded his wishes. At the same time, his instincts were telling him that he should do what his Alpha wanted, and since this wasn't something he outright disliked, he decided to give it a try.
"Ivan." He rolled his name over thoughtfully on his tongue, but somehow it just wouldn't do. It didn't fit. Not to mention that he wouldn't say his middle name even if he was being tortured. He frowned and shook his head. "I'm sorry, Alpha, but it sounds weird. If you don't mind, I'd rather stay with Castiel. I wouldn't say your second name anyway."
The alpha gave him a strange look that wasn't quite annoyance, but still looked a little displeased. Dean sucked in the air, and before the wind turned and blew all of Alpha's scent away, he caught the tang of discontent in his scent as well. Maybe he wanted him to call him by his real name after all.
"'Alright. It's probably best if you keep calling me Castiel," he agreed despite his displeasure, whereupon his expression softened again and he motioned with his hand to one of the trays. "Take the scanapé. I'm sure they'll be great. Ulyana Leonidovna took great care. In fact, she was the one who suggested that we could have sandwiches and canapé meals today. She said it would be more in line with your American tastes," he added amusedly.
He hesitated a little, watching Alpha for a few more moments, but apparently the subject of his name, as well as his criminal activities, had been pushed aside, and as far as Dean was concerned, he didn't need to revisit it right now. He quickly popped the rest of the sandwich into his mouth and, while he chewed, surveyed the overflowing tray playing with all the colors. Someone had really gone to a lot of trouble to make the sandwiches, so there was nothing missing at all. There were plenty of safe bits with ham, pickle or sausage and then the less appealing ones like the ones with fish or... caviar. Okay, he didn't really like fish, but hey! They ate caviar in every movie. It was supposed to be something super fancy and cool. Why not try it when it was right under his nose.
"I'll try the ones with caviar," he uttered solemnly in earnest, and as he reached for one of those one-shots, he flicked an eye at Alpha and was pleased to find the corners of his mouth twitching in a tiny smile as he watched him with squinted eyes.
He sniffed the mono and was surprised that he didn't actually smell of fish at all. And the black balls looked quite like small, shiny beads just moistened with water or maybe oil.
Bravely, he popped the single-snack into his mouth and chewed the crispy puff pastry a few times with only a slight fishy taste and a slightly salty undertone. Was that all? He wrinkled his nose in disappointment and sent a disgruntled glance in Alpha's direction, as if the bland taste was his fault.
Castiel had managed to pull out his cigarettes in the meantime, and was just lighting up when he caught Dean's reproachful look, so he just silently raised his eyebrows in question.
"Tastes like batter with a little salty, fishy water," he complained.
The alpha took a drag.
"I don't know what you expected otherwise, Dean...?" He said with a slight question at the end, a few puffs of smoke escaping between his lips with each word. "Caviar is fish eggs." Of course, he didn't bother to emphasize the word 'fish'.
He rolled his eyes.
"I know. I may be Omega, but I'm not that stupid," he snorted, only half noticing the Alpha's intake of breath as if to say something. He didn't give him the chance. "I just thought it would be... I don't know... More exotic? In the movies they keep talking about it like it's something special and it actually tastes pretty ordinary." He picked up another single serving and measured it critically. "I really don't understand why anyone would pay a hundred bucks for this."
"You can pay thousands for a serving of some kinds of caviar," Alpha pointed out casually, much to Dean's dismay.
He sincerely hoped that he hadn't just eaten a thousand just now, lest he end up complaining more. Very carefully, he placed the single-serving snack back on the tray. He wasn't going to put anything else in his mouth that was possibly worth more than all his possessions.
A deep growl came from the other side of the table, causing him to look up quickly, only to meet blue eyes sparkling with amusement and see the Alpha bar his teeth in a gleeful grin. The golden fang gleamed, and a genuine laugh escaped Alpha's throat.
"If you could see yourself right now... You're acting like I killed someone right in front of you, which..." He paused and frowned slightly, "...I already did, and it disturbed you less than the price of caviar," he pointed out, and to Dean's displeasure he just laughed again as he gave him a concerned look. Eventually, the Alpha took pity, his laughter turning into an amused smile that was even softened around the edges by what he dared to call tenderness. "Feel free to take more. It may be Russian caviar, but it's the kind you can get in every other convenience store. I like good food, but I mostly stick to the saying that no matter how much food costs, it's still going to end up being poop."
He blinked in surprise before bursting out laughing and raising his eyes to the sky, barely resisting the urge to kick Alpha under the table for such a stupid joke. What he didn't forgive himself for was a snort and a disgruntled pout that only resulted in the Alpha continuing to smile anyway, lips wrapped around his cigarette. He remained completely unfazed. He was simply unreal. No, seriously, he walked around in a twenty grand suit and calmly made remarks about asses and shit jokes. Who does that?!
He'd look Castiel in the eye, and he'd look back, and suddenly... Suddenly all the mirth left him as he stopped grinning, and was replaced by... something. A strange feeling in his chest. A sort of warm lightness that he would have loved to attribute to his Omega instincts, but a little voice in his head told him it wasn't that. Yeah, his Omega growled, satisfied by the mere presence of the strong, dominant Alpha that Castiel was without a shadow of a doubt, but that wasn't something Dean couldn't handle. He had years of practice at it, after all.
This was different, almost homely, like sitting outside his dad's favorite cabin in the mountains, Sammy on one side and their Alpha on the other... His stomach clenched. He refused to think about this, and even less wanted to consider why the two feelings were so similar. Feelings generally sucked and he certainly didn't want to dwell on them, so he turned his attention to something safe; one-liners. He started trying each kind in turn, the fishy ones first because he was curious and could eat them with other, better bites. All the while, he cast alternating glances at the now silent Alpha, who was contentedly smoking, his face tilted slightly to the side to let the sun hit it, watching Dean out of the corner of his eye, from under his squinted lids.
The line of Alpha's jaw was sharp in the lowering sun, his eyes were decorated with fans of fine lines, and the few silver hairs that had already gathered over his ears had a honeyed tinge. And when he parted his lips to put a cigarette between them, he was just... fucking handsome.
He averted his gaze and popped a sausage and pickle single into his mouth.
"These are really good," he broke the silence.
It wasn't that he didn't like just being with Alpha, but he simply couldn't sit still and be quiet. He needed music at least, if nothing else.
"Really? I'll try..." the Alpha uttered lazily, taking one as well.
The satisfying little deep noise that vibrated through Castel's chest was an assurance that he liked it too, and that was satisfying in such a pleasant way.
"See? I told you!" He grinned, stuffing two more pieces into his mouth while fiddling with the third in his hand. "I don't even know what that is..."
"Horse sausage."
He stiffened. Was the Alpha kidding him? No, it didn't look like it. He had his usual impassive expression on his face and a calm, blue lagoon in his eyes. So that meant... yuck! He didn't even think, he just leaned half under the table and spat everything in his mouth onto the grass. Borscht was one thing, but this...! Who the hell would...!
"Shit! Ugh!" Disgusted, he reached for his tea to rinse his mouth thoroughly with it. The flavorful, sweet liquid was just what he needed to get rid of the aftertaste, and then he looked with genuine anger at Alpha, who was watching him with a slightly raised eyebrow. "What the hell, man...? Horses aren't for eating! Horses are... they're like dogs, only for cowboys! And dogs aren't for eating!"
"Actually..."
"No!" He cried, waving his hand emphatically. "No, just no, Alpha. Just don't... no... just... no... there are lines that are not to be crossed, okay! And horses and dogs are far, like, way beyond them!"
He didn't care that the Alpha on the other side gave him an amusedly condescending look, nor did he care that he might stop being condescending and start getting angry that Dean was spitting food around like a little kid. Eating a horse was just over the edge. He wasn't going to take any Russian food in his mouth from now on, not if his life depended on it.
"Are you done?" asked Castiel, unperturbed.
He gave him an angry look cast over the mug from which he was finishing the last drops of tea.
"After this? Yeah."
"Good." He nodded, as if he didn't care what Dean had just demonstrated. He simply stubbed out the cigarette that only had a filter left of it anyway, then reached down into the picnic basket that Dean hadn't noticed until now and pulled out a paper bag, which he placed on the table.
He measured it suspiciously.
"I'm afraid to ask what this is..."
"Birdseed," the Alpha replied, but by then he was up and grabbing a folded, beige cloak from the back of his chair. It was the old, knee-length, cloth type, and while it didn't look worn, the strong scent of roasted cherries and bitter almonds wafted out as Alpha waved it to drape it around his shoulders. He must have worn it often, and probably rarely washed it, because the fabric was literally so saturated with his scent that Dean felt the urge to grab the nearest corner and bury his nose in it.
"Get up, Omega," he urged as he straightened the collar of his coat, snapping Dean out of his stupid fascination with the scent.
"Where are we going?" He asked, but obediently stood up.
Castiel gave him a look.
"To feed the birds," he replied in a way that made Dean look stupid, because after all, it was perfectly normal for a creepy Russian mob boss to go to the park to feed the pigeons.
"Yeah... feed the birds," he muttered, more to himself as the Alpha was already walking across the lawn towards the nearest path.
He took two steps behind him, only to be stopped by the sight of the last tray of desserts. Surely he couldn't be rude and not at least taste them. He quickly popped three tubes into his mouth, and while still holding one in his hand, with his other hand he piled all the gingerbread loaves into a napkin, wrapped them up, and shoved them into the deep pocket of his jacket. For later, or for Sammy.
He slipped the last tube into his mouth and looked back at Alpha, who was already standing on the wide sidewalk, watching him. He cast one last longing glance at all the unfinished food before Castiel quickly ran off, a muttered apology on his lips. Alpha made no comment, just started down the path, not checking again to see if Dean was following him.
He matched pace with him, looking around the park before they reached a spot that at first glance wasn't anything interesting - it had a nice scenery of the sea and the beach below - but Castiel thought it was perfect for... Dude, really? He wasn't quite sure how to feel as he watched the, knowing full well from personal experience the very dangerous Alpha, reach into a paper bag and then toss a handful of grain on the ground which the pigeons immediately began to descend upon. Probably the closest he came to feeling at peace, but also a little amused.
He shoved his hands into his pockets and allowed himself to move closer to Castiel so that their shoulders brushed against each other, allowing him to turn his head and inhale his contented scent. He was clearly enjoying feeding the growing flock of squawking birds that were gathering at their feet.
The alpha turned his head and their eyes met. Castiel's nostrils flared as he sniffed - he must have smelled Dean's equally satisfying scent - and then he just tilted the bag to offer him the chance to toss a handful as well. He hesitated only briefly, then thought why not. He scooped up the grain, which wasn't actually grain but small pellets, and tossed them to the pigeons.
"I last did this when Sammy was about eight," he remarked, smiling at the good memory.
"It's comforting. Weather permitting, I come here every Thursday."
He turned to Catiel, who was mostly concerned with the pigeons. His face was calm, relaxed, and he smelled so content that it was really hard not to inhale the sweet-tart scent. And at the same time, it was all... what was the word? Surreal. The same Alpha who could kill with his bare hands without blinking was happily watching the pigeons at his feet.
He had no idea what had come over him... he shouldn't have done it, knowing who the Alpha was and why he was even here with him... but he leaned in and pressed his lips to the rough stubble covering his jaw. Maybe it was just that his face was so close and his scent was so comforting. He didn't know, but it was great, regardless of the fact that it was also a little weird. He'd never kissed anyone with a beard, except his dad, and he really didn't want to think about him right now.
He pulled away, breath quickening and heart racing, and waited a few long seconds before Alpha slowly turned. They looked into each other's eyes closely. Dean's heart made a few more frantic beats before Castiel's eyelids closed and Alpha sucked in air deeply. This time it was accompanied by a rough sniffing sound and a very clear nostril movement that some would consider damn rude. Dean didn't even have a chance to think about what he thought.
Castiel's eyes opened again, and for a brief moment before he moved towards him and pulled him into a kiss, he saw with absolute certainty the blood red seeping into the waters of the blue lagoon. He didn't even have a chance to think about it, only to realize that his Omega literally howled in all-encompassing satisfaction at the fact that he clearly had all of this Alpha's interest, and then his lips were assaulted by a tongue relentlessly demanding entrance.
This time, though, he didn't give in as he had last time, though he felt a lightness in his knees. This time he came out willingly to meet him, tasting the tea and the shared flavor of the food and the bitterness of the cigarettes. He explored the heat and wetness of his mouth until he came upon a fang that protruded unnaturally from his jaw. Sure enough, all three of the Alpha's true fangs were simply Alpha; pointed, but almost aligned with the other teeth. Only one dominated everything, and surprisingly, it was just as sharp as the real ones. In a small rush of curiosity and mostly rationality, he wondered if that was the reason for Castiel's gravelly voice, but then he felt a large palm on his cheek and fingers brushing against his neck, and any normal thought was pretty much smoked out of his head.
He didn't think as he gripped Castiel's hips, and instead of curling up against him, he instead pulled Alpha against him until their belts met. He did it as intuitively as he would have done with any girl he'd ever kissed, he just needed a little more strength to do it.
Castiel pulled away. He unconsciously followed his retreating lips. He wanted more, but Alpha had other plans. He buried his nose in the crook of his neck, found his way under the collar of his jacket, and finally pinched his steaming gland between his lips. And God, it was... Even though Alpha's mouth was touching his neck through two layers of fabric and he hadn't even used his teeth, it still shot an incredible sensation from Dean's shoulder beautifully between his shoulder blades and then further down his spine and into his cock as well.
He had to bite his own cheek to suppress a groan and grip even tighter to keep from growling in frustration as Castiel pulled away, and all that was left behind was an uncomfortable cold sensation on Dean's neck.
"The park is starting to fill up," Castiel remarked, seemingly unrelated to anything they were doing. His voice was even deeper than usual, and his eyes were unfocused as he let go and took a step back.
He blinked in confusion and looked around. Really, there were more people around, but why would that... Oh, right. If he continued, surely sooner or later there would be someone who would be offended and who might even drag the nearest officer into it. Neither of them wanted to get involved with the cops.
"Yeah... yeah..." he growled, pulling his jacket off his shoulder.
He suddenly felt insecure. And when he looked up into Alpha's face, his uncertainty intensified. He looked devastated, and while it drove Dean Omega crazy to see his Alpha so eager, he also felt a chill in his gut.
He was sure that this time the Alpha wouldn't let him go. He was too horny. And Dean honestly wasn't sure if that turned him on more or scared him.
"I guess... um, I guess we should..." He pointed a thumb behind him.
"Good idea," the Alpha agreed, surprisingly finding enough time and probably self-discipline to empty the bag of kibble on the ground before wrapping his arm around Dean's shoulders and steering him back towards the car.
As they walked towards the car looming in the distance... Alpha's arm rested around his back in a decidedly possessive manner, their hips touching each other just enough so that it wasn't actually inappropriate, his strong, tattooed fingers pressing discreetly into the crook of Dean's neck. It was probably a slightly inappropriate touch to pretend they were related, because Alpha's fingers pressed right into his gland and... well. Damn. He couldn't think about how dangerous that was as he felt a soft, pleasurable tingle all over his body every time the bellies of Alpha's fingers pressed particularly hard into his skin, albeit through all those layers of fabric. No one had ever touched him there so intensely. Sure, every girl he's been with has tried it, especially Omega, because perhaps the last person in the world knew how sensitive the scent glands in Alphs and Omegas - and a couple of happy betas - were, but it was never like that. It's like Castiel can intuitively press the right buttons.
If he wasn't afraid by now, by the time they got to Mercedes and Golem opened the back door, he felt fear. Strangely enough, he wasn't so afraid of Alpha taking him in… even though, man, yeah, he had nodules of nervousness in his gut… as much as he had a strong influence on him. And also that he always allowed himself to forget that this is not a dating, but rather… a business. His and Sammy's life and a few nice moments in exchange for setting butt.
Simple.
He slid up to the window and leaned back into those damn comfortable, soft seats that… come on! What he really needed was for the heat from the heating to start thawing his cold ass when he didn't even notice it froze. On the other hand, it was really pleasant. With a sigh, he plunged into the pleasant warmth and even closed his eyes for a moment, which he quickly opened only when he felt movement next to himself.
Alpha leaned towards him.
He strained a little, expecting Castiel to sink his nose into his throat, as he had done on the pier, but he curiously stooped for the bag lying at his feet.
"I have a present for you," he said as he put the bag on his lap.
According to the logo, he already knew what would be inside and was not mistaken. The latest iPhone. By designation, not the most expensive on the market. Thankfully. He had no doubt that Alpha would have that one too, but Dean wouldn't be able to use it anyway because he wouldn't be able to hide it from Samm and his classmates. And he couldn't even answer noisy questions like where he got his answer when he lived in a cheap motel and went to work in an ugly diner. But it was still something he would only get his hands on if he accidentally pulled it out of someone's pocket instead of wallet.
"The one in the top box is for you. The second is for your brother."
Fuck. Did he buy two? How did he think he could explain to Sam that he had brought home a new iPhone still sealed in a box? Wait, actually no, the box was already unlocked, and when he opened it and turned the phone on, he found it was ready for use.
"You have all the contacts on me, including the addresses where I usually stay. Also our chat app. The River," he added, which was clearly the name of the app, and from the way Alpha raised his eyebrows, he probably wanted Dean to find it. It wasn't hard to find, considering it was one of two new apps on mobile, and if that wasn't enough, the bland icon of something like a twisting river on a green background told its own story. When he knocked on it, a simple chat opened up for him, with whom apparently no one took much time graphically. The only interesting thing about the whole application was how Alpha managed to push it into iPhones, which were notorious for hating unlicensed applications.
"Don't worry, you can send me messages, photos and videos with any content. Everything is sent encrypted and it is deleted from the mobile when the application is closed or once every twelve hours. The second," he pointed to the second application, "is self-destruction."
Dean looked at him in disbelief. Really? Self-destruct?
"When you activate it, it wipes all the content on your phone with irrelevant data and then overloads the battery. You better not have your phone in your hand at this point. It's really kicking. Then I usually trample him down,"he half advised, frowning a little. "I don't trust computers. Certainty is certainty."
"Okay, Alpha, I'll remember that," he said simply, because what else can hi say? And carefully put the iPhone back in the box. The last thing he wanted to do was drop it on the floor and smash it right in front of Alph's eyes.
"You don't like it?" Castiel asked with a hint of concern in his voice, a hint of uncertainty filling his cakey scent. And when Dean looked at him, he had a frowned expression. "They say it's something you should like."
Of course he liked it. Who the hell wouldn't want a new phone? Especially beautiful, shiny, novelty-smelling iPhone, but… It was a very real reminder of what Alpha was really up to, and even if it wasn't a direct payment like the damn car, it was pretty close. Mainly because he knew he couldn't refuse. How did he say that last time? Refusing gifts is impolite. And Dean was pretty sure that Castiel cared a lot about courtesy and respect.
"No, it's great. Thank you, Alpha," he said quickly to avoid inconvenience.
Unfortunately, it didn't seem particularly pleasing to the Alpha.
"I was expecting more enthusiasm. Maybe even a little gratitude."
Dean clenched his jaw in a fit of irrational anger, because why would he be angry? Everything worked exactly as he had counted in the beginning, and what was the expression of gratitude did not even have to describe Alpha in a comprehensive way. He slid his gaze to his crotch, where a dick was outlined under the cloth of his pants. Shamelessly exposed between comfortably stretched legs. It was probably best to just get over it. Making the damn move first and destroying Alph's mind game.
He put down his bag and leaned over to Castiel.
He could not and did not want to look into his eyes, so he looked only at the place where he was about to get a job. He doubted the Alpha would settle for just a hand, it wasn't some high school knot. And that's why he tried to remember the details of the few smokes he experienced and all the porn that passed through his cell phone in which a nice busty girl swallows a big alpha dick including a knot. He hoped the Alpha wouldn't want him to. Except for a few fleeting thoughts, which he always suppressed, he didn't even consider taking someone else's penis in his mouth, much less thinking about how to stuff it down his throat and then get it knotted in his mouth. Yet at this moment he could not help the disturbingly exciting idea that he had Castiel's fingers in his hair and was being pushed into his crotch, a mouth full of massive cock, so he had no chance to pull back or protest.
He swallowed heavily, gathered all the strength to suppress his lush imagination, and put his hand on Alph's thigh, while the other stretched to a simple belt buckle. The cloth under his hand was firm, but at the same time soft and pliable. Maybe if he focused on that and just let the Alpha do what he wanted, it would be easier…
He almost flew out of his skin.
The pants under his hand began to win some Russian song and vibrate.
"Sorry," Castiel apologized, reaching into his pocket, so the edge of his hand over the cloth touched Dean's.
He quickly put his hand away and retreated, as he watched tensely as the Alpha frowned at the display first and then sighed.
"This may take a while, but I have to take it," he announced sincerely, apologetically and with a small hint of irritation, as if he had just interrupted something really pleasant for both of them, then he put his phone to his ear and literally yelled into it, "Ya slyshu tebya, brat'. Chto ty khotit?"
Dean almost jerked himself a second time, preferring to give Castiel and himself a little more space. When Alpha spoke English, his voice sounded beautifully deep, like a sip of fine whiskey, and the accent gave the words an exotic, almost seductive quality, but when he spoke Russian… well, it sounded like he was roaring angrily, even if his scent was only slightly irritated. And whoever he was talking to, he sounded pissed.
He tried to move to the other end of the seat, but Alph's hand fired quickly and pressed on his thigh to stop him. He looked at him, only to find that he paid little attention to him and concentrated mainly on the phone. Still, he held him close. He tensed for a moment under his touch, ready to back away as soon as Castiel let him go, but since he didn't, and it didn't look like he was going to end the call anytime soon, he just leaned back in the seat. And finally, he relaxed, even through a loud and rude call resonating throughout the car.
He followed the road, only occasionally straying from the corner of his eye to Alpha, who looked back at him. And several times he rolled his eyes in annoyance, and several times the grip of his hand grew stronger. At one point, Dean even had the impression that they were talking about him because he looked at him so strangely, but he stopped caring when he realized they were just outside their motel.
"Ya dolzhen ostanovit'sya, brat,," Castiel growled into the phone, certainly not waiting for an answer before tapping the call. He put his phone back in his pocket. "Sorry. Getting rid of my brother is hard. The Irish could tell the tale," he added to himself with a small, amused grin, before turning to Dean and the corners clapped in his smile. "Come here…" he said with a sigh, grasping his back and pulling for a quick, damp kiss that made Dean lean against his breasts with his palms, just so he wouldn't fall into his arms. And then he pulled away again. At the same time, however, he did not release Dean, but only relieved the pressure on his neck. "I'm sorry we lost our last moment together."
"It's nothing. Your brother must have had something important," he replied politely. They were at a motel, which he really didn't expect this time, and because he didn't want to focus on why he was sorry, he instead focused on ending the date as quietly as possible.
"He rarely has anything important," Alpha said, sighing and letting go. "You have to go, Sam is waiting for you. And write how he liked the gift. Perhaps he will be more enthusiastic than you," he did not forgive a small sting, but unlike the first complaint, this time he had a more amused spark in the corner of his eye.
"I can't just give it to him," he whispered to Castiel's clear displeasure, so he quickly proceeded. "I mean… I don't want to sound ungrateful because I'm not, Alpha, I just don't know… where do I say I got a new iPhone? I don't normally steal such expensive things and…"
"Just tell him it's a gift from your Alpha," he interrupted with a recommendation, as if it was okay to say something like that to Sammy. When he left, he wasn't really his Alpha boyfriend, though he liked to look so much. The only thing that was unbelievable was that the Alpha he was seeing would be rich enough to give away iPhones to strange boys. Mainly because there was not much chance of him meeting someone like that in the bars and diners he went to, and it was still a bit of a mystery to him that Castiel just stopped by for cookies and vanilla milk when he had people for everything else.
"It's not just like that. How do I explain to him where I met you? Or where did you earn it?"
Castiel tilted his head to the side in a typical confused gesture.
"Just tell the truth."
"Yes. I will say that I met a Russian mafia boss in the evening who was just buying biscuits and he accidentally killed two people in front of me, so he had to kidnap me…"
"I'd skip the mafia, corpses and kidnapping part. I think the rest is pretty believable. Your familiar scent…" he leaned forward a bit to take in Dean's scent with closed eyes before pulling back and continuing, "is reason enough for me to reach out to you. Actually, I was going to wait for you outside and introduce myself. Those two idiots ruined it for me. And as for the money…" he bared his teeth a bit with a wildly amused smile, "I'm a sneaky businessman and the owner of two decently profitable entertainment businesses. Ask whoever you want. Even my legal earnings are so big that this," he nodded to Dean's bag at his feet, "is nothing but petty to me." He tilted his head a little again. "But if you want, I can give it to him myself and explain everything to him."
No. No fucking way. He didn't want to go near Sammy. Now a lot more than before. A few days ago, they might have tried to convince little Alpha that Castiel was just a rich man he happened to meet in the middle of the night in a store. Although even then it would be difficult considering the Alpha had his origins literally written on his body. Now Sam was absolutely sure who Castiel Novak was and what he was doing, and perhaps he knew a lot more than he had last said. And it was all Dean's fault because he didn't realize in time that his brother was like a real hound dog, and he sent him on a dangerous trail.
"I'll tell him it's a gift from you," he agreed, though he wasn't sure he'd actually do it. He could still claim that he had seized the opportunity to steal a bag that someone would put away to take out their car keys.
Castiel nodded happily.
"Did you want to tell me something before? Before my brother so rudely interrupted us…" he asked, his intensely blue gaze curiously fixed on Dean.
No, he didn't want to say anything, he planned to blow him as a 'show of gratitude' for the two new iPhones. Maybe this was an incentive for him to do it now, but… no, it didn't really look like that. He'd already seen Alpha excited, like, half an hour ago, and now he didn't look that way. He didn't have pupils like saucers or a red tinge in his irises or a heavy, musky need in his scent.
"No, nothing..." he tried to shut it up completely, but the Alpha narrowed his eyes in disbelief. "I was just wondering… what if next time I took you somewhere?" it fell out of him to his own surprise.
"Take me somewhere?" he asked mistrustfully.
"Yes. I mean, on our next date."
"Where?"
"That would be a surprise," he added, probably to me, mentally, though… he once peered into a nice sports bar about a thirty-minute walk from a motel. He had a nice cold beer there, watched how well the regulars were playing pool and drooled over the wonderful looking burgers and wings that the waitress was carrying around him.
"I don't like surprises. They usually try to kill me."
For anyone else, it would be a joke, but for Castiel, it was more of a statement of fact.
"It's a sports bar not far from here," he revealed for Alpj's peace of mind and also for his own, since he no longer had to think about where he was taking him.
Right That's okay," he agreed, apparently reassured. "I'll leave the planning to you. Except Saturday from five in the afternoon to eight in the evening, when I am at mass, I will make time for you anytime. Just write the time and place where we will meet."
When he forgot that the invitation was suspiciously easy, so… Mass? He glanced down at the massive golden cross on Castiel's chest. Well, it seemed he wasn't just there for the glamour, and as he guessed, the Alpha probably had a lot of sins to confess.
"Um, sure… so we're done?"
"Of course, Dean."
After another quick but warm kiss and wishing him a nice rest of the day, Alpha let him go. He stayed in the parking lot until Mercedes disappeared and then, laden with a bag of new phones, he set off through the parking lot. So halfway through, he thought Sammy might be better off accepting one gift just for him than two, so he took out his iPhone, put it in his pocket, and threw the box away along the way.
"Hey, puppy, I'm home and I brought you a present.
""Gift?"
Sam emerged from the back, earpiece in one ear and thrown around the neck the other. He didn't answer him, he just put the bag on the table and let him open it himself and look inside. At first, the face of the little Alpha stretched out in surprise, before frowning again as his scent grew bitter.
"Where did you get that, Dean?" he turned to him. "You know what Dad said? You can't steal such expensive things. If you are caught…"
"I didn't steal it," he refused, before resigning a bit: "My Alpha gave it to me for you." He raised his hand to silence Sammy because he saw him breathing in to protest. "I know what you mean; that he's trying to bribe you and things like that, but he…" he hesitated, himself unsure if he was going to tell the truth or a lie, "I think he's just trying to be nice, okay?"
The Alpha continued to frown in disapproval, but looked into the bag again, and something like hope flashed in his eye and scent. And the more he looked into the bag, the more his face was smoothing, until he finally reached inside and pulled out the box. He still held her hesitantly in his hand, but he fixed a hopeful gaze on Dean, who tried to hide it under his frown.
"I do not like it..."
"If you don't want it, I'll take it and…" He reached for the box.
Sam immediately put her out of his reach. At first glance, it was clear that he had done it instinctively rather than intentionally.
"I didn't say I didn't want it, just that I didn't like it. Where does he get it?"
"Working... And I think his family is pretty rich," he replied, which was technically true if he considered the Russian mafia to be his family… actually, sorry, Bratva. But Sam continued to frown. "Look, I can't give it back to him, but if you really don't want it, I'll sell it somewhere."
"No. When he bought it for me, I'll keep it, but you know... after this, you're really gonna have to introduce him to me. I want to thank him."
"I'll ask," he replied vaguely, rather than changing the subject: "Did you buy something to eat?"
Of course, the iPhone didn't stay forgotten in its box, and Sam spent the rest of the evening enthusiastically rehearsing it, but at least he had the decency to answer Dean's question about food before he almost tore the poor paper wrapper apart with a quiet growl on his lips.
Dean followed him with a small smile, and since his meetings with Castiel were worth nothing, at least it was Sam's puppy enthusiasm.
kopeykova shlyukha - kopeyka is a low value coin. And shlyukha means prostitute. Same meaning as five dollar whore.
Pugal - Scarecrow. Medvedev's nickname. In his case, the nickname has a derogatory meaning, because although the scarecrow is scary at first glance, it is actually just straw, old clothes and a sack. Nothing to be afraid of.
Yagishna - In other words, also Baba Yaga; an evil witch from Slavic mythology. She is most often depicted as an old, gaunt woman who hunts down and eats travelers or children.
Net! Ne day Bog! - No! God forbid!
Ty khotite zakonchit' s prostrelennymi kolenyami? Zamolchi. I pust' mal'chik besitsya - Do you want to end up with shot knees? Shut up. And let the boy rage.
Ya slyshu tebya, brat'. Chto ty khotit? - I'm listening, brother. What you want?
Ya dolzhen ostanovit'sya, brat - I have to quit, brother.