The bar was stuffier than he remembered, the sounds seemed distant and indistinct, and things a little more than six-seven feet away seemed shrouded in an invisible fog. He was probably totally drunk. It was the tequila. Or Jim's earlier. Definitely not the beer. He was good with beer.
He leaned into Alpha's side and took in his scent, filled with an excited musky smell. Wow... It was... just wow. Finding himself pinned between Cas and the wall, literally unable to run anywhere, made his Omega whimper and adjust his throat. And Dean almost did the same. He had to fight to talk a little normally instead of just... Damn! All he desperately wanted to do was turn around, bend over and spread his legs wide. He wanted it badly. And at that moment, it seemed like the best idea to agree to do it.
He slammed his belly into the bar counter.
Alpha pressed up against him from behind, his cock right against his ass, and put his hand on his hip.
"You want anything else? More tequila?" He asked with his lips almost at his ear.
Dean shuddered.
"I don't know... yeah... maybe."
He wasn't sure it was a good idea to drink. Something told him it wasn't, but the Alpha was so close. Alpha also seemed to think it was a good idea. So yeah, it was probably okay.
"One more tequila. No lemon or salt. Then I'll pay," Cas ordered the waitress behind the bar.
"One tequila will be here right away. But you'll have to wait for the boss to pay. He'll be back soon," the waitress said as she was pouring.
"Okay. I'll wait," Alpha agreed.
Moments later, a full glass landed on top of the one in front of him. He hesitated once more. Maybe he really would... Except Alpha picked up the glass and put it in front of his face.
"Drink," he ordered, so Dean took the glass and sipped from it.
"All of it."
"I don't want to be... completely out..." he muttered in protest.
"You won't be," the Alpha assured him, running a hand through his hair; Dean's Omega grunted and craned his neck, and he with her. The Alpha moved closer so that he could feel his warm breath on the exposed skin of his throat and hear his compelling growl. "Just relax nicely. It'll be better that way. Trust me... Omega," he whispered, this time brushing his lips against the back of his neck. "You don't want to be tense when I pull you into my knot. And that's what I'm going to do tonight. Many times. Moy prekrasnyy... Moy sladkiy Omega... Tol'ko moy..."
The alpha switched to his native tongue. Voice gruff, growling, and again seemingly angry, but at the same time so... wow! He whispered compliments in his ear. And dirty things. And everything about Dean seemed so distant and vague that they were in public. And that the glass was heavy in his hands. And he was hard and his briefs must have been hopelessly soaked. He must have smelled all over the pub. Horny, young Omega. Somehow he was vaguely aware of it. But he didn't care.
He drank the rest of the tequila. He let his hand with the glass drop a little too sharply, so the glass hit the bar. That was funny. He laughed and arched his back a little so his ass ground against Alf's crotch. He didn't even know why he was doing it. It was just something he wanted to do. Something he needed to do. And it was funny, so he laughed again as Alpha growled playfully behind him.
Then several confusing things happened at once.
He was vaguely aware of laughter and shouting somewhere behind their backs. Then the shattering of glass. He knew that sound well. A beer bottle. Suddenly an unpleasant dull pain shot from his stomach and he slid down the edge of the bar, surprised he didn't fall all the way to the floor. He must have grabbed the slippery, slightly damp wood. The world spun around in front of him and the pain was terribly strong, but at the same time, it felt distant.
"Fuck... what the hell..." he muttered, all confused, and began rubbing his bruised stomach absentmindedly.
From his left, he heard a loud, guttural Alpha growl that was somehow... familiar or something. Dad...? No, no, wait, he wasn't in the pub with his dad, he was with his Alpha. Yeah, it was Cas. Just as familiar, just a different sound.
He turned around.
His Alpha was standing a little spread-eagled, arms out from his body in what looked a little like Alpha pose, but was really just... yeah, half his back was wet and the fluid from one of his sleeves was dripping onto the floor. Judging by the smell that was spreading to the surrounding area, it was beer. Someone spilled beer on him. And the alpha growled angrily. And it was like... fuck, fuck, fuck. The last time he'd seen Castiel get into an argument with someone, it had been the two idiots in the store, who were probably eating fish right now. Or they were decomposing in a vat of lye. Or maybe in a landfill somewhere. Whatever. They were just dead.
"What are you looking at?" snapped a muscular guy only a few years older than Dean who faced Alf, and he must have been the same guy who'd thrown his beer at him, because he was holding an empty glass and his own suede jacket was just as faded as Alpha's back. "Do you know how much that jacket cost!"
Probably less than Cas's underpants, ran through his mind as he moved forward. He wasn't sure what he really wanted to do. His head was still light, but most of the drunkenness had subsided. Probably dispelled by adrenaline or something. All he knew for sure was that he wanted to be by his Alpha's side when he faced... He sucked in air. What the hell...? Beta? Was he totally drunk, high, or just wishing he could collect his own hands from the fan hanging from the ceiling? Sane Betas didn't usually open their mouths to Alphas, even when they were half a head bigger and about thirty pounds heavier than the Alpha in question.
He got to Cas's side and that gave him a view of Jacob. He appeared behind the muscleman's back, slightly to his right.
The Alpha held up a hand. It looked like an involuntary gesture, but it wasn't. It was a subtle command. Jacob simply froze in mid-motion, just staring coldly at the back of Beta's head.
Castiel slowly straightened and took a small half step forward.
"You crashed into me. And spilled on me," he said in a voice as calm as the way he'd spoken to the robbers, and just like then, the bitter almonds slowly rose to the surface over the pleasant scent of roasting cherries. If the other man had been an Alpha, he would have known what he was facing, but like this...Oh, man...Beta was so fucked up and he didn't realize it yet. And Dean was having a lot of fun. He knew he should be worried about what was going to happen, but man... He wanted so badly to see his Alpha kick Beta's ass.
"What? What did you say?" Beta asked, his head tilted as if he was trying to listen, his face contorted in a weird grimace.
"I said," the Alpha spoke slowly, clearly, but still with his accent, which was a little thicker than usual. And he took another half-step forward, "that you were the one who crashed into me and spilled your beer on me. It would be polite to apologize."
"Eh?" Beta made a disgusted sound. "I don't understand half of what you're saying, buddy. How are you talking? Learn English... asshole... or don't come here. Yeah, don't come..." He took a wobbly step forward and pointed a finger at Alpha. "Scum like you... scum who can't even speak... you have no business in our country." He waved his hand with the pint so close to Castiel's face that it missed by half an inch and would have offended his nose.
Dean's eyes glazed over. His Omega growled furiously. No one was allowed to hurt his Alpha. No one!
His primal instinct to protect screamed to knock some teeth out of the guy, and most of his alcohol-laden brain agreed. But a small one. A tiny part was still rational, and a simple calculation ran through it. Dean would throw a punch. Beta would hit him. Castiel breaks Beta's neck. Castiel ends up in jail or dead. Bad, very bad outcome.
Still, he couldn't stop himself from stepping between Beta and his Alpha. He hunched over and bared his teeth. And he didn't care that he had to look up to the man to show his fangs.
"Get away from my Alpha!" he growled.
Beta shot Dean a confused look, then laughed. Loud and amused, he took a step back, both arms outstretched as if he were hugging the room.
"Look at that knotless! He must be protected by Omega!"
He heard a growl behind him, which alone would have urged him to crouch if not for the still strong desire to protect Alpha and the knowledge that the growl wasn't directed at him. But the smell... God the smell was unreal. A rage so intense, but also so controlled, it was like someone had pulled a stinking bag over his head and then tightened the cord around his neck sharply. It was almost suffocating, and he knew the Alpha wasn't angry with him.
Crash!
The thud of metal hitting wood made him literally jump. The tense moment was gone. The growl behind him slid into a sharp gasp. The Beta Asshole stumbled, and if it weren't for his two buddies, he would have crumpled to the ground. And Jacob, who had been watching Beta, turned his head sharply toward the bar. Dean did the same and saw the Beta barman's sullen expression. He was behind the bar, holding a crumpled aluminum baseball bat. Oh yes, a multi-functional pub kicker cheaper than even the cheapest gun. And one didn't even have to learn how to use it. It just might not be very effective against Alphas. But he bet there was a stun gun somewhere under the bar. Every 'good' place had one.
"That's enough," the barman uttered in a firm voice before pointing his baseball bat at the provocateur and his friends. "Take your friend and drag him to the back. If you make sure he stays quiet, you get a free round."
I guess the bouncer was so drunk and so shocked by the blow to the bar that he allowed himself to be grabbed by two of his buddies and dragged away with only a weak protest. It wasn't until he saw him fall onto the chair where his buddies had thrown him that he felt the anger leave him. And the feeling that everything around him was floating. The booze rushed back into his head faster than it had left it before. Even his legs got a little weak and he actually had to grab the bar discreetly if he didn't want to slump into Alf's arms.
"And you..." the bartender turned to Alpha, and after addressing him he fell silent for a moment as if in hesitation. He was probably expecting more growls and anger, because that was how most other Alphas would act. Once pissed off, it was just hard for them to calm down, but not for Dean's Alpha. Castiel looked like he was calm. At first glance. Only the barman, as a Beta, couldn't sense that in fact the bitter smell of almonds almost completely covered the sweetness of the cherries, and even though the Alpha looked calm... no fangs or red eyes... he wasn't calm at all.
Shit.
"Sorry about them," the bartender finally spoke up. "All on the house of course, Alpha, and that shirt..."
"Let's go, Dean," Alpha spoke to him, as if he hadn't even noticed the bartender's efforts to say something, and grabbed Dean around the shoulder.
He resisted the urge to duck his head obediently and show his neck. He was perfectly able and willing to comply, not only because his instincts told him to, but because he wasn't a complete idiot. He knew the last thing he wanted to do now was piss Alpha off even more. Being a good little Omega was literally necessary at this point, and more importantly... he felt too drunk and exhausted to resist.
He let himself be led outside the bar without protest. The cold air was like a slap in the face. It blew some of the alcohol haze out of Dean's brain and also dispelled the almond scent, making it seem weaker. Only, it really was just an appearance. Alpha continued to be on the verge of rage. He was sure of that. His eyes were closed and he was breathing slowly. A deep inhale through his nose and a slow exhale through clenched teeth, so the sound it made was something between a growl and a hiss.
He was trying to calm down.
Dean knew what he should do. His instincts told him to. It was pretty easy. Just pull Alpha's head into the crook of his neck and let him breathe in his Omega scent, which would surely calm him down. Like he did with Sam every now and then. And sometimes even with their Alpha. Only... looking at Castiel, at his tense back, clenched fists and bared teeth... felt fear. Fuck yeah. He was scared. Really fucking scared. And for the first time in a long time, he realized again what the Alpha really was and what he was probably capable of. That realization slowly rolled through his alcohol-blunted brain, along with the fear of making even one wrong move. Rather, he waited motionlessly to see what would happen and breathed slowly, ignoring the chill biting into him.
"Wait by the car," was the first intelligible sound Castiel made, formed into words, before he gave Dean one dark blue glinting look and started across the parking lot to the old Toyota.
Wait by the car? Okay, he could do that.
He looked around. The car? Sure, you couldn't miss it, because it was big, black, and looked like a diamond in the rough among all the old crap. With a stumbling yet light step, he made his way to the car.
He rested his hand on the edge of the roof. The metal structure was solid, but of course it felt a little strange to be leaning against fabric instead of solid car body. Somewhere behind him, the trunk lid slammed. He turned at the sound and got a glimpse of the Alpha walking away from the Toyota with a brisk, purposeful stride. He had the wheel wrench with him. Dean blinked and frowned. He actually had an idea what Castiel was up to, so it didn't really surprise him when he picked one car, a black sedan of some sort, and swung it with the skill of someone who was clearly not doing this for the first time.
The first shot landed
The shattering of a headlight immediately followed by a loud car alarm echoed through the parking lot. Alpha, of course, was having none of it and swung a second time to hit the other headlight with perfect accuracy. He then almost gracefully turned the wheel wrench in mid-air and placed it in the windshield with one well-aimed shot. The glass cracked all over and only a thin safety foil still held it in the frame.
Either the Alpha was satisfied or he didn't want to wait for the owner who was sure to emerge from the bar at any moment. Either way, he turned on his heel and walked quickly towards Dean. Along the way he tossed wheel wrenc to Vadim, who watched the entire outburst of rage and destruction from the Alpha with an impassive face.
"Get in."
He didn't even flinch, just quickly did as the Alpha ordered, not only instinctively but deliberately trying to keep his gaze downcast and his back hunched to look as small and harmless as possible.
The driver's door slammed as Castiel got in, bringing with him a blast of bitter rage so strong it was impossible to tell if it helped at all that he had smashed someone's car. Maybe he could read something in the man's face, but he didn't dare look at him.
"Key," he ordered, his tone full of the growl born in his chest, and held his hand out in front of Dean.
A key? What the... fuck. He drove on the way here, didn't he? Yeah, yeah, he was driving. He must have had the key... somewhere. Somewhere in his jacket, I think. He couldn't remember, so he put his hands in his pockets and started rummaging. He came across bags of lube and a box of condoms. His heart sped up. And for a brief moment, he forgot what he was looking for in his pockets. Instead, he cast a quick glance at Alpha. The latter's expression was tautly cold, his eyes icy and his nostrils flared as he breathed rapidly. He didn't seem in the mood to go back to what they had planned earlier, and if he did...
He finally hit the key.
He quickly shoved it into Alpha's hand.
The car started just as people coming out of the front door to see whose car was whistling. The Alpha paid no attention to the emerging crowd, just put the car in gear and stepped on the gas. A few turns of the wheel, they slid smoothly across the parking lot and were on the road. Dean still managed to cast a quick glance over his shoulder, thinking he might have seen Beta from the bar by the smashed car. Though it could have been someone else, too. He wasn't sure, and they'd hit the road so fast he hadn't had time to check.
The lights passed quickly outside the window, overtaking one car after another and blowing through several traffic lights on orange. It wasn't like the Impala, though. He didn't recognize every honk or feel every turn of the steering wheel, he was absolutely sure they were accelerating. They were probably already well over the speed limit, and the brutal way the Alpha was overtaking the other cars was fine too.
Normally he didn't mind driving fast, but driving fast in the city. That was different. They weren't going straight. They were swerving, the cars honking around them, the neon signs and illuminated advertisements looked like blurs, and the way the car was going was so light it made it feel like they were flying. He hated flying. He wasn't some damn bird.
He dug his fingers into the seat and tried to breathe through his nose at the nauseous feeling that rose up his spine and threatened to settle in his stomach. He preferred to close his eyes. Not that it would do any good. The world was spinning even with only the darkness of his own eyelids in front of him.
He found himself pushed into the seat by a force and then thrown violently forward.
He quickly opened his eyes to find that for perhaps the first time in a while they had stopped at a red light. He was a little relieved, but only a little. A deep breath only brought him another gust of Alf's bitter anger. Though not quite as strong. Maybe... He turned slowly towards him.
Castiel's expression was still impassive, his lips tightly pressed together, but he was no longer panting as if he'd just run a marathon, and overall he exuded less aggression than he had a moment ago.
Dean licked his dry lips.
Should he break the silence? He wasn't sure, and he wasn't thinking at all. His brain was still foggy and his stomach was churning on water from the devilish ride and all the shots.
"Where... are we going?"
His own voice scared him so much he almost crouched.
"Home," the Alpha snapped; Dean froze. It was then that Castiel looked at him for the first time since leaving the parking lot, and his expression suddenly softened. His mouth slackened, his eyelids drooped, and he let out a long exhale. "We're going to my place. As promised." His hand moved to Dean's knee. "We won't spoil tonight," he added, leaning in to press his lips, moist and warm, against his jaw.
He closed his eyes under the touch, exhaled, and tilted his head to give Alf better access. Taking that as a challenge he strayed his lips higher up to Dean's lobe and his hand... He opened his eyes sharply as a hot, heavy, large hand clamped over his cock without any introduction. It didn't hurt, but it wasn't gentle let alone pleasant. When his hand shot out to stop Alpha's rough palm, it was more of a reflex and a bit of a futile attempt too. Even at his best, he probably wouldn't have had a chance to push his hand away. Now he felt all covered by the heavy blanket and his fingers were clumsy.
"Perfect. Just as I thought," he muttered a compliment in his ear that he barely noticed.
There was only one thing he could focus on, and that was the feeling that his sensitive and currently completely soft vessel might be crushed by the force of the Alpha, who was still reeking with rage.
"Oh... gently, tiger. Gently... Sensitive places," he muttered in an attempt to turn it into a joke, but his heart began to beat wildly.
He could feel Castiel's smile on his face.
"You can lift my spirits in so many ways..." the Alpha growled, squeezing his cock again, probably to indicate that this was one of them.
He bit his lip to stifle a gasp that was sure to be anything but aroused, and he could barely control himself from digging his nails into Castiel's forearm. What he couldn't prevent was his legs clamping together in an attempt to protect the sensitive areas that had been so roughly handled.
"Alpha..." he breathed through dry, stiff lips.
Suddenly, before he could say more, the intruding hand was gone and Alpha with it.
Dean had perhaps never been so glad in his life that the light had turned green. But the feeling of relief lasted only until the car started up again, violently. He grabbed the door handle. And he cast a quick glance at Castiel.
In the few weeks they'd known each other, the Alpha had surprised him more than once, and he'd managed to learn a few things about him, too. Alpha was fucking dangerous, murderous, domineering, rich, sometimes weird, knew nothing about movies, and... wasn't gentle even at his very best. Now was not his finest moment. He was always on edge. He was always on tenterhooks. And Dean... suddenly felt like he was back to square one. He was sitting in the back seat of a huge Mercedes again, squeezed into the corner of the seat and being driven by a complete stranger in an Alpha to somewhere unknown, where he was going to be thrown on a bed and get a knot in his ass whether he wanted it or not. And there was nothing at all exciting about it.
A heavy weight settled in his stomach.
His brain raced lazily but purposefully, providing the worst possible scenarios of the Alpha throwing him on the floor just outside his apartment door, pulling down his pants just enough and fucking him without the slightest preparation. Just like that. Just to get the pent-up furious energy out of him.
He closed his eyes.
God... He hoped he could handle Alpha at least long enough to use something from his pocket. Fuck condoms, but the other one... He doubted he could get wet enough. He felt terrible. Like, really bad. He was hot and cold all at once, the world was spinning even though his eyes were closed and...
He opened his eyes sharply.
He felt bile in his throat and his mouth began to fill with saliva. He knew very well what that meant. The contents of his stomach decided to take a trip. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. He couldn't puke on Alf's expensive car.
"Stop!"
"Chto?"
"Stop! Fucking stop!" He managed to get out before he had to press his hand to his mouth.
He registered that the car had pulled up to the curb but hadn't quite stopped when he blindly groped for the handle, yanked the door open, and nearly fell out. He helped himself with his free hand, scrambled to a more or less upright position, and then lurched forward on wobbly legs toward the gray stone wall.
He dropped to all fours and successfully parted with a burger, fries, roasted almonds, two shots of tequila, a couple of beers and some Jim Bean.
His whole body was shaking from the exertion. Tears stung his eyes and his mouth was filled with a foul aftertaste. He felt terrible, even worse than he had a moment ago, but he still noticed the approaching footsteps. Unconsciously, he wondered what the Alpha would do now. Before he could think about it, the smell of vomit and the foul taste diluted with saliva caused his stomach to rise again.
A warm hand pressed against his forehead, preventing him from hitting his head against the granite wall. The other wrapped around his back to his stomach. The alpha held him tight and didn't let go as he turned his stomach inside out for the second time. Thankfully it was shorter that time and only juices and more booze came out, but it was still awful. He didn't want to experience it a third time, so he tried to breathe out the pain in his throat and the feeling of nausea mostly through his mouth. He couldn't smell the sour smell again, or the stench of beer that wafted from Castiel.
"Are you finished?" a voice near his ear asked.
"Yeah... I guess I am," he replied shakily.
"Okay. Get up," Alpha ordered, pulling him to his feet along with him.
He allowed himself to be manhandled as he didn't have the strength to resist, plus Alpha had him leaning against the wall a few feet away from the vomit, so he was quite content with his whereabouts.
"Sit down and stay. I'll be right back."
He obeyed the next command almost happily. He slid down the cold stone and sat on the equally cold ground. The chill did seep into his body through his jeans, and even the air he breathed was almost icy, but it wasn't actually uncomfortable. It cooled his heated body and helped to dispel the nausea a bit as well as focus his thoughts.
He looked around him.
It didn't look like some nice, rich residential area around here, but more like a business district. Wide streets with no hint of green, fucking tall buildings made of glass and granite, and nothing else or interesting anywhere in sight. Just Alpha's Maserati, sitting blinking and open just a short distance from the parking meter. And the Alpha nowhere in sight. A small shiver of panic ran through his body and his Omega, faint and confused, whimpered desperately in fear that the Alpha had abandoned him. But no, that was bullshit. He had a car here. He might have left without Dean, but he certainly wouldn't have left the car.
He let out a sigh of relief and closed his eyes.
"Dean!"Someone said his name really loud and a hand landed on his shoulder.
He quickly opened his eyes and looked out into the dark blue depths that were staring back at him. Wow... where did Castiel come from all of a sudden? He hadn't seen or heard him coming at all. He must have fallen asleep or something.
"Rinse your mouth and take a drink," the Alpha instructed him as he pressed an open bottle of water into his hand.
He stared at it in confusion for a moment before he got it all figured out and then took a grateful sip. He rinsed off the remnants of his food and the aftertaste of the alcohol and spat it all out onto the ground beside him. God, that was such a relief. He put the bottle to his lips again and took a deep drink.
"Don't swallow. Otherwise you'll throw up again."
He obeyed, or at least tried to swallow smaller sips. Still, he poured the bottle into himself in record time. And when he finished it with a sigh of relief, he finally got a good look at Castiel. He was squatting at his side, oddly enough wearing a jacket, his lips drawn into a stern line and his eyes cold and impassive in the light of the street lamps. Dean allowed himself one sniff, where he even leaned forward a little, and had to conclude that the Alpha was still angry. How could he not be, too?
Everything was fucked up.
First someone had thrown a beer down his throat, then the same asshole had insulted him, and then... He remembered his own behavior and Beta's word about knotless. And yeah, he had to give him the benefit of the doubt. What the fuck was he even thinking, getting in Alf's way when he wanted to settle a score with Beta? He couldn't imagine Alpha liking being humiliated by Omega protecting him. And to make matters worse, Dean had ended up nearly puking all over the beautiful leather upholstery in his brand new car. All that was left was fucking, but that was probably out of the question too, because he probably didn't look very attractive. And he certainly didn't smell good either. As far as he could assess his own smell, he reeked of fear, pain, vomit, and beer. Not much of a combination.
In sum, most of today's shit - in one way or another, intentional or unintentional - was his fault.
"Sorry, Alpha," he said, giving in to the urge to apologize for everything that had happened today.
"It's not your fault, it's mine," Castiel said, much to his surprise. "I should have realized that as an Omega, you can't handle as much alcohol as I can. Or a Beta."
That was a load of bullshit again. Omegas could drink just like everyone else. But he didn't have the strength or the will to argue about it. All he wanted... needed... in his heart was for his Alpha to stop being angry with him. He wasn't drunk or tired enough to not realize how pathetic that need was, but that didn't mean he stopped feeling it.
He shook his head.
"Not for... vomiting. Well, not just for it. For everything... for what I did in the bar..."
The alpha tilted his head in incomprehension.
"What did you do?"
"I know you don't need... protection... you know from Omega and all... I just..."
"Dean. Look at me!" Alpha ordered, but he didn't wait for him to obey, just cupped his chin between his thumb and forefinger and forced him to look up into his eyes. "Don't ever apologize for protecting yourself, me, or our pups. Never!"
He blinked in confusion. Puppies? Hmm, okay, that was a bit... yeah, he wasn't going to think about that. And the other one was... what?
"You're an Alpha, it's just... it must be... um... humiliating to be protected by just... an Omega. Like he said... knotless and stuff," he was half aware that he was babbling, and also a little taken aback when he actually scolded the Alpha, but it wasn't like he was telling him he didn't have a proper knot. That wasn't what he meant. And he hoped Cas understood.
"That Beta is an idiot, and any Alpha who doesn't appreciate the protection of his Omega is an idiot too. In my country... in Russia..." he moved his hand to Dean's cheek, but continued to hold it so they had to stare into each other's eyes. "Our Omegas and women can take care of themselves. They are fierce and tough, not like here in America. The Omegas here are pampered like greenhouse orchids. They're not to be looked at unfairly." He grinned one corner of his lips, half disgusted and half amused. "Russian Alphas appreciate strong Mate. I appreciate my strong Mate. I am yours, as you are mine, and if you ever see a danger, do not hesitate to remove it by any means necessary. Whatever you do, you will never humiliate me. I will be proud of you."
He knew it was just bullshit, but it was bullshit that was very nice to listen to, especially with his head buzzing like a beehive and Alf's voice so soothing in its dominance. He leaned back into the warm palm of his hand with a sigh, not even minding that it smelled like beer. He could have easily cuddled Alf's hand for hours.
"Dean!" A caressing hand patted his cheek. "Don't sleep, Omega. And get up."
Getting up was the last thing he wanted to do, but he didn't have a choice because Castiel wasn't going to wait for him to get up on his own and just grabbed him in his armpits and lifted him to his feet like he didn't weigh a pound.
"Are you going to puke some more?" He asked the tricky question.
Dean thought hard, checked the feeling in his stomach - it was sore and a little lurching, but also empty - and found that it was already good.
"I don't have anything..."
The alpha measured him critically, but probably concluded that not having anything to throw up was guarantee enough that he wouldn't throw up again, and wrapped his arms around his waist and led him to the car. He obediently slid into it and leaned back into the nice warm heated seat.
He turned at the creak of leather as Castiel settled into the driver's seat. As he slammed the door behind him, most of the lights went out, practically, except for one small light on the ceiling and the glowing alarms behind the steering wheel, even the brightness of the touch screen faded. What remained was mainly the light of street lamps and some glowing shop windows on the other side of the wide street, which filtered through the dark glass of the car. In that light, the Alpha had an aristocratic profile and an eagle nose or some shit like that he'd learned about in the English class he'd taken with some young, not yet internally dead professor at his last school. According to Dean, Castiel just looked stern and angry.
"You're still mad?" He asked, because he couldn't keep his mouth shut.
The alpha gave him an oblique look.
"Less so, but yes."
"Do you want to make you feel better?" He let out another question, a suggestion really, and then bit his lip.
It was a stupid idea, and from the flat expression he turned towards him, Castiel thought so too, but... It didn't matter what he was told, he got the impression that at least some of the shit that happened today was his fault. And he wanted to make it up to Alf. At the very least, he could blame him for not doing anything right today. He didn't even feel in any condition to get down on all fours and let Alpha do the rest of the work, so...
He used the dashboard for support and shifted in his seat so he could lean comfortably against Castiel's crotch.
"Actually... I've never... you know..." he reached for the simple belt buckle and managed to undo it surprisingly smoothly for not feeling his fingers. "So just... if I was doing it wrong... just tell me, okay?"
The button loosened with some difficulty, but eventually the parchment slipped through the hole and the zipper went on easily after that. Dean was sort of trying not to rub himself completely against the fabric the whole time, but it was hard. He stumbled a few times on Alf's cock, which, at least on those fleeting touches, seemed quite soft, but still impressive. And through the thin fabric of the white boxers that appeared in the open fly, warmth radiated into Daen's hands. And the scent was rising. An incredible, exquisite, musky scent that was almost as strong as the one on Castiel's neck. It made his saliva pool.
He leaned toward it, purely on instinct, just to breathe it in, and the world crumpled before his eyes. A large, firm hand settled on the back of his head, its grip preventing him from smashing his face humiliatingly right between Castiel's spread legs.
Under the weight of the hand, he closed his eyes and remained in anticipation of what was about to happen.
He assumed that now Alpha would pull out his cock and while holding it by the throat, simply fuck his mouth. Somehow that seemed like the best idea too. Even when he was completely sober he didn't know what to do, and now he was feeling too lightheaded to think about giving a proper blowjob.
He didn't expect the Alpha to lift his head.
"Sit on the seat and buckle up," he ordered, letting go.
He blinked in confusion, but started to do as he was ordered. It wasn't until he was groping for the belt, a little late, that it dawned on him what had actually happened. The alpha didn't want a blow job. The alpha refused it. And that was... oh, well, wow. The anguished whimpering of his Omega caught up with him somehow belatedly, but that didn't make it any less unpleasant.
"You don't want to...?" He asked, his own voice sounding like a humiliating whine.
Castiel looked up from fastening his belt, a frown on his face, but when their gazes met, Alf's face melted a little. The tension around his lips remained, yes, but he didn't look angry, more tired.
"Za chto ty menya nakazyvayesh'...?" he muttered something in his tongue that sounded resigned, rubbing the bridge of his nose before looking up at Dean again. "I want to, but not when you're threatening to puking in my pants. Now buckle up."
Yeah... that made sense even to his sleepy brain, but... oh there was another option. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a small bag of lube.
"I got this..." He triumphantly showed it to Alf. "Can I at least..." He made a hand gesture eloquent enough for everyone to understand each other.
Castiel did not look pleased.
"Do as you're told, Omega."
He winced a little under the sternness in his tone, quickly shoving the pouch back into his pocket and reaching for his belt. One click and he was strapped firmly into the heated seat. The alpha gave an approving grunt, then shifted into gear and slid away from the curb back into traffic.
Dean's eyelids were suddenly heavy and the light coming through the windshield a little uncomfortable, so he decided to close them for a moment. Wherever they were going, Alpha would be sure to let him know when they got there.
Dictionary: Moy prekrasnyy… Moy sladkiy Omega… Tol'ko moy… - My beautiful... my sweet Omega... only mine Chto - What? Za chto ty menya nakazyvayesh'...? - What are you punishing me for? Notes: I have no regrets. Dean has no stamina whatsoever. If he wants to stay with Castiel, he's gonna have to toughen up his liver. :-D
