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The Thursday Chronicles

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The place was grimy and smelled of dust. It was suffocating. Half of the walls in the small place had its yellow-ish paint peeling off the walls, while the bare ancient wood floors creaked under any pressure. The undercover agent lay on the sofa bed as he stared at the popcorn ceiling.

Everything was falling into place. Dean had to be patient and this case was one of the worst he had seen. The agent could never forget the horrific things he had witnessed. He had learned to seal himself off from the gruesome and inhuman things he witnessed daily. However he could not understand how people could be so inexplicably sick and twisted that they needed to hurt children. For sexual gratification no less. His heart ached no matter how many times he had seen something ‘worse’, no matter how many years he had been working on the undercover stings to stop these monsters from continuing their evil agendas against defenseless kids… It made him want to eradicate all of them. Every single one of these pieces of garbage he met and had to deal with, he wanted to personally end them. It would only solve things temporarily. When it came to these kinds of organizations with sickos at the wheel when you took off a lackey’s head, two other would grow in its place. The truth was that the funding and the brains of these operations always came from much higher up in the food chain.

Dean’s mind wandered back to the case that had truly tested him in every way some years ago. It had challenged the agent’s resolve, he had been subjected to true evil. Dean had to act like he was indifferent. There was nothing that could ever prepare a person to encounter thirteen year olds being raped, passed around like toys. They were beaten and chained like dogs. Some of the kids never even made a sound and Dean’s willpower had been severely tested. It had showed him that this was a regular occurrence. The first time Dean had witnessed it personally during that three year stint, he had managed to slip out and emptied the contents of his stomach in the bushes.

Those three years had changed him. The agent had seen and dealt with underage victim cases ever since he had gotten out of the academy. However, that case had showed him what real evil was. Child pornography was a 1 billion dollar industry. It was sickening to know that not only in the United States, but across the world, such a thing brought so many disturbed individuals to light. There had been countless videos of child rape. There had even been actual murders of children taped. However, Dean hadn’t been present for those. He still had managed to find the names of the monsters starring on those videos. Seeing terrified children being abused was true hell. It showed what the human race was capable of. It made Dean all the more determined to put a stop to as many of the sick bastards he could find.

Dean was known as Abel O’Connor in the underworld. He had mentally prepared himself long ago to slip into this ‘character’s’ skin and be what he was supposed to be. A criminal with a rap sheet as long as he was tall. He kept a full beard, dressed in only denim shirts and jeans and took shit from no one. The agent had been in situations where it was vital he make a point, fit in, show he was one of the monsters. ‘Abel’ had been able to do so by taking out his disgust and hatred on other scum. Dean had beaten men to within an inch of their lives. Dean showed ruthlessness and cunning operation tactics among the sharks to show them he was no shrinking violet. The agent had been able to make an impression over the years of undercover work. This ‘character’ that was Able O’Connor was known to be reliable for whatever jobs the organization had. Whatever he was involved in only enabled him to collect data, gather key information that he needed and then dropped it to his handler. Careful was an understatement. Dean couldn’t just meet up with his handler and pass information. Too easy to be spotted and forget about having ‘scheduled’ time drops. Shit didn’t work that way. Dean was part of The Violent Criminal Apprehension Program (ViCAP). It was a unit of the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation responsible for the analysis of serial violent and sexual crimes. Dean tended to work closely with Interpol because child trafficking organizations tended to jump all borders. Very few people knew Dean’s real identity. Some organizations and Cartels had a habit of having people in law enforcement under their thumbs. However, it was rarely ever by choice. They would use law enforcement officers’ families against them. Any local law enforcement assisting could never know there was an undercover fed involved.

Dean had always been smart about his investigation progress with the ever so sensitive material. The fact that he could be killed without a second thought always made him extra diligent when it came to his cover. The constant reminder that helpless children were unknowingly counting on him to save them, pushed him forward and kept himself going.

The agent had discovered early on, that some of the teens in this environment had no idea they were victims of trafficking. Some had turned to prostitution as early as twelve years of age just to eat. While others were coerced into it by friends or even worse, actual family members. For Dean it didn’t matter why or how but the end goal was the same: making sure these children had a chance at an actual life. A healthy one. He wasn’t sure most even knew what that was. Some had been victims for so long. They had no clue that life didn’t have to be this horrific nightmare.

Most of the time, the victims didn’t necessarily know either their final destinations or what lay ahead for them. Some were sold to families as child slaves to work as housekeepers, cooks...Those were the lucky ones. Some would be moved from ‘home’ to ‘home’ and used for as long as the perp had the funds. While others were readily given to other monsters for much darker ‘needs’. All Dean wanted and all he worked for was to end the nightmares for the young ones. As a Federal agent, Dean was a ‘collector’ and he was damn good at his job. Over his twelve year career Dean ‘Abel O’Connor’ Winchester had successfully closed down seventeen organizations on different levels. Dean had saved over three thousand children and had taken part in the crucial arrests of over seven hundred monsters. Among those arrested were school teachers, doctors,nurses, a few law enforcement personnel, pastors, and priests. There had even been a few foster parents. All the types of people innocent little ones were taught to trust. It enraged Dean. He had taken to drinking heavily not long after his very first case in the field.

The worst victim Dean had come across had been a nine year old boy. The images of the boy screaming and begging for the men - that had been old enough to be his grandfathers - to stop. They had passed him around and shared him sexually until the poor kid had blacked out. Those events had forever been burned into Dean’s brain. He would never forget them. The small consolation from that horrific case was when Dean had been able to free him. The lil boy had been taken from a park and had been returned to his distraught family. However, he couldn’t even begin to imagine the trauma the boy had lived through beyond what he had witnessed. How much therapy the boy would need and most likely for the rest of his life.

During the wrap up, ‘Abel’ had been able to put a bullet through the skull of the monster that had taken the boy in the first place and condemned him to that life. He had been the first one to rape the boy. Abel had happily taken him out during the raid.

During those three years Dean had collected names, addresses, front businesses, and as many names of the kids he could manage, along with as many recordings, audio and video he could manage without compromising himself, the kids or the operation. He had managed to climb up high enough in the food chain to get the needed info on the men leading the organizations. The procedure with Dean’s alias as Abel O’Connor also came with the routine of him being arrested. In some occasions he would fake fight someone and escape if he was with other criminals to witness. This added to his credibility. This kept suspicion to a minimum. He also had to endure periods in lockup to keep his cover, and then he would be released on “technicalities”.

If you looked up Abel O’Connor, you would find his mug shot. Of course a few things were changed to protect his true identity. He was said to have ginger hair and beard instead of tawny. Had grey eyes (contacts) instead of his moss green ones, and he measured six foot instead of his actual six foot two.

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Dean had been specially trained by two of the best undercover veterans there ever were, Robert Singer and Rufus Turner. Dean had showed serious promise in the academy for undercover work and his degree in child psychology gave him an edge. From day one he had been trained for all kinds of operations. He was a weapons expert and top of his class. Robert- who anyone that knew him referred to him as ‘Bobby’- had told him he was a natural. Dean could fit into any situation. He had an ability to make anyone believe him and like him. He was charismatic and smart, yet knew how to play on what people wanted to hear. Dean knew how to adapt easily to any situation. He had graduated and began his mission to merge into the underground world as a fresh faced twenty three year old.

Dean had always been a survivor and that would never change. Raised in a family of cops, he had always known being an officer or agent was what he wanted to do. Both sets of grandparents had worked in law enforcement. His father John had been a homicide detective for over twenty five years before he retired while his mother Mary had worked in forensic for fifteen years before she had also taken her retirement. Even Dean’s younger brother had been going into the force, but Sam had shown much more strength in law. He was presently a federal prosecutor. Dean was proud, he set the perps up and Sam would lock them up. Dean was closer to his father while Sam was closer to their mother.

During the time of the three year sting, Dean had been married to Lisa Braeden. They had met and married when Dean was 26. Lisa was an E.R. nurse and their six year marriage had barely held on while Dean had been undercover for the three last years of it. No contact between them because it could endanger him or his family. By the time Dean was 32, he and Lisa had already been living apart, divorce papers filed. He had then met the love of his life during that six months reprieve after the major case.

Castiel Novak, a shy and beautiful man had spun Dean’s head one day while he was jogging in the park. Dean had found himself seeking the pretty man out after that. Every morning for weeks the agent would see him until finally he had given in and reached out to talk to him. The odd thing for Dean was that he had never been attracted to men, he still wasn’t. It was just Castiel. He honestly didn’t think it mattered what sex Castiel was, there was just something about him that made Dean want in every sense of the word. He had never been able to figure out what it was exactly about Castiel that had bewitched him. Physically his lover was perfect. Lean runner's body with bite worthy thighs and an ass to kill for. Castiel was smaller and had a smile that lit up Dean’s world. He had dark unruly hair that never stayed combed and impossibly electric blue eyes that owned his soul. He was shy and sweet. Attentive, yet didn’t put up with Dean’s bullshit. The thought of his husband of now five years made Dean long for him. Nine months was much too long to be away from such a sweet and loving creature. Dean dreamed of him every night and he sincerely hoped that his last drop was the nail in the coffin.

This recent job had been vastly different than the three year one that would always haunt him. For the last nine months Dean had been part of a coyote pack. He was only the driver however, he never had been tasked to handle the ‘merchandise’. The agent had driven to and from meeting points for drop off and pick ups, and every time he had taken notes of the routine the coyotes tended to keep. They never stayed in one place long and tended to take place in more than one state. So far he had hopped three states. Dean was just thankful he was as far away from home as possible.

Dean stared at the ceiling. The one lone fan with dust collected on the panels swaying as it spun. He glanced outside the dirty single hung window to his left. Dean was just starting to wonder what his love was doing when he saw the flashing lights. Red and blue followed by the unmistakable sound of sirens. The agent sat up on the lumpy and run down bed and mentally slipped himself back into Abel mode. The door to his shabby sleeping quarters was kicked in second later and the small room was filled with SWAT screaming at him to get on the floor.

If everything went according to plan, over two hundred kids would be rescued and many pieces of garbage would be getting arrested in the next few hours. Abel looked forward to seeing inside of a jail cell. It only meant he was that closer to going home and holding his husband in time for their anniversary.

Chapter Text

//&// Looming near the cave entrance, rays of golden sunlight streaming in, Cathaldus stretches. The storm has been silenced and he can already feel the familiar tingle in his wings as they flutter in desperation to feel the sun again. He gives them a shake, flapping and stretching outwards before once again pulling them around him tightly to feel their warmth. Deasun’s cloak weighs heavy against his skin, worn but soft from rubbing against Deasun’s armor plates as he pulls it closer. The garment still smells of the Esu, reminding the lonely Ceo of smoke and the smell of charcoal. It makes his chest tighten, his entire being aching to once again embrace the male close against him.

He already misses Deasun, misses the feel of him against his flesh. They have come together as one despite their species now and to the Ceo, nothing has ever been more sacred or beautiful. They’re bonded now, a link so deep that only death can take it away but even then, he knows he would try to find a way to fight such a thing. Cathaldus feels his essence stir within.

There’s a new power that thrums inside of him, something darker that flows through his veins that seems to complement his Ceo nature, despite feeling like Deasun’s magic. He wonders if Deasun feels it as well, the thrum inside of him that’s lighter, that pulls at the feelings Esu usually don’t have that Cathaldus has brought out in him. The warrior once again scans the horizon as it bathes in the golden light.

Somewhere down past the village Deasun should be long gone now, with an empty body, a shell of their manifested power and illusion identical to that of the Ceo Prince. Deasun would be heading over to the surrounding ridges of snow and rock before dark. Cathaldus hopes the cloak he fused with some of his lesser feathers is enough to keep his lover warm, worried Deasun may still freeze. Now all there is to do is wait as Cathaldus is unable to help against an entire kingdom. The Ceo knows deep inside that his arrival would never let anyone believe the body was him, that he was slain by the Esu and drained of all his blood. Still, he wishes he could help. He hates feeling as though he has let the former prince down.

Snow covers the village roofs, ice hanging from their dwellings, as Cathaldus steps out into the freshly fallen snow. The villagers below know what to look for, know to signal them should anyone but he and Deasun approach.

The pair took a great risk in revealing themselves here, but word of their deeds had spread quietly through the Neutrals--they had been deemed their warriors, unable to fight for themselves but hopeful they would continue to find a solution somehow. Cathaldus hopes that in the end, their efforts don't fall short or disappoint them. After all, he is grateful of their love, their happiness and what he has found with Deasun--but he still has to make things right and if they once again take their thrones and ascend, then they will unite this world, together. As equals, not enemies.

Unfolding his wings, bathed in the sunlight, Cathaldus closes his eyes as he can do nothing but wait. The warmth makes him grateful. He was sick of laying on the cavern floor on animal pelts without Deasun to curl into. He breathes in deeply.

Should Deasun manage his escape with Imp when he frees her, from here they would leave together--find another place to hide. In the meantime, however, he’s still required to meet his own needs. Cathaldus sighs, swallowing his emotions as he sheathes his sword. His stomach growls. Perhaps he could find a hare or some of the Iris berries that seem to still grow up here, despite the cold.

Venturing out of their hideaway, Cathaldus follows the illuminating skyline as his wings drag behind him. It’s quiet, the wind howling through the space between the large towering rock faces as the new powder swirls in sparkling ribbons around him. It’s beautiful here, the land above and below him, still and calm. Everything is open to an arctic sky that matches the blue in his eyes.

Perhaps hunting would ease his weary mind. He secures his bow and sword, Deasun’s small blade and begins his search. //&//

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Castiel glanced out the high window. The snow left tiny ice crystals against the glass, showing just how cold it was outside. It was also pitch black out. The street lamps too far away to leave any kind of glow towards the house.

His eyes wouldn’t stay open any longer. His body ached from sitting too long and a slight headache had started dancing around his temples. Castiel quickly saved his latest contributions to his current work in progress for the eleventh installment in his series and turned everything in his home office off. It was almost eleven o'clock as Castiel made his way up the winding stairs and towards the kitchen. The whole house was quiet and dark. The only sound was the humming of the furnace to keep the three story townhouse in downtown New York, warm during the freezing month of February.

Castiel hated that it had been another Christmas and New Years without his lover. Another birthday he couldn’t tell his husband how much he loved him. Nine months gone already and it felt like forever. He tried not to think about it or dwell on his worries for his husband’s dangerous job. The writer couldn’t really help his thoughts. This was one of the longest cases Dean was gone for. He couldn’t stop the haunting thoughts that gripped him at times. Dean couldn’t be in contact with him, couldn’t have his wedding ring with him, couldn’t have his personal cell phone, couldn’t come home every night.

Castiel took a deep breath as he closed his eyes. All he could see was Dean, smiling and winking at him. His smooth and deep southern drawl telling him he loved him, and that everything was ok.

The author went to the refrigerator, got a glass of water before he headed up the stairway to the bedroom. He passed the hallways decorated with pictures of their wedding. The pictures depicting them on the mountain side up state. The setting had been outside in the open during winter time. Dean had insisted on taking as many pictures as he could with his camera. An amateur photographer at heart. It made Castiel smirk every time.

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His then to be hubby had taken pictures of the venue during light hours and at dusk. As he let his fingertips lightly touch the framed picture, he could remember the fresh pine and snow scent on the chilly day. The breathtaking view of the surrounding mountains . He and Dean’s cheeks tinted pink from the cool air. The day had been beautiful and perfect. He had been giddy with joy and shamelessly ecstatic. He never thought he would ever get married. Everything had been so surreal, like a fairy-tale for him. The three tier salted caramel and vanilla cake. His pine-cones and baby’s breath bouquet. The quaint and simple reception. Everything had been like a dream. They had secretly eloped. They had each invited only three people. People who they both knew approved of them taking such a step within a year of meeting. Dean invited his brother Sam, and his two best friends , Benny Lafitte and Charlie Bradbury. While Castiel had invited his best friends Inias Sky and Meg Masters along with his cousin Alfie Novak.

Dean could be extremely romantic and had taken pictures of the bath they had shared their wedding night along with the bear rug in front of the fireplace where they had made love as husbands. Even after five years he could remember just how soft the bear rug had felt under his heated skin as his new husband had taken him apart ever so slowly until he had been completely wrecked in an ecstasy filled haze.

Castiel glided his fingers over the framed picture of their winter socks covered feet and the outside booted one. Dean had taken his camera with him every where and had taken these two snapshots which he had then beamed about how much he liked their cozy feet together, both times in front of a fire. Their two week long honeymoon had consisted of a week in the romantic lodge cabin while the following had been camping in winter. They had barely left the bedroom and tent.

He remembered when they had returned to the city. The writer remembered how his mother had given one of her overly dramatic acts. Laying on the guilt until Castiel felt like he had been buried beneath the polished floors of his parent’s estate. He was always and ever the disappointment of his family. The baby of three, Castiel just never measured up to his parent’s expectations. Nothing was ever enough for them, especially for his overbearing mother. She loathed Dean and the feeling was mutual. Castiel’s siblings, Hester and Gabriel, also did not care for his husband. Hester didn’t actually have anything against him, she had never even met Dean. She hadn’t even bothered an attempt to meet his husband in the last five years they’ve been together. The eldest Novak didn’t care had an extremely successful career as a property investor and only spoke to their mother. Gabriel on the other hand had very loudly opposed to the marriage. He had been livid when he had found out. Castiel had come home to find his brother in their living room demanding to know what was going on, where had he gone. Boxes had been everywhere, ready to move to the new town home he and Dean had purchased before eloping so they could move in when they returned.

Dean and Gabriel had never gotten along. Them being in the same room had even come to blows at one point. Gabriel had launched at Dean, scoring a right hook to Dean’s jaw. Castiel had been incredibly impressed by Dean’s self restraint. Dean had simply wiped the blood from his mouth and told Gabriel to get out of their house. Castiel had been playing mediator ever since. Not that there had been many occasions the two head-strong men were ever in the same room since.

Castiel’s brother just didn’t understand what they had together. Dean Winchester had dashed into his dull life and had filled it with laughter and affection in a way that Castiel had never known was possible. Only in romance novels had he found that type of connection. Until Dean. Everything wasn’t perfect, nothing was, but Castiel believed in what they had, even though in the beginning he was the biggest skeptic of all.

Tomorrow would make it five years they were married. Five years of love, happiness mixed in with fears, insecurities, and problems one never thinks of until they are front and center. It didn’t change the fact that Castiel loved his husband. More than anything.

Dean, unbeknownst to him, had inspired Castiel in his passion that had laid dormant for so long. Because of him, Castiel had been able to pour himself into his first novel. It had sat started and untouched for so long. The pages blurring between the lines every time Castiel had attempted to make another start. Then, Dean was there and it was like a fire had been lit and coursed through his veins. When the first book of the series hit the shelves, the writer had never imagined in his wildest dreams the amount of success it had brought forth.

Before Castiel knew it, the second, third, fourth and so on had rolled out of him like a tidal wave. He had somehow managed a new book every six months. It wasn’t until he had reached the eighth book in his series that he had realized just how much his life bled into the books, into the love affair between his two male characters, the Angel which loosely represented him and the Demon that was Dean inspired. When Castiel had realized what he had been doing he laughed and kissed the book.

His husband of course had no idea. Dean wasn’t one for reading novels. He read reports and case files. Castiel didn’t mind. It felt like it was a secret letter to his husband and that maybe one day, Dean would read and realize it.

Castiel walked into their bedroom and made sure the fireplace was working. The nights could get down into freezing temperatures and without Dean to hold him to keep him warm, he needed to be sure he wouldn’t get sick. Once satisfied the low fire was good to keep steady, he turned and eyed the armoire. He made his way over to it, noting he needed new house slippers as he could feel how cold the wood floor was through the old soot colored bedroom ones on his feet. He opened the armoire doors and glanced on the left side of the hanging shirts, looking for his husbands oldest t-shirt. A tri blend grey shirt with a faded ‘Chevrolet’ logo on its front.

He pulled the shirt out and held it against his nose. He knew he was being ridiculous but he swore the shirt still smelled like Dean, even after so many months since he had worn it. Dean’s peppermint aftershave, the ever present scent of gunpowder and roasted coffee greeted his nose and Castiel inhaled it all deeply. Tears collected in his lashes. He missed his lover dearly. He quickly removed his vest and shirt in favor of wearing his husband's shirt. He closed his eyes and remembered the first time he had seen Dean wear this shirt. It had been the day they met. Dean had been on a leave of six months between cases.


~^~ Castiel had always loved jogging through the park at dawn. He knew most of the other regulars that frequented the park around the same time by sight. Some would wave, smile or nod their hellos as they passed him. The parents getting their exercises while pushing their little one’s strollers. The marathon cyclist molded to their bikes on the pathway. The same elder couple that sat on the west sided park bench to feed the squirrels and pigeons. Central Park was always beautiful during Fall. It was Castiel favorite time of the year. The mornings were just warm enough to wear his navy runner’s shorts, yet cool enough to wear a long sleeved shirt.

He had just changed the song on his iPod to ‘can't fight the feelin’ by Justin Timberlake, when he saw HIM again, coming towards him. For the last four weeks, a new addition to the park had started to appear on Castiel’s regular morning run. This ruggedly handsome man that would cross paths with him as they jogged. Castiel hadn’t been able to really stop himself from appreciating the man’s movie star looks every time he saw him. The man always flashed him a gorgeous smile that was all white and sharp canine teeth that made the writer’s knees feel weak. Tall with broad and strong looking shoulders that linked to muscled arms and forearms that made Castiel’s mouth run dry. He had light brown hair that seemed perfectly spiked regardless of the fact he was exercising and seemed to favor keeping a light scruff on his face while Castiel liked his own face baby soft. The handsome stranger always had on some kind of logo or band t-shirt with drawstring sweatpants that had the old school white stripes on the sides. Today he wore the dark stone grey sweats with a grey t-shirt that bore a ‘Chevrolet’ logo on its chest.

Castiel’s favorite part of the man were his eyes. These mystical moss green eyes that bore into Castiel every time their gazes met. He swore he could feel the heat from them every time. He also knew damn well that every time they saw each other, he was left blushing like a schoolgirl. Castiel couldn’t pretend that he hadn’t started to look forward to his morning runs even more so now knowing chance he would see HIM.

They jogged past each other then. Those fern colored eyes assessed him once more and as they both continued on their routes. Castiel couldn’t stop his smile. He was completely tempted to start listening to Justin Timberlake’s words and just ‘dance dance dance’ on the spot. It felt good knowing he was being checked out by such a hot stranger.

He was almost back towards the elder couple on the bench again when he felt a hand on his shoulder. He spun around completely startled. His sky blue eyes wide and confused as he met emerald green and a perfect smile facing him. Castiel practically yanked his ear buds out of his ears.

“H-Hi” He hoped his nervousness didn’t seep through.

“Hi. Look, I’m sorry if this is too forward, but, would you want to get breakfast with me?” Castiel was so shocked at the request he wasn’t able to form words. His only reaction had been his eyebrows going up in question. “Um, I’m Dean by the way”

The handsome jogger Castiel had been crushing on for the last month introduced himself and wanted to take him to breakfast. Castiel smiled.

“I’m Castiel. I’d love breakfast” ~^~


Castiel then turned to the TV on the wall, turn it on the news channel, leaving the captions running at the bottom of the screen while keeping it on mute. He couldn’t stop himself from doing this every night.

He sat on the bed, exhausted as his mind swirled with the longing that crept into every piece of his being. He rubbed his arms up and down, fraying the cold from his body when he knew the shivers he was attempting to suppress were from his need for Dean. Castiel looked at the empty space on the bed. It made his stomach feel tight and knotted. He slid his left hand absently over the cool light berry colored bedsheets. The unoccupied space was yet another reminder that Dean was out there somewhere. Risking his life, helping others that were too weak to fight back, that had no voice. It was part of why he had fallen so hard for the lawman. Dean’s need to protect and do something to make the world better was honorable and attractive… when he was home and in Castiel’s arms.

The writer knew how selfish he was being, but it didn’t help how difficult it was to be married to an officer of the law. One that ran stings, undercover operations, and would be gone for months without a word to Castiel that he was ok. Of course, Castiel knew it wasn’t because Dean didn’t want to come home, or call him and tell him he was ok and that he loved him. It was because he couldn’t. It would put Castiel and himself in danger and Dean wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if something were to happen to Castiel.

Yet, somehow, Dean still found a way to tell him he was alive. Castiel had no idea how, no matter how much he tried to figure it out. He knew damn well that Dean would never do something to endanger him, but every once in awhile, sometimes too long in between, Castiel would find a simple card in the mail box with key phrases only Dean would know, such as ‘Good Morning Sunshine’ and ‘Socks and Marshmallows’. Dean telling him he missed him, loved him from wherever he was. There was never any postal codes or stamps on the envelopes. He was sure Dean himself wasn’t the one to leave them. It constantly left him wondering who, and did that person have contact with Dean somehow.

Castiel knew that the reality of the situation was that ‘no news’ was ‘good news’. However it didn’t calm the fear in the writer’s heart that he would one day answer the door to find two uniformed officers telling him they were ‘sorry’ and that Dean wouldn’t be coming home, ever.

The writer slid under the sheet and thick blanket they had bought together on a trip to a farmer’s market and laid on his side. He faced Dean’s empty side of the bed and saw the TV in the corner of his eye at the foot of the bed. He wiped his tears and prayed Dean was safe and warm somewhere before he turned off the bedside lamp. He took a hold of Dean’s pillow and held it tightly against him as he willed his thoughts to hush and tried to surrender to sleep. Castiel stared at the last card Dean had given him It was standing on the night stand, ‘Good Morning Sunshine’ in his lover’s messy script glared back at him, making his tears swell a new as he closed his eyes tightly to sleep.




Dean made it. The rest of the small loose ends for the case were being handled and his stint was over and done. His body was sore from sleeping in a jail cell for the last 48 hours for the sake of keeping up appearances. His cover was safe. ‘Abel O'Connor’ had been arrested along with the rest of the coyotes. He helped putting an end, at least to this chapter, of child trafficking.

Dean wanted a drink after everything he had witnessed and learned. He had been unable to resist a drink a few times during this case because of the horrifying world he had been in. The things he now knew and could never forget. Castiel would be disappointed, hell, Dean was disappointed in himself. However, he had been able to limit it to two shots or drinks the few times he had given into temptation. He was home now and he would start over again. The agent didn’t care how many times he would have to go to AA meetings, how many times he would start over, not if it made Castiel happy. That was all that mattered.

He left his duffel bag in the foyer, he would deal with it tomorrow, slipped off his boots, and hung up his leather jacket. All he wanted right now was to have Cas in his arms. He was thankful he had been able to take a shower at the agents locker room after giving his report. He took the stairs two at a time, remaining silent as a mouse not to rouse and scare his sleeping husband as he slipped into their bedroom quietly.

Dean stayed in the doorway and just let his gaze flow over his resting lover. A low fire was still making shadows dance softly across the room, mixing in with the sharp flashes of light from the wall mounted TV that was still on. The captions going on steadily at the bottom of the screen as the news of a police shooting was being reported. Castiel was lying on his side, facing him as he held on to Dean’s pillow. His face buried into it, his arms relaxed yet firmly held onto the pillow.

The agent carefully walked over to the bed, keeping his eyes on Castiel’s sleeping face. The writer’s dark lashes brushed his creamy white cheeks. His lips ever so slightly opened as he slept soundly. His lover’s dark hair was a mess and all Dean wanted to do was run his fingers through it. As he got to the bed, he could just make out the tear tracks on Castiel’s cheeks and guilt hit Dean like a swift kick to the chest. He glanced over to the nightstand and saw one of his cards.

Castiel had never asked him where the cards came from or how. But after every case, Castiel would just seem to collect them and take them as a peaceful note Dean was alive. Dean’s best friend Benny was also a fed. Benny was a forensic agent that collected the data/evidence/info from the handlers of undercover feds out in the field for specific cases the precinct would work in side with the feds. Dean’s mother Mary had been the one to train him and the Cajun man had been one of the family ever since. The burly man had made a deal with Dean. Every time Dean made a connect point with his handler which was about once a month to every six weeks, he would receive a ‘drop’ from Dean’s handler, Benny would send a runner to deliver one the many cards Dean had hand written ahead of time, which Benny kept a pile of, to Castiel’s mail box. Letting him know Dean was alive. Both Dean and Benny took every precaution to make sure nothing was traced to Castiel in any shape or form.

The agent sank down to his knees on the right side of the bed and his left hand immediately reached over to caress his lover’s face. Castiel frowned in his sleep. He looked pained instead of peaceful and Dean knew it was because of him. He made him worry and the not knowing of Dean’s whereabouts and what he was doing was extremely difficult for anyone to handle. This was hard on them both. He knew how much Castiel worried about him, wanted him safe and home. Yet, the shy writer would never voice it. Never told Dean not to do his job, not to go and help others because he knew what it all meant to Dean.

Dean had been an undercover specialist fresh out of the academy at 23 and for the last thirteen years had been a successful undercover agent. As his husband’s sleepy cobalt blue eyes fluttered awake and his drowsy gaze finally focused on him, Dean decided it was time for a change. One were he wouldn’t put Castiel through this void of unknown to see if Dean would ever make it home every time he left across their threshold.

“Dean?” The writer’s sleepy voiced gasped as his eyes widened and fresh tears slid down his cheeks. The man was too damn adorable with his bed hair all over the place, dressed in his old chevy t-shirt, Dean couldn’t help but smile.

“I’m home” He whispered. As soon as the words left his lip, Castiel was across the bed and in his arms in the blink of an eye. Dean held him tightly against him. The feel of his lover in his arms was like nothing else. The solid and ever grounding weight of him, the scent of soft laundered cottons and light lilacs buried itself into Dean’s nose and he inhaled deeply. He loved his husband’s ever present mellow and soothing scent. It made Dean feel home and safe, like nothing from the outside would could ever intervene when he was here, in their house, surrounded by their things and the love of his life.

Castiel took in the gun powder and roasted coffee smell that clung to Dean’s long sleeved cedar colored shirt. Dean was home and solid, in one piece and hugging him. He looked up into the moss green eyes he loved so much and pulled his husband’s face down for much needed and overdue kiss. Dean slid one of his hands into Castiel’s dark walnut colored hair, angling his lover’s head as he pleased as he deepened the kiss. He mapped out his husband’s mouth, gaining moans from his lover. Castiel held onto his husband’s sweater, fisting his left hand in the soft material against Dean’s chest while his right hand, fingers spread was against Dean’s bearded cheek. The writer couldn’t stop himself and tugged at his husband’s facial hair.

“Ouch!” Dean growled, breaking the kiss, only to pepper several more quick ones to Castiel’s smirking lips. The fed pulled away, watching his husband downright glaring at his full ginger beard as his fingers tugged at it lightly. “I know, I know. You don’t like my beard” Dean voiced, completely amused with his lover’s unimpressed sky blue eyes that regarded his beard with complete disdain.

Castiel loved when he would leave some scruff on his cheeks but not the full beard. It tended to irritate his husband’s sensitive skin. The writer had also told him he wasn’t a fan of his beard, made him look like a completely different person. Dean smiled as he tried to kiss his lover again only to get a firm ‘no, I want to shave it off first’ from Castiel. Dean laughed and obediently followed his smaller husband into their bathroom.

Dean took off his sweater, leaving him bare chested and in his jeans. He sat on the closed toilet seat and watched his lover. Castiel slipped on his mulberry colored house robe and his soot colored slippers to keep from the shill in the bathroom. He couldn’t keep his small smile from his face as he took out Dean’s after shave, clippers and the straight bladed razor he used. He filled the sink with warm water and turned to find Dean watching him, waiting.

Castiel stepped over to Dean, standing with one of Dean’s leg between his as he started the electric clippers to remove the thickest parts of his husband’s beard. Dean tilted his head however Castiel gently moved it for access as he closed his eyes, letting his lover groom him. Dean placed his hand loosely around Castiel’s legs, needing to touch him without constricting his movements.

Very early on in their relationship, it had been quietly and quickly established that Castiel enjoyed primping Dean. Letting Castiel shave him with his straight razor had stated the obvious trust they had. Castiel’s precise and careful strokes over Dean’s most sensitive areas around his cheeks and throat, amplified the bond they shared wordlessly.

Dean’s fingers were rubbing aimlessly and ever so lightly against Castiel’s pajama pants clad legs as Castiel put aside the clippers and reached for the shaving cream. He place a generous amount around Dean’s face, gaining eyebrows wiggling at him, making him laugh at his husband’s good humor before he reached for the razor. Dean kept his moss green eyes on him as Castiel started.

As the writer proceeded to shave his husband’s face carefully, his eyes couldn’t help but wonder down to gaze at his lover’s bare chest. He could see new scars decorating his husband’s body.

He rinsed the blade and saw a new star shaped scar on Dean’s upper left chest.

Streak, rinse.

An angry looking scar on Dean’s right middle ribs, like a burn mark.

Streak, rinse.

An array of three thin lines, ran four inches across the lower side of Dean’s abs.

Every new mark he tried hard to focus back on his task at hand to finish shaving the beard.

The fed watched on as his lover’s eyes scanned his torso. He could see those impossibly bright ocean blue eyes turn haunted with worry as he had no doubt the writer wondered how he had acquired the new scars. This was a ritual whenever he returned home from a long case.

Castiel stepped away from Dean as he handed him a warm towel to remove the rest of the shaving cream. Dean threw the small towel into the laundry hamper before taking his after shave and patting some of it on. The scent of peppermint was potent in the quaint bathroom as Castiel suddenly couldn’t hold his tears any longer.

“Cas” Dean watched as his husband’s resolve crumbled and he grabbed his hands, pulling him to sit on him. Castiel straddled Dean’s legs and wrapped his arms around his husband’s neck, holding on tightly as he buried his face in the crook of Dean’s neck. The peppermint scent had been missing and now with the sense of ‘normalcy’ intact, Castiel’s emotions came forth strongly.

Dean wrapped his arms around his husband, keeping him flush against him as he repeatedly kissed his neck and shoulder.

“I love you. I’m right here, I’m safe” Dean whispered into his lover’s dark chocolate locks that smelled of apples from his shampoo.

Castiel cried against him. Relief and fear pouring out of him. Dean was safe, he was really home, really here after nine months gone. The nightmares that had haunted him. Never knowing if Dean was truly alright beside the cards he would get once in a blue moon. Left to watch the news, wondering if he would see Dean across the screen stating he was shot or worse. Praying that his husband was warm, eating and somewhere safe despite whatever case he was working on. Countless times he had wondered what would happen if Dean’s cover was compromised. How would Castiel know? What would happen to Dean?

“I’m here Cas” The fed whispered again. His strong arms grounding Castiel, reminding him Dean was home, was really here. He cried as the relief of the reality hit him again. He didn’t have to worry anymore. Dean was home. Was right here with him, holding him, letting him release all of his emotions against him.

They stayed this way, hugging and nuzzling each other for a long time. They never talked about it, about where Dean had been, what he had done and why, nor what he saw and had dealt with. There was nothing to talk about in the first place. Castiel could never know and he never would. He knew that.

After some time, when Castiel’s tears were gone, the writer lifted his head from his lover’s neck and met sorrowful and loving moss green eyes. Castiel caressed his husband’s now clean shaven face. He was solid and in one piece. Ever so handsome as he counted the freckles that decorated his nose. Dean turned his head to kiss Castiel’s hand before pulling him closer and gently kissed him. Losing his hands in the writer’s dark hair, he groaned into the kiss as his husband met his growing need with his own. The kiss turned desperate as their lips moved as one. Hands started to roam, the touches almost urgent like they felt stuck in a dream and they would wake at any moment to find the other gone.

“I love you. I’m so happy your home” Castiel whispered, taking Dean’s face in his hands to selfishly burn to memory his lover’s face.

“I had to make it home to you. You know that.” Dean started as he caressed his husband’s face, wiping away a stray tear from his soft cheek. “You are the most important thing to me. You were all I thought about when I was away” The fed stated and repeated as Castiel nodded eagerly.

“I couldn’t miss our anniversary now could I?” Dean added with a smirk, gaining a beautiful smile from his husband before he sealed their lips once more.


Chapter Text

Castiel jolted awake as strong arms wrapped around him from behind and soft pressed kisses were being planted on his neck and shoulder. The scent of peppermint graced his nose and he whimpered in elation.

Dean. Dean was really home. It hadn’t been a dream.

The writer quickly moved to turned to lay on his back as his husband moved over him and settled between his legs. Dean smiled at him, making his smaller lover feel dizzy at the brightness of it.

“Morning gorgeous” Dean’s deep southern drawl caressed the words making Castiel’s body tingle all over as Dean kissed his cheeks and nose.

Castiel caressed his lover’s face, finger tips brushing lightly over the planes of Dean’s handsome face. “Good morning Dean.”

The fed nuzzled his lover, nose to nose, brushing ever so lightly, gaining a breathtaking smile from his husband before kissing him. Dean settled his weight over Castiel as he mapped out his mouth. Their hands were lost in each other’s hair as the kiss grew passionate. Castiel closed his eyes, tilted his head back while a gasped out moan escaped him when Dean started to lick and nibble at his sensitive neck.

He wasn’t sure how long they had been sleeping. Dean had come home around three in the morning and he was presently much too distracted to look over at the alarm clock on the nightstand. However, the room was brightly lit, from the sun shining in from the windows. He had a few things scheduled today. He immediately felt guilty as he realized he hadn’t expected Dean to be home for their anniversary today. All thoughts left him as Dean grinded his hard cock against his, making him moan.

“Mmm, thought about you every night. Missed you so much, missed feeling your nails down my back.” Dean whispered between sloppy toe curling kisses. Dean’s hands were pulling up his t-shirt, momentarily breaking their kiss in favor of removing the garment. “Need you naked” Dean growled against his neck. Castiel didn’t trust his voice and could only nod quickly as he threw his shirt onto the floor as Dean yanked at his pajama pants.

Castiel pulled Dean in for a filthy open mouthed kiss as he kicked his pajama pants the rest of the way while Dean rid himself of his boxers. It never seemed to matter how cold it was outside, Dean always radiated nothing but warmth and Castiel eagerly sought out his husband’s heated skin.

“Geezus babe, why are your feet and ass so damn cold!” Dean yelped as Castiel’s feet rubbed against his calves while his large hands took a hold of Castiel’s ass cheeks.

Castiel giggled. This conversation never went anywhere. Instead he ran his hands all over Dean’s body possessively as his husband kissed him deeply. Both moaned into the kiss as Dean made little circular movements with his hips, making both of their hard lengths rub against each other.

“Dean…” Castiel gasped as his lover sucked a kiss into the soft skin of his collar bone. He threw his head back into the pillows, giving Dean all the access the agent wanted as he wrapped his legs around Dean’s waist.

Dean growled at him as he moved lower to teased Castiel’s nipples with his tongue. “Dean… please” Castiel yearned for him. It had been much too long and his skin was already on fire as he felt needy and desperate.

“So sexy Cas, wanna feel all of you” Dean’s sultry and gravel deep voice, filled with desire made Castiel tremble in anticipation. He responded by rolling his hips up against Dean’s, making their cocks rub against each other deliciously.

“Wanna hear those pretty lil sounds you make for me” Castiel’s body shivered against his husband, knowing damn well Dean would follow through with that promise. He would make sure he would be nothing but a puddle of goo in the middle of their bed. Castiel could only nod enthusiastically. Dean gave him a predatory smile, sharp canines flashing and moss green eyes twinkling with animalistic lust.

There had always been something primal about the way Dean looked at him, dangerous even. Dean was possessive with him but never in a threatening way. More of a greedy if not needy way. Oddly enough, it made the shy writer feel powerful. He felt desired and cherished. Dean placed him on a pedestal Castiel never intended on making him regret it. There was something exhilarating about having a strong and gorgeous man like Dean Winchester look at you like you were his universe. Those emerald green eyes ever so expressive and dominatingly intense as he watched his every reaction to anything he did, making sure he was pleasing Castiel.

Dean brushed a thumb over Castiel’s sensitive nipple, gaining a gasped out moan. It’s been too long. Dean left a trail of open wet kisses across his neck, tonguing the dip of his collarbone before he sucked a bruise into the soft skin. Dean’s mouth was traveling lower as Castiel ran his hands over his husband’s shoulders, arms and back greedily. His blunt nails pressed into the taut flesh of the strong muscles. The heat of Dean’s skin and body was addicting. Castiel moaned as Dean’s hand gripped his hips while his mouth was kissing in the dips of his hips. His lover was purposely avoiding his aching heated length.

“Dean…” Castiel gasped loudly as the fed ever so slowly licked over his hard cock, swirling his tongue around its crown. The writer quickly reached over to the nightstand, pulling the drawer open to grab the lube as Dean took all of him into his mouth. “Ohh!”

Cas shoved the bottle at Dean as he moaned loudly while Dean’s mouth made his toes curl. Dean was sucking him hard and slow, grazing his teeth ever so slightly at the crown, making Castiel whine in pleasure. As soon as Castiel heard the bottle cap, he spread his legs wider. He knew he was being impatient but he couldn’t help himself. It had been too long since he had Dean made love to him.

“Eager sweetheart?” Dean teased, his breath hot against Castiel’s thighs.The writer reached for his husband and Dean went willingly, kissing Castiel hungrily and deeply. Castiel gasped into the kiss as a slick finger circled his already twitching hole. Gently, Dean inserted his middle finger to the second knuckle. “Fuck” Dean gasped against Castiel’s mouth. “So tight Cas”

Castiel nipped at his lover’s bottom lip, his hands holding his husband’s face, fingers fanned out. Dean growled against him as he worked him open. Swirling his finger around, spreading the lube as much as he could while he worked his finger in and out carefully. It had been months and hurting his husband was not an option for the agent.

“More…” Castiel ordered, gaining an amused smirk from Dean that turned into a smoldering kiss as he added a second finger. Castiel moaned and panted as Dean nipped at his jaw, nuzzling against his cheek. Dean nibbled at his left ear, his breath tickling Castiel while the humming groan from Dean as he added a third finger made Castiel’s body shiver. He lifted one of his legs to wrap around Dean’s waist, taking his lover’s fingers deeper into him.

Dean lifted up slightly just to watch his lover’s face. His moss green eyes practically devoured the sight before him. Castiel was completely flushed as Dean’s fingers started to move in and out of him faster, twisting as they went. His hair was all over the place looking wild as his sky blue eyes were filled with lust. Cheeks pink and lips parted as he moaned and gasped, his eyes never leaving Dean’s emerald ones.

The fed had missed this. Watching his gorgeous lover gasping and writhing beneath him. Castiel started to moan louder as Dean fucked him with his fingers. The writer grabbed his face and pulled him down for a filthy and demanding kiss.

Dean carefully pulled out his fingers and lubed up his cock generously all without breaking their kiss. He couldn’t get enough of Castiel’s mouth. His taste, the feeling of him alive was grounding. Panting and so desperate for him. God, he had dreamed about this while away from him. Every night, every thought had been of his beautiful lover waiting for him at home. He pushed into his husband’s tight heat, growling at the feel of him, flexing around him. There was nothing like this, nothing compared to how Castiel felt.

“Oh...Dean…” Castiel breathed out a gasp as he arched against Dean. His head turn to the side, slender neck expose, beckoning Dean’s mouth to lick and kiss. The fed stayed still after he had fully bottomed out, letting his sweetheart breathe in the intrusion. Castiel moved his hips slightly and squeezed his legs around Dean’s waist, letting him know to move. Dean started a slow and deep pace. Swallowing Castiel’s moans as he claimed his lips with his own. Castiel’s fingers disappeared into Dean’s short tawny hair as Dean’s left hand trailed up to Castiel’s hand and laced their fingers together as he thrusted his hips into him.

Castiel squeeze Dean’s hand as Dean laid their hands over his head into the mattress, keeping their fingers laced. The new position gave Dean more room to swirl his hips, gaining sweet soft mewling sounds from his husband beneath him.

The writer couldn’t get enough. His lips were kiss bruised and his whole body was shivering in exquisite pleasure as Dean made sure to angle his thrust just right, stroking Castiel’s prostate. The fed had his blue eyed lover melting into the bed as he made sure he felt every inch of the drag inside of him. Castiel’s free hand was roaming over Dean’s back, blunt nails digging into his muscular flesh as they shared heated kisses in between panting gasps of pleasure.

“Cas…” Dean moaned against his lover’s lips. This was where he was supposed to be, no where else mattered. “Love you…” He whispered, nipping at Castiel’s swollen bottom lip. Cas held Dean’s hand tightly as he lifted his hips ever so slightly, meeting his husband’s thrusts wantonly. Just as Dean’s free hand took a hold of Castiel’s cock, the writer’s body thrashed. He felt high and ever so blissful as his climax coursed through him. His toes curled, his back arched up against Dean as mind blowing pleasure overtook him. His eyes rolled into the back as his head as he spilled his release all over Dean’s hand while the fed sucked a kiss just below his left ear where he was the most sensitive.

Dean sped up his thrusts, making Castiel’s peak soar higher. The writer cried out and he grasped at Dean’s shoulder, digging his blunt nails into the muscles. He clenched at their clasped hands as Dean’s own orgasm build inside of him. Castiel was a mess as Dean finally released their hands. His hand immediately reached for Dean’s neck.

“Fuck…” The fed groaned as his hips moved erratically. Hips swirling and pistoning in and out of his husband while Castiel pulled him down for a filthy kiss. It was all tongues and hungry. Desperate and needy as Dean exploded inside of the writer. He panted hard and moaned as his released sent him into a staggering high. His whole body tingled as he slowed his hips into deep circular motions, intensifying both of their pleasure as they kissed leisurely.

“Missed you so much” Castiel whispered between their shared kisses. However, the tears suddenly came. He couldn’t stop them and he felt angry with himself he couldn’t hold it together.

“Cas, hey hey don’t cry sweetheart. I’m right here” Dean tried to soothe him but his husband lightly pushed him away to sit up. He needed to compose himself. “Cas…” Dean reached for him, but Castiel took his hand and held it between his on his lap as he tried to calm himself.

The agent slid off the bed and kneeled in front of his suddenly distraught husband. “Sweetheart talk to me” He whispered quietly after several moments. His lover was struggling within himself and tried to speak a few times but stopped and angrily wiped at his tears.

Castiel took a deep breath. Dean was home, safe and sound. However it wouldn’t be enough. He couldn’t just be happy in the now. He felt angry with himself for ruining their morning. “I just...its nothing. I’m just happy you're home” He lied and felt a million times worse.

“Cas” He knew by Dean’s tone he didn’t buy it. He took another deep breath and squeezed Dean’s hand he still held and opened his eyes to focus his blurry and watery vision on his kneeling husband. Dean’s brow was furrows and his eyes… those impossibly emerald jewels that looked at him with so much adoration and now genuine worry and concerned made his heart ache.

“Whatever it is, please talk to me.” Dean pleaded as he reached up to caressed his lover’s cheek with his free hand, wiping the stray tear that had slipped down.

“I don’t want to” Castiel began. Fuck! This wasn’t supposed to be happening. He had been doing so good, why did he have to break down now? Dean gave him a confused and hurt look and it broke Castiel’s already weak resolve. “I try… to not let it get to me. Every time you leave through that door, I never know if you're coming back and...I sound so selfish right now”

“No, please tell me.” Dean quietly requested.

Castiel looked down at his lover pleadingly. He in turn reached out and caressed Dean’s face. His chiseled jaw with his morning scruff already starting to grow. “I thought, over time it would get easier. You crossing over our threshold and I wait and hope you'll be home any minute, safe and in one piece back to me. But it just gets harder, my fears are getting worse and I…”

Dean’s eyes widened. No, please… Dean’s heart raced. What was happening? Was Castiel telling him he couldn’t do it anymore after five What was he saying? Fear gripped Dean like it never had before. He had almost lost Castiel three years ago because of his actions and now…

“I can’t ask you not to do your job. I know you love it, it's who you are. I know you save people and protect others, it's part of why I love you. Always ready to jump in and be this cop, this federal agent you’ve work so hard at. I know that I can never know the details. I’ve accepted that. I know you save countless lives that need you… but I…” He was mumbling and rambling. He couldn’t say it, he couldn’t tell him he didn’t want Dean to do this anymore… he felt so selfish and unjust. He closed his eyes and swallowed the lump in his throat. “I’ll be ok. Just forget it, give me a minute to just get myself together”

“Cas” Dean released his hand and cupped his face in his hands. “Cas look at me” He ordered softly. Slowly those expressly bright blue eyes looked at him. They were filled with pain and fear and Dean didn’t understand. “You are the most important thing to me” He started.

“Your job-” Castiel started to protest and look away but Dean held firm and made him look at him again.

“You. Just you. Cas… you’re my everything. I know I’m shit at showing it and I’m sorry. But don’t you ever think you can’t tell me how you feel. This...this job is very demanding-”

“And I knew that going in-” The writer insisted.

“You did, but this is asking a lot for anyone. I’m sorry Cas… I didn’t know you were feeling like this” Again, because of him but he said none of that. He knew by the way Castiel was looking at him, full of love and hope that he understood Dean’s unsaid words.

“I don’t want you to think I don’t want you to do your job. But part of me wants to be selfish and tell you to quit… be home with me every night so I’m not scared I’ll see your face on the news because something I can’t know about happened and-” Castiel stopped himself. This was exactly what he didn’t want to tell Dean. He saw the hurt in his lover’s moss green eyes, but the understanding as well. The federal agent only nodded his comprehension as Castiel wiped his own tears in frustrations as Dean stood to sit next to him. “I just… this is so hard. I’m sorry for sounding like such a brat”

Dean snorted as he wrapped his arms around his husband to pull him against his side. He buried his nose in his lover’s dark messy hair, taking in the scent of apple shampoo he used that Dean had missed the scent of. “I love you”

“I love you too” Castiel snuggled against his strong chest, greedily soaking up his husband’s constant warmth as he snuck his cold feet under his bare thighs, making the fed yelp. Castiel smirked against him as Dean growled about his freezing feet. He knew it wouldn’t change anything, but he felt better about being able to tell Dean how hard his lover’s job was for him. He didn’t feel so lonely suddenly. Just letting Dean know made him feel closer somehow.

Dean hated this. He had always known how difficult his job was for whomever he was with to deal with. After his shattered marriage to Lisa, one would have thought the second time he had been blessed with a significant other he would have been more mindful. A part of him had thought he was, but he was fooling himself. Sending random cards to Castiel that he had written ahead of time wasn’t enough and hell if Castiel hadn’t been an angel all this time.

Five years today. Dean had already made the decision to speak with his superiors at the bureau for the possibility of making a permanent change in his career. However, there were no guarantees, and he didn’t want to make Castiel any empty or maybe types of promises. He would speak with his superiors first and then, depending on the outcome, hopefully be able to put an end to his husband’s suffering. He wasn’t fooling anyone either. Being away from Castiel for too long pained him with his own fears. Of one day coming home only to find him gone…



Dean waltz into the Federal Bureau around ten in the morning. He checked in with his credentials and his weapon with the security sector before he headed over to the Forensic Analytics department. He wanted to check in with Benny before he had to deal with his superiors. Benny Lafitte was part of the Science Branch of the FBI as a Forensic Analyst that specialized in trace evidence, and forensic science research.

Dean slipped his identification card through the strip and walked through the sliding glass door. He spotted Benny across the four large, glass divided sections of the massive lab. He knew his way around the Forensic Analytics department. His mother had been the head for over ten years and Benny had been her brightest pupil. Dean had always started his mornings by visiting his mother before she retired, and by default, Benny. They had hit it off right away and for the last ten years, Benny has been one of his best friends.

“Well look at what the cat dragged in” Benny said in greeting as he walked away from the counter he was occupying.

“Benny” Dean smiled as they hugged, Benny gripped him by the shoulders when they stepped away.

“It's good to see you in one piece brotha” The analyst mused warmly.

“Good to see you too” Dean couldn’t help the smile.

They made their way over to the corner office that served as Benny’s area. “I gotta tell ya, everything you sent has had a mountain of shit. It's basically gold. Charlie’s been having a field day with the audio and videos. I think she’s already tracked down a serious number of affiliated web sites. She even found live streamings, that held bids from viewers for live feats. She tried showing me and I gotta be honest here brotha, I don’t know how the hell you stomach this shit. I could barely look at it for more than a damn minute.” Benny stated as sat in his desk chair.

There were a few neat piles of files on the forensic specialist’s desk. Dean recognized all the labels as evidence stockpile of his recent case. The federal agent nodded his understanding. “I have to mentally detach myself… it's not easy. On some level you start to get desensitized. I think that’s even more disturbing to be honest” Dean admitted with a huffed laugh.

Benny nodded as he looked over at the lab. Two other techs were concentrated on their current subjects. “Well, I’m just happy you’re back. You see your folks yet? Sam was here this morning about the case already. A dog with a bone that one” Benny voiced amused.

“Yeah, that’s why he’s good at what he does. I set them up with you and Charlie and he locks them away.” Dean smiled. He was ridiculously proud of Sam. “No, I haven’t seen my folks yet”

“Castiel must be relieved to have you home.” Benny added as he saw the glint in his friend’s eyes.

“Yeah, me too. Its five years today he’s been stuck with me” Dean informed with with a smirk.

“I know! So what the hell are you doing here?” The Analyst demanded.

“Protocol, check in. You know how Mills and Northstar are” The agent groaned.

“When did you get back?” Benny questioned.

“Last night. Signed in my files and took a shower in the locker room. I went home after.” Dean informed him. Benny smiled as he listened. He could hear the silent ‘I wanted to get home to Cas’ that was associated at the end of Dean’s sentence.

Dean shook his head. Benny knew him too well. He wasn’t a man of many words nor one for ‘chick flick’ moments. However his family and friends knew how he felt about his husband. He hugged Benny goodbye with the promise of stopping by Charlie’s office on his way upstairs to see Mills and Northstar.

The Technology Branch had a ridiculous amount of high tech computers and screens that made Dean’s eyes hurt. He hurried through the various techs that were all focused on their tasks. Some were going over security videos to enhance the pictures while either dealt with cryptically coded information they were trying to decipher.

Dean spotted Charlie in one of the areas with three massive flat screens that displayed all kinds of data and codes that looked like Chinese to him. Charlie Bradbury was an Intelligence & surveillance Analyst. She was a hell of a gem for the Technology Branch.

As the agent came closer, he saw the screen that was closer to him had one of the videos from his current case. It had a young boy tied and crying as two large men stood over him on a small white bed. It was on pause, which he was thankful for. The system going over facial recognition of the two men on it. Dean could still hear the boy’s pleas when he closed his eyes.

“Winchester!” Charlie spun in her chair and launched at him, bear hugging him. Dean laughed as he caught her and hugged her back tightly.

“Hey red” Dean greeted affectionately.

“Glad your ok. The stuff you’ve been sending has been…. Hard” She admitted. Being in their line of work, it was strictly on the need to know basis for anyone that asked, which was challenging at best. The things they dealt with were nothing short of horrific. Yet they had willingly signed on, along with Benny and Special Agent Arthur Ketch. He was Dean’s tactical partner, when the Criminal Investigative Division's Assistant Director Luc Northstar and the Office for Victims’ Assistant Director Jody Mills had approached them so many years ago to form the task force, they had an immediate camaraderie.

They were a good unit that complemented each other well. Each was strong in their specific fields and had qualifications that made the team run like a well oiled machine. However, as Dean watched and half listened to the information from the evidence Charlie was going on about, he felt a ting of guilt.

Charlie and Benny were family to him. Even Jody acted as a mother hen while Ketch tended to keep him on his toes but the guy had Dean’s back. Luc liked to test him and they had very different outlooks on things but they still worked for the same goal. They all depended on him. Dean had a serious and dangerous part on the team, and now he wanted to change those dynamics. With a thirteen year career under his belt and ten of it with this team, he couldn’t help but feel guilty for wanting out now. He knew they would understand but Dean wasn’t going to just leave without a plan in place.

Arthur Ketch would work perfectly as his replacement in the field. Having been Dean’s partner from the start, he knew better than anyone how things worked in the filthy layers of undercover work. What it took to infiltrate and how to blend. What had worked so well for years between them was the fact that Ketch was for one of British descent, accent and all. However his style of dress and mannerism allowed him to blend easily in any setting. That was one of Ketch’s talents, to remain unseen. That skill had made him the best candidate for the one to pick up Dean’s drops and keep an eye out if things turned south for Dean.

As far as Dean was concerned, Ketch would make an excellent replacement. The only open gap would be finding a new addition to the team that would pick up Ketch’s drops. Dean was certain the British man would gladly step up to the position.

He hugged Charlie good bye and headed to the upper levels where Mill and Northstar were waiting for him. He wasn’t sure how that duo had come to be exactly, but one thing was for sure, being in their mutual presence always prove to be entertaining. Jody Mills was a grounded, ass kicking type of woman with a no nonsense attitude and a hell of a leader in her department. Yet, she had a motherly side to her that made her fiercely protective of her agents and the causes they worked on.

As he waited on the elevator to bring him to his desired floor, he went over his ‘speech’ in his head. He had his obvious reasons and he knew they would understand them, however it didn’t guarantee them agreeing to reassign him. They had invested a lot of time and sources on Dean.

He took a deep breath as the elevator doors opened with a quiet ‘ding’ and proceeded towards AD Jody Mill’s office. He spotted Ketch as he turned down the hall towards her corner office. He walking up the bull den where the center of the whole floor was a level down and was occupied by a maze of Special Agents at their desks or running around. Dean’s desk was at the northeast end next to Ketch’s.

“Ketch!” Dean called him over. His partner rows a brow at him but headed his way. The last time Dean saw him was after Ketch had left him in the locker room after he had bailed him out of the county jail and few states over.

“Dean. I was under the impression you wouldn’t be in today” Ketch remarked as he fixed the cuffs on his perfectly pressed sports coat.

“I have to meet up with Mills and Northstar. I’d like you with me” Dean asked quietly. Ketch turned his head ever so slightly as he eyed his partner.

Dean smirked, the Brit always did this when something peaked his interest. “Before you ask why, I think you’ll be on board for what I have in mind. Hell, I wouldn’t mention it if I didn’t think that” Dean tried to entice him a bit more and got his answer when his fellow agent nodded his agreement.

They turned to AS Jody Mill’s office door and knock. A polite ‘IN’ was snapped out from the inside, letting Dean open the door.

“Winchester! Ketch! Come on in” Jody Mills was a fit woman with short dark hair that gave her a pixie look. She seemed tame enough, however looks were deceiving. Jody Mills was a hell of a straight shot with any firearm. It was downright impressive and incredibly frightening.

AS Luc Northstar stood to her left as she stood to greet them.

“Agents” Northstar regarded them with a familiar nod.

“So, as far as we can tell, the case looks extremely good on our end” Mills started as she came around her large desk.

“The evidence you were able to collect has opened links into other trafficking functions we weren’t expecting” Northstar states as he paced the side of the room. He tended to look passive and more often than not, had a far away look on his face.

Dean nodded. This was good. Great even. If they could put even more perps in cells and away from young defenseless kids, he was all for it. He felt a strong sense of pride in being able to make this happen, being a key factor in that aspect of protecting the wide-eyed innocent children. He loved this sense of purpose.Be a voice for the voiceless. Help the helpless. Protect the ones that so desperately needed it. Do something, anything in his power to restore some kind of normalcy, some kind of safety and happiness to those innocent children that would now have a chance at life.

Dean lived for this. This sense of right. However now, he planned and fully hoped, he would be able to do so from a different angle. A structuring and guiding one.

Both Northstar and Mills went on and into details of the impact all nine months of Dean’s hard work did for the case. Federal prosecutor, and Dean’s baby brother, Sam Winchester, felt he had a hell of a case. The evidence collected would blow away any jury that would have any doubts about the monsters they were getting ready to let rot in cells, if not the death penalty which Sam was going for. Some of the main players had been doctors, teachers and even priests. These were people in perfect positions to prey on children. Dean, along with everyone in the room, Sam, Benny and Charlie knew there was no ‘helping’ evil like that. They never got ‘better’, only more careful in their horrible perversions and how to attain them.

After an hour of the meeting and regroupment on the need to know basics of the case and it's moving forward, Dean made sure to stand and gain everyone’s attention.

“With this update put to bed. I’d like to bring up something” Dean started, gaining raised eyebrows from his three fellow agents. Dean made sure to keep himself from smirking at their mirrored expressions. “I um, I’ve thought about this quite a while and I feel this is what's best and right for me. I just hope you’ll hear me out and fully consider it”

“Consider what?” Northstar asked as he leaned on Mill’s desk next to her.

“Promoting Ketch to my position and assigning me to a positions I could still be effective only no longer in the field”


Chapter Text

“So he’s home” Castiel sighed quietly. Of course Gabriel’s first words as he walked into the house were filled with disdain once he had spotted Dean’s duffel bag by the entrance.

“Yes, Dean is safely home” The writer confirmed as he sat down on the comfortably fluffy slate color sofa. He took a sip of his tea, loving the warm chamomile and honey liquid soothing his insides.

Gabriel stood in the middle on the room, arms crossed over his chest as he watched Castiel carefully. “Well you look thoroughly fucked. Did he hurt you?”

“Gabriel!” Castiel hated this song and dance with his brother.

“Come on, who knows what he’s learned while gone ‘undercover’. Whatever excuse he came up with for a double life. If you didn’t use a condom I suggest you go get tested” The older man spat out as he came to sit by Castiel on the old couch.

“Can we please not do this today?” Castiel was already exhausted and it was barely ten in the morning. He and Dean had cuddled for a long time after his emotional outbursts. Just holding each other, soft kisses and sweet nothing as they stayed wrapped around each other. The only reason they had gotten out of bed was when Dean’s stomach had growled loudly, stating its need for food.

They had cooked breakfast together, eggs, bacon and toasts. Well, Castiel cooked while Dean had been glued to his back. His arms were firmly wrapped around his waist. His head on Castiel’s right should, absently kissing his neck while he watched the food sizzling.

Castiel had told Dean about this business related meeting he had today with Gabriel. His husband had seen his guilt filled blue eyes and had kissed him deeply. “Don't feel guilty sweetheart. You had no idea I was going to make it home for today” Dean had whispered against his lips. In the end, the agent had told Castiel it was alright. Dean had to go to the bureau to check in and would be back in a few hours and then, Castiel was to be all his. The writer had giggled and happily agreed.

Gabriel sighed. “Fine, onto other news! Mother has asked for you to come to dinner tonight”

“No” The words were out of his mouth before he could could blink. Castiel could already feel the dread making itself into an uncomfortable knot in the pit of his stomach. “I can’t Gabriel. Dean is home and it's our anniversary”

Gabriel rolled his eyes and crossed his arms. “Mother won’t be happy to hear that” Gabriel informed him, voice practically chanting the warming.

Castiel sighed and set his hot mug on the side table. “Gabe please… I don’t want mother to be upset, but I can’t leave Dean, not today. Mother will have to understand”

“Oh wait, so you want me to tell her no for you? Ha!” Gabriel snorted.

“Just tell her you haven’t talked to me or been able to reach me or something” Castiel cut him off. He did not want to deal with their mother, not today. He was just starting to feel he had a better grasp on his emotions after his outburst with Dean. The last thing he needed was Naomi Novak hitting him with her manipulative controlling was. Their father Jim Novak, would do anything to appease his wife so she wouldn’t turn her hateful tongue on him instead.

The woman was always comparing Castiel to his oh so well behaved and wonderful examplimatory siblings. Castiel hadn’t followed her wishes -if not demands- for him to become a doctor. She had actually laughed at him when he had told her he wanted to be an author. Her reaction had hurt much more then he would have ever liked to admit. Added on by his sexual orientation, she had actually cried at the concept of no grandchildren. Castiel had reminded her she had Gabriel or Hester could very well have children. If he at anytime ever decided to have children he could always adopt. Her tears had ‘suddenly’ run dry and she had turned a disdain and downright livid gaze upon him. Apparently Naomi Novak was against children that did not carried their bloodline to be entitled with the name ‘Novak’. Castiel had never been more angry with his mother’s bias and hateful approach. The topic of Castiel’s sexual preference as well as children had never since been revisited.

“Right because she’ll believe that. You know she’ll tell me to just come here and drag you” Gabriel told him completely amused.

Castiel groaned and rubbed at his temples. He could feel the tension headache slowly creeping into his skull. He didn’t want to speak to his mother, not when the subject of his husband would come up and it would. She tended to prey heavily on his insecurities. As soon as she had learned of his eloping with Dean, she had started on him. “Castiel, I thought you much smarter than this! How could you marry into such a blue collar nightmare. Law enforcement! Do you understand all that you have given up by marrying that buffoon? He will never be home and when gone, you’ll have no idea if he’ll even come home or get a call that he’s in body bag. No emotional stability for you. Not to mention you don’t know if you could be targeted by some crazy gangbangers angry with him. I'm just looking out for you. I only want the best for you. You deserve the best and this Dean Winchester is most certainly not it" His mother liked laying it on thick. Even after so many years, whenever they spoke and Dean was on a case, she would add to his fears. “How long has he been gone this time? Are you sure something hasn’t happened to him? You should keep your options open. I was watching a very interesting show and the ‘husband’ had a double life. Maybe that’s your ‘Dean’ too. He doesn’t come home cause he’s with someone else”

He was sure that some extent, maybe even unconsciously, that she enjoyed preying on his very real fears even though he had never voiced them to her. Perhaps his silence was tell enough for her.

Castiel had let her words affect him, of course, like they always did. He had researched police and FBI marital criteria and had felt nothing but severely depressed after. One particular blog had told him about the life and death decisions their spouses faced in the field. It showed the high possibilities of seeing and living through trauma, which held a high rate of PTSD effects for the people in the service and an extremely high rate of divorce. For people to be married to someone who may or may not come home one day, or deal with their spouse’s psychological traumas or fears left behind from cases and situations, it was hard to absorb its reality and possibilities. The blog had gone on and on with individuals posting about their personal experiences as husbands and wives, most of them divorced showing their past situations. All of it had left Castiel scared if not devastated by the possibility.

Yet Dean had been there. It was perfect. He was loving and completely wrapped around Castiel while home. He couldn’t bring himself to think about any of those things he had read about. Only once, had Dean ever made him question his decision in marrying him. Dean wasn’t perfect by any means but he ‘tried’ his damnedest to do right by Castiel. That ‘accident’ which Castiel tended to refer to in his mind, had happened about three years ago. They had only been married two years then and Dean had been drinking and…

The home phone rang which made Castiel jolt from his thoughts. He sighed and planned to ignore the sound. He knew it was his mother, he could feel it in his bones.

Gabriel looked at him with an eyebrow raised. “Aren’t you going to get that?”

“No” The writer sighed. He didn’t feel like hearing more of his mother’s guilt trips, he could already hear what she would say as soon as he told her that,no; he wouldn’t be attending dinner and that Dean was home. She had used too many ruses on him that had sent him into a panic before. "You need to come over. Your father may need to go to the hospital." And she had hung up with no other explanation. His mother wouldn’t answer the phone when he had frantically tried to reach her as he had rushed out of his house and raced over to his parents home, only to have found his father in his library, sipping cognac with Gabriel. He had left Dean almost without an explanation in the middle of their date.

Countless times she had seem to make a point of interrupting any and all quality time he had with his husband in order to pull him away. Castiel for his part, even at times knowing damn well it was a lie whatever his mother would voice and convince him to destroy whatever plans he had with Dean in favor of being a good son and going to his mother when called upon. This had been the subject of the majority of his marital fights with Dean. Even knowing what his mother was doing, he would go, only because of that longing hope inside that he would get her praise of some kind. Instead of constantly being reminded that he was such a disappointment to her and his father. However, at what cost would he continue to allow it? His biggest fear besides something happening to Dean while on a case, was that he would one day have enough of Castiel taking his mother’s summonings over him.

The last Christmas Dean had been home had ended in one of the biggest fights they had ever had. Everything had been planned. Their family and friends would come over to Castiel and Dean’s home for Christmas dinner. The decorations had been perfect, the preparations for the feast and their expected ten or so guest had been ready. Dean had been excited to be hosting for the first time since they had gotten married. However, the day before, Castiel’s mother had announced that his father and herself wouldn’t be attending. That his father was extremely sick, ever so suddenly. Naomi had guilt trip Castiel into coming over their house for dinner instead. As expected, the next day, Castiel had gone to his parent’s home, and left a very pissed off Dean with a ton of guests. When he had arrived at his parents, of course, his father was just fine and their house was in a full sing of a party. Castiel had been livid and had felt so damn gullible, because yes, every time his mother called he went running. That night his mother had added to his guilt and had convinced him into staying anyway.

Dean had to leave the next day for a case and it had been almost six months before he had seen his husband again. Castiel had been so upset with himself and had promised himself as well as Dean that he wouldn’t let his parents come between them any longer. Dean had only been home two months before he was assigned to another case. The case had lasted nine months and he was now home. No, he wasn’t going to leave Dean for anything while he had him home now.

Especially today.

The phone finally stopped ringing. Gabriel watched him have his inner conflict but uncharacteristically stayed silent for only a moment before sighing. “Fine, but you know she won't let it slide so easily. She always has to ‘win’.” Gabriel reminded him softly as he turned towards his obviously distressed baby brother. It wasn’t a sight he enjoyed.

Castiel could only nod, he knew all too well that his mother would lay on the guilt trip heavily next time they spoke. He hated this part of himself. His desperate need for her approval that he knew deep down he would never get.

“Ok! How about a change of topic? You know, what I actually came here for. Business!” Gabriel said as he jumped up and looked extremely excited suddenly.

Castiel smiled at his brother, thankful for the change of subject. “Yes you mentioned you had something in the works for the series. I’m guessing if we are having this meeting means you have your ‘ducks in a row’ like you love to say?”

Gabriel’s grin grew. “Yup! Only one duck missing and that's you”

Castiel laughed. “Alright and what is this project?” Gabriel was an entrepreneur with a handful of successful businesses. He had an eye and mind for it. He was also the one that helped Castiel publish his series. He owned a small but extremely successful publishing house which printed and marketed Castiel’s best selling series ‘The Thursday Chronicles’. He was fair and acted as Castiel’s manager and publicist simply because he wanted to be there for Castiel.

“I want you to do an interview with Bela Talbot on her TV show ‘Worth a Read’” Gabriel declares with his arms spread wide in invitation.

Castiel did not share his brother’s excitement. “I don’t know Gabe, you know I’m not very comfortable with the idea of going public”

“I’m serious Cassie! This is your tenth book in a ridiculously popular and desired series. I get you like your privacy and the mystery aspect of ‘the ghost writer’ crap, but come on. You owe it to your fans. Fans Cassie, as in the thousands all over the world that are on your subscription list on the site. Do you know there are over five thousand pre-orders on the tenth book that comes out in two days?” Gabriel announced as he passed in front of his brother a bit irritated.

Castiel had refused to ever do any interviews. His picture wasn’t even in the back of his books like most authors. The only description was his website address. He didn’t even go on that site. Gabriel and his one employee; Ashton Lindberg managed the site, the comments, the announcements and orders of his books.

Now with the tenth addition to his extremely successful series was coming out. Gabriel was pleading with him to do at least one interview.


“Come on Cassie! I already have it all set up. Believe it or not, Bela Talbot is actually a fan. Says you daring to write a compelling and intriguing ‘gay’ adventure romance novel is paving the way for others”

Castiel sighed. “I have to talk it over with Dean”

“What!? Why?” Gabriel was looking at him as if he had lost his mind.

The writer stood and started for the kitchen with his brother hot on his heels. “He is my husband Gabriel. If I do a live interview, I want to make sure he’s ok with that. His job-”

“Does he give you any consideration?” The older Novak growled out over his brother’s words.

“Why do you have to do this? You know he does!” Castiel barked back. “You would know that if you would stop holding on to the ONE time he messed up!”

“You won’t allow me here with he’s home” Gabriel snarled.

“You sucker punched him the last time you were both in the same room! You’re lucky he didn’t press charges, for ‘hitting a federal officer’” Castiel snapped back. He slammed the counter cabinets as he started to take things out for dinner.

“He deserved it after what he did!” Gabriel insisted as he crossed his arms and looked at his brother with protective fury in his honey brown eyes.

Castiel took a deep breath, wanting to calm himself. “It was three years ago Gabriel. When will you ever let it go? Dean makes me happy, why can’t you accept that?” He pleaded as he looked up at his older brother. Gabriel had never liked Dean, Castiel could admit that in the beginning it was his own fault.

He had been so sure things wouldn't last with Dean. When they had started seeing each other, it had been fast and passionate. They had spent most of their time together wrapped in each other with mind blowing sex. Only when Dean had admitted to him that he had been the only man he had ever been with did things change for Castiel. He had honestly been caught off guard. Dean hadn’t acted like the typical man who had suddenly decided to indulge in homosexual curiosity. Castiel had been with others who wanted to ‘try it’ with a man and then tended to be...shy? Or unsure and awkward during intimacy. Some had even been repulsed by certain things and others weren't ready for other elements.

However for Dean, the idea of Castiel being the first man he was even intimate with had never been a thought to him. From the very beginning the agent had been wanton and never hesitated in his touches. Dean had taken Castiel apart with his hands and mouth until the writer had been begging and writhed beneath him in desperate want. Dean had even rimmed him and Castiel had never met nor heard of a man that was newly experiencing with his sexuality to jump right into the deep end like a professional. The intense and undeniable desire between them had made it hard for Castiel to believe it.

After Dean’s confession, he had decided to quickly to keep his feelings in check. He had been so sure, that Dean had been simple getting his curiosity or itch out of his system and that Castiel would inevitably be left with a broken heart. Yet, with every passing day, week and month that passed where Castiel was with Dean, it had proved ever more difficult with every kiss and tender touch to keep his feelings at bay.

Castiel had of course voiced his fears to Gabriel, who in turn had tried to convince Castiel to leave Dean before he left him. Needless to say, Castiel had been over joyed and completely surprised when just six months in their dating had Dean proposed to him. It had been unexpected, romantic and so perfect…

“Why are you smirking now?” Gabriel demanded as he broke into Castiel’s thoughts.

“Look, I’m not saying no, but I want to run this by Dean first” The younger Novak voiced, baby blue eyes pleading with his older brother to understand. Gabriel sighed and stood with his hands on his hips.

“Fine, but I need to know by tomorrow Cassie. This is your career and I would hope, since, you adamantly say that your husband supports you in your career, that he won’t be an asshole” Gabriel told him as he rubbed the bridge of his nose.

Castiel stopped organizing the ingredients for dinner and looked at his brother in shock. “I really don’t understand how you can say that Dean would ever stop me from doing what I want. I’m just simply wanting his opinion on this Gabriel. Dean is a federal agent. I refuse to do anything that would compromise what he has worked his whole life so hard for”

“Yeah? What about your hard life’s work?” The older Novak bit out.

“Gabriel, me not doing an interview won’t stop or injure my success as a writer. You yourself have told me this from the beginning when I told you I wasn’t comfortable being in the spotlight and I am still not. If I decide to say no to the interview with Bela Talbot, it will be my decision and mine alone. Stop blaming Dean for everything. Its getting old. Today is five years we are married. I’m lucky and happy to have a man that risks his life to help others less fortunate. Do I like it when he’s gone for months and puts his life in danger? No, I don’t, I hate it and it scares me to the core. But I won’t stop him from being who he is, just like he won’t stop me from making any decision about my own career. I just want his thoughts on the matter. Can you understand that?” Castiel challenged, bright blue eyes watching his brother fidgit.

“Fine Cassie. Call me tomorrow to let me know your decision. Just remember, Bela Talbot is a big deal, and this would be really good for you. Not to mention your fans would love this.”

“I’ll call you tomorrow” Castiel assured him before he turned back to continue preparing dinner.

“Ok, later” Gabriel grumbled as he headed out the front door.



Castiel heard the front door and couldn’t keep the smile from his face. Dean sauntered into the kitchen just as he stood up from the table to greet him only from his husband to wrap his arms around him from behind. “Hello Dean-” His words turned into a gasp as Dean’s mouth found the tender spot on his neck, making his pulse race wildly. Dean hummed against him as he kissed at the nape of his neck where the short hairs curled, ever so softly.

Dean was holding him firmly with his right arm around his chest as his left hand pushed down Castiel’s sweater from his neck, exposing his shoulder. Dean was relentless. Castiel panted and tilted his head back as Dean left open mouth kisses all over his shoulder. They turned into heated nips and then Dean was tracing the arch of his neck with his tongue, making Castiel whimper. Desire curled in the pit of the writer’s stomach as his husband seemed possessed and intend on taking him apart.

Small bites were left across his shoulder and neck, only to be soothed with Dean’s tongue before he turned the action into succulent kisses. Dean was nuzzling him. Castiel gasped as Dean’s hand took a firm grip of his hair, tilting his head just how he wanted it as he licked across his lover’s neck. Dean was practically eating any inch of skin his shoulder and neck offered. Castiel was so hard in his jeans, but was helpless but to moan as Dean traced the lobe of his ear with his tongue before his mouth traveled to Castiel’s cheek. The writer turned his head, letting his husband kiss him hungrily. Dean mapped out his mouth and licked into it greedily. His hand playing in Castiel’s hair as he returned his mouth to the exposed shoulder. He nuzzled and rubbed the slight scruff against the heated skin. Dean’s mouth was fierce and lavishly lost into the taste and scent of his lover. Intoxicated by the jasmine and apples smell of his shampoo. The sounds Castiel moaned were going right to his crotch.

“Dean…” The writer withered in his grasp as one of Dean’s hands found a nipple, while the other slid lower and unbuttoned Castiel’s jeans. The writer panted and whined as Dean took a hold of his hard cock and proceeded to stroke him. Castiel was on fire. His knees trembled as Dean worked him. He kept Castiel against him as he grinding into him from behind, letting his lover feel his hardened length against his now bare ass. Castiel’s jeans were dropped to his knees as he moaned and mewled at the agent’s ministrations. He tilted his head back to kiss Dean, open mouth and filthy. Dean’s embrace was dominating and devouring. Castiel came seconds later all over Dean’s hand.


He had missed laying on Dean’s chest like this. Laying naked and cuddled up in bed, watching the tv absently, not really focusing on anything particular besides the beat of Dean’s heart under him. His husband’s fingers were sending pleasant sensations as they ghosted over Castiel’s bare back and shoulder. Dean was propped up and half ways sitting against their headboard and pillows.

Castiel was hugging his torso, letting his own fingers traveled over his husband’s chest and abs, loving the slight twitches he would gain when he touched a certain part that gave Dean chills.

They had completely skipped dinner after Dean had rendered him into a babbling mess against the kitchen table. Somehow they had made it up the stairs and into bed only for Dean to continue his assault on him until they were both too exhausted yet it was too early to sleep. Watching mindless sitcoms in bed wrapped around each other was the absolute next best thing.

It wasn’t even eight o’clock as Castiel gazed at the alarm clock in harsh red letters when he tried to stifle a yawn.

“Sleepy baby” The deep rubble of Dean’s relaxed baritone voice sounded softly as the agent ran his fingers through Castiel’s wild hair.

The writer nuzzled his chest and rose on his right elbow to look up at his husband who was giving him a gentle smile. Dean was still petting him. It made him feel like a cat and he grinned as he leaned into Dean’s touch as he caressed his cheek.

The sudden sound of the phone ringing downstairs in the kitchen made Castiel jump. Dean frowned and looked over at the clock to see what time it was.

“Don’t go get it” Castiel stated, keeping his left hand on Dean’s chest to keep him where he was without putting any actual force behind it. Dean simply arched as brow but by the exasperated look on Castiel’s face, he already knew who was calling.

“I’m guessing this isn’t the first time she called today?” Dean murmured as he sat up a bit more and Castiel followed suit.

“No and I haven’t answered” Castiel informed him, looking completely pleased with himself.

The agent reached for him and kissed him deeply. It was sweet and tender, filled with adoration. It lit Castiel’s very core. This passion he felt with Dean had never dissipated in their five years together.

Dean settled himself back against the many pillows as Castiel ran his fingertips lightly over his lover’s bare chest. The phone ringing had reminded Castiel’s of Gabriel’s visit and what he wanted to talk to Dean about.

“You remember I told you this morning I had business appointment?” Castiel started as he watched Dean mute the tv and give him his full attention. ‘Business appointment’ had been their key phrase for ‘Gabriel’. It was a mutual need to keep the animosity his brother had towards Dean to a lull minimum.

“Mmhmm” Dean hummed as he took Castiel’s hand that laid on his chest and laced their fingers together.

“Well, with the tenth book coming out in two days, adamantly asked for me to consider doing a TV interview about the series.” Castiel told him and was now watching Dean’s reaction while he gnawed at his lower lip nervously.

Dean smiled and kissed his husband’s knuckles. “Well, how do you feel about it? I know you’ve never wanted to before but if you’re talking to me about it, are you thinking about it?”

Castiel sighed. Dean was just smirking at him, watching him. Fern green eyes amused and intense. “I am thinking about it. I just wanted your opinion. You know how much I value our privacy, especially with your job…” The truth was that he was scared. Being on tv for the world to see him. He was sure there would be personal questions. What if he said something that would endanger Dean? Granted Dean wasn’t the actual topic of the interview but he was Castiel’s muse and the inspiration for his Demon Deasun. Dean had no clue still and knew even less about the fact that many of the significant happenings in the book were actually based on them.

“Oh no, you don’t” Dean teased as he sat up and cupped Castiel’s face to kiss him. “Don’t put this on me. I trust you. You won’t say anything you don’t want or feel is important. Yes you are off the market and happily married to a undeserving man!” Dean exaggerated. “But I very much doubt anyone will care about your boring husband. The interview if for your series. You’ve been working so hard on this. Ten books in five years is no small feat. I’m also guessing it's not the last one for the series”

Castiel smiled at him. Dean had always encouraged him to work on his dream. He had had writer’s block for so long and then when they met, his muse just took over. Dean had seen how hard and dedicated he was to his series. The agent just had no idea he was part of it in any way shape or form. A major part of Castiel actually quite liked Dean not knowing it was like a secret love letter to him.

“Ok” Was all Castiel could manage before he straddled Dean’s lap, buried his fingers in Dean's hair and sealed their lips.


Chapter Text

If anyone would have told Bela that the author ‘Castiel Winchester’ was a man before an hour ago, she would have laughed in their face. The simple fact that the author had -finally after so many years- decided to do an interview was a huge deal. The immense popularity worldwide the action adventure with a dash of forbidden love titled ‘The Thursday Chronicles’ had and still received over years, everyone was looking forward to this interview.

Bela in truth couldn’t wait to interview the shy looking man. She watched him as makeup and hair were working on him. He looked incredibly nervous and uncomfortable. However, he was handsomely dressed in dark jeans, a graphite black suit vest and a crisp pale blue and white checkered shirt. He had rolled the sleeves to his mid forearms and forgone a tie. He left the top bottom open and had wrapped up the look with black vans. The sky blue eyes paired with his dark chocolate hair and shy smile would sell well.

The small gasp that had followed in the studio once Castiel Winchester had arrived had been a bit… unprofessional. She had been the first to recover when Gabriel Novak had walked forward with a mischievous grin towards her with the author at his heels.

She herself had read the series. Among authors, it was a rare gift to be able to deliver ten books in five years. Bela had known after she had finished the first installment she wanted to one day meet this author. The plot was interesting with twist and turns. The world built into those pages was gripping and fantastic as it was vast. The fight scenes were gruesome and awesome while the sexual scenes were sensual and wild.

Bela Talbot hadn’t made her reputation as a demanding reader and critic by enjoying just any piece of fiction that landed on her desk. She was insistent that a good piece of fiction had to remain challenging and engage the reader throughout the story line. What had impressed her was that Castiel Winchester managed to bring out a sense of reality to the two main characters’ story line. One could relate on some of the situations and emotions. You felt the fear, the pain, the anger, the love and lust as the story unfolds with every chapter. It was an addicting read and Bela was all too eager to interview its author.

When the owner of ‘Paragon Publishings’, Gabriel Novak came into her office to speak with the producers and learned there was a possibility of an interview for the author of ‘The Thursday Chronicles’, she had jumped a the chance. They had only received the confirmation for the interview yesterday which hadn’t left much time to promote for it. However, as she continued to watch Castiel Winchester fidget and look an absolute deer in headlights as the seated him in his designated chair, she understood why. The author clearly did not enjoy the limelight and the least amount of fuss during his visit was perfectly coordinated by Gabriel Novak.

However, a few fans had already gotten wind of the possibility of the interview and many had emailed her questions to ask. She didn’t mind fans requesting certain information from authors she would interviewed. Yet, as she scrolled through the many emails, they all referred to Castiel Winchester as a woman. Bela smirked. With the novel of ‘The Thursday Chronicles’ technically being about a homosexual romance, the world seems to associate women writers to this genre more than men. Which was a bit hilarious but quite a fact. It just reaffirmed she curiosity in knowing if Winchester knew he was thought of as a woman writer because of his lake of limelight display.

Bela was looking forward to this segment. For once, she actually had enjoyed the series. She was very much looking forward to the new book that came out today.

“Miss Talbot? We are ready for you” A short bleached blonde PA instructed her.

“Thank you” She smiled. Show time.


To say he was nervous was an understatement. He had makeup on his face, spot lights directed at him with three huge cameras aimed at him as he sat on a slightly uncomfortable plum sofa chair. He had been given a glass of water that had already been refilled twice.

Castiel knew who Bela Talbot was. If you were a writer of any kind, you knew this critic.If she was a fan, or at least enjoyed your book, it was smooth sails. She was lively and classy. She would even include questions from fans of the author on the show. However, if she didn’t fancy your novel or work, she would be a bit harsh and inquisitive.

Bela Talbot reviewed it all. From political writings to fictional fantasy novels, she was a voice for all genre and had quite the following. Gabriel had pushed for this interview with the idea it would bring Castiel more fans. According to the older Novak, Bela Talbot actually enjoyed Castiel’s series, which had calmed his nerves but not by much.

Castiel heard someone yell ‘Places’ and then Bela Talbot was walking towards him. He quickly stood and hoped his palms weren’t too sweating as they shook hands in greeting.

“Castiel Winchester, it's a pleasure” Bela welcomed as she smiled and tend motioned for him to sit back down.

“Its an honor Miss Talbot” Castiel stated, as he returned her smile. She was a beautiful woman with ash brown, shoulder length hair. Impeccably styled with more of a classic styled makeup to brighten her green hazel eyes and a soft pink pout.

Bela crossed her legs that were emphasized by her charcoal grey pencil skirt she wore with a hunter green blouse. The color made Castiel smirk as it made him think of Dean’s eyes.

“Welcome to Worth a Read. I’m Bela Talbot and our guest today is none other than the reclusive Castiel Winchester. Author of ‘The Thursday Chronicles’. Thank you so much for coming” Bela announced before tonight to him.

“Thank you for having me” Castiel replied smoothly.

“Now, since the world of fiction practically knows nothing about the creator of Cathaldus of Ceo and Deasun of Eso besides their adventurous love story, I am going to start with the basics” She teased good naturedly.

Castiel smiled and nodded his understanding. He could do this he reminded himself and took a deep breath as discreetly as he could manage.

“By your ring I will assume you are married?” Bela queried.

“Yes, I'm married to a wonderful man. But I don’t wish to drag him into the limelight with me." He had been ready for this question. Already he knew he would have to talk a tiny bit about Dean because of his influence and inspiration for his series. He wanted to attempt to minimize direct questions about him.

“I can respect that. Which brings me to my next question. Are you aware of the fact that for years, it has been speculated that you're a woman.” Bela started as Castiel laughed at that.

“Yes it was mentioned to me be my manager a few times” Castiel had actually forgotten about this rumor.

“How come you never stepped in to at least rectify that point?" Bela pressed on.

“Well, I suppose I honestly didn’t see the point? My gender doesn’t change the novels one way or another” He stated.

Bela hummed and smiled, silently agreeing with his answer. “Have you always wanted to be an author? If no, what else would you have liked as a career?”

“Well, since I was old enough to read, stories had always fascinated me. There’s no actual limit of reality in fiction. If you wanted to write about a colony of fairies that lived among the tulips at the edge of some elderly couple’s garden, you could. If you wanted to write about a human going into space and who fell in love with something or someone unknown, you could. Everything is possible in writing. So yes, I’d like to say I have always wanted to be an author.” Castiel started with a smile on his face. He felt good talking about this, his passion. “However, I did go to school to be in the medical field at one time but my love for writing was always too dominant of a desire. So, I withdrew from school and a few years later, the first book of ‘The Thursday Chronicles’ was published”

“Do you regret dropping out of school?” Bela asked with a perfect eyebrow rose.

Castiel did have regrets, but not the kind Bela was interested in hearing. It wasn’t something Castiel was actually willing to share publicly. His crippling need to have his mother's approval didn’t need to be known. “No, I don’t regret it. The first few years were hard yes, its hard to make any kind of money as a writer just starting out. It felt right, it was hard but I was happy” And this was the truth without the pitiful need of his family’s understanding.

Bela nodded her appreciation of his honesty in the matter of just how difficult being a writer was.

“I was also lucky that my brother owns a publishing house” Castiel added and laughed when Bela did as well.

“That’s very true. Let's be honest, your talent speaks for itself. If Paragon Publishings hadn’t pick up your manuscript, another publishing house would have. The series is quite unique and engaging” The reporter complemented.

Castiel actually blushed and he could have sworn he heard Gabriel huff before camera two. “Thank you Bela, you flatter me”

The woman simply smiled at him and continued. “Now, your fans and myself are very curious in how you came up with this series? What inspired such a world you created? Why angels and demons?”

“Well, it was a variety of things really. My father had told me a long time ago I was named after the angel of Thursday. We are not a particularly religious family but it did peak my interest of angels. Now, there are quite a few versions that varies over different cultures. So, I decided to create my own story-” He started when she interrupted.

“You mean Cathaldus is you?” Bela asked, her eyes intense and curious.

“Not exactly, um, maybe more of an extension or alter ego?” He suggested gaining an approving nod from Bela. “In many scriptures, angels are warriors and I love the idea of having a powerful hero. Magic, wings and him having a sense of purpose. He has a love for his kind as a prince but wanted to protect the people and not just sit on a boring thrown.”

“Oh Cathaldus is anything but boring” Bela interjected making Castiel smile in appreciation.

“The idea of him was outline for a long time, but I wasn’t able to bring him to life. My manuscript would just stay untouched for what felt like forever, I actually had almost given up on it. I was convinced I had ‘writer's block.” Castiel admitted sheepishly.

“So, what changed? You found a muse?” Bela demanded. Castiel felt at ease with her, she was open and clearly absorbed in their conversation.

“Yes, my muse and inspiration kinda just happened into my life” Castiel informed her.

Bela gave him a knowing smirk. “So would it be fair to assume that the events and characters are a result from this ‘muse’? Such as Deasun perhaps?”

Castiel laughed as he nodded. “Yes, such as Deasun”

“Now I must ask, does that inspiration have anything to do with that husband you mentioned?” Bela questioned, eager for its reply.

The author was blushing. “Yes, my husband is a great inspiration” He admitted happily. He had no idea of Dean would even watch this interview. Part of him didn’t want him to, only because this felt like Castiel’s little secret.

Bela hummed pleased with his answer. “Now, I have selected a few scenes from the series to showcase. There are some sensual and explicit content in this series. Would it be safe to say that the more ‘intimate’ areas of Cathaldus and Deasun’s forbidden love affair, cause from personal experiences?”

She was actually asking him if the sex scenes in the books were things he had actually done with Dean. Castiel couldn't possibly turn any darker shade of red as he heard Gabriel laugh and turned away. “Y-yes” He stuttered out before reaching for his glass of water.

“That makes is all the more sultry. I’d like to read the scene of Cathaldus and Deasun meeting” Bela winked at him before she flipped a page of a small stack. Castiel realized she must have selected the scenes she wanted to spotlight ahead of time and printed them out instead of having all nine books with her.

//&// It’s cold, bone chilling, as he shivers where he stands. Cathaldus has run as far as he can, but the last battle has weakened him--he cannot run forever and he needs time to heal. He’s heartbroken, suffering and alone. He should be used to it by now, always helping someone and never getting any further ahead. Sometimes it definitely hurts to still be left alive and fighting. Sometimes he doesn’t even know why he’s still fighting in the first place.

Chest bursting, unable to slow his gasps for the forest air, his heart hammers in his chest like thunder. His feet carry him, slashed on the bottom from the rocks embedded in the earth--the shrubbery and dried vegetation harsh as he has no choice but to flee. From behind him, the Holle wolves, the great big slobbering, sinful ebony creatures with crimson eyes and blood stained teeth howl. It hurts his ears, forcing out a hiss of annoyance. Elven and other creatures would have screamed in agony, lost their minds as their brains seeped from their ears. He cringes, grateful for his higher abilities and yet somehow finds it in him to run faster.

His sword, it’s all he has left besides a flicker of grace that has yet to recharge by the Moon. He spies the silver shape through the shadows of the towering trees, desperate to fly close to it again. He wants nothing, no, he craves nothing more than to feel the blessing he can still get, despite wallowing in the garnet earth with the lesser creatures.

Nearing the edge of the clearing, he stops suddenly, yellow demonic eyes peering at him through the trees. He freezes, the hair on his body standing on end, his wings shuddering in fear. Wolves were miserable, slobbering masses of fur he could take on in his current state--but those eyes, those eyes meant Dragons. Without his grace, without a way to recharge himself and heal…he’d be dead before their Demonic masters ever told them to release his limp lifeless body from the clench of their mighty jaws.

“Father, help me…” he whispers, tightening his grip on the large heavy metal sword, a dozen pairs of eyes staring as he dare not even breathe the mossy scent in the air, of the pine. His toes curl in the dirt, damp and gross as it seeps into his wounds. He swallows thickly, dizzy on adrenaline. One of them roars, men laughing that the bitch wants nothing more than to be let off--that she can smell him, smell his fear. A demon laughs, a lowly cackle different than the others as he crouches down.

Deasun. It has to be.

Cathaldus had heard stories of the man with horns like Lucifer, and eyes darker than the deepest stained red roses. His reputation, his kingdom’s reputation, his family--have haunted the Throne Ceo since he was a Fledgling. Horrors of kingdoms burning, all creatures of all kinds dying and never anyone left alive, no prisoners of war or converts. They were without mercy, without feeling. Cathaldus hates them with a passion. This was what he’s been trained for his entire life. Kill Deasun and claim his throne.

One of the massive beasts breathes fire, the whole area bright with the color of Elven tangerines, glowing in colors of the medicinal tea flowers in the Valley of the Suns. He’s lost here, unsure of what to do. Every scenario only causes the inevitable.

He wonders where he’ll go when he dies, and it’s his only thought when the eager dragon, glinting in silver and cerulean blue scales and covered in onyx armor, runs right to where he is. It’s such a slow moment, a breath in, a push down, as he braces himself and with one final surge, the former Prince of Ceo finds the strength to fight rather than die.

The beast howls. Perhaps death isn’t on the menu, the sword pierced through its upper jaw as it screams. It smells like decay, like burning flesh and smoldering brimstone as it tries to blast him as he glows like white star, angry and desperate. It falls, Cathaldus dropping with it as he dislodges the sword with a groan. Its teeth are still caught his shoulder. Curse him. He can’t take on anything else like this. Falling against one of the trees, his vision foggy at best, Cathaldus waits.

Nothing comes. Everything is still, silent.

“We know you’re there, Ceo. Why don’t you make like the injured bird you are and just come out willingly before I let the hounds devour you, feathers and all.” The other men are laughing. Deasun shifts, another puff of flame shining on the area as he walks with his head high, his horns curling outward, his eyes red.

If he wasn’t who he was, perhaps Cathaldus might think him handsome. His broad shoulders and chest like that of a strong warrior he perhaps could have admired. Instead, Cathaldus would give anything to watch the stone colored eyes turn to ash, to burn his flesh and watch it boil beneath his hands.

“I have to admit, though, that is an impressive display. Dropping a beast so quickly and with such obvious minimal power, it is clear you are a warrior like myself, a soldier. You must be a worthy opponent when you’re not bleeding all over the forest.”

Cathaldus sneers. How ridiculous he is, and speaking as if he has never been defeated in battle--yet whole armies fell at his feet, armies that chanted the Prince's name before they fell to his power and he watched them scream.

“What’s wrong, Deasun? Afraid to take me on without your bloodthirsty pets?”

What other choice did Cathaldus have? He’s out numbered, without a prayer and alone. At least one on one he can say he fought his damndest before they haul his body back to string him up on the tower wall, bloodied and mounted like a prized stag before they take his wings.

He has no doubt they’ll celebrate to hang the Prince of Ceo, and he wonders how many of his own kin he’ll be near to when they do so. If they’ll still be recognizable and if they fought well before they fell. He wonders if his Father’s kin, the Moon Throne and Archangel he admires so very much, still hang mounted.

He stands, trembling but tall. He looks at the moon and thinks of his brethren. He was only to take over because he had fallen in battle. Now, it seemed he would meet the same fate. If anything, he could at least take down the person responsible for the loss he never forgot.

Deasun makes the men fall back as he nears the edge of the forest.

The moonlight surges across him nearly immediately, warm and pleasant as Cathaldus lets his wings unfurl large, wide and ready as they channel the much needed grace to heal. They’ve intimidated some of the men already moving away as the former Prince can’t help but smile, eyes stormy like flint and unafraid.

Deasun falters. His eyes fade, the black emerging as he removes his helmet. He peers at Cathaldus, studying him and licks his lips. Cathaldus watches with nervous eyes as he steps forward.

“Well, I’ll be damned. Rumors of your death have been very much exaggerated, Ceo Prince, though I must admit it definitely hasn’t been very challenging to wage a war when Cielo is missing its only decent general.”

Cathaldus bristles. He raises his sword as the wounds on his body begin to fade slowly. “Is that what you do then, Demon? Bore the army into surrendering before you slaughter them--or do they merely eat their swords to escape your insipid drawls?”

Cathaldus barely misses the first attack. He stumbles, the sound of metal clashing. Deasun is quick, irritated by the insult, and comes at him without mercy. He manages to meet his blade to his opponent’s several more times, sweat upon his brow. He brings up a wing to deflect, causing the Demon to stumble backwards, but is quickly outdone when crimson eyes glow anew. Cathaldus cannot match his speed without his grace, and is outclassed very quickly.

Long, gouging claws dig into the flesh at his shoulder. The man moving in nothing but a blur to the Ceo in a critical state. Cathaldus screams, the Demon's essence is like a poison as it seeps into him. They fall against the ground, the earth tearing the flesh on his already battered body. It hurts. He hasn’t enough power to force it out as Deasun’s breath is hot against his neck.

“Shame. You really are more beautiful than the fallen ones before you, Cathaldus. Such pretty blue eyes.”

The Ceo bashes him in the nose with his forehead. The army moves before Deasun stops them with the rise of his hand and laps at the blood pouring down his face.

The bastard’s laughing as the world spins in cruel mocking like laughter.

Deasun claims the last of the light as his breath is hot against his neck. Tears well in the corner of Cathaldus’ eyes, vision desperate to see the moon one last time.

He hasn’t the energy to even scream when Deasun’s fangs sink into his neck.

“To the victor, go the spoils.” //&//

“Now that is quite an introduction. Both of Deasun, demon Prince of Eso himself and of the two main characters’ first encounter. I love that this is how you ended book two, kept us hungry for book four” Bela speculated as Castiel nodded.

“Yes and it clearly worked!” Castiel embellished.

“This next scene is one of my favorites” Bela announced as she turned the top page over in her hands.

//&//Deasun still had a lot to learn, about Cathaldus, about the world around them. Learn about control.

Looking upwards, the horizon burns in marigolds, tangerines and taffy's--the Esu Prince can feel a stirring. The blood lust coils in his stomach, sickly twisting. Deasun had once again missed out on satisfying the need that was growing, stirring the part of him far uglier than a Demon. He closes his eyes, fangs stinging the inside of his lip.

Wandering through the thick towering green forest, mindful of his steps, here he was now, hungered and having walked more miles in this single stretch since before his wings could carry him. Deasun, until now, was always 100 percent sure he never mistaken about anything. Throwing a look back over his shoulder, however, and admiring the weary male lagging behind him, it's enough proof to know--his winning streak is over. Deasun sighs. For now, at least, the Ceo seems content on glaring daggers at him, having finally lost the will to shout angrily, or spit and ream him out some miles back.

Cathaldus cusses, his good wing angrily lashing out at the branches above them. Deasun turns as they snap with the same intensity he does, pine needles and shattered bark flying around them. His senses are more than aware of each step Cathaldus takes, each heartbeat inside his breast. The more they walk, the more each one is becoming more tired sounding than the last.

For the first time, Deasun can feel something for someone other than himself--and curses everything in existence for allowing Cathaldus to get under his skin. He did this. He had gone off all rageful and sword drawn and ignored Cathaldus’ warning that something felt wrong. That something wasn’t okay.

Deasun growls from deep within his chest in disgust at himself and tugs his wings around himself tightly. He isn't supposed to care what anyone thinks. He should have torn Cathaldus to shreds by now, drank him dry till he watched him turn to ash beneath his hands. Instead, he wondered how he could help, if he could help. Deasun slows his pace in defeat.

The air is cooling, the heat of it long since swallowed by the shadows crawling across the land as the sky burns like painted fire. The sun is setting, it will be dark soon and ahead he can see Imp, soaring above and ever watchful through the trees. He holds a branch away for Cathaldus, and the Ceo passes him in silence, fury still burning in his eyes as he doesn’t even acknowledge Deasun. Had he still been back in his Kingdom, Deasun would have struck him--maybe even killed him. He killed creatures for less than that, after all. He narrows his eyes and swallows down the urge to lash out.

Out of all the ways his life could have gone spiraling into disappointment and betrayal, running across the Neutral lands, avoiding their previous armies and working together--well, mostly together, hadn’t been part of the Esu’s life goals. Not in the slightest.

He chuckles softly when Cathaldus snaps his wing again, a piece just barely missing Deasun’s cheek. He has to admit he’s amused by the change in the Ceo since his capture. He had assumed he had been nothing but a bleeding heart, a weak rival who would be easy to overthrow and conquer. No such foe had ever surprised Deasun, in or out of battle, quite like Cathaldus did now.

Deasun licks his lips as he thumbs some of Cathaldus’ blood off of the leaf his damaged wing brushed up against. He nearly moans at the taste--deciding that there is definitely nothing that tastes better than this lost little Ceo. He grins as his eyes flash black, the heat in his loins growing. Perhaps it was what had changed him, and yet at the same time, made him want to be more wicked than ever.

“I don’t like it when you walk behind me, feels like you're watching every move I make,” Deasun flashes his fangs in the dark as they walk, eyes roaming over the Ceo’s armour. Inside of him, the beast stirs--the dragon’s blood within him is definitely watching--but not for the reasons he thinks. Deasun’s tail snaps behind him with want.

One of these days he’s definitely gonna take all that innocent wrapped up in there and fill it full of corruption. Cathaldus won’t even be able sit down for the passing of the current moon phases. Deasun feels flame burst inside of him and travel across his limbs. He definitely likes that idea…his tail lashes a second time as Cathaldus finally sees the river they were searching for.

Cathaldus drops his weapons, one eye carefully watching over his shoulder, hyper-aware of Deasun’s movements. He winces, blood droplets pooling on the bank as he grunts. Deasun’s eyes find the place Cathaldus is struggling with. Walking over to him slowly, as gingerly as he can manage, he removes the armour plating. Cathaldus stiffens, face lowered but dark. They never stand this close together, not since the night Deasun captured him. The Esu steps back, and for a moment his face falls.

The damage is significant now, glaring. For the first time Deasun feels bad for his nature and himself, his eyes lowering as he shrinks. Cathaldus had said run, and instead the Ceo saved him on a grave miscalculation. Now too low in essence to heal, the river and the moon were all Cathaldus had. The blood is everywhere and now dropping from his fingers into sand.

“I'll keep watch. whatever it is you need to.”

The Ceo rolls his eyes as if it's unlikely, but Deasun is surprisingly true to his word. In fact he watches over him, it’s the least he can do as Cathaldus’ shadowed naked form slips into the water and disappears. Imp lands on the other side of the space as Cathaldus surfaces, and meets Deasun with curiosity. Deasun can’t help but stare, lust stirring low in his belly. Cathaldus is stunning, his hair gleaming in the moon as he rises, his deep cerulean tips reminding him of rare jewels. He licks his lips and ignores the look the Dragon gives him in wonder.

Cathaldus can see their odd exchange as he bathes in the water, the warmth of the earth making the chill less unpleasant. The droplets fall from around his hair, forming on his eyelashes before blinking them away. He feels surrounded with the pair of them like this, guarded and it’s a first for him with his two unlikely companions around, so he takes his time. The damaged wing is unmovable, but the familiar tingle of essence grows stronger as he watches the moon. So he waits, and to his surprise, so do they.

The moon is nearly at its apex when Deasun smells it, a period of time having passed since he began watching the Ceo gently wade through the water and lay floating as if in a trance. Imp growls lowly, scenting the air.


They hadn't gone as far as they normally would have and his guess is that they’re following Cathaldus’ blood trail now, the crimson droplets he never thought about trying to cover. Deasun hops down from his perch, wings wide as he stands with his feet in the shallow water. He slips his cloak off as Imp lowers herself for an escape.

“I hate to cut this short but unless you wanna become marinated Ogre food, Prince Feathers, I suggest you take the cloak and take my Dragon’s offer.”

Cathaldus searches Deasun’s face as the winged Esu stands upright, holding out his cloak for Cathaldus to take. In the moonlight--though it has yet to fully rise--Cathaldus pulls himself upright, the water dripping from him as he walks forward. It's cold as he shivers, Deasun trying to avert his gaze from the nakedness now before him. He's taken aback by his unfavorable companion’s gesture when he gingerly covers himself, avoiding the damaged wing and providing warmth. The cloak smells like Deasun, stinks, in fact. Cathaldus looks down as Deasun’s eyes turn black, now looking towards the East. Cathaldus’ cheeks are warm and in this moment he's thankful for the low light, their taffy color hidden from view. Deasun clears his throat awkwardly.

“We need to go. Imp will take you to the cliffs, I will lead them away and meet you there. The last thing we need is an ambush while you recover.”

Cathaldus frowns. When he looks up, Deasun meets his gaze with determination and little room to argue. For the first time Cathaldus feels something grow inside his chest, something other than anger or disgust for having embarked on such task with his mortal enemy.

He's worried. Just like he had been for that split second back in the field with the Ogres. He smoothes the fabric beneath his fingers and despite his conditioning, he speaks.

“Be careful, Deasun.”

Deasun’s fangs glint in the moonlight as his armor shines. Who would have thought Cathaldus would actually care so much. He snorts.

“You ruin all my fun.”

And with that he's gone, nothing but a shadow as Cathaldus gathers his discarded armor and runs with a beast he isn't sure won't eat him when her master’s back is turned.


The moon has fully risen when Deasun finally swoops across the blanket of night, swooping between clouds and stroking the tree tops. His heart roars in his ears, adrenaline burning in his veins. He is covered in the blood of his enemies, the taste of them still fresh on his tongue. Deasun’s eyes glow red, still high on his victory as he engaged the few that broke away from their clan foolishly. There isn’t a scratch on him, having gone in all furry and ablaze. Cathaldus’ injury having driven his guilt into rage.

Imp roars, the beast taking to the air as he approaches. The glow from the cave is small, Cathaldus must have had just enough charge to shield them. He watches Imp leave, taking to the cliffs above and standing watch, avoiding her master's gaze.

Deasun lands, wings wide and intimidating, the glow of the fire casts his shadow in the light Cathaldus needs. Cathaldus raises his head, slightly annoyed only to stop at the wild, distressed look of the man before him. The Esu is breathing harshly, eyes darker than coal and brimstone. His fangs, and chin--the front of him is splattered--decorated in crimson. Cathaldus swallows as the armor drops away. The still naked Ceo pulls one wing around himself like a shield as Deasun prowls towards the flames.

“What happened to you?” he asks, voice low and cautious.

Deasun chuckles, a sound that sends ice across Cathaldus’ spine. It’s twisted, evil. He’s suddenly back inside the Kingdom of the Damned, chained to the wall against the stone floor. Deasun stops in front of him, eyes of black fading to a deep shade of green Cathaldus has never seen in nature. His stomach flips nervously at the smile painted on those lips.

“Dinner,” is all he replies, his hand coming up as the Prince stiffens when the long nails upon the Esu’s fingers trace his chin down to his throat. “You, however…” he licks his lips and growls lowly, a sound that rumbles around them, “Look like you need some assistance.”

Cathaldus looks at him strangely. He’s never seen the demon act this way, but something about it stirs him--a warmth in his guts that sends shivers through him and go even lower somehow. He swallows roughly as Deasun reaches around. Cathaldus hisses when the wound on his back is pressed upon.

Deasun licks the ruby fluid from his fingers and moans, “Still better than they were…”

Cathaldus huffs as the Demon rises to his feet and sits behind him.

For a moment nothing happens, but he can smell the other creature. Deasun’s sweat suddenly smells pleasing, and the twisting in his stomach grows, swells. He flushes, his face burning when Deasun’s breath caresses his skin. He shivers.

“This is going to hurt…”

Before Cathaldus can even respond, his voice rings out loudly, echoing around them. The pain is awful, rushing the blood through him as if set on fire and every part of him is screaming in agony. Deasun growls, fangs sinking into the meaty flesh of his shoulder and almost all at once everything grows silent, detached and fading. Cathaldus can hear the sound of his heart slowing with every passing moment.

When released from his torment, he sinks into the arms of evil with eyes of red and begs for mercy. Deasun’s wings wrap around him, their bodies pinned together as the wet heat of Deasun’s tongue licks his neck. To Cathaldus’ surprise, the Esu healed him. The Ceo feels fevered.

The fire crackles, Imp growls from outside the entrance and the night is still. The Father gazes upon their forbidden embrace with healing eyes, his light beginning to revive Cathaldus’ essence. Deasun’s fingers trace his skin, their hearts beating against their breasts in quickened pace.

“I’m going to take you like this…”

Cathaldus swallows, lost in the sensations of their skin molding, his body too weak to protest, burning alive from the inside out as Deasun presses him into the soft furs beneath them. He drifts, dizzy and gasping, shuddering and confused. He’s never felt something like this, but it’s like falling, flying, burning and being chilled all at once. He’s drowning in feelings that rush him like waves on the sea, every one of them more intense than the last as Deasun’s mouth grazes the flesh hardened between his legs, as he probes at his body’s opening with his own.

Cathaldus has never heard such noises leave his mouth, and every time he does, Deasun moans. He pins Cathaldus beneath him, every inch of them together--filling him like he had with dark magic, sinking into his heat, tasting his flesh beneath his lips. He tugs at his hair, claws tracing through the white locks, tangling them along his fingers. Cathaldus’ wings ripple, shudder against the Ceo again, each time more intensely than the last.

The air is thin, both of them panting, the sound of their flesh louder and louder as Deasun pulls the warrior’s legs around his waist. He growls, wings opening wide as Cathaldus’ burst out from behind him, sprawled and feathers rippling with starlight and unable to be contained. He sees the essence stirring inside the eyes desperate to lock with his own, swirling as he begins to charge. Deasun’s eyes fade, the earth tones swallowed once again by his darkness. Deasun snaps himself into Cathaldus hard enough, his head tossed back in the most beautiful scream Deasun’s ever heard, the Ceo’s nails dragging his blood from his forearms where they pierced his flesh.

Cathaldus is glorious like this, a perfect bitch as his mouth lays open in a whine that fuels his need, the Ceo’s face as pink as the nipples on the bust of the women he’s taken the same way. He rules the Ceo like this, controls all that power, all that righteousness and strength. All of Cathaldus is his to abuse and rule with the pounding of his leaking cock, and it might just be the most beautiful thing the Esu has ever witnessed.

From behind them the flames spark, bursting into the air and meeting the large spread of the dark beast like wings hovering around them. Cathaldus is in pieces, nothing coherent falls from his lips as he chants in the language of his people. It’s wrong, it’s blasphemous. Deasun captures him in a kiss as he sends his cock as deep as it will go, urging on the pleasure Cathaldus is sure will break his spine.

It’s like tasting winter, the Ceo’s essence burning brightly now, charged and filling his vessel with white magic as it mixes with the heat of Fire, the taste of brimstone and ash. Both of them glow, eyes burning and bold. A struggle beginning to happen when Cathaldus pushes him down into the stone, causing him to sink where he now straddles Deasun with the strength in his legs. Deasun moves, his tail coming up to fasten a grip on Cathaldus’ hands, holding them behind his back.

“Look at you, fallen and corrupt, panting in my seed and on my sex like a whore,” Deasun growls, claws digging into the bronzed skin, sweat beads dripping from the white locks of snow colored hair steadily. Cathaldus laughs when it burns Deasun, their magic incompatible as he bounces from his knees, sinks down and growls louder than even the Esu himself.

“And yet you stoop as low as engaging in such things with me. I am not the only one with a stain on them. I wonder if you’ll feel shame when my name crosses those wicked lips. Then we will see which one of us is the whore.”

Deasun groans, a sound he’s never heard himself make before when Cathaldus rolls his hips, his wings wide and large before they lash out to leave red welts against the Demon’s skin. They’re sharp and cut along him instantly before Cathaldus does it again, and again.

Their movements are frantic in their frenzy now, angered and fighting for control when Deasun flips them back over. Cathaldus comes, Deasun’s name on his lips, stomach painted in his seed. The Ceo’s name is growled against his ear, deafening in its tone, the Esu’s fangs grazing his skin as he comes with a shudder before they collapse in a heap. Their wings drape them in darkness, protecting them from the shame of their actions.

For the first time, they say nothing as their breaths slows and their hearts calm. They stare at one another in the flickering flame, wrapped in their wings and wait for sunrise. Neither of them are sure if the smell of what they did will ever wash away. //&//

“That is an extremely hot scene for their first time together. Deasun is quite a complex character. Many of your fans love his dragon Imp. What made you want a dragon for that character?” Bela voices while fanning herself in amusement. Eyes playful.

“Something else that has always fascinated me, were dragons. Its one of the few creatures that is also found throughout the world’s many cultures and history. Some in mythical aspects and some use them more as a metaphor. Every version is interesting. I like the idea of a demon prince having such a pet, and a connection. The demons of Eso are part dragons which makes them extremely strong. I liked the idea of him having a companion.” Castiel informed her.

“Now was there any inspiration for Imp? Or was she born of your imagination?” Bela quizzed.

“Born of my imagination” He stated with a smile.


Chapter Text

“Now throughout the series, they come across countless obstacles, but in book five, the last scene is hard to read where Deasun lashes out physically at Cathaldus” Bela starts and Castiel suddenly can’t hear the rest of what she says. He had written his and Dean’s ‘accident’ into the series as a means to deal with what had happened. As a way for him to be at peace and move forward after he had forgiven Dean.

Thankfully Bela didn’t seem to have noticed his lack of attention, yet he could practically feel Gabriel boiling at the reminder of what his brother held onto to crucify Dean at every chance. Bela started to read.

//&//Amongst the open field covered in a bright palette of wild flowers, the wind brushes through Cathaldus’ hair and feathers as he spreads his appendages wide. It’s playful, carefree and innocent, fresh and renewed. It was hard to believe that they had been running again, worried about another fight so close to their last the a span of so few nights. Ahead of him, the horizon burns in fire, the Mother descending to allow the Father to rise in her place as the Ceo prepares for night fall. The sky will soon glisten with a thousand stars of his ancestors, the air dry and void of rain.

Where they’ve stopped, Cathaldus is worried about being noticed.

They’re both exposed here, however, despite the beauty he sees. Both left too wide open and easy targets without any way to prevent being snuck up upon. Cathaldus checks his bow again, his sword glinting at his side in the fading sunset. Being here and not looking for shelter is far from wise, always knowing they’re being hunted, especially now. Deasun is unmoving and distant despite the obvious.

The last time they were close together, they were slick in heat, flushed in desire…Deasun’s admission was clear. Cathaldus could hardly believe it. Then just as it all seemed hopeful, here they were, back to where they started.

Deasun had fallen for him and Cathaldus has reciprocated. Now, though, Deasun was cold, the opposite of the inviting nature he had been accustomed to all these months before in slow glimpses. Cathaldus frowns, watching the sky.

Had he done something wrong as they fled again? Why was he so avoidant and full of rejection?

Cathaldus angrily kicks the ground. Ever since the winged Horses of his home had arrived near them several nights before, they had to move on just when they got comfortable in the forests. It seems safe where they are, the scouts having gone for now, but if they were hunting for them both, it might be wiser to head North towards the peaks.

He shivers at the thought of the snow, Cathaldus worrying for how his companion would fare in the white capped peaks, but it would be the last place they would look for the Esu and assume they stayed together. Imp stirs, laying still, tail thrashing irritably and on guard, Cathaldus closes his eyes and breathes deeply.

The tension is thick, heavy in the air from the Esu who stands facing away from the Fallen Prince. With every thwarted attempt at going about their goals, the less humane aspects of Deasun shed away with each passing moment. The man before him that once secured his chains, looked at him with bloodlust and danger is surfacing and Cathaldus feels like perhaps his feelings have been misplaced. He stares at his hands grimly. Perhaps this is why Ceo’s never mate and require physical contact. It feels as if he could be dying.

Cathaldus watches as their surroundings grow darker still, shadows beginning to blanket the space around them. There's an ache in his chest that feels worse than any wound inflicted in battle, swallowing him whole. Deasun’s silence is maddening as he doesn’t move, doesn’t speak. Perhaps this was a trap the entire time and he fell right into it. Yet, somehow he knows that’s not true, not after what they’ve shared.

Falling from the heavens to this place from his home hurt far less than his whole being hurts right now.

“Deasun…please, say something?” he asks, voice quiet.

Cathaldus’ hurt is obvious, laced with confusion, scratchy, as his inner essence swells like choppy waves against his insides. He holds his breath when the Esu Prince doesn’t respond. His throat tightens when he squeezes his eyes shut. We’re not safe here.

“What’s the point in running anymore…are we really to spend our days like this for the rest of our lives?"

The sound of the low vibrato chills the Ceo outright, his teary eyes lifting to see nothing but a blank expression and the blackest eyes the Esu has ever had staring back at him. Deasun’s breath is labored, hidden when he was turned by his cloak. His fangs are fully displayed.

“My purpose was simple, easy. Now I lay no better than the land dwellers, their cattle and their steeds. We smell like their filth, hold the lashes of our tongues despite our superiority and you…” Deasun growls lowly, wings starting to rise, “You act as though there is nothing wrong with what it is we have become, strayed from our paths, our birthrights.”

Cathaldus audibly swallows, stepping back and cautious. His stomach twists sickly when Deasun’s tail lashes dangerously behind him, and Imp rises behind him--eyes glowing and red.

“Deasun…” Cathaldus lowers his wings, “You are never such a common creature, and your purpose is simple, remember? Together, united...No more fighting.” He eyes Imp questioningly, but her roar is deafening and Deasun turns, his own silencing her into submission. His bloodlust is in full force, the ground quaking below them as Deasun begins to glow a familiar shade of crimson.

“All I know how to do is fight. Did you really expect to change me, Ceo? Did you think you could teach a Beast love? Did you think finding love would suddenly fix everything in your perfect world? Allow you to go home when you got what you wanted from me!?”

Cathaldus closes his eyes, the air turning cold, thunder rolling in the distance. His blue stare meets Deasun’s, unwavering. When the yellow glow illuminates their space, Imp growls as she circles them.

“Whatever this is, Deasun…we can work through it,” his voice still low, gentle. Deasun is in pain, and somewhere inside of him, he wants to remove it, to fix it. It isn’t a lie he longs for home, for the beauty of his Kingdom and his kin, but to have found what he did here, to have found knowledge, and love, Deasun and Imp. Using the Esu to get what he wanted was never a part of the plan, not even when he thought he would gut him and feast on him gluttonously.

Fire and water. Hot and cold. They were opposites in every way and yet, all those times they drew their swords, when they fought together, when their lips met and their skin was slicked in one another--they had never been more complete, more whole. Cathaldus could see it in those depths of grassy green, untainted by darkness, bright and reflecting the same thing he was feeling, too. Surely Deasun was mistaken. Nothing that could feel this way, make him experience things not even his power, his essence or his spells, could be wrong, could be so awry.

When Deasun roars in fury, Cathaldus spreads himself wide, open and exposed with all of his being present. He plants a hand against his lover's left shoulder quickly, mustering all of his speed. Whatever hell Deasun is experiencing, Cathaldus will free him. Raise him back up. Deasun repays him with a blow to the face. His roar is faded when Cathaldus falters, falling forward when the Esu pulls back.

The world around them silences. It takes several moments before Cathaldus raises his hand to the left side of his face. Deasun’s claws have made their mark. The Ceo’s vision is blurry, clouded on the left as the smell of his own blood is heavy and the splatter is everywhere. He’s been shredded like an animal. The sob he had been keeping in escapes in shock.

Deasun stands frozen, horrified at the blood on his fingers, staring at them like he can’t process the course of his actions.

Cathaldus’ raises his stare upwards. He’s never felt so many feelings, not even when he laid betrayed and unable to heal when he fell. This, this is certainly without doubt the worst thing Cathaldus has ever had the pleasure of experiencing and it has nothing to do with his eye being damaged, or his skin being mauled. His glow turns dark blue, and Deasun trembles, his eyes full of tears and cast down. He bows his head.

“Cathaldus…I didn’t--I’m sorry...” Deasun’s legs buckle when he steps forwards, his stomach twists as though he drank from the dead.

“This is what I get for my loyalty? For my love?” the Ceo growls, his visible eye storming enough that when the lightning flashes above them Deasun winces. Imp shrinks back, her low sound unsure of what she’s seeing. The clouds behind them are black and a sky of stars is swallowed in its fury. The rain feels like shards of stone against his skin. Cathaldus was never a pushover, weak by any means but Deasun can see now what power lays before him, and rather than have it by his side, all of it is directed at him.

He closes his eyes, waiting for the blow that’s surely coming, when he sees Cathaldus rise. His wing is streaked in blood splatter, all of them out and turned in rage. He shrinks, realizing now he’s afraid. Deasun digs his claws into the ground, waiting for the strike, the one he knows has ended soldiers in his armies. He knows the stories.

I love you…Please...

When it doesn’t come, Deasun raises his wings and sits up cautiously. Searching around them, the rain cold and blinding, everything is eerily silent. The Esu curls his wings around himself. The empty field and the dark clouds left above him might actually be worse than what he had expected.

Cathaldus is gone.


North. It was the only thought Cathaldus had as he flew forward, higher than he’d ever flown since he fell and faster than he thought he could ever go. The clouds followed, roared like the rage flowing inside his veins, and the rain fell heavily like the tears that wouldn’t stop with every desperate, pathetic heave of his chest.

It wasn’t long before the rain quickly turned to ice, storming like his essence, sharp and splintered, when Cathaldus finally fell into the white wasteland beneath him. He landed with an angered scream that haunted the peaks around him, powder kicking up around him, his screams even louder than the howling wind that whipped at his feathers. Cathaldus sobbed till he was numb, till he felt like he did when he was fighting, like he had when he lead his armies into war, enslaved the Neutrals. He was cold, bitter, like when he slaughtered his enemies, their blood on his hands. Now it was their hearts, shattered like ice crystals and jagged and it was something he would never wash away.

Cathaldus touches his face, closing his eyes as he mutters the spell that swirls the snow crystals to beads of water before him. His fingers move, wrist twisting as he controls it, watching it move as he concentrates and his essence ignites. He observes the droplets dancing in front of him, senseless even at their beauty before its cold seeps into the wounds with the sting of an arrow. The Ceo hisses, the vision returning to both azure oculars properly as he takes in his porcelain surroundings. Lifting more of the tiny crystal shapes that glisten in the glow of his grace, littering the ground, he wraps himself in their cold. He holds them close to his heart, imagining the feel that the heat of Deasun’s being used to give him before letting it banish the feeling entirely. Fire melted Ice, how could he ever have thought they would be compatible?

Gathering his strength, Cathaldus melts the tiny frozen droplets of ice in hands, using their reflection to check the damage left behind by their encounter. The scars aren’t red, but they’re forever a part of his bronzed skin now, and though recharging with the Father would fade them some…but they would never leave. Deasun had branded him, he was now both a traitor and rejected by even a discarded Esu. Cathaldus had never been lower than he was right now. He found himself suddenly very alone and for the first time even, afraid.

Cathaldus swallows the lump in his throat and breathes in slowly as he stares into the face of someone even he does not recognize. His eye is white, functioning but beside the other one, the beauty of it is vanished, erased for good. The marks make him flawed, more monster than Ceo.

The droplets fall through his fingers as he closes his eyes in crushing defeat. No one wanted him now, Not home, not Deasun, and right now, not even himself.

Standing, Cathaldus puts his hood over his head, shadowing any possibility of being seen. Wrapping his wings around the material billowing in the wind, he looks up towards the cliffs for somewhere to go, even if it’s just till the sun can rise. The hood will hide him from anyone he might run into, but most of all, hide him from himself. All at once the bite in the wind, the rage in the swirling of the ice, fall away and all is still. Raising his wings, Cathaldus disappears into the dark of a cave covered in large icicles. Hardly able to see his hand in front of him, the Ceo Prince closes his eyes, and only the sound of his anguish lulls him to sleep.


The shine of the stars against the ebony backdrop seem faded as Deasun turns his gaze back up to the stars glistening in the sky, the backdrop matching the feeling in his chest. The dark Prince still stands where he fell, unmoving in the line of blood splatter from his lover’s face.

What have I done?

He’s never quite experienced something like this before, and despite the many moons Cathaldus seemed to cause something new--nothing compares to the one swallowing every aspect of him to his core now. Devastated, he could swear a few of them seem to vanish from view as the wind of Imp’s wings sweeping downwards with a growl disturb him. The Esu closes his eyes as she lands, head bowed before nuzzling beneath his chin. The images flood him with her low broken sound, and for the first time he does what he’s been forbidden as the crimson tears welled in his eyes.

The snow, the cold of it, the sound of Cathaldus’ scream and the sound of his tears steal his breath, his beating heart feels torn from his chest. His stomach lurches when his memory surges forward to zoom in on the damage he caused at his own hand. His beautiful blue bird, his magnificent, brilliant Cathaldus…The sound that escapes his lips when his sinful dark companion pulls away is one in which he never knew he was capable of as he crumbles where he stands.

I’m sorry…

Turning, Imp makes a low noise in her throat, eyes glowing as she gestures to the cliffs towering above them, each one of them feeling unconquerable and forbidden to the demon as he stares longingly at the place he drove the Ceo to. Now away from his arms, away from the shelter of his wings and blade, Deasun is torn apart. Trembling, claws buried in his skin when he clenches his fists, the feeling of rage, of regret and the fear of what happens now rise. They come from somewhere Deasun didn’t realize he had in him, places Cathaldus must have carved into his stony exterior, forever etched and marked out.

Throwing his head back, the roar that escapes him when his eyes go black causes Imp to bow to her master, nuzzling into his wings, ready to catch him when he goes limp with the weight of his realizations. //&//

“Was this difficult to write? I must say you truly grasp the confusion both were feeling. A forbidden love in all the ways of the common laws of their kingdoms and their own nature really grips the reader here.” Bela interjects as she flips to the next page she plans to read.

Castiel is a bit numb. The circumstances of the fight and what had actually inspired it were completely different, yet, had fit so perfectly into the series’ ongoing plot. “It honestly just poured out of me” He replies with a slight huff. He had felt at ease before, but this particular part would always only remind him of what had happened between him and Dean.

“This next part is quite powerful” Bela adds after accepting his vague answer.

//&// The Father has risen, fallen, changed and shifted many times now. To Cathaldus they feel like a lifetime, but they’re only halfway through the completion of the phases and the night of worship, the one night Cathaldus must pray to his Father in his full form has yet to pass. Once again, the Father is moving on to the morning as the Mother dries Cathaldus’ tears. He wipes them away like he has now for many darkened nights, and with a breath he holds till the blood pounds inside his ears, pulls himself together.

In the glare of the golden light warm against his skin, soaked in by his feathers and gentle to his skin, a warrior--a hunter--leaves, and the former Prince regains his composure. Despite the feeling to quit, he continues on somehow, survives even though when the Father courses through his veins Cathaldus becomes broken, falling harder than ever and damaged. It is only then, however, that he allows Deasun a thought, to have any power over him as he mourns what they once had, what he thought they once were. Little does the Warrior of the Sky know that below him, pacing and determined, a rejected, shamed Demon is no different than he is and wild like that of an injured predator. Deasun is unrecognizable, desperate and wasting away.

Having barely moved from his position, Deasun crouches by the quiet water’s edge, staring at his reflection where a pair of expressionless moss sunken eyes stare at him. His body aches, stiff and weak, a shell of his former self as he allows the guilt, the despair swallow him whole.

Above him, Imp’s roar is loud but it barely registers as he clutches one of the beautiful reflective feathers in his hand that currently looks blue like the surrounding sky and water, like the eyes he never thought he would miss like he misses now.

Landing with a grunt, the towering beast stares at him, tail thrashing and growls in disgust when she drops yet another kill beside him, still warm, fresh. His insides scream, his eyes barely flickering to yet another thing he refuses to eat. Deasun can feel his insides clench, the Esu is uncaring as he grows closer to his fate.

Clearly annoyed, Imp lets out a roar that covers him in heat, the stench of torn flesh, ash and brimstone. Turning towards her, the look in her eyes like she’s waiting for his fight, for his snap for her disobedience, makes her look almost hopeful. He sighs, only moving to give relief to his back, a shake of his wings. Deasun has given up.

Imp rages.

He’s pinned, caught off guard, as Imp surrounds them both in raging flames, her fire stinging at parts of him, everything in shades of ruby, anger and betrayal. He lays on his back, eyes wide below her as he ends up her enemy, going after him like she does the Ceo’s who become mangled, destroyed. Deasun’s heart skips, falters and fear has never been more evident inside of him than it is now.

Her claws are sharper than his sword, drawing blood from his flesh and the smell of it forces the change he has ignored, denied himself. Eyes black over, everything she’s doing is igniting his bloodlust as her large wet tongue laps at the liquid pooling beneath him before her fangs tear at his flesh. It’s a white blinding heat as Deasun screams, and all at once the flood of images, memories of him and Cathaldus consume him, burn him from the inside as he falls victim to the beast of his existence, his makers.

It hits him all at once, the sound of his own heart fading as he can smell their sweat, their heated sex as they formed a beast, consumed in their lust. Imp’s recall of his blood, the smell of his own pleasure, sex make his bloodlust grow as she shows him how he looks in those moments, his teeth in Cathaldus’ skin. He watches the eyes of his soul, rolling back when he drinks of the being beneath him, when he moans completed, blessed and blissful. The echo of Cathaldus doing the same drives him higher.

Deasun roars, seeing the swipe of Cathaldus’ sword, the way his eyes looked full of determination, of fear as he fought for Deasun’s well-being with the Ogres. He hadn’t seen it, hadn’t seen it the way she did. He growls, images of Cathaldus and the way she saw him look when they were alone together, laying with the Esu as he slept, the way he said his name, the way he would love Imp with nearly the same gentleness when he’d caress her muzzle, lay gentle kisses on her brow.

She lets go with a fury that quakes the ground around them, her eyes as red as his own when he tosses her aside, wings wide and large as he burns in his own flames. Everything is consumed in their flames. She loves Cathaldus almost as much as him.

Panting, they stare one another down as she growls, roaring again before her tail lashes out angrily. To Deasun’s surprise, he blocks it, his bracer taking the hit when he licks his lips. His limbs are moving, strong and determined to fight. Imp’s skin is punctured and Deasun realizes now that she made him drink, her taste like home, like coals and ash. Gave him the very thing keeping her alive aside from their joined souls. Stumbling down, falling at her feet, Deasun bows, ashamed and with a clear head.

“I’m so sorry, girl...”

Imp narrows her eyes, the weight of them heavy before nuzzling him, his face buried in her scales as she protects him, coils around him possessively. Her heart beats steady, strong for the pair of them as he catches his breath, as his body renews and repairs. With a low, loving growl, the Dragon nuzzles him, snorting into his hair when one last image floods his mind.

Above the cliffs, away from the water's edge and hundreds of miles behind them is Cathaldus, his armor gone, the cape discarded as he lays exposed to the sun and surrounded by flowers. He’s nearly glowing, bronzed and smiling. The breeze ruffles his spread wings, tosses his wild looking hair around him like a crown. He looks content, and yet he can feel the weight of Imp’s instincts, the darkness in them, the sadness. That’s when Deasun approaches him, kissing him deeply as they roll around and their laugh is louder than thunder, louder than anything.

It was the first time Deasun had accepted their arrangement, the first move in their strange, forbidden courting, the moment that broke his control before he gave himself over, burying inside the Ceo’s heated sex until he couldn’t move again, bringing them together in pleasure neither of them had ever known.

Deasun groans as it fades to an image of Cathaldus alone, hand wrapped around his bow and looking sorrowful before he sees himself, Deasun, clutching the feather and a ghost of who he once was. She feels for both of them, is worried for him, for herself and the being above the place where they now are. Deasun falters, frowns. His beloved and oldest friend…And he would have betrayed her.

Opening his eyes, looking up at her, Imp drops the lone little flower into his palm. Deasun stares at the tiny iris flower before the realization fills him with a feeling that could break his very essence into a million pieces. He presses deep kisses into her rough scales, his apologies deep and sorrowful.

“I’m so sorry…” Deasun mutters, bringing himself to look at the gentleness in his companion's eyes, “I would never leave you alone...” She gives a mournful sound, and he realizes he almost did despite his promise, their bond.

Esu companions cannot survive without their master for very long once they are disconnected through death, and if a Dragon is lost in battle, the Dragon inside an Esu weakens, creating a disadvantage for a Ceo like Cathaldus. They affect one another, need each other. “He wouldn’t have let me either...” he whispers, missing his lover as his heart grows full of sadness for them both.

I love you so much, Imp…but I feel so undone and lost without him...

Deasun can’t help but feel crushed as she pulls him close like she had when they were young, when it was them versus their training, the cruelty of Esu life and their expected path. Time passes slowly and as the day sets, the world only about them, lost inside one another’s heads.

Moving sometime later, Deasun having finally slept inside the coil of her surrounding him, Imp breathes fire against the spot beside them. Deasun sits up, straightens, worried for a moment in his dreamy state. When the ground is exposed and charred though, he realizes they’re safe. The place she burns glistens in the setting golds of the sun.

Staring at it, his King’s words come back to him, a memory of trying to teach him the technique that he would once give to his betrothed. A single object, usually the feather of their first Ceo kill, from the wings they kept as trophies encased in glass was given the night of their marriage, starting their bond before completing the rituals.

Deasun turns, studying her as she sits very still. Around them another moment is passing before the former dark Prince sighs heavily. Running his hands through his hair, Deasun clutches the flower close.

“You are mad, Imp…absolutely mad,” he says softly, but his lips curl with his words, a laugh almost escaping him as he stares at the water. Something like hope pulses through him, a lighter feeling, and he suddenly wants to spread his wings wider than ever before.

“But absolutely beautiful.”

Imp roars towards the sky, her wings wide as she rears upwards, her flame large and turned skyward.

Deasun is going to get Cathaldus, and nothing is going to stop him.


The cliffs make things more difficult at this height, and Cathaldus grunts harshly as he lands a little wobbly into the snow outside his cave. Everything he needs, is used to gathering easily is not up this far, instead residing in the abyss below. He hates leaving, hates going down to the world below him. He feels exposed, and every sound, every glance, makes him hopeful even after all the nights between them, that it will be Deasun, Imp and life just goes on. Cathaldus sighs.

Hiding here has given him the chance to clear his head, but to survive, he still has to go farther than before and everytime he leaves he worries about exposing himself, worries about being seen by his enemies and ambushed. After all, he is once again alone, there is no one to have his back should he be buried in his needs, traditions and tasks. Staring up at the sky, Cathaldus worries his prayer will make him vulnerable. He waits, watching his Mother slip away with an overwhelming sadness.

Settling down, legs crossed and stretching his wings, Cathaldus breathes in as the large image of his Father, almost as large as when he is at home, as he blesses the skyline before him. Inside his hands are the things he needs.

When fully exposed, Ceo tradition makes them thank their Father for their life renewed each night, for his blessing. Though not as pure as the gifts in Heaven, Cathaldus still wants to give thanks, as he is still heard and healed every night despite leaving his Kingdom. The Prince thumbs more of the little Iris flowers he’s smitten with for their husky yet gentle smell, he watches the water from a spring despite it not being like that of his home, and finally a single feather, cleaned, groomed and pristine he lays them in front of him gently. Closing his eyes, Cathaldus chants, prays as his wings raise and his essence rises.

The world falls away when this happens, and despite his vulnerability, Cathaldus enjoys his trance and meditation, never as calm and at peace than he is now. Close by, though, the Ceo is still watched carefully, protected.

Deasun stays crouched, watching closely from his position, Imp hovering around him to try and keep the cold from the height and snow away from his body. Despite everything, the urge to protect his lover from danger like he has every time for months was too strong to ignore. He wants to make sure he’s okay, even if he doesn’t know he’s there, doesn’t want to see him again.

Imp peers at the moon, feeling her master’s conflict, watching the large yellow sphere crowd the ebony and silver sky. They’re unmoving, watching, as the familiar sight of blue light fills the cavern, Cathaldus’ very soul filling the space as his vessel is still.

The objects around him float, hovering before they separate into particles of dust that swarm with the swirling light, dancing in a way that always awed Deasun, stirred things within his chest. Moving closer, cautious and quiet, Deasun ignites his own essence from beneath his hooded figure, silent as he moves with speed and precision. His red glow is purple against the glow of Cathaldus’, and the warmth of it, the hum of his power is tempting enough to make him want to reach out and take the Ceo against him. Closing his eyes, Deasun lays the object before pulling his hand away as though it burns him. He commits the image of Cathaldus to his memory, treasuring the beauty of his essence one more time before slipping away up the rock face.

Deasun waits, laying against the lip above the entrance, unseen and pushes his insecurity and hurt away. Now isn’t the time.

When Cathaldus opens his eyes, his glow subsiding, he feels slightly disorientated. Everytime he prays now, the feeling is stronger, he swallows gently.

“Thank you,” he says softly, “for never leaving me alone.”

Cathaldus gazes at the moon, feels its energy before the little object on the ground before him catches his attention as his wings lower. He inspects it, the sphere glistens in the now silver light of the moon, the sky above a subtle low glow from his Ceo brethren having performed the same prayer. He mourns his home once more before pushing it away.

The glass is cool in the palm of his hand, nearly weightless, despite it being the size of an apple. The little flower inside, covered in drops of dew, sparkles softly and his heart clenches. They’re his favorite flowers, the ones from the field where everything changed between them. Moving towards the cave's entrance, Cathaldus is disappointed to only see the glowing eyes of an old friend, her growl low as she approaches across the vast open landscape of snow. Cathaldus sighs, allowing her entrance. He hugs her in a clutching grip when she nuzzles into him and invades his new space.

“Thank you, my friend…it is beautiful, but I suppose he isn’t here, is he?”

Imp growls lowly, nuzzling close, scenting against him and affectionate. There are no sounds, both of them unmoving as the yellow slits in Deasun’s eyes stare up at a clear sky. Deasun can smell him the way she does, see him as he pulls from their bond. The ache in his voice nearly makes him falter, how he misses him so. It’s been nearly two fortnights since their encounter. He waits, tiring inside from drawing essence, still recovering.

“I miss him,” Cathaldus tells her gently, and Deasun can see him clutch the sphere to his chest painfully. He swallows his sob as Imp curls at the Ceo’s feet. Cathaldus sits, stroking along her muzzle and admiring the gift for some time, as Deasun grows cold. He closes his jaw tightly, trying to prevent his fangs from chattering.

“I’m not even mad anymore. I’ve made peace with that, I have…but I worry I’ll fall for it again, that I think it will be different and nothing will change,” Cathaldus says suddenly, looking at Imp sadly and with apology, “I never should have left…”

His admission is sad and the tears in Deasun’s eyes short out his ability to think, to focus as he finds himself losing their connection. From inside the cave, Imp snorts, annoyed, as she lifts her head. He clears the crimson droplets away from his shamrock eyes before making his decision.

Though he hadn’t meant to expose himself, it hurts, it’s maddening. Landing softly, he removes his hood, the cold through his hair as he holds the snow in his hands,“De aqua in glaciem, si a gelu viribus uti. Forma, protegere et cingite, ut in flammis conflandum neque frigidus es, et circum dabunt te plene.”

He cringes, growling at the pain of a magic that isn’t his, a spell that isn’t his native tongue. Imp stands, daring to dart when Cathaldus looks up to the low light now before him, both hues of reds and blues. Deasun’s hands are bleeding, frost bitten and damaged. Cathaldus scrambles to help, but when Deasun steps back, the Ceo stops.

In the Esu’s hands is his spell, his ability to form sharp ice crystals before using them like daggers. Horrified, he gapes in both amazement and fear before Deasun grunts, trying to sound stronger than he feels.

“I love you, Prince Cathaldus, Lord of Ceo, Ruler of the Sky…and this, is my admission, my promise and my apology. I bear no weapons, no bloodlust nor fight towards you. I offer my servitude, my life and my crown at your feet…I give up my flame, my soul for you, my love…” Deasun’s eyes close, a gasp as the spell tapers off and the now watered down drops of blood litter the ground.

Falling to his knees, Deasun laughs pathetically, “In my Kingdom…we give the feathers of our first kills to our beloved…before we mate for the rest of our lives to ensure blood lines stay royal and pure…”

Staring down at his claws, unable to face the scars he made against the beauty of his love, his everything, Deasun shivers in the cold, “Please, I never meant to harm you, to etch such beauty with my ugliness…I wish to be forgiven, to be given a purpose, I cannot go on without--” his throat tightens, eyes screwing shut, his voice so small, “Please…”

Darting forward, the sob escapes Cathaldus before he even pulls Deasun into his arms. The sound of his relief, of his hurt and his surprise overtake them as Deasun stays still, buried against the Ceo’s chest, the pain in his hands forgotten as he once again hears his heartbeat. Deasun could die happy with a moment like this as his last, and the realization is calming, makes him smile.

“I love you, Deasun…what were you thinking?!” he hisses, tears still covering his cheeks when he looks down at the damage to his hands, his claws and Deasun stares up at the hue of blue that gives him all the reason he needs to live, tears he didn’t realize he was shedding cascading down his cheeks.

“That you needed to know, know all of it and that I was sorry…That even now you are more beautiful than ever.” He thumbs the place where the scars lay against Cathaldus’ skin, admiring the white of the one eye before gently stroking through his hair like so many times before, “I just wanted to see you one last time, to tell you I would stop at nothing to make you my mate, Cathaldus. You are worth a lifetime of anything you think I deserve, but that I will always try to win you over…should you not accept my gift.”

Cathaldus closes his eyes, trembling as he buries his face in the scent of Deasun’s hair, holding him closer than he ever has anything. “How do I know you mean it?” he whispers, terrified it won’t be enough, that it will happen again and Deasun relaxes.

“Should you think I am unworthy, I’ll gladly allow you to slay me to stop the war, my horns will be yours for the taking, Cathaldus.” Cathaldus freezes, unable to breathe when he pulls them apart to stare at him.

Deasun lowers his gaze, “You have my word.”

“I would never...”

He feels sick, as Imp nuzzles his shoulder. With a low growl, she moves to nuzzle Deasun sadly, accepting his promise for the sake of their love. Deasun kisses her gently and it moves Cathaldus to grab him roughly. Deasun eyes him, surprised, swallowing before Cathaldus crushes their lips together.

Deasun moans, and Cathaldus partially sobs into his mouth. They’re a swirl of ice and fire, tongues desperate to remember the taste of one another as they thread their hands into each other’s hair. Their kisses grow desperate, yet they’re soft, gentle, like they never have been and the feeling threatens to burst their chests open. It isn’t long before Cathaldus is crushing them into the stone floor when he shoves Deasun over, his body starting to guide him, their fight be damned. He needs Deasun, on him, around him, in him. His hands find the tassel of Deasun’s cloak and slide into the softness of them.

Their robes discard, removed slower than the times before, gentle but desperate, needy. Each kiss is deeper than the next, nipping, memorizing and leaving both of them dizzy as their hands roam, map the body before them like it’s all they have to prove this is real. Relief comes when there are no new scars, no new marks or reasons to worry as they were separated. They part, panting.

“If you go, Deasun, so do I. You foolish beast! How dare you ever think I could ask such a thing, do such a thing…there is nothing for me without you, not anymore…I just want this, you,”

Deasun chokes up, hand cupping Cathaldus’ face as his weight settles on his hips. They stare, another kiss and all at once Deasun is surrounded by feathers, warmth and buried in the smell of the Ceo, his beautiful blue bird grinding into him before shifting and Deasun throws his head back in pleasure.

“In our tradition,” Cathaldus says, voice rising, the glow of him too bright to see him clearly, “We raise one another up, stake a claim on the essence of our souls and save one another from our shame, damned if we do not pair off…”

Deasun squints trying to see his lover’s face, the Ceo’s hands hot against his skin before shifting to cover his arms, pinning him down with a strength like he had never experienced before.

“You, Deasun, Prince of Holle are raised from your perdition and hereby...mine!” Deasun doesn’t have time to think about it when the heat of Cathaldus’ magic engulfs him.

Deasun’s roar had never been louder than it was right then, and despite the pain his teeth come down into Cathaldus’ neck harshly, fangs fully borne and desperate. Cathaldus screams, voice breaking the still around them, as Deasun’s essence burns through his veins. Both erupt in a display of power they have no control over and Imp shields herself when their wings raise, the immensity of them growing, warring for the space around them.

Icicles fall away, cracking and shattering against the cavern floor. Deasun rolls them over, still drinking the liquid that brings life to his veins, growling possessively, sending sparks throughout him as Cathaldus claims him, the Ceo chanting broken phrases of his native language between his gasps, his hand never loosening its grip as Deasun’s skin feels like it’s searing away. Their rutting, wings clashing, sliding together and rubbing, their love making becoming aggressive, as Deasun pulls away to mutter words Cathaldus doesn't know.

“You are mine, Cathaldus, and till my last breath you always will be.” It’s the last thing he hears, his voice drowned in pleasure when Deasun’s tail ropes him, holds him and Deasun plunges into his heat, both of them trembling when the other side of Cathaldus’ neck turns purple, and the world goes black as Deasun’s voice echoes in his head and his skin burns like hell fire.

The cave quakes around them then, the roar of snow and falling boulders giving way to the earth below. The moon grows purple, eclipsing as the earth trembles in the wake of their commitment. Thunder rumbles in the distance, lightning flashing when from below them miles away the fire of the earth erupts into the night sky. Deasun roars, his lover limp in his arms as he fills him, claims him.

Ceo and Holle look on in wonder, in amazement and no one dares breathe at a sight neither can explain. For the first time, the world dare not breathe out of fear.

Silence follows the chaos, slow gasping breaths evening out as the moon is a new shade of blue. Above the world they now know something new, something forbidden but beautiful has occurred. Deasun tastes of iron, of blood but it’s good as their lips meet, Deasun nuzzling him awake, hands stroking at him, rousing him. Deasun softens between his legs, the pain sharp but pleasurable. Deasun kisses at his neck when Cathaldus nuzzles at the mark of his hand, visible for the world to see. He hopes the burns of Deasun’s tail around his wrists never fade.

With hands entwined against the skin rugs, Deasun presses loose kisses into Cathaldus’ jaw as they curl together, the curves of him slotting against the Ceo in a perfect fitting, before leaving his lips against the scars by his temple. The Ceo nuzzles closer, the cave warm despite the cold as he wraps Deasun in his wings, the demons wings coming down to cover him as well. It isn’t long before Deasun wants to bury himself in Cathaldus’ heat again, both of them muttering their affections when Cathaldus begs.

Lost inside a world no one but themselves will ever understand, even if in conflict, they’re never leaving one another again. Imp curls near their feet, her body shielding them from the mouth of the cave.

Everything is perfect, and Deasun feels as though he is reborn when Cathaldus screams his name and Deasun licks away the seed Cathaldus spills between their stomachs before once again leaving kisses against the lips he’ll never tire of. Deasun purrs into the crook where he’s marked his lover. Cathaldus’ hand shadows his claim.

Come what may.//&//

“This is quite a reunion and admission of undying love. The energy between them, the desire and power is exquisitely delicious.” Bela declares with a devious grin. Castiel finds himself laughing and enjoying her depiction of the scenes.

“Thank you” He says humbly.

“Now with our interview coming to an end, i'd like to leave our viewers with this last hot short scene. With your husband as the inspiration for Deasun’s character and your own admittance of these more intimate scenes as ‘personal experiences’, I’m sure you will leave here with many envious of your marital bliss” She teased enjoyed the cherry red blush on the authors cheeks as Castiel tried to stay composed.

//&// As dusk creeps along the edge of the cliffs, Deasun slips away with a low growl as Cathaldus eyes his scales protector. Once again Imp stays.

The air is changing now, hints of a chill and the smell of cold underlay the smell of dying leaves and withering plant life. Soon the green here will fade and everything Cathaldus finds so beautiful will freeze as it dies off. Deasun sniffs the air thickly. The forest life grows quieter here now, and soon Deasun figures he will have to move his new life with the migrations to warmer grounds or there may not be enough to eat, be enough to drink. The Esu tightens his cloak around himself, the smell of his lover’s feathers stirring him as he attempts to stay warm. He growls lowly, the smell of the cloak distracting him. Cathaldus drove him crazy even when other things took importance, he was sure one day that would be his downfall, his lust…his feelings. His stomach growls, once again drowning his growing want.

Several moments pass before the bushes rustle, and Deasun spots his prey. The creature moves with confidence, sniffing before venturing out with its long antlers forwards. Truly a leader, but it won’t be enough for Deasun to spare him. The male stag hardly breathes in the evening air, he’s quite large and for a moment even Deasun admits he’s beautiful, right before attacking.

It takes all of a few seconds, over immediately, the stag never even tasting the meadows still lush grasses before he falls into the earth and stills. The dark Prince smothers his kill, groaning when his teeth pierce flesh, the crimson juices that renew him flooding his mouth as he swallows greedily. When its beating heart finally stills for good, Deasun slows his urgency for its substance.

The blood warms Deasun as he drinks his fill, his head thrown back to the sky in a snarl when he releases its throat with pure feral instincts rushing through him, eyes redder than hell fire. Despite everything an Esu is, he still needs blood, he is still one with the Dragon internally and despite Cathaldus’ nature changing him every moment they grow closer than the last--that would be something he could never escape. Bloodlust would always be a hunger he could never erase.

Renewed, even if annoyed, his needs from before are more prominent than ever. Deasun hoists his kill onto his shoulder as the warmth in its body begins to fade. He spreads his wings wide, casting shadows before he returns to the cliff face where his lover is waiting in hiding just like every evening since the moment they began running.

He lands silently, the smell of roasting meat and thick husky scent of the Ceo crouched by the flames hitting him like a punch to the gut. Deasun licks his lips as his mouth waters, his stomach feeling like it drops, pooling warmth in his lower extremities. He can almost taste Cathaldus in the air. How ever so tempting, he thinks, eyes roaming over Cathaldus’ body without shame.

Taste is important to an Esu, and nothing was ever as good as the taste of Cathaldus. However, it mattered in other ways, the iron in the blood they drank, the flesh of the meat and inside of marrow when it was craved. The fresher the kill of course, the better the fill--the stronger the rush and the energy in which one felt to their essence.

Herbs and spices, dried or cooked meats aren't in Esu traditions, but even Deasun had to admit, something about the way Cathaldus prepared their food was almost sinful as he toyed with the plants and vegetation along their travels. The fallen Prince had said he learned it before they met but never really practiced the techniques and recipes until now.

Ceo traditions were engraved inside them to remember that every breath, every life and every death was sacred. It was in everything they did, good or evil. On some level they were taught to be thankful in their outcomes and for their moments, even when they weren’t ideal because everything was a blessing. It carried into their food and their prep of such a thing, to their robes and armors, to everything including themselves.

Here the plants, oils, some spells and even the fire allowed Cathaldus to experiment with his newly found skills and forging, constantly learning about tastes and smells, about the added value plants and seeds, nuts and berries etc that allowed them to feel full and keep their stamina up.

Not relying on their essence and draining his gift of the Father Moon allowed Cathaldus to be a better warrior and in their more quiet moments, a better lover.

"Smells good.”

Cathaldus smiles at the sound of Deasun’s voice, its octave lower than usual, full of gruff and smoke. The cave echoes with the clanging of Deasun’s armor as it lands against the glistening rocks and dust. From the corner of his eye Cathaldus spies his glistening skin, admires the scars that tell his story and the deep bruises that keep his claim from their previous indulgences.

“Don’t even think about snatching any until it’s done,” he replies softly, voice swallowed by the cackling timber.

“I wasn’t talking about the meat,” Deasun growls, nose suddenly buried into the bit of leftover sweat clinging to Cathaldus’ neck. Cathaldus shivers, breath hitching. He’s been letting his guard down if the Prince can sneak up on him like that, never hearing him move a muscle.

“I’m cooking,” Cathaldus growls, mildly worried about their dinner when Deasun’s claws raise. In one snap of his fingers the flames dull, reduced to glowing coals that cast rolling orange shadows around them. Cathaldus tries to protest but the gentle scrape of Deasun’s fingers along his neck as his snow white hair is gingerly draped around one shoulder makes him pause.

“I have all I want to eat right here…” Deasun purrs, low and loving when he nuzzles his fangs teasingly into the crook of the Ceo’s collarbone. He smells earthy, like the best of the heavy rains and the the lands in which they’re roaming. Cathaldus swallows when Deasun laps gently at his bronzed skin, salty but much like the softness of flowers and the warmth of sunshine.

Gingerly, the calloused hands of the fallen warrior, developed from the grasp on his bow, the grip of his sword trail to slide up to touch at the bottom of Deasun’s abdomen, harshly grasping the fabric that now shields his hardening length from view.

“Some of us need more than blood and the slick feel of flesh to flesh to live upon you know...” his voice drops, low enough to make Deasun vibrate as the orbs that gaze upon him, the Ceo’s head tilted back as they once again hold every shade of ocean, sky and stone. Deasun cups his mate’s cheek, his tail lashing behind him dangerously.

“The look in your eyes, Prince Cathaldus, says otherwise.”

Cathaldus closes his eyes as the Demon lifts his head forwards, pressing hot kisses against his neck. He gasps, the heat of his lover’s mouth, the tender graze of his fangs making him shiver. Pressed between them, Cathaldus’ wings tremble as Deasun lays open the robes that hide his lover from view. They fall, pooling around him, leaving him exposed in more than one way. Cathaldus leans into his lover, the demon's claws trailing his hips, the Ceo’s arm held high above him as he winds his fingers into Deasun’s sandy colored locks.

“Beautiful creature,” Deasun growls, and Cathaldus whines, pushing into him desperately already as the heat pools in his abdomen, “so strong and yet such putty in the hands of your enemy, your ally and your captor...”

“Dea-Deasun, please.”

Deasun chuckles, kissing, sucking and teasing at his shoulder, the curve of it to his bicep before moving back up to his neck where he flushes like wild flowers. His free hand finds the soft, almost downy like feathers on the Heaven dwellers back, his erection rubbing needily, pressing harshly between them.

Cathaldus moans, Deasun’s assault to his flesh is endless, tender and somehow sweet just as it is aggressive, torturesome. Deasun fists the larger feathers suddenly, claws sending shocks across his entire wing, his fangs abusing the vein pumping sweet crimson nectar through his beloved. He bruises the beautiful skin there, but does not taste and below him Cathaldus sobs in want.

“I love you so my precious little blue bird,” he croons, another marking--turning him wonderful colors before kissing where it was left, forcing his neck sideways to continue his assault to all the flesh he sees glistening in sweat, glowing in desperate arousal beneath him. Cathaldus is so sweet against the flesh of his lips, like honey, warm as he makes sure no inch of his flesh is spared his affections, his desire.

It’s perfect, Deasun realizes. Cathaldus’ hair curls in his free fist so perfectly, as his left hand once again digs deep into his feathers, tugging. Watching, feeling the expansion of his ribs drives him higher, each twitch and each shudder growing his own arousal. Cathaldus cries out when Deasun grinds against him, his own wings wide now and shadowing them from view. He nips at a shifting shoulder blade, nuzzling into the curve of his spine where his joints try to free his lover’s wings where they’re still pinned down.

“Such wonderful songs you sing for me when prompted.”

“Deasun,” Cathaldus begs, the space around them beginning to glow a shade of soft pale silver. He illuminates the shadows, the air sparks as the Esu feels the power around them rise. Suddenly the sound of their hearts, the sound of their blood is louder than the roaring river below them. Deasun’s entire being reacts to his lovers essence rising, and all at once his vision blurs and the Dragon inside him roars. Red eyes respond and as the sting in Cathaldus’ knees alerts him to their new position, his wings spread wide when Deasun’s skilled hands suddenly offer release between his slicked, thick thighs. Their cocks rub together, Deasun pumping them both from behind him, below him and Cathaldus trembles violently.

Deasuns kiss turn to a feral bite, and the crimson between his lips is dizzying. The entire earth is silent, and not even Mother Sun nor Father Moon are felt when Cathaldus releases and his power shakes their dwelling. Deasun’s roar is deafening when he drowns out Cathaldus’ scream.

Cathaldus doesn’t even mind he’s missing a few feathers when he opens his eyes to a roaring fire, his skewered kill laying beside him as Deasun strokes his hair gently. They’re tangled, skin on skin as he buries his face in Deasun’s hip and thigh. He sucks Deasun’s fingers clean when he holds out a piece of boar. The horned hog is wonderful as his wing strokes against Deasun’s.

“You're so lucky that didn’t burn,” he whispers and Deasun flashes him a fangy childish smile.

“Say what you will, blue bird. You’ll come for me every time because you love it just as much as I.” Cathaldus smiles, kissing at the pale ivory skin of his beloved dark mate.

He isn’t wrong. Cathaldus smiles.

“I love you, Deasun.”

The Esu smiles, stroking the long feathers softly. His kiss against Cathaldus’ out stretched palm when he lifts it says all he needs to know.//&//

Chapter Text

There was nothing worse then being awoken to an emergency. Castiel wasn’t sure yet what was going on, only that Dean’s cell phone as well as the house phone had been ringing nonstop since seven a.m. He sat numbly on the bed, his hair a mess. He had a sinking feeling whatever was going on wasn’t good. Dean had been back and forth on the phones. He was barking answers and down right growling in irritation like some kind of animal until he hung up the phone and sighed dejectedly.

Castiel hadn’t seen Dean this upset in a long time. A sliver of fear circled Castiel’s heart as Dean repeatedly murmured ‘fuck’ under his breath. Dean rubbed his right hand over his face as he leaned back against the side of the bed. He hated having this fear of his husband because of a past mistake. Dean wouldn’t hurt him willingly ever and he knew that. Having Dean yelling into the phone, looking agitated, and down right pissed off brought back the fear. He wished he could just make it go away.

“Dean?” Castiel asked carefully, not making any movements like his lover was a spooked animal.

Dean couldn’t believe this was happening. Not even twenty four hours after his husband’s interview and everything was going to shit. First Charlie repeatedly called and texted his cell until he answered. Dean had been wrapped around Castiel like an octopus after they had made love for hours. He had been warm and blissfully asleep surrounded in his and Castiel’s body heat. The smell of sex hovering in the air. When Dean finally answered, he hadn’t been able to make out any of Charlie’s rushed words like she was having a panic attack. Just as his hazy brain had made out the words ‘problem’ and ‘identity’. His other line was beeping and flashing showing Jody Mills was calling followed by his house line shrieking to life. The caller ID showing L. Northstar was calling as well as the second line had A.Ketch calling at the same time. It was like the bureau had exploded and were all trying to reach him.

Dean ended up with four different people yelling in his ear, however, the urgency alone had sent a chill down his spine.

‘Your identity is in danger, it's all over the media since your husband’s interview’

Fuck. How the fuck had this happened? There was no way Castiel had been so careless as to say his name. Even then, his name wasn’t enough to really cause a problem. But what had sounded off the danger bells was the fact that his fucking picture was flashing across the media as Dean Winchester, fantasy author Castiel Winchester’s husband. The only thing not made public -at least as of yet- was that he was FBI.

Dean leaned against the bed. The sheer rage and worry coursing through him was making him tremble ever so slightly. The agent closed his eyes and took in a deep breath, putting to use all those classes on managing his anger. He desperately needed to calm the fuck down. Lives, especially Castiel’s were at stake.

Dean barely registered Castiel calling his name. “We have a problem” He murmured as calmly as he could manage. The ferocity of the issue was making it difficult for him not to yell and panic.

When Castiel remained quiet, Dean stood from the bed and turned to look at him. His lover looked worried and wary.

The agent took a deep breath, needed to just calm the fuck down because being livid and yelling wouldn’t solve anything. He wanted to laugh even. When he was in his ‘home’ headspace, it was like his emotions were rampant and brash. While when he was in his ‘working’ headspace’, he was calm cool and collected. What the fuck was wrong with him? The realization of how out of sorts he really was just confirmed how much he needed Mills and Northstar to accept his request for a transfer.

“Cas, your interview you had, you told me last night it went well right?” He asked already knowing the answer. Castiel had come home, floating on air. All the anxiety and nervousness had been replaced with giddy glee. Castiel had radiated happiness. The writer had gone on excitedly about the interview and how tense and worried he had been about it. Bela Talbot had been amazing. He babbled about feeling himself blush when she had brought up sensual pages of his novels. Dean had been so elated to see him so happy and proud of his work. It hadn’t taken long for him to grab his smaller lover and show him just how much so on their bed, repeatedly.

“Yes, I told you when I got home” Castiel’s voice quieted down as Dean nodded obviously already knowing the answer.

“Did you say anything about me?” The agent questioned carefully, watching as his husband’s mouth quirked in a small smirk and a rosy blush graced his cheeks. Dean couldn’t help but love the sight of him bashful yet he had to focus.

“I just said I was married to a good man” Castiel announced as his bare left shoulder shrugged and his sky blue eyes watched Dean beneath his dark lashes. “Dean...why are you upset? Whats going on?” The writer asked after several moments passed with nothing but tension rolling of the federal agent.

“From what I’ve been told, after your interview, my name and picture was given out to the media” Dean informed him as he jerked his jeans on. His heart was racing and he couldn’t stop the gripping fear of something happening to Castiel. Dean yanked his t-shirt on and headed out the bedroom. He could hear Castiel shuffling off the bed and hurry to follow him downstairs.

“I don’t understand. What do you mean your name and picture was released?” Castiel was practically on his heels. The writer could feel the dread setting in as panic started to make its way to his throat.

Two things happened as they reached the kitchen. Dean’s cell beeped twice and someone was knocking energetically for eight am. Castiel couldn’t find it in him to move towards the door. He needed to understand what the hell Dean meant. He watched as Dean looked at his phone. A text from what he could tell and Dean’s jaw clenched. He licked his lips in aggravation before sliding his hand over his face, clearly angry.

“D-” The agent didn’t even let him finish as he shoved his cell phone at him before leaving the kitchen to answer the front door. Castiel barely caught the phone in time and he finally looked at it. His sky blue eyes burned as the threat of tears rushed to his face. His left hand came to cover his mouth as he stared in shocked disbelief at the screenshot that was sent to his Dean’s phone.

Because of Dean’s job as a federal agent, neither of them had anything to do with social media, no Facebook, Twitter, or Instagram. Cas wasn’t sure how it all worked anyway. Dean had to be careful because of his undercover jobs. Castiel understood that. Whatever pictures they would take of themselves or each other was always just for them. Castiel had albums of them, and he loved that. He would fill them with the pictures Dean love to take with his fancy camera when he was on recession from work. But they always took selfies, mainly on Castiel’s cell phone so he would have pictures of Dean while he was gone for weeks.

That’s why as Dean had said the words, a picture released of him, Castiel couldn’t understand until now. Stones pooled at the bottom of his stomach. He couldn’t comprehend how this could have happened The screen shot was of some kind of online magazine where the caption read ‘Famous reclusive author debut on Worth a Read, Castiel Winchester and his husband Dean Winchester’ over the very intimate picture of them.

It had been taken the last time Dean had been home from a case. Castiel had been asleep, sprawled out over Dean’s bare chest, his head pillowed comfortably. His husband had been awake and had taken Castiel’s cell phone to snap the incredibly intimate and loving picture. Dean was smiling happily, hair a mess, and freckles dark in the sunlit room. He had his left arm under Castiel, held him tightly against him as he took the picture from above.

It had been a sweet surprise for Castiel when he later awoke to find it in his phone. Now, this private and blissful moment had been destroyed. Someone had displayed it for all to see and the only place it ever was….Castiel looked up as he heard angry tones in the living room.

The distraught writer started towards the escalating biting and heated tones as he clearly now understood why Dean was so upset… and had had asked him specifically if he had said anything. The only place that picture existed was on his cell phone.



“Why are you even here?” Dean demanded, tone annoyed.

“To celebrate! If you would bother to be even remotely interested in your husband’s career, you would know” Gabriel countered.

“You little asshole” Dean growled out.

“Cassie!” Gabriel sidestepped the agent and headed straight to his baby brother as Castiel just walked into the living room looking anything but happy. Gabriel made himself bite his tongue and decided to continue with the ‘good news’. “The ratings for the show were an all time high! The public shy and hermite-like author made a grand entrance into the limelight! Ash said the website exploded with comments and emails, demanding interviews and info on you! The books sales have tripled and after the book signing today at Book Culture, you will be even bigger!”

Castiel couldn’t fully focus on his brother’s bubbly words when he felt anything but elated. He wanted to be excited about the interview and the sales. Yet, with Dean frustrated and distant because of the picture and his name being giving out, he could barely breathe. Dean suspected him of giving out the picture. How could he not when the damn picture way only on his cell phone!

“Dean-” He started towards his husband and was met with wild and agitated fern green gaze.

“What book signing?” Dean demanding looking between the brothers.

When it became clear his brother wasn’t going to answer and only seemed able to look at the agent with a pleading blue gaze, Gabriel grinded his teeth and looked up at Dean. “Yes, a book signing. You know, that's when authors are out in the real world meeting fans and promoting their latest book to hit the shelf”

“No, that’s not happening” Dean moved towards Castiel and grasped him by the shoulders firmly, ignoring Gabriel as the shorter man started to argue. “Cas you can’t, it's too dangerous. Please just stay home and don’t go outside until I figure out how to fix this cluster fuck” Castiel had no time to respond, no time to tell Dean he didn’t do this. He watched helpless as Dean grabbed his keys and was bluntly ignoring Gabriel who was practically screaming in his face.

“The fuck you mean it's not happening! Who the fuck do you think you are? This is CASTIEL’S career! You don't care anything about him! Are you gonna punch him if he doesn’t do what you say? Huh? Big bag federal agent dishing out his own justice at home!” Gabriel barked.

“GABRIEL!” Castiel yelled, gaining both snarling men’s attention. The writer was breathing hard and he couldn’t have this right now. Dean had only been home days and Gabriel had to push him and now this dilemma with Dean’s identity. Castiel could only guess but this was going to fuck up Dean’s case he had been working on, if not others and their own safety…

“Fuck off Gabe. This is for Cas’s safety. You know nothing” Dean growled out. His moss green eyes intense and calculating. This fierce cogency of dominance he radiated made Castiel shiver. It turned him on and scared him all at once. It was the most confusing assault of his body and emotions. He suddenly felt numb and completely idiotic when his lover’s green gaze zeroed in on him and was anything but filled with worry. He didn’t understand how Dean was able to go from 60 to 0 in milliseconds, but it gave him his vision for Deasun. “I’ll be back as soon as I can. I have to go to the bureau to figure this out. Please, stay here. I meant it” Castiel felt himself nod in a daze as Dean’s lips kissed his forehead while he gently took back his cell phone from his grasp and then he was gone.

“Its my fault” Castiel murmured.

“What!?” Gabriel yelled.

“I shouldn’t have done the interview. I shouldn’t have listened to you. I don’t even know how but now there’s a picture of us in the media! His name is posted with it Gabriel” Castiel cried.

“‘So what?! He’s ashamed of you now? Can’t let anyone know he has this docile little wifey at home that’s a man?” Gabriel challenged.

“Stop it! That’s not what this is and you know it! Dean’s job is dangerous. He doesn’t want anything happening to me, to us! Fuck…. Dean’s case, he was gone for nine months. I have no idea what this means. What if we have to go under protection because of this?” Castiel barked.

“What the fuck are you talking about? Witness protection? You haven’t seen anything!” Gabriel growled.

“He goes undercover Gabriel. What the fuck do you think that entails!? Dean’s not giving out parking tickets like you like to joke! He saves people!” Castiel was beyond irritated with his brother.

Gabriel could only look at his baby brother with wide shocked honey eyes. Castiel was livid and scared, but not of Dean, but for him.

“How can you always defend him?” The older brother asked in a tired and awed tone.

“Because I know Dean. The only thing you see about him is his one mistake” Castiel informed him.

“He hit you!” Gabriel reminded him.

“It was an accident! Its the only thing about Dean you choose to fucking see! You don’t even try to see how much he makes me happy. How much he loves me and I him” Castiel was in tears and so fucking tired of having to play this mediator between his husband and his brother. “Dean is not perfect, but he tries. If you would stop focusing on the worse time in our marriage which was three years ago Gabriel, you would know how much Dean tries and how happy I am.”

Gabriel could only stand there as he watched his baby brother torn and hurting and this time it was his fault.

“Dean goes to AA meetings because he still tries to stop drinking even though I know he slips up because of what he deals with on the job. He thinks I don’t know, but I do, and I see him going back to the meetings every time. Did you even know Dean went through anger management after I took him back?” Gabriel could only shake his head as Castiel continued. “Do you know Dean is what made me write The Thursday Chronicles? He doesn’t know, but he gave me the ideas, gave me a counter character to my lonely hero.” Castiel took a deep breath and wiped the tears from his face. “Dean hasn’t read the books and I don’t want him to”

“What?” Gabriel was confused by that and the sudden blush that grace the writer’s face only added to his puzzlement.

Castiel slowly eased himself onto the sofa, suddenly looking and feeling completely exhausted. “The books, the series, they are for Dean, about him, about us.” He admitted and looked up at Gabriel with the look of someone that was completely and ever so bashfully in love.

Gabriel felt as if he had been punched in the gut.

“Dean isn’t a monster Gabriel. He doesn’t leave me at home to have a double life or cheat or anything else you think. Yes, he has his faults. Yes, I hate that his job takes him away from me.” Castiel huffed a tired laugh. “I can’t stand it sometimes. But I knew that going in. Dean tells me what he can and comes back home safely to me every time. That’s all I can ask for. Dean cares about people, he feels responsible for the ones that can’t fight for themselves, so he does what he can to protect them, save them. He can’t save everyone but he tries” Castiel smiled sadly, remembering all those years ago when a case that had involved children had fallen through and innocents was lost. Dean had taken it at heart, like it had been his fault. Of course Castiel knew nothing of the details. All Dean had been able to tell him was just that, the case was compromised and children paid for it. Castiel hadn’t ask anymore, knowing Dean wouldn’t be able to tell him anything further anyway.

“As important as Dean’s job supposedly is, what about you? How important are you to him?” Gabriel asked carefully. He had never liked Dean, for many reasons. However hearing Castiel talk about his feeling filled with adoration and warmth was a bit overwhelming.

Castiel looked up at him, his crystal blue eyes shining and bright like stars lived in them. His smile was genuine and happy. “Dean makes sure I’m safe, loved and happy. He makes me feel like I can do anything and conquer worlds. He puts this, unwavering belief in me. It's not so much words, Dean has a hard time with those” Castiel laughed, thinking of how hard a time Dean had at verbally telling him he loved him at first. He would stumble over his words and look uncharacteristically bashful and Castiel loved every second of it. Dean being vulnerable for him, it was a lot for Dean and meant the world to Cas. “Dean shows me with his actions” The writer lifted his hand silencing any rebuttal Gabriel was about to say to that, making his older brother roll his eyes but he stayed quiet just the same. “Dean is… intense and passionate-”

“I don’t wanna hear about you too doing the horizontal” Gabriel interjected quickly ready to cover his ears like child pouting.

Castiel snorted. “That’s not what i’m talking about. It's just how he is, this… energy Dean gives off around me. Its consuming and it feels like a safety blanket. I don’t know how to explain it. It is his every smile, every touch, hug, kiss. Just the way he looks at me it's like…”

“Like you’re his everything” Gabriel added glumly. Despite the way he felt about the federal agent and how much he hated thinking anything even remotely good about Dean Winchester, he couldn’t deny how the man looked at his baby brother. It was almost a fierce adoration, like… worship. It made Gabriel feel damn uncomfortable admitting that to himself.

“Yes. Dean tries to change for me and its… its a huge thing for someone to willingly work on the worse parts of themselves for you. When he surprised me with his six month sober chip after we got back together, after the incident, Dean was proving to me he didn’t want to repeat that mistake. Dean knew building trust again would take time but he went to AA without a word from me. He did so secretly, because he needed to prove to himself, as much as me, that he wanted us to work. That he was dedicated to me as much as I am to him. Dean also surprised me with a certificate for completing Anger Management classes.” Castiel reached over and took Gabriel’s hand in his.

“Gabriel, I know you will never like Dean and that's fine. But I’m asking you to respect my love for him. Respect his love for me. Dean made his own choices to make sure he rectified and prevent his dark shortcomings from happening again. Please…” Castiel pleaded.

Gabriel nodded his understanding as he bit his lip. “Cassie, can you honestly tell me you’re no longer scared of him or that another ‘incident’ wouldn’t happen?” The older brother took no pleasure when his baby brother flinched at the question. It was subtle but there nonetheless.

Castiel liked his dry lips. “No, but I believe in him. In us” He hated admitting this to Gabriel, it was giving him a winning angle. However Cas saw no point in lying. “He’s upset with me right now and trying not to be. I don’t know how but this situation we are in now is my fault”

Gabriel’s eyes went wide. “What the hell do you mean it's your fault!?”

“Somehow, a picture from my phone is the one that’s all over the media with Dean’s name and mine. I just don’t understand. I don’t show or share any of the pictures on my phone. They are only for me… I don’t want Dean upset with me, but I caused this somehow. I don’t know how to fix it” Tears pulled in Castiel’s sky blue eyes as he kept his gaze on his phone in his hand. Maybe he had been hacked? But he wasn’t on any social media sites, he barely even used the internet besides for research and that was all on his laptop, not his phone. “I shouldn’t have done that interview…”

“Is that what he said?” Gabriel growled.

“What? No, Dean was really happy for me. He thought me doing this was a good ideas as long as it was for me and that I was comfortable with being a big famous star” Castiel mused smiling at the end. Thinking about how Dean had teased him and wiggled his eyebrows at him goofily. “I just… this is a trust issue and now it looks like I somehow messed up and I just don’t know what happened.” Castiel’s stomach started to hurt again from all the anxiety that suddenly rushed back. Just days ago he had broken down to his husband, telling Dean how he hated his job. Now Dean’s job, Dean’s identity was compromised. Castiel was somehow responsible, at least he knew that's how it looked. He understood Dean’s confusion but had no clue how he would prove otherwise.

Gabriel’s palms started to sweat and guilt was eating at him as he watched Castiel look down hopelessly at his phone. As if the secret of how the picture ever left his phone would suddenly be revealed. “Cassie, I should tell you something”




When Dean arrived at the bureau, he was immediately ushered into Technology Branch. Charlie’s hands were already flying over the keyboards and one of her assistants, Kevin Tran if Dean remembered correctly was going over some kind of cryptic mess that was displayed on Charlie’s large flat screens.

Jody and Luc looked anything but pleased yet neither had opt for ripping off his head. “Charlie was able to catch it early enough to do, well whatever it is she’s doing” Jody grumbled out. “I don’t understand how this happened Dean. This isn’t some candid picture of you in a grocery store or at a restaurant with your husband. This is a pic of you two in bed!” Jody barked in a hushed tone even though Charlie’s office door was closed.

Before Dean could even open his mouth Charlie interrupted. “Ok! So we have a few ‘Dean Winchester’ planted out. A few dozen fake yet very creditable profiles of young men in various stages in their lives, all over the united states named Dean Winchester!”

“What?” Dean voiced carefully as Jody glared daggers at him.

“We have to ask Dean, if this has anything to do with your ‘proposal’ recently? I mean this does push-” Luc started.

“No! You know I would never put Cas or the case of nine fucking months in jeopardy like this!” Dean was red in the face at the sudden sheer anger that hit him. “How can you even-”

“I had to ask. But you’re right, you’d never willingly fuck us over, yourself or the hubby” Luc injected.

Dean took a breath threw his nose, he wanted to punch something. Dean made himself breathe and looked up at what Charlie and Kevin were doing. The screens would flash fake driver’s licenses with Dean’s name, made up faces a bit close to his own and stats on their side.

Dean Winchester of Long Island NY, 26 yr old baker at Yummy in Your Tummy Cafe.
Dean Winchester of Sacramento CA, 55yr old Sales Rep at Sandover Corp.
Dean Winchester of Cook IL, 43yr old Fine Arts professor at Northeastern Illinois University.
Dean Winchester of Sioux Falls SD 36 yr old Senior Mechanic at Singer’s Auto Shop.
Dean Winchester of Lebanon KS, 29yr old Owner of Hunting Bunker.
Dean Winchester of Dallas TX, 39yr old Physical Therapist at Abrams Clinic.
Dean Winchester of Pontiac IL, 63yr old Retired EMT.

Dean eyes hurt as his name with descriptions of made up men flashed quickly across the screen. He had lost count of how many profiles were flying from screen to screen. Photos although only a few, credentials, forged backgrounds to the nines, from kindergarten to retired ones. Some profiles had some similarities while others were completely different. From eye color, height, weight, families, driving record, police records if any and so on. Dean couldn’t even beginning to imagine how long Charlie and Kevin had been working at this. The amount of details and pristine paper trail demanded serious time and careful maneuvering. The companies were real, the registrations were real all the way down to the birth records. It made Dean’s brain hurt. Dean felt guilty for having to put them through this instead of focusing on real cases that needed their attention much more.

“I know what you’re think and stop. This is just as important if not more” Dean swirled around finding Sam standing behind him in a light grey polished suit like the powerful Federal Prosecutor he was.

“Sam!” Dean hugged him happily and Sam returned the hug eagerly. Dean hadn’t seen his baby brother yet since he had been back only days ago.

“Prosecutor Winchester, always a pleasure” Luc greeted formally, they rarely ever saw eye to eye.

“You were able to get away from your overbearing secretary?” Jody teased, gaining an exasperated sigh from the tall attorney.

Sam’s secretary, Becky Rosen was well known, but not for flattering reasons. She was very good at her job but tended to overstep boundaries involving Sam. Becky had tried seducing him for the first two years he took on the Federal position. No matter how Sam had turned her down, Becky had seemed relentless in her pursuit of him. Becky had never actually done anything to make Sam fire her or report any form of sexual harassment, she just tended to stare at him much longer than needed. She tried to deter any competition for Sam’s affections. Becky kept it to glares and tried to dramatically exaggerate on her relationship with Sam when provoked. Sam actually felt sorry for her, especially when he met his now wife of six years Eileen Leahy.

Eileen had blown Sam away when they had met during a difficult case with deaf witnesses. Sam had heard of her. Eileen was well known in the Legal world. She was on the FBI’s retainer as a very well sought after hearing impaired translator and specialized in cases with minors.

After that one case together, they never stopped seeing each other and married two years later. Becky hadn’t taken the news very well and tried to act as Sam’s wife in the office. Eileen thought it was hilarious and teased Sam mercilessly.

“Yeah, I had to sneak out the office while Becky went to grab me a coffee. Charlie text me about our situation” Sam voiced and turned back to the extremely serious issue at hand.

Dean nodded. He was pissed yet worried something would happen to Cas. He was worried about the case and hoped this wouldn’t even get on the radar of the bastards Dean tended to go after.

“A big problem here is that is your cover is actually blown, it's not just the present case we have to worry about” Sam started and as Dean looked at Jody and Luc. He could see they knew exactly where Sam was going with this. “If others ‘Abel O’Connor’ has dealt with and they get suspicious about this Dean Winchester that looks like a doppelganger, you have an unlimited amount of criminals on your head and Castiel’s”

Dean turned pale and had to lean back against the desk. For a long moment the only noises in the room was nothing but the constant click and clacks on the keyboards singing under Charlie and Kevin’s nibble fingers.

“I have an idea though. Charlie I’ll need your help on this” Sam stated and Charlie nodded, letting him know she heard him as she continued on her task. Dean watched Sam look at Jody who nodded for him to go on with whatever they seemed to have planned. Dean arched a brow expectantly at Sam who’s lip quirked in a half smirk. “Jody called me after your meeting. You want to leave undercover” That made Charlie stop typing and turned around in her chair with her eyes wide and staring at Dean like she didn’t recognize him. Charlie actually being speechless said quite a bit on how much this shocked her. “And I get it. I was actually wondering when you were going to figure out it was time” Sam was purposely being vague in leaving Castiel out of it. No one needed to know Dean’s true reasons. Sam knew him well enough to know it had everything to do with Castiel and Sam was very much on board with Dean asking for a safer job position and security.

“Here’s what Jody and I discussed and I really think this is our only option to have this end smoothly” Sam went on.

Charlie took a large sip of her diet coke. “Ok, so what do you need me to do Sam?” Dean knew later he would have to deal with her arsenal of questions.

“First, I need you to add to Abel O’Connor’s list of aliases, Dean Winchester. If there’s a record of him/you using that name in order to pull of other crimes, were arrested under that name which later revealed you to be Abel O’Conner, it removes the possibility of anyone thinking you are the same Dean Winchester married to an author. Charlie I need you to make it obvious enough in the records that Abel used it a few times.” Sam instructed. “How are you doing of the picture that was released?”

“I was able to get as many as I could find and I installed an alert if the name ‘Dean Winchester’ on any social media pop ups. I was able to remove it from all the ones i did find but it's impossible for anything to completely disappear of the internet and you guys know that” The fire engine red head grumbled as she turned back to her monitors. “However, the picture is a bit blurry and Dean has goofy grin in it that really does not make him look like Abel” Just to make a point she brought up the picture that had caused the whole uproar and the picture of Dean as Abel O’Connor.

“True, it doesn’t look like it could be him, too dopey looking” Jody admitted.

“Haha” Dean glared.

“Alright, that's a start. For the rest, we should talk in Jody’s office” Sam advised as he started for the door.

Dean wiped his hand over his face. He would do anything to make this go away and Sam being involved worried him. It just showed Dean just how serious and dangerous this small and seemingly innocent gaf of someone posting a pic of him and Cas was. Dean couldn’t have anything happen to his husband. He wouldn’t be able to deal with that. He didn’t know how that picture ended up on the web but he had a hard time believing Castiel would have done so willingly.


Chapter Text

The guilt sat like an anvil at the pit of Castiel’s stomach. The last few hours were blurring together in a mess of anger and anxiety as he waited for Dean to come home. Even though Cas knew now what had happened, it just felt like it made everything worse. He had no idea how much trouble the leak had and would cause, all he knew was that Dean wasn’t answering his cell. It left Castiel waiting with mixed emotions.

“Cassie, I’m sorry” Gabriel grumbled next to him on the sofa.

“You know what the worse part of what you did is? That you are not sorry, not at all. You wanted something to happen-” Castiel barked as he stood up. His anger was at a boiling point. It was taking over him so suddenly he was almost dizzy with it.

“Ok yes! I wanted you to succeed on your own and for Dean to go away! If I had any idea that posting his name and a picture of you two would cause problems between the two of you, I would have done it sooner” Castiel just stared wide eyed at his brother. Gabriel huffed and then turned away as he started to pace and murmured under his breath things Castiel couldn’t hear.

“How can you say that? How can you stand there and tell me you love me and are just trying to look out for me when you willingly just admitted to putting the life of my husband -the man I love more then anything- in danger? As well as possibly my own life.” Castiel felt numb as he watched his big brother march around the living room, seething in irritation.

Gabriel had taken Castiel’s cell phone during the interview since electronics were not allowed on set. Castiel hadn’t even thought about it twice, leaving his cell and wallet with Gabriel while Bela Talbot chatted him up on live tv. Gabriel had found the picture on Castiel’s cell, text it to himself and had deleted the text sent afterwards. What he did after was quite clear and Castiel couldn’t even begin to explain how that betrayal hurt. His brother had intentionally wanted him and Dean to fight.

“You don’t know that! You don’t even know if he’s a real federal agent, he doesn’t tell you anything” Gabriel knew he was being petty and reaching as straws but he refused to let himself be wrong in this. The guilt was enough but if it made Dean Winchester get out of Castiel’s life then good.

“Are you even listening to yourself?” Castiel voiced, shaking his head at his brother’s childish rant he insisted on holding on to. Gabriel wanted his marriage to fail and end. However, Castiel knew he and Dean were much stronger than that, especially after the damn accident Gabriel loved to bring back up. His brother held on to everything negative Castiel had foolishly confided in him from the beginning of his relationship with Dean.

After meeting Dean while jogging, their relationship had rapidly escalated into hungry and needy sexually infused rendezvous. Everything had been new and exciting, constant butterflies swirled in Castiel’s stomach whenever he had ever just thought about Dean and the giddy feeling would bursts when Dean would call or text him, and was much more intense when the FBI was standing before him. Castiel had been happily swept into the current of Dean Winchester. Three months in was when Dean had admitted to him that he was the only man he had ever wanted and ever been with. At that moment this had changed for Castiel. He had taken it in stride and tried his best to keep the sudden reality check that had hit him from taking over while Dean had acted normal like he had simply commented on the weather. However for Castiel, this confession from Dean had done nothing but haunt Castiel with fears of impending heartbreak. He had been so sure whatever they had would soon end, that Dean had been just getting it out of his system. So the writer had solemnly resigned himself to attempt to keep his feelings in check. However, Dean had always been an extremely intense individual and it had become much harder for Castiel to keep his feeling at bay.

From the very beginning Gabriel had been Castiel’s sound board, the one he had turned to and spilled out his fears, hopes and confusions. Maybe it was his fault for turning to his brother about his relationship with Dean, but Castiel was socially uncomfortable and was lacking quite a bit in the friends department.

Castiel had promised himself he would tell Dean, and when he had told Gabriel, his brother’s response had been to save himself the heartache and break up with Dean before he left him. Yet Castiel hadn’t been able to. Not when Dean would be on the phone with his brother Sam and say things like “Yeah Sam, my sweetheart is feeding me” and then would wink at him. Dean had never hidden him like some dirty secret. Not from his family nor friends. All introductions had been done with warmth and adoration along with boyfriend attached to it even though they had never had the ‘boyfriend’ discussion. Castiel had been too completely wrapped up in Dean what they shared to care.

Again, Castiel had told Gabriel about every new step in their relationship. He was happy and giddy from the spell of being in love left you in. Gabriel had murmured for him to be careful and to remember he was Dean’s first man, the novelty of it all would eventually dissipate and he would be left picking up the pieces of his broken heart on the floor. At the time, Castiel had been sure that his brother had just been looking out for him, not wanting his baby brother to go through another heartbreak over an undeserving lover.

However, six months in, Dean had surprised Castiel by proposing. They had been at Dean’s loft at the time, where they tended to spent most of their time since Castiel had been living with Gabriel back then.

~^~Castiel was lounging on Dean’s queen bed. He buried his face in the soft sheets, enjoying their mixed scents that seem to permanently be embedded into them. He stretched like a cat, naked and relaxed in the still warm bed, thankful Dean hadn’t taken all of its heat when he got up.

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Dean had woken him up slowly, had been wrapped around him, cuddling and lazy. Then the soft kisses had started to be peppered on the back of his neck, his exposed shoulder and nape with his hair ever so slightly curled. Castiel had sighed into the sweet ministrations. Content in the nuzzling of his lover’s cold nose brushing against his warm neck, making him shiver which gained a smiled against his shoulder that turn into a tiny bite.

Castiel could feel Dean’s erection firmly pressed against his bare ass. The writer pushed his hips back, and smirked into the pillow as Dean moaned against his neck and grinded his hips back against him. The mutual teasing hadn’t last long. Castiel had lifted his right leg just enough for Dean to maneuver his hips and pushed his cock into the writer’s hole. Castiel had gasped, still wet and loose from the night before as Dean rocked them slowly, lips never leaving Castiel’s neck. They moaned and gasped as they moved together in a passionate and tender thrusts. They came together is a drowsy and gasp worthy climax.

Castiel loved when his lover work him this way. Dean was off today, a rare Thursday morning where the they could cuddle and spend the day wrapped around each other. The writer could hear water filling up the bathtub in the quaint bathroom. A bath sounded wonderful at the moment. He smirked as he peaked from beneath the covers towards the slightly open bathroom door. He wasn’t a morning person, yet Dean had found ways of luring him out from the covers. A bath, preferably with one his bath bombs he loved so much, was one of his favorite indulgences.

Dean’s head came into view as he peaked out the door towards the two sleepy blue eyes that were still hidden in the sheets. “You gonna come in while it's hot?”

Castiel sighed in exaggeration like it was such a hassle and let the sound of Dean’s amused laugh fill him with a undeniably happy tingle throughout his body. Quickly he slid out of bed and rushed towards the bathroom. The late October weather kept the loft chilly in the mornings and he didn’t see a point in putting on clothes just to travel a few feet. He found Dean dressed just in socks and a pair of heather grey sweats looking at himself in the mirror.

Castiel smiled, Dean had just shaved and was nice and smooth as he cuddled up to him. Dean wrapped his arms around him and kissed him, ignoring morning breath. “Bath is all ready for you”

“Thank you Dean” Castiel kissed him one more time and quickly grabbed his own tooth brush to be as minty fresh as his lover. Dean stayed next to him as he finished wiping off the shaving cream that he had missed closed to his ears. “When are you going to let me do that?” Castiel asked as he watched his lover put away the old fashion straight razor away carefully into the drawer. He couldn’t explain why but once he had seen the straight razor, he wanted to do it for Dean. Maybe it was a trust implement he was attaching to it, but he truly wanted to try it.

Dean smiled at him and kissed him softly. “Next time, since you keep insisting”

“I’ll hold you to that” Castiel made his way over to the tub, slight steam coming off the clear water. Dean watched him as he carefully stepped into the white tub and lowered himself in and moaned in serene pleasure at the heated water did wonders to his tired muscles.

“Good? Hot enough?” Dean questioned with a grin as Castiel replied by humming and sinking further into the water until his head rested comfortably against the padded headrest Dean had bought for him.

The writer could hear is lover moving around the tub and curiosity got the best of him. Usually Dean would leave him to enjoy his bath in solitude but today he was lingering. He opened one eye to peak only for Dean to be smiling at him. His lover sat on the closed toilet top and had a bath bomb in his hand. “You forgot this”

Castiel sat up to reach for the ball. It wasn’t one of his usual ones he tended to purchase from the place on the north side of downtown in the little shop that looked like nothing. It was a bit smaller and lumpy. He arched a brow and looked up at Dean who was watching him with a hopeful expression. Dean seemed to have a hard time looking at him in the eye. He actual seemed...nervous? Castiel couldn’t reason why his lover was acting a bit out of character.

He tentatively left the unusual bath bomb into the water and watched in an amused daze as the swirls of blues and blacks fizzed out, coloring the rest of the clear water in its hues. The scent of jasmine and soothing lavender caressed Castiel’s senses as he sighed contently. The ball was down to half its size, however there seem to be something keeping it from completely dissolving.

The writer went to pass his hand through it to help it dissipate when he palm hit something unexpectedly. He briefly wondered if it was one of those bombs with a cheap ring inside of it. Castiel lifted the object and numbly realized it was a small oval shaped velvet box, which was now soaked. He arched a brow at Dean who was rubbing the back of his neck nervously as he kept looking between Castiel’s face and the box.

“I um, the reason why it’s lumpy… it was hard to make a perfect circle because of the shape of the box.” Dean admitted sheepishly and even gave Castiel a rushed, nervous laugh.

Castiel was still eyeing him when the writer realized that Dean had apparently made that bath bomb for him and this… He looked at the ring box in his hand. The minutes seemed to tick by suddenly ever so loudly as Castiel slowly lifted his other hand to open the box. He gasped at what he found. This was most definitely NOT a cheap .25 cent ring.

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Words refused to leave Castiel’s mouth. He couldn’t stop staring at the stunning platinum ring that held Sapphire diamonds in an elaborate line.

“I know we haven’t been together long, but I’m, I mean, I um” Dean was stumbling over his words as he wiped his hands on his sweatpants nervously. Castiel couldn’t stop looking at him. He couldn’t believe it, he had been so sure Dean was going to just walk away. “I love you” Dean voiced in a rushed puff of breath and smiled once he had been able to finally release the words.

“Dean…” Castiel couldn’t speak, tears decided to blur his vision as the agent came closer towards the tub and took his hand.

“Will you marry me?” ~^~


It had been one of the best days of Castiel’s life. Dean proving him completely wrong, unknowingly so and had shocked Castiel in the best of ways. Castiel had never felt so giddy until their actual wedding day which hadn’t been long after. Within days, they had planned their wedding and then made the decision to buy a house to start their new life as husbands when they came back to New York.They had decided to elope of sorts.

As far as eloping had gone, they had still arranged a small ceremony and intimate reception in the mountains. The honeymoon in the log cabin had been romantic and passionate. Castiel had felt dizzy with the fantasy of the novelty of it. Dean had pulled out all the stops, candle lit shared bubble bath with champagne. There had been a gorgeous fireplace with a bear rug in front of it and Dean had made love to him for the first time as husbands in the fire light.

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Castiel had had a surprise for his new husband of his own during their honeymoon. He had left Dean on the bed to wait for him after they had gone for a short walk and enjoyed the mountain air. When Castiel had stepped out of the bathroom, he would to this day never forget Dean’s face. Complete shock that had quickly turn into heated lust.

Castiel had come out wearing his long mulberry robe and then had stood before his husband and dropped it to the floor. Castiel still had no idea when or how he had gotten so bold as to wear lingerie for Dean. A black laced top with thin straps. A high and wide garter belt that held his mid thigh stockings with lace bikini panties that had barely kept his excited cock confined. Dean had never jumped on him so quickly. They hadn’t left the bed for two whole days.

The return to the city had also been exciting, with the new house had been waiting for them. However for Castiel, so had Gabriel. His brother and his parents had been livid that he had secretly married Dean. Gabriel had fumed while their mother had exercised her guilt trip onslaught. Castiel wasn’t sure exactly when Gabriel had decided to give Dean zero chance, but he had never truly accepted Dean. Two years into their marriage, the accident had happened and it had shaken their otherwise happy life. Castiel’s insides twisted still now when he thought about the event that had changed things.



~^~ Dean couldn’t believe this was happening. After everything he had done, after all the months of hard work, the fucking system had failed! He was already unsteady and on his fourth drink? Or was it sixth drinks when the call came in. The two kidnapped kids had been found dead. Dean’s home office was swirling around him and all he could see were those two scared kids’ faces in his drunken stupor. Dean stood in the middle of his home office and the pure surge of rage coursed through him. He threw his now empty glass against the wall across the room, shattering it. He then shoved everything off his desk as he let out a primal growl of wrath.

Castiel came rushing into the room when he heard the shattering glass and found Dean with his back to him half kneeling down and reached for him. “De-”

Dean spun around so quick, so bewildered and in a flash, he backhanded Castiel in the process. The writer fell backwards as he yelped in shock. He held his cheek and looked up at his husband with wide frightened blue eyes as water filled them.

The pain of the hit rushed through him and Castiel couldn’t breathe for a whole minute as he landed on his ass.

At the exact same instant, both of them realized what had just happened. Dean sobered up in record time and reached for his lover. “Cas!”

“Don’t!” Castiel flinched backwards and stumbled onto his feet as he held his stinging cheek. Dean was coming towards him, face a twist between guilt and pain.

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“Cas I’m sorry I didn’t-” Dean started.

“Just don’t!” Castiel backed as tears blurred his sight as his husband trying to reach him gently. He bolted out of the office and hurried down the hall to the guest bath and slammed the door shut and locked it.

Dean was knocking on it lightly seconds letter. “Baby please, you know I didn’t mean to… I didn’t see you, I didn’t… Cas please…”

Castiel stared at himself in the mirror. The bruise was quickly darkening and swelling. Dean had hit him. He couldn’t wrap his mind around it… Dean had never ever made him think he would ever hurt him physically. Rationally Castiel knew it had been an accident and Dean hadn’t seen him or meant too….however as he listened to Dean on the other side of the door, his words were slurred and mumbling… he was drunk. Again. Castiel knew that his husband dealt with horrible things, which he couldn’t and wouldn’t talk to him about, but his drinking was excessive and was getting worse and now....

Castiel looked at the image of himself. He was disheveled and the large bruise prominent already. The swelling was taking shape and he could feel his pulse all over his heated face. His bottom lip was slightly cut in the corner and fresh tears slight down his pasty feeling face.

“Cas? Baby?” Dean was still knocking on the door. He sounded frantic yet his voice trembled with fear. “I’m so sorry, Cas please”

“Just go away! I don’t wanna see you right now!” The writer cried out, angry with himself when his voice cracked. He heard Dean back away and hit the wall opposite the door. Castiel heard sniffling and Dean murmuring ‘okay’ repeatedly until he heard his husband’s heavy footsteps walk away from the door and head towards the living room.

Dean sank down onto the sofa and the crushing weight of shame pressed against his chest. He stared at his hands in front of him. ‘I hit Cas, I hit Cas, I hit Cas’ was running through his struggling to be coherent brain like a mantra. The guilt was threatening to consume him. How could he have lost control of himself to this point? Dean fucked up, he always fucked up but this…. This was the worse thing he had ever done. He saw the shock and fear in those sky blue eyes he loved. Fear of HIM.

Dean couldn’t stop the heart wrenching sob that left his throat. He buried his face in his hands as tears escaped his eyes. What the fuck had he done? He drank to drown out the anger and anguish of his job. To erase the faces of the kids, the multiple victims Dean saw and would never be able to forget. He let himself fall so deeply into the bottle that he forgot himself. Forgot he wasn’t alone at HOME. Forgot his husband was here and worried about him. Dean never heard Cas walk into his office. Dean had swirled around on him and… and struck the love of his life. How could he even say those words when he hurt him?

Castiel was his whole world, the only good thing in his life. The one silver lining that didn’t make him feel like a shell of a man running from the nightmares his job brought him into. Cas was the only thing that made Dean feel human, feel good and happy… Dean knew Castiel dealt with a lot from him, accepted so much especially when he was gone for months and it was hard, but Castiel stayed…. What if Dean lost him now? He never deserved the shy writer he knew that… he knew that from that first day he had had the courage to talk to him while he was jogging.

In his haze he heard the bathroom door open and Dean stood. He stayed where he was, his ears at attention for anything and all he could hear was Castiel’s soft steps going up the stairs towards their bedroom. Dean made himself sit back down. Castiel would tell him when he wanted to speak to him… if at all. Until then he resigned himself to stay in the living room.

The sight of Castiel’s shocked and hurt face, blue eyes filled with confusion and fight… Dean whipped his face in frustration as hatred at himself filled him. How was he supposed to fix this? Would Castiel even hear him out? He had to know Dean hadn’t meant to, he had too… didn’t he?

Dean didn’t know how long he sat there in the dimly lit living room, angry with himself when he heard Castiel’s footsteps coming down the stairs. When his steps reached the landing, a rolling sound accompanied them. The seconds from the stairs for Castiel to walk into the living room pulling along a suitcase might as well have lasted hour in slow motion for Dean.

Pure panic wrapped itself tightly around the agent’s heart as he watch the man that held all of him dressed to leave with a fully packed suitcase. Dean felt numb and dizzy as it became harder to breath. His lungs wouldn’t work right.

“Cas…?” His throat was painfully dry and the words came out as a croak. Cas was leaving, Cas was leaving him. The tears wouldn’t stop and he couldn’t stop himself from taking a few steps towards the writer. “Please don’t, please, please” Dean was mumbling and as he got closer, Castiel moved away. Nothing hurt more than that simple action. Castiel didn’t want him near him. Castiel didn’t want him to touch him. Dean felt as if he had just been shot been. He had never felt such terror in his life.

“I need some space Dean. I need time to think” The writer told him, his voice soft and strained. Castiel wouldn’t even look at him.

“No! No, please Cas, please, don’t go please don’t leave me” Dean could just barely make out the shape of his husband between the tears drowning in his lashes.

Castiel’s tears rans down his own face as he glanced up at Dean. His lover stood just a few feet from him, looking completely shattered with his hand extended to touch him but unmoving. “I’ll call when I’m ready”

“No, no, no” Dean was mumbling, his throat too tight as he choked on his tears. Castiel pulled open the door and everything moved too slow. Dean reached for him, finally getting his feet to move for him only to collapse against the now closed front door. Castiel was gone.

Dean had wanted to touch him, to stop Cas and beg his forgiveness. It was a mistake… He fucked up. He fucked up. Castiel deserved better then him, he knew that. But he was selfish and he wanted him. Dean had wanted him to be his and stay… just stay. ~^~



It had been one of the hardest moments in Castiel’s life when he had left Dean. For almost of three months while he had stayed with Gabriel, it had been so difficult. Half of him kept wondering if he had over reacted by leaving while the other half of him felt he had needed to feel safe and at the time, he hadn’t. For those weeks, Gabriel had been a constant voice about divorcing Dean.

After the first few days of Castiel ignoring Dean’s calls, he had decided to text him even though Castiel hadn’t answered to those either. He figured Dean would at least hope he would read them, and he had, every single one. The first onslaught had been pleads, begging his forgiveness. Then the texts had gone into Dean’s self hatred and how he had never deserved Castiel in the first place. Dean would bring up small things Castiel hadn’t realized his husband paid attention too. Like how scared he had been when he had proposed. How every time Dean was away from him while on the job, that he was terrified he would come home to find Cas gone, tired of the radio silence. How much he loved that Castiel’s hair never parted to one side no matter how much he would fuss. The way Castiel’s lips would automatically slipped into a beautiful smile whenever he would see a kitten or animal. The way Castiel always gave Dean first choice of food items, and always saved him the last beer. The way Castiel’s eyes crinkled when Dean got him to laugh. The way his stunning azure blue eyes would light up when Dean said his name.

Then one text had simply read ‘They say actions speak louder than words. I hope I can correct mine’. And for weeks, Dean would text him ‘good morning and good night’ but nothing else. Gabriel had gone on about how Dean had most likely already moved on and found a woman to have in their marital bed. It was like his brother was attuned to voicing out loud his greatest fears even though he had been the one to walk out. However, in Castiel’s mind he hadn’t left Dean. Not really. Cas didn’t want things to be over he had just… he had just needed time to forgive him? He wasn’t even sure. Dean’s texts promising he would change and get help only to go silent had renewed a whole new fear inside of the writer. One Gabriel kept voicing but he couldn’t bring himself to comment on.

Then on that fateful Sunday afternoon while Gabriel had gone on a food run. A knock sounded at the door. Castiel had gone to answer it, thinking his brother had forgotten his key and was left with the surprise of finding his husband on the other side of the door. Castiel had still been sulking and a mess, dressed in his favorite dark blue FBI sweat pants that belonged to Dean along with his oldest grey baggy sweater that was currently sporting a mustard stain.

Dean on the other hand had looked as handsome as ever. Dean was clean shaven, hair spiked and looked rested which had sent a mixed feeling of anger and arousal down Castiel’s spine. The agent was in a pair of black jeans with the hems of a dark grey and royal blue plaid shirt sticking out from his half zipped up maroon leather jacket.

Castiel had been taken so aback that a small and surprised ‘Dean’ escaped his lips.

Dean had stood there, his fern green eyes bright and silently racking over Castiel’s mess of a self which only served to add to the writer’s irritation at his current state. His husband looked, well looked ridiculously handsome. It was bullshit.

Dean had murmured an apology for showing up unannounced and uninvited. He informed him he wouldn’t take up much of his time, he just wanted to give him something.

Castiel remembered ever so firmly how much his stomach had lurched violently when Dean had handed him a large orange envelope. The agent had racked his eyes over him once more before he had turned to leave. Castiel had practically ripped open the envelope right there at the door, fully expecting to find divorce papers. He had never felt so sick in his life.

However, what he ended up finding wasn’t what he had painfully expected. Inside there was a two month course certification of Anger Management completion… along with a six weeks sobriety chip of completion. He had looked up at Dean who had stood silently by his car door watching him asses the documents in his hands. “I meant what I said Cas. I’ll do anything to have you back. To show you I’ll do better. You’re all I have and I need you” Despite Dean looking physically good, he had sounded anything but. He had sounded scared and pained.

Gabriel had returned home to find Castiel kissing Dean desperately against the car, still dressed in his disheveled sweats.

Castiel couldn’t remember what had happened exactly, only that he had returned home with Dean. Things had been better then before, they had started on a new chapter together. Castiel had never felt stronger in their marriage. That was why that with this picture and name going viral, they would figure it out.

The one thing he knew for certain was that his relationship with his brother was forever cracked. “You should go” He voiced. Gabriel looked at him pensively. “I um, I think it would be best if I found a new manager. I don’t have to leave your publishing house but I don’t want to deal with you directly anymore”

“Cassie” Gabriel started to protest but Castiel cut him off.

“I think Balthazar or Gadreel you have working for you would do just fine. Right now I need space from you. You crossed a line Gabriel” Castiel stated. He felt half disconnected to the conversation while the other half of him was filled with disbelief and such anger towards his brother it was like a stone at the pit of his stomach.

Gabriel placed his hand on his arm but Castiel pushed him away and took a step back. “Please Gabe… just go” Castiel voice was strained and tears had started to fill his eyes. Gabriel had always been there for him, had always helped him to grow into his own and this hurt more then Castiel could put into words. He trusted Dean to figure things out and to make sure they stayed safe from whatever demons Dean dealt in his line of work that could come after them.

“Ok Cassie…” Castiel didn’t watch his brother leave and once he heard the front door close, he released the painful breath he had been holding.


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Gabriel wasn’t exactly sure why he had gone to their parents estate after Castiel asked him to leave. He felt melancholy and defeated. He could hear his mother in the other room going on about some socialite dressed deplorably while his father grunted. He was completely ignoring her as she went on.

He found himself wandering through the many over landish hallways until he was in the far north wing and stood numbly in front of Castiel’s bedroom. The door was bland and boring like at the other impeccably white doors in the mansion and he opened the door.

Castiel’s bedroom had more or less stayed the same as he had grown up. From the scrawny stick of a kid that had broken his arm to the bookworm teenager that was too lost in inspiring fictional stories to know what the outside world looked like. The queen bed was still in the middle of the room, green and brown striped comforter that seemed molded to the bed. His telescope he had gotten for his twelfth birthday was still pointed and aimed at the big dipper in the sky. The far wall had been painted a plain slate of grey and house more book shelves then Gabriel even though should be in a teenage boy’s bedroom, ever. He corner desk that housed his desktop and reading lamp looked lonely. Of course there wasn’t a speck of dusk in the whole room thanks to the maid but the room still held that sheltered feel to it that Castiel always had about him. The shy kid that loved fictional characters and dreamed up of adventurous story to bore Gabriel to death when he babysat the brat.

The older Novak numbly sat down on the large bed. It had been huge to pre teen Castiel, like the covers had tended to swallow him. Gabriel had always been the one Castiel has seek out while growing up. They father had always been to busy traveling for business while their mother sucked the attention of anyone away for herself. He had learned rather early on that hoping to have Naomi and Jim Novak’s love and affection was a pointless effort. They had kids because it was the thing to do and make sure they went to the best schools with the highest scores because it made them look good. Naomi had something to boast about to her socialite hoards while Jim busied himself with ‘business’.

Being the middle child, Gabriel had had no qualms about tearing through the house and being a living nightmare that ran around the Novak Estate because their parents didn’t care. Nannies and Caretakers worked to clean up his messes while his mother perfected the guilt trip effect. By the time he was a teenager and Castiel was still in the single digits, he was used to their mother’s dramatic antics to get what she wanted from people.

Their sister Hester had left home as soon as she had turned 18 and Gabriel to this day barely ever heard from her. He wasn’t even sure he would recognize her in a crowd. Part of him was still angry at her for just leaving them.

It wasn’t long that Castiel started staying around Gabriel more often. Castiel was always watching him with his large cerulean blue eyes, full of curiosity. Gabriel had made the decision early on to look after his innocent little brother. He had been there for Castiel’s nightmares, had been there when he would get straight A’s on his report card or win the spelling bee. Castiel would be excited to show their parents only for their mother to crush his spirits by ignoring him or telling him in a tipsy stupor that he could have done better. Gabriel had always been the one to cheer him up and tell him he was amazing and smart.

Remembering that gummy happy grin of his kid brother’s 10 year old face now felt like a lifetime ago. He had always been protective of Castiel and it had only grew the older they got.

Gabriel had beaten the bullies that had picked on Cassie. Held him and told him nothing was wrong with him when a girl had kissed him and he hadn’t enjoyed it. He was there for him during his awkward stage as a teenager trying to figure himself out. Gabriel had known way before Castiel had ever come out to him and their family that he was into men. It hadn’t changed anything for him, only made him feel all the more worried and protective. Despite being a smart bookworm, Castiel had always had a boyish innocence to him that had never really went away.

That was why when Castiel had met Dean, Gabriel had at first wanted to be supportive of course, yet the more Castiel had divulge to him about Dean and their relationship, the more he had disliked the guy. Even more so after he had actually met him. Dean Winchester was the epitome of the hot heartthrob in every typical story. Only Gabriel hadn’t been sure if Dean was going the be the asshole or the knight in shining armor. Gabriel wasn’t knew to how the world worked . When you looked and sounded like Dean fucking Winchester, you could have anything and do anything, regardless who you stepped on. Gabriel had made up his mind on first sight that he wouldn’t let him break Castiel’s heart. However, it had proven to be easier said than done. To steer his quickly fallen baby brother from the good looking bastard, had been impossible.

~^~The brothers were having their monthly meet up at the favorite restaurant of Italian goodness named I Sodi off of Bleecker st. From the moment Castiel had sat down, Gabriel new something was up.

After halfway through the regular routine of teasing and eating through the first half of appetizers, Gabriel sat back and eyed his little brother suspiciously. “Ok whats going on, spill”

Castiel smiled at him and it was a rare, dazzling and excited smile the older Novak wasn’t sure he had ever actually seen on his brother. Castiel took out a thick binding of papers that were neatly pressed from his satchel and handed it over to Gabriel.

Gabriel looked at it and scanned the top page. The Thursday Chronicles by C.Novak. His eyes went wide. “Is this it? Your book you’ve been trying to write forever? Its done?”

Castiel laughed. “No, not all of it, i mean, this is just a rough draft I sent in to an editor to see its chances and they said it's very promising!”

“Oh my god Cassie! You’ve been killing yourself about this! You know Paragon Publishings is picking up this manuscript!” Gabriel went on as he left through the pages. “But I don’t get it, I thought you were suffering from your writer’s block or whatever you called it. What changed?” He questioned suspiciously. Not that he wasn’t happy for his brother but the kid had been sulking for year about his writer’s block after leaving medical school.

“I um, I met someone” Castiel announced, his cheeks turned a shade of pink Gabriel hadn’t seen on him in a long time and smiled sheepishly.

“Oh?” Gabriel mused.

“Yeah, um, his name is Dean. I don’t know, he just inspired this new character and then the story just started writing itself and I couldn’t stop.” Castiel informed him in a rush trying to get the words out as quickly as possible.~^~

At the time, all Gabriel had known and cared about was how happy Castiel had seemed. He had started writing again and this ‘Dean’ had inspired something in him for his dream to take form and take off. So Gabriel had planned to stay back and see where things would go. After that, Castiel would gush and tell him about Dean Winchester, his new lover that made his baby brother smile like a highschool boy getting his crush to notice him. Every dinner they had would bring more information that Castiel was willing to share about Dean into Gabriel’s perspective. Then came the dinner where Castiel had finally admitted something to him about Dean that had right away made Gabriel dislike him.

~^~“Talk to me. You look upset, whats going on with you?” Gabriel questioned, his tone filled with worry.

Castiel sighed and pushed his garlic pizza crust around the marinara sauce dejectedly. “Its nothing, really. I just… I let myself think things and I shouldn’t”

Gabriel arch a brow and crossed his arms over his chest. “Explain”

Castiel bit the bottom of his lip like he always did when he felt unsure. “Its just… Dean admitted something to me and I just….”

“What? You’ve been looking happily fucked every time I see you, so don’t shy away now princess” Gabriel urged, watching Castiel turn beet red and look around hoping no one had heard Gabriel’s loud mouth.

“Gabriel!” He hissed before he took a long sip of his ice water. “He just…. I’m his first guy”

Gabriel’s eyebrows disappeared into his hairline. “What so he’s in the closet?”

“No, he’s bi, he was married before”

“So what? You're not boyfriends suddenly? It's just sex or something? He’s just getting his curiosity with taking it in the ass out of his system?”

“I’m the one that bottoms if you must know. I prefer it and I don’t know. I’m not sure how the feel about him telling me this”


“I just have to keep my feelings in check, that’s all”

“You mean you’ll stick around until he’s had his fill and you’ll pick up the pieces when he leaves you for the next skirt”

“Can you not be an asshole all the time?” Castiel barked with tears in his eyes before he abruptly stood and left the restaurant.~^~

It had been quite obvious already by then that his brother had already been quite gone on Dean Winchester. He had readied himself to be there for Castiel when lover boy had broken his heart and dipped. However the opposite had happened. Castiel had shared his insecurities with Gabriel many times over. Dean was oh so good looking but he was so plain. Dean was an active persona. He loved cars and sports but Castiel only really enjoyed running. What if Dean got bored of him, what if he met a woman that interested him more? Or maybe another man? Castiel wasn’t anything spectacular. Gabriel wanted to throttle him at times for thinking such things and had been a bit surprised when Castiel had admitted telling Dean these exact same fears, only not as much.

The ever so present Dean Winchester had slowly, yet noticeably started to build Castiel’s confidence. Reluctantly Gabriel had seen it. As the months went on and Castiel stayed with his ‘boyfriend’ more often than not, those fears seemed to diminish one by one.

Something that also hadn’t gone unnoticed to Gabriel was the lack of information Castiel seemed to have on Dean. Like something as simple as his job. The only thing the younger Novak had been able to tell him was that Dean was a Federal Agent. He hadn’t been able to tell him what field or anything close to what he actually did in the FBI.

Gabriel laid down on Castiel’s old bed and looked up are the glow in the dark stars that were still on his baby brother’s old bedroom ceiling. He remembered when Castiel had just burst through his apartment door they had been sharing at the time, practically floating on air with a beaming smile.

~^~“Gabriel! Gabriel!” Castiel came running into the living room with a greatest smile Gabriel had ever seen and hugged him tightly before he could even reply. He had just woken up second from a nap seconds before his brother had burst through their apartment's front door.


“Look!” Castiel had instructed with glee as he shoved his left hand into his brother’s face.

The silver and blue of the ring on his baby brother’s hand looked… expensive. “He put a ring on it huh?” It was all he could say. Castiel looked so ecstatic he couldn’t dash that smile of his brother’s face.~^~

Gabriel sighed. He also remembered when Castiel had told the news to his parents during a Sunday dinner at the estate. The engagement had been received as expected, their father indifferent as if Castiel was a five year old that had found a ladybug on a window sill while their mother had snubbed her nose and started in on Castiel.

“Do you think you're enough to keep him interested? I mean, I only want the best for you of course. I’m not quite sure this would be a accepted in Church. I’m quite sure you’ll grow out of this phase, marry a nice girl. Its a bit of an embarrassment you place on us Castiel. It hurts honestly when you know we simply want the best for you”

Gabriel had watched the light of joy leave Castiel’s blue eyes as his mother continued. He laid there on his brother’s childhood bed and a shame he hadn’t fully let bloom inside of him reminded him that he hadn’t defended Castiel that night. He hadn’t wanted Castiel to marry Dean. He had still felt that it was a bad idea. He didn’t even know how he had stomached their mother reminding Castiel, that yet again that his own family didn’t accept him. That he wasn’t enough, once again.

Later when they had gone home to their shared apartment, Gabriel had tried to quietly tell Castiel, that he agreed with their mother. He was quick to specify he agreed only about not marrying Dean, nothing else. Gabriel loved him as is. Castiel hadn’t said a word and instead had gone into his bedroom and closed the door.

It wasn’t long after that Castiel had suddenly left town with Dean. He had been so livid when Castiel had returned. He was married to Dean fucking Winchester and was moving out, his room filled with boxed because the newlyweds had purchased their home before they had left time to marry and have their honeymoon. Gabriel had never been so angry. Castiel had also legally changed his name from Novak to Winchester.

Livid he had uninvitedly followed Castiel to the house he had purchased with Dean. As the couple had gone on unloading their individual cars of boxes and belongings into the house. Gabriel had parked his car on the curb and marched into the house and found Dean Winchester swirling around on him, brows in confusion. They had never official met until that point. Castiel had walked back into the living room before either could say and word.

“Gabriel?” Castiel had looked at him in surprise and worry. Dean beamed then and smiled at Gabriel and went to shake his hand in introduction.

“Hey man, nice to finally meet you! Cas said-” Was as far as Dean had gotten out before Gabriel had sucker punched him right in the month.

Castiel had flown between them and yelled at Gabriel. “What’s wrong with you!?”

Dean had shown remarkable strength in keeping his self restrained and had stood still and whipped the bit of blood from his lip with his hand. Predatory and ridiculously intense green glare had rooted Gabriel to the spot when Dean ever so calmly said. “You should leave”

Gabriel didn’t remember leaving, only how after Castiel had tore into him and reminded he had was lucky Dean hadn't pressed charges. Assault on a federal officer was no small thing.

Gabriel and Dean stayed clear of each other after that. Castiel was spitting out books every six months since his muse was ever so present to stay. Then Dean would be gone for months and weeks at the time because of his ‘job’. He felt such harbored resentment towards a man he didn’t even know beyond his brothers words and for the life of him, he placed it all as a protective nature. Then the incident had happened. Dean had hit Castiel. He didn’t care how many times Castiel had told him it had been an accident, the bastard still had hit him, and hit him hard.

When he had opened his front door that day finding Castiel on the other side of it with his face swollen and the bruise making itself known, it had taken every ounce of will he had in his body not to go find Dean. Castiel had made him promise and he repeatedly told him he didn’t need him to make things worse.

Watching his baby brother's dejected and gloomy wander around the apartment as if his insides had been broken, hearing him cry from fucking missing that bastard that had hit him. Gabriel had tried, repeatedly and had approached the subject with every angle he could think of to get Castiel to divorce Dean. Yet Castiel wouldn’t. He wouldn’t agreed. Castiel would barely even say anything, he would just listened and stare off into the distance in a daze or roll his wedding ring around until it made Gabriel dizzy.

Then, of course one of the rare occasions he had left Castiel alone, Dean had showed up. He said the seemingly magic words and the next thing he knew, Castiel was back with hubby and everything was all peaches again.

Castiel had insisted over the last five years that he hadn’t even given Dean a fair chance. Maybe he hadn’t, but Gabriel had felt he had been right in his actions and dislike of the man. Now however, maybe he had stepped over the line. Going through his brother’s phone to find a selfie of them and then post it on social media with Dean’s name well, at the time, he had felt righteous in his ’sneaky’ actions. He had googled ‘Dean Winchester’ in the beginning when Castiel had told him his name and Gabriel hadn’t been able to find much of anything. No picture, no profile on any media apps. It was ridiculous and suspicious. When Castiel had told him Dean worked for the FBI, for some reason, he hadn’t been able to believe him. He still wasn’t completely 100%.

When Gabriel posted that picture, with Castiel and his great husband Dean Winchester on social media, he had told himself it was because he wanted the world to see Castiel wasn’t just some sad and lonely shut in recluse that the blogs and some fans painted him as. Gabriel had found it a bit amusing in the beginning when he heard fans thought Castiel was a woman writer and not a man. The illusion or maybe full on lie he had convinced himself of why he had proceeded with his actions was that he wanted the world to see Castiel ‘happy’. Kind of a ‘hey! Look at the hot asshole I’m married to!’. Yes Gabriel hated Dean but he also knew how good looking the bastard was. However, then there was the other side of reasons for his actions. FBI or not, why the fuck was Dean Winchester none existent online? No trace of him just made him more suspicious and he wanted to out ‘Dean’. He was practically convinced he was living a double life, actually married to someone else with kids across the country under another name. He had wanted, so much for that post to reveal he was right. Basking in the knowledge that he could prove to Castiel that Dean Winchester was a user and abuser. Of course money had played into his theories. Castiel was well off with his book series and of course their grandparents had left him quite a chunk of money. He had convinced himself that even though he knew for a fact, Castiel hadn’t touched any of his inheritance, he was still sure Dean knew about the money.

Ok, yes. It was a hell of a jumble of theories he had about Winchester, but knowing he was keeping Castiel a form of a secret, one way or another urked him in ways he couldn’t name. All he had ever wanted was to expose Dean for the piece of shit he was sure he was. He was never home, gone for fucking months and unable to communicate with Castiel for safety reasons? No, it was just not ok in his book.

Yet now, the guilt was eating at him. Dean had looked genuinely scared about Castiel’s safety… Castiel being this upset with him, to the point of firing him as his manager… his brother really believed Dean about being in danger… but what if that was just another lie from Winchester to protect what he was really hiding?

Gabriel sat up on Castiel’s old bed and took out his cell phone. Gabriel went in search of the picture he had posted… it was gone. Just deleted. ‘This image is unavailable’. What the fuck? He opened google and typed in ‘Dean Winchester’ and expected to receive the same as before, nothing, or at least the picture he has posted, but what popped up sent a deep sense of fear. A few dozen profiles of random social media site such as facebook and instagram showed accounts for a Dean Winchester and as Gabriel clicked through them, they we all different.

Dean Winchester of Pontiac IL, was a 63yr old man. There was pictures of him with a family. Another was of a Dean Winchester of Long Island NY, who was a 26 yr old guy who had a ton of pictures of different cakes and pastries. Anther was of a Dean Winchester of Cook IL, 43yr old and was some kind of professor at a University who wore sweater vests with bow ties and glasses and had an unhealthy love for his three house cats.

Gabriel was staring wide eyed at his cell phone. Where the fuck had all these profiles come from? None of these had been there just a few very short years ago.

Who the fuck was the Dean Winchester his baby brother was married too?


Sam was pacing the length of Mills’ office while Jody herself, Luc and Dean were all seated waiting for the attorney to gather his thoughts and let him in on his plan.

“With the case having taken place in Arizona, it gives us a bit of an advantage on the identity front. The case is solid, every piece of evidence you collected and Ketch was able to forward is damning for all involved and I’m not worried about the verdicts.” Sam stated as he stood in place, looking every bit the high profile federal attorney he was.

Dean knew that if Sam wasn’t worried about the case itself and said it was solid, that it was all green when it came to shutting down those sick bastards and locking them up while continuing to dismember their internal operations over the web.

“Now, as we’ve done in past cases, Abel O’Connor will have to testify. The whole plea deal scenario.” Sam informed.

“So I’ll have to go to Arizona” Dean confirmed. He never knew what they planned for Abel ahead of time, he wasn’t sure they knew. It was always about protecting the case evidence as well as Dean’s identity and his character of Abel O’Connor.

“Yes. Also, as I mentioned, Jody called me. She told me about your request of transfer and to be honest Dean, on a personal level, it's about damn time, but as a Federal Attorney, it's damning to lose you. You’re the best at what you do. I’m just starting facts. We’ve brought down countless monsters over the years because of you and like I said, work-wise, I’m already having nightmares of having our best player off the board. But, I’m relieved at the same time. This job, its consuming, the shit you see and deal with. I can’t imagine and as your brother and friend, I’m so happy that you want out. Stay glued to Cas a bit” Sam teased. Dammit Dean hated when he went all feelings on him. Dean just nodded, it was a lot to take in.

Dean turned to Jody and Luc. “So does that mean you’ve approved my request of transfer?”

Jody rolled her eyes. “Yes, but Abel still has a part to play”

Dean turned back to his brother. “This where you’re great plan comes in?”

Sam’s lips twitched. “Yeah. The usual has more or less been that when you, Abel O’Connor, testified in past cases. It was always done in the judge’s chambers privately where no one sees the undercover cop or fed’s real face to help protect his identity. However, with that compromise and you wanting ‘out’, we have to get creative but ensure you won't be hunted down later”

“Yeah” The agent agreed..

“I know Dean, that’s why we have to kill Abel O’Connor” Sam voiced.

Dean’s eyebrows shot up into his hairline. “Oh? And how are we doing that?”

“We will have to play it perfectly for it to work. But the basics of it is, once you testify on the stand and out in the open, as a perp getting a plea deal for testifying against the others, I’ll mention you’re alias that you’ve use. You’ll name Dean Winchester as one along with a few other Charlie added to your file like i asked. Once you’re done and you’re stepping down, Abel will be shot in the courtroom, ‘killing’ him, effectively stopping anyone from ever looking for you further.” Sam revealed.

“Okay, well you make it sound so much easier then said” Dean groaned as he rubbed his face.

“I already have everything in place, only a few small ends to tie to pull this off. Before you even think about it, no, you can’t tell Cas any of this either. You’re almost home free. Just a few more days, two weeks tops” Jody announced and all Dean could do was nod his agreement.

Chapter Text

“Dean...oh… yes. Yes.yes” Castiel moaned into the pillow as he gasped for breath, his fingers curling into the bed sheets as his husband licked him open. He was sure he looked completely ridiculous but couldn’t find it in him to care. Ass up and presented as Dean rimmed him. Face down into the mattress as he moaned eagerly as he circled his hips ever so slightly without fully being aware of his actions as his lover made him wild.

Dean hummed against him. Large hands spreading Castiel’s perky cheeks as the agent licked him with the flat of his tongue over his twitching hole. He spun his tongue around the tight muscle ring and pushed in, curling it on the way back out to catch against the rim. Dean plunged his tongue in and out, lapping hungrily, gaining all the beautiful little noises his husband made.

Castiel loved when Dean did this. Take him completely apart with just his tongue. The sensations of Dean’s sinful tongue licking and sucking him open, those big hand spreading him, barring him while he was bent over, legs spread. It excited him beyond words, beyond comprehension. Castiel felt naughty, a little needy and slutty but it turned him on so much he couldn’t find it in him to stop wanting this.

Dean gently brought his cock back towards him and licked it sloppily, saliva coating it as his mouth moved up his shaft and took each ball into his mouth and sucked them lightly. Castiel was moaning loudly, his legs trembled Castiel cried out in pleasure when Dean slid in two wet fingers into his loosened hole.

“Dean… Dean…” He was gasping and whining as Dean slid in a third and twisted them inside of him. His skin was hyper sensitive as Dean’s mouth left a trail of wet open kisses against his heated skin as he fucked him open with his fingers. Castiel’s thighs, his ass cheeks, his lower back until he traveled back down again and bite his left cheek lightly. “Please…”

Dean kneeled behind him and Castiel didn’t have time to growl about his fingers leaving him. He felt his husband’s slicked cock head push into him carefully. Castiel gasped, mouth open and silent as Dean slid into him, deliciously slow, deliberately making him feel every single inch as he sank into him.

“Fuck Cas” Dean leaned forward once his pelvis was flush against his lover’s ass, deeply sheathed inside of him. He kissed Castiel’s shoulders and neck, biting at the nape were his dark hairs curled. Dean pushed Castiel’s legs down and open as he followed. He was completely draped over his smaller lover. Castiel’s legs locked around Dean’s calfs as the agent started to thrust into him. Fast and deep thrust as they rocked back and forth. Dean wrapped his arms around Castiel’s shoulders as they laced their fingers together and moved as one.

Dean’s cock was rubbing his prostate and he could barely make any coherent words. His own cock was grinding against the soft sheets with every thrust Dean made with a swirl of his hips.

“Dean… I can’t...I’m…” Castiel was so far gone and pretty sure he was drooling as Dean licked at his neck.

“Come for me baby” The agent moaned into his ear, voice low and filled with desire that sent chills down Castiel’s back. The knot of intensifying pleasure at the base of his spine tingled and then Dean slid in, ever so deeply and pressed into his prostate. He stayed there, grinding his hips and made Castiel cry out as his climax rushed through him. “So beautiful baby” Dean gasped into his ear as Castiel’s body clamped down on him.

Castiel came between his stomach and the sheets. He panted as his heart slammed against his rib-cage as Dean lifted up, holding himself up on his hands besides Castiel’s sides and slammed himself into Castiel’s heat, chasing his own release. His thrusts became erratic and Dean groaned as his orgasm hit him. He came, spilling his seed deep inside of his husband’s over sensitive whole, rolling his hips as he panted.

Dean gently pulled out his softening cock and laid down next to his lover. Castiel was already half asleep, smirking as his husband who looked over at him and then moved forward to kiss him softly.

“When are you supposed to leave?” The gently question almost surprised Dean but he knows he shouldn’t be. Castiel knew something was going to happen. If he thought about a routine, it tended to be that whenever Dean would return from a case after weeks or months, depending on the evidence and how much time the higher ups and prosecutors took in getting the ball rolling. Dean would leave again, a week or month later to testify. He would be gone about a week then come back and stay on ‘vacation’ until a new assignment was assigned. However there was also the small issue of his picture and named having been released. Although he was confident Charlie had ‘fixed’ the idea of it. He couldn’t really tell Castiel the details. But he was sure the writer was expecting him to have to do some sort of damage control.

After Sam had gone over his plan with a fine tooth comb for hours, Dean returned home to find Castiel waiting for him in their kitchen. The writer had made his delicious meatloaf Dean loved with spicy mustard sauce. Castiel had looked up at Dean with worry and guilt in those gorgeous eyes of his. Dean had felt a bit foolish. He knew damn well Castiel would have never shared the picture online. It hadn’t really been hard to figure out who had done it once he had calmed down and thought about it. The picture being posting during the end of Castiel’s live interview, was a bit of a give away. Dean was sure it had been Gabriel. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to do about the shorter Novak but all he cared about now was being with Castiel. Removing that little worry frown from his pretty face and showing him how much he loved him.

They had fallen in bed pretty easily and when Dean didn’t bring up the issue of his identity, Castiel took the cue and didn’t ask. Drowning in each other’s kisses and touches was much easier.

“In a few days. Should be gone just about a week” Dean replied, his voice husky and deep from their session. Castiel nodded, his sleepy blue eyes heavy as he smiled understandingly. His left hand came up slowly and caressed Dean’s face. He traced Dean’s nose, his cheeks and chin before letting his fingers rub against the stumble starting to grow.

“That means I can’t shave you” Castiel’s voice was soft but filled with a sassy annoyance that made Dean laugh. He hated Dean’s beard. The agent took his lover hand and kissed every knuckle, then his palm as he turned to lay on his side to face his drowsy lover.

“No, you can’t. I can tickle you with it” He teased, wiggling his eyebrows making Castiel smile into the pillow before he turned away. On autopilot, Dean reached for him and pulled him against his chest, spooning him. “I love you” He whispered into his now half asleep husband.

Castiel settled himself firmly against Dean’s strong chest, wrapped in his arms, safe and warm. He didn’t care about the mess between his legs nor on the bed. He just focused on this, on them here together. When Dean had come home after running out to go to the bureau about the picture being released, he wasn’t sure what to expect. He knew it was Gabriel and he had been ready to tell Dean but his husband had looked at him with a look of understand and hunger. Before Castiel had even managed to say a word, Dean had been on him in seconds. His hands had gone into Castiel’s dark, messy hair and angled his head as he had wanted it before he devoured Castiel’s mouth. Dean had lifted him easily, making Castiel wrap his legs around his waist and took him to their bed. There was nothing in the world like having Dean touch him.

“I love you too” Castiel was almost completely asleep as he replied. He felt Dean’s soft, barely there kisses his husband was leaving on his shoulder, on his neck. The scruff lightly leaving tingling sensations behind. He sighed contently, this was always the part he loved the most, just laying in bed, with Dean wrapped around him.

Dean started petting him. He ran his fingers ever so lightly in his hair, the nape of his neck which were followed by sweet gentle kisses. “I wish I could tell you. Tell you about my job, about what will happen when I go to testify” The agent whispered into his lover’s skin. “Just please, don’t worry. I promise everything will be ok”

Castiel opened his eyes and moved to turn onto his back to look up at his husband. Dean never said things like this. “Dean?” He watched as a series of emotions played across his lover’s face.

Dean caressed Castiel’s face, seeing those big gorgeous blue eyes completely focused on him always made warmth seep into his bones. The blue always changing and dancing from cobalts blues to sky blues. They practically sparkled, especially when he was laughing and smiling which Dean loved the most. His husband was beautiful, soft yet lean and strong. He was the implement of physical perfection to Dean.

“What’s going to happen?” Castiel wondered, voice nothing but a whisper as Dean’s thumb brushed his bottom plush pink lip.

The way his nose was a straight fine point and then wrinkled when he smiled. The crows feet by his eyes that only seem to make the blue jewel wider. His lavish pink lips that always look chapped, yet were incredibly soft. He was clever and sharp witted. Had sass and complete innocence with a greatest and biggest heart Dean had ever known anyone to have. He trusted Dean and he had made sure to work damn hard to earn it. This angel that laid before him loved him, with all of his fault, accepted him and forgave him for his shortcomings and Dean had always known he wasn’t worthy of such a person. But Castiel had chosen him and he would do his damndest to make sure he didn’t regret it.

“You are my everything” Dean stated and kissed his husband gently, slowly savoring the taste of him as he deepened the kiss. Castiel easily opened up to him and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck. “I can’t tell you, but I promise everything will be ok. I just need you to believe in me still”

Castiel frowned at him, worry and slight fear showed in his clean azure blue eyes, but they always showed love. Love and certainty. “You know I do”

Dean sealed his lips once more before moving back between Castiel’s legs.


The seven days that followed had passed much too quickly for Castiel’s liking. Dean had been home with him the entire week. It had seemed to be over within a blink of an eye before he had to leave for the bureau and to god knew where to testify.

Each day had been spent wrapped around each other. Lounging on the sofa cuddled up watching reruns of Castiel’s favorite Big Cat Diaries and Animal Kingdom as well as Dean’s favorites like The Big Bang Theory and Game of Thrones. Getting up together to start the lazy day, then going to bed wrapped in each other’s embrace. They cooked together, ate together. Showered, slept, made love, cuddled and went for short walks together. It was almost as if any and all adult responsibilities had taken a back seat to this week of needing to be a unit between them. Both acted needy with the other and neither cared.

It had been nice to pretend that the growing fear in Castiel’s gut didn’t exist. When Dean had voiced wanting to tell him that everything would be ok, it had only served to seed a worry deep inside of the writer’s heart. Castiel knew Dean hadn’t meant anything but to do just that, however Castiel’s mind was a creative one and when fear and/or worry was involved, his mind tended to be his worse enemy.

Then Dean kissed him until both needed to breathe. Dean’s full ginger beard irritated Castiel’s sensitive skin for the last few days but he wouldn’t voice it. Castiel wouldn’t want to be without Dean’s kisses because of the damn coarse hair on his face was a must for the testifying part of his job. Before Castiel could even truly let it sink in, Dean was out the door and the silent ‘click’ of the door felt infinitely loud in his ears.



He couldn’t wait for this to be over. He was tired and felt grumpy. Leaving Cas minutes ago felt wrong. He wanted to tell the cab to turn around, stay home, wrap his arms around his husband and not give a fuck about the rest of the world.

Dean sighed as he looked at the window. The cab taking him towards the bureau. He knew this final part was necessary, he just felt so incredibly tired.

Everything would be over in a few days and then he could be home. Dean could tell Cas about his job transfer and never have to leave for weeks or month at a time again. He was actually feeling excited about the change. Being able to come home to their house, to Cas every night. Not making him worry and for Dean to finally not have to see anymore of this ugly world. He knows he’s made a dent, but he also knows there’s always more. He’s done his part now. He can continue to help by training others like Bobby and Rufus had done for him. The next part in his life will be all for Cas. That’s what he wants and that’s certainly what he needs. Castiel’s happy smile that made his insides melt when directed at him. Those ever so expressive ocean blue eyes that made Dean second guess everything in existence because there is nothing more beautiful.

The cab pulls up to the bureau, bringing him out of his thoughts. After Dean paid the cab driver and exited the car, he slipped into the Federal building and headed towards the security check in with his credentials. The elevators ‘pinged’ just as he walked up to them. He was going to make a quick stop into his office before heading over to Jody and Luc. The jet was leaving in an hour.

“Hi Adam” Dean smiled at his assistant who quickly stood when he caught sight of him.

“Good morning Agent Winchester, your brother just called and is on his way” Adam greeted him.

“Great” Dean reached for his door.

“Sir, there’s also someone here to see you. He said you were expecting him. Should I have called you in regards to it?” Dean frowned at his assistant. Who the hell would come here to see him besides his family. “He was quite adamant about seeing you. He mentioned your husband” Adam added quietly.

Dean took a few steps further to see in the glass side of his office. He clenched his jaw when he saw who was waiting for him. “No, you’re fine Adam thank you, I’ll only be a minute.”

He opened his office door making the man inside swirl around.

“Gabriel, what are you doing here?” Dean demanded as he made his way to his desk while he looked around for any other surprises besides the in-law himself.

“So you really are an FBI agent and your name really is Dean Winchester” Gabriel stated as his honey hazel eyes looked over Dean. His face was a mix of genuine shock and irritation.

“You still haven’t told me why you are here” Dean growled out as he caught a glimpse of Sam coming towards his office.

Gabriel smirked sadly and sat himself in one of Dean’s visiting chairs while the agent stayed standing. “You know, I’ve never liked you. I still don’t. But I guess confirming you are in fact an agent helps to know you aren’t lying to Cassie, at least not about this” He casual stated as if he was talking about the weather. Gabriel was waving his right hand around emphasizing Dean’s surroundings.

Dean had a ridiculous amount of awards and certifications as well as medals and prize plaque on his shelves behind his desk.

“Well, I’m here to satisfy my curiosity and make sure Cassie is safe” Gabriel started with a smirk on his face that dared Dean.

Dean saw Sam wave that he was waiting for him in the hall through the glass wall by his door. He gave his brother a quick nod and then looked at Gabriel with anything but amusement. He came around his desk and leaned back against it in front of Gabriel, making sure the jackass had to look up at him. The hostility between them was almost electric. “Oh, you mean after you posted that picture of us with my name online?”

A flash of regret crossed Gabriel’s features. If Dean had been anyone else, he would have missed it with how quickly the shorter man schooled his face.

“Did you figure it out all by yourself like a big boy?” Gabriel was trying to bait him. Dean made himself calm down. He reminded himself he wouldn’t hurt the asshole because of Cas. The only reason the bastard wasn’t on the floor now. “It's kinda funny. Years ago there was no ‘Dean Winchester’ anywhere when I put your name in google. Yet after I posted the picture, all of a sudden there’s over twenty ‘Dean Winchesters’ across the great US of A!”

“Gabe, I don’t have time for your bullshit so I’ll say this once. The work I do is dangerous and involves extremely dangerous. Those people would have no problem taking me or Cas out to serve their purpose and make sure there is nothing in their way. Powerful people that have subordinates every where, ready to do what they can to keep their billion dollar business from going down, especially the merchandise which are victims. You want to hurt me and cause problems for me cause you’re too childish to see your brother happy, fine. But when you put Cas in danger, I will fuck you up and no one will know where to find your body.” Dean was close to him, his voice calm and eerie, filled with vicious rage that was terrifyingly controlled. Gabe could barely look into his wild furious jade eyes.

A soft knock sounded at the door and Sam poked his head in. “Dean we gotta go, the jet is ready” Was all Sam said as he closed the door once more, leaving them in a deafening quiet.

“I don’t like you and I don’t give a shit if you like me or not, but stop fucking with shit you know nothing about. You can cause problems. Deaths of a lot of people. You wanna know something, ask me directly. Act like a fucking adult-” Dean growled.

Gabriel huffed a snort and cut him off. “Oh like you? When you hit my brother?” Gabriel hated that he always came back to that, but it was the only real confirmation he had of Dean fucking up that he knew for sure. A flash of regret cross Dean’s moss green eyes as his face stayed the same.

“This song is old Gabe. Now get out. You see I’m a federal agent and all that jazz. I have actual important things to take care of.” Dean went back around his desk and picked up his briefcase and duffel bag before he headed to the door. He turned back to look at the shorter man. “I may have hurt him once, unintentionally, but I’m not the one purposely driving a wedge between you two. You’re doing that all on your own. Cas will eventually be sick of it. He’s over your mother’s bullshit. He’ll get sick of yours if you keep pushing and it's on you, not me” And with that, Dean was out the door.

Gabriel was to scream. He fucking hated Winchester. Mr.Federal Agent. Mr.FBI. Fucking asshole! He rubbed his face in exhaustion and thought about his last conversation with Castiel. His brother wanted space from him. It enraged him to no end. He wanted to blame it all on Winchester. Say it was his fault but it was Gabriel who took Castiel’s phone and knowing it would piss Dean off. He went ahead with it, never giving a second thought to how Castiel would feel. He had hopped Winchester would be dumb enough to think Cas had done it.

Gabriel laughed at himself now. Sitting in Special Agent Dean Winchester’s fucking office with all of the agent’s plaques, medals, and awards glaring at him, laughing at him from behind the large mahogany desk. Gabriel had been so lost to his anger, if not downright jealous of Dean taking his place as Castiel’s caretaker and comfort that he wanted to destroy what they had… destroyed his baby brother’s happiness. Gabe was no better than their mother. Selfish to the point of blindingly not giving a shit about the real consequences of his actions, just wanting his brother to need him again.

Instead Gabriel just pushed Castiel away. All because he didn’t want to accept Dean Winchester. Didn’t want to believe he loved Castiel so much and that just made Gabriel a damn hypocrite. All Cassie had ever wanted was to be accepted, to have attention, to be adored… to be loved. Dean Winchester did all that and more and Gabriel hated that he had to admit it to himself. He hated it beyond words.

He supposed he knew the moment Castiel had ever told him Dean Winchester’s name, that the man would take center stage of Castiel’s life. Fuck! He was exactly like their mother… if not worse.

Gaining a wary look from Dean’s assistant, Gabriel stood from the guest chair and left the agent’s office. He took out his cell phone as he started to exit the building, dialing Balthazar’s number. He would serve Castiel well. Until then, Gabriel would have to figure out how to get back in Castiel’s good graces. Make it up to him and finally accept that Dean Winchester was everything his baby brother had ever wanted and hoped for.


Chapter Text

Castiel didn’t know why he did this to himself. It was almost as if he needed to reinforce the idea of the FBI working hard, putting away criminals. A reminder of what he was certain his husband had part in, even when Castiel himself had no idea what branch or what exactly it was that Dean did as an agent. Dean had been gone for eleven days already and he hated it. His husband had told him he would be gone two or three weeks max, which was the norm for when Dean had to testify at a hearing or anything that had to do with closing the cases he had been involved in.

CNN had always been one of his favorite channels, especially when they held live court trials. He had actually seen his brother in law, Sam, prosecuting a few cases this way. He was like a dog with a bone. For the last two days, Sam had been prosecuting multiple members on a child trafficking ring that had been dismembered but the FBI in Arizona.

As the Federal Prosecutor, Sam Winchester was fascinating to watch in action. He was extremely well versed in the subjects of the case and seemed to absorb all knowledge at his disposal as easily as he took a breath. He never lost his temper. He never was never caught off guard, or he had, it never showed. Sam Winchester was known to be one hell of a prosecutor with over four hundred successful convictions under his belt in five years. He was impressive. Sam dealt only with hard facts and new how to tell the story where all in attendance understood the evidence and the speculation of what happened to bring them to where they were now.

Many nights Castiel found himself sitting to watch his brother in law present these insane cases while munching on fresh buttered popcorn. He recognized the Winchester smirk on Sam’s face when he knew he caught someone in a lie. It was the smirk, although a bit more ‘suggestive’ when Dean would set it on him when Castiel would pretend he didn’t want Dean to just take him and have his way with him.

Castiel had practically been glued to his TV for the last two days, watching Sam execute his case. The case was apparently high profile. Involved four school officials -a principal, two middle school teachers and a counselor- which was unnerving. Castiel had watched Sam tackle more child trafficking case then he would care to admit. However he did feel better knowing that something was being done to put a stop to it. Every day the list of predators against defenseless children seem to constantly grow and were people the young ones were thought to trust in the first place.

He couldn’t help but wonder is Dean worked on cases with children. Maybe drugs? International terrorists? Castiel smirked as he let his imagination once more about his husband’s mysterious and dangerous cases.

Castiel refocused on the proceedings as the defense attorney, some tall man named Gordon Walker cross examined the witness. The show then switched over to the reporters going over the case and gave more information as well as speculations between the specialist dividing the tv screen between the view in court and them.

The case was causing a lot of conflicts with the individuals charged. According to the reporter and specialist, there was a high possibility that they were part of a much bigger organization; a child trafficking ring. The thought of many more trying to kidnap children for god knows what horrific things made Castiel nauseous.

The sound of his doorbell ringing made Castiel jump he had been so invested in the coverage. He hurried down the stairs to the front door. He was having a lazy day in his sweats and staying and eating in the bedroom watching that case. Dean couldn’t know he eat in the bedroom, the husband was not a fan of food in the bed.

The writer pulled open the door to reveal a very hesitate Gabriel. Castiel sighed.

“Hey Cassie” The older brother tried cheerily.

“Gabriel” He greeted in a deadpan tone, which made Gabriel nod and turned completely dejected.

Castiel hadn’t been accepting his calls or responding to any of his texts. It had been over two weeks since Castiel had told him he needed space. Since then Gabriel would only get news about his baby brother through Balthazar who had stepped in as Castiel’s manager. He had been pleased to find out Balthazar and Castiel got along well.

“Sorry for just showing up. I um… I miss you and you won’t take my calls” Gabriel started. Gabriel hated this rift between them. It ate at him how much he had royally failed his brother with misplaced intentions.

Castiel didn’t even know where to start. He was still so damn angry and hurt. Yet, he knew Gabriel would never willingly hurt him. However, his dislike of Dean had to stop!

“You violated my trust. Again pissed off Dean and did something that could have put me in danger, put my marriage in danger-” Castiel started only to be interrupted.

“I know that! I messed up! I didn’t think!” Gabriel volunteered.

“How shocking” Castiel rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms over his chest.

“Ugh! I’m jealous ok!?” Gabriel bark. He was completely embarrassed but he didn’t care anymore. Not talking to his brother for days was eating at him. They had always been close and this was his fault. He needed to own it, and just maybe, Castiel would forgive him. Gabriel could regain some ground again with his baby brother.

Castiel looked at him wide sky blue eyes. “Jealous? Of what? You hate Dean!” What the hell did he mean he was jealous. Gabriel was conspicuous with his lovers yes, but Castiel had never even thought he was interested in men.

Gabriel laughed at his brother incredulous and shocked face. “No Cassie” He was trying to stop laughing, he couldn’t help himself with how Castiel glared at him. “Not jealous as in a want Dean. Look, can I come in so we can talk? Please?”

Castiel sighed and let Gabriel in. They walked into the living room and Gabriel frowned as he watched his brother turn on the tv. “I’m watching Sam prosecuting a case” Was the only explanation he received. Gabriel ignored it in favor of going over what he had planned to say on his way over.

Castiel sat on the sofa and looked at him expectantly. Gabriel took a deep breath. “It took me all this time. Well, with you being so upset with me and not talk to me to make me realize I’m an asshole” Castiel snorted but said nothing and let his brother continue while he watched the tv of the corner of his eye.

“Before Dean came into your life, I was the one you turned to. The one that took care of you, pushed you to work for your dream and loved you? You’ve always been my charge since you could walk. Then here comes Dean Winchester. I think I got scared for you. At first I just didn’t want you to get hurt and when you told me you were Dean’s first guy I just…. I don’t know, in my book he was already a schmuck. I was so sure he was going to just bail on you” Gabriel looked up at Castiel who was looking at him was understanding instead on anger. Gabriel tried a small smile and Castiel’s lips curved up. “The rest well, anything I could find wrong with him I held onto. I wasn’t who you came to anymore, who was taking care of you and I felt useless. I wasn’t thinking right. I forgot that at some point you would make your own life and I never bothered to look at how happy Dean really made you. It was easier to hate him and when the ‘accident’ happen… well I’m not proud of my behavior. I’m-” Gabriel stopped short and his eyes went wide.

“Gabriel? Wants wrong?” The pure look of disbelief and shock came over Gabriel’s features and Castiel reached out to him to see what was wrong with him.

“Dean” Gabriel whispered, looking completely dumbfounded. He was staring to the side of Castiel and the writer turned around to see what the hell had his brother so freaked.

Nothing could have ever prepared him for the sight that greeted him. There, on his TV screen was his husband, dressed in an Arizona county jail orange jumpsuit, in shackles being maneuvered towards the witness stand by a police officer. Dean looked tired and had a full beard but it was clearly him.

“D-Dean?” Castiel murmured in complete disbelief. He was thankful he was sitting when he felt his knees tremble.

Gabriel grabbed the remote and turned up the volume just as Sam, Dean’s own brother was walking towards him and started with questions.


Arizona Maricopa Superior Courtroom.

Everything was in place, the only thing that made Dean crazy was how fucking itchy the orange jumpsuit was. The handcuffs were more or less lax. He had to spend the last three days in jail. At least he had had his own cell and hadn’t to have worry about any idiots looking for a fight.

Sam had of course, immaculately gone over every detail of what was to happen as well as made sure the case gained public attention. Therefore, they had had news reporters with their cameras at the ready. Able O'Connor would die publicly and with it, any traces of him. Dean had to admit that as dangerous and risky this idea was, it was the best way to make sure anyone he had come into contact with as an undercover would think him dead. No one would come looking for him. The possibility of one of those monsters sending a hit man or two to take him out for the damage Dean was quite proud of doing to the child trafficking ring, was high enough to happen. The possibility went straight into fear of Castiel being targeted and Dean would die before he let anything happen to his husband.

Dean sat down in the tiny waiting cell before it was his turn to testify. His actual testimony and deposition as Special Agent Dean Winchester had already been submitted. The Judge had understood because of his delicate situation, this would be accepted as such with both of Dean’s superiors signing off on them.

The plan was actually simple. Dean would get on the stand. Sam would question him. Sam would bring up Dean’s aliases, bring up his plea deal he received in exchange for him testifying against the goons he had worked for and with. Out of the twelve main players, Dean would be testifying against a priest and a school principal. They were both slimy sick bastards in their sixties, getting their socks rocked off by raping boys and girls under fourteen years of age.

Dean took a deep breath, there was no point in getting angry now. Those bastard would never see the light of day again of Sam had anything to say about it and Dean trust his baby brother to do just that.

Dean looked up at the Plexiglas window in the door of his holding cell. He could see only a small part of the courtroom. The two guards stood in front of the door obscuring his view.

Soon, it would all be over. Dean’s career as an undercover specialist done and over with once today ended. Dean would go to the hospital to be checked, he’ll have a wicked bruise. Bullet proof vest on or not, a bullet was no small thing to get hit with. It was well hidden under his eyesore of orange jumpsuit and completely inconspicuous. He would then get to go home to Castiel. Tell him this was his last case. Dean would tell Cas about his new career as an instructor for new agents. Dean would be home every night for dinner. He would be able to go to bed with his husband and wake up every morning with him in his arms. That’s all Dean wanted to think about.

“O’Connor! Let's go” A guard barked as he opened the door and reached for Dean’s arm in one fluid motion.

The guard ushed him through the short hall and then he stepped into the courtroom. The only sounds were the low hushed hum of murmurs. Sam was at his table ignoring him, looking over his notes like he always did with every new face coming to the stand. The guard shoved him not too kindless to step up on the perch. He was asked to swear to tell the whole truth and nothing but before he was instructed by the judge to sit down.

Dean played his part, looking bored and irritated at being surrounded by the ‘law’ as Sam stood and started towards him.

“Mr. O’Connor. You have quite the reputation. A decorated rap sheet longer than my arm and yet, you somehow always managed to get off” Sam started. His voice was direct and to the point. Dean couldn’t help but smirk.

“What can I say, I’m adorable” Dean mussed. Sam hummed and his lip gave a quick twitch.

“Your name is Abel O’Connor, yet you have more alias then most criminals I’ve seen” Sam continued as he picked up a paper from his desk and started to read off the names. “Kane Connell, James Jameson” Sam stopped and looked pointedly at Dean who huffed.

“My favorite drink” Dean replied smoothly.

“Patrick Davies, Jason Teague, Tom Hanniger, Justin Angles, Jake Grey, Dean Winchester?" Sam downright glared at him then. Dean tried not to preen as pride for his baby brother’s acting skills.

“I’m a big fan of your name counselor” Dean retorted and winked for good measure. Sam clenched his jaw and dropped the paper back on the prosecution desk.

“You think its funny using my last name as an alias?” Sam questioned, showing irritation when the judge intervened.

“Counselor, please direct back to the case at hand. He even used my last name. Move on!” Judge Mick Davies growled out.

Sam made a show of composing himself while Dean let his eyes roam the courtroom. It was packed and surprisingly quiet. Reporters lined the back walls with their cameras pointed at him while the reporters themselves took notes. To his far right he saw Priest Adler and Principal Roman. Both were dressed in overly expensive suits, looking like anything but the picture of innocents. They were both glaring at him. Adler was fidgeting in his seat while Roman seemed to have inhabited the stance of a robot.

Dean gave them his best murderous gaze. He had seen them in person doing horrific things to children and he couldn’t wait to open his mouth.

“Mr. O’Connor, you accepted the Federal prosecutor’s office’s plea deal in testifying against Priest Zachariah Adler and St Angel’s Elementary Principal Richard Roman in exchanged for a reduced sentence of five years, correct?” Sam asked.

“Yeah” Dean confirmed.

“I understand that you witness many sexual assaults performed by the two defendants, correct?” Sam quizzed.

“I did” Dean voiced, as he nodded his head once. He shifted his view back and fort between Sam and the two bastards across the way.

“Could you tell the court some of those acts you’ve witnessed?” Sam asked. Dean nodded and couldn’t help the slight nauseous that swirled in his stomach as the memories came back.

“Before Mr. O’Connor proceeds, I would like to warn the court that these events are quite disturbing and graphic” Sam added.

Judge Davies nodded. “Noted” He uttered as he looked towards the camera crews.

Sam motioned for Dean to start as he walked back to his desk to take notes. Dean took a deep breath and recounted the events one by one. He had mainly been a driver to transport ‘merchandise’ for them. Sam had stopped him and asked to explain what the ‘merchandise’ was. Dean clarified it was the children they were trafficking. Sam asked if he knew how the men that worked for Adler and Roman went about obtaining the kids. Dean nodded and informed them of the ‘procedures’ in getting fresh meat. With both of the defendants in positions of authority and regarded as ‘safe’ for children, it hadn’t been hard to coaxed troubled teens as well as innocent kids into following them or responding to being summoned by one either of the defendants.

The kids would willingly get into vehicles of associates of the defendants and no one would be the wiser. Especially when the kids would go in pairs. The horrific nightmares for them would start as soon as Adler and Roman would bring them to one of their many ‘safe houses’ that would change locations every few days. They would be drugged, some beaten depending on their actions, but they would all eventually be brutally raped by both Adler and Roman who took pleasure in the cries and sharing the helpless ‘toys’.

Dean felt sick as he told the things he had seen. The courtroom was filled with shocked and highly disturbed people. Some were parents of the few kids that had been saved. Dean couldn’t imagine how they sat there in tears listening to him going on about the cruel and monstrous situations their little ones had gone through.

“And you did nothing to stop them?” Sam demanded just like any other prosecutor would have. He showed revulsion and anger in his carefully calm demeanor.

“What would you have me do exactly? Say stop! Don’t do that?” Dean countered and acted as indifferent and annoyed as he could. “They would have just shot my ass dead. I was getting paid to transport merch and to keep my mouth shut. Fucking little kids ain’t my deal”

Sam clenched his teeth. Dean was playing his part beautifully. The courtroom was buzzing and the Judge looked on the verge of being sick.

“But your talking now” Sam probed.

“Look counselor” Dean pointedly addressed Sam. “I may be scum-”

Dean didn’t get any further. A fierce pain hit him in his chest as screams could be heard echoing off the walls. His vision filled with black dots. He numbly looked down at himself, there was a bullet hole in the center of his chest.

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The fake blood that had been padded in the bullet proof vest pooled over the orange jumpsuit. Dean placed his hand over it and fuck, if he didn’t know better he would have sworn he really had been fucking shot. He probably had a cracked rib from the impact and would have a hell of a bruise. He looked up just in time to see officers tackling a man in a grey suit.

Well time for his award winning performance. He slid off the seat and let himself fall from the high stepped witness chair and laid on his back on the cold tiled floor. He could hear people running around. Sam and a guard were over him. EMTs rushed in and reached him within minutes. Dean closed his eyes and let the EMTs attend to him. His eyes flew open when he felt one tugging at his jumpsuit. He couldn’t let them see the vest.

He almost laugh when he saw who the EMT was. Dean should have know that Sam would think of everything. FBI buddies, Garth and his partner Chuck were dressed in the blue uniforms as they pretended to work on him. Dean relaxed and closed his eyes. His chest fucking hurt. He would be home with Cas soon. He let himself do nothing but think of that. Sam would handle everything from this point on.




“DEAN!! DEAN!!!” Castiel was screaming and shaking as Gabriel held him completely in shocked at having watched Dean being shot on live TV. “NO!!!” Castiel couldn’t stop screaming. He launched towards the TV hoping he could reach his husband. Gabriel held him back and in an iron grip as he too tried to understand what the fuck they had just seem.

“No! No!” Castiel ripped himself from Gabriel grasp and ran for his phone.

/This is Dean, leave me a voic-/

“No!!” Castiel screamed as he dialed and redialed but only got Dean’s voicemail each time.

He couldn’t breathe. His chest was constricting in on itself. His heart was slamming erratically against his rib cage. Dean… no no no he couldn’t be dead.

“Cassie…” Gabriel whispered and Castiel spun around. Sky blue eyes wild as he looked behind his brother at the TV. A reporter was on screen talking about the shooting.

** “Police have locked down the courthouse after the fatal shooting of Abel O’Connor. O’Connor was testifying in a high profile case about children trafficking and exploitation.” **

The words ‘fatal’ was all Castiel heard as the reporter abruptly turned to show the EMTs transporting the deceased on a gurney, a white sheet over him as a large blood stain covered the top of it.

Castiel’s vision was blurred by tears. This couldn’t be happening. What the fuck had just happened! It was Dean, it was Dean and he was in a jail jumpsuit, in handcuffs and he was shot and Castiel’s mind couldn’t comprehend. He wasn’t able to make a full thought. He was numb and couldn’t stop shivering. Gabriel was next to him trying to touch him but Castiel flinched. This couldn’t be real. Dean couldn’t be dead... No… no no he could accept that he couldn’t… it was a bad dream. He would wake up and Dean would be home and smiling and calling him sweetheart. Everything was going to be ok.

Castiel remembered Dean had told him.


~^~ “I wish I could tell you. Tell you about my job, about what will happen when I go to testify” “Just please, don’t worry. I promise everything will be ok” ~^~


Dean had promised him that everything would be ok… had he known that something like this was going to happened? Had to tried to tell him that he wasn’t coming back? No! No Dean kept his promises…. He wouldn’t have left him knowingly without saying something… the writer was sure of this. Dean wouldn’t just….

Gabriel stared at him with wide pained honey eyes, unsure of how to react in this insane situation.

Castiel’s cell phone vibrated in his hand and he fumbled to answered it. It was an unknown number.

“H-Hello?” Castiel felt numb. His throat was raw from screaming and his chest heaved painfully.

“Hey sweetheart. I should be home tomorrow afternoon” Castiel went completely still and his eyes widened in gleeful shock as he heard Dean’s voice on the other end of the line. He carefully turned to look at the TV where he police and officials of the courthouse were still going over the perimeter and what had happened with the reporter showing the people going in and out of the courthouse.

“D-Dean?” He whispered, too terrified that this was a cruel joke. Gabriel was gawking at Castiel and looking back at the TV looking like a fish bobbing his mouth open and closed in confusion.

“Yeah babe. Is everything ok?” Castiel burst into tears as sheer relief flowed him and he couldn’t woke his voice.

Gabriel snatched the phone from his emotionally ragged brother. “Dean?”

“Gabe?” Dean sounded confused.

Gabriel took a deep breathe as he watched Castiel laugh and tried to calmed down as he sat on the floor. Gabriel pinched the bridge of his nose. To calm down.

“You wanna tell me why the fuck we just saw you get shot! Who the fuck is Abel O’Connor? Are you trying to kill Castiel!?” Gabriel raged.

“What! He saw that! Put him on the phone” Dean was panicked now.

“Are you gon-” Gabe started.

“Put him on the fucking phone Gabe!” Dean count him off. The urgency made Gabriel stop short and handed his now much calmer baby brother the phone.

“Dean?” Castiel sighed in relief as he heard Dean grumble at someone else on the other end of the line.

“Baby I’m ok. I was shot but not like how you think. I swear I will explain everything when I get home. You weren’t supposed to see that” Dean groaned.

“I was just watching Sam. You know I enjoy the court news and…. Then there you are and all those horrible things you said… that's what this case was Dean? Child trafficking? That’s what you were undercover for those nine months? Then you were shot! All that blood and they said you were dead” He couldn’t stop himself too many questions were fighting in his mind and he couldn’t control his mouth from stopping the onslaught. He knew he wasn’t making any sense. His questions all over the place.

“Cas, sweetheart, I’ll be home tomorrow and will explain and answer all of your questions. I promise. I have to go. I love you, I’m ok. I’m so fucking sorry you had to see that baby...I’m sorry” Dean voiced, his voice was strained. Castiel could practically feel his guilt seeping through the phone.

Castiel nodded, forgetting his husband, his alive and love of his life, couldn’t see the motion. “I love you Dean” Was all Castiel could say after several moments of silence. He could still hear someone around Dean fussing about him and he couldn’t help the small smile. Dean was really ok.

“I love you more than anything Cas. You’re my everything. I’ll see you soon.” Dean reminded him while a soft ‘awe’ could be heard from behind Dean.

“Ok Dean”

“Bye sweetheart”


Chapter Text


6 Months Later

Castiel stepped out of his now cold bubble bath and wrapped himself firmly in his mulberry colored house robe. He took his time dressing in jeans and a t-shirt and slipped on his old soot colored slippers before he headed down to the kitchen. The lasagna was sizzling in the oven, it was almost ready. Castiel smiled as it's delicious smell grazed his nose.

Dean would be home any minute now and Castiel couldn’t wait to see his face when he found out they were having lasagna. His husband could practically eat the whole thing by himself.

Castiel made his way into the living room and stopped short as he saw Dean’s boots and sport jacket hanging by the front door. He frowned in confusion. This could only mean that Dean was already home, but where was he?

The writer quickly made his way towards his husband's home office and found the door wide open. Castiel leaned against the door and crossed his arms as he watched his lover hunched over his desk, completely lost in whatever he was reading. Castiel bit his bottom lip when he noticed Dean was wearing his reading glasses. Sexy.

“You must really be enjoying whatever that is if you didn’t even hear me” Castiel mused as he wandered into the room.

Dean’s head shot up. His eyes were wide looking at Castiel with a slight panic. Dean rushed to cover the book he was reading with work files. He gave Castiel a sheepish grin as he sat back.

Castiel arched a brow at his husband’s suspicious action. “Dean? What are you hiding?” He had been meaning to ask Dean for weeks what exactly had him hidden away in the house reading whatever was in his hands but he would never let Castiel see what it was. The writer had let it go at the time. He figured Dean would eventually tell him. But at this moment Castiel was too curious and his patience had run out.

Dean let out a nervous huff and rubbed the back of his neck shyly as he seemed to try to figure out what to tell him.

Castiel came around the desk and promptly straddled his husband’s lap. Dean wrapped his arms around his hips as Castiel caressed his smooth jaw. Wordlessly Castiel moved forward and sealed Dean’s lips with his own. He moaned when Dean deepened the kiss, devouring his mouth slowly and hungrily. Savoring every inch.

Having Dean home was something he was still happily getting used too. After the child trafficking case and Dean being shot on TV, Dean had immediately explained the circumstance to him when he had arrived home. Both Dean and Sam had never thought that he would happen to watch that particular court case on TV. It had been the one stipulation Dean and Sam hadn’t prepared for.

When Dean had walked into the house six month ago, Castiel had jumped in his arms and hadn’t been able to release his husband for hours. The fear and devastation Castiel had felt at the thought of Dean being gone had taken quite a while to dissipate. Dean had simply held him tightly and had repeatedly apologized and murmured his ‘I’m ok, I’m alive’ into his lover’s dark locks.

After the tears and the tremors had finally subsided and Castiel had been able to finally kiss Dean with everything he had. Dean had then proceeded to tell him something he never thought he would hear.

Dean had put in for a retirement of the undercover field and asked for a transfer into a teaching position instead. He would be a high ranked professor that would teach at the FBI academy the skills needed for undercover work. He would be in a classroom instead of the field. Dean would be coming home every single night and wake up with Castiel every morning.

Castiel had been elated. That small rock of tension that had forever lived in the pit of his stomach that liked to grow with fears and insecurities every time Dean would leave for months on a case, suddenly evaporated. It had been liberating and so overwhelmingly soothing Castiel hadn’t been able to stop smiling and pawing at his husband in glee.

The adjustment had been extremely welcomed by both of them. They had finally started to live as an actual married couple. Castiel felt they had a routine already. Dean was a morning lover and tended to wake Castiel up in the most delicious of ways. To start with high flying orgasms first thing in the morning most definitely made the writer walk around with a pep in his step throughout the day.

They rotated on who cooked and who did the dishes. They had decided to have at least one date night a week. Something they had never held onto before, especially with Dean’s job restrictions. They lounged and watched movies together. They sat on the balcony with hot chocolates and cuddled watching the stars until they were either too cold or one was too horny and wanted some loving.

Of course, Dean and Castiel would also argue like every couple. It was usually over silly things like how one folded the towels a certain way or Dean would leave clothes on the floor NEXT to the hamper instead of in it. Or when Castiel would drink all the coffee, finish the creamer and leave none for Dean in his morning haze.

Yet after every fight, it just made Castiel feel all the more happy. It was just a physical and verbal reminder that Dean was home. Dean was still an FBI agent but he didn’t leave for days, weeks, or months anymore. Just regular eight hour days at work and then he was back in Castiel’s arms.

The couple had added regular family dinners on Sunday with Dean’s parents, Sam and Eileen. Gabriel would even attend when he could. Dean had suggested a friends night, which had rapidly become a weekly event with Benny, Charlie, Inias and Meg coming over to play ridiculous games such as ‘Cards Against Humanities’. Sam and Eileen would also come over during game nights. Gabriel tended to make it his mission to be the first one to arrive and eat all of the guacamole Castiel would make.

Castiel had attempted to introduce his parents to Dean after all this time. Yet, his mother found every reason to refuse. Naomi would then aim at giving Castiel lectures and sanctions of guilt, only for the successful author to hang up on her. That was his only black cloud in his life. It hurt and it pained Castiel but he refused to continuously give into someone that didn’t actually care for him. He had Gabriel as family and that was all he really needed from the Novak side.

Castiel pulled away from Dean’s sinful mouth and slid his fingers into his husband’s short tawny colored hair. “Are you going to tell me what you’ve been hiding from me?”

Dean smiled at him. It was bright and beautiful which made Castiel’s heart flutter, every single time. “I don’t know, should I?” Dean teased as he lifted his own hand to caress Castiel’s face. The agent bit his bottom lip. Moss green eyes regarded the writer filled with adoration laced with arousal. Castiel returned his smile and shifted slightly on his lap, enjoying the groan that escaped Dean’s lips.

“I think you should. I might reward you. You know how much I hate secrets” Castiel teased as he started to nibble at Dean’s jaw. His arms were loosely wrapped around Dean’s neck as he worked his mouth leaving tiny kitty lick on his husband’s jaw.

Castiel let out a surprised yelp as Dean gripped his ass firmly and stood. Castiel wrapped his arms tightly around Dean’s shoulders and purred when his strong husband sat him gently on top of the desk. Dean nipped at his lips before he started down Castiel’s neck with fevered desire. Dean’s left hand was teasing Castiel’s nipples over his t-shirt while his right hand lifted and pulled Castiel by the thigh to bring him flushed against him. Castiel could feel his husband’s hard cock, rubbing against his own jean clad one.

Castiel placed his right hand behind him on the desk for support only to touch the very item Dean had been hiding from him under the file. Dean was slowly grinding his hips against his, lost in the friction of it. Castiel had to remind himself to stay focus. He discreetly fished the book from under the file.

He brought the book up while hugging Dean to him as an effort to keep those lips on his neck as well as to keep Dean distracted. When his sky blue eyes landed on the book in his hand, they widened in shock and his whole body went stiff.

Dean quickly noticed the change in the writer and pulled back to look at him, only to find his husband looking at a book in his hand. Castiel’s face was in awe and seemed to be in a daze.

“Cas” Dean whispered, gaining his husband attention at the gentle calling. Bright blue eyes were looking at him with wonder and nervousness.

“When did you start reading them?” Castiel demanded softly as he glanced back at the book in his hand. Vol 10 of The Thursday Chronicles.

Dean smiled and caressed Castiel’s cheek. “I um, I’m really late on the fan wagon, but the series is amazing babe”

“Dean-” Castiel’s throat felt too tight. He hadn’t wanted Dean to read them, at least not yet, or maybe never. The series was a weird version of their lives mixed in with his imagination of a fantasy world. It was also an unusual love letter to Dean himself. Volume 11 of the series was coming out in just a few days and his heart pounded as he realized that Dean would read it too.

“A few weeks ago, Gabe told me if I really did support you in your dream and respected your career as a successful author, I’d be a good husband and read your series you’ve worked so hard on” Dean informed him as he kissed at Castiel’s lips and cheeks between each word. “I was trying to finish them all in secret so I could surprise you about it later.”

Castiel couldn’t find words. Of course Gabriel had something to do with it. Castiel didn’t know if he should feel irritated or elated. Dean was continuing his soft ministrations and he couldn’t help but smile. Dean liked his books. He liked the series. It made everything in Castiel feel as if a blaze of joy had just bloomed and coursed through his body and soul. Everything was in the books; their love, their fights and then through everything, conquering every obstacle.

“So um, I’m a demon prince named Deasun huh?” Dean teased against his ear as he nipped at the lobe. Castiel blushed furiously. Of course Dean figured it out.

Dean snorted at him and kissed him soundly, loosing his hands in Castiel’s dark messy hair. “So should I call you prince Cathaldus?” Dean asked, wiggling his eyebrows. Castiel laughed and pulled his husband against him to seal their lips.