Dean yawned and stretched, popping his back before reaching for his favorite coffee cup: a black novelty mug that read Doctor - Because Badass Alpha Miracle Worker isn’t an Official Title. He snorted and shook his head as he thought back to last Christmas when Sam had given it to him. He’d returned the favor back in May on his little brother’s birthday, giving him one that read World’s OK-est Doctor.
Jo had found the mug to be the “best thing ever” and even though it had been a gift for Sam, it had replaced her #1 Wife mug Sam had gotten her the year they married. He smiled as he placed his mug under the Keurig, thinking about the new mug he’d just ordered Jo for her upcoming birthday, Dr. Winchester at your Cervix. He just knew she was going to love it. Dean popped a Cafe Escapes milk chocolate hot cocoa K-cup in place before hitting the large cup button and waiting for the water to heat.
Dean crossed his arms and leaned back against the island in the middle of his kitchen as he —impatiently— waited for his hot chocolate to brew. He fidgeted with the sleeves of his light blue fleece sweater as he watched the first few drips of the chocolaty brew. Dean breathed in deeply when it started to flow freely, taking in the rich comforting scent of the cocoa. He couldn’t wait for it to finish so he could grab his mug and enjoy his hot treat outside on his porch swing on this perfect fall day. Honestly, Dean couldn’t think of a better way to unwind. Especially not after a long day of seeing numerous patients. Mondays were always the busiest day of the week at the clinic.
He looked up as the cocoa started spitting, letting him know it was finishing up, and stepped forward to remove his cup. He then reached for the bag of toasted coconut marshmallows on the island counter and dropped a handful into the hot chocolate before sealing the bag up and putting it back into the cabinet. Dean wrapped his fingers around the mug and hummed letting the warmth of the glass heat his hands. As he walked through his house to the front door, he smiled and inhaled deeply, the smell of coconut and chocolate making his mouth water. Outside, the cool fall air washed over him, and he knew winter was just around the corner. He suppressed a small sigh as he sank down onto the porch swing, knowing he wouldn’t be able to spend many more evenings like this, enjoying the peace and quiet of the cul-de-sac.
Dean blew into his mug before taking a small sip. He let out a low hum of satisfaction; it tasted like chocolate coconut pie and it was just what he needed after a long day at work. The tension he held in his shoulders bled out and he relaxed back in the swing, using his feet to get it swaying.
The evening was perfect, a gentle breeze was blowing the leaves that had just started to fall. His sweater and drink took the edge off the afternoon’s chill allowing Dean to comfortably enjoy the late afternoon. He enjoyed hearing the laughter of a few neighborhood kids still outside playing down the street at the ball field. Soon he would also be hearing their parents yelling out their back doors to call them in for dinner. Everything was calm and he smiled as he lifted his mug for another sip, turning his head at the sound of an approaching car.
Dean shifted on his swing as he closely watched the unfamiliar car slowly make its way down the street, stopping at the Smith’s house directly across from his. He placed his mug on the small wooden table beside the swing before sitting up. Dean warily eyed the white Hyundai Tucson with Dave’s Taxi Services in bold cursive on the side of the car, his inner Alpha’s hackles rising at the sight of the strange vehicle now parked in front of his neighbor’s house. He knew the Smith’s weren’t home yet, Sally working nights at the hospital and her husband never returned home before eight, and both of them had their own vehicles. He squinted in the dimming light, the sun was quickly setting, to see if he could identify the person in the back seat. There was a man fumbling around in the backseat, leaning forward to pass what he assumed was cash to the driver, before he stumbled out of the car and fell back against the door to shut it.
“Who the fuck,” Dean mumbled to himself as he watched the stranger stand in the middle of the road, looking confused as hell as the car turned around in the Smith’s driveway and drove away.
The man staggered as he surveyed the area. Then, he threw his arms up and looked skyward. The sudden movement had him stumbling backwards, tripping over his own feet, and in a blink of an eye the man was laid out flat on the Smith’s sidewalk.
Dean flinched knowing that hit had to have hurt like hell. The man went down hard. He gnawed on his lip debating on walking over and helping the stranger. The man was clearly intoxicated, and if he was an Alpha, and scented that Dean was also, he had the potential to become violent. The last thing Dean wanted to deal with tonight was a drunk-off-his-ass Alpha wanting to show his dominance, asserting that he didn’t need assistance, especially from another Alpha.
Alcohol brought out the worst in some Alphas and Dean didn’t want to end his peaceful night of relaxation with a brawl in the middle of the street.
So, he decided to wait, to watch and see what happened. Most likely the man would get up and stagger off, hopefully back to where ever the hell he was from. But one thing was for sure, he definitely wasn’t from here. New Harmony was a small town, one where everyone knew everyone, and Dean sure as hell did not know this man.
After a few more minutes of watching what Dean could only describe as the guy doing a very good impression of a turtle stuck on his back, the doctor outweighed the Alpha in him. He had to go make sure the guy was alright. He blew out a deep breath before he pushed up out of the swing and walked down his porch steps.
God, he really hoped this guy was a docile Beta.
Cautiously, Dean made his way across the street, subtly sniffing the air to see if he could determine the man’s secondary gender. All he received was the heavy scent of rum. How much had this man drunk? Dean paused by the stranger, who hadn’t even realized someone had approached him, and took in his features.
The man had a head full of dark, messy hair and a sharp jawline covered in light scruff. His plush lips were pink and chapped, perfectly paired with the bluest eyes Dean had seen in his entire life. The ocean itself would be jealous. He let his gaze trail down the man’s body, still half-flailing on the concrete, but nothing like the rocking he was doing before. He was slowly losing steam and Dean had to admit the man was not what he expected.
Dean could tell the stranger had a good physique, even all tangled in his tan trench coat, his thighs were thick and filled out his slacks perfectly, his dress shirt racked up to reveal a tanned strip of stomach and sharp hip bones… Dean let his eyes rake back up over the man’s chest and he blinked, realizing those gorgeous blues were staring up at him with a look of intense curiosity.
Dean cleared his throat, his cheeks heating up at the fact he’d been caught staring. “Uh,” he started, nearly choking on his spit. This, of course, made the entire situation a hundred times better. He felt himself flush deeper and forced an embarrassed and hopefully welcoming smile. “Did it hurt?” He crossed his arms over his chest, cocking his head to the side. “When you fell.”
The man on the ground blinked once, still owlishly staring up at Dean, though he’d stopped squirming around on the pavement. “From Heaven?” The stranger replied in a deep gravelly voice that had Dean’s inner wolf perking up. He watched as the man struggled to push himself up onto his elbows, succeeding just as Dean was about to offer help, and met Dean’s gaze. His nose scrunched up as he continued, “Do you want my numbe—”
“No,” Dean blurted out, cutting him off. The man jumped at the volume of Dean’s voice and Dean felt slightly ashamed for scaring him. But, really? Did he actually think he was trying to use a cheesy pickup line on him as he lay drunk off his ass on the sidewalk? Dean snorted at the sheer ridiculousness of it as he shook his head.
“No, I’m talking about you stumbling out of the cab and then tripping over your own feet.” He paused and raised an eyebrow, slowly adding, “And for the past ten minutes or so, you have just been laying there.”
“Ohhhhhh,” the stranger drawled out, his perfect plush lips forming a perfect ‘o’ shape before he let himself fall back onto the pavement.
Dean flinched at the sound of the man’s head cracking against the sidewalk. This idiot was going to give himself a concussion. “Are you okay?” He asked as he took a tentative step closer to the stranger.
“Don’t ask stupid questions,” the man groaned as he squinted at Dean. “Do I look okay to you?”
“Honestly?” Dean asked as he surveyed the man.
“No, lie to me,” the stranger deadpanned with a level of sass in his tone only Sam could match, and Dean had to admit that was impressive in his inebriated state.
“Well,” Dean huffed a small laugh and shook his head, “full honesty, you look like hell, man. How much did you have to drink?”
He squinted up at Dean as he replied, “The equivalent of a liquor store.”
“I don’t doubt it,” Dean mumbled under his breath before speaking louder so the man could hear. “Look, I’m a doctor and you fell hard and cracked your head pretty good a minute ago. I’d like to take a look, if that’s okay with you.”
“You’re a doctor?” The man asked warily. “Like a real doctor? Because if you are hinting at role play, I’m really not in the moo—”
“Oh, my God,” Dean stared at him incredulously, “are you serious right now? Look...” He knelt down slowly beside the man, keeping a good distance away as to not spook him or make him violent, and met his eyes. “I’m a real doctor. I just want to make sure you’re not hurt, okay?”
The stranger stared up at him, bright blue eyes meeting his, and Dean could tell he was calculating risk versus reward. His pink tongue darted out, wetting his chapped lips as he leaned his head back to study Dean. The Alpha could practically see the gears turning in the man’s head as he determined if Dean could be trusted. In the moment of silence, Dean took his own turn to study the man before him. He definitely wasn’t an Alpha… a Beta maybe? As Dean was trying to puzzle it out, the stranger suddenly nodded as if he’d made his mind up about Dean.
“Yes,” the man whispered with as much conviction as he could for someone laid out on the sidewalk.
“Alright, good.” Dean nodded back as he stood up and took a step closer holding his hand out for the man to take. “Dean Winchester.”
“What?” He furrowed his brows and sat up without Dean’s help.
“It’s my name, dude.” Dean smirked at the man’s stubbornness and wiggled his fingers. “Now let me help you the rest of the way before you hurt yourself even more.”
“Cast-Castie-Castiel,” the stranger stuttered as his fingers twitched on his thighs.
It was now Dean’s turns to ask, “What?”
“My name,” Castiel replied as he finally reached up and took Dean’s hand, “dude.”
“Well.” Dean snorted at his snarkiness as he closed his hand around Castiel’s and found himself suppressing a shiver at how good it felt to have Castiel’s warm hand in his own. “I’m going to call you ‘Cas’.” He grunted as he hauled him up.
Castiel pitched forward the moment he was on his feet, slamming into Dean’s chest. Dean instinctively wrapped his arms around Castiel as he stumbled back.
“I got ya,” Dean assured as he inhaled deep, steadying them both. The Alpha’s breath caught in his throat as he took in a sweet, floral scent. Castiel smelled of lilies and jasmine, of Omega, all fighting through the pungent haze of rum. It was rich and warm and made Dean’s inner wolf howl at the feel of mate and home in its grasp. It could only mean one thing—
“Son of a bitch,” Dean whispered as he looked down at the drunken Omega in his arms. Castiel was his True Mate. Seriously?!
Dean sighed as he took everything in. Of course this would be how he’d meet his True Mate. He couldn’t have had a meet-cute like his parents had when they’d both presented in high school, or like Sam and Jo had at her mom’s bar after Jo came off her first heat. No, Dean had to meet his True Mate while he was drunk off his ass, rocking and rolling like a goddamn overturned turtle on a neighbor’s sidewalk.
Dean was drawn from his musings by the Omega in his arms staring up at him. Was Castiel talking to him? Shit, Dean hadn’t heard a word his — no, not his — the Omega had said.
Very eloquent, Dean thought as he met Castiel’s eyes and plastered on what he hoped was a reassuring and not a I’m-freaking-the-fuck-out smile.
“I said,” Castiel stared at him suspiciously, “you’re an Alpha.”
“Oh.” Dean blinked and repositioned Castiel’s arm around his shoulder, then moving his arm around the Omega’s waist. “I am,” he agreed with a small laugh. “And you’re an Omega. Is… that a problem?”
“My mother always told me never talk to strangers.” Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Especially if they were Alphas.”
Dean nodded, fighting back another laugh at the serious look on Castiel’s face. He cleared his throat and tried to match the same expression. “Well,” Dean blew out a breath as he met Castiel’s untrusting gaze, “we’ve done introductions, remember? I’m Dean Winchester and you’re Castiel, so not exactly strangers.”
“I gue-” Castiel cut off his sentence mid-word as he glanced down at his feet, suddenly realizing they were moving. His head snapped back up and he planted his feet firmly as he asked, “Where are we going?”
“To my house,” Dean answered, nodding towards the large cape-style home across the street. “That’s where my medical supplies are, and it will be much easier to check you out there than on the sidewalk.”
“Great! Just great!” Castiel snorted and shook his head, stumbling forward again as Dean took another step forward. “I hope you’re happy now, Mom. You and dad…” he trailed off and blew out a frustrated breath, continuing his ranting. “I go out, get drunk, and now I’m going to end up in some strange Alpha’s sex dungeon.”
“What?!” Dean choked out, his voice raising three octaves higher than usual in shock. He cleared his throat roughly before speaking. “I assure you, I don’t have a sex dungeon.”
“Well, I don’t know!” Castiel shrugged. “Sex attic then. Point is, I’m gonna be your sex slave now.”
“No,” Dean shook his head so hard and fast it began to spin, “I don’t have sex rooms of any kind and I’m not going to make you my sex slave.”
Why the hell would Cas think that? Dean glanced over at Castiel whose eyes were trained on the ground. Had he been mistreated in such a way? The very thought, the mere possibility, made Dean’s inner wolf livid.
“Wonderful! Now you’re angry with me.” Castiel laughed low and hollow. “I’m not even going to see the sex dungeon, it’s straight to the murder room for me.”
“Murder room? Jesus fuckin’ Christ.” Dean took a deep breath and blew it out slowly. Where the hell was the Omega coming up with this shit? Hopefully, he had simply watched one too many episodes of Forensic Files. “I don’t have a murder room either.”
“That’s exactly what a sex dungeon, murder room owning Alpha would say,” Castiel mumbled under his breath.
“Cas.” Dean stopped and turned Castiel’s shoulders so he was facing him, hands now on the Omega’s shoulders to keep him from falling. “I’m not mad.”
“I’m drunk, not stupid. I can smell your anger, Dean.” Castiel quirked a brow, and dropped his voice lower, “If that’s even your real name.”
“I promise you, it is,” Dean replied calmly as he tried to soothe his angered inner wolf. The expression on the Omega’s face helped and had Dean biting back a laugh at the ridiculousness of the situation. “And you are right, I was angry. But not at you. I was pissed at the thought of someone doing that to you. I’m a good guy, Cas.” Dean gave the Omega’s shoulders a gentle squeeze. “I just want to make sure you’re not hurt and then help you any way you need, okay?”
At the long pause from the Omega, Dean continued, “Please. I swear you can trust me.”
“Alright.” Castiel nodded slowly as he moved closer to Dean, scenting the air. “When you’re not angry, you smell safe.” Castiel pushed his way into Dean’s personal space and pressed his nose into the Alpha’s throat, drawing a shocked gasp and a slight shiver from him. “You smell really good actually. Like juicy, crisp apples and honeyed maple. Like, like -” he trailed his nose up Dean’s throat snuffling, “- protection, comfort, and-”
“Okay,” Dean cut him off before he could finish, glad when Castiel simply shut his mouth and cocked his head to look at Dean. This was not a conversation to be had while Cas was drunk. Dean took a step back from Castiel, who had plastered himself against the Alpha, and watched as the Omega swayed and tried to follow him.
“Now that we have determined I can be trusted,” Dean said as he wrapped his arm around Castiel’s waist again, flinching hard when the Omega moved to throw his arm over Dean’s shoulder and ended up slapping him in the face instead.
“Sorry, sorry,” Castiel mumbled, slurring his apology as he winced in sympathy and leaned over to try again. Dean was smart enough to duck on Castiel’s second attempt.
“Now,” he side-eyed the Omega with a small smile. “Let’s get you inside and make sure you’re not hurt.”
“What do you want to take the Ibuprofen with, water or juice?” Dean called from the kitchen. After a beat of silence, he peeked over the refrigerator door at the Omega sitting on the couch. “Earth to Cas, water or juice?”
“Oh,” Castiel said as he glanced over his shoulder at Dean. “Either is fine.”
Dean nodded as he grabbed a bottle of coconut water knowing that would help combat the hangover that Castiel was sure to have in the morning. Dean bumped the refrigerator door closed with his shoulder. He tucked a bottle of water under his arm as he washed his hands with the practiced but thorough motions that marked him as a doctor. Dean dried his hands before walking into the living room. The Alpha moved around the couch cracking the top of the water before he sat down beside Castiel, leaving enough space between them that he hoped made the Omega feel comfortable and safe.
“Here.” Dean passed Castiel the water before leaning forward and pulling the first-aid basket towards himself. He pulled out a bottle of Ibuprofen and shook a couple out into his hand and passed them to Castiel as well. “These too.”
“Thank you,” Castiel whispered and gave the Alpha a small smile as he popped the pills in his mouth and washed them down with the coconut water.
“No problem,” Dean replied as he watched as the Omega drank half the bottle before holding it out. Dean took the drink and replaced the lid, setting the bottle on the side table. “So,” the Alpha shifted on the couch to where he was facing Castiel, “are you ready for me to give you a once over so I can make sure you’re not hurt?”
“I don’t think I’m hurt.” Castiel scrunched up his nose in a way Dean found absolutely adorable. Castiel began to move his arms and legs, leaning back to stretch and wiggle on the couch. “I don’t feel hurt.”
“Yeah, well...” Dean had to swallow a laugh as he watched Castiel squirming, trying to access if he has injuries. It reminded him of the turtle impression from earlier. “That’s the thing about being drunk, you don’t feel pain like you would if you were sober. So,” he gave Castiel a gentle look, “can I check you over?”
“Um...” Castiel gnawed at his bottom lip as he stared back at Dean, contemplating. “Yes,” he nodded slowly as he moved closer to the Alpha, “I trust you.” Castiel let out a sharp laugh and shook his head, meeting Dean’s eyes with an amused look as he said, “My mom really would think I’m crazy now, you know.”
“Okay,” Dean nodded and smiled reassuringly, biting back the urge to ask what the deal was with Cas and his mother. Castiel accepted the response and leaned back, turning his head to the side to look around the living room. Dean started again, gaining Castiel’s attention back. “First I’m going to do a neuro check,” Dean explained as he reached for his phone.
“A what?” Castiel asked as his eyes tracked Dean’s movements. “And why do you need a phone? If you’re trying to test my memory, that’s a horrible way to ask for my number.”
Dean snorted and shook his head. “You hit your head at least once that I know of. I want to make sure you don’t have a concussion. And as for why I need my phone...” Dean turned the device in his hand and turned on the flashlight. “I’m going to shine this light in your eyes and make sure your pupils are equally responsive to it. Alright?”
“Okay.” Castiel nodded, immediately flinching and squinting, his eyes practically slamming shut as the light shone on him.
“Cas,” Dean smirked at the Omega, “your eyes have to be open for this to work.”
“If you say so,” Castiel grumbled and forced his eyes back open, holding them comically wide for a moment before reaching up and rubbing at them. “That was a mistake,” he muttered, shaking his head and looking back at Dean, his eyes only slightly squinting as Dean lifted the light again. “Just make it quick. I don’t particularly like the bright like in my face.”
“Yes, Sir!” Dean nodded curtly, trying to keep the humor out of his tone as he checked Castiel’s left eye, followed by his right. “Looks normal,” he said softly as he turned the flashlight off on his phone and sat it back down, smiling in relief as he met Castiel’s eyes. “Both of your pupils are reacting to the light normally, so that's good.”
“Are we done?” Castiel asked hopefully.
“Not quite yet.” Dean shook his head. “Now would be when I’d check your speech, but you’ve been carrying on a conversation with me just fine. Your slurred speech is most likely from you being inebriated...” Dean paused and looked Castiel over thoughtfully. “How much did you have to drink?”
“Ballpark?” Castiel shrugged as he met Dean’s eyes with a glint of mischief in his. “So so much rum.Basically, all of the rum.”
Dean barked out a loud laugh at the unexpected answer. The Omega was snarky and had a dry sense of humor, that was for sure. He was still chuckling when he looked up and saw Castiel had a small satisfied smile on his face. Of course his True Mate would be a total smart ass.
“Oh, I don’t doubt it,” Dean agreed. Just from the last hour watching the Omega and being in his presence, Dean figured he’d probably been cut off at the bar he’d patronized. He shook his head and held out his hands, palm up.
“What?” Castiel asked with a quirked a brow. “What are you doing?”
“Take my hands,” Dean said as he wriggled his fingers.
“Why?” Castiel eyed Dean’s hands like those fingers were snakes, though he raised one of his own and wiggled his fingers in the same way as if that would explain why.
“I want to check your grip strength,” Dean explained, stilling his fingers and waiting patiently for Castiel to consider Dean’s request.
“Okay,” Castiel murmured as he placed his hands in Dean’s and gazed up at the Alpha.
God, he’s got beautiful eyes. I’ve never seen a shade of blue like that before... They’re bright and vast, like the sky, but even that doesn’t do them justice. I could look up every single color of blue on the internet and none of them would match Cas’ eyes...
“What now?” Castiel asked drawing him out of his musings, cocking his head before a smirk spread across his lips. “Or did you just want to hold my hand?”
God, Cas was firecracker.
“No,” Dean huffed and licked his lower lip, hoping his cheeks weren’t betraying him. Castiel didn’t need to know that his joke was close to the truth. “I want you to squeeze my hands, give me all you got.”
“Alright.” The Omega grinned impishly before doing exactly what Dean asked and giving it his all. His nose scrunched up with his effort, his tongue poking out the corner of his mouth.
“Okay, okay, that’s good!” Dean hissed after a few seconds, and when Castiel let go of his hands he opened and closed them a few times to get the feeling back into them. “Damn, you’re strong.”
“I know,” Castiel smirked at him, “did I pass?”
“Cocky lil’ shit,” Dean muttered under his breath with a smile, before saying loud enough for Castiel to hear, “Yes, all good there.”
“Now are we done?” Castiel asked in a tone that reminded Dean of an impatient toddler.
“Almost,” Dean fought the smile that threatened to spread across his lips at the pout on Castiel’s face. A grown drunk man had no business looking that damn cute. “I’m gonna ask you a couple questions now.”
“I might need a drink for this… Do you have any rum?” Dean raised an eyebrow, reaching for the coconut water, and Castiel sighed, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Ask away,” Castiel slurred slightly as he motioned with his hands to continue, almost smacking himself in the face.
“Jesus, Cas, hands in your lap.” Dean flinched, last thing he wanted was for the Omega to bust his nose or lip. He cleared his throat and continued when Castiel was sitting still, hands folded in his lap. “Any nausea or pain?”
“No and no,” Castiel replied nodding his head to each no. “Now we done?”
“God, you’re an inpatient drunk.” Dean commented with a huff. “With the neuro check, yes, I’m done. But now I’d like to examine your head and back for any blood, bruising, or contusions. I’ll know if you have any scrapes or cuts, and I’ll need you to tell me if anything is tender or painful to the touch.” The Alpha met Castiel’s eyes with a serious expression. “If you are okay with that.”
Castiel narrowed his eyes. “Are you trying to get me out of my clothes?” He leaned back as far as he could against the couch, and his eyes blew wide. “You do have a sex dungeon, don’t you?!”
“What?! No!” Dean shook his head, holding up his hands. “I’m not trying… Well, I mean, your trench coat and shirt needs to come off because I can’t check your back with them on but, but that’s it! I don’t have a dungeon, Castiel, I swear. I just want to make sure — I would never — if you really don’t want to, it’s okay. I’m no—”
Dean was cut off by the loud boisterous laughing of the Omega. “I’m fucking with you, Dean.” Castiel wiped the tears from his eyes as he got his fit of giggles under control. “You should have seen the look on your face! So,” Castiel blew out a breath, “what first? Head or back?”
“Head,” Dean replied, clearly flustered as he scooted closer to Castiel. He reached up slowly and began to run his fingers through Castiel’s hair. God, it’s so soft, Dean thought as he continued to card his fingers through the strands, gently feeling Cas’ scalp for any cuts or bumps.
“Ouch, fuck!” Castiel hissed and cursed as Dean ran his fingers over a large knot on the back of his head. “That hurt! I’m telling you that hurt!”
“Sorry,” Dean whispered, soothing as he moved his hand away. “You have one hell of a lump, but good news is I don’t think you’re concussed.”
“Still fuckin’ hurts,” Castiel grumbled as he reached up at prodded at the sore spot, wincing again.
“Don’t,” Dean gently slapped his hand away, earning himself a glare. “Don’t poke at it. That sure as hell won’t make it stop hurting.”
“Fine,” Castiel dropped his hand, still glaring. “So, back now?”
“Yes.” Dean nodded as he watched Castiel slip off his trench coat, his hands reached up clumsily unbuttoning his shirt. Dean’s mouth went instantly dry at the sultry wink the Omega gave him before he slowly, and very ungracefully— probably due to his drunken state— worked the shirt off, dropping it on the floor with his coat.
“How do you want me doc?” Castiel asked, dropping his voice even lower and pairing it with a shit eating grin. Dean swallowed hard, his eyes widening, and Castiel smirked. He leaned back against the couch slowly, trailing his fingers down his chest and abs, over his hip bones peeking deliciously from the top of his slacks, and rolled his hips up as he relaxed into the cushion.
Christ, those hip bones were sinfully sharp.
“Ummm…” Dean cleared his throat willing his brain to come back online. The last thing he needed to say was ‘naked, just like that’. He shook his head, clearing those traitorous thoughts from his brain. “Turn around, back facing me. And try not to fall off the couch.”
“I’m sure you’d catch me if I fell,” Castiel purred as he shifted, hands clutching the arm of the couch to keep his ass from ending up on the floor. “If you wanted to ask me to present…” he said softly, but Dean heard every word.
“Uh, just… just sitting, please,” Dean said quickly knowing that if Castiel got down on all fours, his back dipped and hips up, it would be the end of him. He heard Castiel snort and abort the movement, sitting instead cross legged on the far cushion, back to Dean. Once Castiel got situated he glanced over his shoulder at the Alpha as he fluttered his eyelashes. “Like this, then?”
“Yup, that uh, that works,” Dean replied, as cool and composed as he could. He was determined not to let Castiel know he was getting under his skin. He was in control and he could behave himself professionally, thank you very much. Dean was more than positive the Omega was seeing if he could get a rise out of him, and he would not let Castiel win.
Dean shook his head and focused on his task. He surveyed Castiel’s back, noting his tan skin was littered with superficial cuts and scrapes. It didn’t look like anything was caused from his actual fall, instead they most likely happened when he was squirming on the sidewalk. Since nothing was deep, Dean was confident all he needed to do was clean the wounds and then dress them with a bit of antibacterial cream. Dean reached for the box of antiseptic wipes in his first aid kit, dropping them as he watched Castiel arch his back.
“Oops,” Castiel smirked at him, “I needed to stretch.”
Dean forced a smile as he bent over to pick them up, opening the wipes with shaky hands.
Drunk, flirty fucker.
“This is gonna be cold,” Dean warned before he pressed the wipe to Castiel’s back. The Omega hissed and flinched as Dean ran it over each and every scrape and cut, pulling out a few bits of dirt and gravel. Dean winced quietly in sympathy, something he wasn’t used to; he took care of sick and hurt people on the daily, and while he had compassion for things they were going through, none of it ever made his stomach flip and his heart ache that he was causing them pain -- despite the pain being necessary. Maybe that was the difference between caring about someone’s wellbeing and caring about someone…
Dean took a deep breath, blowing it slowly as he tossed the dirty wipe into the small waste basket by the couch. “Now the cream,” he said softly, squeezing some onto a swab before dotting it on all the wounds.
“Feels good,” Castiel hummed and pressed back against Dean’s hand.
“Doesn’t hurt?” Dean whispered as he massaged the antibacterial cream into the Omega’s skin. His fingers trailed over the last scrape, with a final swipe of the medicine.
“Not at all,” the Omega whispered. Dean nodded and pulled his hand away slowly, wiping the remaining ointment off on one of the spare antiseptic wipes. “You were very gentle,” Castiel carefully turned to face Dean, “thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” Dean replied, flushing slightly at the praise despite the happy Alpha pheromones radiating from him. He looked away, still smiling, and picked up Castiel’s shirt. “Here, you can put this back on now.”
The Omega nodded and took his clothing. After a few misses, he finally got it back on, both arms in the holes they were supposed to be in, and all the buttons done up properly. Once dressed Castiel scooted closer to Dean, subconsciously scenting the air. The Alpha froze where he sat as Castiel leaned in and snuffled at his throat.
“You smell amazing, Dean. Like, like… I can’t put my finger on it.” The Omega breathed in deep once more. “It’s, you are…”
“I need to clean this up!” Dean jumped up from the couch and began gathering his first aid kit, effectively cutting Castiel off. He gave what he hoped was a reassuring smile down at Castiel who was blinking up at him owlishly and confused, most likely from Dean’s sudden movement. He felt a pang of guilt but quickly tamped it down; he didn’t have a choice. He was not starting the conversation about them being True Mates when Castiel was drunk off his ass. He just wished the Omega wasn’t so damn close to figuring it out.
No, it was definitely a conversation to be had when Castiel was sober. So as hard as it was and as much as his inner wolf hated him for it, he needed to put some space between them.
Castiel blinked once more, shaking his head as if he was trying to clear his vision. Dean almost laughed at the innocent confusion that played out on his face. But instead, he turned back around and started shoving things back into the kit.
“O-okay,” Castiel said softly, falling silent, and Dean felt his eyes tracking his movements as he fumbled with every damn roll of tape and tube of cream. “After you are finished then what?”
“Well, I guess we can talk,” Dean replied as he picked up the first aid kit and walked around the back of the couch. “You haven’t given me much to work with to help you out in the morning. Like, what’s your last name? What are you doing here in New Harmony, Indiana? And how did you end up drunk off your ass in front of the house across from mine?”
Castiel raised an eyebrow and Dean half expected some type of comment about the Spanish Inquisition. But, Castiel simply declared, “I can do that,” and sat back to wait for Dean as he disappeared down the hallway.
As soon as Dean entered the bathroom, he dropped the kit onto the sink counter and took a deep breath. What the hell was he doing? ‘Oh, we can talk’ because that’s probably the last thing they should do! Castiel would answer his questions and then what? He would have some of his own. Dean literally just laid out the perfect opening for Castiel to ask him why they smelled so compatible. He gripped the edge of the counter, counting to ten as he tried to compose himself. Then, he wrenched open the cabinet above the sink to put the kit away and stepped back, nodding at his reflection as if that would give him the strength not to climb onto the Omega’s lap right there on the couch.
“Alrighty,” Dean walked back into the living room, clapping his hands together, “how about I get some of those ans—” The words died on his lips as he took in the sight of Castiel asleep on the couch, his head resting on the arm. Dean found himself smiling despite himself and added softly, “Or we can wait until tomorrow.”
He sighed as he walked over to the couch and adjusted the Omega to a more comfortable position, scooting him down where he could lay flat. Then Dean bent down and removed Castiel’s shoes, placed a pillow beneath his head and covered him with the throw blanket that rested across the back of the couch.
After Dean had deemed the Omega safe and comfortable, he went into the spare bedroom to grab himself supplies for a makeshift bed in the recliner. He would have to repeat the neuro checks every so often in the night and coming down the stairs at three in the morning was just asking for trouble. If he were being completely honest with himself, though, the thought of not being in the same room as Castiel made his inner wolf restless.
Dean set a timer on his phone and placed it on the side table before turning off the lamp. Moonlight shone through the bay window behind the couch, and he could just make out Castiel’s form, sleeping peacefully. As he pulled the blankets up to his shoulders, he caught the faint aroma of the Omega’s scent and smiled.
“Night Cas,” he whispered into the quiet of the house.