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Electric Feel

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Dean has had, to put it mildly, a long day.

It had been one customer after another screaming at him, and then he'd finally gotten an order of custom parts in only to find out they sent the wrong damn parts, so the owner of the car he needed them for is probably gonna scream at him too when he calls tomorrow to let them know it'll be another week.

So it's been a long fucking day, and he's irritable and horny and feels like blowing off steam but he's way too tired to go out.

Not that he's having much luck with this either.

He's actually had some interesting conversations through Omegle before, made a couple friends, even, but that's not what he's here for tonight. He finds a couple of alphas that look interested, and it's not that he doesn't enjoy that sometimes, but he knows what he needs right now, and it's not an alpha or even a beta.

He's been searching for an hour and is about ready to close the damn thing and force himself to get dressed and go out when he finds him.

The omega's eyes are wide and almost frantic. His hair is a dark, fluffy mess, and there's a light sheen of sweat on his face. He's obviously naked, though he's lying on his stomach.

Dean leans closer to the screen, gaping.

“You in heat, baby?” he growls finally when his brain catches up with him.

The omega's eyes flutter shut. “Y-yes,” he moans. “Alpha, please...”

Holy shit. Dean knows that sure, sometimes omegas on here will say they're in heat or an alpha will say they're in a rut just because it's hotter to pretend, to make it part of the fantasy. He's never actually seen it happen.

“No mate to take care of you?”

The omega bites his lip and shakes his head, staring at the camera pleadingly. Well, fuck.

“Turn around, baby,” Dean says, shifting back again until his cock is visible on the camera. He strokes it a couple times for show. “Let me see that pretty hole.”

The omega groans and obeys. He's on a bed, it looks like, and there are a couple toys discarded near the pillows. He turns so his ass is in the air, fucking presenting, head down on his arms and looking backwards. There's slick trickling down his thighs already, his skin glistening.

Holy shit.

“So good for me, baby,” Dean says, and the omega shivers and moans. “Such a pretty hole, know that? Bet you taste so good. Wanna see you finger yourself, baby.”

The omega sighs in pleasure as he reaches back and sinks his fingers in, three going in easily already.

“Christ,” Dean pants. “You been fucking yourself on those toys all day, sweetheart? Got yourself all open and ready for a knot?”

“Yes, alpha, please,” the omega moans, shoving himself back on his fingers desperately.

“Take your fingers out.”

The omega whimpers as he does so, but he obeys.

“God, you're beautiful, baby,” Dean groans. “Now lick them clean. Let me see you taste yourself.”

Dean watches hungrily as the omega sucks his slick off his fingers, making heated eyes at the camera, rocking back and forth gently like he's trying to bounce back on a knot. He's starting to pant, and Dean can see the sweat dripping off him now. He needs, and Dean would give anything to be there and be able to fill that need.

At least they've got the next best thing.

“Now I want you to pick up one of those toys. You're gonna fuck yourself for me, okay?”

“Mm, yes, alpha,” the omega moans. He sounds almost drunk with need already.

Dean growls low in his throat, almost possessively, as the omega breaches himself with the toy easily, gasping in pleasure.

Alpha,” he moans. “Please, please.”

Dean groans as he watches the omega thrust the fake knot into himself, slicking his own precome over his cock. His knot is swelling up under his hand, and though that never happens when he gets himself off he can't even bring himself to be surprised because holy fuck is this the hottest thing he's ever watched.

“Look what you're doing to me, baby,” Dean says, relishing the omega's gasp as his glazed eyes focus on the screen again. “All for you, sweetheart. You gonna come on my knot like a good boy?”

“Yes, yes, yes,” the omega sobs, whining as he starts to force the inflatable knot of the toy past his rim.

“Fuck, gonna come,” Dean gasps. “Come for me, baby. Now.”

The omega screams as the knot slips inside him, back arching in climax, and he's the most gorgeous thing Dean has ever seen. Dean groans one last time as he comes over his stomach and hand, massaging his knot with his other hand like the omega's muscles would be doing right now if Dean were really buried inside him.

“Holy shit,” he sighs.

The omega mumbles something unintelligible.

“You feeling better, baby?” Dean slurs.

“Mmhm,” the omega sighs, shifting around until he's lying on his side facing the camera. “Much better.”

“You do this a lot?” Dean asks before he can catch himself.

The omega glares up at the screen sleepily. “I got tired of fucking myself on my toys alone all day. Sue me.”

“How does a pretty little thing like you not have a mate?”

The omega huffs. “Not that I haven't had offers, but I'm not interested in being someone's little pet omega, okay? I have a career that I love, and I worked very hard to get where I am, and I'm not willing to give it up to stay at home. No alpha I've found yet can accept that.”

“Hmm. That's too bad.”

The omega narrows his eyes sharply. “Which part?”

“The – oh, you think – no, if your career is important to you then it's important. It's too bad you haven't found anyone that can handle that.”

The omega sighs in relief and closes his eyes. He smiles tiredly. “Well, thank you,” he says. “It's too bad I haven't met anyone like you in person.”

Dean has no idea what to say to that, so he just shrugs, even though the omega can't see him. He doesn't seem bothered by Dean's lack of response.

He actually looks like he's falling asleep.

“Hey,” Dean says. “Get under the covers before you pass out and get some rest.”

“Yes, alpha,” the omega says sarcastically, but he smiles. “Thank you.”

It's not until they've disconnected and he's closed the window that Dean realizes he didn't think to even get the omega's name.

He shouldn't care. He's never gotten the name of anyone he's messed around with online before. There's no reason he should be feeling so wistful, that he should still feel unsatisfied after getting off that hard, but there's a hollow feeling in his chest that wasn't there when he got home today.

He really should have just gone to that bar.

- - -

Dean is having a long day. Big fucking surprise. Same old bullshit, different cars, different customers to yell at him.

He loves owning his own business, he really does, but sometimes it all just comes to a head and he feels like running away and living in a log cabin in the woods for a while. He knows it'll blow over like it always does and he'll feel back to normal soon enough, but today he's just had enough.

Dinner with Sammy tonight is the only thing he's got to look forward to, but he also really fucking needs to finally get laid. He wouldn't try to pick anyone up while he's out with Sammy, but after, well...

He hasn't tried going on Omegle again since that night two weeks ago. What would he do, click next for hours, just searching for that guy? There's no reason he'd even be on there now that his heat's over. He definitely wouldn't be on there looking for Dean. It would only be awkward if he even found him again anyway, right?

In any case, he's going to go out and get laid tonight, and he's not gonna think about that fluffy hair and those pretty moans while he does it, and that's that.

When he gets to the college campus after work to pick Sam up, his phone buzzes with a new text.

Professor needs some help moving some heavy stuff, it says. I'll be out as soon as I can.

Where? Dean texts back. I'll come help.

After all, Sam's only one guy, and his professor's probably some old fart that won't be able to help without dislocating a hip.

Thanks, Dean. South building, near the front parking lot. If you parked where you usually do you should be able to see it from there. Room 403.

Dean clicks the phone off, slips it into his pocket and locks the Impala. There's a few students left walking around, and a few scent the air and give him appreciative looks as he passes. He doesn't blame them, he's gotta be radiating sexual frustration right now.

When he finds the room, the door is open a crack.

“I'm sorry, Sam,” he hears a voice say. “I didn't think it would be so heavy.”

“S'fine,” he hears Sam pant. “My brother will be here in a minute to help too. We'll have it done in no time.”

“I really appreciate this, Sam.”

That voice sounds...awfully familiar. It sure sounds a lot like the one he's been replaying in his head for two weeks every time he fucks his hand in the shower. Dean must have it worse than he thought if his brain is starting to play tricks on him like this.

Dean pushes the door open and steps in. It's a relatively small room, from what he's seen of the rest of the campus. Sam's bent over the back of a huge couch catching his breath. He grins when he sees Dean.

“Professor Novak, this is my brother, Dean.”

The professor turns around with a polite smile on his face. “It's very nice to m –” His eyes widen as they make eye contact.

Holy shit.

Dean puts a hand out automatically, and the omega – Professor Novak – takes it as if on autopilot. At the contact, Dean's headache fades, and that shitty hollow feeling in his chest starts to lessen immediately.

“Nice to meet you too, Professor.”

“Please, call me Castiel,” he says faintly, blinking dazedly.

“Castiel,” Dean says, trying the name out on his tongue. “I like it.”

“Stop flirting and come help me, jerk,” Sam says, and they finally snap out of their spell.

Dean can feel the blood rushing to his cheeks and he knows he's blushing like a goddamn teenager, but a glance back at Castiel tells him he's not the only one.

He gets his hands under the other end of the couch, and he and Sam lift it on the count of three. They walk it slowly towards the back of the room.

“You would think the delivery men could have moved it the last few feet when they brought it here,” Castiel mumbles.

“What do you need a couch in a classroom for, anyway?” Dean grits out. When he looks up, Castiel is staring at Dean's arms, his mouth slightly open. He looks hypnotized.

“Hm? Oh, um. We're using this room as a meeting place for some of the clubs. Specifically, I sponsor the Omega Alliance for the university.”

“Yeah? What's it – what's it for?”

“People still have a lot of archaic ideas about what it should mean to be an omega,” Castiel says softly, looking down at the carpet in thought. “The Alliance is a place for them – for us – to come together to support each other when it feels like everyone else is against us. Omegas only make up 12% of the student population here, you know. We aren't exactly encouraged to go to college or have careers of our own.”

They finally drop the couch in place. Sam flops down on it dramatically.

“That's fucked up,” Dean says. Castiel looks sad when he looks up at him. Dean walks back over to stand next to him and reaches out to touch his shoulder. “But at least they've got you here to look up to, right?”

Castiel's face goes bright red and he looks down at his feet, at the wall, anywhere but at Dean. It's the most adorable thing Dean's ever seen.

“I, um. I should...the chairs,” he says, reaching out to grab one of the armchairs that's sitting in the center of the room. Dean bites down on his lip to keep from grinning and goes to help him with them. Castiel is actually pretty well-muscled, but fucking hell are the chairs heavy.

They arrange the chairs around the couch, making a cozy little semicircle. Castiel finally looks pleased, and he leads them out of the room and locks it behind him. Sam and Dean follow him as he walks back to his office.

“I'm so hungry,” Sam groans, then looks at Dean with a sudden sly grin. “Hey, Professor Novak, you should come to dinner with us.”

Dean glares back half-heartedly. He should have known Sam would notice how they were acting around each other and decide to torture Dean with it. But...hell, that actually sounds like a great idea to him, too, so he's not gonna argue.

“Just Castiel, please,” Castiel says as they reach his office door and he turns to face them. “We're not in class. And I would love to, but I still have a lot to do here before I can go home. I'll be here very late tonight.”

His eyes are on Dean as he finishes speaking, one eyebrow raised, almost predatory.

“Oh, that sucks,” Sam says, oblivious. “Maybe next time, then. C'mon, Dean, let's go eat.”

“See you later, Cas,” Dean says.

He's very sure Sam doesn't hear Castiel's murmured “I certainly hope so” as they turn to go.

- - -

Three hours later and Dean's not quite as sure of himself. What if he's misreading all of this? What if he's being creepy coming back here like this? Hell, what if he's been gone too long and Castiel has already given up on him and gone home?

He keeps his hands shoved in his pockets as he approaches the building, glancing around nervously. The campus is dark and deserted at this hour, of course, and he feels sort of like he's trespassing, even if he was invited here. Sort of. Maybe.

Before he can try the door to see if it's locked, it swings open and Castiel's grabbing him by the arm and leading him down the hall. Dean almost has to jog to keep up.

When they finally reach Castiel's office, he pulls them inside and has Dean pressed up against the door in an instant.

Then there are soft, hungry lips on Dean's, and he melts. Castiel twines his arms around Dean's neck, and Dean's arms wrap around his waist automatically. Castiel moans into the kiss when Dean pulls him in closer to press their bodies together.

“Fuck, Dean,” he groans when they break apart. “I can't believe...”

“I know,” Dean says, pressing kiss after kiss to his face. “What are the fucking odds?”

“I don't especially care right now,” Castiel says. “Want you, Dean, please.”

Dean moans in response and nips gently at Castiel's neck, grinning into his skin when the omega shivers. He walks them back until they're pressed against Castiel's desk, which is oddly free of papers or...well, anything.

“Cleaned up before I got here, huh? You hopin' for something?”

Castiel fucking growls. “Don't tease me, Dean. Been wet for hours waiting for you. I need it. Need you.”

The words ignite something in Dean, and the next thing he knows he's got Castiel flat on his back on the desk and he's tugging his clothes off, kissing and nipping at every new bit of skin he uncovers. Castiel whines and moans encouragement, tugging on Dean's shirt in silent plea. Dean gets the hint and pulls his clothes off too, tossing them aside.

Castiel runs his hands over Dean's chest like he wants to touch every inch of him. The intoxicating scent of his slick and arousal is overpowering, and Dean can't hold back another second.

He yanks Castiel's legs up in the air. Castiel yelps in surprise, then in pleasure as Dean drops to his knees and gets straight to business, swirling his tongue over Castiel's hole and lapping up the slick.

“God, Dean,” Castiel sobs. “Need more.”

“So impatient,” Dean chides. He slides a finger in anyway, lapping at the rim around it as he stretches the muscle gently.

Castiel moans and writhes as Dean opens him up, and he almost gives Dean a bloody nose a couple of times when he shoves back on Dean's face, but Dean can't say he would really mind as much as he should. He doesn't let up even as he gropes for his clothes, fishing a condom out of his pocket one-handed.

Now, alpha,” Castiel pants.

“So bossy,” Dean growls, wiping his face off with the back of his hand and standing, ripping open the condom and rolling it on before running the head of his cock around Castiel's hole teasingly. “I like it.”

“You'd better,” Castiel laughs breathily. Dean grins and leans in to kiss him as he pushes inside. He savors every moan against his lips as he sinks deeper until he's buried completely inside the omega.

“Fuck,” Castiel groans.

“'m I hurting you?” Dean murmurs.

“No, God no. It's good. So...” he gasps when Dean pulls out a couple inches and thrusts back in. “So much better than I imagined.”

“Oh yeah? You been imagining this a lot?” Dean begins to thrust slowly, letting Castiel's muscles get used to the intrusion.

“God, yes, ever since...hated myself for not getting your name,” Castiel groans.

“Me too, baby,” Dean whispers. He kisses Castiel hard as he picks up speed, harder and faster until Castiel is whimpering with pleasure and clawing at the edge of the table.

He bites down gently on the side of Castiel's neck.

“Yes, yes, do it,” Castiel pants.

“Not – fuck. Not like this,” Dean moans, feeling his knot begin to catch at Castiel's rim. “Gonna do it right.”

Castiel laughs again. “Fucking – ah, fuck – old-fashioned alpha.”

Beautiful omega,” Dean counters. Castiel's hands cup the back of Dean's neck, and he pulls him in for another kiss, though they're both too out of breath to hold it for long.

“Gonna come on my knot for real this time, baby?”

Castiel whines and nods frantically.

Dean forces himself to keep his eyes open when they want to squeeze shut, wants to see the look on Castiel's face when he takes his knot for the first time.

Castiel is flushed red from his face down to his chest, head thrown back. He's fucking gorgeous.

“Yes, yes, yes, Dean, yes,” he chants breathlessly.

Dean damn near howls when he finally shoves his knot in and Castiel's muscles tighten down on it. Castiel's eyes snap open, his mouth dropping open, and he holds his breath for a full second before he's wailing, coming stripes over his belly and chest. His clenching hole practically rips the orgasm from Dean. He shudders and moans helplessly, hips twitching and jerking forward with every wave of pleasure.

He's literally seeing stars. His ears are ringing and he's seeing stars and holy shit, he'd better not pass out right now because he'd hurt Castiel if he did. So he lays his head on Castiel's chest and pants, closing his eyes, waiting for his pulse to slow down as he listens to Castiel's do the same.

“Wow,” Castiel finally whispers. And for some reason that's the funniest thing Dean's ever heard, and he's laughing hysterically with his face pressed into Castiel's skin. Castiel huffs in amusement and runs his fingers through Dean's hair gently.

“Well, now what?” Dean says when he catches his breath.

Castiel's hand stills. “Well, I...we could go on a date first, if you want to. I meant what I said, though, and the sooner you claim me, the sooner I can start the paperwork I'll need to turn in to the university. And we should probably tell Sam sooner rather than later.”

Dean can't help laughing again. “You dork,” he says. “I meant right now. As in, my knot's not gonna go down for at least 20 minutes and this isn't the most comfortable way to wait it out.”

“Oh,” Castiel says quietly. “Yes, that, um. That too.”

Dean props himself up on his hands, arms on either side of Castiel's head, and grins down at him. Castiel smiles at him so fucking affectionately that Dean thinks his heart might just burst.

Instead, he leans in to kiss him softly, savoring the feeling now that they're no longer frantic.

“Can't believe,” he says between kisses. “I'm gonna be mated to a sexy professor. Like every hot librarian fantasy I ever had growin' up come true.”

Castiel looks up into his eyes searchingly, brow furrowed. “You really meant what you said before? That my career won't be a problem?”

“Cas, you're incredible. I'm gonna be proud as hell to be mated to you. I'll be cheering you on and baking brownies for your club meetings and everything.” He nuzzles into the side of Castiel's neck. “I'm on your side, Cas.”

Castiel sighs happily and goes back to stroking Dean's hair, and he's gotta stop that or Dean's gonna fall asleep on him, knotted standing up or not.

When Dean's knot finally goes down, they get dressed in a comfortable silence. They walk outside together, shoulders bumping, occasionally glancing at each other and grinning.

It's cool outside, the sky clear and dark and peppered with stars. Dean breathes in the crisp air and he wants to laugh again because the night has never been so beautiful and he has never been this happy before.

Castiel yawns next to him.

“So do you wanna come meet my bed?” Dean says, grinning. “It's memory foam.”

“Mm,” Castiel says with a sleepy smile. “It would be impolite not to. I'm sure I'll be seeing a lot of it.”

“Damn straight,” Dean says, and he takes Castiel's hand and leads him to the Impala.

“By the way,” he says as he starts the car. “What would you have done if one of your students had found you on Omegle instead of me?”

Castiel's eyes widen and his face drains of color. The look of horror on his face has Dean laughing the whole way home.