Show You How to Walk the Dog: Dean/Castiel, Castiel/OMD, Dean/Castiel/OMD (Part 2)
Part 1
Part 2
Castiel tries so hard to be good.
He’s not sure how good it is that he lasts about two hours before he excuses himself to his room and locks the door. It’s probably not so good that he lasts another two seconds before he’s pulling Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers out of his bag and stuffing them in his mouth, his dick throbbing and his hole an empty, wet ache. He’d wiped off the worst of it but he knows he still has some of Zepp’s come inside him, can feel it when he bears down and pushes.
He gets himself off twice more, face-down in his stolen underwear that stink of dog spunk and his own jizz and just the faintest, tantalizing trace of Mr. Winchester. And God, the things Castiel thinks of, things he can’t stop from flooding into his mind as he sinks three fingers inside himself. He fucks himself at the awkward angle, hooking and pulling on his rim, trying to coat his fingers with any residual come he can get to. He’d never imagined feeling so full, the way Zepp’s knot has locked inside him and stretched him so huge.
Castiel thrusts his hips back, trying to imitate Zepp’s brutal pace, panting against the come-soaked boxers while he pictures that fat knot swelling inside him, pictures huge, swollen cocks pounding into him, Zepp and Mr. Winchester taking turns with him, fuck, both of them using him at once. Castiel gasps, his dick coming almost dry as he imagines Zepp on one end of him and Mr. Winchester on the other, knots in his mouth and his ass and come leaking from every hole in his body.
Castiel falls asleep with Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers under his pillow.
~
He makes it one whole day without watching the dog video again, not that he hasn’t thought about it on repeat every single second of the day. It can’t hurt to watch a movie, it’ll just get it out of his system before he goes to walk Zepp.
He doesn’t touch Zepp the next day, not aside from his usual pets and scratches. He’s mortified when Zepp immediately starts nosing at his ass, snuffling through the fabric of Castiel’s jeans. Castiel shoos him off, which Zepp takes as an invitation to start humping his leg. He wills himself to look away from the red head of his dick poking out from its sheath.
He can’t do it again. Mr. Winchester is giving him another chance and Castiel is not going to fuck it up.
The next day isn’t so bad. Zepp still noses at him and jumps up a few times to start humping, but he calms down after an extra-long walk. It’s not like Castiel doesn’t immediately go home and hump himself to two unsatisfying orgasms thinking about his new favorite obsession, but it’s just that. A fantasy.
The weekend comes and Castiel feels the same letdown he always feels on a Friday. No Zepp for two days, no huge, beautiful apartment to sit in and do his homework, no smell of Mr. Winchester all around him. He spends the afternoon cuddling Zepp, curling up with him on his dog bed. If he ignores the feeling of Zepp humping against him, of his dick starting to protrude and press insistently against him, it’s just because he can’t bring himself to scold Zepp for doing something that must seem natural. It’s not like Zepp knows how fucked up Castiel is.
He gets home at 6:30 with a heavy heart. Maybe it’s better that he’s away from Zepp for a while. It’s like torture to be so close to him. Castiel slinks home and lets the noise and confusion of his family subsume him for a while. At least it’s hard to hear yourself think when your brothers won’t stop challenging each other to arm wrestling matches and your sisters are shrieking over who cheated at hockey.
He doesn’t recognize his phone alert the first time it goes off. Castiel has friends but he knows most of them are out for the night, seeing a movie and getting burgers and other things Castiel just isn’t in the mood for. He drags himself off the couch and rolls his eyes at an indulgent look from his mother. She’s always subtly encouraging him to “blossom,” although she’s less encouraging when he replies that he’d blossom a lot better if he had an iphone like everyone else instead of his shitty cheap flip phone. He rolls his eyes and pointedly flips it open.
His heart stops when he looks at the name. It’s Mr. Winchester.
His hands shake as he brings his phone into the bathroom and closes the door, not sure what to expect. I’ve contacted social services. The police are on their way. Don’t come back.
Castiel flips his phone open and takes a deep breath. He deserves whatever he gets. He’s a criminal, worse, he’s an animal abuser.
Hey Cas. I have an emergency project this weekend. Any chance you could come tomorrow afternoon and spend the night?
Gabriel is always threatening to drug Castiel’s cereal or some asshole move like that. It’s the easiest explanation Castiel can come up with for this remarkably real hallucination.
His phone beeps again as he’s holding it and it’s shock and shock alone that keeps him from dropping it in the toilet.
I’ll pay you $20/hour and leave some cash for you to order dinner. I’d hate to leave Zepp at the kennel overnite.
Castiel chews on his lip. Zepp would be so scared in a kennel, even if it’s one of the really fancy ones with a pool and stuff. Mr. Winchester takes such good care of Zepp.
He probably takes such good care of his omegas too.
Castiel ignores the dull ache in his omega briefs as he writes back to Mr. Winchester. Of course he’ll do it.
~
His parents take some convincing, but Castiel has a surprising ally in Anna.
“I don’t know, Castiel.” His father steeples his hands on the kitchen table. “Spending the night in some alpha’s house…”
“I’ve seen him around, you know.” Anna rummages through the pantry, frowning at the empty box of cereal bars that Gabe will absolutely deny leaving there.
“He’s really handsome.” She pushes aside some cans and smiles as she finds a half-crumpled sleeve of graham crackers. Their father looks less impressed.
“And so is that other alpha, the one he’s always running with?” She gives Castiel a pointed look.
“They seem pretty, you know,” Anna raises an eyebrow at their dad. “Friendly?”
“Oh, yeah, that must be his friend.” Castiel races to come up with a name. “His friend Sam, they, uh, they seem to spend a lot of time together.”
Castiel winces a little. Sam is Mr. Winchester’s brother, and he’s married to a pretty beta girl with blonde hair. Mr. Winchester has a picture of them on his mantle.
“I see.” Their father nods, a small smile on his lips.
“Well I think it’s great for you kids to be exposed to all kinds of families.”
Anna rolls her eyes behind his back.
“Well you have a nice night with that pup, ok?”
Once their father leaves Anna grabs his arm, one eyebrow arching up.
“I don’t care what you’re actually doing tonight, but you owe me.”
“I’m not-“
“Whatever, kiddo. Just have fun and don’t, like, get arrested?” She ruffles Castiel’s hair.
“And for fuck’s sake, don’t get knocked up, ok?”
Castiel just gives her a horrified look as she shrugs.
He can’t wait to get out of his house.
~
Saturday afternoon comes on like molasses, with Castiel watching every minute tick by. He finishes all his homework, and his chores, and even willingly does some of Anna’s chores just to get her off his back and keep himself from going insane.
He arrives at Mr. Winchester’s house at two o’clock on the dot. He leaves his stuff by the door and takes Zepp right out. They spend a good two hours playing in the dog park, and they’re both hot by the time they make it back to the apartment.
Castiel fills Zepp’s bowl with fresh water. The air conditioning blasts over him as he tries to busy himself straightening up Zepp’s toys and watching some TV. Mr. Winchester gets channels that Castiel didn’t even know existed, but nothing catches Castiel’s eye.
He can’t stop thinking about sleeping in Mr. Winchester’s bed.
Mr. Winchester’s note had been clear that there were clean sheets on the bed and fresh towels in his bathroom. Castiel had assumed he’d be sleeping on the couch. Maybe those stereotypes about alphas being territorial of their private spaces weren’t always true.
Mr. Winchester’s bathroom is as immaculate as always. Castiel washes his face in the sink, careful to only use a tiny drop of the fancy soap that sits next to the sink. It smells like oranges, if the oranges cost more than his parents car and came in a crate of endangered wood. Everything about Mr. Winchester smells so good.
Castiel pats his face dry on a towel, closing his eyes as he rubs the soft cotton against his face. It doesn’t feel scratchy or worn-down like the towels in his house. Even the faint scent of the detergent Mr. Winchester uses is nice, fresh and clean without the bleach aftertaste of his mother’s store-brand powder.
He glances through the bathroom doorway, looking at the large bed with its crisp gray sheets and overstuffed pillows. It can’t hurt to touch it. He’s supposed to sleep on it, after all. Better to get it over with.
The scent of Mr. Winchester is even stronger in the bedroom, lingering over the crisp smell of freshly-changed sheets. He wishes Mr. Winchester had left the dirty ones on. Castiel wants to smell everything. He shouldn’t open Mr. Winchester’s closet but he won’t touch anything, he just needs to see if the dirty sheets are at the top of his hamper. They have to be.
He hears Zepp trot into the bedroom as he slides open the closet door. He shouldn’t do this. He takes a deep breath, determined to close the door and stop being so pathetic.
Then he smells it.
Mr. Winchester’s scent is always thick inside his closet, but Castiel’s never smelled anything close to this before. He stumbles in, heading straight for the hamper like his nose is leading his whole body.
The dirty sheets are there. They’re crumpled up, slightly overflowing the frame of the hamper. They’re a pale gray pinstripe, light as a cloud everywhere except for the darker spot that Castiel can’t stop himself from touching. He curls his fingers into it, his mouth falling open at the stiffness.
This is what Castiel’s sheets usually feel like when he stuffs them into the washer.
He pulls them out before he can think about it. It’s a top sheet, soft everywhere he touches it until he drags his fingers over the matted stain in the middle. He brings it up his nose, lips trembling.
It’s come.
Castiel licks his lips, glancing back through the closet door. Zepp sits on the floor, head lolling to the side, completely unaware that Castiel is close to losing his mind. He has to stop. Now. Just the scent of it is making a thousand filthy thoughts race through Castiel’s mind and he won’t give in again, he can’t.
He looks back in the hamper, ready to stuff the sheet back in. He could have, really, he knows he could have stopped himself.
Then he sees the alpha boxers.
They’re laid flat beneath the sheet, crotch facing up. They’re ruined. The white fabric is stained all over with that pearlsheen shine, slightly darker and flooding Castiel’s senses. He’s never smelled alpha come this close, aside from his brother’s nasty piles of laundry in the basement.
Castiel buries his face in them and groans.
He’s hot all over, face flushing red as he breathes in deeply. It’s everything Mr. Winchester should smell like, earthy and strong, a little bitter and it all makes him leak wet in two seconds flat. He’d flush with shame if he could get any redder, because he’s smelled Mr. Winchester’s dirty underwear before and it’s never, ever come close to this.
Castiel looks back at Zepp, feeling his stomach drop out with need. He has to, God, he fucking needs it, needs anything. This is torture. He’s here all night, he’ll clean up good and it’ll be the last time, he’ll quit on Monday.
He staggers out, the alpha boxers bunched in one hand while the shoves his pants off with the other. Zepp surges up eagerly, his tail wagging and his ears pricking.
Castiel gets on all fours, stumbling towards Zepp. He shoves Mr. Winchester’s underwear into his mouth, letting his spit soak into it as he reaches behind himself and sinks two fingers into his hole. He’s leaking slick everywhere, rivulets of it streaking down the small hill of his balls, running all over his fingers. His body barely feels like his own, something like a heat but he knows that’s not it.
He needs to get bred.
He draws his fingers out and sticks them under Zepp’s nose. He licks at them eagerly, long tongue snaking around Castiel’s fingers as he starts to get hard. Castiel does it a few more times, impatiently fucking himself back onto four of his clenched fingers before feeding it back to Zepp.
Zepp’s cock is all the way out as he turns around to present himself. He knows he should open himself up more but he’ll take it, he’ll take the pain, take anything to get that knot inside him where he fucking needs it. Zepp huffs and whines as he gets up on Castiel’s back, nails scratching at him.
All Castiel can feel is the hot press of Zepp’s dick against his hole.
He’s drooling on Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers as he reaches back to guide Zepp home. Everything smells like Mr. Winchester, fuck, like Dean’s come as Castiel urges the throbbing, tapered head of Zepp’s cock into him.
He cries out as Zepp fucks into him, hips arching forward to sink home immediately. It knocks the wind out of him, stuffing him full all at once and he barely notices he’s moaning for it.
He shifts down onto his elbows, legs spread, heavy dog pressed against his back as his cock jackhammers in and out. It hurts and he wants more of it with every manic thrust of that big doggy dick into him.
“Fuck, Zepp, that’s it.” It all sounds like nonsense around his mouthful of come-stained alpha boxers but Castiel doesn’t need to make sense right now, doesn’t even need to be human. He needs that fat dog knot pumping him full of come, fucking him cross-eyed until he can’t think about Dean any more.
“G’boy, come on.” Castiel shakes each time Zepp slams home. His cock slaps up against his belly, rock hard and leaking precome. Castiel only has to stroke himself a few times before he’s coming. His small omega load spills onto the floor beneath him.
“C’mon Zepp, fucking do it.” Castiel arches his back, grunting as he feels Zepp’s cock get thicker and thicker with each thrust. He’s gonna knot soon, Castiel can feel it, all of his senses narrowed down to the smell of Mr. Winchester and that rough ache in his hole.
Castiel’s scream is muffled by the underwear in his mouth as Zepp’s knot pops in, caught inside him. A warm rush of come floods inside him, a fresh burst with each twitch of Zepp on top of him. Castiel’s hole clenches back, his body taking over and milking as much of it as he can out of the Zepp’s tight balls and his fat, hot dick and it’s all so fucked up.
Castiel’s worse than one of those omegas. He doesn’t just need it, he loves it. His body shakes and shudders, pleasure rumbling through him as Zepp pumps him full. He’s a fucking slut for this, he’d get fucked like this every night if he could.
“Knot me, knot me, fucking breed me Zepp,” Castiel whines, giving in and letting himself beg like he wants to.
“Get that fat doggy dick deep inside, fuck.”
He’s barely caught his breath when Zepp turns around, bringing them back to back. Sweat drips from his forehead. Castiel tugs his t-shirt over his head, wincing as he feels the pull of Zepp’s knot on his hole. They’re stuck tight. Careful to place Mr. Winchester’s underwear close to him, Castiel groans and starts to mop his face off.
His eyes are closed when he hears the door click shut.
“Hi there, Cas.”
Castiel scrambles, panic flooding him. No. No no no no.
“Shhh, hey, hey.” Mr. Winchester shakes his head. “Don’t move, you’ll hurt him.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
Zepp whines, his excitement at seeing his owner evident.
“Looks like you’re having some fun, huh, boy?” Mr. Winchester says to Zepp. He crosses the room in a few confident strides before kneeling down to scratch at Zepp’s ear.
Castiel is frozen. Squeezing his eyes shut seems like the best idea. He can feel tears welling up, his throat closing.
“I had to see it for myself.”
Mr. Winchester settles down on the floor, cross-legged. Why won’t he just leave and let Castiel die in peace?
“You know, I suspected and everything, but that’s a hell of a thing to really believe, you know, Cas?”
Castiel blinks up at him, lip trembling.
“Come home to find you stinking like you just got fucked in my kitchen is one thing.” Mr. Winchester taps his fingers together.
“But my dog?” He shakes his head.
“I’m sor-” Castiel can’t even get the word out before he starts crying.
“No, Cas, don’t cry.” Mr. Winchester slides closer to him, picking Castiel’s t-shirt up and wiping at his face.
“I’m sorry I scared you but I just,” Mr. Winchester sighs, a long breath coming out through his pursed lips.
“It’s not the kind of thing I could just ask you.” He pulls out his phone.
“See, they have these new home security systems now, they’re real small.” He nods over to a small white box on his dresser. Castiel hadn’t even noticed it.
“I just had to see.” He taps the screen of his phone. A crisp picture of his bedroom appears, with all three of them on the floor. Castiel winces.
“Mr. Winchester, I,” Castiel gulps, his own body betraying him and flexing around Zepp’s knot.
“I’m so sorry and it won’t happen again, I promise, I promise, and I’ll leave as soon as, as soon as,” Castiel breaks off, helpless while he’s tied off on Zepp. His arms shake with the effort of holding himself up. He can’t look at Mr. Winchester, not when he’s like this. His eyes dart back to the phone, to the image of himself ass-up in the air with a panting dog locked behind him. Seeing the evidence of what a disgusting freak he is makes him blanche. Evidence.
“Oh God Mr. Winchester please don’t call the cops, or, or,” Castiel hiccups, the worst possibility playing out in his mind.
“Please don’t tell my parents.”
“You’re not in any trouble, Cas.”
Castiel flinches as he feels Mr. Winchester’s hand under his chin, big and warm. He tilts Castiel’s head up until he has to look at him.
“I’m not gonna tell the cops,” he says, looking right into Castiel’s teary eyes.
“And I’m sure as shit not gonna tell your parents.”
Castiel whimpers with relief.
“But I can’t keep doing this, Cas.”
He swipes his thumb over Castiel’s cheek, catching a stray tear.
“I can’t keep coming home every day and smelling that sweet goddamned scent of yours everywhere.”
Castiel blinks, his vision clearing. Mr. Winchester’s looking at him so intently it makes Castiel squirm.
“I can’t keep looking at that perfect little body of yours and those big eyes and that fucking mouth.”
Castiel’s lips tremble as Mr. Winchester’s thumb swipes over his lower lip, rubbing back and forth before pressing down in the middle.
“I can’t keep stripping my dick every night thinking about how fucking hot you’d look hanging off my knot, Christ, what that gorgeous little ass would look like getting pounded by my fucking dog.”
Castiel’s hole clenches down, hard enough to make Zepp buck back a little.
“You’re not … you’re not mad?” Castiel whispers, desperate to keep Mr. Winchester’s thumb on his mouth.
“No.” Mr. Winchester shakes his head. He draws his thumb back and Castiel chases after it on instinct.
“Jesus, Cas.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Look, you can leave once Zepp’s done. You can walk out, and you can go on with your life. I’m sure I can find you another pet sitting gig if you need the cash. I’m not … I don’t want to make you do anything.”
Castiel’s tears well up again at the thought of leaving.
“Please don’t make me leave.” His voice sounds small. Mr. Winchester sighs, sounding distressed.
“You’re so fucking young. And this is…” He waves his had at Zepp, still firmly lodged inside Castiel.
“This is some fucked up shit, Cas.”
“I know it is.” Castiel steels himself. Being honest can’t possibly be worse than being kicked out of Mr. Winchester’s life, of losing him and Zepp.
“I know it’s fucked up but I,” Castiel takes a deep breath.
“I like it.”
He watches the way Mr. Winchester’s eyes widen.
“I like it a lot. I didn’t … it’s not like I’ve ever done it before but, just, you don’t know what it’s like, coming here and smelling you everywhere and … I know it’s bad but I love the way it feels when he, when Zepp,” Castiel stops to catch his breath.
“You like having his knot in you?” Mr. Winchester leans in closer, his broad shoulders sloping down.
“Yes.” Castiel’s voice cracks before he can continue.
“I didn’t force him to do it, I swear, I’d never hurt Zepp, God, I just did it ‘cause I can’t, I just.” He swallows, his throat ragged.
“I wanted it to be you.”
He looks up at Mr. Winchester, knowing he’s ruined everything and not caring. He’s ugly and open and gross and so ashamed he can’t care about himself anymore. He closes his eyes, waiting for the final blow.
“Cas.” Mr. Winchester’s voice is a deep growl. Castiel peels an eye open and sees Mr. Winchester’s big palm splayed over his crotch, the heel of his hand grinding down.
“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” There’s a warning tone in his voice, deep and commanding and fuck, Castiel’s getting hard again.
“Please, Mr. Winchester.”
It’s instinct that guides his hand out to grab Mr. Winchester’s wrist, to pull his hand in close and slowly suck his thumb into his mouth. Where it belongs.
“Oh, fuck, Cas.”
Mr. Winchester works his thumb in and out of Castiel’s mouth, slowly, each whorl of his fingerprint dragging over Castiel’s tongue. He tastes salty and hot. Castiel whines in his throat.
“You take my knot, you’re gonna say my name, you understand me?”
A small trail of spit follows Mr. Winchester’s thumb, Dean’s thumb, as he pulls back, rearing up onto his knees. His slacks stretch taut over his cock and Castiel’s mouth waters all over again.
“Yes, Dean.”
“That’s right.” Dean nods and catches Castiel’s face in both hands, running his fingers into Castiel’s hair.
“Christ, I’m getting fucking hard just looking at you.” Dean tightens his fingers, making Castiel moan and arch up into his touch.
“Get him out of you.” He jerks his chin at Zepp.
“Push him out, come on, you can do it,” he urges, freeing one hand from Castiel’s hair to stroke down his side.
“It’s my turn.”
Castiel tenses with effort, grunting as he forces Zepp’s knot out. It hurts and it’s followed by the most humiliating wet pop he’s ever heard. Zepp huffs and slinks away after one look from Dean.
“Jesus fuck,” Dean curses, hauling him up into his lap the second Zepp’s out of him. His hands smooth down Castiel’s back, like he can’t decide where to touch first.
“You’re such a fucking mess down there.” Fingers curve down the arch of Castiel’s ass to find his hole, dipping inside.
“All that fucking come inside you,” Dean fucks his fingers in and out, slow, teasing. “Zepp filled you up good, didn’t he?”
Castiel squirms, feeling a fat rush of come seep out of him as Dean tugs at his hole. He’s gonna ruin Dean’s pants and he’s so dirty. He buries his face in Dean’s neck.
“You have any idea how fucking hot that is?”
Castiel stills, his heart thudding in his chest.
“Jesus, Cas, I’ve had whores turn down a whole lot of money ‘cause they didn’t want to do shit like that with Zepp.”
“But you.” Dean rakes a hand into his hair, pulling him back to look Dean in the eye.
“You love it, don’t you?”
Castiel just nods, basking in the look Dean’s giving him. Eyes wide and so green, every inch of his handsome face shining at Castiel. Like he’s something special.
“You ever take an alpha’s knot before, Cas?” Dean moves Castiel aside so he can undo his slacks. Castiel watches, rapt, as he undoes his belt, pops his button open, as he slides the zipper down, pulling his fly open. Castiel reaches down to trace over the outline of his cock, hard and huge pressing against the pouch of his alpha boxers.
“No,” Castiel whispers, suddenly bashful. What if he’s not any good?
“God, you really are perfect, aren’t you?”
Dean guides him by the hips to straddle him, Castiel’s legs splaying skinny around Dean’s sides. There’s only thin cotton separating him from Dean’s cock. Castiel grinds against it, letting the heat seep into him.
“You ever been kissed?”
Castiel blushes deeper. He knows that one stolen smack on the lips from another omega behind the bleachers doesn’t really count.
“Not really.”
“Good.” Dean flattens his palm on the small of Castiel’s back, guiding him to grind his hips down at a slow, maddening pace. His other hand closes over the back of Castiel’s neck, squeezing softly.
Dean’s lips are soft. They press against Castiel’s, plush and warm and insistent. He shivers when Dean slips his tongue between them, sliding over Castiel’s teeth to part them and dart inside. Castiel does his best to imitate him and before long Dean’s moaning in satisfaction.
“Sweet little mouth,” Dean whispers between kisses. His hand massages over Castiel’s neck, slow and possessive.
“Can’t wait to use it.” Dean uses his leverage on Castiel’s neck to hold him down, grinding his cock up against him. Castiel’s eyes widen with understanding and yes, God, he cannot wait to use it either.
Castiel moans, his ass running wet and his dick pressing hard between them.
“Bet you’re never done that either.” Dean smiles against his mouth as Castiel shakes his head softly.
“Gonna teach you everything, Cas.”
Dean licks into his mouth, prying him wider, more insistent. Castiel whimpers when Dean pulls off, his lower lip still caught between Dean’s teeth.
“Teach you how to suck dick, teach you how to take a knot like a good boy.”
Good boy. It curls around Castiel, sneaking under his skin, flooding him until his toes curl.
“I’ll be good, Dean, please.”
“I know you will.” Dean’s eyes are wide and there’s no hint of teasing on his face.
“You’re gonna be perfect for me. Perfect, dirty little thing for me, Cas.”
Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair, tugging back until Castiel’s throat is bared.
“Gave up your first tie to a dog, Cas. You know how fucking hot that gets me?”
Dean’s teeth scrape over his skin.
“Never even been fucked but you just had to have it, didn’t it? Had to…”
Dean trails off, sighing against Castiel’s neck.
“Fuck,” Dean groans.
“What’s wrong?” Castiel dares to ask after a second. Dean goes still beneath him.
“You’re basically a virgin, Cas, right?”
Castiel nods, fervently. He’d never lie about that.
“So it’s probably a safe bet that you aren’t on any suppressants, huh?”
Oh.
Castiel hadn’t even thought of that. He’s like one of those bad health class movies about omegas who make bad decisions in the heat of the moment. He thinks of Anna’s jest and blushes.
“No.”
“That’s ok.” Dean grimaces, his jaw jutting out.
“I’ve got some patches here, they’re just, uh, gonna take a while to work.” Dean blows a breath out through his lips, impatience written all over his face.
Castiel has some of the transdermal omega birth control patches in his room at home. They give them out for free at school, a move half of the parents had protested. His own parents had applauded the move and subjected him to a mortifying conversation about sexual responsibility.
The patch takes an hour to absorb sufficiently. Castiel’s hole clenches at the thought of an entire hour without Dean inside him.
“Let me get them, ok?”
Dean kisses him again before gently moving Castiel aside. He rummages through a drawer in his dresser, pushing aside a neatly-folded stack of undershirts.
“Got ‘em.”
Dean moves him to sit on the bed, heedless of the mess drying on Castiel’s backside. He kneels between Castiel’s legs, his muscular back spreading Castiel’s legs until they’re close enough to kiss again.
“I’m not getting you knocked up.”
He presses the patch gently to Castiel’s stomach, running his fingers over it to make sure it sticks.
“Not tonight.”
God, the thought of Dean breeding him. Dean arches an eyebrow at the pathetic sound Castiel makes at that.
“Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of fun.”
Dean glances at his bedside clock before turning back to Castiel.
“How’re we gonna pass the time, Cas?” Dean asks, a hungry smile on his lips.
The minutes press in against him as Castiel squirms closer to Dean.
“I could,” Castiel bites his lip and looks across the room. Dean nods encouragingly, his hand soothing up and down Castiel’s back.
“I could let Zepp fuck me again while we wait.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Dean crushes Castiel against him, kissing him so hard Castiel’s lips tingle.
“You’d let him, wouldn’t you?” Dean’s nose edges down along Castiel’s jaw, his lips dragging hot on Castiel’s skin.
“Let Zepp open you up for me, Christ.”
Dean’s hands rove over his back while his chest presses warm against Castiel’s.
“Take you right after he busts a nut inside you, fuck all that doggy come right out of you.”
Castiel doesn’t even know which way to move any more. Every arch of his back and wrap of his legs brings him closer to Dean, Dean who’s kissing at him fiercely and scratching softly at his skin. It’s wonderful.
“So perfect for me,” Dean whispers.
“I’ll do it.” Castiel nods, looking over at Zepp.
“If you want me to.”
Dean groans.
“Christ, you are a good boy, aren’t you?”
Castiel squirms at the praise. It’s addictive.
Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s. He breathes out, his breath a sweet rush against Castiel’s lips.
“We got time,” Dean mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
“We’ve got time to do everything you want Cas, anything.” Dean blinks.
“But you’re gonna be all mine the first time.”
Dean wraps his arms around Castiel’s chest and stands up, lifting Castiel with him.
He carries Castiel into the shower after leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. Castiel hasn’t had anyone bathe him since he was a little kid. Dean is so gentle, his big hands soaping up every inch of Castiel except where his patch is fixed. Castiel doesn’t speak. His eyes rove hungrily over Dean’s naked body, the huge hang of his cock between his legs. He’s not hard anymore but God, it’s still bigger than Zepp. He lets Castiel touch it, wet and warm against his fingers.
Big fingers card through his hair and carefully, slowly clean out his hole until Castiel’s pale skin is flushed pink and warm all over. Dean handles him like he’s something special but he doesn’t make Castiel feel like a child. He feels beautiful. And he smells amazing.
“I smell like you.”
Castiel smiles as Dean carries him back to the bed.
“I know.”
Dean lands them both on the bed. His mattress is so soft Castiel barely bounces.
“You know that’s an alpha thing, right?”
Dean lays him on his back and sinks down by his side.
“I want every inch of you to smell like me.”
Castiel glances at the clock. Three minutes.
“I want that too.” Castiel noses against his neck, open-mouthed for that scent.
“Come inside you, fill you up good and rub it on your skin until every alpha for ten miles knows whose knot you’re taking.”
A rush of slick spills out of him, hot between his legs.
“Gets you wet, doesn’t it?”
Dean hooks a hand under his leg, pushing him up at the knee. His legs rise up to his chest, his hole oozing out another rush. Castiel’s red all over with how exposed it makes him, how much it makes him want to spread his legs wider as Dean crawls down between his thighs.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Cas.”
Dean’s voice is soft, reverent. Castiel’s heart beats against his chest, unaccustomed to any attention to his body, let alone praise.
“Tight little hole, fuck.” Dean pushes his legs back more, spreading him wider.
“It’s flexing for me, you know that?”
“I, yeah,” Castiel moans. “I can feel it.”
“Want me inside so bad, don’t you?”
Dean’s fingers sink in easy, two of them pressing home. It sounds wet and Castiel whimpers, his hole clenching down around them.
“God you feel good inside.” Dean fucks him with his fingers, in and out, circling them around. It’s like scratching a place right next to an itch, good but not even close to what he needs.
“And you got a gorgeous little prick, Cas.”
Castiel’s dick throbs against his belly, the slim weight of it jumping when Dean’s slick-soaked fingers brush over it.
“Gonna suck you off later, get this pretty little cock in my mouth until you come for me.”
A bead of precome leaks out of him, smearing on his skin. Dean’s tongue chases it, licking flat against his skin. Dean’s groan vibrates against him.
“Please tell me that patch’s good to go, Cas.”
Three fingers sink into him, down to the knuckle.
“I think I’m gonna die if I don’t knot you, baby.”
Castiel’s hole flutters wildly, slick running thick. Baby. God, he could come just listening to Dean say it.
His stomach drops when he looks at the clock. It’s time.
He’s trembling all over, body bent awkwardly, Dean’s fingers inside him, the hot echo of his tongue against Castiel’s skin. He’s gonna be bad at it, he won’t feel good or he’ll do something wrong or God, maybe he’s already ruined himself with Zepp.
Dean’s hand splays over his chest.
“Don’t worry, Cas.” Dean eases his legs back down.
“Just do what I tell you.”
Dean hooks his arms under Castiel’s shoulders, lifting him up. Their chests press together as Dean kisses him, over and over until Castiel is dizzy and Dean’s leaning back against the headboard.
“I want to see you.”
He brings Castiel to straddle him. Castiel doesn’t know what to do with his hands until Dean takes them, closing his own over them and pressing them against either side of Castiel’s ass.
“Spread your legs and pull that pretty little hole open for my cock.”
Dean’s voice is deep and thick, a voice anyone would listen to. Castiel spreads himself open under Dean’s direction and his warm, alpha surety.
“That’s it.” Dean’s hands massage over his, kneading at his ass. He moves Castiel until the head of his cock brushes against Castiel’s hole.
“You’re gonna sink down real slow.”
Dean releases one of his hands and reaches behind Castiel, gripping his cock to hold it steady. Castiel can feel it throbbing against him, pressing at his hole without forcing in.
“You can do it, baby.”
Slicks leaks out of him, spilling onto Dean’s cock and Castiel eases back, his eyes going wide at the first breach of Dean inside him.
He’s huge.
“That’s it, Cas, let me in.”
Castiel strains, pushing himself open. Dean’s eyes are locked on his, his lips parted and licked wet.
“Love those little sounds you make,” Dean urges, nodding as Castiel lets himself whine at the stretch, grunts out the effort of taking Dean’s cock to the base. He’s got sweat beading on his forehead by the time he’s fully seated.
“See how hard you get me?” Dean spans his hands over Castiel’s hips, grinding him down. It feels like getting split open and put back together all at once.
“Dean,” Castiel moans, squirming under Dean’s hands. His skin runs hot and cold, goosebumps prickling up all over him.
“God, you feel so fucking good.”
Dean guides him up, just a few inches, the hot drag of Dean’s cock inside him making him cry out.
“Feel that, Cas?” Dean sinks him back down, Castiel’s slick oozing out around the base of Dean’s cock.
“That’s what your body’s made for.”
Castiel has never agreed more with a statement in his life. He lets Dean guide him up and down, his hole opening more and more with each thrust. God, it makes so much more noise than Castiel could have imagined, wet slaps and smacks, all of it playing filthy over the low growl coming from Dean’s chest.
“Take it like a fucking natural, baby.”
Dean’s thumbs press into his hipbones, rough and solid. Castiel tries to buck up into them, to bruise himself so he’ll have something to see later.
“Want you to come for me, Cas.” Dean releases his grip to guide one of Castiel’s hands onto his dick.
“Be a good boy and jerk that cute little dick off while you ride my cock.”
Castiel’s hand flies over his dick, jerking himself rough and fast, knowing he’s close. Every touch feels a hundred times more sensitive, the relentless stretch of Dean’s cock in his hole sending shivers through him. His mouth hangs open, heedless of what he looks like, whether he’s drooling on himself or mumbling a bunch of nonsense. All he can feel is his orgasm cresting up and Dean’s guttural, glorious stream of praise.
“Fucking perfect, Cas, perfect boy for me, perfect dirty little boy all for me, come for me, Cas, come on, milk that knot out of me, do it.”
Castiel feels tears in his eyes when he comes. His cock shoots its little load onto Dean’s stomach, a little pool of white above his bellybutton. His hole is clenching so hard Dean grits his teeth, cursing and fucking up into Castiel so hard the bed creaks beneath them.
“M’gonna fucking knot you Cas, m’so close.” Dean’s sweaty and straining under him, pulling Castiel down onto every thrust.
“Do it, oh,” Castiel moans, his words slurred as his body shudders through the last waves of his orgasm.
“Knot me, Dean, please, please, please.” Castiel’s begging like a bad porn and he loves it. He needs it.
“Feel it?” Dean pulls him down, hard.
The pressure in Castiel’s hole is insane. Dean fucks him in tight little thrusts, just enough to pull his knot out to strain against Castiel’s hole. Dean growls when he sinks home the last time, his knot popping in against Castiel’s dripping rim.
“You’re mine now, Cas, you got that?”
Castiel just nods, his body flooding with a thousand feelings, a thousand thoughts and sounds and colors and all of them just look like Dean.
“You don’t take any knot except mine,” Dean leans up, bending his knees to pull them as close together as he can, “and my dog’s.”
Castiel moans, his inner walls working furiously to milk at the fat knot inside him. Dean is so much bigger than Zepp, bigger than anything Castiel could have let himself dream about. The first flood of come into his hole shocks him, rushing out to fill him up.
“Oh, God, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is cracked, rising up on Dean’s name. His head tips back, some instinct telling him to give Dean his neck, his belly, all the vulnerable parts that Dean can take care of.
“Christ, I can see my cock in you.” Dean’s hand settles warm over his belly, pressing softly beneath his belly button.
Castiel looks down, his mouth falling open. The vague outline of Dean’s cock presses against his stomach, stretching him from the inside. His belly bulges with it, a slight swell where it’s normally flat.
Dean presses on it, his eyebrows drawing together.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No,” Castiel answers quickly, shaking his head.
“It feels so good.”
And God it does. Castiel’s heard of knotting highs and other romance novel crap like that, but the euphoria washing over him is so real.
Dean’s face beams as he draws Castiel down for a kiss.
“Good thing you’re here all weekend.”
~
Part 3
Part 2
Castiel tries so hard to be good.
He’s not sure how good it is that he lasts about two hours before he excuses himself to his room and locks the door. It’s probably not so good that he lasts another two seconds before he’s pulling Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers out of his bag and stuffing them in his mouth, his dick throbbing and his hole an empty, wet ache. He’d wiped off the worst of it but he knows he still has some of Zepp’s come inside him, can feel it when he bears down and pushes.
He gets himself off twice more, face-down in his stolen underwear that stink of dog spunk and his own jizz and just the faintest, tantalizing trace of Mr. Winchester. And God, the things Castiel thinks of, things he can’t stop from flooding into his mind as he sinks three fingers inside himself. He fucks himself at the awkward angle, hooking and pulling on his rim, trying to coat his fingers with any residual come he can get to. He’d never imagined feeling so full, the way Zepp’s knot has locked inside him and stretched him so huge.
Castiel thrusts his hips back, trying to imitate Zepp’s brutal pace, panting against the come-soaked boxers while he pictures that fat knot swelling inside him, pictures huge, swollen cocks pounding into him, Zepp and Mr. Winchester taking turns with him, fuck, both of them using him at once. Castiel gasps, his dick coming almost dry as he imagines Zepp on one end of him and Mr. Winchester on the other, knots in his mouth and his ass and come leaking from every hole in his body.
Castiel falls asleep with Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers under his pillow.
~
He makes it one whole day without watching the dog video again, not that he hasn’t thought about it on repeat every single second of the day. It can’t hurt to watch a movie, it’ll just get it out of his system before he goes to walk Zepp.
He doesn’t touch Zepp the next day, not aside from his usual pets and scratches. He’s mortified when Zepp immediately starts nosing at his ass, snuffling through the fabric of Castiel’s jeans. Castiel shoos him off, which Zepp takes as an invitation to start humping his leg. He wills himself to look away from the red head of his dick poking out from its sheath.
He can’t do it again. Mr. Winchester is giving him another chance and Castiel is not going to fuck it up.
The next day isn’t so bad. Zepp still noses at him and jumps up a few times to start humping, but he calms down after an extra-long walk. It’s not like Castiel doesn’t immediately go home and hump himself to two unsatisfying orgasms thinking about his new favorite obsession, but it’s just that. A fantasy.
The weekend comes and Castiel feels the same letdown he always feels on a Friday. No Zepp for two days, no huge, beautiful apartment to sit in and do his homework, no smell of Mr. Winchester all around him. He spends the afternoon cuddling Zepp, curling up with him on his dog bed. If he ignores the feeling of Zepp humping against him, of his dick starting to protrude and press insistently against him, it’s just because he can’t bring himself to scold Zepp for doing something that must seem natural. It’s not like Zepp knows how fucked up Castiel is.
He gets home at 6:30 with a heavy heart. Maybe it’s better that he’s away from Zepp for a while. It’s like torture to be so close to him. Castiel slinks home and lets the noise and confusion of his family subsume him for a while. At least it’s hard to hear yourself think when your brothers won’t stop challenging each other to arm wrestling matches and your sisters are shrieking over who cheated at hockey.
He doesn’t recognize his phone alert the first time it goes off. Castiel has friends but he knows most of them are out for the night, seeing a movie and getting burgers and other things Castiel just isn’t in the mood for. He drags himself off the couch and rolls his eyes at an indulgent look from his mother. She’s always subtly encouraging him to “blossom,” although she’s less encouraging when he replies that he’d blossom a lot better if he had an iphone like everyone else instead of his shitty cheap flip phone. He rolls his eyes and pointedly flips it open.
His heart stops when he looks at the name. It’s Mr. Winchester.
His hands shake as he brings his phone into the bathroom and closes the door, not sure what to expect. I’ve contacted social services. The police are on their way. Don’t come back.
Castiel flips his phone open and takes a deep breath. He deserves whatever he gets. He’s a criminal, worse, he’s an animal abuser.
Hey Cas. I have an emergency project this weekend. Any chance you could come tomorrow afternoon and spend the night?
Gabriel is always threatening to drug Castiel’s cereal or some asshole move like that. It’s the easiest explanation Castiel can come up with for this remarkably real hallucination.
His phone beeps again as he’s holding it and it’s shock and shock alone that keeps him from dropping it in the toilet.
I’ll pay you $20/hour and leave some cash for you to order dinner. I’d hate to leave Zepp at the kennel overnite.
Castiel chews on his lip. Zepp would be so scared in a kennel, even if it’s one of the really fancy ones with a pool and stuff. Mr. Winchester takes such good care of Zepp.
He probably takes such good care of his omegas too.
Castiel ignores the dull ache in his omega briefs as he writes back to Mr. Winchester. Of course he’ll do it.
~
His parents take some convincing, but Castiel has a surprising ally in Anna.
“I don’t know, Castiel.” His father steeples his hands on the kitchen table. “Spending the night in some alpha’s house…”
“I’ve seen him around, you know.” Anna rummages through the pantry, frowning at the empty box of cereal bars that Gabe will absolutely deny leaving there.
“He’s really handsome.” She pushes aside some cans and smiles as she finds a half-crumpled sleeve of graham crackers. Their father looks less impressed.
“And so is that other alpha, the one he’s always running with?” She gives Castiel a pointed look.
“They seem pretty, you know,” Anna raises an eyebrow at their dad. “Friendly?”
“Oh, yeah, that must be his friend.” Castiel races to come up with a name. “His friend Sam, they, uh, they seem to spend a lot of time together.”
Castiel winces a little. Sam is Mr. Winchester’s brother, and he’s married to a pretty beta girl with blonde hair. Mr. Winchester has a picture of them on his mantle.
“I see.” Their father nods, a small smile on his lips.
“Well I think it’s great for you kids to be exposed to all kinds of families.”
Anna rolls her eyes behind his back.
“Well you have a nice night with that pup, ok?”
Once their father leaves Anna grabs his arm, one eyebrow arching up.
“I don’t care what you’re actually doing tonight, but you owe me.”
“I’m not-“
“Whatever, kiddo. Just have fun and don’t, like, get arrested?” She ruffles Castiel’s hair.
“And for fuck’s sake, don’t get knocked up, ok?”
Castiel just gives her a horrified look as she shrugs.
He can’t wait to get out of his house.
~
Saturday afternoon comes on like molasses, with Castiel watching every minute tick by. He finishes all his homework, and his chores, and even willingly does some of Anna’s chores just to get her off his back and keep himself from going insane.
He arrives at Mr. Winchester’s house at two o’clock on the dot. He leaves his stuff by the door and takes Zepp right out. They spend a good two hours playing in the dog park, and they’re both hot by the time they make it back to the apartment.
Castiel fills Zepp’s bowl with fresh water. The air conditioning blasts over him as he tries to busy himself straightening up Zepp’s toys and watching some TV. Mr. Winchester gets channels that Castiel didn’t even know existed, but nothing catches Castiel’s eye.
He can’t stop thinking about sleeping in Mr. Winchester’s bed.
Mr. Winchester’s note had been clear that there were clean sheets on the bed and fresh towels in his bathroom. Castiel had assumed he’d be sleeping on the couch. Maybe those stereotypes about alphas being territorial of their private spaces weren’t always true.
Mr. Winchester’s bathroom is as immaculate as always. Castiel washes his face in the sink, careful to only use a tiny drop of the fancy soap that sits next to the sink. It smells like oranges, if the oranges cost more than his parents car and came in a crate of endangered wood. Everything about Mr. Winchester smells so good.
Castiel pats his face dry on a towel, closing his eyes as he rubs the soft cotton against his face. It doesn’t feel scratchy or worn-down like the towels in his house. Even the faint scent of the detergent Mr. Winchester uses is nice, fresh and clean without the bleach aftertaste of his mother’s store-brand powder.
He glances through the bathroom doorway, looking at the large bed with its crisp gray sheets and overstuffed pillows. It can’t hurt to touch it. He’s supposed to sleep on it, after all. Better to get it over with.
The scent of Mr. Winchester is even stronger in the bedroom, lingering over the crisp smell of freshly-changed sheets. He wishes Mr. Winchester had left the dirty ones on. Castiel wants to smell everything. He shouldn’t open Mr. Winchester’s closet but he won’t touch anything, he just needs to see if the dirty sheets are at the top of his hamper. They have to be.
He hears Zepp trot into the bedroom as he slides open the closet door. He shouldn’t do this. He takes a deep breath, determined to close the door and stop being so pathetic.
Then he smells it.
Mr. Winchester’s scent is always thick inside his closet, but Castiel’s never smelled anything close to this before. He stumbles in, heading straight for the hamper like his nose is leading his whole body.
The dirty sheets are there. They’re crumpled up, slightly overflowing the frame of the hamper. They’re a pale gray pinstripe, light as a cloud everywhere except for the darker spot that Castiel can’t stop himself from touching. He curls his fingers into it, his mouth falling open at the stiffness.
This is what Castiel’s sheets usually feel like when he stuffs them into the washer.
He pulls them out before he can think about it. It’s a top sheet, soft everywhere he touches it until he drags his fingers over the matted stain in the middle. He brings it up his nose, lips trembling.
It’s come.
Castiel licks his lips, glancing back through the closet door. Zepp sits on the floor, head lolling to the side, completely unaware that Castiel is close to losing his mind. He has to stop. Now. Just the scent of it is making a thousand filthy thoughts race through Castiel’s mind and he won’t give in again, he can’t.
He looks back in the hamper, ready to stuff the sheet back in. He could have, really, he knows he could have stopped himself.
Then he sees the alpha boxers.
They’re laid flat beneath the sheet, crotch facing up. They’re ruined. The white fabric is stained all over with that pearlsheen shine, slightly darker and flooding Castiel’s senses. He’s never smelled alpha come this close, aside from his brother’s nasty piles of laundry in the basement.
Castiel buries his face in them and groans.
He’s hot all over, face flushing red as he breathes in deeply. It’s everything Mr. Winchester should smell like, earthy and strong, a little bitter and it all makes him leak wet in two seconds flat. He’d flush with shame if he could get any redder, because he’s smelled Mr. Winchester’s dirty underwear before and it’s never, ever come close to this.
Castiel looks back at Zepp, feeling his stomach drop out with need. He has to, God, he fucking needs it, needs anything. This is torture. He’s here all night, he’ll clean up good and it’ll be the last time, he’ll quit on Monday.
He staggers out, the alpha boxers bunched in one hand while the shoves his pants off with the other. Zepp surges up eagerly, his tail wagging and his ears pricking.
Castiel gets on all fours, stumbling towards Zepp. He shoves Mr. Winchester’s underwear into his mouth, letting his spit soak into it as he reaches behind himself and sinks two fingers into his hole. He’s leaking slick everywhere, rivulets of it streaking down the small hill of his balls, running all over his fingers. His body barely feels like his own, something like a heat but he knows that’s not it.
He needs to get bred.
He draws his fingers out and sticks them under Zepp’s nose. He licks at them eagerly, long tongue snaking around Castiel’s fingers as he starts to get hard. Castiel does it a few more times, impatiently fucking himself back onto four of his clenched fingers before feeding it back to Zepp.
Zepp’s cock is all the way out as he turns around to present himself. He knows he should open himself up more but he’ll take it, he’ll take the pain, take anything to get that knot inside him where he fucking needs it. Zepp huffs and whines as he gets up on Castiel’s back, nails scratching at him.
All Castiel can feel is the hot press of Zepp’s dick against his hole.
He’s drooling on Mr. Winchester’s alpha boxers as he reaches back to guide Zepp home. Everything smells like Mr. Winchester, fuck, like Dean’s come as Castiel urges the throbbing, tapered head of Zepp’s cock into him.
He cries out as Zepp fucks into him, hips arching forward to sink home immediately. It knocks the wind out of him, stuffing him full all at once and he barely notices he’s moaning for it.
He shifts down onto his elbows, legs spread, heavy dog pressed against his back as his cock jackhammers in and out. It hurts and he wants more of it with every manic thrust of that big doggy dick into him.
“Fuck, Zepp, that’s it.” It all sounds like nonsense around his mouthful of come-stained alpha boxers but Castiel doesn’t need to make sense right now, doesn’t even need to be human. He needs that fat dog knot pumping him full of come, fucking him cross-eyed until he can’t think about Dean any more.
“G’boy, come on.” Castiel shakes each time Zepp slams home. His cock slaps up against his belly, rock hard and leaking precome. Castiel only has to stroke himself a few times before he’s coming. His small omega load spills onto the floor beneath him.
“C’mon Zepp, fucking do it.” Castiel arches his back, grunting as he feels Zepp’s cock get thicker and thicker with each thrust. He’s gonna knot soon, Castiel can feel it, all of his senses narrowed down to the smell of Mr. Winchester and that rough ache in his hole.
Castiel’s scream is muffled by the underwear in his mouth as Zepp’s knot pops in, caught inside him. A warm rush of come floods inside him, a fresh burst with each twitch of Zepp on top of him. Castiel’s hole clenches back, his body taking over and milking as much of it as he can out of the Zepp’s tight balls and his fat, hot dick and it’s all so fucked up.
Castiel’s worse than one of those omegas. He doesn’t just need it, he loves it. His body shakes and shudders, pleasure rumbling through him as Zepp pumps him full. He’s a fucking slut for this, he’d get fucked like this every night if he could.
“Knot me, knot me, fucking breed me Zepp,” Castiel whines, giving in and letting himself beg like he wants to.
“Get that fat doggy dick deep inside, fuck.”
He’s barely caught his breath when Zepp turns around, bringing them back to back. Sweat drips from his forehead. Castiel tugs his t-shirt over his head, wincing as he feels the pull of Zepp’s knot on his hole. They’re stuck tight. Careful to place Mr. Winchester’s underwear close to him, Castiel groans and starts to mop his face off.
His eyes are closed when he hears the door click shut.
“Hi there, Cas.”
Castiel scrambles, panic flooding him. No. No no no no.
“Shhh, hey, hey.” Mr. Winchester shakes his head. “Don’t move, you’ll hurt him.”
Oh God.
Oh God.
Zepp whines, his excitement at seeing his owner evident.
“Looks like you’re having some fun, huh, boy?” Mr. Winchester says to Zepp. He crosses the room in a few confident strides before kneeling down to scratch at Zepp’s ear.
Castiel is frozen. Squeezing his eyes shut seems like the best idea. He can feel tears welling up, his throat closing.
“I had to see it for myself.”
Mr. Winchester settles down on the floor, cross-legged. Why won’t he just leave and let Castiel die in peace?
“You know, I suspected and everything, but that’s a hell of a thing to really believe, you know, Cas?”
Castiel blinks up at him, lip trembling.
“Come home to find you stinking like you just got fucked in my kitchen is one thing.” Mr. Winchester taps his fingers together.
“But my dog?” He shakes his head.
“I’m sor-” Castiel can’t even get the word out before he starts crying.
“No, Cas, don’t cry.” Mr. Winchester slides closer to him, picking Castiel’s t-shirt up and wiping at his face.
“I’m sorry I scared you but I just,” Mr. Winchester sighs, a long breath coming out through his pursed lips.
“It’s not the kind of thing I could just ask you.” He pulls out his phone.
“See, they have these new home security systems now, they’re real small.” He nods over to a small white box on his dresser. Castiel hadn’t even noticed it.
“I just had to see.” He taps the screen of his phone. A crisp picture of his bedroom appears, with all three of them on the floor. Castiel winces.
“Mr. Winchester, I,” Castiel gulps, his own body betraying him and flexing around Zepp’s knot.
“I’m so sorry and it won’t happen again, I promise, I promise, and I’ll leave as soon as, as soon as,” Castiel breaks off, helpless while he’s tied off on Zepp. His arms shake with the effort of holding himself up. He can’t look at Mr. Winchester, not when he’s like this. His eyes dart back to the phone, to the image of himself ass-up in the air with a panting dog locked behind him. Seeing the evidence of what a disgusting freak he is makes him blanche. Evidence.
“Oh God Mr. Winchester please don’t call the cops, or, or,” Castiel hiccups, the worst possibility playing out in his mind.
“Please don’t tell my parents.”
“You’re not in any trouble, Cas.”
Castiel flinches as he feels Mr. Winchester’s hand under his chin, big and warm. He tilts Castiel’s head up until he has to look at him.
“I’m not gonna tell the cops,” he says, looking right into Castiel’s teary eyes.
“And I’m sure as shit not gonna tell your parents.”
Castiel whimpers with relief.
“But I can’t keep doing this, Cas.”
He swipes his thumb over Castiel’s cheek, catching a stray tear.
“I can’t keep coming home every day and smelling that sweet goddamned scent of yours everywhere.”
Castiel blinks, his vision clearing. Mr. Winchester’s looking at him so intently it makes Castiel squirm.
“I can’t keep looking at that perfect little body of yours and those big eyes and that fucking mouth.”
Castiel’s lips tremble as Mr. Winchester’s thumb swipes over his lower lip, rubbing back and forth before pressing down in the middle.
“I can’t keep stripping my dick every night thinking about how fucking hot you’d look hanging off my knot, Christ, what that gorgeous little ass would look like getting pounded by my fucking dog.”
Castiel’s hole clenches down, hard enough to make Zepp buck back a little.
“You’re not … you’re not mad?” Castiel whispers, desperate to keep Mr. Winchester’s thumb on his mouth.
“No.” Mr. Winchester shakes his head. He draws his thumb back and Castiel chases after it on instinct.
“Jesus, Cas.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Look, you can leave once Zepp’s done. You can walk out, and you can go on with your life. I’m sure I can find you another pet sitting gig if you need the cash. I’m not … I don’t want to make you do anything.”
Castiel’s tears well up again at the thought of leaving.
“Please don’t make me leave.” His voice sounds small. Mr. Winchester sighs, sounding distressed.
“You’re so fucking young. And this is…” He waves his had at Zepp, still firmly lodged inside Castiel.
“This is some fucked up shit, Cas.”
“I know it is.” Castiel steels himself. Being honest can’t possibly be worse than being kicked out of Mr. Winchester’s life, of losing him and Zepp.
“I know it’s fucked up but I,” Castiel takes a deep breath.
“I like it.”
He watches the way Mr. Winchester’s eyes widen.
“I like it a lot. I didn’t … it’s not like I’ve ever done it before but, just, you don’t know what it’s like, coming here and smelling you everywhere and … I know it’s bad but I love the way it feels when he, when Zepp,” Castiel stops to catch his breath.
“You like having his knot in you?” Mr. Winchester leans in closer, his broad shoulders sloping down.
“Yes.” Castiel’s voice cracks before he can continue.
“I didn’t force him to do it, I swear, I’d never hurt Zepp, God, I just did it ‘cause I can’t, I just.” He swallows, his throat ragged.
“I wanted it to be you.”
He looks up at Mr. Winchester, knowing he’s ruined everything and not caring. He’s ugly and open and gross and so ashamed he can’t care about himself anymore. He closes his eyes, waiting for the final blow.
“Cas.” Mr. Winchester’s voice is a deep growl. Castiel peels an eye open and sees Mr. Winchester’s big palm splayed over his crotch, the heel of his hand grinding down.
“You can’t just say shit like that to me.” There’s a warning tone in his voice, deep and commanding and fuck, Castiel’s getting hard again.
“Please, Mr. Winchester.”
It’s instinct that guides his hand out to grab Mr. Winchester’s wrist, to pull his hand in close and slowly suck his thumb into his mouth. Where it belongs.
“Oh, fuck, Cas.”
Mr. Winchester works his thumb in and out of Castiel’s mouth, slowly, each whorl of his fingerprint dragging over Castiel’s tongue. He tastes salty and hot. Castiel whines in his throat.
“You take my knot, you’re gonna say my name, you understand me?”
A small trail of spit follows Mr. Winchester’s thumb, Dean’s thumb, as he pulls back, rearing up onto his knees. His slacks stretch taut over his cock and Castiel’s mouth waters all over again.
“Yes, Dean.”
“That’s right.” Dean nods and catches Castiel’s face in both hands, running his fingers into Castiel’s hair.
“Christ, I’m getting fucking hard just looking at you.” Dean tightens his fingers, making Castiel moan and arch up into his touch.
“Get him out of you.” He jerks his chin at Zepp.
“Push him out, come on, you can do it,” he urges, freeing one hand from Castiel’s hair to stroke down his side.
“It’s my turn.”
Castiel tenses with effort, grunting as he forces Zepp’s knot out. It hurts and it’s followed by the most humiliating wet pop he’s ever heard. Zepp huffs and slinks away after one look from Dean.
“Jesus fuck,” Dean curses, hauling him up into his lap the second Zepp’s out of him. His hands smooth down Castiel’s back, like he can’t decide where to touch first.
“You’re such a fucking mess down there.” Fingers curve down the arch of Castiel’s ass to find his hole, dipping inside.
“All that fucking come inside you,” Dean fucks his fingers in and out, slow, teasing. “Zepp filled you up good, didn’t he?”
Castiel squirms, feeling a fat rush of come seep out of him as Dean tugs at his hole. He’s gonna ruin Dean’s pants and he’s so dirty. He buries his face in Dean’s neck.
“You have any idea how fucking hot that is?”
Castiel stills, his heart thudding in his chest.
“Jesus, Cas, I’ve had whores turn down a whole lot of money ‘cause they didn’t want to do shit like that with Zepp.”
“But you.” Dean rakes a hand into his hair, pulling him back to look Dean in the eye.
“You love it, don’t you?”
Castiel just nods, basking in the look Dean’s giving him. Eyes wide and so green, every inch of his handsome face shining at Castiel. Like he’s something special.
“You ever take an alpha’s knot before, Cas?” Dean moves Castiel aside so he can undo his slacks. Castiel watches, rapt, as he undoes his belt, pops his button open, as he slides the zipper down, pulling his fly open. Castiel reaches down to trace over the outline of his cock, hard and huge pressing against the pouch of his alpha boxers.
“No,” Castiel whispers, suddenly bashful. What if he’s not any good?
“God, you really are perfect, aren’t you?”
Dean guides him by the hips to straddle him, Castiel’s legs splaying skinny around Dean’s sides. There’s only thin cotton separating him from Dean’s cock. Castiel grinds against it, letting the heat seep into him.
“You ever been kissed?”
Castiel blushes deeper. He knows that one stolen smack on the lips from another omega behind the bleachers doesn’t really count.
“Not really.”
“Good.” Dean flattens his palm on the small of Castiel’s back, guiding him to grind his hips down at a slow, maddening pace. His other hand closes over the back of Castiel’s neck, squeezing softly.
Dean’s lips are soft. They press against Castiel’s, plush and warm and insistent. He shivers when Dean slips his tongue between them, sliding over Castiel’s teeth to part them and dart inside. Castiel does his best to imitate him and before long Dean’s moaning in satisfaction.
“Sweet little mouth,” Dean whispers between kisses. His hand massages over Castiel’s neck, slow and possessive.
“Can’t wait to use it.” Dean uses his leverage on Castiel’s neck to hold him down, grinding his cock up against him. Castiel’s eyes widen with understanding and yes, God, he cannot wait to use it either.
Castiel moans, his ass running wet and his dick pressing hard between them.
“Bet you’re never done that either.” Dean smiles against his mouth as Castiel shakes his head softly.
“Gonna teach you everything, Cas.”
Dean licks into his mouth, prying him wider, more insistent. Castiel whimpers when Dean pulls off, his lower lip still caught between Dean’s teeth.
“Teach you how to suck dick, teach you how to take a knot like a good boy.”
Good boy. It curls around Castiel, sneaking under his skin, flooding him until his toes curl.
“I’ll be good, Dean, please.”
“I know you will.” Dean’s eyes are wide and there’s no hint of teasing on his face.
“You’re gonna be perfect for me. Perfect, dirty little thing for me, Cas.”
Dean’s fingers tighten in his hair, tugging back until Castiel’s throat is bared.
“Gave up your first tie to a dog, Cas. You know how fucking hot that gets me?”
Dean’s teeth scrape over his skin.
“Never even been fucked but you just had to have it, didn’t it? Had to…”
Dean trails off, sighing against Castiel’s neck.
“Fuck,” Dean groans.
“What’s wrong?” Castiel dares to ask after a second. Dean goes still beneath him.
“You’re basically a virgin, Cas, right?”
Castiel nods, fervently. He’d never lie about that.
“So it’s probably a safe bet that you aren’t on any suppressants, huh?”
Oh.
Castiel hadn’t even thought of that. He’s like one of those bad health class movies about omegas who make bad decisions in the heat of the moment. He thinks of Anna’s jest and blushes.
“No.”
“That’s ok.” Dean grimaces, his jaw jutting out.
“I’ve got some patches here, they’re just, uh, gonna take a while to work.” Dean blows a breath out through his lips, impatience written all over his face.
Castiel has some of the transdermal omega birth control patches in his room at home. They give them out for free at school, a move half of the parents had protested. His own parents had applauded the move and subjected him to a mortifying conversation about sexual responsibility.
The patch takes an hour to absorb sufficiently. Castiel’s hole clenches at the thought of an entire hour without Dean inside him.
“Let me get them, ok?”
Dean kisses him again before gently moving Castiel aside. He rummages through a drawer in his dresser, pushing aside a neatly-folded stack of undershirts.
“Got ‘em.”
Dean moves him to sit on the bed, heedless of the mess drying on Castiel’s backside. He kneels between Castiel’s legs, his muscular back spreading Castiel’s legs until they’re close enough to kiss again.
“I’m not getting you knocked up.”
He presses the patch gently to Castiel’s stomach, running his fingers over it to make sure it sticks.
“Not tonight.”
God, the thought of Dean breeding him. Dean arches an eyebrow at the pathetic sound Castiel makes at that.
“Don’t worry, we’ll have plenty of fun.”
Dean glances at his bedside clock before turning back to Castiel.
“How’re we gonna pass the time, Cas?” Dean asks, a hungry smile on his lips.
The minutes press in against him as Castiel squirms closer to Dean.
“I could,” Castiel bites his lip and looks across the room. Dean nods encouragingly, his hand soothing up and down Castiel’s back.
“I could let Zepp fuck me again while we wait.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Dean crushes Castiel against him, kissing him so hard Castiel’s lips tingle.
“You’d let him, wouldn’t you?” Dean’s nose edges down along Castiel’s jaw, his lips dragging hot on Castiel’s skin.
“Let Zepp open you up for me, Christ.”
Dean’s hands rove over his back while his chest presses warm against Castiel’s.
“Take you right after he busts a nut inside you, fuck all that doggy come right out of you.”
Castiel doesn’t even know which way to move any more. Every arch of his back and wrap of his legs brings him closer to Dean, Dean who’s kissing at him fiercely and scratching softly at his skin. It’s wonderful.
“So perfect for me,” Dean whispers.
“I’ll do it.” Castiel nods, looking over at Zepp.
“If you want me to.”
Dean groans.
“Christ, you are a good boy, aren’t you?”
Castiel squirms at the praise. It’s addictive.
Dean rests his forehead against Castiel’s. He breathes out, his breath a sweet rush against Castiel’s lips.
“We got time,” Dean mutters, squeezing his eyes shut for a second.
“We’ve got time to do everything you want Cas, anything.” Dean blinks.
“But you’re gonna be all mine the first time.”
Dean wraps his arms around Castiel’s chest and stands up, lifting Castiel with him.
He carries Castiel into the shower after leaving his clothes in a heap on the floor. Castiel hasn’t had anyone bathe him since he was a little kid. Dean is so gentle, his big hands soaping up every inch of Castiel except where his patch is fixed. Castiel doesn’t speak. His eyes rove hungrily over Dean’s naked body, the huge hang of his cock between his legs. He’s not hard anymore but God, it’s still bigger than Zepp. He lets Castiel touch it, wet and warm against his fingers.
Big fingers card through his hair and carefully, slowly clean out his hole until Castiel’s pale skin is flushed pink and warm all over. Dean handles him like he’s something special but he doesn’t make Castiel feel like a child. He feels beautiful. And he smells amazing.
“I smell like you.”
Castiel smiles as Dean carries him back to the bed.
“I know.”
Dean lands them both on the bed. His mattress is so soft Castiel barely bounces.
“You know that’s an alpha thing, right?”
Dean lays him on his back and sinks down by his side.
“I want every inch of you to smell like me.”
Castiel glances at the clock. Three minutes.
“I want that too.” Castiel noses against his neck, open-mouthed for that scent.
“Come inside you, fill you up good and rub it on your skin until every alpha for ten miles knows whose knot you’re taking.”
A rush of slick spills out of him, hot between his legs.
“Gets you wet, doesn’t it?”
Dean hooks a hand under his leg, pushing him up at the knee. His legs rise up to his chest, his hole oozing out another rush. Castiel’s red all over with how exposed it makes him, how much it makes him want to spread his legs wider as Dean crawls down between his thighs.
“You’re so fucking pretty, Cas.”
Dean’s voice is soft, reverent. Castiel’s heart beats against his chest, unaccustomed to any attention to his body, let alone praise.
“Tight little hole, fuck.” Dean pushes his legs back more, spreading him wider.
“It’s flexing for me, you know that?”
“I, yeah,” Castiel moans. “I can feel it.”
“Want me inside so bad, don’t you?”
Dean’s fingers sink in easy, two of them pressing home. It sounds wet and Castiel whimpers, his hole clenching down around them.
“God you feel good inside.” Dean fucks him with his fingers, in and out, circling them around. It’s like scratching a place right next to an itch, good but not even close to what he needs.
“And you got a gorgeous little prick, Cas.”
Castiel’s dick throbs against his belly, the slim weight of it jumping when Dean’s slick-soaked fingers brush over it.
“Gonna suck you off later, get this pretty little cock in my mouth until you come for me.”
A bead of precome leaks out of him, smearing on his skin. Dean’s tongue chases it, licking flat against his skin. Dean’s groan vibrates against him.
“Please tell me that patch’s good to go, Cas.”
Three fingers sink into him, down to the knuckle.
“I think I’m gonna die if I don’t knot you, baby.”
Castiel’s hole flutters wildly, slick running thick. Baby. God, he could come just listening to Dean say it.
His stomach drops when he looks at the clock. It’s time.
He’s trembling all over, body bent awkwardly, Dean’s fingers inside him, the hot echo of his tongue against Castiel’s skin. He’s gonna be bad at it, he won’t feel good or he’ll do something wrong or God, maybe he’s already ruined himself with Zepp.
Dean’s hand splays over his chest.
“Don’t worry, Cas.” Dean eases his legs back down.
“Just do what I tell you.”
Dean hooks his arms under Castiel’s shoulders, lifting him up. Their chests press together as Dean kisses him, over and over until Castiel is dizzy and Dean’s leaning back against the headboard.
“I want to see you.”
He brings Castiel to straddle him. Castiel doesn’t know what to do with his hands until Dean takes them, closing his own over them and pressing them against either side of Castiel’s ass.
“Spread your legs and pull that pretty little hole open for my cock.”
Dean’s voice is deep and thick, a voice anyone would listen to. Castiel spreads himself open under Dean’s direction and his warm, alpha surety.
“That’s it.” Dean’s hands massage over his, kneading at his ass. He moves Castiel until the head of his cock brushes against Castiel’s hole.
“You’re gonna sink down real slow.”
Dean releases one of his hands and reaches behind Castiel, gripping his cock to hold it steady. Castiel can feel it throbbing against him, pressing at his hole without forcing in.
“You can do it, baby.”
Slicks leaks out of him, spilling onto Dean’s cock and Castiel eases back, his eyes going wide at the first breach of Dean inside him.
He’s huge.
“That’s it, Cas, let me in.”
Castiel strains, pushing himself open. Dean’s eyes are locked on his, his lips parted and licked wet.
“Love those little sounds you make,” Dean urges, nodding as Castiel lets himself whine at the stretch, grunts out the effort of taking Dean’s cock to the base. He’s got sweat beading on his forehead by the time he’s fully seated.
“See how hard you get me?” Dean spans his hands over Castiel’s hips, grinding him down. It feels like getting split open and put back together all at once.
“Dean,” Castiel moans, squirming under Dean’s hands. His skin runs hot and cold, goosebumps prickling up all over him.
“God, you feel so fucking good.”
Dean guides him up, just a few inches, the hot drag of Dean’s cock inside him making him cry out.
“Feel that, Cas?” Dean sinks him back down, Castiel’s slick oozing out around the base of Dean’s cock.
“That’s what your body’s made for.”
Castiel has never agreed more with a statement in his life. He lets Dean guide him up and down, his hole opening more and more with each thrust. God, it makes so much more noise than Castiel could have imagined, wet slaps and smacks, all of it playing filthy over the low growl coming from Dean’s chest.
“Take it like a fucking natural, baby.”
Dean’s thumbs press into his hipbones, rough and solid. Castiel tries to buck up into them, to bruise himself so he’ll have something to see later.
“Want you to come for me, Cas.” Dean releases his grip to guide one of Castiel’s hands onto his dick.
“Be a good boy and jerk that cute little dick off while you ride my cock.”
Castiel’s hand flies over his dick, jerking himself rough and fast, knowing he’s close. Every touch feels a hundred times more sensitive, the relentless stretch of Dean’s cock in his hole sending shivers through him. His mouth hangs open, heedless of what he looks like, whether he’s drooling on himself or mumbling a bunch of nonsense. All he can feel is his orgasm cresting up and Dean’s guttural, glorious stream of praise.
“Fucking perfect, Cas, perfect boy for me, perfect dirty little boy all for me, come for me, Cas, come on, milk that knot out of me, do it.”
Castiel feels tears in his eyes when he comes. His cock shoots its little load onto Dean’s stomach, a little pool of white above his bellybutton. His hole is clenching so hard Dean grits his teeth, cursing and fucking up into Castiel so hard the bed creaks beneath them.
“M’gonna fucking knot you Cas, m’so close.” Dean’s sweaty and straining under him, pulling Castiel down onto every thrust.
“Do it, oh,” Castiel moans, his words slurred as his body shudders through the last waves of his orgasm.
“Knot me, Dean, please, please, please.” Castiel’s begging like a bad porn and he loves it. He needs it.
“Feel it?” Dean pulls him down, hard.
The pressure in Castiel’s hole is insane. Dean fucks him in tight little thrusts, just enough to pull his knot out to strain against Castiel’s hole. Dean growls when he sinks home the last time, his knot popping in against Castiel’s dripping rim.
“You’re mine now, Cas, you got that?”
Castiel just nods, his body flooding with a thousand feelings, a thousand thoughts and sounds and colors and all of them just look like Dean.
“You don’t take any knot except mine,” Dean leans up, bending his knees to pull them as close together as he can, “and my dog’s.”
Castiel moans, his inner walls working furiously to milk at the fat knot inside him. Dean is so much bigger than Zepp, bigger than anything Castiel could have let himself dream about. The first flood of come into his hole shocks him, rushing out to fill him up.
“Oh, God, Dean.” Castiel’s voice is cracked, rising up on Dean’s name. His head tips back, some instinct telling him to give Dean his neck, his belly, all the vulnerable parts that Dean can take care of.
“Christ, I can see my cock in you.” Dean’s hand settles warm over his belly, pressing softly beneath his belly button.
Castiel looks down, his mouth falling open. The vague outline of Dean’s cock presses against his stomach, stretching him from the inside. His belly bulges with it, a slight swell where it’s normally flat.
Dean presses on it, his eyebrows drawing together.
“It doesn’t hurt, does it?”
“No,” Castiel answers quickly, shaking his head.
“It feels so good.”
And God it does. Castiel’s heard of knotting highs and other romance novel crap like that, but the euphoria washing over him is so real.
Dean’s face beams as he draws Castiel down for a kiss.
“Good thing you’re here all weekend.”
~
Part 3