angelspy, 2/5
Under (the) Cover(s), part two.
main header and part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
Chapter Four
After two months of no progress finding the hunter he needed, Castiel realized that he was going about his search the wrong way. He was finding hunters and questioning them about the main wards that kept angels from Earth. They were a secretive bunch, even among their own kind. No one could tell him anything, even if they would. Most of them didn’t even know the nature of the wards, much less who was guarding them. There were a few who did, but even under Castiel’s... persuasion... they couldn’t name the hunter who was in charge of it in North America.
The wards had been erected nearly thirty years ago when the angels’ failed coup had finally crumbled. It stood to reason that the hunters who guarded the wards now were the ones who’d helped build them then. It was a direct solution to his problem, but it presented its own challenges. Castiel realized the flaw in his plan. To angels, all hunters were more or less the same. They couldn’t tell one from another except by the most obvious of physical differences. They didn’t know which hunters were more important than others, which stood against them time and time again.
Angels wouldn’t know that, but hunters would.
Castiel was relieved that he could focus on his mission, that he might finally be making progress. After his experience with Dean, he couldn’t focus at all. His grace hurt, ached for completion. He’d had Dean in a human way, but he wanted - needed - to be with him as angels were with each other. It was impossible, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. Dean couldn’t go to Heaven, and Castiel couldn’t reveal his angel nature on Earth. It was a bond unfulfilled.
Angels didn’t sleep, so Castiel couldn’t say that Dean haunted his dreams. He invaded his waking thoughts. Every time his attention strayed from the task at hand, Dean was there. He saw him around street corners, when he walked past diners, and whenever he hunted, some part of him wished Dean would arrive as he did the second time they’d met.
Dean was no stranger to casual sex. He’d grown up on the road and never stayed in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone other than family. After Sam had graduated high school, they’d never stayed in a place longer than a week. The women and men he met at bars were fun for a night, but come morning he put them out of his mind. He’d known sleeping with a hunter would be different. There was a connection there, a link to a community that dissolved some of his anonymity.
But this was different, even more different than sleeping with another hunter. He could not get Castiel out of his mind. He hadn’t wanted to run out on him so quickly after they’d had sex. If he hadn’t had to worry about the rugaru, he could have taken his time. He could have spent the day in bed with Cas, gone a few more rounds before saying goodbye. It had been intense, exhilarating. He could almost believe that Cas was lying when he said that he’d never been with a guy. But why would he lie about it? He’d been slow to move at first, but once they got into the spirit of things, he hadn’t had any hesitation. Dean had been delightfully sore for the rest of the day.
He wanted to see him again, and it scared him. Dean didn’t do relationships. He didn’t meet parents and he didn’t spend all day thinking about the color of someone’s eyes, no matter how blue they might be. But he did want to see Cas again, wanted to feel his hands on him, his mouth touching his. It had been two weeks and he’d barely thought of anything since. Dean couldn’t explain it - he felt a connection to Cas, felt something binding them together.
Sam was with Loki while Dean went out to get breakfast. Walking in on his brother and the Trickster in bed was not something he wanted to experience, so he would kill time for another hour to make sure they were fully dressed by the time he got back. He was sitting in the diner, trying to admire the waitress and failing. She was small and thin, with rich dark hair and pale blue eyes. All Dean could think was that Cas’s were bluer. He groaned when he caught himself, but it did nothing to vanquish the thought. “Anything else, hon?” she asked him as she brought a refill for his coffee. She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, but Dean was uninterested. Normally, he’d be smiling back at her, imagining her little gasp as he slid her bra off her shoulder as he surely would later that day. Now, he just sipped his coffee and pretended not to see her number scrawled at the bottom of the check. Cas had broken him.
Dean’s phone rang and looked at the unfamiliar number for just a moment before answering.
“Dean,” Cas said. Dean felt a shiver run through him at hearing Cas say his name. He’d wondered if he would hear from him, but it had seemed unlikely it would be so soon.
“Cas, hey,” he breathed, realized he sounded like a breathless chick, and cleared his throat. “What’s up?”
“I… Demons, many of them.”
All of the good, warm feelings he’d been coasting on came to a sudden halt. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I am unhurt, but I could use some assistance.”
Of course he could - he was dealing with demons, dammit! Dean felt anger clouding his vision and fought it down. After what they’d done to Sammy, they deserved to be ripped to shreds, all of them, but losing his cool wouldn’t help anyone. “Do they know you’re there? Can you get out?”
“I have not confronted them,” Cas told him and Dean was relieved. Dean and Sam had the only demon-killing knife, and he doubted Cas had been around in the hunting world long enough to rattle off an exorcism. “I thought it might be best to wait for your input.”
“Stay right there and I’m on my way.”
“Dean, that is unnecessary. I can-“
“They’re demons, Cas! This isn’t some spirit, or skinwalker, or ghoul- You’re in over your head.” He hastily paid the bill and hurried back to the Impala. “Where are you?” He had to swing by the motel and pick up Sam, then haul ass to get to Cas. There was no time to lose; if something happened to him-
“Chicago. I will wait for your arrival,” he said before the line went dead. Dean couldn’t ask for more details, couldn’t ask how many demons Cas considered a lot. More than two was too much trouble for the average hunter. Dean didn’t start sweating it until there were more than ten, but that was because they had the knife and they’d killed so many already with it.
Sam was thankfully dressed, even if his skin was suspiciously flushed, when Dean went to pick him up. “Where’s Loki?” he asked when he didn’t see him anywhere in the room.
“There’s some trouble with the other pagan gods. He said he’d be gone for a while.” For once, Dean might have needed his help, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. “What’s up with you?”
Dean gathered up his bags and grabbed the hex bags. “Cas ran into some demons. We need to help him.”
Sam looked surprised. “Cas called you?” he wondered aloud but didn’t otherwise comment. They didn’t have much to pack and within a minute were out the door.
“You have the knife, right?” Dean asked as the engine roared to life.
Sam exhaled loudly and looked straight ahead. “Dean, I always have the knife. I’m not doing that anymore.”
Dean wondered what the hell his brother was on about before the pieces clicked together and he cringed. “Shit, Sam, that’s not what I meant. I know you’re not… doing that. I’m just worried about Cas.”
The hostility in Sam eased away, but he still looked unhappy. “Did he say how many he was dealing with?”
“No. I didn’t get a chance to ask. He’s in Chicago.” Which was a good five hours away, even with Dean’s driving. Sam loaded the mobile internet on his phone and started typing. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for demonic signs in Chicago. If he’s there on a hunt, we can follow the trail, too.” Sam paused and looked over at Dean, for the first time grinning again. “You’ve got it bad. At the first sign of danger for him, you completely lose your head.”
Dean flushed and didn’t answer. It was painfully true. He should have thought of it first. This wasn’t like him. Dean was good at handling stress and keeping his cool. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. As soon as he got Cas safe, he could deal with all this shit. Maybe they could sleep together again, let Dean get it out of his system. He could only have sex with someone so many times before it got boring.
He thought it over and decided it was a solid plan.
Castiel watched the demon enter the warehouse and scowled in distaste. These were the most wretched creatures. They were the ones made to spite God. He despised even looking at them.
He’d gone to Chicago on the report of bodies being found viciously mauled. It would attract any hunter within the state at least. He’d suspected a black dog, but upon actually arriving saw the area crawling with hellhounds. Demons were almost certainly nearby and he’d trailed a pack of the hounds back to a warehouse. A demon had opened the door to allow them entry and he’d gotten a glimpse inside, seen at least three score demons. That was pushing it, even for an angel. He’d called Dean for assistance an hour ago and waited in the shadows for him to arrive.
Castiel had agreed to wait for help to arrive, but that plan might be useless. He had the feeling that one of the demons had spotted him. He wasn’t immediately pursued, but she had looked directly at him. There were three on patrol near the door and front of the building, looking like nothing more than homeless beggars to anyone unsuspecting. He followed with his eyes the one in the body of an older woman, watched her shuffle by the entrance and then lean up against a dumpster. His eyes flicked back to the other two - other one, he saw with alarm. The third guard had vanished.
Castiel sensed the blow a moment before it would have landed and was able to dodge out of the way. He turned to see a blond man lunging for him, his eyes the shiny black of the possessed. “Do you really think you can sneak up on us?” he hissed and swung a large knife into his arm. Castiel was an angel - such attacks were useless against him. The blade embedded into his flesh, but he wasn’t fazed. The demon took a step back, confusion all over his face, and Castiel seized his chance. He brought his hand to his head and flared his grace, shining heavenly light into the human and wiping the demon from existence. The body crumbled to the floor, the demon having long since killed the host.
“Angel,” the second demon, a young blonde woman, hissed and sprinted away. The older woman followed at her heels and they disappeared into the building. Castiel could not let them go. If they alerted the demons to his presence-
He caught up with the older woman and quickly disposed of the demon inside her. Her body was likewise empty, the human long gone. He hurried after the one in the young body and tackled her to the ground just as she reached the doors to the main rooms. She shrieked, but Castiel covered her mouth was his hand as he let his grace kill the demon. He let her body fall to the floor before noticing that she was still breathing. He was surprised - demons enjoyed killing the hosts’ bodies quickly so the humans trapped inside would have no hope of freedom. He knelt over her to examine her injuries, which luckily for her were not serious. His head snapped up as he heard commotion from the hallway he’d just run through and the footsteps of many people. More demons, and now they knew he was there. He hefted the girl into his arms like she weighed a feather and turned to go deeper into the building.
They were definitely demons, and they definitely knew he was there. They must have found the bodies of the other two and were now looking for the intruder. Castiel could flee. He hadn’t used the swiftness of an angel’s flight since he had arrived due to fear of being revealed, but now that looked likely with either option - fleeing or the demons finding him.
But there was another factor... he had saved this woman and he didn’t want to leave her behind. He wished he could just flee with her, but humans weren’t meant to travel as angels did... her bones and flesh could crumble into dust.
There was a glowing exit sign up ahead and Castiel sprinted towards it. He opened the door and stepped through, but it did not lead to an exit. Instead, there was a long hallway with three doors. The first was empty, the second packed full with boxes, but the third was acceptable. Empty boxes were stacked on one side, and a dusty shelf on the other. Castiel set the woman on the floor and quickly locked the door. He found a knife on the girl and made a cut on his arm, just enough to get a good amount of blood. The design he drew was one he hadn’t practiced since he was first placed in the garrison, but it was an easy one. The humans used something similar they called a ‘devil’s trap’ but it was more primitive. That done, he didn’t have to worry about the demons following him. The room was protected, and now he would wait.
It was another hour before the woman woke up, groaning and clutching her side. Castiel knew the problem; he had seen evidence when he’d examined her for injuries.
“One of your ribs is cracked,” he informed her.
The woman startled and spun to face him, but only looked confused when she saw him. Her eyes flickered to the door and studied the sigil he’d drawn. “Are you a hunter?”
He nodded. “I... exorcised the demon that was controlling you.”
She bit her lip. “Thanks,” she said and sat up so that she was no longer lying on the floor. “I’m a hunter, too. Jo Harvelle.”
“I am Castiel,” he introduced himself.
“Casti-Not Dean’s Cas?” she asked, smiling secretively.
“You are acquainted with Dean Winchester?” Which was consistent with what he had told him when he’d said he was well-known. He could find no reason that she would be aware of Castiel, nor his own relationship with Dean.
She laughed until it pained her ribs. “More than acquainted. He’s like my big brother. Our families were really tight when I was a kid. Sam and I are about the same age, so Dean used to watch us while our parents talked about hunts.”
Castiel processed that. It still didn’t explain her knowledge of him. “Dean told you about me?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, Sam did. You and Dean... got pretty close, according to Sam.”
“We slept together,” he told her and she choked on a laugh.
“Wow, you don’t go for subtlety,” she told him. “I figured as much. Dean sounds like he’s pretty smitten though.”
Castiel studied her, looking for her meaning. “It is my understanding that the encounter was without commitment.”
Jo grinned at him. “We’ll see,” she said.
Jo drifted off to sleep shortly after and Castiel thought about her words. She clearly knew Dean well, but what she said was in direct disagreement with what he had observed from Dean himself. He turned it over and over in his head, but couldn’t find any straight answers. Humans were hard to understand.
“How long was I out?” she asked when she woke up.
“Three hours.” And twenty-seven minutes, but he’d found humans didn’t like such precise answers.
“What are you doing here anyway? I was after the corpses disappearing from the morgue.”
“I believed I was hunting a black dog,” he answered. “I have never seen a hellhound before,” he admitted.
She snorted. “Don’t feel bad. Most people who see hellhounds don’t live to tell about it. The demons got me my first day here... I don’t know how long it’s been.”
Castiel was suddenly aware of a new concern. “How much do you remember?” If she recalled him using his angel powers, she was doing a good job of hiding it.
She shook her head. “The first few hours after it got inside me. After that, it was like I fell asleep. There were bits and pieces, but not enough to know what they’re up to.”
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief.
“What about you? What got you into hunting?”
“I am doing this for my family,” he said honestly and hoped she would misunderstand. Humans frequently applied his words to their own expectations. It allowed him to be honest when he answered questions. The only lie he’d told since arriving on earth was his cover story about selling ad space on AM radio.
She nodded sympathetically. “Me, too. My dad was killed by angels when I was about a year old. I took up hunting to honor him.”
Castiel did not want that line of conversation to progress any further. The war against the humans was a sore topic among angels in heaven, just as it was among humans on Earth. “I am sorry for your loss.”
She smiled humorlessly. “I don’t remember much about him. My mom has this old picture of them, before I was born. She’d show it to me when I was a little girl and tell me about him being a hero.” She stopped for a moment and wiped at her dry eyes. “What does your dad do? Is he in this life, too?”
“I never met my father in person.”
“Oh.” She cringed. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Castiel wondered why she was remorseful. “You were not aware.” He heard a sound and cocked his head toward the noise.
"What is it? Are the demons coming?"
“No. Dean is here,” he announced.
Chapter Five
Dean had never seen so many demons in one place at one time. They were everywhere - it was like fighting a hydra, one went down and two more sprung up in its place.
They’d killed at least thirty and there looked to be no end to them. Dean’s brow was beaded with sweat and his arms ached from swinging the knife. He hoped Cas wasn’t caught up in this shit, but he had a bad feeling that he was. When they’d hit Chicago, the supernatural trail had been easy enough to follow. It eventually led them to a warehouse crawling with demons. He hadn’t wanted a frontal assault, but they’d been spotted and had no choice but to fight for their lives.
Sam was exorcising and dousing them with holy water while Dean was wielding the knife. It was effective, but slow. It would only take one good hit from a demon to bring them down.
It didn’t happen. The last demon fell with a thud and a crackle of power as the knife worked its magic. Dean watched it fall and then looked around the room at the dead bodies lying everywhere. There had to be at least fifty of them. His arms ached and he was covered in blood not his own. An ordinary hunter wouldn’t have been able to pull it off, but Dean hadn’t been ordinary in a long time. Sam had his demon blood to make him immune to the demons’ powers, and Dean had his own protection.
“Dean,” Cas said and it was music to his ears. Cas was standing at one of the side entrances to the main room of the warehouse looking completely unruffled.
It wasn’t natural... “Christo,” he tested, but Cas just looked at him. Not possessed then, and that was a relief. “Are you okay?” he asked to be sure.
“I am unharmed. I secured one of the smaller rooms for refuge.”
So he ran and hid, thank God. There was nothing wrong with fleeing if a person didn’t have the tools to fight. “Are there any others?” he asked.
“I exorcised some of the demons, but I believe that you have killed most of them.” He looked at the heap of dead bodies flatly. “Come, we should go before the police arrive.”
Dean winced and tried not to think about the news once the massacre was discovered. Those who didn’t hunt couldn’t tell the difference between a supernatural slaying and a murder. He cast an eye back at Sam who was very deliberately not looking at the demon blood oozing onto the floor.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed. “I parked out front.”
“Wait,” Castiel said and turned back the way he came. Dean followed behind and after a moment, Sam behind him. There were at least ten still bodies in the hallway Cas chose. Those must have been the bodies of the demons he had exorcised. He reevaluated his opinion of Cas’s skills... exorcising that many demons took work. Of course, there was no telling how many he had faced at one time.
Cas led the way to the door in the back and stopped. “I left her in here,” he explained unhelpfully.
“Who?” Dean started, but the words died as the door opened. “Jo?!”
It was a tense car ride to the Roadhouse. Dean needed to take Jo back to her mother. She was in the backseat, wincing with every bump in the road. Dean knew from firsthand experience that cracked ribs were a pain. He was angry that she got herself in trouble but was so thankful that she was alive he’d let her listen to REO Speedwagon. Damnit, he hadn’t even known she was missing!
Cas was sitting beside her in the backseat, looking completely unruffled - at least about the demons. His eyes locked with Dean’s in the rearview mirror, causing Dean to drift into the wrong lane more than once. Sam rode shotgun, shoulders tense and eyes staring out the window. It had to have been hard on him - being around so much demon blood.
That many demons in one place was scary as fuck. They’d lain low when the angels had arrived, their numbers greatly diminished in the human-angel-demon free for all that had been waged in the late seventies...
He thought of Jo being held by them, possessed by them, and shuddered. They’d done the math for the last day she remembered to now, and counted off nine days of being possessed. She said she was okay, but who knew what had happened to her... God. It had been bad enough when they’d taken Sam, but they wanted him alive. It was only lucky fate that Cas had been able to save Jo. There in the thick of it, he hadn’t even been looking at the demons he’d stabbed - if she’d still been possessed, if she’d been in the line to fight him --
The Impala rolled to a stop in the gravel parking lot. No one made a move to get out. Sam continued staring into space and Dean worried about him. Jo was mentally preparing herself to face her upset mother - Dean worried about her, too. It was tough having family, no matter how much better it was than the alternative. Cas was staring at Dean in the rearview mirror, intense blue eyes never moving from the reflection of Dean’s face. Dean wanted to lean back and kiss him, but the timing wasn’t right. He’d get Jo inside, explain things to Ellen. They’d put the news out about the demons’ gathering and see what turned up. He hoped it wouldn’t come to another war... If they showed the slightest weakness, if the angels found a way in through the wards or were able to tear them down-
“Joanna Beth!” Ellen called as she hurried from the bar. She met Jo just as her daughter was shutting the car door and pulled her into her arms. “Don’t you ever worry me like that again!”
“Easy, Mom,” she pleaded and returned the hug. Jo had been hunting for a while now, and she’d gotten into her own share of scrapes, but this had been the closest call she’d ever had. Not only had Cas been able to exorcise her without harming Jo, but to be possessed that long and still walk away from it mostly unscathed...
Ellen wiped away tears and then turned to Dean. She hugged him tight and he could feel her trembling against him. “Thank you for bringing her home,” she whispered in his ear.
“Any time,” he promised. He pulled away and motioned to Cas who’d just removed himself from the backseat. “This is Cas, he’s the one who saved her.”
Ellen pulled him into a hug, too, and it was funny to watch. Cas stood there, rigid, and looking like he didn’t have any idea what he was supposed to do. She eventually released him and then patted him on the back. “I can’t thank you enough,” she told him somberly.
Cas acknowledged it with a nod. “I am pleased that I could be of assistance.”
Ellen smiled at him and then gestured to the Roadhouse. “Well, why are we all standing out here? Come in and have a drink.” She looked back at the car to Sam who still sat silently in the passenger seat. “Sam, honey, are you all right?”
Sam nodded but didn’t otherwise answer. Ellen shot a worried frown in Dean’s direction, and he slowly shook his head. “Demon blood,” he mouthed silently and watched as comprehension dawned on her face.
“Come inside and have a drink, Sam,” she offered in a motherly tone.
Sam focused back on the present and opened the car door. He unfolded his long legs from the seat and Dean noticed the blood staining his jeans for the first time. “I’ll pass on the drink, but if I could get a shower?” He looked like a kicked puppy, and Ellen didn’t waste a second offering him his usual room when they were in town.
Dean looked at the blood still on his jeans, knowing that Sam could smell it and it must have been getting under his skin. “Sam,” he started, but Sam just shook his head and grabbed his bag.
“I’ll see you later, Dean, guys,” he said and walked back toward the saloon.
“He’ll be okay,” Ellen told him as they watched him go. “He didn’t drink any of it,” she said, though there was no way she could have known that. She’d always had faith in them.
“I hope so,” Jo said and winced again at her sore ribs.
“C’mon, let’s get you fixed up,” Ellen told her daughter. She looked over her shoulder at Dean and Cas. “Don’t just stand there, get inside.”
Dean locked up the car and slung an arm over Cas’s shoulders without thinking about it. He steered him toward the Roadhouse and grunted in appreciation when he saw that it was closed. Just the regulars would be there. That would give them a good opportunity to get the word out about the demons.
He’d pushed Cas down in an empty chair and was pulling out his own next to him when he noticed how quiet his companion was. “Are you okay?” he asked. Physically, Dean knew he was fine, but that must have been an ordeal for a newbie hunter.
“I am concerned by the number of demons we encountered earlier,” Cas admitted. “It seems most unusual.”
Dean scoffed. “No kidding.” Ellen handed him his beer and then set one on the bar in front of Cas. He looked at it curiously before taking a sip and then draining it one long gulp. Dean laughed a little. Cas was so weird sometimes. “No,” he continued. “Demons do their best work in stealth. We hardly ever find more than two together. Nothing like today.”
“I fear that some escaped,” Cas told him. “When I arrived, I saw evidence that not all were inside the buildings. And the hellhounds-“
“Hellhounds,” Dean breathed. “Jesus.”
Cas looked like he was going to continue, but stopped as Ellen approached with some other hunters. “Hey, Rufus, Travis,” Dean greeted.
“Dean,” Travis said as he clapped him on the back. “Who’s this?” he asked with a nod to Cas.
“This is Castiel -“ he broke off as he suddenly realized that he didn’t know something very important. “What is your last name?” he asked his friend.
Cas blinked slowly. “Please call me, ‘Castiel,’” he requested. “I prefer to keep my family out of this.”
Dean shrugged. “Fair enough. Guys, this is Cas.” He motioned to the empty chairs beside them. “Take a seat, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Later, after supper, Dean brought Cas up to the room he’d stayed in when he was younger. He’d lived there for months after his mom died, looking after Sam and Jo by day and crying into his pillow at night. He hadn’t been back for a year or two, but Ellen kept the place clean - there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. The room was small, the bed just big enough for him. He sat down on the mattress and closed his eyes. Just a second later, he felt the mattress dip as Cas joined him.
Cas leaned against him and nuzzled his neck, kissed the spot below his ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he told him in that gruff voice that sent heat straight to Dean’s cock. Dean turned his chin up so he could feel that rough stubble against his throat and leaned into Cas’s shoulder.
“God, me, too,” he admitted. He turned his head so that their lips met and sank into the bliss of the kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. Cas’s mouth was hot under his, his tongue already brushing against Dean’s own lips and slipping inside. “Oh, Cas,” he moaned when they broke the kiss. He let his forehead rest against Cas’s own, felt their breaths mingle in the space between. “We can’t do this,” he said.
Cas was taken aback. “Why not?” he growled.
Dean snorted. “Because Jo and Ellen are just a few rooms over and I don’t think I can keep myself quiet.” He stood up and tugged Cas up as well. “C’mon,” he coaxed and led him back outside. The air was unseasonably warm, but Dean was glad. He was about to lose his clothes and didn’t want the mood ruined.
He led the way to the Impala and stood beside the backseat door. “Not as much room,” he admitted bashfully, “But more privacy than we had inside.” Cas looked at the windows of the Roadhouse, some of them containing guests who were paranoid and aware of their surroundings. He looked doubtful and Dean grinned. “Trust me.”
Cas started to walk forward to the backseat, but Dean put his hand against his chest. The warmth underneath spread to his palm and he only reluctantly pulled it away. “It’ll be easier if we do it out here.” With that, he reached out and tugged at Cas’s coat. It slipped from his shoulders easily and he unknotted the tie next. The jacket was next and then he unbuttoned the dress shirt, leaving it open but still on him. Dean ducked his head down and licked a trail from his navel to his collar bone, grinning when he felt Cas’s breath hitch.
Dean took a moment to admire Cas’s lean frame, the nice muscle definition he kept hidden beneath that suit and coat. Beautiful, he thought but couldn’t say it. He was unmistakably a new hunter - he had no visible scars, no burn or bite marks. If he stayed alive long enough, he’d acquire his own set, his skin would become more like Dean’s.
Dean grinned at him as he felt Cas move closer for another kiss. Their mouths met as Dean’s hand snaked downward to unfasten his belt and unbutton his pants. Cas was rock hard beneath his hand as he slipped inside his underwear. Cas moaned into the kiss, his hands moving desperately at Dean’s back. He pulled away long enough to pull Dean’s own shirt over his head and then they tumbled backwards against the Impala.
Cas’s hand slipped into Dean’s jeans and then beneath his underwear. He gripped his cock in just the right pressure, just the right squeeze that Dean gasped into his mouth and fell flatly against the Impala. Cas covered him with his own body, removing his hand as it circled to his backside and his thigh came to rest between Dean’s legs. They rocked together, mouths locked and hands sliding beneath clothes.
Dean caught sight of movement in one of the windows and jerked his head back to the car. “Let’s get inside,” he whispered and finished tugging off his own clothes. Cas stepped out of his pants and stood naked before him. All either of them wore were amulets and Dean took a moment to enjoy the sight before opening the door and stepping backwards into the car. Cas climbed in after him and the door clicked in place loudly in the silent air.
Dean stretched out on the seat, his body warm and sweating in the slightly chilled air. Their breath fogged the windows and soon it would be obvious to anyone who looked what they were up to, even if they couldn’t be seen. Cas settled between his legs and dipped his head so that he could lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the head. Dean moaned and arched his back, felt himself impossibly stiff beneath Cas’s touches. He’d been wanting this again, thinking so much about Cas that he just wanted to fuck, to get it over with so they could do it again.
Cas must have been reading his mind because after a few more licks with his tongue he pulled away and set one hot hand against Dean’s hip. “Turn over,” he ordered and Dean hastened to comply. The anticipation that he was about to get what he wanted was heady and almost as powerful as the touches themselves had been.
“The rubber and lube’re in my pocket,” he told him with a wave to his discarded jeans. Cas retrieved them and Dean heard the sound of the tube being opened. It sent more heat straight to his cock and he ground his hips against the seat. He jerked as a slick, cold finger pressed against him and slipped inside. “Shit! A little warning next time,” he groused.
“My apologies,” Cas said, but didn’t sound very remorseful. He pushed his finger deeper, rubbing against Dean from the inside and stretching him open. Dean was panting for breath when Cas slipped the second inside, wincing at the stretch as it sank to the knuckle. He scissored his fingers with one hand and the other moved to his shoulder blades to press Dean flat against the seat. Dean writhed against the sensation, groaning when Cas brushed against his prostate and quickly moved away. Even with the hand against his back, Dean was slowly inching across the seat, so by the time Cas withdrew his fingers, Dean was halfway pressed against the door.
Cas leaned over him, nudged one of Dean’s legs off of the seat to spread him further. He brushed his lips over Dean’s ear, the stubble of his jaw tickling over the lobe. “I’m going to take you now,” he told him, voice rough with desire.
“God, yes,” Dean panted and braced himself as Cas pushed inside him with one hard thrust. He writhed upward, body half-rising to fall against the door. Cas gripped his hips tightly as he pulled out and thrust forward with the same deep strokes. “Cas,” he moaned and his hands flailed for something to grab, something to squeeze as he was taken, possessed by the man behind him. His hands landed on the door handle and without thinking he grabbed it. His groan of satisfaction turned into a shout of dismay as his weight pushed the door open and he spilled out.
Blood rushed to his head as he fell forward and he would have tumbled face-first into the parking lot, except that Cas was still holding his hips to the seat, still thrusting in and out of him with that same steady rhythm. “Cas...” he moaned, hands scrambling to grip something. It was like being fucked while falling. Each thrust sent him forward, the ground all he could see moving towards his face, and then Cas pulled back and he inched backwards into the car only for the process to repeat. He was out of control, had no physical means to influence the situation, could only lie there and take it.
Dean’s chest was being rubbed raw against the seat, his head still dizzy from hanging out of the car. The angle Cas hit as he fucked into him was deep, but it wasn’t quite right, didn’t hit him in just the right spot. He rocked back, trying to adjust, but Cas held him firm. His dick was hard and pressed tight between his stomach and the seat and he had no means to give it any friction. It was incredibly hot, but at the same time-
“This is unsatisfying,” Cas panted and stilled while inside him.
“A little bit,” Dean admitted. He wasn’t prepared for Cas to slide out of him completely and rock back on his heels. Dean moaned at the loss and started to sit up when Cas opened the door and stepped outside. “Hey, where are you going-“
The answer was quickly evident when Cas walked around to his side of the car and reached for him. He pulled Dean out of the car and walked him around to the back, bent him over the trunk and slid inside with one easy motion. Dean groaned as he bottomed out, hands moving against the Impala as he rocked forward with every thrust from Castiel’s hips. Cas brought his left arm up to hold Dean against the trunk and the other circled around to grab his throbbing cock. He squeezed in time with his thrusts and Dean could see his orgasm coming from a mile away.
“Cas, ah, Cas!” he shouted as he spilled into Cas’s hand. Cas grunted as Dean tightened around him, stilled inside of him until he could resume his motions. Dean coasted on his high, aware he was bent over his car in a parking lot where anyone could see them, but not able to care. He could feel each deep thrust from Cas, could hear his pants for breath as he loomed closer and closer to his own release. The thrusts grew quicker and shorter, stabbing Dean directly against his prostate and stirring his interest again. He had minimal leverage but was able to pull his right leg to the side, allowing Cas to slide in deeper. It did the trick and soon he was groaning as he pushed as deep as he could into him and stilled, body shaking and arms pressing Dean tight against the car. He felt impossibly hot against Dean’s back, and Dean could have sworn he’d seen light dance in front of his eyes from the intensity of it. He was still breathing hard from his own release and pressed his cheek against the trunk, savoring the feel of the cool metal against his overheated skin.
Dean felt a rush of warm sensation in him and ground out a little “oh” even as Cas lazily continued to thrust his hips into him. He released his tight grip, but made no move to pull away. Cas was like a furnace against his back. He savored the feel of his warmth and his breath ghosting over his skin. They couldn’t stay like that long. The air was getting colder, and they were standing naked in public. Then there was the other problem... “Hey, Cas, I think the condom broke.”
Cas grunted, but leaned back and rested one hand on Dean’s hip as he pulled out. Dean straightened, savoring the feel of well-used muscles in his arms and legs. He could still feel Cas inside him and it sent another pulse to his dick. He was too tired for another round, wanted to crawl into bed and get some actual sleep. He looked back at Cas and, sure enough, the condom had split down the middle. He could feel semen trickling from him and added “shower” to his list of necessities.
“I am sorry,” Cas told him, peeling off the broken condom and looking uncertain.
“It’s not your fault,” Dean chuckled as he gathered up their clothes and tossed Cas’s to him. “I’m clean,” he promised.
“I do not have any sexually transmitted diseases,” Cas assured him. He started dressing.
“Then we won’t worry about it,” Dean laughed it off and hastily pulled on his own clothes, body pleasantly aching from their exertions. He was covered in sweat, and the air had become colder... He wanted to crawl into a warm bed with Cas.
He wiped away the come on the Impala and led Cas back to the Roadhouse. Cas was a warm weight against his back as he drifted off to sleep.
Castiel rose and dressed while Dean was still awake. He hadn’t slept of course, merely stared at the man sleeping beside him, wondering what had overcome him. He was on a mission, he didn’t have time for love affairs. He remembered what they had done together the night before and his blood pounded in his veins.
To his surprise, a few hunters were already awake and eating downstairs. Dean had explained that the primary function of the establishment was to sell alcoholic beverages, but Ellen also put hunters up for the night when they were in the area. He recognized Rufus Turner from their meeting last night, but the man didn’t seem very friendly towards him.
Castiel took a seat at the bar and only a moment later Jo appeared with a cup of coffee for him. “I do not -“
“Easy, big guy, it’s on me. You saved my life, you know.” She grinned at him. He thanked her and sipped the drink, aware of the hot liquid running down his throat and into his stomach. He didn’t need food or drink, but coffee was tolerable - he enjoyed the smell.
An older hunter sitting nearby raised his head at that and moved to join Castiel. “We all heard ‘bout what you did for little Jo.” He was nursing his own steaming mug and looked like he’d been imbibing too much alcohol the night before. “We don’t like newcomers getting in our business, but it’s easy to forget we were all new once.”
Castiel nodded. He’d had his own share of troubles persuading other hunters to talk to him.
“Ellen’s been in hunting for a long time, and she likes ya, so we’ll give you a chance.”
“I am grateful,” he said. It would make his task that much easier.
The man laughed. “Young’uns like you... I was born into this life, like a few of us others. It’s a hard thing to do - accept that other people can be good, too. Hell, maybe even better.” He gestured to the shelf behind the bar where a photograph of Ellen and blonde woman was on display. “See her? That’s Mary Campbell. Campbells were hunters for a helluva long time. I knew her daddy, back in the day. Lord, did that man know his creepy crawlies. Stubborn sonuvabitch, though. Never wanted any other hunters around.”
Castiel looked at the photograph, studied the smile the woman was giving the camera. There was something familiar about her, but he didn’t know what it could be. He felt drawn to her, like she could be the answer to his problems. “Where is Mary now?” he wondered aloud, curious about this connection he felt to her.
“Dead,” the hunter said somberly. He shook his head. “Damn shame, it was. Got on the wrong side of the angels.” He snorted and continued, “Not that those SOBs have good sides.” He looked fondly at the photograph of Mary and Ellen again. “Still, she was an absolute gem. Gave everyone something to squawk about when she left huntin’ to get married.” He laughed. “She came back though, they always do. Once you’re in, there’s no gettin’ out of this life. And God knows her husband saved us all.”
Castiel didn’t let himself react. He slid his eyes over to look at the man who was still fondly remembering Mary. “What do you mean?”
The hunter stiffened, then looked around. “Ah, you’re all right,” he deemed. “We don’t talk about this out in the open, but we know you’re one of us now. Mary’s husband was the one who helped kick the angels off Earth.” He chuckled. “He got together with some other old-timers and - BAM - beamed them right off the starship, en masse.”
Mary Campbell’s husband. Castiel’s hand tightened slowly around his glass.
Chapter Five-and-a-half: S&G Sidestory
Sam peeled off his bloody clothes and tied them up in a plastic bag as quickly as possible. The smell had been taunting him the whole drive home, and before that, when the blood had been in person...
He was not going down that road again, he told himself. But, oh, how it had called to him, how from the smell alone he could taste it on his tongue, the warm pulse of it against the back of his throat. His body shuddered with want even as he felt sick to his stomach and wanted to vomit.
“Never again,” he whispered out loud and looked at himself in the mirror. He stashed the clothes in a corner where he wouldn’t see them and started up the water for his shower. At this time of year, it always took a minute to get warm and he wanted his water hot enough to make his skin burn unpleasantly. He wanted to wash away the filth and the grime, and the desire, and the longing-
It was vile and disgusting, and he hadn’t seen a demon in so long. In that warehouse, watching the spray of blood as the knife slit throats, he could hear their heartbeats, feel them resonating with his own.
Steam rolled out from the shower and he stepped under the hot spray. The water was uncomfortably hot, but Sam wouldn’t have it any other way. He lathered his hands with soap and rubbed them into skin, fingernails dragging over flakes of blood and sending them down the drain. Once he was satisfied he was clean, he stood under the spray and let the water rain down on his skin.
A hand touched his hip and Sam stiffened before relaxing. He’d know that touch anywhere. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Europe?” he asked, still not looking at his companion.
“You’re upset,” Loki explained, body now flush against Sam’s own. His hand wrapped around his hips and then slithered to take Sam’s cock in a slippery grip. Sam snorted at the scent of French-vanilla body wash that was permeating the air now.
“It was a tough day,” Sam said between gasps. Blood rushed to his cock and he felt himself growing harder under Loki’s touch. “There were a lot of demons,” he added, because Loki knew the truth and Sam knew he could trust him. The Trickster sighed against his shoulder and rubbed his thumb against the head of his cock, sending shoots of pleasure straight through him.
“You did fine,” Loki told him, one hand on his cock and the other kneading his ass. Sam leaned forward, both hands against the wall and ass in the air. He could barely believe that he’d slept with him just that morning. It felt like they’d been apart much longer.
A warm soapy finger breached him and he sighed into the touch. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do,” Loki countered. “I know you.”
Sam smiled as love tightened in his chest. That was the kind of faith his family had always had in him, something he never expected to be able to find elsewhere. “Harder,” he said and widened his stance. Loki pushed in with two more fingers and Sam rocked his hips back against the touch.
Groaning under the sensation, he closed his eyes and just let himself feel. The water was still hot against him although it had cooled some. Loki’s fingers were deep inside him, stretching him open and no doubt making him smell like French-vanilla for the rest of the night. The other hand on his cock was holding him, fingers flexing but no longer applying any real pressure. He rocked into it, but Loki just chuckled in his ear. “Patience, Sammy,” he laughed as he removed his fingers. He felt the hard pressure of Loki’s cock against him, and then the delicious burn as he pushed inside.
Once he was all the way in, he stopped, chest pressed tight against Sam’s back. He could feel the fine tremors that wracked him as he struggled to stay still. Water ran between them, slicked Sam’s back against Loki and he could feel the slick slide of flesh against flesh. “You okay?” Loki asked him.
Sam nodded. Water soaked his hair and flowed into his eyes, forcing them closed. “Yeah,” he moaned. “Move already.”
“Bossy little thing,” Loki laughed, pulling back only to snap his hips forward again. Sam groaned and leaned closer to the wall, wet hands sliding against the tile and struggling to get a grip. Loki set up an easy rhythm, hitting him at just that right angle that had him panting for breath and rocking back against him.
Loki’s hand tightened on his cock, fingernail dragging lightly against the head, and Sam came with a cry. Loki chuckled and kept fucking him. “You are so easy,” he laughed.
Sam huffed and leaned further against the wall. The water was still warm, and he suspected Loki had something to do with keeping it that way -- Sam had been in the shower for a long time now. Water streamed down his back, washed over his ass as Loki continued driving into him. He gave a happy sigh as he felt warm and peaceful for the first time that day.
Loki gripped his hips and jerked him backwards, thrusting deeper inside of him and coming in a hot rush. Sam pushed back against him, but his foot slipped on the wet tile and he fell backwards against Loki. Loki caught him, even as he came inside him, and they staggered down to land on the bottom of the tub. Sam was spread out over Loki’s legs, still impaled on the demigod’s twitching cock. “Oh, God,” he moaned and felt Loki’s answering scoff through his whole chest.
“Oww,” he moaned and shifted to a more comfortable position. His hands came up to cradle Sam in his arms.
Sam leaned into the embrace and laughed. “Oww?” he questioned. “You’re a big bad pagan, you don’t get to say ‘oww’ when you slip in the bathtub.”
Loki huffed. “I didn’t slip, I was pushed.” He rocked his hips upward and Sam bucked in his arms.
“If that makes you feel better, believe it,” Sam told him. He relaxed in the embrace, stretched his back and let his head fall against Loki’s shoulder. The water continued streaming around them. He sighed, enjoying the steam wafting over him. “This is nice,” he murmured, feeling sleepy.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Loki warned, voice warm and hand rubbing little circles on Sam’s abs.
“I won’t,” Sam promised, but his eyelids were feeling very heavy. All he could feel was the warmth of the water and Loki beneath and inside him. He closed his eyes and could hear Loki’s heartbeat, steady and reassuring against his back. It was the first time since the warehouse that he’d felt so safe, so far removed from the demon blood he could never truly get away from.
“Sammy, don’t fall asleep,” he heard Loki say again. Sam nodded, but the world was drifting away. The warm hand eased away from his stomach and Sam heard the sound of snapping fingers. As he made the final plunge into sleep, he could have sworn he was lying dry in his bed.
next
main header and part one | part two | part three | part four | part five
Chapter Four
After two months of no progress finding the hunter he needed, Castiel realized that he was going about his search the wrong way. He was finding hunters and questioning them about the main wards that kept angels from Earth. They were a secretive bunch, even among their own kind. No one could tell him anything, even if they would. Most of them didn’t even know the nature of the wards, much less who was guarding them. There were a few who did, but even under Castiel’s... persuasion... they couldn’t name the hunter who was in charge of it in North America.
The wards had been erected nearly thirty years ago when the angels’ failed coup had finally crumbled. It stood to reason that the hunters who guarded the wards now were the ones who’d helped build them then. It was a direct solution to his problem, but it presented its own challenges. Castiel realized the flaw in his plan. To angels, all hunters were more or less the same. They couldn’t tell one from another except by the most obvious of physical differences. They didn’t know which hunters were more important than others, which stood against them time and time again.
Angels wouldn’t know that, but hunters would.
Castiel was relieved that he could focus on his mission, that he might finally be making progress. After his experience with Dean, he couldn’t focus at all. His grace hurt, ached for completion. He’d had Dean in a human way, but he wanted - needed - to be with him as angels were with each other. It was impossible, but he couldn’t stop himself from wanting it. Dean couldn’t go to Heaven, and Castiel couldn’t reveal his angel nature on Earth. It was a bond unfulfilled.
Angels didn’t sleep, so Castiel couldn’t say that Dean haunted his dreams. He invaded his waking thoughts. Every time his attention strayed from the task at hand, Dean was there. He saw him around street corners, when he walked past diners, and whenever he hunted, some part of him wished Dean would arrive as he did the second time they’d met.
Dean was no stranger to casual sex. He’d grown up on the road and never stayed in one place long enough to form attachments to anyone other than family. After Sam had graduated high school, they’d never stayed in a place longer than a week. The women and men he met at bars were fun for a night, but come morning he put them out of his mind. He’d known sleeping with a hunter would be different. There was a connection there, a link to a community that dissolved some of his anonymity.
But this was different, even more different than sleeping with another hunter. He could not get Castiel out of his mind. He hadn’t wanted to run out on him so quickly after they’d had sex. If he hadn’t had to worry about the rugaru, he could have taken his time. He could have spent the day in bed with Cas, gone a few more rounds before saying goodbye. It had been intense, exhilarating. He could almost believe that Cas was lying when he said that he’d never been with a guy. But why would he lie about it? He’d been slow to move at first, but once they got into the spirit of things, he hadn’t had any hesitation. Dean had been delightfully sore for the rest of the day.
He wanted to see him again, and it scared him. Dean didn’t do relationships. He didn’t meet parents and he didn’t spend all day thinking about the color of someone’s eyes, no matter how blue they might be. But he did want to see Cas again, wanted to feel his hands on him, his mouth touching his. It had been two weeks and he’d barely thought of anything since. Dean couldn’t explain it - he felt a connection to Cas, felt something binding them together.
Sam was with Loki while Dean went out to get breakfast. Walking in on his brother and the Trickster in bed was not something he wanted to experience, so he would kill time for another hour to make sure they were fully dressed by the time he got back. He was sitting in the diner, trying to admire the waitress and failing. She was small and thin, with rich dark hair and pale blue eyes. All Dean could think was that Cas’s were bluer. He groaned when he caught himself, but it did nothing to vanquish the thought. “Anything else, hon?” she asked him as she brought a refill for his coffee. She smiled and tucked her hair behind her ear, but Dean was uninterested. Normally, he’d be smiling back at her, imagining her little gasp as he slid her bra off her shoulder as he surely would later that day. Now, he just sipped his coffee and pretended not to see her number scrawled at the bottom of the check. Cas had broken him.
Dean’s phone rang and looked at the unfamiliar number for just a moment before answering.
“Dean,” Cas said. Dean felt a shiver run through him at hearing Cas say his name. He’d wondered if he would hear from him, but it had seemed unlikely it would be so soon.
“Cas, hey,” he breathed, realized he sounded like a breathless chick, and cleared his throat. “What’s up?”
“I… Demons, many of them.”
All of the good, warm feelings he’d been coasting on came to a sudden halt. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“I am unhurt, but I could use some assistance.”
Of course he could - he was dealing with demons, dammit! Dean felt anger clouding his vision and fought it down. After what they’d done to Sammy, they deserved to be ripped to shreds, all of them, but losing his cool wouldn’t help anyone. “Do they know you’re there? Can you get out?”
“I have not confronted them,” Cas told him and Dean was relieved. Dean and Sam had the only demon-killing knife, and he doubted Cas had been around in the hunting world long enough to rattle off an exorcism. “I thought it might be best to wait for your input.”
“Stay right there and I’m on my way.”
“Dean, that is unnecessary. I can-“
“They’re demons, Cas! This isn’t some spirit, or skinwalker, or ghoul- You’re in over your head.” He hastily paid the bill and hurried back to the Impala. “Where are you?” He had to swing by the motel and pick up Sam, then haul ass to get to Cas. There was no time to lose; if something happened to him-
“Chicago. I will wait for your arrival,” he said before the line went dead. Dean couldn’t ask for more details, couldn’t ask how many demons Cas considered a lot. More than two was too much trouble for the average hunter. Dean didn’t start sweating it until there were more than ten, but that was because they had the knife and they’d killed so many already with it.
Sam was thankfully dressed, even if his skin was suspiciously flushed, when Dean went to pick him up. “Where’s Loki?” he asked when he didn’t see him anywhere in the room.
“There’s some trouble with the other pagan gods. He said he’d be gone for a while.” For once, Dean might have needed his help, as much as he didn’t want to admit it. “What’s up with you?”
Dean gathered up his bags and grabbed the hex bags. “Cas ran into some demons. We need to help him.”
Sam looked surprised. “Cas called you?” he wondered aloud but didn’t otherwise comment. They didn’t have much to pack and within a minute were out the door.
“You have the knife, right?” Dean asked as the engine roared to life.
Sam exhaled loudly and looked straight ahead. “Dean, I always have the knife. I’m not doing that anymore.”
Dean wondered what the hell his brother was on about before the pieces clicked together and he cringed. “Shit, Sam, that’s not what I meant. I know you’re not… doing that. I’m just worried about Cas.”
The hostility in Sam eased away, but he still looked unhappy. “Did he say how many he was dealing with?”
“No. I didn’t get a chance to ask. He’s in Chicago.” Which was a good five hours away, even with Dean’s driving. Sam loaded the mobile internet on his phone and started typing. “What are you doing?”
“Looking for demonic signs in Chicago. If he’s there on a hunt, we can follow the trail, too.” Sam paused and looked over at Dean, for the first time grinning again. “You’ve got it bad. At the first sign of danger for him, you completely lose your head.”
Dean flushed and didn’t answer. It was painfully true. He should have thought of it first. This wasn’t like him. Dean was good at handling stress and keeping his cool. His hands tightened on the steering wheel. As soon as he got Cas safe, he could deal with all this shit. Maybe they could sleep together again, let Dean get it out of his system. He could only have sex with someone so many times before it got boring.
He thought it over and decided it was a solid plan.
Castiel watched the demon enter the warehouse and scowled in distaste. These were the most wretched creatures. They were the ones made to spite God. He despised even looking at them.
He’d gone to Chicago on the report of bodies being found viciously mauled. It would attract any hunter within the state at least. He’d suspected a black dog, but upon actually arriving saw the area crawling with hellhounds. Demons were almost certainly nearby and he’d trailed a pack of the hounds back to a warehouse. A demon had opened the door to allow them entry and he’d gotten a glimpse inside, seen at least three score demons. That was pushing it, even for an angel. He’d called Dean for assistance an hour ago and waited in the shadows for him to arrive.
Castiel had agreed to wait for help to arrive, but that plan might be useless. He had the feeling that one of the demons had spotted him. He wasn’t immediately pursued, but she had looked directly at him. There were three on patrol near the door and front of the building, looking like nothing more than homeless beggars to anyone unsuspecting. He followed with his eyes the one in the body of an older woman, watched her shuffle by the entrance and then lean up against a dumpster. His eyes flicked back to the other two - other one, he saw with alarm. The third guard had vanished.
Castiel sensed the blow a moment before it would have landed and was able to dodge out of the way. He turned to see a blond man lunging for him, his eyes the shiny black of the possessed. “Do you really think you can sneak up on us?” he hissed and swung a large knife into his arm. Castiel was an angel - such attacks were useless against him. The blade embedded into his flesh, but he wasn’t fazed. The demon took a step back, confusion all over his face, and Castiel seized his chance. He brought his hand to his head and flared his grace, shining heavenly light into the human and wiping the demon from existence. The body crumbled to the floor, the demon having long since killed the host.
“Angel,” the second demon, a young blonde woman, hissed and sprinted away. The older woman followed at her heels and they disappeared into the building. Castiel could not let them go. If they alerted the demons to his presence-
He caught up with the older woman and quickly disposed of the demon inside her. Her body was likewise empty, the human long gone. He hurried after the one in the young body and tackled her to the ground just as she reached the doors to the main rooms. She shrieked, but Castiel covered her mouth was his hand as he let his grace kill the demon. He let her body fall to the floor before noticing that she was still breathing. He was surprised - demons enjoyed killing the hosts’ bodies quickly so the humans trapped inside would have no hope of freedom. He knelt over her to examine her injuries, which luckily for her were not serious. His head snapped up as he heard commotion from the hallway he’d just run through and the footsteps of many people. More demons, and now they knew he was there. He hefted the girl into his arms like she weighed a feather and turned to go deeper into the building.
They were definitely demons, and they definitely knew he was there. They must have found the bodies of the other two and were now looking for the intruder. Castiel could flee. He hadn’t used the swiftness of an angel’s flight since he had arrived due to fear of being revealed, but now that looked likely with either option - fleeing or the demons finding him.
But there was another factor... he had saved this woman and he didn’t want to leave her behind. He wished he could just flee with her, but humans weren’t meant to travel as angels did... her bones and flesh could crumble into dust.
There was a glowing exit sign up ahead and Castiel sprinted towards it. He opened the door and stepped through, but it did not lead to an exit. Instead, there was a long hallway with three doors. The first was empty, the second packed full with boxes, but the third was acceptable. Empty boxes were stacked on one side, and a dusty shelf on the other. Castiel set the woman on the floor and quickly locked the door. He found a knife on the girl and made a cut on his arm, just enough to get a good amount of blood. The design he drew was one he hadn’t practiced since he was first placed in the garrison, but it was an easy one. The humans used something similar they called a ‘devil’s trap’ but it was more primitive. That done, he didn’t have to worry about the demons following him. The room was protected, and now he would wait.
It was another hour before the woman woke up, groaning and clutching her side. Castiel knew the problem; he had seen evidence when he’d examined her for injuries.
“One of your ribs is cracked,” he informed her.
The woman startled and spun to face him, but only looked confused when she saw him. Her eyes flickered to the door and studied the sigil he’d drawn. “Are you a hunter?”
He nodded. “I... exorcised the demon that was controlling you.”
She bit her lip. “Thanks,” she said and sat up so that she was no longer lying on the floor. “I’m a hunter, too. Jo Harvelle.”
“I am Castiel,” he introduced himself.
“Casti-Not Dean’s Cas?” she asked, smiling secretively.
“You are acquainted with Dean Winchester?” Which was consistent with what he had told him when he’d said he was well-known. He could find no reason that she would be aware of Castiel, nor his own relationship with Dean.
She laughed until it pained her ribs. “More than acquainted. He’s like my big brother. Our families were really tight when I was a kid. Sam and I are about the same age, so Dean used to watch us while our parents talked about hunts.”
Castiel processed that. It still didn’t explain her knowledge of him. “Dean told you about me?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, Sam did. You and Dean... got pretty close, according to Sam.”
“We slept together,” he told her and she choked on a laugh.
“Wow, you don’t go for subtlety,” she told him. “I figured as much. Dean sounds like he’s pretty smitten though.”
Castiel studied her, looking for her meaning. “It is my understanding that the encounter was without commitment.”
Jo grinned at him. “We’ll see,” she said.
Jo drifted off to sleep shortly after and Castiel thought about her words. She clearly knew Dean well, but what she said was in direct disagreement with what he had observed from Dean himself. He turned it over and over in his head, but couldn’t find any straight answers. Humans were hard to understand.
“How long was I out?” she asked when she woke up.
“Three hours.” And twenty-seven minutes, but he’d found humans didn’t like such precise answers.
“What are you doing here anyway? I was after the corpses disappearing from the morgue.”
“I believed I was hunting a black dog,” he answered. “I have never seen a hellhound before,” he admitted.
She snorted. “Don’t feel bad. Most people who see hellhounds don’t live to tell about it. The demons got me my first day here... I don’t know how long it’s been.”
Castiel was suddenly aware of a new concern. “How much do you remember?” If she recalled him using his angel powers, she was doing a good job of hiding it.
She shook her head. “The first few hours after it got inside me. After that, it was like I fell asleep. There were bits and pieces, but not enough to know what they’re up to.”
Castiel breathed a sigh of relief.
“What about you? What got you into hunting?”
“I am doing this for my family,” he said honestly and hoped she would misunderstand. Humans frequently applied his words to their own expectations. It allowed him to be honest when he answered questions. The only lie he’d told since arriving on earth was his cover story about selling ad space on AM radio.
She nodded sympathetically. “Me, too. My dad was killed by angels when I was about a year old. I took up hunting to honor him.”
Castiel did not want that line of conversation to progress any further. The war against the humans was a sore topic among angels in heaven, just as it was among humans on Earth. “I am sorry for your loss.”
She smiled humorlessly. “I don’t remember much about him. My mom has this old picture of them, before I was born. She’d show it to me when I was a little girl and tell me about him being a hero.” She stopped for a moment and wiped at her dry eyes. “What does your dad do? Is he in this life, too?”
“I never met my father in person.”
“Oh.” She cringed. “I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
Castiel wondered why she was remorseful. “You were not aware.” He heard a sound and cocked his head toward the noise.
"What is it? Are the demons coming?"
“No. Dean is here,” he announced.
Chapter Five
Dean had never seen so many demons in one place at one time. They were everywhere - it was like fighting a hydra, one went down and two more sprung up in its place.
They’d killed at least thirty and there looked to be no end to them. Dean’s brow was beaded with sweat and his arms ached from swinging the knife. He hoped Cas wasn’t caught up in this shit, but he had a bad feeling that he was. When they’d hit Chicago, the supernatural trail had been easy enough to follow. It eventually led them to a warehouse crawling with demons. He hadn’t wanted a frontal assault, but they’d been spotted and had no choice but to fight for their lives.
Sam was exorcising and dousing them with holy water while Dean was wielding the knife. It was effective, but slow. It would only take one good hit from a demon to bring them down.
It didn’t happen. The last demon fell with a thud and a crackle of power as the knife worked its magic. Dean watched it fall and then looked around the room at the dead bodies lying everywhere. There had to be at least fifty of them. His arms ached and he was covered in blood not his own. An ordinary hunter wouldn’t have been able to pull it off, but Dean hadn’t been ordinary in a long time. Sam had his demon blood to make him immune to the demons’ powers, and Dean had his own protection.
“Dean,” Cas said and it was music to his ears. Cas was standing at one of the side entrances to the main room of the warehouse looking completely unruffled.
It wasn’t natural... “Christo,” he tested, but Cas just looked at him. Not possessed then, and that was a relief. “Are you okay?” he asked to be sure.
“I am unharmed. I secured one of the smaller rooms for refuge.”
So he ran and hid, thank God. There was nothing wrong with fleeing if a person didn’t have the tools to fight. “Are there any others?” he asked.
“I exorcised some of the demons, but I believe that you have killed most of them.” He looked at the heap of dead bodies flatly. “Come, we should go before the police arrive.”
Dean winced and tried not to think about the news once the massacre was discovered. Those who didn’t hunt couldn’t tell the difference between a supernatural slaying and a murder. He cast an eye back at Sam who was very deliberately not looking at the demon blood oozing onto the floor.
“Yeah, let’s go,” he agreed. “I parked out front.”
“Wait,” Castiel said and turned back the way he came. Dean followed behind and after a moment, Sam behind him. There were at least ten still bodies in the hallway Cas chose. Those must have been the bodies of the demons he had exorcised. He reevaluated his opinion of Cas’s skills... exorcising that many demons took work. Of course, there was no telling how many he had faced at one time.
Cas led the way to the door in the back and stopped. “I left her in here,” he explained unhelpfully.
“Who?” Dean started, but the words died as the door opened. “Jo?!”
It was a tense car ride to the Roadhouse. Dean needed to take Jo back to her mother. She was in the backseat, wincing with every bump in the road. Dean knew from firsthand experience that cracked ribs were a pain. He was angry that she got herself in trouble but was so thankful that she was alive he’d let her listen to REO Speedwagon. Damnit, he hadn’t even known she was missing!
Cas was sitting beside her in the backseat, looking completely unruffled - at least about the demons. His eyes locked with Dean’s in the rearview mirror, causing Dean to drift into the wrong lane more than once. Sam rode shotgun, shoulders tense and eyes staring out the window. It had to have been hard on him - being around so much demon blood.
That many demons in one place was scary as fuck. They’d lain low when the angels had arrived, their numbers greatly diminished in the human-angel-demon free for all that had been waged in the late seventies...
He thought of Jo being held by them, possessed by them, and shuddered. They’d done the math for the last day she remembered to now, and counted off nine days of being possessed. She said she was okay, but who knew what had happened to her... God. It had been bad enough when they’d taken Sam, but they wanted him alive. It was only lucky fate that Cas had been able to save Jo. There in the thick of it, he hadn’t even been looking at the demons he’d stabbed - if she’d still been possessed, if she’d been in the line to fight him --
The Impala rolled to a stop in the gravel parking lot. No one made a move to get out. Sam continued staring into space and Dean worried about him. Jo was mentally preparing herself to face her upset mother - Dean worried about her, too. It was tough having family, no matter how much better it was than the alternative. Cas was staring at Dean in the rearview mirror, intense blue eyes never moving from the reflection of Dean’s face. Dean wanted to lean back and kiss him, but the timing wasn’t right. He’d get Jo inside, explain things to Ellen. They’d put the news out about the demons’ gathering and see what turned up. He hoped it wouldn’t come to another war... If they showed the slightest weakness, if the angels found a way in through the wards or were able to tear them down-
“Joanna Beth!” Ellen called as she hurried from the bar. She met Jo just as her daughter was shutting the car door and pulled her into her arms. “Don’t you ever worry me like that again!”
“Easy, Mom,” she pleaded and returned the hug. Jo had been hunting for a while now, and she’d gotten into her own share of scrapes, but this had been the closest call she’d ever had. Not only had Cas been able to exorcise her without harming Jo, but to be possessed that long and still walk away from it mostly unscathed...
Ellen wiped away tears and then turned to Dean. She hugged him tight and he could feel her trembling against him. “Thank you for bringing her home,” she whispered in his ear.
“Any time,” he promised. He pulled away and motioned to Cas who’d just removed himself from the backseat. “This is Cas, he’s the one who saved her.”
Ellen pulled him into a hug, too, and it was funny to watch. Cas stood there, rigid, and looking like he didn’t have any idea what he was supposed to do. She eventually released him and then patted him on the back. “I can’t thank you enough,” she told him somberly.
Cas acknowledged it with a nod. “I am pleased that I could be of assistance.”
Ellen smiled at him and then gestured to the Roadhouse. “Well, why are we all standing out here? Come in and have a drink.” She looked back at the car to Sam who still sat silently in the passenger seat. “Sam, honey, are you all right?”
Sam nodded but didn’t otherwise answer. Ellen shot a worried frown in Dean’s direction, and he slowly shook his head. “Demon blood,” he mouthed silently and watched as comprehension dawned on her face.
“Come inside and have a drink, Sam,” she offered in a motherly tone.
Sam focused back on the present and opened the car door. He unfolded his long legs from the seat and Dean noticed the blood staining his jeans for the first time. “I’ll pass on the drink, but if I could get a shower?” He looked like a kicked puppy, and Ellen didn’t waste a second offering him his usual room when they were in town.
Dean looked at the blood still on his jeans, knowing that Sam could smell it and it must have been getting under his skin. “Sam,” he started, but Sam just shook his head and grabbed his bag.
“I’ll see you later, Dean, guys,” he said and walked back toward the saloon.
“He’ll be okay,” Ellen told him as they watched him go. “He didn’t drink any of it,” she said, though there was no way she could have known that. She’d always had faith in them.
“I hope so,” Jo said and winced again at her sore ribs.
“C’mon, let’s get you fixed up,” Ellen told her daughter. She looked over her shoulder at Dean and Cas. “Don’t just stand there, get inside.”
Dean locked up the car and slung an arm over Cas’s shoulders without thinking about it. He steered him toward the Roadhouse and grunted in appreciation when he saw that it was closed. Just the regulars would be there. That would give them a good opportunity to get the word out about the demons.
He’d pushed Cas down in an empty chair and was pulling out his own next to him when he noticed how quiet his companion was. “Are you okay?” he asked. Physically, Dean knew he was fine, but that must have been an ordeal for a newbie hunter.
“I am concerned by the number of demons we encountered earlier,” Cas admitted. “It seems most unusual.”
Dean scoffed. “No kidding.” Ellen handed him his beer and then set one on the bar in front of Cas. He looked at it curiously before taking a sip and then draining it one long gulp. Dean laughed a little. Cas was so weird sometimes. “No,” he continued. “Demons do their best work in stealth. We hardly ever find more than two together. Nothing like today.”
“I fear that some escaped,” Cas told him. “When I arrived, I saw evidence that not all were inside the buildings. And the hellhounds-“
“Hellhounds,” Dean breathed. “Jesus.”
Cas looked like he was going to continue, but stopped as Ellen approached with some other hunters. “Hey, Rufus, Travis,” Dean greeted.
“Dean,” Travis said as he clapped him on the back. “Who’s this?” he asked with a nod to Cas.
“This is Castiel -“ he broke off as he suddenly realized that he didn’t know something very important. “What is your last name?” he asked his friend.
Cas blinked slowly. “Please call me, ‘Castiel,’” he requested. “I prefer to keep my family out of this.”
Dean shrugged. “Fair enough. Guys, this is Cas.” He motioned to the empty chairs beside them. “Take a seat, we’ve got a lot to talk about.”
Later, after supper, Dean brought Cas up to the room he’d stayed in when he was younger. He’d lived there for months after his mom died, looking after Sam and Jo by day and crying into his pillow at night. He hadn’t been back for a year or two, but Ellen kept the place clean - there wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere. The room was small, the bed just big enough for him. He sat down on the mattress and closed his eyes. Just a second later, he felt the mattress dip as Cas joined him.
Cas leaned against him and nuzzled his neck, kissed the spot below his ear. “I’ve been thinking about this all day,” he told him in that gruff voice that sent heat straight to Dean’s cock. Dean turned his chin up so he could feel that rough stubble against his throat and leaned into Cas’s shoulder.
“God, me, too,” he admitted. He turned his head so that their lips met and sank into the bliss of the kiss he’d been thinking about for weeks. Cas’s mouth was hot under his, his tongue already brushing against Dean’s own lips and slipping inside. “Oh, Cas,” he moaned when they broke the kiss. He let his forehead rest against Cas’s own, felt their breaths mingle in the space between. “We can’t do this,” he said.
Cas was taken aback. “Why not?” he growled.
Dean snorted. “Because Jo and Ellen are just a few rooms over and I don’t think I can keep myself quiet.” He stood up and tugged Cas up as well. “C’mon,” he coaxed and led him back outside. The air was unseasonably warm, but Dean was glad. He was about to lose his clothes and didn’t want the mood ruined.
He led the way to the Impala and stood beside the backseat door. “Not as much room,” he admitted bashfully, “But more privacy than we had inside.” Cas looked at the windows of the Roadhouse, some of them containing guests who were paranoid and aware of their surroundings. He looked doubtful and Dean grinned. “Trust me.”
Cas started to walk forward to the backseat, but Dean put his hand against his chest. The warmth underneath spread to his palm and he only reluctantly pulled it away. “It’ll be easier if we do it out here.” With that, he reached out and tugged at Cas’s coat. It slipped from his shoulders easily and he unknotted the tie next. The jacket was next and then he unbuttoned the dress shirt, leaving it open but still on him. Dean ducked his head down and licked a trail from his navel to his collar bone, grinning when he felt Cas’s breath hitch.
Dean took a moment to admire Cas’s lean frame, the nice muscle definition he kept hidden beneath that suit and coat. Beautiful, he thought but couldn’t say it. He was unmistakably a new hunter - he had no visible scars, no burn or bite marks. If he stayed alive long enough, he’d acquire his own set, his skin would become more like Dean’s.
Dean grinned at him as he felt Cas move closer for another kiss. Their mouths met as Dean’s hand snaked downward to unfasten his belt and unbutton his pants. Cas was rock hard beneath his hand as he slipped inside his underwear. Cas moaned into the kiss, his hands moving desperately at Dean’s back. He pulled away long enough to pull Dean’s own shirt over his head and then they tumbled backwards against the Impala.
Cas’s hand slipped into Dean’s jeans and then beneath his underwear. He gripped his cock in just the right pressure, just the right squeeze that Dean gasped into his mouth and fell flatly against the Impala. Cas covered him with his own body, removing his hand as it circled to his backside and his thigh came to rest between Dean’s legs. They rocked together, mouths locked and hands sliding beneath clothes.
Dean caught sight of movement in one of the windows and jerked his head back to the car. “Let’s get inside,” he whispered and finished tugging off his own clothes. Cas stepped out of his pants and stood naked before him. All either of them wore were amulets and Dean took a moment to enjoy the sight before opening the door and stepping backwards into the car. Cas climbed in after him and the door clicked in place loudly in the silent air.
Dean stretched out on the seat, his body warm and sweating in the slightly chilled air. Their breath fogged the windows and soon it would be obvious to anyone who looked what they were up to, even if they couldn’t be seen. Cas settled between his legs and dipped his head so that he could lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the head. Dean moaned and arched his back, felt himself impossibly stiff beneath Cas’s touches. He’d been wanting this again, thinking so much about Cas that he just wanted to fuck, to get it over with so they could do it again.
Cas must have been reading his mind because after a few more licks with his tongue he pulled away and set one hot hand against Dean’s hip. “Turn over,” he ordered and Dean hastened to comply. The anticipation that he was about to get what he wanted was heady and almost as powerful as the touches themselves had been.
“The rubber and lube’re in my pocket,” he told him with a wave to his discarded jeans. Cas retrieved them and Dean heard the sound of the tube being opened. It sent more heat straight to his cock and he ground his hips against the seat. He jerked as a slick, cold finger pressed against him and slipped inside. “Shit! A little warning next time,” he groused.
“My apologies,” Cas said, but didn’t sound very remorseful. He pushed his finger deeper, rubbing against Dean from the inside and stretching him open. Dean was panting for breath when Cas slipped the second inside, wincing at the stretch as it sank to the knuckle. He scissored his fingers with one hand and the other moved to his shoulder blades to press Dean flat against the seat. Dean writhed against the sensation, groaning when Cas brushed against his prostate and quickly moved away. Even with the hand against his back, Dean was slowly inching across the seat, so by the time Cas withdrew his fingers, Dean was halfway pressed against the door.
Cas leaned over him, nudged one of Dean’s legs off of the seat to spread him further. He brushed his lips over Dean’s ear, the stubble of his jaw tickling over the lobe. “I’m going to take you now,” he told him, voice rough with desire.
“God, yes,” Dean panted and braced himself as Cas pushed inside him with one hard thrust. He writhed upward, body half-rising to fall against the door. Cas gripped his hips tightly as he pulled out and thrust forward with the same deep strokes. “Cas,” he moaned and his hands flailed for something to grab, something to squeeze as he was taken, possessed by the man behind him. His hands landed on the door handle and without thinking he grabbed it. His groan of satisfaction turned into a shout of dismay as his weight pushed the door open and he spilled out.
Blood rushed to his head as he fell forward and he would have tumbled face-first into the parking lot, except that Cas was still holding his hips to the seat, still thrusting in and out of him with that same steady rhythm. “Cas...” he moaned, hands scrambling to grip something. It was like being fucked while falling. Each thrust sent him forward, the ground all he could see moving towards his face, and then Cas pulled back and he inched backwards into the car only for the process to repeat. He was out of control, had no physical means to influence the situation, could only lie there and take it.
Dean’s chest was being rubbed raw against the seat, his head still dizzy from hanging out of the car. The angle Cas hit as he fucked into him was deep, but it wasn’t quite right, didn’t hit him in just the right spot. He rocked back, trying to adjust, but Cas held him firm. His dick was hard and pressed tight between his stomach and the seat and he had no means to give it any friction. It was incredibly hot, but at the same time-
“This is unsatisfying,” Cas panted and stilled while inside him.
“A little bit,” Dean admitted. He wasn’t prepared for Cas to slide out of him completely and rock back on his heels. Dean moaned at the loss and started to sit up when Cas opened the door and stepped outside. “Hey, where are you going-“
The answer was quickly evident when Cas walked around to his side of the car and reached for him. He pulled Dean out of the car and walked him around to the back, bent him over the trunk and slid inside with one easy motion. Dean groaned as he bottomed out, hands moving against the Impala as he rocked forward with every thrust from Castiel’s hips. Cas brought his left arm up to hold Dean against the trunk and the other circled around to grab his throbbing cock. He squeezed in time with his thrusts and Dean could see his orgasm coming from a mile away.
“Cas, ah, Cas!” he shouted as he spilled into Cas’s hand. Cas grunted as Dean tightened around him, stilled inside of him until he could resume his motions. Dean coasted on his high, aware he was bent over his car in a parking lot where anyone could see them, but not able to care. He could feel each deep thrust from Cas, could hear his pants for breath as he loomed closer and closer to his own release. The thrusts grew quicker and shorter, stabbing Dean directly against his prostate and stirring his interest again. He had minimal leverage but was able to pull his right leg to the side, allowing Cas to slide in deeper. It did the trick and soon he was groaning as he pushed as deep as he could into him and stilled, body shaking and arms pressing Dean tight against the car. He felt impossibly hot against Dean’s back, and Dean could have sworn he’d seen light dance in front of his eyes from the intensity of it. He was still breathing hard from his own release and pressed his cheek against the trunk, savoring the feel of the cool metal against his overheated skin.
Dean felt a rush of warm sensation in him and ground out a little “oh” even as Cas lazily continued to thrust his hips into him. He released his tight grip, but made no move to pull away. Cas was like a furnace against his back. He savored the feel of his warmth and his breath ghosting over his skin. They couldn’t stay like that long. The air was getting colder, and they were standing naked in public. Then there was the other problem... “Hey, Cas, I think the condom broke.”
Cas grunted, but leaned back and rested one hand on Dean’s hip as he pulled out. Dean straightened, savoring the feel of well-used muscles in his arms and legs. He could still feel Cas inside him and it sent another pulse to his dick. He was too tired for another round, wanted to crawl into bed and get some actual sleep. He looked back at Cas and, sure enough, the condom had split down the middle. He could feel semen trickling from him and added “shower” to his list of necessities.
“I am sorry,” Cas told him, peeling off the broken condom and looking uncertain.
“It’s not your fault,” Dean chuckled as he gathered up their clothes and tossed Cas’s to him. “I’m clean,” he promised.
“I do not have any sexually transmitted diseases,” Cas assured him. He started dressing.
“Then we won’t worry about it,” Dean laughed it off and hastily pulled on his own clothes, body pleasantly aching from their exertions. He was covered in sweat, and the air had become colder... He wanted to crawl into a warm bed with Cas.
He wiped away the come on the Impala and led Cas back to the Roadhouse. Cas was a warm weight against his back as he drifted off to sleep.
Castiel rose and dressed while Dean was still awake. He hadn’t slept of course, merely stared at the man sleeping beside him, wondering what had overcome him. He was on a mission, he didn’t have time for love affairs. He remembered what they had done together the night before and his blood pounded in his veins.
To his surprise, a few hunters were already awake and eating downstairs. Dean had explained that the primary function of the establishment was to sell alcoholic beverages, but Ellen also put hunters up for the night when they were in the area. He recognized Rufus Turner from their meeting last night, but the man didn’t seem very friendly towards him.
Castiel took a seat at the bar and only a moment later Jo appeared with a cup of coffee for him. “I do not -“
“Easy, big guy, it’s on me. You saved my life, you know.” She grinned at him. He thanked her and sipped the drink, aware of the hot liquid running down his throat and into his stomach. He didn’t need food or drink, but coffee was tolerable - he enjoyed the smell.
An older hunter sitting nearby raised his head at that and moved to join Castiel. “We all heard ‘bout what you did for little Jo.” He was nursing his own steaming mug and looked like he’d been imbibing too much alcohol the night before. “We don’t like newcomers getting in our business, but it’s easy to forget we were all new once.”
Castiel nodded. He’d had his own share of troubles persuading other hunters to talk to him.
“Ellen’s been in hunting for a long time, and she likes ya, so we’ll give you a chance.”
“I am grateful,” he said. It would make his task that much easier.
The man laughed. “Young’uns like you... I was born into this life, like a few of us others. It’s a hard thing to do - accept that other people can be good, too. Hell, maybe even better.” He gestured to the shelf behind the bar where a photograph of Ellen and blonde woman was on display. “See her? That’s Mary Campbell. Campbells were hunters for a helluva long time. I knew her daddy, back in the day. Lord, did that man know his creepy crawlies. Stubborn sonuvabitch, though. Never wanted any other hunters around.”
Castiel looked at the photograph, studied the smile the woman was giving the camera. There was something familiar about her, but he didn’t know what it could be. He felt drawn to her, like she could be the answer to his problems. “Where is Mary now?” he wondered aloud, curious about this connection he felt to her.
“Dead,” the hunter said somberly. He shook his head. “Damn shame, it was. Got on the wrong side of the angels.” He snorted and continued, “Not that those SOBs have good sides.” He looked fondly at the photograph of Mary and Ellen again. “Still, she was an absolute gem. Gave everyone something to squawk about when she left huntin’ to get married.” He laughed. “She came back though, they always do. Once you’re in, there’s no gettin’ out of this life. And God knows her husband saved us all.”
Castiel didn’t let himself react. He slid his eyes over to look at the man who was still fondly remembering Mary. “What do you mean?”
The hunter stiffened, then looked around. “Ah, you’re all right,” he deemed. “We don’t talk about this out in the open, but we know you’re one of us now. Mary’s husband was the one who helped kick the angels off Earth.” He chuckled. “He got together with some other old-timers and - BAM - beamed them right off the starship, en masse.”
Mary Campbell’s husband. Castiel’s hand tightened slowly around his glass.
Chapter Five-and-a-half: S&G Sidestory
Sam peeled off his bloody clothes and tied them up in a plastic bag as quickly as possible. The smell had been taunting him the whole drive home, and before that, when the blood had been in person...
He was not going down that road again, he told himself. But, oh, how it had called to him, how from the smell alone he could taste it on his tongue, the warm pulse of it against the back of his throat. His body shuddered with want even as he felt sick to his stomach and wanted to vomit.
“Never again,” he whispered out loud and looked at himself in the mirror. He stashed the clothes in a corner where he wouldn’t see them and started up the water for his shower. At this time of year, it always took a minute to get warm and he wanted his water hot enough to make his skin burn unpleasantly. He wanted to wash away the filth and the grime, and the desire, and the longing-
It was vile and disgusting, and he hadn’t seen a demon in so long. In that warehouse, watching the spray of blood as the knife slit throats, he could hear their heartbeats, feel them resonating with his own.
Steam rolled out from the shower and he stepped under the hot spray. The water was uncomfortably hot, but Sam wouldn’t have it any other way. He lathered his hands with soap and rubbed them into skin, fingernails dragging over flakes of blood and sending them down the drain. Once he was satisfied he was clean, he stood under the spray and let the water rain down on his skin.
A hand touched his hip and Sam stiffened before relaxing. He’d know that touch anywhere. “Aren’t you supposed to be in Europe?” he asked, still not looking at his companion.
“You’re upset,” Loki explained, body now flush against Sam’s own. His hand wrapped around his hips and then slithered to take Sam’s cock in a slippery grip. Sam snorted at the scent of French-vanilla body wash that was permeating the air now.
“It was a tough day,” Sam said between gasps. Blood rushed to his cock and he felt himself growing harder under Loki’s touch. “There were a lot of demons,” he added, because Loki knew the truth and Sam knew he could trust him. The Trickster sighed against his shoulder and rubbed his thumb against the head of his cock, sending shoots of pleasure straight through him.
“You did fine,” Loki told him, one hand on his cock and the other kneading his ass. Sam leaned forward, both hands against the wall and ass in the air. He could barely believe that he’d slept with him just that morning. It felt like they’d been apart much longer.
A warm soapy finger breached him and he sighed into the touch. “You don’t know that.”
“Yes I do,” Loki countered. “I know you.”
Sam smiled as love tightened in his chest. That was the kind of faith his family had always had in him, something he never expected to be able to find elsewhere. “Harder,” he said and widened his stance. Loki pushed in with two more fingers and Sam rocked his hips back against the touch.
Groaning under the sensation, he closed his eyes and just let himself feel. The water was still hot against him although it had cooled some. Loki’s fingers were deep inside him, stretching him open and no doubt making him smell like French-vanilla for the rest of the night. The other hand on his cock was holding him, fingers flexing but no longer applying any real pressure. He rocked into it, but Loki just chuckled in his ear. “Patience, Sammy,” he laughed as he removed his fingers. He felt the hard pressure of Loki’s cock against him, and then the delicious burn as he pushed inside.
Once he was all the way in, he stopped, chest pressed tight against Sam’s back. He could feel the fine tremors that wracked him as he struggled to stay still. Water ran between them, slicked Sam’s back against Loki and he could feel the slick slide of flesh against flesh. “You okay?” Loki asked him.
Sam nodded. Water soaked his hair and flowed into his eyes, forcing them closed. “Yeah,” he moaned. “Move already.”
“Bossy little thing,” Loki laughed, pulling back only to snap his hips forward again. Sam groaned and leaned closer to the wall, wet hands sliding against the tile and struggling to get a grip. Loki set up an easy rhythm, hitting him at just that right angle that had him panting for breath and rocking back against him.
Loki’s hand tightened on his cock, fingernail dragging lightly against the head, and Sam came with a cry. Loki chuckled and kept fucking him. “You are so easy,” he laughed.
Sam huffed and leaned further against the wall. The water was still warm, and he suspected Loki had something to do with keeping it that way -- Sam had been in the shower for a long time now. Water streamed down his back, washed over his ass as Loki continued driving into him. He gave a happy sigh as he felt warm and peaceful for the first time that day.
Loki gripped his hips and jerked him backwards, thrusting deeper inside of him and coming in a hot rush. Sam pushed back against him, but his foot slipped on the wet tile and he fell backwards against Loki. Loki caught him, even as he came inside him, and they staggered down to land on the bottom of the tub. Sam was spread out over Loki’s legs, still impaled on the demigod’s twitching cock. “Oh, God,” he moaned and felt Loki’s answering scoff through his whole chest.
“Oww,” he moaned and shifted to a more comfortable position. His hands came up to cradle Sam in his arms.
Sam leaned into the embrace and laughed. “Oww?” he questioned. “You’re a big bad pagan, you don’t get to say ‘oww’ when you slip in the bathtub.”
Loki huffed. “I didn’t slip, I was pushed.” He rocked his hips upward and Sam bucked in his arms.
“If that makes you feel better, believe it,” Sam told him. He relaxed in the embrace, stretched his back and let his head fall against Loki’s shoulder. The water continued streaming around them. He sighed, enjoying the steam wafting over him. “This is nice,” he murmured, feeling sleepy.
“Don’t fall asleep,” Loki warned, voice warm and hand rubbing little circles on Sam’s abs.
“I won’t,” Sam promised, but his eyelids were feeling very heavy. All he could feel was the warmth of the water and Loki beneath and inside him. He closed his eyes and could hear Loki’s heartbeat, steady and reassuring against his back. It was the first time since the warehouse that he’d felt so safe, so far removed from the demon blood he could never truly get away from.
“Sammy, don’t fall asleep,” he heard Loki say again. Sam nodded, but the world was drifting away. The warm hand eased away from his stomach and Sam heard the sound of snapping fingers. As he made the final plunge into sleep, he could have sworn he was lying dry in his bed.
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