Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Before Dean Winchester, Castiel had never really spent much time on the idea of being caught. It wasnāt that he was cocky ā though, reflecting back on it, he supposes he was a little cocky. But, really, he just never bothered to think about what would happen or why heād get caught to begin with. It seemed pointless ā he should enjoy his life while he was still free, rather than waste time worrying and wondering about something that hadnāt even happened and that may never happen at all. Worrying would only serve one purpose, as far as he was concerned ā it would make him more prone to making mistakes and slipping up.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā That had been pre-Dean. Once that perfect little omega cop sauntered onto one of his crime scenes, all bets were off. Suddenly being arrested was all Castiel could think about, as Dean started to plague his every thought. His Dean, his mate, his perfect little omega ā Dean needed him. Getting his ass thrown into prison would result in a terrible life for Dean, something his mate just didnāt deserve. No, Dean deserved a stable mate, someone who was always around to care for him ā not someone whoād been thrown into maximum security with no chance of parole or visitations. His every kill carried with it the weight of his fear, though he hoped he had enough control and skill to keep it from showing. Every day carried with it numerous questions ā was this it? Was this the one that was going to get him caught? Was this the one where he left enough of a trail for the police to find him? What would Dean do? Who would take care of him? How would Castiel find his redemption if he was kept locked away from the shining light he was meant to polish and maintain?
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā When he finally took Dean, the fear seemed to lessen ā then again, so did his killing habits. He simply didnāt have the free time, not when he had a needy omega in his house. Castiel had brought Dean to a small cottage heād been fixing up and maintaining; the place was far enough off the raider where he was confident no one would stumble upon him or Dean. Itād been touch and go at first, as heād had to linger around his car while he stripped Dean down and tossed anything traceable away from them, but once they were speeding down the road Castiel was sure heād made the right choice. Heād tied Dean to his bed before the omega woke up, knowing that the new surroundings and upcoming changes would serve to confuse his mate and make him prone to struggling.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He didnāt like having Dean all tied up. Well, he did ā his dick especially did ā but that was different. He didnāt want him tied up all the time. No, he wanted Dean to be able to sit on his lap while they ate their meals. He wanted Deanās head to rest on him while Castiel petted his hair and read the newspaper. He wanted Dean straddling him as they kissed, and he wanted Dean to help him fix his tie in the morning just to tug it off a few minutes later while they stumbled their way towards their bed. None of that could happen when Dean was tied into place and unable to do anything more than sit up on the bed, and it pissed Castile off.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Unfortunately, there was simply no other choice. At least, there was no other choice at the time. He had to wait for Deanās suppressants to wear off ā then, the omega would be able to register Castiel as his mate and heād stop fighting him so much. Not to mention, Dean would finally be able to go into heat, allowing Castiel to claim him as his mate. Then Castiel wouldnāt have to worry so much about his mate wandering off and leading Castiel on a wild chase to track him down.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Tied up, Dean put up a constant fight. He was always yelling and tugging at his restraints, digging the metal into his skin hard enough to break through the skin. It always made Castiel freak and panic, until eventually heād swapped the cuffs out after Dean had fallen asleep. The metal and chains were covered in cloth; soft and thick enough where Deanās constantly pulling tugging wouldnāt further damage his skin. Dean hadnāt been pleased when he woke up, much to Castielās chagrin ā shouldnāt his mate be happy that Castiel was keeping him from hurting himself? ā but it at least stopped him from cutting his skin open anymore. Everything wound up being a fight with Dean ā even something as simple as eating. Castiel had to force him to chew and swallow every bite, leaving him exhausted by the end of every meal time.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Then, finally, Deanās suppressants wore off and he went into heat. Even if Castiel hadnāt been waiting for this moment for what felt like forever, there was simply no way heād ever have been able to deny Deanās frantic begging. Sure, his mate had tried to bite his tongue and ignore Castiel at first, but Castiel had sat and waited by their bed until Dean caved and asked him to sit by him. It was a slippery slope from there, and soon Dean was begging Castiel to help him. Castile had fucked him hard and often until his heat ebbed away, and by the end of it there was a firm imprint of Castielās teeth in Deanās neck, a claim that marked the omega as his and bound them together.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā After that, Dean was far more docile. Or, in the very least, he was resigned ā Castiel wasnāt sure which, but at this point heād accept either. It was at least a pleasant change from Dean yelling and hitting him, and given enough time Castiel knew Dean would come around to love him. They were meant to be together, after all.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā At least, it would have come around, had everything not gone to complete and utter shit. Heād only stepped out to get groceries ā such a stupid, mundane thing, really, but the weather had been windy and terrible and Castiel knew he shouldnāt go out. But what was he to do? They were running low on food, and he wouldnāt have Dean going hungry, not when he was only just starting to eat of his own accord. Besides, the weather was only supposed to get worse over the next few days, so really, Castiel had had no choice in the matter. Heād tugged at his hat numerous times throughout the outing, but with his hands laden with bags it was impossible to keep the damn thing on him and itād wound up being blown away by a strong gust of wind.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Here, perhaps, Castiel was a bit too cocky. He thought he had got away ā the hat blew off and heād practically dove into his car, shoving the groceries into the back and peeling out of the parking lot. He thought he was fast, but the off-duty cop in the parking lot had apparently been faster. Thereād been a few moments of peace when he got back home and untied Dean (because even now, he still didnāt quite trust his mate not to wander off if left alone) and theyād started to put away their groceries together. It was everything Castiel had ever wanted, up until he noticed Deanās eyes widening and his mouth start forming unsaid words. Heād turned his mate towards him and tried to coax him into talking, his hands framing Deanās face just as the door to their cottage slammed open and cops stormed in.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Heād fought, of course. He fought to keep his hands on Dean and to keep the cops off of both of them, fought to get them out of the cottage so that they could hide away somewhere until this all blew over. He fought harder when theyād started pulling Dean away from him, desperate to get their filthy alpha hands off of his mate. Dean whimpered, their bond making him want to stay even as he yearned for his freedom, and with the amount of cops tugging at them thereās ultimately nothing Castiel can do. Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Dean is gone, and Castiel is locked away. His mate isnāt even allowed to visit him, despite the many times Castiel had yelled and screamed that it was inhuman to keep them apart. Dean was an omega, and an omega couldnāt be without their alpha ā not as long as the alpha was alive, anyway. It would lead to rejection, which would cause Deanās health to slowly deteriorate. He would lose the will to eat and move around, until eventually he dehydrated or killed himself. All they had to do, Castiel screamed, was let Dean stay with Castiel. Then he would be fine, health-wise, and Castiel wouldnāt be so worried that something terrible was happening to him.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The officers ignored him, other than when they tried to interrogate him. They were desperate, desperate for any sort of information on his many victims, but Castiel remained tightlipped. The only way heād tell them anything, he said, was if they let him see Dean again ā and any information eh gave would be directly proportional to how much Dean time he got. If Dean came to live in his cell, heād gladly start talking ā though, of course, heād have to spread the information out. He couldnāt give them everything and have them take Dean away the second he was useless, after all.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Finally, one day one of his many annoyers came in with a smirk on his face. Castiel doesnāt think much of it, not at first ā the man often smiled when he thought he had something that would make Castiel talk. So far, none of it worked.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āWanna see your mate?ā The man sneers, and Castielās head snaps up. Okay. So the man has his attention now, thatās for sure. Theyād finally caved, then, they were going to give Castiel back his mate in exchange for the supposed comfort of his many victimsā families. It was stupid, on their part ā Castiel was getting a living, breathing mate back. They werenāt getting anything. None of his kills were coming back to life. It didnāt matter if he admitted to killing them or if he showed them where some of their remains were stored away.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āI want him in here,ā Castiel says, gruffly, as he stands up. āI want to touch him, not just to see him. I want him with me.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The manās smile gets a little more pronounced, sending a small sense of worry through Castiel. Heās far too happy to be someone who is, essentially, giving in to a serial killer.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āYouāre not gonna be able to touch him,ā the man says, shaking his head. He opens the hatch to reach Castielās hands, binding them and then he bends down, opening the door to gain access to his ankles and repeating the treatment, shackling the prison and making walking a much more arduous task. Castiel isnāt sure why any of this is necessary ā what do they expect him to do, knock out one guard and somehow then manage to get past the rest, get through the locked doors and the guard dogs posted at the main entrance of the prison, and then steal a car or something so that he can drive to safety?
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āThen youāre not gonna get much,ā Castiel retorts, giving the main a smirk of his own. Heās never bothered to remember the guardās name, though he knows heās been told it numerous times.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh, I think weāll get more than you think.ā Castiel bites the inside of his cheek to keep from frowning as heās lead back into his normal interrogation room.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Later, Castiel will know that this is the first sign something is wrong. Visitations werenāt done in interrogation rooms ā even if they were planning on having Dean visit him in cop, official-business ways. Itās too small, thereās barely enough room for Castiel and the guard, let alone for Deanās built form.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā His next sign is when they continue to restrain him. Heās shackled and tied, bindings digging into his ankles, wrists, stomach and neck, keeping him from moving so much as an inch. His head is locked into place, so that his eyes are forced to stare at an old and bulky television that the guard clicks on. It rattles to life, dust falling off from the button as the guard pulls back, and the sound of static briefly floods the room. Then the display flickers on, flashing black a few times before settling on a black and white picture.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās a security feed. Castiel would know that grainy footage anywhere, though, as he squints, this one seems to become a little clearer, like the camera was moving closer or focusing in.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He quickly comes to understand why they have him restrained. There, in the center of the room on the television, tied to a chair much like Castiel is, is Dean. His shirt is off and his biceps are flexing as he heaves in desperate breaths, his head turning as he glances around the room. Castiel can see his muscles working to try and free him, tugging against his bindings angrily. These binds glint, reminding Castiel of the metal heād previously used on Dean.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āNo,ā Castiel snarls, forgetting to maintain any of his uncaring attitude, āno, you leave him out of this, heās an omega-ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āRight now, heās your omega,ā the guard smiles and pats Castiel on the head, ignoring the snarl he gets in response, āalthough, I donāt think thatāll last for much longer.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Castiel pales, eyes widening as he stares at the screen in horror. Kill him. Theyāre going to kill Dean, and ā and it was all his fault, heās not there to protect his mate and he has no idea where theyāre keeping him. Even if he gets out of here right now, heād never be able to find Dean before they finished.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOh, donāt worry,ā the man laughs and settles in on a chair beside Castiel, āweāre not planning on killing him, though Iām sure thatās what you must think. How would that look, really, a dead omega cop? āSides, Iāve heard heās actually pretty good at what he does, when heās not being taken hostage and forcibly mated. Nah, weāre just gonnaā¦fix things up for him, make his life a little better.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Castiel snarls again as the guard leans forward to invade his space, his mouth breathing nasty hot air against Castielās ear. āTell me, Castiel,ā the guard purrs, beads of saliva falling from his mouth and landing on Castielās face as he talks, āhave you ever heard of bond severing?ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā The name āCastiel Novakā had become recognizable years ago, when the man had first started his brutal rampage throughout America. A trail of mutilated corpses was left in his wake, a clear path through the thousands of miles he traveled,Ā his victims ranging in appearance. Thereās no consistent pattern to any of them, and no consistent method of execution either ā leading to an unclear body count. For the most part, whenever cops canāt figure out a murder, it gets placed under the Novak headline.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Then, one day, little notes and items start to get left at some of the crime scenes. Theyāre all signed with his name, penmanship remarkably clear and unhurried, though none of them have a name for the addressee. Itās not hard to figure out who theyāre meant for, though ā thereās only one omega police officer with ātea green eyesā and āfreckles begging to be tasted,ā after all. They pull Dean Winchester from the case fast enough, though that hardly stops the notes and presents from appearing ā now theyāve just taken a more hostile note, with some additional notes penned to the Chief with unveiled threats of more bodies unless the cop is put back on the case.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Dean winds up trying to beg his way back on the case, insisting that keeping him off doesnāt make a difference ā it just means roses and potentially tampered-with chocolates wind up being delivered straight to the precinct, where theyāre immediately sent to the lab for God knows what reasons. When Chief Singer still refuses to put him back on the case, Dean starts just showing up at the crime scenes, trailing behind other officers and lounging about, waiting for someone to cave and let him start investigating.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā It takes a while for Castiel to learn Dean Winchesterās name ā before that, his mind had always called him Freckles or Pretty, sometimes Beloved when he was feeling particularly needy and desperate for his mate.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Castiel finds that he prefers Dean on his caseā it means Dean is out of harmās way, at least for a little while. On his case, Dean was relatively safe, as Castiel would never harm his future omega mate ā and now, with Dean not on his case but still around his crime scenes, Dean is equally safe. Before, however, Dean had been free to work other cases ā cases where he could get hurt, and Castiel found he had started to get a little more sloppy due to the constant worry that something would happen to him. He couldnāt afford to get caught, not when he finally had found his light, his redemption ā he was born to care for Dean Winchester, and succeeding in taking care of him would certainly provide him with the redemption and satisfaction he needed in life.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā His mate never seems to respond well to him, though. The few times Castiel had stayed behind to watch the man, heād swallowed and glanced around nervously upon reading the loving letters, and heād never once opened the chocolates Castiel left behind for him. It makes Castiel angry, but he canāt say he blames the man ā itās not like Dean knows him personally, not yet. Dean hadnāt met him, so he couldnāt feel the draw to trust yet. Once Castiel steps forward to claim him, things would be different ā Dean would smile instead of shudder, and eat food out of his hand like a good omega mate should.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Itās supposed to be just another visit ā Castiel had gotten antsy, fingers curling restless in his lap as he drove, until finally he gave in to his desires and veered the car into a U-turn, heading back towards where heād last seen Deanās unit set up shop. It takes him a day to get there, his thoughts plagued with green eyes and broad, freckled shoulders, and heās barely there five minutes before heās slamming his car door shut and looking for his mate, hat pulled down to hide his eyes despite the coverage of the night.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He first goes to Deanās house ā heād scoped it out months ago, after learning the manās name, humming in displeasure when he saw it. His mate deserved to live somewhere much better, somewhere where the fridge actually had food and the mattress didnāt sit on the floor. It led to an addition on Castielās profile, as he started stealing as much as he could from his victims and stockpiling it away for when heād need it. Heād taken some money before, sure, but never a lot ā now he found himself purposely selecting victims who looked a little richer than most.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Except Dean isnāt there ā the lights are all off, and his bed is unmade and without a warm body. It sends a pang of panic through Castiel, as he practically tears apart the city on a quest for his mate, until finally he winds up pushing his way through a drunken bar crowd, led on by the slight smell of his mate. He hopes itās not an old trail āif this is another false lead, the sixth after hours of frantic searching, heās going to wind up killing someone to vent his frustration.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He doesnāt have to. His mate is just leaving, stumbling and looking a little too drunk to be driving anyway, led on by a taller man whose build and scent scream alpha. Castiel bristles and growls, biting his tongue to silence the sound when it gets him a little too much attention, and quickly follows after the two.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Heād taken too long in claiming his mate ā someone else is trying for him, and Dean is too drunk to even hope to defend himself. Not to mention, even an omega police officer can be overpowered ā and in this crowd, an omega trying to fight against an alpha is just likely to bring more alphas on him, all converging in their lust-filled desire to put the ābitchā back into place.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He tears the alphaās arm off of Dean, smiling when the sound of a sick crack fills the air as it snaps. Dean stumbles against a wall, shock widening his eyes and freezing him in place as Castiel sets about beating the man whoād dared touch what was his ā his fist connects with the other alphaās face three times before Dean suddenly reacts and jerks forward, throwing himself at Castiel in an attempt to get him to stop.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Castiel just growls again, lifting the alpha up by his shoulders and slamming him into the ground, his head cracking and bouncing against the pavement as a bloody pool starts to form. His breathing shudders to a stop, and Castiel brushes his hands against the manās shirt to clean them off before rounding on Dean, whose eyes are still enticingly wide and whose mouth is parted in shock and fear.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āDonāt worry,ā Castiel mutters, fingers brushing against sharp cheekbones as he tries to soothe the man, "I got you, I got here in time.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āYou just killed-ā Dean exhales, eyes drifting towards the body, until Castiel moves to block it from his sight. He doesnāt want Deanās eyes on anyone but himself, doesnāt want that alpha to have any more of his mates attention.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āHe was going to try and claim what doesnāt belong to him,ā Castiel explains. āI couldnāt let him do that.ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āWhat doesn't-ā Dean says, lips pursing in concentration as his drunken mind attempts to come up with an answer to the vague sentence, āyou ā you donāt mean me, right?" He stutters out, finally, hands reaching up to push against Castielās chest in a desperate bid for distance.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āOf course I do, Dean,ā Castiel says, pulling Dean flush against him and pressing his head into the crook of the officerās neck, breath huffing out as his lips drift along blue veins. His mateās heartbeat is pounding, so Castiel starts running a hand down along his spine to calm him.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āIām not yours,ā Dean tries to shake his head, terror building in him when Castiel keeps him from moving, āand ā and Iām a cop, man, you have any idea what a shitty idea this is? Youāre in a fuckton of trouble, youāve already got a case of murder against you. Donāt add anything to that, alright, letās just-ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Castiel laughs and presses a soft kiss against Deanās neck before pulling back. His hand reaches up to pull off his cap so he can toss it to the side, no longer caring to hide his appearance.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā He can tell the second Dean recognizes him, his body going rigid and his hands resuming their pounding rhythm against Castielās chest. It sends a dull ache through him ā the physical pain as well as emotion, as Dean still doesnāt seem to understand that theyāre mates. Heād heard stories of omegas not initially responding to their alpha, heat suppressants were known to mask recognition and dull senses, but Castiel hadnāt thought to check and see if Dean was on such medications. It would only make sense, he supposes ā heād never seen Dean go into heat, and it wouldnāt go well to go into such a state when working an important case.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Still, Castiel wanted his recognition to lead to Deanās complacency and love, not to further his mateās struggles against him. Ā
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āLet go of me, you fucking-ā Deanās words have lost the slurred lisp to them, fear causing adrenaline to chase away the drunken edge to his thoughts. Castiel just laughs, one hand slipping away from Dean to fish through the pocket of his trench coat, searching out the needle he always kept on hand. He slips the cap off without bothering to look, experience lending a valued hand, and raises it up out of his pocket slowly. Heās hoping, perhaps foolishly, that Dean will stop struggling once he recognizes the object, to make it a little easier for Castiel to stab it into him without unintendedly missing. Instead, Dean just struggles more, mouth opening as if in preparation for a scream. Castiel growls and jabs the needle into him, pressing down on the plunger and injecting him with the sedative.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Dean grunts in pain as the needle pierces his skin, a cold rush running through his body as the fast-acting sedative starts to take control, making his limbs feel too heavy to support. He slips forward, half-expecting to collide face-first with the cold and bloody pavement, only to have Castiel hastily move to grab him, one arm pressing against Deanās back while the other swings under his legs, scooping him up bridal-style.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Dean grumbles, his tongue feels like lead and he couldnāt seem to get any words out, and he can barely make out the sound of Castielās laughter as they start moving. His mind is focused on making his hands and legs move, determined to try and swing out of Castielās grip, but he canāt tell if his body is obeying him or not.
Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā Ā āSsh,ā Castiel lifts him up a little and presses Deanās face into his shoulder. āItās all gonna be okay, Dean, just go to sleep. Iāll be right here when you wake up, promise. And then,ā Castiel laughs again, his fingers sliding against the parts of Dean he can still reach. Dean squeezes his eyes shut, desperately hoping heās just imagined the last few words, though with what Castiel said about ownership, heās terrified to admit their likely truthfulness, āthen, I believe I have some freckles to taste.ā
AU where Dean and Cas meet at the library realizing they both have a fascination with murder mysteries.
Dean ask Cas out and they're together a year before Dean comes home one day and Cas is in the middle of bleeding a person out and then he just shoots him in the face because he doesn't want Dean to see that he kills for fun.
And then Dean just walks in like 'What the fuck baby?' And Cas just kind of confesses that he kills people for fun, that he likes to bleed them out and break their bones and Dean is just like 'No, I know that angel, I mean why the fuck did you shoot him in the face when you were clearly in the middle of it?' and then Cas just kisses him and they fuckĀ next to the dead body and from then on Dean helps pick the victims.
Based off of this post.Ā (serial killer!cas, serial killer!dean)
The first time Dean had heard of him, heād been impressed. Triple homicide right under the sheriffās nose? Very obviously leaving just too little evidence for a conviction?
The guy was good.
And yeah, Dean had been impressedā¦ and maybe even a little turned on when the new kid on the block smiled all sugary sweet for the cameras, playing innocent with his brows knitting and baby blues watering appropriately, big trenchcoat hanging off his frame. He looked like a normal guy. Maybe a tax accountant. But Dean knew the look in the kidās eyes; that hungry, dead, and slightly crazed glint he knew to watch for.
Castiel couldnāt be kept in custody despite the fact that everyone knew heād committed the murders, and it wasnāt long before he made a reputation for himself; death and destruction following wherever he cropped up. It was impressive, the way heād disappear for weeks or months at a time, only to show up for a split secondājust long enough to be recognizedātake a life or two and vanish into thin air. Even Dean, whoād been at this for a damn long time (and for all his experience was one thousand times better), had to admit Castielās disappearing acts were good. Again, Dean respected the kidā¦ This wasnāt an easy business to break into.
But thenĀ itĀ happened.
It: New York City. Castiel broke into the mayorās house, put a bullet through the manās left eyeball, and carved a smiley face into the heel of his right foot. The kid hanged the body from the ceiling fan, smiling at the security camera as he walked out of the building.
And then Dean wasĀ pissed. Because hanging people? The smiley face? Those wereĀ his things. Who did this new guy think he was?!?Ā Castiel. What kind of fucking name was Castiel, anyway? They called him the Angel of Death. Ha. How fucking unoriginal.Ā Tacky. And the way Castiel broke the shoulder blades of his victims and tied āem up to resemble wings? Tasteless. It was overkill.
Dean, at least, had class. It wasnāt like he lacked for creativity, but his kills were always clean, and there was always a cute little smile for the forensics team. Hell, sometimes, when he was feeling particularly creative, heād carve other thingsā¦ When heād been just starting out, heād managed to recreate the Mona Lisa using only internal organs. Well, and the eyeballs. Heād searched high and low for someone with just the right colour irises.
Anyway, DeanĀ hatedĀ guns. Since heād found his mother with a .45 in her hands, lying in a pool of her own blood, Dean had always hated them. Everybody knew that. Everybody. Just like everybody knew that his momās left eye had taken the bullet.
Dean wasĀ infamous. This was his turf- No, hisĀ worldā¦ and this new guy, he wasnāt gonna fuck any of that up. Castiel wanted to play? He wanted to flirt? Dean would not disappoint. Heād flirt the guy into a noose.
Smiling, the young man looked through the crime scene photos one last time, biting his lip. He hadnāt had a playmate in a good long whileā¦ Not since that copycat in St. Louis.
This was gonna be fun.
The next couple of months were huge: Dean spent most of his time in the papers, purposefully getting caught on camera. He smiled and winked and carved with grand flourishes, using prettily coloured rope and watching his targets swing and cough and choke with newfound excitement. Not that his job wasnāt always thrilling, but to know there was gonna be someone watching? To know that eventually, he was gonna watch that someone dance from the rafters, blue eyes boggling and bloodshot and pretty?
It was exhilarating. And maybe a little hot.
Hey, the Angel was attractive.
Castiel responded in kind to Deanās advances, his favourite message for the light-haired man being when heād found two victims that had a striking resemblance to both himself and Dean. Cas had broken into a church and had strung them up like fallen angels, praying at the altar. He hoped Dean had been impressed.
Dean had been.
He also hoped Dean was ready to be strung up himself; Castiel was not in the habit of competing with other people for attention.
Ā ***
āWell well well, if it aināt the Angel of Death himself. Gotta sayā¦ I thought youād be taller.ā
Castiel smirked, finishing off the last touches on his kill before turning around, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side. He grinned. āDean Winchester. To what do I owe the pleasure?ā Cas removed his gloves, the plastic making a loud cracking noise in the large, spacious office. His kill had been a CEO of some sort. Castiel didnāt remember the details; only that he had been pretty, he had been important, and now he would ascend to Heaven, winged and pure.
āHeard you were a fan,ā Dean smiled, fingers itching at his sides. āJust thought Iād give you a private lesson.ā
Cas raised a brow, tossing the gloves onto the floor. āOh, Iād hardly call myself a fanā¦ More of an astute observer of your work. I can appreciate it, I suppose, but God only knows where your fanbase comes from: youāre sloppy.ā
They pushed and pulled at each other, kicking and punching and clawing at clothing and skin. For every hit Dean landed, Cas landed one in return, though the former was stronger and better equipped for this kind of fight. Castiel was fast, however, and he knew Dean would grow tired more quickly. He danced around the office, watching as his foe knocked over various pieces of furniture, though both men were careful to stay away from the angelic CEO.
If there was one thing they could agree on, it was that art should never be destroyed.
āCome on, you pansy ass piece of shit. What the fuck are you waiting for?ā
āThis.ā
And in one smooth, quick movement, Dean was pressed up against the wall, Castielās hands at his throat. āAnd so the student surpasses the teacher,ā the Angel said solemnly, though the corner of his mouth quirked up in a grin. He squeezed.
Dean wheezed a smile, choking under Casā graceful fingers: āNot yet.ā
In a split second the tables were turned: Dean was flush against Castiel, their legs slotted together and noses a fraction away from touching as the light-haired man grinned charmingly. He held another small blade to the Angelās neck, Cas grunting a smile as it bit into his flesh.
āYou know,ā Dean said conversationally. āYou make yourself out to be way smarter on the newsā¦ But hey, at least youāre just as pretty.ā
Castiel chuckled, wriggling against both the wall and Dean. He didnāt miss the way his foe bit his lip at the friction. Sighing, Castiel leaned forward, forehead-to-forehead with Dean as he looked into green eyes, unblinking. āYouāre a lot smarter than you look.ā The ākā was overly articulated, a drop of spit landing on the otherās bottom lip.
Dean smirked, tongue catching the moisture easily. āBabe, didnāt you hear? Iām theĀ entire package.ā He punctuated his sentence with a light thrust of his hips, smirk widening as Castielās pupils blew wide. āYou like that, Angel?ā
Cas smiled, huffing a laugh as he thrust his own hips in return. āCāmon, big boy,ā he breathed, slow and tauntingly. āYou gonna have you way with me or what?ā
For what it was worth, Dean had really gone in with the intent to kill the son of a bitch.
Growling, the young man crushed his mouth to that of his blue-eyed counterpart, fingers tangling in dark locks as he ground Castiel into the wall. The Angel mewled in response, his hand moving back to fist the material of Deanās shirt. Their lips were bruised and knuckles white as they pulled at each other in an entirely different manner than before, hissing and groaning through delicious friction.
Dean had, by now, dropped the knife, his right hand moving down to lightly caress Casā thigh. Castiel smirked, hiking his leg up without being asked twice, brows furrowing as Dean ground their hips together. Cas moaned.
It was the prettiest sound Dean had ever heard.
Repeating the action, the young man licked his way into the otherās mouth, grunting when Castiel began to move with him, the blue-eyed manās hands slipping underneath his shirt. The Angel pushed the material up and up and up, graceful fingers brushing Deanās lovely dark nipples. Dean faltered, hand dropping from Casā thigh as he thrust against Castiel more sharply then before, sparks of heat and pleasure shooting up his spinal column. It hurt. Fuck, he was so hard itĀ hurt.
It hurtĀ so good.
Cas briefly considered taking control, but the thought was lost as Dean moved down to his neck, suckling at his pulse point hard enough to leave a bruise. He moved down then, biting at Castielās collarbone for good measure before pulling back, eyes bright and face flushed. Cas doubted he had ever seen anything so gorgeous.
āWanna get out of here?ā Dean asked breathlessly, licking his swollen lips.
Castiel smiled, the expression more soft as he leaned forward, pressing a light and almost loving kiss to his partnerās mouth. āI thought youād never ask.ā
