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13 November 2016 @ 04:16 am
Poisk Istiny [Finding Truth] - Chapter Two A  


Nebesnyy Lyuks
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


“Well, that went well,” Sam commented as Bobby opened the door to Dean’s suite and the three of them filed in. Sam went immediately over to the bar and poured himself a scotch. Dean watched him for a moment before following after him and getting his own drink.

“Bobby?” His voice lifted in question as he held up a third glass.

“Naw,” Bobby answered, instead taking his place on a large recliner chair in the center of the large living area. “I’m sure we will be frequenting the club again, knowing you two idjits.”

Dean nodded slowly and sipped his drink as he walked to the leather couch and sank down on one end. Sam followed suit and the three sat together in silence, reflecting on the meeting with the Bratva.

“So… we’re staying one more night?” Sam broke the silence and the pair turned their attention to Dean.

“One more, maybe two,” Dean nodded, finishing off his drink. “I want you to find housing for our Capos and crew… I’m sure Pakhan Krushnic will not want to house thirty-three people here in his hotel.” Dean turned and looked at Bobby. “I would’ve suggested finding Gabriel, but I don’t think that would be wise right now.”

“I’ll take care of it,” Bobby assured him and then leaned forward in the chair. “Which Capos are we sending?”

“I’m thinking Gordon, Cole and Rufus. I want Benny to stay at home, and I trust Rufus to get the right information.”

Bobby nodded, thinking, and then pushed out of the chair. “I’ll see what I can do for housing arrangements. Would be easier if we had some sort of damn time line…”

“Yeah, well, hopefully short. I don’t want to be handing over twenty percent for very long, Bobby,” Dean sighed and Sam nodded his agreement as Bobby took his leave. Beside him, Sam was slowly swirling the remaining sip of scotch in his glass and Dean exhaled slowly. “Hey, Sammy?”

“Hmmm?” Sam replied, tipping the glass back and emptying it before looking over at his brother.

“Did you happen to scent oranges in the meeting?”

Sam stared at him for a second, confused, and shook his head. “You mean like, someone was eating oranges? Dude, all I smelled was that freaking blood for the entire meeting. I think I can still smell it…”

“No, no, not the fruit…. Like, orange blossoms. Omega scent.” Dean waited, watching Sam’s face carefully for any sort of recognition.

“No… I think the guy next to me had about four different Omega scents left over on his skin… but nothing citrusy. Why?”

“No reason.” Dean shook his head and crossed his legs, leaning onto the arm of the couch. “Those Krushnics sure smell… sprucy, don’t they?”

“Dude.” Sam rolled his eyes and stood, taking his and Dean’s glass with him. “Stop with the scenting. It’s fucking weird.”

“Right.” Dean nodded and watched as his brother put the glasses away and stretched. “How about you let Rufus know about the plans, tell him to let Gordon and Cole know. I’ll check in with Benny and see about the damage on the newest shipment.”

Sam nodded and was pulling out his phone as he headed for the door. Dean sat there for another minute and looked down at his hands folded across his lap. There were a few stray drops of blood dried onto the back of his hand, and he ran his thumb over one of them as he remembered how Castiel looked with blood streaked down his face.

Dean wasn’t sure what game the Krushnics were playing, having an Omega posing as an Alpha and as the Pakhan of the Bratva… He didn’t know why he was the only one who seemed to be able to scent Castiel for the gender he truly is, but he couldn’t deny that the Omega got shit done and looked fucking hot while he did it. As the blood flaked from his skin he wondered briefly what it would’ve been like to lick the blood from Castiel’s skin, copper and salt flooding his senses…

“Dangerous territory, Winchester,” Dean snapped himself from his thoughts and shifted to pull out his phone. He scrolled through his contacts until he found Benny Lafitte. He pressed the contact as he reminded himself, “Stick to business.”



Castiel’s Office
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


Castiel found his brother already halfway through a bottle of Stolichnaya Elit, slumped forward on the desk, head on top of his crossed arms and the vodka spilling onto the floor. He sat down across from Gabriel and reached over, taking the bottle carefully from his brother’s hands and taking a large swig for himself. He had never seen his big brother look this broken, so lost. He had always been there for Castiel growing up, he had always been so strong that Castiel had almost forgotten he was human too. But in this moment, seeing his brother so devastated was a rude awakening. “Gabriel--”

Gabriel lifted his head and shook it, his eyes bloodshot and glassy, cheeks tear streaked. He licked his lips slowly, swallowing hard before he spoke. “Don’t. Just don't apologize again. Tell me we will kill these fuckers instead.”

Castiel clenched his jaw, his stomach twisting as he watched a multitude of emotions that he couldn’t himself comprehend, cross his brother’s face. “I swear to you Gabriel, we will find every single person involved and we will take them and their whole family out for what they have done to you.”

Gabriel took the bottle back from his brother and chugged a fair amount. “I was going to be a father, Castiel. You know how much I have always wanted to be a dad.”

Castiel nodded, not knowing what to say to soothe his brother. Omega’s were supposed to be caregivers and know how to handle situations like this, but not Castiel. He wasn't raised as an Omega. The best he could do was promise his brother revenge.

They sat in silence, passing the bottle back and forth until a soft knock at the door drew them both out of their thoughts. “Come in,” Gabriel slurred.

Their brother Balthazar entered, looking solemn. “Gabriel, I’m so sorry.”

Gabriel tossed the bottle across the room, shattering it against the door. “Don’t fuckin’ apologize to me! Just tell me you know why - why they did this to her.”

Balthazar nodded and Castiel sat straight up in his seat. “I do know the message that was written...” Balthazar paused and took a deep breath. “It was written in blood on the walls of your apartment. It said ‘Work with the Winchesters, more will die.’ Castiel,” he turned to his Pakhan, “do you think--”

Castiel growled, “No one tells me who I can do business with, least of all Bellomo! He will pay for this and we need the Winchesters on our side to ensure this.” Castiel looked back at Gabriel who’s head was laying on the desk and he was snoring lightly.

Castiel turned back to Balthazar. “You take him home with you. Do not let him out of your sight and do not let him go to his apartment.” He stood and smoothed down his sleeves. “Call the cleaners, have them come in and take care of the mess. Get the Boyeviks onto finding out who did this. I want their names… everyone that was involved.”

Balthazar nodded. “Yes, Pakhan.” He rounded the table to help Gabriel up.

“I will be here in my office or at the bar, contact me if you hear anything or if he,” Castiel pointed at Gabriel, “needs me.”

Balthazar hefted Gabriel up, supporting his brother beneath his arm. “I will.”

“Take care of him, Balthazar.”

“You know I will, Castiel. And when we find out who did this?” He hitched Gabriel tighter and got his brother’s dead weight settled against his left side. “It will not be the Boyeviks who take care of this. It will be the Krushnic brothers.”

Castiel nodded. “You are right, brat, I agree.” He followed his brothers through the club and to the service elevator, helping to get Gabriel loaded into Balthazar’s car once they got to the staff garage, before going back to his office.

Castiel sat at his desk thinking about the events of the day. It had been a shitstorm. He found out the Alpha from last night was none other than Don Winchester, he’d had to take care of Malachi, and now this? Kali had been a great woman, perfect for his brother, and to find out he would have been an Uncle... it hurt.

He closed his eyes and pictured the expression on his brother’s face once more, knowing that would haunt him for far longer than it would take to get the revenge Gabriel deserved. Castiel would never have a mate, would never know the joy he watched his brother experience over the last eight years, and he felt guilty for being slightly grateful he would never have to experience this. A loss so gut wrenching it was destroying his brother from the inside out.

He trusted his Bratva to get the names, and soon, and knew that when they did every single one of those men would watch their own families die before they met a bloody end themselves. But for Gabriel...

Castiel sighed. God, he needed a drink. He looked down at his watch; it was still two hours before the bar opened and although he knew he could get someone in early to get him a drink, he much preferred to be alone. Castiel opened the bottom drawer of his desk and pulled out another bottle of Stolichnaya Elit.



Nebesnyy Lyuks
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


“What?” Dean called out, lifting his head from where it had been beneath a large, feather down pillow. He’d stayed in some nice places before, it came with the perks of the job after all, but these Russians knew how to set up a bedroom. He was sprawled naked across the large king sized bed, the pillow blocking out the morning sunlight that was now pouring through the large bay windows and warming his skin.

“Hey, I got in touch with-- Dean! What the fuck!” The door slammed shut and Dean snorted a laugh as he rolled over onto his back and looked towards the door. “You could’ve told me you were naked!” Sam called from the other side of the door. Dean didn’t need to see his brother to picture the expression on his face.

“Yeah, sorry. I’m covered.” Dean smirked and waited for Sam to open the door once more.

“You’re an asshole!” With the second slam of the door Dean chuckled to himself and slid off of the bed, the satin sheets definitely something he would have to get for his own bed back home. He padded across the plush carpeted floor to the Heavenly Suite’s bathroom -- complete with a tub that Dean was sure he could fit more than six adults in-- and pulled on a dark blue bathrobe.

When he exited the bedroom, Sam was waiting for him in the living area with his arms crossed.

“You’re a jerk.”

“And you’re a bitch,” Dean replied with a smile as he threw himself onto the couch across from his brother. Sam’s expression didn’t change and Dean rolled his eyes. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry you’re jealous that I’m packing way more heat than you could ever hope to have.”

A pillow slammed into the side of his head for his trouble.

“Will you two idjits cut the crap?” Bobby’s voice was stern, instantly reminding Dean of his late father, and he dropped the pillow he was about to launch back across the room to his side.

“Here.” Bobby shoved a warm cup of coffee into his hands. Dean nodded gratefully at the older man as he took a long sip.

“Thank you, Bobby,” Sam said, accepting a cup of coffee for himself and crossing his legs as he relaxed back into the chair.

“If you two are done acting like children, we can finish up the business we came here to do and then you two can go off an’ do whatever you damn well please.” Bobby looked at both of them, but there was a slight smile at the corner of his lips.

“Alright, alright.” Dean rolled his eyes and smirked at Sam over the rim of his coffee cup as he took another sip. “Go ahead, Sammy. What do you got for me?”

“Well,” Sam started, still glaring at his brother, “Rufus seemed pretty accepting of the idea. He asked how long they had to get their soldiers ready, asked for a timeline for the families and such, and I told him to tell them at least a few months. I told him to be here within the week, figured that would be enough time?”

Dean nodded and Bobby grunted his agreement.

Sam continued, “So that went through okay. As I went to see how Bobby was doing on the housing, I got a phone call from Gordon…” Sam trailed off and shook his head. “Gordon seemed to forget his place for a moment. Thought that maybe Rufus had misheard something because, surely, he wasn’t being sent to ‘fucking New York for bitch work’.”

“Did you remind him of his place?” Dean asked, setting his mug down on the coffee table and leaning forward. He could feel his temperature starting to rise. Gordon Walker was a Capo that had advanced from Soldier in John’s time as Boss of the Patriarca Crime Family. Since Dean had taken over, and more specifically since Sam became the Underboss, Gordon had found himself needing to be reminded of his place more often than Dean liked.

“Of course I did,” Sam replied. “I reminded him that he could very easily stay back home in Boston and find himself shelved. Chuck Shurley has been doing a fine job and might like the promotion to street Capo.”

“I’m sure he liked hearin’ that,” Bobby snorted and Sam threw him a small smile.

“Oh, of course he did,” Sam agreed, relaxing further into the chair. He rolled his eyes, irritation at the situation plain on his face. “Shut his mouth pretty damn quick and asked how long he had to get his wife and kid situated before he came out.”

“This is the last straw for him,” Dean warned, reaching for his coffee again and meeting his brother’s eyes. “I’m sick of the challenge to your authority, to mine. I don’t give a fuck what he thinks! If I tell him he’s coming to New York? He’s coming to New York. If I tell him he’s going to be scouting information? He damn well better be getting me some information!” Dean slammed his coffee cup back on the table and Bobby and Sam stayed silent, nodding their agreement as they waited for Dean to take a deep breath. Dean licked his lower lip, then said, “I want Adam moved into his crew.”

“Why Adam?” Sam asked, shaking his head.

“Because Adam is family, and he’s blood,” Dean answered, then leaned forward. “And because I said so. I want family with Gordon. Garth is good, and so is Chuck, but I want Adam to be my ears.”

“Gordon is just on a power trip. He’s a Beta with an Alpha hard-on. He thinks he’s some big shit and he wants everyone else to think he’s that too. He’s harmless, Dean.” Sam shrugged off Dean’s concerns but pulled out his phone. “Might be good to keep Ben Braden back in Boston anyway… I’m sure you’d hear from his mother.”

“This is why we shouldn’t accept children,” Dean groaned, running a hand down his face as he thought of what Lisa Braden would say. It was only due to obligation that they’d accepted the late James Braden’s son into the family. Beside him, Bobby let out a small laugh.

“Braden is as old as you were when your Daddy had you out on the streets.”

“Yeah, well, Braden hadn’t even seen a gun in person until he was twenty-four so…”

“Can’t all be as lucky as you two,” Bobby answered and shrugged when Dean rolled his head to look at him. “Alright, so I got some housing in Brighton and some in Brooklyn. I figured Cole could take the housing with his crew in Brooklyn. Figured you’d want Rufus near Gordon anyhow.”

Dean nodded his head in agreement.

“Now, I’m sure the 116th won’t take too kindly to us moving in…” Bobby continued after a short pause, “On my way up, I found out the reason Gabriel Krushnic’s wife was killed…”

Dean met Bobby’s eyes and knew without him saying it what that reason was. “They weren’t too happy about the Bratva meeting with us… I’m sure the Pakhan didn’t take kindly to being threatened.”

“Oh, I’ve no doubt he’ll be utilizing our soldiers for more intel than just how our shipments are being intercepted,” Bobby answered back and across from them, Sam nodded silently.

They sat in silence, finishing their coffee and lost in thought. Although Dean had seen the initial reaction to Gabriel Krushnic finding out about his wife’s murder, he couldn’t imagine what the man was feeling now. To lose a mate… It destroyed his father, got him sent into an early grave once he gained his revenge. Dean definitely didn’t envy him.

“So are we free?” Sam broke the silence, draining his coffee as he got up from the chair and brought his mug into the kitchen. “Because I would really like to go for a run and do some research on the 116th… Tonight I would like to see if that Omega I was dancing with the other night will be back. Am I allowed to enjoy myself this evening, Don Winchester?”

Dean chucked the pillow over his head in the direction of the kitchen and heard his brother swear as the mug he’d carried crashed to the floor. “They’re going to charge you for that!” Sam yelled, stepping around the broken ceramic.

“Go, drink too much, get laid by the death-woman.” Dean smirked at the glare thrown in his direction. “Or even better, find someone who doesn’t smell like crap!”

“Like your orange scent? I’ll save the fruity Omegas for you.” It was Dean’s turn to glare as his brother left the suite to make it back to his own room. Bobby stood next, muttering under his breath about the two of them. Dean waited until the main doors closed and then stripped down and crawled back onto the oversized bed.

It had been a long road for him and Sam to get into the positions they were in, despite their father being one of the greatest Bosses the Patriarca Family had ever had. No matter where they went, even outside of Boston where they did most of their public business, people knew who they were. People were involved in their lives. For Castiel Krushnic to have kept his true gender a secret… Dean just didn’t know how he did it.

It took balls, that was for sure. Their families were similar enough that Dean knew if anyone found out Castiel was an Omega, the man wouldn’t live another day. His family would not only be angry at being lied to, betrayed and fooled, they would be murderous. Dean himself was no stranger to walking a fine line of life and death, but getting up every day and facing the people that could very possibly hold your life in your hands? Castiel was brave.

Everything Dean knew about Omegas would never lead him to assume they would even be comfortable in the type of position he and Castiel held. They had a drive for a family, comfort and safety from their Alpha or Beta. Watching Castiel today as he brutally served his sentence over the thief in the Bratva, he never would’ve believed he was an Omega if he hadn’t been able to smell the sweet, orange blossom scent over the coppery tinge of blood.

Dean let his eyes fall closed and he played that scene out in his head again. In the brightly lit golden room, Dean swore he could see every drop of blood that fell against Castiel’s olive-toned skin. There was one, stubborn drop that had fallen onto his bottom lip and Dean was transfixed. Now, in his solitude, Dean let his tongue dart out to trace his own lip, and he fell asleep wondering if Castiel would taste like citrus, too.

Dean woke up to the sound of knocking and a soft, “Food service!” being called through the suite. He waited a minute, sure the delivery woman was gone, and then walked out into the kitchen naked. He smiled when he saw Bobby had ordered him a Texas sized burger, complete with onion straws both inside and on the side of the burger.

“Thank you, Bobby!” Dean said aloud around a bite of the burger as he slid into a stool at the kitchen island. A quick glance at the clock told him he’d slept most of the day, skipping both breakfast--save the coffee Bobby had gotten him that morning-- and lunch. Starving, he ate his food quickly, licking burger juice and ketchup from his fingers before sliding the plate away.

He wondered if Sam was already down in the club, trying to pick up Ms. Posey or not, and decided that it would be good to see if he could pick up someone of his own. He made his way to the shower, washing himself quickly, and then pulled on a pair of dark jeans and a black Henley, glad that it was only Sam and Bobby who would see him this dressed down. He paused at the door, wondering what the Bratva would think of seeing the Patriarca’s Boss wearing jeans, but decided he didn’t care.

Like the first night they were there, the club was busy -- packed and crowded. But tonight, it was hot, and Dean found the mingling scents of arousal and alcohol almost nauseating. He paused at one of the stages, half watching the show that a small, young Omega was putting on with the use of a pole, before he moved on.

He could see Sam dancing in the center of the floor and smirked when he realized that neither of the pretty Omega’s grinding on him were the posey girl from the first night. He looked around and found himself scanning the bar, his eyes falling on the same two seats he and Castiel had sat in to share their drinks. He let his eyes trail over the people at the bar, wondering why the hell he was so interested in seeing the Pakhan again when the man had made it clear that he wanted nothing to do with Dean --especially now.

At the far end of the club Dean saw the large door he’d gone through the morning before with Gabriel, and recognized two of the Bratva’s men who had disposed of the traitor’s body standing guard. Dean waited a beat, and before he knew it he was striding over to them.

He watched as both men stiffened at his approach, the one on the left moving his hand to his back where Dean had no doubt his gun was secured. They paused as they took him in, recognizing him though only relaxing slightly.

“Don Winchester,” one of them spoke, giving him the once over. “How may we help you?”

“Evening. I just came down to see the Pakhan.” Dean smiled at them and took another step forward only to be stopped by a firm hand.

“I’m sorry, Don Winchester. We cannot let you in without an invitation.”

“Oh, M-Michael didn’t tell you?” Dean asked, cocking his head and hoping to God he’d got one of the brother’s names right. When the two men exchanged a glance, clearly confused, Dean pressed on. “Yeah, Michael informed my Consigliere Bobby that the Pakhan requested my presence in a private meeting about the attack on Mrs. Krushnic yesterday.”

Dean held his breath and waited.

“Oh, Michael did not inform us of his meeting…” The man to the left shifted his weight, ready to move out of Dean’s way but was stopped by the other.

“We can get the Pakhan for you,” he said, still staring at Dean.

“Oh, sure. I mean, I’m sure he wants to speak about personal family business out here in the club where anyone can listen to us.” Dean shrugged. “I’m sure he’ll also be extremely impressed that I’m late because I was stopped at the door.” The pair of the guards shifted uncomfortably, and Dean forced himself not to raise an eyebrow at them. If these were his men, he would’ve expected them to stand strong, stand their ground. As it were… “It’s not like he's trying to comfort his brother in his time of need or anything. I know that if roles were reversed?” Dean’s voice was as hard as steel, “I would have an extremely short temper right now…”

Hook, line, and sinker…

“It’s the last door on the right,” the first man offered, pulling out of his partner’s grasp and opening the door for him. “Our pardons, Don Winchester. The Pakhan is waiting for you.”

“Thank you,” Dean smiled at them both as he slipped through the door into the brightly lit hallway. He passed the Zolotoy Komnate from their meeting that morning and three doors that he assumed were offices until he came to the last door on the right as he’d been directed. The door was closed and no light came from the bottom crack of the door, but Dean was sure if the Pakhan wasn’t in his office, the bodyguards at the door would’ve told him so.

Dean stood before the door and raised his hand, giving three hard raps to the door. He waited, half wondering what the hell he was going to say if Castiel did open the door and half wondering what he would say when he had to walk back to the club because the room was really empty, letting the bodyguards know that he lied.

He was spared thinking of either response when the door was wrenched open and the smell of vodka and vomit, muddled with orange blossoms, old blood and body sweat hit him full on. Castiel was pressed against the door, the heavy wood seemingly the only thing holding him in place, and Dean’s eyes widened as he realized the Omega was still wearing the blood soaked clothes he had on when he left their meeting, though the tie was half loose and askew along with half the buttons of his white shirt missing.

“Uh,” was the only thing Dean could come up with. Smooth, Winchester. “Are… you okay?”

Castiel pulled his head up, the movement slow and jerky. His hair was pulled in all different directions, his skin ashen, and Dean almost wondered if making the man answer a question would result in him emptying the contents of his stomach instead.

“Do I fuckin’ look okay to you?” Castiel slurred.

Dean opened his mouth but snapped it shut, not knowing what to say. He waited a second and then took a step forward. “Come on,” he said as he reached for the light switch, flooding the large office with light. Castiel hissed, nearly falling over as he flinched and threw an arm up to cover his eyes. “Let’s get you over onto the couch. You look like you’re about to fall down.”

Castiel snorted, “Wouldn’t be the first time today.” He paused and added in as an afterthought, “And probably not the last.”

“Jesus Christ, Cas.” Dean reached for the man as he pushed off the door and plummeted towards the carpet. Dean got himself underneath his shoulders and kicked the door closed behind them, half dragging the Omega over to the couch and depositing him there before going back to lock the office door. “How much did you drink? It smells like a goddamn distillery in here…”

Castiel hummed, his eyes closed and relaxed as he settled against the couch cushions. “The equivalent of a liquor store… A very expensive liquor store.” Castiel furrowed his brows. “And what did you just call me?”

Dean looked around the room and saw the small trashcan beside the large desk in the center of the room was overflowing with glass bottles. He shook his head and then looked over at Castiel, suddenly feeling oddly shy when the man’s gaze seemed to clear and he stared straight into Dean’s eyes. “Um… Cas? I don’t know. Just… came out.”

Castiel clicked his tongue and shook his head, the movement seeming to make him dizzy as he raised a hand to hold his forehead. “Hmmm, I don't like it, never call me that again or I might have to shoot you.”

“Your brothers never called you Cas? Are you Russians always so formal?” Dean gave a slight chuckle but morphed it into a cough when he caught Castiel’s expression through his spread fingers. “Right, well… I think you need to drink something that isn’t alcohol. Do you have any water in that fridge of yours?”

Castiel pointed to the half empty bottle of vodka on his desk. “I would much rather have the rest of that.” He looked at Dean and smirked. “It's Russian water.”

“Yeah, well, welcome to New York.” Dean pushed off of the couch, ignoring the pout that crossed Castiel’s face and went to the fridge at the corner of the room. He pulled it open and saw it was fully stocked with different types of beer, soft drinks, and water. He grabbed a bottle of Fiji and cracked the top before walking it back over to Castiel. “Here, drink.”

Castiel accepted the water and took a large gulp, most of the water slipping out of the side of his mouth and onto his shirt, before setting it on the small side table beside the couch. Dean watched as Castiel ran his fingers back through his hair and took a deep breath.

He chuckled quietly as Castiel wrinkled his nose and looked down, taking in his wrecked appearance. Castiel slipped off his suit jacket and started to unbutton the remaining buttons on his dress shirt, and Dean had to bite back a laugh as Castiel growled when they wouldn't cooperate. His eyes widened as Castiel fisted the sides of the shirt and ripped it open.

“That should not have been that hot,” Dean muttered under his breath and sank back down on the couch beside Castiel to watch him struggle with the rest of his clothes. Louder, Dean asked, “So is that how you lost half your buttons in the first place?”

Dean was amused at Castiel’s scowl as the Omega removed his ripped shirt from his arms and balled it up before tossing it on the floor, leaving the tie loosely hanging against his bare chest. Dean watched as Castiel looked down at it before reaching up, his deft fingers trying to work it the rest of the way off. Castiel huffed and lay back against the couch after a few minutes of trying and failing. He turned his head to the side and looked at Dean. “Could be? I don't exactly remember. Come to think about it, I don't exactly remember much about the last 24 hours. I’ve been rather intoxicated the entire time.”

Dean gave him a soft smile and shifted over on the seat. He felt Castiel stiffen slightly as their eyes met and Dean reached up and undid the knot on Castiel’s blue silk tie, his fingers brushing against the Omega’s neck and causing them both to shiver. Dean cleared his throat as he tugged one side of the tie and it slipped from Castiel’s body into his hands.

Even completely intoxicated, dried blood flaking from his stomach and chest, the Omega was attractive. Getting him fully clothed was pretty much the first thing on Dean’s mind, surprisingly. As much as he wanted to get Castiel unclothed, had since their night at the bar, he didn’t want to take advantage and he definitely wanted them both at top form.

Not that it would ever happen.

“Do, um, you have anything in here to change into?” Dean asked, staring down at the tie so he didn’t have to look at Castiel’s face any longer.

Castiel slowly nodded and pointed to his desk. “My gym bag is over there. I think I have something I can wear in it.”

Dean nodded and pushed himself off the couch and away from the half-naked Omega. He walked over to the desk and found the black and grey gym bag shoved underneath it. A pair of jeans and worn-out t-shirt were on top so he grabbed them and was hit with the warm scent of spice -- Nutmeg? Cloves? -- and fresh oranges. He had to force himself not to smell Castiel’s clothes and instead stood and turned to see Castiel had not only managed to stand up but had stripped the rest of his clothes off as well.

“Jesus Christ, Cas!” Dean tossed the clothing at him quickly, turning back around as he heard the clothes hit the floor in front of Castiel. “Could you warn a guy before you get butt ass naked?!”

Castiel laughed and Dean heard movement behind him, he assumed Castiel was picking up his clothes from the floor. “It’s not like you haven't seen a dick before… And what did I say about calling me Cas?”

“Yeah, well, when you can stand on your own without the room spinning? Then I’ll worry about you trying to shoot me.” Dean paused for another minute, listening to the rustling of clothing as Castiel struggled into the jeans and shirt, before he turned around. Every time he’d seen the Omega, Castiel had been dressed up, suit and tie, and Dean didn’t know which look he liked more.

Dean hadn’t realized he was staring until Castiel snorted and fell back onto the couch with a heavy ‘plop’. Dean felt his cheeks redden and he wondered what the hell was wrong with him to get embarrassed about being caught staring.

Castiel sighed and sat up, placing his elbows on his knees as he looked over at the Alpha. “I don't get it, why are you being so nice to me, Dean?” Castiel’s head lolled to the side once more and he blinked, his expression owlish, as he stared up at Dean. “You could ruin me if you wanted. You not only took my deal of twenty percent in the meeting yesterday but also offered up some of your own men.”

Dean nodded, sinking down into a crouch so Castiel’s head wasn’t tipped back to meet his eyes anymore. The Omega’s head fell forward, and his eyes rolled as a wave of dizziness hit him. He cleared his throat and it was actually kind of cute. Dean bit back the smirk at that thought. If Castiel threatened to shoot him for a simple nickname, he definitely would’ve gone for a gun at being referred to as cute.

“We both know you didn't have to do that,” Castiel continued, squinting once more before his eyes blew open wide. “And all after I let you down and wouldn’t actually go sleep with you!” Castiel’s head lolled to the side, and Dean saw him squint. He assumed it was to help Castiel’s eyes focus in his drunken state. Dean raised an eyebrow as a look of confusion crossed Castiel’s face. “And why are you here now?”

“I think that most of this conversation should probably not happen while you’re shit faced.” Dean gave him a small smile and reached for the bottle of opened water, pressing it back into Castiel’s hands and waiting for the man to start drinking again.

They were silent for a moment and Dean found himself saying, “So… how did an Omega become the Pakhan of the Bratva?” Well, Winchester, just throw that question right out there…

“Well,” Dean watched the look of contemplation cross Castiel’s face before he answered. “No one knows I'm an Omega, except for Gabriel. That's why I said you could ruin me. My own family doesn't know my true nature.” Dean’s eyes widened slightly. He hadn’t expected anyone to know Castiel’s secret. “Before I presented my father took me to our family Doctor because I had been feeling ill and he ran tests, they came back that I would not be presenting as Alpha, but as Omega.” He gave a rough snort and Dean could sense the underlying pain. “A male Omega born to a Pakhan is a disgrace, but I’d proven myself to my father and he loved me regardless.”

Castiel broke off, silent with a soft smile on his lips. Dean understood that look perfectly… knowing that somehow, through all the bullshit, he’d somehow made his father proud. It was worth everything. Dean nodded his understanding and Castiel blinked, tearing his eyes away from Dean to look down at his feet.

“He put me on suppressants and blockers,” Castiel continued, speaking to the ground, “that very day and I have been on them ever since. I was raised an Alpha, that's all I know, and what the rest of my family believe. And as for how I became Pakhan? I'm sure you have heard the story.”

Dean blew out slowly before swallowing hard as he looked up and met Castiel’s eyes. Dean was attracted to Castiel, that much he knew, but he hardly knew the Omega, owed the man nothing. And yet… “I won’t tell, you know. Your secret is safe with me.”

Castiel tapped his finger on his knee. “So orange blossoms, huh?” he asked barely above a whisper.

Dean gave him a small smile and nodded his head. “Yeah, orange blossoms.” He paused and then added, “Pretty delicious orange blossoms, actually.”

Castiel huffed a small laugh. “I never knew, you know. That's why I was so confused when you approached me in the bar, ‘John’.”

Dean shrugged, looking sheepish. “It’s not always easy to be Don Winchester, you know?”

“Mmhmm,” Castiel nodded slowly. “Oh, I know.”

Dean tracked Castiel’s clumsy movements as the Omega leaned over and he assumed Castiel’s head was still spinning from all the vodka he had consumed, God knows his would be.

Castiel buried his nose in Dean’s throat and groaned. “You smell amazing Dean, like pine.” Castiel inhaled deep again and Dean felt him smile against his throat. “Spicy pine. I like it way better than the spruce scent of my family. It's overpowering, even nauseating at times. Which is just great seeing as how I have to wear that fake Alpha spruce cologne every damn day.” Castiel licked a stripe up Dean's throat and whispered in his ear. “But you, you smell perfect.”

“Cas-” Dean stuttered, swallowing hard, “-tiel.” Dean let his hand settle against the center of Castiel’s chest, moving to push him back, but the Omega was quick, his hands coming up to grip tightly onto Dean’s arm and pull himself even closer. Dean opened his mouth to tell him to move back, to ask him to come closer, he wasn’t really sure, but Castiel silenced every thought Dean had the moment he swung his leg over Dean’s lap and straddled him.

Castiel started gently rocking in the Alpha’s lap. Dean's hands moved down to grip Castiel’s hips to stop the movement but instead he just held them and watched, stunned, as Castiel let his head fall back and a soft moan escaped his lips. Dean couldn’t move as Castiel leaned down and wrapped his arms around Dean’s neck and whispered in his ear as he continued the slow gyration of his hips, “Tell me Dean... how does it feel to fuck an Omega? How does it feel to knot them?”

“Cas…” Dean whispered, letting his eyes fall closed, his fingers tightening on Castiel’s hip bones as he fought with himself. He should push him off, knew he was strong enough to physically lift the Omega and put him back on his own side of the couch, but…

“Do they love that thick Alpha knot, do they love being tied and pumped full of come? Hmm… Come on Dean, tell me. I want to know what it's like. I've never-” Castiel trailed off and Dean felt himself hardening in his jeans. He could feel the heat from Castiel’s body, could smell his arousal, his slick permeating the air around them.

Dean groaned, letting his head fall forward to press against Castiel’s chest and he clung to him as if his life depended on it, before pushing to his feet. Castiel let out a surprised sound, nearly tumbling off Dean’s lap as Dean steadied him and took a step back.

“No, Cas… I-- We can’t do this. Not this way.”

As much as Dean wanted the Omega, and he really wanted him, he couldn’t take advantage. He wouldn’t let Castiel’s first time be a drunk fuck in his office, something he would most likely not remember tomorrow. He deserved better.

Castiel’s eyes turned stormy. “Really? You wanted me in the bar! I know you want me now. So tell me what's the problem?”

“Castiel… you’re drunk. You… you don’t know what you want, not really.” Dean shook his head slowly, wincing at the expression on the Omega’s face. “You’ve never been intimate with anyone before, Cas… You don’t want that with me, in your office…not while you’re shit-faced...”

“Do not presume to know what I want, Don Winchester,” Castiel growled and pointed to the door. “Our business is officially over, you need to leave and not just my office. You and your associates need to go back to Boston… Tonight.”

“Cas… I’m sorry, I am. But you’ll thank me for this later…” Dean ducked as Castiel reached for the opened water and chucked it across the room at Dean, water splashing against the wall and pooling on the carpet when the bottle came to rest on the floor. Giving Castiel one last sheepish look, Dean let himself out through the door, shutting it softly behind him.

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