25. Possession

Castiel floats aimlessly, staring at the ceiling as he drifts from one side of small-sea to the other. He already exhausted himself racing his shadow from wall to wall and he’s mentally tired too. It takes too much energy to focus on not thinking about next week, on not thinking about how little time he really has with Dean.

Instead, he spends his time in small-sea thinking about Dean. He has made his plans for what he wants to try next and he’s thought about everything they could do between now and whichever comes first – his freedom or the flying machine. His scales and skin have been tingling ever since and a good portion of his concentration is going to diverging from that current of thinking. It would be entirely unacceptable to have any kind of barrier – especially the glass-walls – between him and Dean while either one of them is aroused.

Dean has been hunched over the table with his phone and Meg’s note. Since putting Castiel in small-sea almost an hour after Lilith had left, Dean has been sending messages back and forth with Sam and Jess regarding the instructions Meg gave them. He had moved the table they ate their lunch on back in front of small-sea, but this time the long-edge is pressed up against the glass. The only break he’d taken this whole time was to go to the bathroom.

He has a small tool kit with miniature versions of the same tools in Bobby’s toolbox. Dean’s been using the mini-tools on the phone, taking it apart and putting it back together before kicking his chair back to the computer’s ledge. He uses a long, black cord to connect his phone to the computer and that is generally where Castiel stops paying attention until Dean’s frustration burns through the kin-connection and he returns to the table to take his phone apart again.

By the fourth time it happens, Castiel rolls backward and drops down to rest on the curl of his tail in front of Dean. (I thought you were going to wait until Sam and Jess experimented on Jess’s phone. Are you still able to contact Sam despite what you’ve done to yours?)

(I haven’t fucked anything up, if that’s what you’re asking. It still works every time I put it back together again.) Dean props his chin up on one of his hands and scratches his head with what looks like a miniature screwdriver. (Her instructions are clear enough, but there’s something I’m doing that isn’t getting it to work.)

(How will you know if it’s worked or not?)

He shrugs and pokes at the insides of the phone. (I’m supposed to get a message from Meg the moment I’ve done it right. Sam says they haven’t gotten Jess’s phone to work yet either.) Irritation curls around his words. (This is stupid. There is no way Meg is smarter than all three of us put together.)

Castiel presses his palms to the glass-wall and looks down at the phone too, squinting at all the shiny pieces that make up its insides. (Would it be so bad if she is?)

(It’s an ego thing, Cas.)

(I think you’re very smart, Dean.)

He grins up at Castiel, wide enough to make the little lines crinkle at the corners of his eyes. Appreciation thrums happily with a sharp burst of warmth through the kin-connection. (Thanks, Cas. How you doing in there? Bored yet?)

(A little, but don’t let that distract you. It’s important to figure out Meg’s instructions.) Castiel shrugs and pushes away from the wall to swim a few lazy laps.

(I could take a break and we could play some more games? I think I’ve got a pack of cards in my things.) He looks toward the drawers at the end of his bed, scratching absently at the end of the blue-white cast on his arm.

Castiel pauses, his adipose fins flaring to slow him to a stop. He would like to learn more of Dean’s games. All the games he used to play at the colony revolve around swimming or the tasks his kin would carry out during the day, or word games that Dean can’t play. But it’s been a few hours now since lunch and he’s not sure exactly what time Lilith is coming for supper. He doesn’t want to start learning a game only to have her show up and ruin their good time.

He smiles at Dean and shakes his head. (I’m fine. Could we play games after supper?)

(Yeah, of course.) The warmth curls along the edges of Castiel’s mind and Dean’s eyes are soft.

Something heavy thumps in Castiel’s chest. He’s not sure what it is, but it feels good. Yet at the same time, a fleeting worry twists in his stomach. The worry is one he’s never felt before and it’s a little confusing. For the first time that he can ever recall, Castiel feels self-conscious.

Uncertainties about his appearance start to flicker behind the walls in his mind. Are his scales dull or are they shiny? Is the webbing of his fans clean or does it have any tears? Are the spines crooked? Do his adipose fins ripple properly or are they too stiff? Is his glow bright enough? His teeth sharp enough? His claws aren’t even worth thinking about since Alistair cut them.

He’s never been concerned about any of these before and he doesn’t understand why all of that suddenly feels like it matters. And his paranoia over these matters only increases the longer Dean looks at him. Castiel finds himself wondering if he or Dean missed any spots during the cleaning earlier. He catches himself before he can start wishing that one of his brothers was here to double check after his cleaning maintenance for him before he would even allow Dean to see him.

(Cas?) Dean brushes concern against his mind and Castiel recoils in surprise. (You okay?)

Castiel shakes himself out and starts swimming again. (I’m fine. It’s nothing.) He hides his anxiety and hopes that he swims too quickly for Dean to be able to see any imperfections in his tail or his fans.

It’s on his third lap, while he’s absently chasing the few fish that he didn’t eat this morning, that he catches his reflection in the mirror still set up against one wall of small-sea. It’s been moved since it was first placed between the platform and the glass-wall. Instead of completely blocking the platform, it’s now been shoved closer to the back wall, revealing at least half of the platform. Castiel fidgets with his adipose fin and glances toward Dean, checking to make sure that he is sufficiently distracted by the phone before he drops into place before the mirror.

He twists, turns and folds himself while flaring and rustling his fans and fins, trying to see everything to double check. Everything looks fine, but Castiel feels like he’s missing something. His hair isn’t too long and if he had any scars, he would bear them with pride. But maybe his fans don’t spread wide enough?

(What are you doing?)

Castiel flinches and jerks away from the mirror, moving halfway across small-sea before he even looks at Dean or acknowledges the confusion and amusement swirling through the kin-connection. He fights the blush that wants to make his cheeks burn and he finds it hard to meet Dean’s eyes. (Nothing.)

(You were checking yourself out.)

(No, I wasn’t.) Castiel is hiding so much behind the walls in his mind that he hopes Dean can’t sense the falsehood in his words.

Dean raises one eyebrow, skepticism draws lines through the kin-connection and Castiel winces away from it. This is just another thing that he’s going to have to try not to think about. There are too many things that he keeps adding to that section of his mind and he’s quickly losing what few things he can think about.

Castiel ignores the look and the emotions Dean sends in his direction and he tries not to let his hands stray to the folds of his adipose fins. (Are you done with the phone?)

(Nice change of topic. I’m putting it back together to text Sam and see if he’s made any kind of breakthrough. I think I figured it out and I want to check with him before I do it.) Dean looks down again and Castiel draws closer, watching him put together the case.

He waits while Dean sends messages with Sam before he touches curiosity gently at Dean’s thoughts. (What time will Lilith be here for supper?)

Dean shrugs, his attention more on his phone than the time. He sends an image into the kin-connection of both the stick-hands on the clock pointing straight down at the number that Castiel now recognizes as a ‘six’. Castiel looks up at the clock, counting the spaces between the numbers. They have almost two hours until then.

Castiel frowns. He’s never been so bored in his life. There was always something to do at the colony. Hunting, gathering, carving out sleep-shelves or deeper hollows for storage while mining the metals used by the smiths, maintaining weapons,  helping the smiths, training. Even while on guard duty, he would at least be able to talk with the others and play word games, sing or reminisce. He has none of that here.

It’s not that he doesn’t like talking to Dean. No, it’s the exact opposite. He loves having the kin-connection with Dean. And there is a certain satisfaction to having the link with him knowing that they’ve been instructed to not have it at all. But he can’t have the kin-connection with Dean the way he had it with his nest-siblings and the rest of his kin back in the colony. It’s close, but it’s still not the same.

Castiel returns to chasing the fish. It’s simple enough to catch them and he lets them go right away. He waits a few minutes before starting the chase again. He’s only been playing the game for a little while when excitement bursts sharp and bright through the kin-connection. Dean is standing now and he’s grinning down at the phone in his hand.

(Got it! She was pretty specific about what needed to be done through the computer, but she was vague as hell about what had to be done to the actual equipment.) Dean’s delight is nearly tangible and he starts pacing.

He swims in line with Dean, from one side of small-sea to the other and watches as he taps at his phone. (Did you get the message from Meg?)

(Sure did. Basically it was her calling me a dumbass for taking so long and explaining that our communications are completely confidential.) Dean stops and smiles bright and wide at him. (Lilith can’t see our messages anymore.)

Castiel tilts his head, confused. (How?)

(Waiting on her to –) He looks down again. (Apparently her instructions were for connecting the phones to a different satellite. Lilith can only see the messages sent using her system and we’re using a different one now.)

It takes a few moments for him to understand and Castiel’s tail twitches, brushing over the floor of small-sea. (But won’t Lilith notice that you’re suddenly no longer contacting Sam? If we raise her suspicions, she might take actions against us.)

(Good point. I’ll bring that up with the others.) Dean goes to the bed and flops down on his back.

Castiel follows as best as he can in small-sea and stretches out on his stomach. He crosses his arms and rests his chin on them, watching while Dean sends his messages. (Has Meg said why she is being so helpful?)

Dean shakes his head, not taking his eyes from the phone. He doesn’t speak for many long minutes, focused entirely on his messages. For a moment, Castiel briefly hates the phone and the people through it that are stealing Dean’s attention from him. He knows he can’t have all of Dean’s attention all the time, and he knows that whatever Meg is doing is important. She wouldn’t be so secretive about it if it wasn’t. But he’s bored and Dean is barely acknowledging him at the moment while he sends messages to the others.

He waits through several messages. Each one sends ripples of different emotions through the kin-connection. Surprise, curiosity, confusion, doubt. Castiel picks through each one, separating them and trying to understand why Dean feels them. But when he reaches through their link to sift through Dean’s thoughts, he finds everything regarding the messages are hidden from him.

(You’re not going to tell me what’s being said, are you?) Castiel frowns, if only to keep from pouting.

(You know I have to.)

His fans flare unhappily and he curls his tail up, arching it until the end touches along his spine between his back-fans. (Because of Lilith?)

(Because of Lilith. She insists on the kin-connection with you every damn time she sees you. And if you slip even just a little, she might find out about our plans.) Dean sits up suddenly, and looks at Castiel sharply. (Shit, I shouldn’t even have told you about what Meg said about the phones.)

Castiel bares his teeth in a hiss. (I’m more skilled with the kin-connection than any of you. Lilith won’t be able to get into my thoughts and if she tries to shock an answer out of me, it will only sever the kin-connection. I can’t maintain it when the pain is that intense.)

Dean’s face darkens and he looks away. His thoughts become a storm of upset and when Castiel touches them lightly, he’s not surprised to find that Dean is remembering the only time he saw Lilith using the pendant. Hate siphons hotly into the kin-connection as Dean’s memories track back over the moment Lilith pressed the pendant.

(You screamed.) Dean turns away and throws the phone onto the pillows. (Not just out loud, but like this. It hurt. I felt the pain down my back and through my head like how I can sometimes still feel what it was like to be stabbed. And then you snapped out of my head so fast – fuck, I don’t even know how to really describe it. It was like you were ripped away and I couldn’t stop it.)

His hands are shaking and concern curls in Castiel’s chest. (I hated it, Cas. It was like seeing Tony Miller beating up on Sammy when he was in fifth grade. Only it… It was worse. I wasn’t just angry, I was fucking terrified. And I damn near hit Lilith. I’ve never hit a woman on purpose and I wanted to hurt her. So badly that it scared me.)

While Dean continues, Castiel pushes up from the floor. He swims slowly backward while rising toward the surface. (I was scared for you, and I scared myself and it’s – I don’t like feeling like that. And I hate seeing you hurt and I just – Don’t do anything that’ll make her do it again. Please.)

(Dean.) Castiel’s back bumps the far wall and he rolls his tail once, breaking the surface.

He looks up, confusion flickering briefly before giving way to understanding. Castiel’s gills are sealed and the water is cleared from his lungs by the time Dean reaches the platform. His tail slaps the glass a few times, giving him the push he needs to lift out of the water. Once he’s over the wall, Castiel doesn’t wait for Dean to step down or even until he’s holding Castiel comfortably. He cradles Dean’s face in his hands and presses kiss after kiss to his lips.

The memories of Dean’s emotions still taint the kin-connection and Castiel hates them. He doesn’t want Dean to feel like that and he can’t decide if it’s him or Lilith to blame. But he refuses to be the one to let Dean feel like that again. As much as he hates doing it, Castiel will listen to Lilith. He’ll do what he must to make sure Dean never has to see it a second time.

Dean leans forward, pressing Castiel’s back against the glass and pinning his fans down. He can feel the edge of the mirror against the scales below the swell of his tail. His head knocks against the glass-wall and he narrowly misses biting Dean’s tongue. He twines his arms around Dean’s shoulders as he does his tail around his hips. Dean’s hands slip under his tail, holding him up.

(I won’t. I promise, it won’t happen again as long as I can help it.) He nips lightly at Dean’s bottom lip, licking over it to soothe the sting. His chest hurts and he’s not sure if it’s how hard his heart is pounding or because of everything he’s feeling.

Castiel wraps the kin-connection in the warmth that hasn’t stopped seething through his veins. The warmth is more than just the heat of arousal he feels when Dean touches him. It actually burns hotter through him, an incandescence brighter than any glow. It’s one of the best things Castiel has ever felt.

He loses track of how long they simply stand on the platform, pressed against small-sea. Time is meaningless when the heat of Dean’s skin can be felt through his clothing where Castiel’s tail curls around his waist and is wrapped around one leg, where their chests touch and his arms rest. Dean’s fingers are burning lines against his scales and everything about his touch is addicting. Castiel wants it for as long as he is allowed to have it.

The kisses get lost, one into the other. At some point they stop all together and they are simply resting their foreheads together. The turmoil in Dean’s mind is long gone by the time he carries Castiel to the bed. He folds Dean against his chest, pressing his nose into his hair. His fingers play over Dean’s back in gentle, comforting sweeps and he hums soft songs into what little air is between them.

Dean huffs quietly, a gust of warm air over Castiel’s collarbone. “Shit, I’m pathetic.”

He finds Dean’s side with his hand and drags a light, tickling touch over it. “No.”

(Yeah, I totally am. You’re the one who was tortured and everything, but you’re giving me comfort.) Dean shakes his head and he swats his hand away. (It should be the other way around.) But his arms still resettle around Castiel’s back and he presses closer.

Castiel purrs at the sweep of fingers over his lower back. (This is a comfort to me, Dean. The kin-connection, your heat, your touch, this –) He intensifies the warmth in the link to make his point. (All of it comforts me more than words possibly could. You’re helping simply by being you.)

Dean huffs again, but Castiel can feel a smile against his skin, a precursor to a series of small kisses that scatter the small area of his chest Dean can reach without actually moving. The only time Dean really does move is to get his phone when it continues to beep insistently somewhere behind Castiel’s head. Castiel frowns at the little device when Dean holds it between them to send more messages.

(I’m just telling them I’ll be M.I.A. from the conversation for awhile.) He puts the phone back on the pillows behind Castiel. (We’ve got little more than a half hour before Lilith gets here.)

He growls and twists his fingers in the back of Dean’s shirt. (I don’t want to move.)

(We don’t have to. At least, not until she gets here. She’ll probably want me to put the damn chains back on you again.)

(I hate them. They’re cold and heavy.) Castiel tries to wiggle closer. He can almost feel the weight of them on his skin again and he hates it.

Dean tilts his head and presses a kiss to the underside of his jaw. (You know why she does it, don’t you?)

(To dress me up.)

(That, and there’s the symbolic meaning too. Chains are a sign of captivity. She’s showing just how much ownership she has over you.) His thoughts sour and his fingers dig in. (It’s a shit move that she probably knew you wouldn’t understand.)

Castiel hisses, his fans flaring only for Dean to pull them back down. Dean presses calm into Castiel’s mind, buoyed on that addicting warmth neither of them gives name to. He knows what it is, and whether or not Dean knows what name to give it is Dean’s business. Dean knows the names for emotions that Castiel has never experienced before, so he must know the name for this one.

Dean doesn’t say anymore and neither does Castiel. He slides down until he can tuck his head under Dean’s chin. Castiel pushes his hands under Dean’s shirt, slipping them up against his back. Laughter gets muffled into his hair and Dean squirms against him. (Dude, your hands are cold!)

He hums and rubs his cheek against Dean’s shirt. Everything is Dean’s warmth and scent and it’s much too soon when Dean pulls away. Castiel resigns himself to another half hour of uncomfortable silence and forcing himself to eat when he doesn’t really feel like it. If he’s hungry, he’d rather catch his own meal than have it provided for him on a plate.

The chains are still heavy and cold when Dean puts them on him again, but Castiel doesn’t really notice them this time. Dean presses hot kisses across his stomach, from hip to hip, before he clips the chain together around his waist. He does the same to Castiel’s wrists, first placing one on top and another over the thin skin below his palm.

(You are being unusually tender.) He notes absently as Dean attaches the last of the chains.

(Guess there are still parts of me you don’t know yet, huh?) Dean looks up at him like he did the day Castiel first sang the bonding-song. His eyes are warm and crinkle at the edges and that secret smile plays over his lips again.

Castiel traces the point of his finger over the freckles dotting Dean’s cheekbones. (Show me everything. I want to know all the parts of you.) He draws Dean up until he can press soft, needy kisses to his mouth. (I want to remember you as you truly are. I want to remember all of you.)

Dean slides into his lap, knees pinching Castiel’s adipose fins to the bed. His hands settle heavy and warm over Castiel’s sides. He doesn’t answer with words. There is only warmth and understanding and the faintest curls of regret. Very little else flows between them and the gentle kisses. Dean doesn’t take it any further and neither does Castiel. There’s no need to.

The kin-connection cuts off the moment Dean goes still against him. It happens so suddenly that it leaves Castiel dazed and floundering and he immediately reaches for Dean again, groping at his mind to get that warmth back. He needs to feel it as much as he needs his touch. Dean shakes him off and sits back, ignoring Castiel’s displeased whine.

“Guess I forgot to lock the door when I came back from the washroom.” The lines of Dean’s body are tense and he turns away from Castiel to look at the door. “The least you could do is knock.”

Castiel turns too and his fans flare in surprise. He hadn’t heard the door open and he certainly didn’t hear Lilith come in. As a warrior he should pay better attention to his surroundings and he’s ashamed to have let so much of his guard drop. It’s a reminder of just how dangerous Dean really is. He’s distracting and addicting and Castiel is very nearly completely lost to him.

Lilith has her hands on her hips and her expression is no happier than Castiel’s. “If you don’t want to be walked in on, you shouldn’t be doing it in the first place.”

“You gave us permission to do what we want, didn’t you?” Dean stands up and Castiel lets him go reluctantly. “Since we can’t talk the normal way, you’ve really only left us with talking with our bodies.”

She sighs and rolls her eyes. “I don’t want to hear about it. Do what you want as long as I don’t have to see it.” Lilith gestures toward the table. “Pull that out. And we’ll need the extra chair. Alistair will be eating with us tonight.”

Castiel’s fans flare and his adipose fins ripple at Alistair’s name. He recognized enough of those words to know the meaning and it makes his stomach sour. Having Alistair around while he eats is just as bad as having Lilith present. The only way it would be worse is if he didn’t have Dean with him.

The guards bring in the extra chair and the ottoman again the moment Dean has the table pulled out. This time there are two silver shells that the guards place on the ledge and Castiel wonders if they’ll have as many ‘courses’ tonight as they did yesterday. Lilith still hasn’t asked for the kin-connection by the time they’re all seated at the table, Alistair included.

Alistair sits across from Castiel. There are four bowls of soup under the first silver-shell and Lilith has Dean serve the soup before he sits down opposite from her. For Castiel it is the same chicken soup that he ate yesterday. The others have a red soup with many little bits of things in it. Castiel tightens his tail around Dean’s ankle slightly and gestures for his attention. When he looks up, Castiel points at their bowls.

“Minestrone.” Dean explains, pushing his bowl close enough for Castiel to dip his spoon into it. He stops Castiel’s hand and points at all the little things on his spoon. “Pasta. Vegetables.”

Pasta, like the spaghetti. But these look different. They look like little shells. And Castiel knows what vegetables are too. He eyes the little square pieces of orange. “Carrots?”

“Yup.” Dean pulls his bowl back before Castiel can return the spoonful to it, leaving him with no other option but to eat it. “But they’re different. Better. Try it.”

Castiel ignores how Lilith and Alistair are watching him as he puts the spoon in his mouth. The flavor of the minestrone is very different from the chicken soup. It’s surprising and Castiel doesn’t know the right words to describe the flavor and how it stings his tongue. He doesn’t even taste the carrots or all the other different things. They all fall apart the same way under his teeth. It takes several mouthfuls of his chicken soup to make the taste go away and Dean snickers the whole time.

Lilith puts her spoon down slowly. “How did he know what you were talking about?”

“Short, familiar words.” Dean shrugs, not looking up from his bowl. “Cas isn’t stupid and he’s got a damn good memory. He’ll remember pretty much anything you tell him.”

When they’re done the soups, Dean takes all the bowls and spoons and puts them back under the silver shell on the ledge. Lilith says something to Dean, more words Castiel doesn’t understand, and instead of getting what is under the second shell, Dean sits back down in his chair. There’s silence for a few moments before Dean leans his elbows on the table and he seems almost bored as he looks between Lilith and Alistair.

“So are you two a thing or something?”

Alistair looks surprised for a moment before he starts laughing. It’s loud and annoying and it makes Castiel wince. Even Lilith laughs, covering her mouth as she giggles. Dean doesn’t even look surprised and Castiel is just confused. He has no idea what they’re talking about.

“Alistair is merely a business partner. He helps me with all my pets.” Lilith giggles through her words and it’s another few moments before she and Alistair stop completely. Once done, she taps the table in front of Castiel. “Kin-connection.”

He places the walls between them and touches her mind without hesitation. The quicker he does what she asks, the less likely she is to use the pendant and it’s not just the pain that Castiel is scared of anymore.

(I want you to sing something nice before we eat our dinner.)

Castiel curls his tail tightly around Dean’s leg again, the very end of it dipping into the opening of his boot. The nicest songs he knows are the ones sung for the bonding ceremony and he doesn’t want to sing any of those right now and especially not in front of Lilith. It will only hurt to sing them to Dean knowing he can never actually have him as a bond-mate.

But he promised to Dean that he would sing his favourite songs. The nicest of his favourites is the lullaby his parents used to sing when he was a hatching. It’s not the same one that he once sang softly to Dean what feels like seasons ago. Castiel glances at Dean once before he starts singing. It’s a nonsense, calming song with no real meaning behind it, but Dean’s eyes still soften and Castiel can feel the press of his other leg against the side of his tail.

When his song ends, Lilith gestures for Dean to serve the rest of the food. Castiel has another plate of fish decorated with little shredded pieces of dried kelp. When he looks at Dean’s plate of food, Dean points at each item and names it as chicken, mashed potatoes, and more vegetables. He pushes his plate closer and Castiel tries a little of each. They all taste good and his fish is almost bland in comparison.

The dinner is over quickly and only Alistair and Lilith really talk. Lilith doesn’t translate it and Dean doesn’t seem to have any reaction to their words so it can’t mean too much. As Dean cleans up their plates and gives the two silver-shells to the guards outside, Lilith has him sing another song. It’s not exactly one of his favourites, but he sings a song of searching – the same one he sang so long ago when Balthazar had gone to the light-beds alone.

Castiel is relieved when Dean finally moves him to the bed so that the ottoman and Lilith’s chair to be taken away. He sits on the curl of his tail and watches Dean push the table back into place near the end of Sam and Jess’s bed. Alistair leaves before Dean is done cleaning up. Lilith leans against the corner of small-sea, watching Dean too.

(Alistair will be back with me for lunch tomorrow.) She says it almost absently and Castiel nearly misses it. (He wants to do some reflex tests or something. I don’t know or care. He’ll do them after we eat.)

His fans flare sharply and that gets Dean’s attention. He looks toward them, his brow furrowed. Castiel forces his fans to lay flat again before he addresses Lilith. (Do the tests involve knives or needles?)

She shrugs. (Not that I’m aware of. He knows he’s not allowed to damage you unless I give him permission to do so as punishment. But you and Dean have been behaving so well these last few days that I don’t think that will be necessary. And if you’re good all day tomorrow too, you can go with Dean to the showers the next day.) She looks at Castiel pointedly and her smile is both gentle and cold. (You know what it means to behave, don’t you?)

Castiel fights the urge to hiss at her and he nods. (No kin-connection with Dean and listen to your rules.)

Her smile grows and she walks over to pat Castiel on the head. “Good boy! Now do you remember what to do when I’m leaving?”

The food in his stomach turns and Castiel suppresses a shudder. He clenches his hands into fists on his lap before curling his tail in tighter and rising higher. Lilith leans down the rest of the way, her hand on the pendant – and for good reason. If she didn’t have that, Castiel would sink his teeth into the closest part of her and tear her apart.

Her lips are tacky against his and he pulls away quickly, dropping to the bed to rest on his elbows. Lilith pats him on the head again and she tilts his chin up to touch the collar. “You’ve learned so well. I’m very proud of you, Castiel. And I’ve had Eve design you another collar. I’ll give you that at lunch tomorrow. You may break the kin-connection now.”

He dips his head and severs the link. Dean stops Lilith at the door again and says several words, the most repeated one being ‘spray-bottle’. Lilith says something about the guards before she leaves and Dean locks the door behind her. For several moments, he listens with his ear to the door before he turns to Castiel and nods.

Castiel sits up again and reaches for Dean with body and mind. The rush of warmth through the kin-connection soothes the edges of his nerves left frayed by having both Alistair and Lilith here. Dean crosses quickly to the bed and Castiel grips the sleeve of his outer-shirt when Dean cups his face.  He rubs his thumbs over Castiel’s lips and they come away red.

(Fucking left her stupid lipstick on you.) Dean’s rubs at Castiel’s lips again before he leans in. Though the warmth is still in the kin-connection, there’s something darker burning along the edges. He drags Castiel up by his arm and his fingers dig in with the rough press of the kiss. (And she’s got a new fucking collar.)

He makes a noise of surprise when Dean  pulls away sharply and turns him with a hard pull at one of his shoulders. (Turn around and spread your fins.)

(Dean?) He presses confusion into the dark around Dean’s mind.

“You wanted to know all of me, Cas. This is all of me.” Dean pulls Castiel’s hips up with an arm around his waist and pushes his shoulders down with a hand between his shoulder blades. He ends up with his cheek pressed against the sheets and Castiel twists his fingers in the bedding. His chest feels tight and tingles are running along his ribs. “I told you that I’m just as bad as Lilith. I fucking hate you letting her touch you, having to watch you fucking kiss her – and I’m not allowed to do a damn thing about it.”

Castiel’s adipose fins ripple violently at the possession searing through the kin-connection. Dean drags his teeth along his spine and Castiel squirms, biting his bottom lip to keep from making noise. Heat is pooling through him and his tail won’t hold still, the end whipping across the bedding. He spreads his back-fans wide like Dean asked, like his fingers demand with quick tugs.

Dean presses his mouth to the space in the small of his back between Castiel’s back-fans. His tongue traces the seam of webbing and skin along the inside edge of one before he noses as close as he can get. The first sharp suck makes Castiel cry out – in surprise, in pleasure, he’s not really sure which one but by the time Dean is done with that one spot, Castiel can barely breathe.

He gasps and whines and makes a number of noises he would be embarrassed about if he wasn’t distracting by the other bruise Dean is sucking into the adjacent spot next to his other back-fan. Castiel nearly collapses onto his stomach when Dean moves his arm and he struggles to stay in the same position as long as Dean’s lips and tongue are still on his back.

“I don’t want to own you like she does. But you’re mine, Cas. More than you’ll ever be hers. You are mine.” Dean growls against his back, fumbling blindly to undo the chain around Castiel’s waist.

His fingers keep brushing against Castiel’s sheath and he twitches with every touch. He pulls Castiel’s wrists back one at a time to remove the chains around them. Once the chain is removed, Dean spends several moments licking and sucking his fingers and the webbing between them and Castiel whines with every touch of his tongue.

Guided by Dean’s hands, Castiel folds his back-fans down again. He lets himself be pulled back against Dean’s chest and Dean’s fingers spread hot and wide across his collarbone, pressing hard over the collar.

(I’m the only one who gets to touch you like this, the only one who gets to see you – hear you – like this.) Dean mouths at the space behind his side-fan and his fingers find all the places on Castiel’s chest and sides that make his spine curve and press into his hands. (This is the side of me I’ve hidden from you since day one, Cas. Do you know how much I hate that you’re going to leave and you might find someone back home who’ll make you forget all about me?)

Castiel hisses at a particularly hard pinch to both his nipples. There’s no one who could make him forget this. Nothing could make him forget the warmth and the heat and want, or the feelings that burn through the kin-connection to flow like magma through his veins.

Dean is pressed tight against his back and he’s kneeling over the stretch of Castiel’s tail that isn’t folded under him. His hands leave for only a moment, but it’s nearly long enough for Castiel to fall forward, unsupported. The weight around his neck leaves suddenly and there’s a crash to his right. When Dean’s hands return, they press up over his clavicle again and his mouth moves in a smooth line down the back of Castiel’s neck. It takes him longer than it should to realize that Dean removed the collar and the weight of the gesture steals what little breath he has left.

He can feel the solid line of Dean’s arousal rubbing over his scales through his pants against the swell of his tail below the small of his back. Dean’s hips rolls against him in quick, smooth thrusts and Castiel isn’t even sure how long he’s been doing that.

(I want to keep you, Cas, but I don’t want to own you – not like she does. Nothing like that. I know right from wrong and I can control myself. But this –) Dean presses hard against his sheath, his palm moving in long swipes from base to head where he drags his fingers along the widening slit before repeating the motion again. (– This isn’t something anyone else gets to have, not while you’re here, not while you’re with me.)

(Dean –) Castiel scrabbles at his legs.

Dean moves his hands to cover Castiel’s, holding them over his knees. Castiel can feel the press of his forehead against the back of his neck. “I’m selfish and I don’t like sharing. I’ve had to share everything with Sam my whole life, but he has Jess now and I – I told you. You’re different. You’re in my head and it’s fucking with everything I know and – Christ, just tell me how bad I’ve fucked things up showing you want I’m really like.”

A quick twist of his tail and flare of his fans pushes Dean away and Castiel can feel the surprise, the disappointment and the self-hatred before the walls go up around Dean’s mind. He reaches back and grabs Dean’s arm, dragging him down until Castiel has him pinned beneath him. Confusion pushes around the walls between them and Castiel ignores it. He starts pulling at Dean’s shirts, getting them off as quickly as he can.

(Cas, what are you –)

Castiel ignores everything until he has Dean’s shirts on the floor. He picks at the clear hard edges of the bandage on Dean’s shoulder until he can peel it off and throw it away too. His bite mark is scabbed over and swollen around the edges and it sends a rush of pride and possession through his chest that he willingly shares with the kin-connection. He meets Deans eyes and closes his fingers over the mark, squeezing until Dean winces.

(Mine.) Castiel leans down until his lips brush Dean’s with every breath. (You and I are not so different, Dean. I want more than just my memories of you to show everyone – at home or at Lilith’s – that I was once yours.) He forces as much of the warmth that fills him against the walls around Dean’s mind. (Lilith has no claim on me.)

Dean’s fingers sink into his hair and he surges up into a kiss that is little more than teeth and tongue. The walls drop the moment Castiel drags his teeth over Dean’s bottom lip. His gut aches with the heat of his erection still sheathed under his scales. Castiel presses their hips together, rolling his body like he would in the waves. He groans as Dean’s legs spread beneath him and he slides into the valley of his thighs.

It’s not long before Castiel’s erection is unsheathed and he hisses at the first rub of it against Dean’s jeans. They struggle to remove them without stopping the kisses, but Castiel still has to pull away with a growl so Dean can get the pants down his hips and off his legs.

(Is this normal?) Castiel takes the brief moment of clarity before he has Dean under his hands again to ask one of the few questions he has. He loathes the moment he has to lean away to get the condoms while Dean deals with his pants. (To be aroused so many times in one day?)

(This better be the last stupid question you ask during this.) Dean takes the condoms and tears open the packages. (We might not do as much tomorrow, but this is completely normal. Hell, I’d be insulted if you didn’t get turned on every time I touched you to purposefully get you worked up.)

Castiel whines when Dean sits up and rolls the condom over his penis, his fingers dragging over him in long strokes. (Am I allowed another question?)

(You’re allowed as many as you want.)

(But you said –)

(Question, Cas.)

He takes a deep breath to steady himself as Dean folds over to press kisses to his chest. (What are we going to do?)

Dean laughs against his skin and heat pours into the kin-connection, nearly sending Castiel spiraling into the abyss Dean’s touch creates in his mind. (You are going to get the lube. I am going to blow you while you prep me. And when you’re done and I’m ready, you are going to fuck me into the bed.)

Castiel’s fans snap wide at the images Dean feeds into the kin-connection. His mouth goes dry and his adipose fins ripple so violently it almost hurts. He goes still as suddenly as the reactions had occurred and Dean looks up at him, concern brushing along the edges of their link.

(Only if you’re ready, Cas. We don’t have to if you don’t want to.)

He’s trying to wrap his mind around the meaning of Dean’s images. Castiel could – he could be inside Dean. He could feel the heat inside him and have Dean like Balthazar and Gabriel always told him about the females they were with. His breath comes in short gasps and his lungs, his insides, his skin, everything burns with the heat and the warmth and the want.  He wants this – wants Dean like this.

Castiel fumbles blindly behind him for the top drawer. He knows he left it open when he got the condoms and it’s just a matter of finding the bottle of slippery jelly without looking. Dean grins at him, bright and pleased. It sends bolts of steady-blue’s lightening down his spine and Castiel has no idea how he manages to find the bottle but the moment he has it in his hand, Dean is pushing him to lay flat.

Dean straddles Castiel’s waist, but he’s facing the wrong way. His back is open to Castiel’s hands and as nice as that is, being able to see all the muscles he’s memorized with touch play under his skin, Castiel wants more. Dean quietly guides him with images and gentle instructions on what to do. Castiel remembers what to do with his fingers, but the angle is different and Dean is very distracting with his lips and tongue and the way he moves his mouth over Castiel’s penis.

At least he can give Dean pleasure with the different-spot inside him and the place behind his balls that Castiel can press and rub at. Dean keeps rocking over him, his erection lightly pressing against Castiel’s chest and every little groan Dean makes vibrates through his throat and along Castiel’s penis. The end of Castiel’s tail won’t stop twitching, drawing sharp arcs across the bedding almost in time to the up-down of Dean’s head.

By the time Castiel has four fingers in Dean, he’s short of breath and lava is searing under his scales. If they don’t proceed soon, he might orgasm before then – especially if Dean insists on rubbing a thumb against the opening of his sheath while his tongue traces over Castiel’s glow pattern. Dean answers the urgency Castiel pushes into the kin-connection by pressing his tongue to the sensitive opening under the curve of his penis.

His laughter is nothing more than hot gusts of air over the exposed muscles where Castiel’s penis connects to his sheath. Castiel twitches and withdraws his fingers as gently as he can so as not to him. (Dean, please – I can’t –)

(Yeah, yeah – I think I’m ready. You’re just – fuck, Cas, you’re pretty thick at the base and more prep was needed – just in case you –) Dean sits back slowly, looking over his shoulder at Castiel. (You want me in any specific way?)

Castiel swallows thickly. He runs his hands over Dean’s back, to his waist – absently nothing that it’s thicker than his own – and over his hips. (Whichever is easiest for you.)

Dean leans forward again, grabbing a few of the pillows. He turns around to straddle Castiel’s lab properly and tucks the pillows under Castiel’s head and shoulders. For a moment he looks down at Castiel’s lap before grinning up at him agin. He holds their penises together like he did this morning and Castiel bites his lip as Dean rocks his hips, pushing the line of heat along his erection.

His head tilts back into the pillows, baring his throat for a barrage of Dean’s kisses. Dean continues thrusting against Castiel and his tongue draws wet designs along his collarbone. (We’re going to have to go slow, okay? Let me get comfortable and then you can start moving.)

Castiel whines low in his throat and his fingers dig into Dean’s shoulders. Dean slides forward slowly until he’s sitting in front of Castiel’s penis. He presses quick kisses up Castiel’s throat and under his jaw. When he reaches his lips, Dean licks in slow and smooth. The scent of Dean and his arousal is thick in the air, his taste heavy on Castiel’s tongue and his heat pressed against him. The kin-connection is alive with warmth and desire and everything that Castiel has only ever had from Dean.

A storm is raging under his scales and all it takes for it to break is a tight press against the head of his penis. Castiel cries out in surprise, his back bowing from the bed in one sharp movement. The buzzing fades slowly and Castiel stares blindly at the ceiling while he pants – gasping for a breath he can never seem to catch.

Mortification sets in the moment he can think properly, twisting sharp and painful in his stomach. Castiel sits up quickly, narrowly missing smacking his forehead into Dean’s.

(Whoa, cowboy, calm down.) Dean grins and pushes back him back down. (You alright there, Cas?)

He looks down and glares at his lap. Dean has already removed the condom and Castiel watches as he penis slides back into the sheath slowly. His cheeks feel hot and embarrassment burns where arousal did only a few minutes ago. (I – I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to – It just –)

(Hey, Cas, hey.) Dean leans in to kiss him softly. (It’s okay. It happens. I’m probably to blame anyway. I didn’t really hold back while blowing you, so, my bad.)

Castiel buries his face in the curve of Dean’s neck, only a few finger-widths from his bite mark. He squeezes his arms around his chest and folds his tail up over Dean’s back. What can he do for Dean now? He could use his mouth again, but it had taken so long before and it had made his jaw hurt. He could always use his hands, or let Dean thrust against him like before, like he is now – rocking his erection against Castiel’s stomach.

The end of his tail brushes his knuckles and another idea occurs to him. Castiel smiles against the side of Dean’s throat and pulls him down as he lays back again. He purrs and licks wetly over Dean’s skin, finding by memory the marks he’s left. Dean starts making little breathy noises against Castiel’s side-fan.

(Please let me make up for it.) Castiel draws lines up and down Dean’s spine with the end of his tail as he uses his hands to guide Dean’s hips up.

Dean only has a few moments to pulse confusion into the kin-connection before a strangled noise sounds in the back of his throat. Castiel almost grins against the mark in the hard center of his throat. He repeats the drag of the end of his tail over the puckered opening he’d spent too long preparing to leave unattended now. Dean makes the noise again and his thighs tremble under Castiel’s hands as he presses in – slowly, steadily.

As soon as he realizes what Castiel is doing, Dean starts guiding him with the instructions again. He waits for Dean’s okay to press forward, and stops when he tells him to. Soon Dean is rocking his hips back against the end of Castiel’s tail. Castiel works a hand between them and Dean sends waves of appreciation into the kin-connection as he thrusts into the tunnel of his fingers. Castiel kisses Dean through it all, curling the end of his tail when and where Dean tells him to. Dean makes so many interesting noises and Castiel wishes he was aroused now if only to be feeling this too.

Dean takes longer to orgasm than he did this morning and he sags against Castiel the moment he’s done. Castiel removes his tail as gently as he did his fingers and he curls it around Dean’s leg as he stretches them out across the bed. Dean is far heavier than he expected him to be. The thought makes Dean grunt and he flicks at Castiel through the kin-connection before sliding to one side.

Pride fills Castiel’s chest, easing his embarrassment. Despite not being able to give Dean what he wanted, there is no disappointment in Dean’s mind. There is nothing but the warmth and pleased satisfaction. He revels in the feeling as he sits up. He’s not sure how to remove the condom from Dean and he fumbles with it a few times before Dean laughs and pushes his hands away. Castiel watches closely to see how Dean does it so he can do it next time. Because there will be a next time and he will have better control of himself then.

(You’re full of surprises, Cas. I’ll give you that.) Dean grins and drapes one of his arms over his eyes. (Gimme a few minutes to bask in the afterglow and then I’ll clean up. You wanna go back in the tank or y’want I should just dump water on you again?)

Castiel rests his chin on Dean’s chest. (You said we could play cards after dinner. What are cards?)

Dean laughs and gestures above his head. (Top drawer.)

He leaves the heat of Dean’s side only for the time it takes him to locate the thin box from the images Dean provides in the kin-connection. (Is it normal to use a bed upside down?)

(Is it normal to ask so many questions after sex?) Dean laughs again and takes the box Castiel gives him. They both settle on their stomachs, facing the drawers. (Why aren’t you as wiped as I am? Pretty sure you came just as hard as I did.)

(Embarrassment, maybe? It snapped me back to reality fairly quickly. I’ll do better next time.)

Dean jostles their shoulders together. (We’ll keep practicing at it until you get it right, don’t you worry about that. Now look at these, we’ve got fifty-two cards in a deck. A deck consists of four sui–)

(Weren’t you going to clean up?)

His head droops between his shoulders, his forehead almost touching the bed. (I’ll clean up once I’m done explaining this and the game we’re going to play. While I’m cleaning and soaking you up, you’re going to be memorizing the rules for the game, okay?)

(Does the game have a name?)

(It’s sure as hell not ‘Twenty Questions’.) Dean chuckles and Castiel tilts his head, not understanding the joke. (It’s called ‘Go Fish’, Cas. We’re going to play ‘Go Fish’.)