Chapter Text
They’re both home when it happens, in Castiel’s tiny apartment. It’s a winter evening, large snowflakes falling from the sky. It’s been only four days since Dean’s moved in, and Castiel can barely hold back his giddiness when he opens his eyes and Dean is there , in his bed, in his kitchen, on his couch.
‘Cas! Come see this!’ Dean calls out when the Breaking News banner appears on screen. Castiel hears the reporter in the kitchen.
‘-a groundbreaking change in omega laws! We’ve just managed to get the official confirmation and yes, it’s really happening, folks! As of today, mated omegas are able to cancel the mating, and all unclaimed omegas are allowed to work and study without an alpha’s permission.’
Castiel rounds the corner to join Dean by the couch, and stares at the TV.
‘We’re here with Moira Adams, the owner of one of the first Omega Houses,’ the reporter shoves the microphone in some woman’s face, and she takes it from him.
‘Yes, I’m Moira Adams from Shelter From The Storm,’ the woman says with a smile.
‘That’s a Dylan song,’ Dean mentions distractedly, eyes glued to the screen.
‘We’re happy to announce that our brand new chain of Omega Houses is ready to welcome omegas,’ Moira continues. ‘All unclaimed omegas can be housed here for up to 36 months, free of charge. The only requirement is that they must enroll in university or get a job before the trial period of 3 months is over.’
‘Yes, but Moira, tell me, is it correct that mated omegas can be housed as well?’ the reporter asks.
‘That’s true, we do have an option for mated omegas who aren’t satisfied with their relationship,’ Moira confirms. Castiel glances at Dean. ‘For the duration of mating cancellation, which can take up to a month, the omegas are welcome to stay at our House. We have a staff that helps out with their needs and the cancellation process.’
‘Thank you, Moira, that sounds incredible,’ the reporter takes back the mic, and turns to the camera. ‘This is a historical moment right here in Toledo, Ohio, where the courts have just ruled in favor of omega emancipation. The new laws concern all omegas in all states of America. And yes, it is effective immediately. Let’s take a closer look at the Omega Houses belonging to Mrs. Adams.’
The apartment photos start showing on screen; they’re modern and compact, nothing too large, but - well, Castiel can honestly tell they’re more enticing than his own. The omegas need to share, but only two per apartment, which doesn’t sound like too much, and-
‘Dean,’ Castiel says. ‘This is…’
‘Yeah,’ Dean exhales. He sounds shocked, and that’s how Castiel feels. ‘I’m - I guess that kinda makes me, uh. Free.’
‘Yes,’ Castiel confirms, and sags onto the couch next to him, and grabs his hand. ‘Dean, this would have freed you from Gordon. You could’ve gone to the Omega House and still attend university, and…’
‘No, but I’m glad you got to me first,’ Dean says, squeezing Castiel’s hand and turning to look at him. ‘Seriously, Cas. I don’t think it would’ve been that easy to leave Gordon, anyway. I’m sure there's a bunch of alphas locking their omegas in their basements this very moment.’
Castiel frowns. That’s plausible, he supposes. The news has left him reeling, he didn’t even consider the impact it would have on… everything. All the toxic alpha omega marriages, like Dean and Gordon’s, the alphas’ reactions… there might be riots, protests… and a new wave of omega students attending the university, soon. New omega work positions…
Somehow, though, all he can really focus on is Dean. Dean, whom he considered free anyway, free under his care. Buying Dean from Gordon never felt like transferring the ownership, but rather like freeing Dean from being dependable on alphas; to Castiel, at least. And now -
There’s a surge of doubt and worry in Castiel, all of a sudden. Because as great and unbelievable this news is, could that mean that Dean might want to leave now? Live independently? But that would mean he only ever agreed to be Castiel’s mate out of necessity, nothing more, and it never felt like it was just a formality, it felt like…
Well, it felt like a relationship.
Luckily, before Castiel can come up with a way to ask if Dean wants to stay without hurting his feelings, Dean smiles at him.
‘Glad that I don’t gotta look for an Omega House,’ he says. ‘I like this one way more.’
‘Oh yeah?’ Castiel asks, his mouth dry, but feeling relieved. ‘How come? I don’t even have a four burner stove.’
‘No, but you got somethin’ much better,’ Dean’s smile widens, and his hand slips underneath Castiel’s waistband.
‘Dean,’ Castiel protests, pulling away a little. ‘You just - the news - you just got emancipated .’
‘Yeah, well, emancipated me is horny,’ Dean pushes Castiel until he lies down on the couch. Castiel snorts, but he grows aroused quickly, and he doesn’t really mind Dean being so insistent on having sex. This is so much better than the hasty time in the cafe’s bathroom, and this time, he knows Dean’s not hurt and not doing it to be saved.
He can’t help wondering, though, with Dean’s lips on the side of his neck, if this new world isn’t going to change what they already have.
A MONTH LATER
When Castiel comes home, it's to find Dean sitting cross-legged in the middle of the kitchen island. There are two things in front of him: an open textbook and a grease-stained paper bag from the local fast food place. Dean's stuffing his face with fries, earphones in, music blasting so loud that Castiel can hear it from the doorway. It's chaotic and aggressive and yet, somehow, beautiful, just like his omega. Castiel stops by the coat hanger. Once again, he wonders how he ended up with someone like this as his mate.
Dean must smell he's back, because he takes one ear bud out and lets it dangle.
'Yo,' he says, and then highlights something in his book.
Castiel's books, be it textbooks or personal ones, are well-kept, with pristine pages, artistic bookmarks and careful, pencil notes. Dean's are dog-eared, spine-cracked, the omega's hectic scrawl spilling across the margins. Castiel shared his highlighter box once he saw the amount of notes Dean was taking.
'How were your classes?' Castiel asks, crossing the tiny living room and reaching Dean by the island.
'Same as always,' Dean shrugs and tips his head, demanding a kiss. Castiel gladly indulges him, but he winces at the taste of salt and grease. 'Dinner's in the fridge.'
'Yours isn't,' he accuses. Every day, Dean purchases burgers and fries from the kinds of fast food places Castiel would never want to set foot in. When he gave his mate a credit card and some weekly allowance, he told him he could buy takeout if he weren't up for cooking. Instead, Dean always cooks delicious, healthy dinner for him, but insists on eating the fast food himself.
Just like now. Castiel opens the fridge, finds a plate with some chicken and potatoes and puts it in the microwave. He spots a carrot-onion salad he really likes, freshly cut in a bowl on the counter. Which means that Dean prepared it right after he came home, and before he sat down to eat himself.
It would help to talk about things, Castiel knows. But Dean won't talk. And he insists on using the scent blockers as long as he's in school, so it's not like his scent can give anything away, either.
'You said I can eat whatever I want,' Dean replies, now, not turning around when he unwraps a burger. The paper rustles. 'This is what I want.'
Fine. Castiel sighs and takes off his suit, hanging it on the chair. Dean has his back to him, but Castiel knows he notices. He also knows he'll find his clothes in the wardrobe in the morning, wrinkles ironed out. That's just what Dean does, because he's a fucking enigma. A marshmallow-soft heart wrapped in layers of barbed wire.
'Tough day?' Dean asks, finally looking up from his book. He looks tired. Castiel comes over with his plate and sits down facing him, hating how Dean's socked foot is within dangerous proximity to his mashed potatoes.
'Yes,' he admits. 'I believe I have been pranked.'
'What?' Dean frowns, and takes out the second earbud. This means he's being serious, Castiel learned. 'Why?'
'I have given a student an unsatisfying grade,' Castiel sighs, cutting his chicken into neat little pieces.
'Did he deserve it?'
'It was a she, and yes,' he replies. Dean nods, doesn't question it. His omega trusts his judgment, and it warms Castiel's heart. There's a small frown on his face, vivid green eyes wide open. It hits Castiel, how nice it is to have someone who's there to listen. Who cares.
'Her friends locked me in the lecture room.'
'What the fuck?' Dean stares at him, disgusted. 'Are they fucking five?'
He jumps off the counter, suddenly pissed and ready to pick a fight. Castiel's familiar with this mood.
'Are you okay?' he asks, fists balled.
'Yes,' Castiel nods, and takes a bite of his dinner. 'Your cooking definitely saved this day.'
'I'm being serious, man,' Dean places a hand on his shoulder and leans close. 'They do anything to you? How long were you in there for?'
'About fifteen minutes, I just had to call the janitor,' Castiel replies, turning in his seat. He's surprised that Dean's this upset. 'Really, Dean, it's just a stupid prank. It annoyed me, but that's all. I'll have to report it to the rector, and they'll probably get suspended.'
Dean looks at him for a moment longer, searchingly. He still seems worried, but most of all, uncertain, his eyes darting up and down Castiel's face like he doesn't know what to say. Shockingly, Castiel thinks he might get a hug, but instead, Dean opens his mouth and says:
'You wanna fuck?'
Castiel startles. No matter how often Dean asks this, the bluntness still catches him off guard. And it has been more than forty times by now, he's sure of it, if one counts all the oral sex and the handjobs. Dean likes both, but most of all, he likes being "pounded", as he puts it, in the middle of Castiel's big bed, needy and demanding and rude. Castiel'd much rather they've exchanged sweet words, and explored each other more. But Dean doesn't like foreplay, he doesn't like "being coddled". He likes encouraging the alpha with challenging commands, never pleas. Castiel tried to take it slow only to have Dean force the pace and borderline demean him if he doesn't go as fast as he's able.
But he can't hold it against Dean, who looks so happy when they're tied - that's when it happens, for a fraction of a second Dean's someone else, he looks fond and shy and submissive and that's exactly what Castiel wants.
'I'm having dinner,' he protests half-heartedly. Dean's still leaning close. Castiel can count the freckles spanning across his cheeks, the bridge of his nose; he wants to kiss the plump pink lips that Dean licks suggestively with a tiny smirk.
'You can have me first,' he offers, and Castiel really doesn't have the heart to refuse. He grabs Dean's cock through his jeans and his omega's breath catches.
'Will you ride me?' Castiel asks, pulling Dean closer, rubbing a hand over the bulge in his pants. 'I'm tired.'
Dean's cheeks flush and he grins. He's always so happy to have sex, and so happy to please.
'Hell yeah,' he sits on Castiel's lap and they make out hotly, Castiel growing hard in his slacks. He stops to rub his nose against Dean's, just a second of a different kind of intimacy, and impossibly, Dean allows it. But then he's already up and dragging Castiel to the bedroom, only one thing on his mind.
Two days later, the students who harrassed Castiel get suspended. Castiel doesn't think much about it; he's not present when the rector calls them to the office for a stern talking-to. Instead, he's in the middle of his afternoon lecture, and he notices something's going on, some kind of commotion outside. His students plaster themselves to the windows to watch once they spot the argument, and he, too, has a good view.
Something's wrong with the cars lined at the curb. Everyone can hear the sounds of engines turning over without starting, four fancy cars in a row, and the students yelling angrily to each other. Castiel recognizes all of them as his assailants. It's clear someone messed with their cars, and Castiel feels something in his chest tighten when he realizes what happened. It's worry, but also - satisfaction? Thankfulness?
Love?
Security is called. There is no footage, because the cars were parked by the lawn instead of in the proper parking space. Castiel expects to be named a suspect - the cars were, without a doubt, damaged on the campus - but he had lectures all day, he was stuck in the room ever since eight am. More than that, he has a good reputation - someone like him would never do anything as lowly as petty revenge, and all teachers would have his back should there be any questioning.
Not to mention, everyone's aware he doesn't know first thing about cars.
It's no surprise, really, when Dean visits him an hour later. He has a free period, Castiel knows, he memorized his schedule. They often eat lunch together. Dean digs in his backpack for the sandwich.
'Heard the news? Pretty wild, huh?' he asks conversationally, and perches on Castiel's desk.
'Yes. I wonder who could've done that,' Castiel replies, meeting his gaze steadily.
'I wonder as well,' Dean agrees with a straight face, lying a greasy wrench down on the table.
'You think they'll get caught?' Castiel asks, taking his own sandwich from his bag. Dean made it in the morning.
'They won't,' Dean says, and smiles. There's an easy mischief to it, and Castiel's in love. They lock the door and spend the free period kissing on Castiel's desk, their sandwiches forgotten.
It's Tuesday, which means Dean's classes end very late. They were supposed to always drive together, but it proved impossible due to their varying schedules. Most days, Dean's back before Castiel, but sometimes, he has evening lectures and the alpha has to drive down on campus late at night. It's always worth it, though. Dean waits on the curb next to the entrance, and he looks like he doesn't expect Castiel to come. He always lights up when he spots the car. It's subtle, but Castiel has learned to notice.
It always warms his heart, taking care of Dean. Which is why now, even though he's tired, he prepares dinner; he's had enough of his omega eating cheap fast food. Then, he attempts to fold their clothes from the dryer. Dean doesn't own much more than what he came with - just a couple more shirts and jeans, and a warm winter coat. He refuses to go shopping, insisting that what he has is enough.
Arguing with Dean is pointless and only makes Castiel want to scream in frustration. But he loves him, and he hopes one day, Dean will trust him enough to really open up.
When the place looks clean enough, he drives to pick up Dean. The streets are dark, there are no cars on the road. The campus is far enough that it always makes Castiel feel uneasy, driving down there in the evening, especially when there's snow. The thought of Dean making his way home on foot, back when he lived with Gordon, makes him shudder.
He smiles when he spots Dean, waiting by the lantern, as per usual. The omega always looks so surprised, fidgeting in the clear circle of yellow light, waiting for Castiel and still, somehow, expecting no one to arrive.
'Hi, sweetheart,' Castiel says when Dean gets inside and slams the door.
'Hey,' Dean smiles bashfully.
'How was your day?' Castiel turns down the radio and drives back to town, eager to leave the old looming buildings behind.
'Uh, actually, there's something I gotta tell you,' Dean says, and wipes his palms on his jeans.
'Oh,' Castiel's instantly worried. Has someone bothered his omega? He glances at Dean expectantly.
'I,' Dean starts, smiling nervously. 'I got an, uh, A, today.'
Castiel blinks.
'What?' he says, his panic fading away. 'Dean, that's amazing.'
'Yeah,' Dean drops his eyes to stare at his lap. He's proud, Castiel can see and smell it, but for some reason, he's anxious about Castiel's reaction.
'Baby, that's amazing!' Castiel repeats, and blindly grabs Dean's hand. 'What class?'
'Intro to mechanical engineering,' Dean replies, shrugging. 'Glorified Maths.'
'I never could understand Mathematics,' Castiel muses. 'I'm so proud of you.'
'Yeah?' Dean asks, a little hopefully.
'Of course!'
'It's, uh, my first A ever, you know,' he says and smiles. 'So yeah, there's that.'
'We'll celebrate,' Castiel promises him. He knows Dean's a hardworking student, and it's nice to see some results start to appear. 'I made dinner. And we can watch a movie?'
He feels Dean stare at him for a moment.
'Yeah, okay,' he says, and doesn't add anything else, but he smells pleased, so Castiel lets it go.
On Wednesday, Castiel spends the afternoon going through the essays. Dean plops down on the couch next to him, and sighs deeply.
'Man, I'm exhausted,' he announces, and stretches his arms above his head. 'Twenty seven Physics exercises. Twenty seven! That's not - that's not even homework .'
'What is it, then?'
'Fucking - hard labor, I dunno,' Dean sinks lower on the couch.
'I thought you enjoyed your classes,' Castiel teases, striking out a sentence.
'I mean, I'm glad it's cars now, not changing old folks' diapers,' Dean rolls his eyes. 'But the prof hates me.'
'Do you sleep in his classes as well?'
'Cas!' Dean slaps his shoulder. 'I'm serious, it's torture. Last week he made me solve some shit on the board, just cause he knows I hate him.'
'Maybe it was because he wants you to participate?' Castiel asks calmly, putting the page away. 'Did you think about asking him about tutoring classes, like you did me?'
'Oh, I definitely did you,' Dean replies, wiggling his eyebrows, but Castiel just levels him with a stare. His omega exhales. 'Fine, geez. I only asked you for help cause you were hot. He smells like cabbage and his hair is so old it's yellow.'
Castiel snorts.
'Are we talking about Johnson?' Dean nods. 'He does smell like cabbage.'
'See!' Dean points at him triumphantly. 'No way I'm asking him for help.'
'Okay, but what about other students? There are study groups, and you don't have any friends.'
'I do have friends, fuck off,' Dean leans back, offended. 'Besides, I don't need no one-'
'Anyone.'
'- and I don't need help. I'm just complaining, and you're supposed to say, "I'm so sorry, Dean, your teacher is an asshole and you're being exploited".'
'I'm so sorry, Dean, your teacher is an asshole,' Castiel deadpans. 'You're definitely being exploited.'
'Ugh, you suck ,' Dean groans, and thumps his head against the back of the couch. 'I hate school. I hate everything.'
Castiel lets Dean indulge in his self-pity session, but he eyes his outfit.
'Are you wearing my hoodie?' he asks. He's spotted Dean doing it before; an old, worn out university hoodie, and it's a bit too big on Dean, but the sight makes Castiel feel... possessive, and something stirs in his gut.
'Yeah,' Dean replies, and reaches for one of the essays, pretending to read it.
'We could buy you your own,' Castiel suggests, circling a glaring grammar mistake.
'You don't want me wearing it?' Dean asks with a bite to his voice. Castiel frowns. Sometimes Dean's too puzzling, and it's tiring.
'I don't mind it,' Castiel replies carefully. 'I like seeing you in it.'
'It's an omega thing,' Dean grumbles. 'I gotta do it. You should've given me more of your clothes.'
'Oh,' Castiel's surprised. He's never heard of such a custom. 'I will, then. Feel free to help yourself to my T-shirts.'
'Sure,' Dean replies slowly. They're talking about something else, Castiel knows, this isn't about omega customs or even the hoodie. But he can't get it. Dean looks weary and unsure, younger than he is in the sunlight filtering through the window. Castiel wishes he had a bigger apartment, a more lucrative job, an expensive car instead of the beat up one he drives. He wishes he could give Dean more than this, an ugly lump of a couch with several broken springs. Something designed to make Dean feel at home, like. Well, like an Omega House. Maybe his mate would be happier then.
'Do you want to help me grade the essays?' he asks on a whim. He's never asked Dean to do it before. His omega startles, and looks surprised.
'You know how writing goes for me,' he replies with a bitter smile. But it's not a no.
'I'm already biased, maybe you'll provide a fresh outlook,' Castiel says and nudges him with a knee. Dean smiles, slowly, and it's real this time.
'Yeah, okay,' he agrees, and grabs a red marker. 'Hey, why'd you get this job, anyway?'
Hm. Castiel cocks his head.
'I like literature,' he replies. 'So I studied it, and teaching seemed like the next logical step.'
'Huh,' Dean says, and doesn't add anything else.
'What?' Castiel insists, turning to look at Dean. The omega worries his lip between his teeth.
'I don't know,' he shrugs, and squints at the essay he's holding. 'Is expectorate a word?'
'It is,' Castiel leans over the work Dean picked; an analysis of Homer's Iliad. 'No, cross it out. They should've just said spit. For some reason, when people write about old literature, they like to use pretentious words.'
'All this effort and still no match for this guy,' Dean jokes weakly, tapping next to "Homer". 'I'm not, uh, much into poetry.'
'Yes, I'm aware,' Castiel replies, but he drapes an arm over Dean's shoulders, pulling him close. His omega is stiff for a moment - always, always reluctant to any kind of affection that's not sex - but eventually, he folds himself on the couch and hugs his body to Castiel's. 'But you do like some books.'
'Yeah, some ,' Dean says. 'Isn't it boring, though? I get that you like to read, but this isn't reading. It's telling other people to read stuff, and then write about it.'
'Well, I enjoy it,' Castiel considers it. 'But most of all, I like getting to glimpse people's personalities through their works. It doesn't always show, of course, but sometimes-'
'What'd you see in mine?' Dean asks, playfully, but there's an undertone of apprehension in his voice.
'That you long to get away,' Castiel replies simply, remembering Dean's work on Kerouac, and the raw yearning for freedom.
'Right,' Dean says, and clears his throat. Something's wrong, Castiel's response wasn't what Dean expected. 'Getting away. That's me.'
Castiel's tired. He's so, so tired of not being able to understand Dean.
'Would you like to travel to a cabin with me, by the end of the month?' he asks, suddenly, hoping this will help, and resolve the tension. He's been thinking about it for a while, anyway; perhaps they'd get along better if they were away from the university and the tiny apartment. He doesn't really know Dean outside of school and their bed, and Dean's not keen on opening up. The omega's not sad either, not really; but it doesn't mean he's happy.
'What cabin?' Dean frowns, but he looks interested.
'My brother owns one, away from the city, by the lake,' Castiel explains. 'We could swim, and unwind.'
'Swim?' Dean gapes at him. 'Dude, it's like 35 outside, we'll fucking freeze.'
'We could try,' Castiel cocks his head. 'Ice baths have several health advantages. Unless you have any heart diseases?'
'You're crazy,' Dean stares, eyes wide open, but there's some awe in them, too. 'Let's do it.'
They continue grading the essays together, Dean by his side, and somehow, offering an ice bath to his omega was the right move. And he does work hard. Maybe it's something they both need, a trip, getting to know each other better.
Castiel finishes early - his last lecture is called off because of a snow storm. It's still bright outside, though, and he packs his briefcase and decides to visit Dean. He should be having a gap between classes, and he usually spends it in the library. Castiel's not visited him before, in the one month they've been together; first, the hassle with changing Dean's majors, then Castiel's own work, it took up a lot of his time. But now he's free, and excited to check in on his omega. He hopes Dean will be happy about it too.
He leaves the main building and goes to the other side of the campus, his scarf wrapped tight around his neck against the unforgiving wind. Snow swirls around him, and the pavement is slippery, but he makes it to another gray, imposing building, and steps inside, stomping his boots to get rid of the snow. It's a short walk to the library - upstairs, with a cozy interior and heavy brass lamps and wide tables - but he doesn't make it there before he bumps into Dean, wide-eyed and seething, fleeing the bathroom in haste.
'Shit, sorry-' he says, before he rights himself and notices his alpha. 'Cas?'
'What happened?' Castiel asks, and then he notices a bruise forming under Dean's eye, and a rip at the collar of his shirt. 'Who did this?'
He feels cold calm overcome him; he feels steady and furious, eyes zeroed in on the mark on Dean's face.
'No one,' Dean pushes his hand away, and he realizes he reached out to touch it. 'It's nothing, leave it.'
'Dean,' Castiel warns. 'Are you being bullied?'
'Oh my god,' Dean rolls his eyes, exasperated. 'No. I got into a fight, okay? Some preppy kids pissed me off. I'm fine, you should've seen them .'
'Who were they?' Castiel's fingers tighten around Dean's shoulder. 'Alphas? Omegas?'
'Both, and I told you to leave it,' Dean snaps, and takes a step back. 'Why are you here?'
'I came here to visit you,' Castiel explains, trying hard to think straight. 'I finished early. There's a snow storm coming, and the classes were cancelled.'
'Oh,' Dean blinks. 'So you came to get me?'
'Ideally, I thought I'd sit with you in the library while you study, first,' Castiel replies, surprised to see the shock on Dean's face. 'But now we're going home. I need to take care of you.'
'I can take care of myself,' Dean says, angry, and stuffs his hands in his pockets. 'It's just a bruise. College kids are dicks, Cas, you know it.'
'Is this because of me?' Castiel asks. 'Is this revenge for what you did to the cars-'
'No,' Dean cuts him off sternly. 'It's not about that. It's nothing.'
Castiel looks at him, searchingly, for a moment more, but when Dean clams up, he clams up for good.
'Fine,' he sighs. 'Let's go home, and you'll take care of your own bruise.'
'Fine,' Dean echoes, challenging. But when they leave the building, his anger seems to melt away, and then, on the narrow sidewalk, he stays a few steps behind Castiel, and Castiel soon feels something hard and wet hit his head.
He whirls around to find Dean aiming another snowball at his face, and he ducks and bends down to grab a handful of snow. Dean's good, but he's not that good; a snowball hits him in the cheek, and he lets out a howl of laughter. He runs up to Castiel only to rub more snow into his hair.
'Thanks for coming to get me,' he grins, while the alpha shakes out the cold snow, fighting a stupid smile. They're being idiotic, if any of his students have seen him... but Dean's smile is wide and brilliant, and his eyes sparkle, and there's a puff of steam coming out of his mouth, and Castiel kisses him, his own, warm and young and impossible Dean.
Back home, when Dean's in the shower, Castiel reaches into his bag to unpack his books and leave them on the kitchen island, Dean's usual spot. One of the books, though, has its cover torn off; Castiel leans closer to investigate, and he's shocked by what he discovers.
Not only Dean's being bullied, he's being harrassed. The book is ruined; there's a big, bright "slut" written across the front page with a red sharpie, and crude caricatures of him and Dean engaged in sexual activities. In one of them, Dean is giving him a blow job, and it's titled "Passing the course". Two other books are useless as well; the pages are torn, and covered in similar drawings and slurs, bitch, whore, fucktoy. Castiel's cheeks heat up; he wants to find every single person who did this to Dean, and tear out their throats.
But he hears the shower turn off - it's old and rickety, and he always hears when the pipes stop rattling - and he hides the books in Dean's bag, and goes to make them dinner. Confronting Dean will do nothing to help, and might only embarrass him. The omega looks sad and tired when he exits, the bruise under his eye turning an ugly purple color, and Castiel feels angry angry angry-
- but he swallows it down. It's hard to hide it from his scent, too, but he tries.
'Hey,' he says, when Dean enters the kitchen. 'How are you feeling?'
'I'm fine ,' Dean insists, but he looks too worn out to get mad. 'What are we doin'?'
'I'm making some dinner. I'll just put the lasagne in the oven, okay?'
'Sure, whatever,' Dean shrugs and wanders to the couch, listlessly.
'I thought we could watch a movie,' Castiel offers, because that usually cheers Dean up. He looks out of the small rectangular window over the sink, overlooking the fire escape; the town is covered in snow, but the storm is still strong, the wind whistling through the cracks.
'Cas?' Dean asks, and he's unnaturally quiet and brooding. Dean has his moods, and he rarely says what he means, and he keeps things to himself; but this might be the first time Castiel sees him be so... defeated.
'Yes?' he asks and turns around, waiting for the oven to heat up.
'What do you think I should do later?' Dean continues, and it surprises Castiel. 'Like, with my life.'
'Hm,' Castiel replies, hands tight on the counter. 'Whatever you want?'
'No, like, really,' Dean insists, wrapping his arms around himself. 'I've been thinking. What if I... became a teacher, like you?'
Castiel stares at him, dumbfounded. Dean stares back, open and intense. This is important, Castiel realizes, though why, he can't comprehend. Still, he schools his features back into something neutral.
'Well, if that's what you want,' he starts, slowly. 'Surely we could arrange it. But - I thought you wanted to be a mechanic. I thought that was the whole point.'
'Maybe I changed my mind,' Dean drops his eyes and shrugs. The tense moment is gone, but Castiel doesn't know what Dean's read in his face or scent, if it was good or bad. 'I think - uh. Aren't teachers, like, more respectable or whatever? I mean, you're respectable.'
'Mechanics are respectable too,' Castiel tells him, a smile dancing on his lips. 'All jobs are, Dean.'
'Yeah, geez,' Dean rolls his eyes. 'You know what I mean.'
He doesn't. He really, really doesn't.
'Look, if you really want to be a teacher, we can definitely figure it out,' he tells Dean warmly, hating how the omega fidgets on the couch, the disgusting drawings still fresh in his mind. 'But think about it, okay? Finish this semester, see if you don't want to be a mechanic anymore. I'm sure we could find a teacher position that accepts omegas, somewhere.'
'Like the university?'
Castiel really doesn't know what's happening anymore.
'You want to work at the university?' he repeats.
Dean puffs up his chest, unconsciously. Oh-uh, Castiel thinks. In for another fight.
'What, you think I don't got what it takes?' the omega asks, irritated.
'I'm sure you do,' Castiel placates, putting up his hands, hoping to steer the lighter away from the fuse before it's too late. 'I just didn't think you were the kind of person who would pursue it-'
'Well, I could be,' Dean snaps, fire in his eyes. Just as quickly, though, he averts them, as if ashamed. 'Whatever. I was just thinking out loud.'
That was decidedly not what was happening. Living with Dean is like a string of those small, important moments that Castiel can easily gauge as formative to their relationship but has no idea what they are even about, and therefore, how to proceed.
The oven beeps; it's heated up. The wind picks up, howling more forcefully. The snowflakes are slamming into the windows at full speed, disappearing before they really form. Castiel puts the lasagne in the oven.
'Cas,' Dean says from the couch. 'I, uh. I really like it here.'
Oh. That makes Castiel smile. It sounds very real and honest, too.
'I really like you being here,' he replies, and comes over to the couch, happy that the conversation finally got on the right track. He sits down next to Dean and wraps his arms around him. It comes so easily, but Dean always tenses. He's incredible in bed, no hesitation, but whenever they hug it's just... awkward. Like Dean's touching a live wire, his body stiff and unmoving. Castiel still cuddles him, though, and kisses his forehead.
'I don't. Uh. I don't think I wanna have sex, today,' Dean tells him, and that makes Castiel pause. Immediately, Dean scrambles to add: 'Just tonight. I'm just tired. Was just thinking of going to bed early-'
'Dean, of course we won't be having sex,' Castiel chastises him, something heavy and unpleasant in his stomach. 'You're hurt.'
'Huh?' Dean blinks, bewildered. 'Oh, right,' he gingerly touches the bruise under his eye. 'Right, sure.'
They watch one of Dean's favourite movies, and he doesn't mouth along to any lines. They eat dinner, and he doesn't have an appetite. They go to bed, and Dean lets Castiel carry him, clinging to his neck and blinking at him sleepily.
'Goodnight,' Castiel tells him, kissing his cheek and settling down next to him with a book.
'Night night,' Dean murmurs hazily, sweet and vulnerable like never before, and Castiel stops and stares as the omega drifts off under the covers.
Something is going on, and he'll need to get to the bottom of it. He just doesn't know how .
The following day, he visits Dean in between his classes, carrying some of his favourite snacks. He's rarely in this part of the campus, but he finds his way without problem, having memorized Dean's schedule and classrooms. The right room is on the second floor, and he waits on one of the uncomfortable, hard wooden benches until the class is over.
There's some shuffling and soon, the students pour out of the lecture room. Some recognize him; a good portion of them took the preparatory after-high-school courses, which included literature. Some are even polite enough to greet him. Castiel knows he's not too popular with students, but he's also not particularly hated. He expects a lot, but as long as people put in the work, he's more than happy to guide them and help them out.
'Dean!' he calls out when he sees his omega leave the classroom, a bag slung over his shoulder, eyes tired. He's wearing Castiel's university hoodie, as per usual. For the first time, Castiel wonders - perhaps it brings him comfort?
When he sees Castiel, Dean looks surprised and a little wary.
'Hey, Cas,' he says, coming over. 'What's up? Somethin' happen?'
'No,' Castiel smiles and pulls him in for a quick kiss. He feels Dean smile, a little bashfully. He's aware that the other students can see them, and he doesn't care. It's about time he started treating Dean as his mate, with all the care and respect he deserves. 'I just missed you.'
'Oh?' Dean blinks at him, for a moment, thrown. 'Right. Uh. Same.'
'I got us something to eat. Can we go down to the lunch room? You have an hour until your next class.'
Castiel shows him the plastic bag with the bag of chips and sour candy and iced coffee, and Dean grins, awed. God, Castiel really isn't that great at providing for his new mate if this is what makes him so happy. Sometimes it's easy to forget that Dean's never had a proper relationship, that he's been taken advantage of relentlessly, and is probably unused to receiving gifts and affection.
He does a real good job of covering that up, Castiel thinks. His past. He's seen it with his own eyes, and it's still so easy to put behind them, with the way Dean acts most of the time, like this right here is the only life he's used to.
Castiel feels determination well up inside him. He will do better.
'Man, Cas,' Dean says, smiling. 'Yeah, let's go eat. This really just cause you missed me?'
'Yes,' Castiel confirms, getting up and wrapping an arm around Dean's waist. He leads him downstairs, joining the crowd, and some of the students part to let them through. Dean holds his head high, but Castiel can feel the tension in his shoulders. It's strange to think that those adults around them have bullied Dean in such a childish, cruel manner. Then again, Castiel knows the first-year college kids, fresh out of high school, with rich parents who pay for everything they want and prejudices bigger than the amount on their bank accounts. Kids who will belittle everyone out of their clique. And he recalls quite a few individuals with just these characteristics, from his classes only. Like the dumb boys in jersey sweaters, with shoelaces costing more than Castiel's salary, staring at them now with hands in their pockets. The idea of those idiots beating his Dean up in the bathroom and tearing his books has Castiel see red.
He and Dean make it to the large, light-filled room with giant windows overlooking the green space of the campus. There are quite many empty tables and Castiel heads that way, but then Dean pulls back and eyes him critically.
'Look, I appreciate the show,' he says, and it must be clear on Castiel's face and in his scent, how angry he is, because Dean puts a hand on his cheek and runs a thumb across it, in a display of affection so unlike Dean, Castiel brain screeches to a halt. 'I really do. Should shut'em up for a day or two. Now that you've showed them who's boss, I guess you gotta go?'
'What?' Castiel asks, mouth dry. 'I wasn't - that's not-'
Dean snorts, not looking away from him.
'Dude, you smelled so territorial, I swear the whole building knew you came over.'
'Well,' Castiel concedes. 'I would do far more if any of them dared to say anything. I just don't want anyone to pick fights with you, is that so wrong?' Dean just shrugs, still strangely satisfied. Maybe he enjoyed Castiel publicly defending him. 'But this isn't why I came. I really wanted to spend some time with you.'
Dean's brow furrows.
'You really got no class right now?'
'No, Dean, I came here to spend time with you ,' Castiel insists, refusing to acknowledge the stab of pain he felt at Dean's disbelief. Disbelief, or reluctance? Perhaps it really is just what everyone else is saying. Castiel heard them, the teachers gossiping, his own brother calling him to tell him how insane he is. He's just using you. Playing the poor victim part until he milks you out of all your money . But Dean doesn't want any money from him. He never asks for anything for himself, and he studies, and he cleans the house, and he cooks.
And when they have sex, he kisses Castiel softly, sometimes, or squeezes his hand, like it means something.
So surely it must. Dean's just unused to all of this, that's all. He doesn’t stay just because it’s more convenient than to leave.
And Dean does perk up, once he seems to believe that Castiel's intentions were true. They sit under one of the windows, staring at the snow falling down slowly, sharing the chips and the candy and drinking the too-sweet iced coffee. Dean asks questions that sound like an interrogation, at first: what did he do today, how were the students, does he have a lot of work to take home, any plans for dinner. But he really listens, and Castiel realizes he just doesn't know what to talk about in moments like these. During their... dates.
'What was your childhood like?' Castiel asks, making a face at the sour citrus candy he unconsciously picked.
'Man, you're not pulling any punches, huh?' Dean jokes weakly, with a face that, Castiel's learned, means he's uncomfortable. 'I dunno. It was fine.'
'Did you travel a lot?'
'I guess?' Dean shrugs. 'Me and my brother... yeah, we'd get left at a ton of weird places when my dad was working. And I mean weird, like seriously fucked up. Like, there was a Garden of Oddities attached to one of the motels dad ditched us at. And it was like, dead animals dressed up like characters. Like, think that's called taxidermy. Fucking gross.'
'Oh,' Castiel says, swallowing with difficulty. 'Yes, that doesn't sound... pleasant.' The childhood of being left alone in skanky motel rooms doesn't either. 'But. Your brother, Sam. Do you talk to him often?'
'Sometimes,' Dean sips his iced coffee. Suddenly, he smells so sharply of melancholy, it's apparent despite his blockers and hits Castiel like a tidal wave. 'I wish he were around more. He's at Stanford, studying.'
'Why don't you invite him over?' Castiel suggests gently. 'I know my apartment's not... very luxurious, but we could still have dinner together, get to know each other.'
Dean's silent for a moment.
'Yeah, I guess,' he replies noncommittally, but Castiel can see he's thinking about it.
'I called Michael the other day. My brother,' he announces. 'He gave us the green light for the cabin, so if you still want to go...'
'Sure,' Dean smiles, now, genuinely. 'Yeah, Cas. Can't wait.'
At least, Castiel thinks, it was a good decision to come. One of these days, Dean will stop looking so surprised whenever Castiel shows some interest in his life.
Castiel enters the apartment and immediately smells that Dean's home. He's on the phone, too, and that's something new; Castiel knows Dean’s brother called him after the omega emancipation law came to pass, but other than that, Dean never seems to use his phone other than to call Castiel. Right now, he's talking loudly, probably in their bedroom, and Castiel takes off his shoes as he listens.
'-telling you now. Yeah it's been a month, so what?' A pause. 'I told you not to listen to Gordon. We're done, and it wasn't exactly a loving goodbye. Yeah. Yeah, so he paid for me, so what? We're actually mated, so- Yeah, Sam, he really is a teacher. You think I'd just mate someone off the street?'
Oh. Castiel freezes. Sam, as in Dean's brother, Sam? And Dean's telling him about Castiel's existence? Now, over a month since they're together, over a month since they mated?
'Fuck you,' Dean snaps, startling Castiel. 'I'm a big boy, I can make my own decisions. I know what I'm doing-' He stops, and he smells so agitated, it's showing in his scent again. Either he's not taking a full dose of his blockers, or he's experiencing some incredibly strong emotions lately. 'No. No, look, I'm fine. Yeah, it's fine here. I go to school, I eat, I wear my socks, mom. Shut up,' there's a tint of affection in his words, for a second. 'I know, Sammy. Yeah, I’ve thought about it, but for now- Yeah. Can't tell you how long I'll be staying. At least till the end of the month.'
What? Castiel's heart in his throat, he leans forward, but he knows he heard it right.
'And then I'll figure it out. Maybe I'll stay a bit longer, depends on how things go here. We'll see. Yeah.' The next time he speaks, his voice is strained. 'Serious? Come on, Sam, I barely know the guy. No, it's, uh, more like, friends with benefits, you know what I mean?' He chuckles suggestively. It sounds fake, all of it, sounds like Dean's putting on a show, but the ground disappears from under Castiel all the same, and he thinks-
He thinks his heart breaks.
'Don't ever contact Gordon again,' Dean continues, sounding more normal. 'It just didn't work out. Wasn't working out for a while-'
Castiel opens the front door again, making sure the hinges won't creak, and backs out into the hallway. The old lady from the apartment across from him has a white, yappy dog, and it starts barking so loud, Castiel can't hear what Dean's saying anymore. His shoes are still in his hands, and he stares at them, his heart thudding in his chest.
Dean plans to leave.
I barely know the guy.
Is Dean ashamed of him? Of his low salary, his shitty apartment? Or maybe this is really what Dean thinks? That Castiel is just a short stop on the way for him, an alpha that will have sex with him, pick him up after class? Save him from Gordon?
No, if that’s all he was to Dean - just a means to escape, which, by the way, Castiel became willingly - Dean could’ve left already. He has options, now, had them for a while, and he doesn’t need to stay with Castiel, not out of necessity.
So is it true, then, that Dean just stays because it’s convenient, without having any feelings for Castiel? That he’s using him, the weekly allowance, the warm apartment, the free rides to university, Castiel’s connections at work, even Castiel’s body? It definitely sounds that way. Instead of going through the hassle of cancelling their mating, finding a spot at the Omega House, Dean opts to live here until he finishes university and can move on, without Castiel.
But that’s - that sounds so purposefully calculated and hurtful. Can it really all be a deception? All of Dean's kisses, the way he cares for Castiel's things, the way he looks at him sometimes?
I'm a good actor, it turns out , Dean told him back at Gordon's. Is this what he had meant?
It doesn't feel like an act, when it's happening. Plus, Castiel reminds himself, it’s not like Dean even really uses what he offers. The money. The time. If anything, he tries to take up as little space as possible. That doesn’t sound like someone cunning. So maybe Dean's not... evil, maybe he doesn't even mean anything by it. Maybe he doesn't know how to be in a relationship and the things he does, they're just what an omega should be doing, to him. Not a sign of love or closeness. Like the way he's so insistent on having rough sex all the time, but seems to hate intimacy. Maybe... he just doesn't love Castiel, never has. Didn't know he was supposed to. But he still likes living with him, so he stays. Like it’s an arrangement between them, like they’re roommates, and he works hard to hold up his end of the unaddressed bargain, to not be a bother. The sex, the taking care of the house and of Castiel’s things, is it just what Dean considers his omega job, an exchange for Castiel's money and house?
And it's not like they ever said it to one another, Castiel thinks. It's not like they've talked about it at all . Love, or marriage, or even being mated. They just started living together.
The bottom line is: Dean’s not in love with him, and he plans to leave.
Feeling sick, Castiel puts on his shoes mechanically. The dog won't stop barking and it's ringing in his ears. At least till the end of the month . And then what? Dean plans to stay, to go to the cabin with him, and then what ?! Tell him he's grown bored of him? Move? Where, to Sam's, to California? Leave university? But he was just talking about being a teacher, about working alongside Castiel-
No, actually. He never said anything about Castiel. Perhaps he wants to move on, to another city, hell, another state. Find a mate he could really love. Enroll in teaching classes. And Castiel will really be nothing but a stop along the way.
God, he was so blind. All that time, he was thinking - he thought -
He imagined growing old with Dean.
He should talk to him. He should tell him he heard everything, confront him. He should find out what it really is, whatever they have between them.
But he doesn't want to. Because he's terrified of the answer. And because he loves Dean so much, he thinks he might not handle rejection very well, or at all.
Castiel lets himself back in.
'Hi, I'm home!' he calls out, and his voice doesn't even crack. Dean appears in the living room, looking subdued and somber. Clearly the conversation with Sam wasn't the happiest. Castiel wonders if Dean told him about what really happened with Gordon. Most likely not. He wishes he could ask.
'Hey, Cas,' Dean says, sounding odd. Not guilty-odd. Just odd. 'How was your day?'
He hovers near as Castiel takes off his shoes, again. He looks... lonely, and he wrings his hands nervously, which is new.
'It was fine,' Castiel replies, proud of how steady his voice comes out. 'I wanted to - uh. Ask you, I suppose. Have you ever talked to your brother about that dinner we were supposed to have?'
This is a mistake. To say that as soon as he came in, it must be obvious that he's heard Dean's conversation, it must be crystal fucking clear.
But Dean doesn't seem suspicious.
'Uh. No. Haven't talked to him at all, in a while,' he lies. It sounds very believable. 'I'll call him someday soon, I guess.'
'Okay,' Castiel agrees, and offers a lie of his own. 'There was just some good cake on sale, and I thought I could buy it ahead, if he would be coming soon. Because I can't afford to throw an expensive dinner party. I don't have that much money, lately.'
'Cas, I know,' Dean tells him, anxiously. Now he's watching him strangely, too. Castiel thinks that perhaps he is not as smooth as he tries to be. He must smell irritated, too. 'It's fine, I don't care.'
'Don't you?' Castiel asks, biting his tongue not to add anything like, "Do you not care about me, as well?".
'No,' Dean frowns, and walks with him to the kitchen. 'Hell, you should know that by now. Do I ask for too much?'
Castiel can't see or hear any mockery in that question. In fact, Dean really looks concerned.
'No, of course not,' he says, his resolve breaking. He can't stay mad at Dean, not like this. It's so hard to believe he's capable of faking all those feelings, it's like the thought seems impossible, now, that he's facing Dean. 'I was just - it's alright. I've just gotten a call from the landlord, and it stressed me out.'
'Cas,' Dean scolds him lightly. 'Man, I'll get a job. I'm serious. Let me go back to the garage, or look for something new. I can pitch in, I mean, I live here too.'
Something alpha in Castiel puffs up, angry that his mate even suggests he's not able to take care of him single-handedly. But also, would Dean really offer to work if he didn't care about Castiel? Maybe he's just being helpful, Castiel tells himself. This doesn't mean he loves him.
'No, Dean,' he says, attempting a smile. 'It's fine. The money is a bit tight, that's true, but it's nothing I can't handle. I want you to focus on school.'
Dean watches him cautiously, for a while, but eventually, he nods. They never speak of it again and Castiel carries on as if nothing happened, feeling like he's watching a car crash in slow motion, hands on the wheel but well past stopping it. He can only wait, with Dean in the passenger seat beside him.