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Castiel is angry. He loves the sea, he knows everything about it. He knows a lot about ships, about sailing and war tactics. But right now the salty wind ruffling his hair makes him furious. Because this might be the last time he’s on the sea. It’s so unfair, he was always such a good student, listening to every word his father told him, always dreaming about commanding his own ship or maybe a fleet one day. But no, just because he’s the youngest son, he’s not allowed to have a military career. He has to get married to a woman he barely knows. Margaret Masters is a beautiful and wicked little thing, but Castiel isn’t attracted to her. Like he’s not attracted to any other woman, which is the biggest flaw of his father’s plan, but at the same time, it’s something he couldn’t tell anyone even if he wanted to. So if he’s doomed to spend his life with someone he can’t love, at least not the right way, maybe Miss Masters is the right one. As far as he knows her, Castiel supposes she wouldn’t have a problem with seeking the satisfaction he can’t give her somewhere else.
He’s so deep in thoughts about his unhappy future, that he doesn’t notice something is wrong until his servant Marv grabs his arms.
"Mr Castiel, you need to hide. There’s a pirate ship-"
Castiel doesn’t listen to the man’s rambling. His heart is galloping, blood rushing through his veins.
"I am not a lady, I don’t see the reason why I should hide like one. If there’s going to be a fight, I will fight."
The servant gapes at him with horror. "If something happens to you, your father will kill me."
Castiel can’t fight the smirk that appears on his face as he pats the man’s shoulder.
"Don’t worry about it, the pirates probably won’t give him the chance."
Castiel’s heart almost stops when he recognizes the ship. It’s the Impala, big and strong ship even though it’s old. The crew led by the Winchester brothers is infamous for its cruelty and fierce fighting.
It’s like a slap in the face when Castiel realizes the theory he knows is much further from the reality than he could ever imagine. He tries to help the crew but they only bark at him to get lost. When he manages to deliver a few orders that weren’t for him, he gets some of his own.
But it’s hard. His hands are too soft for dealing with rough ropes, his expensive clothes are too constricting and his shoes slip on the planks of the deck.
No matter what the crew does, the pirates get on board.
Castiel always dreamt about fights, but facing a real one, he doesn’t know what to do.
There’s a blur around him, screaming and blood. He can feel the panic rising in his chest, sweat prickling on his skin.
He finds himself crouched beneath a mast-pole, the stench of iron and gun powder thick around him. He turns around to see one of the serving-boys (his name was Alfie, if Castiel remembers right) sprawled out, red flower of blood blooming on his chest.
Shame colors Castiel’s cheeks at how he’s cowering while others die around him.
He should fight, he knows how to use his sword, but he never did it to actually hurt someone.
He gets to his feet, clenching the hilt of his sword, painfully aware that it’s more of a jewel than a real weapon.
He takes a step forward, heading to the center of the dying fight to help his losing crew.
His breath catches in his throat as he hears heavy steps behind him. He turns around only to see a barrel of a pistol pointed to his face.
"Where are you going, pretty boy?"
The man’s voice his deep and rough. He has a handsome face with fierce green eyes and stubbled cheeks and a collection of earrings in his left ear. His loose shirt and brocade waist coat are stained with blood that obviously isn’t his own.
Castiel stares at him, jaw clenched, hands shaking.
"Drop the toothpick of yours and turn around," the pirate orders gesturing to Cas’ sword with his weapon.
There’s a wave of resistance surging in Castiel’s body, but then he hears a gunshot and scared screaming behind himself and the sword almost falls off his hand on its own.
He gathers all dignity there’s left and with his eyes glued to the man’s drops the weapon and slowly turns his back to him.
For a moment he thinks he’s going to get shot, but the man only urges him to walk by poking the pistol between his shoulder blades.
All the crew members and the passengers who survived are lined on the deck, kneeling with their hands behind their heads. There are women and children sobbing quietly.
As soon as they step to view, a redhead pirate, who to Castiel’s utter surprise is a girl, approaches the one who captured Castiel and gives him a report. In that moment Castiel realizes that he had the unfortunate honor to meet one of the Winchesters himself.
He dares to sneak a peek over his shoulder at the man he heard stories about.
"Thank you, Charlie," he answers and turns at Castiel, pushing him towards the rest of the captives.
"Wait!" somebody shouts. The Winchester turns at the man and Castiel recognizes Marv.
"He’s Admiral Milton’s son! Keep us alive and you can get a generous ransom!"
The pirate looks at Castiel, his eyes skimming over his body. It feels filthy, like he’s undressing Castiel with his gaze. A cruel smile spreads on his lips, which makes Castiel shiver.
"Thank you for your advice. Sadly it means I don’t need you." With one swift movement he draws his cutlass and cuts Marv’s throat.
The man gurgles, hands reaching for the wound from which his life is gushing out. He drops dead on his face with a sickening thud.
Castiel swallows a cry, bile rising in his throat. He hated the man, but he would never wish such an end on him.
"Lock the ladies up, my men need some entertainment." The Winchester orders his crew.
"Take care of the rich boy, we don’t want him bruised if we’re selling him off." He winks at Castiel, making him even sicker than the sight of Marv’s dead body did.
"Kill everyone who refuses to work or has rebellious thoughts."
"What about the kids, Dean?" the young pirate called Charlie asks.
Her captain just shrugs. " You cab throw them overboard for all I care."
"Please don’t!" Castiel shouts, starling himself as well as the pirates.
He tries not to tremble as the green eyes bore into him.
"My father will pay for them too. Please, don’t kill them."
The pirate steps closer, expression unreadable.
"Pretty face and a gentle heart, almost like a girl," he purrs twisting his hand around the heavy gold chain resting on Castiel’s chest. "Don’t you want to end like one too?"
Castiel feels a blush creeping up his neck, but he ignores it, squaring his shoulders as he speaks.
"Don’t hurt anyone and I’ll make sure my father gives you everything you ask for."
Dean’s face hardens.
"You’re not in the position to negotiate." With that he tugs at the chain so hard it breaks and slips off Castiel’s neck. Castiel gasps in pain and stutters forward. When he looks up, his captor’s face is so close he can feel his hot breath.
"Take his expensive clothes off, he won’t need them anymore," he growls, then turns away.
"Put him in a separate cabin. Leave the kids with their mothers."
With that he leaves. Castiel almost collapses with relief.
The pirates are laughing at him, making lewd comments, as one of them - a bear of a man with soft blue eyes, but cruel smile - is robbing him of all his possessions. Castiel tries to ignore them, instead staring at Dean who is talking with a tall man who can’t be anyone else but Sam Winchester. Dean is staring back, cold eyes roaming over Castiel’s exposed body as he’s stripped off his coat and pants, left only in his underwear.
"Something’s bothering you, brother?" Benny drawls and hands Dean a bottle of rum from their new ship’s stock.
"Is it about our special cargo?" he adds, making Dean choke on the drink.
"What? No, there’s nothing special about... our hostage."
Benny tilts his head with a knowing smile. "Of course not. So did you write to his father already?"
Dean frowns and rubs his forehead. "I’ll do it tomorrow. Today was a long day. I’m going to rest." He gets up, taking the bottle with him.
“Sure, I just think we should get rid of him as soon as possible.”
“Why?”
“Because people like him bring out the soft in you.”
Dean clenches his jaw and opens the door. “There´s no soft in me.”
Benny smiles and wishes him a good night. Dean nods and heads to his new cabin. He’s glad Sam stayed on the Impala, he wouldn’t let it go as easily as Benny.
Dean slams the cabin door behind himself and takes a sip of the rum. He looks around; the place is more luxurious than any other cabin he’s ever stayed at. The bed is big considering the small place it has to fit in, there’s a carved writing table and a few chests with clothes.
He steps closer to the table, picks up a book that lies there and opens it on the first page.
This is a private property of Castiel Milton.
Dean’s heart picks up the pace as he realizes who the cabin used to belong to.
It has already been hard not to think about the young man, but now it’s downright impossible.
The nature of the thoughts that rush into his head makes Dean cringe. He doesn´t think that there´s something downright wrong about the things he imagines he´d like to do to the boy.
His father never allowed such behavior on his ship, not even when they were on the sea for a long time with no women and his men were losing their minds.
Since Dean and his brother took command, the rules have loosened. They have a girl in their crew and they don´t care in whose bed their men spend the night as long as it´s consensual, they don´t allow any violence between the members of the crew.
He knows that right now there´s at least a couple of sailors on his ship that prefer to lay with someone of the same sex.
Dean himself entertained such thoughts before. Sometimes when he was touching himself, he wondered how it would feel to touch another man. Yet never imagined anyone in particular and what´s more important, he never felt an urge to act on those thoughts.
Right now all he can think about are the blue eyes of the Milton boy. The eyes that were scared but defiant as they stared at him. The eyes hunt him as well as wide pink lips and thick dark hair and lean body with much less curves than what Dean usually likes.
It´s like an itch under his skin that he can´t scratch, like his whole body craves the proximity of the boy. Only he knows he would have to do something terrible to get what he wants. Maybe Benny was right and he´s going soft.
He shakes his head, desperately trying to clear it. He drops himself on the bed which smells like lavender and rosemary - like those little bags of dried herbs nobles keep in the chests with their clothes and linen to keep them smelling nice.
He wonders if he could smell it on the boy´s skin, on his hair.
He heaves a heavy sight and tries to drown his urges in rum.
Castiel is lying on the hard bunk of his new cabin. It’s small and dirty with nothing more than the bunk, a simple wooden chest and a chamber pot.
This morning he thought his life couldn’t have been worse. Oh how wrong he was. Even if the pirates really bring him to his father alive and he agrees to pay him off, he’ll be ashamed forever. Castiel used to dream about adventure, but now he understands it isn’t as brilliant as he thought. It smells of rat droppings and damp rags.
He should be thankful for his position. If not for his origin, he would have ended up dead.
He startles as he hears a key rattling in the lock and when the door opens, he jumps to his feet.
His heart skips a beat as Dean Winchester enters the cabin and locks the door. He’s wearing a clean shirt and appears unarmed but there’s a strong chance he has a dagger hidden somewhere on his body.
He doesn’t speak, just stares at Castiel with an expression that’s hard to read. The word hungry appears in Castiel’s mind and his throat constricts as he realizes what Dean came here for. He thinks about fighting for a moment, he’s fairly good in fist fight, but then he realizes he’s on a ship full of pirates. Even if he managed to escape this cabin, he’d have nowhere to run to.
He clenches his fists as Dean steps closer. He smells of alcohol and his body radiates heat that Castiel can feel on his skin.
"Make a noise and I slit your throat," Dean growls and Castiel is reminded of Marv’s unfortunate end. Dean Winchester is cruel and ruthless; Castiel has no chance but to surrender.
"I won’t hurt you if you don’t fight me," the pirate says, voice low and husky.
Catiel doesn’t nod, he barely manages to breathe, eyes fixed on Dean´s.
Something strange flicks over Dean´s face, almost like guilt. It´s gone in a hertbeat and his strong hand grabs Castiel´s shoulder, turning him around.
"On the bed, face down," Dean orders. Castiel’s knees are trembling as he obeys and crawls on the bulk. He presses his face into the pillow and squeezes his eyes shut. He felt sorry for the ladies when Dean mentioned they were going to be an entertainment for the crew, it never occurred to him, his fate might be the same.
He feels the other man straddling his hips and hears the clink of the buckle of Dean’s belt.
He takes a deep breath, trying to prepare himself for what is to come. He once slept with a whore his father paid for him and asked the girl what she does to make the intercourse with someone she doesn’t like more bearable. She told him that she imagined she was a bird, flying high in the clouds, far far away from her body.
He tries to do the same, but he can’t. Not when Dean’s hand presses down on his back, not when he hears his heavy breath.
Many times he’s been teased for his appearance, compared to a girl, but no one ever dared to touch him, not without his consent.
Tears are prickling in his eyes as he waits for his clothes to be ripped off.
But Dean never touches him except the firm hand on his back. Confused, Castiel focuses on Dean’s breath that gets more and more labored.
Shock runs through Castiel’s body as it finally occurs to him that the man is touching himself. He doesn’t know what to think. He remembers Dean’s promise not to hurt him, but he didn’t trust him.
He knows he should be relieved and he is, but he’s unable to stop his mind from picturing Dean’s hand stroking his hard member.
Dean grunts and shifts on top of Castiel’s body, his hand slides up his back to his neck, fingers slipping between the strands of his hair.
Castiel grips the sheets and exhales heavily into the pillow.
Dean makes a strangled sound as he reaches his climax and spills himself over Castiel’s shirt.
Castiel can feel his body shaking with aftershock as he leans on his hands, head bowed so low that his hot breath grazes over Castiel’s neck.
Then the pirate hurriedly gets up, adjusting his clothes and without a word or a spared look leaves the cabin, locking Castiel in.
Castiel lies there like his blood stopped running in his veins. The remainder of Dean is soaking through his shirt, hot on his skin. He’s less ashamed of it than of the mess he made himself, cooling in his underpants.
Castiel expects Dean to come back next night. He knows it’s wrong, but his body is actually thrumming with anticipation.
Castiel shouldn’t think about Dean in this way. The man is a criminal, he’s a murderer, but Castiel couldn´t stop thinking about him.
Why he didn´t take what he wanted? Was it because of his father? Or he didn´t want Castiel in that way. Then why would he even come? Maybe he just didn´t want to hurt him? He barely touched him. Why that fact made Castiel´s body react so violently?
Castiel’s heart leaps to his throat every time somebody opens the door, but it’s never Dean, just someone bringing him food.
After two days he’s bored stiff and worried sick. Did they send the letter to his father? Where is the ship headed? Are they really going to sell him off or will they just let him rot here?
He tries to talk to the cabin boy, but he doesn’t answer.
On the third night, when the door opens, Castiel doesn’t bother to look who it is. He’s staring into the ceiling, lost in daydreams. He expects a clank of a water jug and a bowl with something tasteless and then the thud of the door being shut. When none of it comes, he lazily rolls his head to the side and sees the ship’s new captain standing there, staring at him with intense green eyes.
Something flutters in Castiel’s chest as he sits up and Dean walks closer. With eyes still fixed on Castiel, he unbuckles his belt. Maybe it’s supposed to be intimidating, but Castiel doesn’t show fear. He just stares back, which makes Dean waver, the floorboard creaks as he shifts his weight.
It’s Dean who averts his eyes first as he kneels on the bunk and grabs Castiel’s shoulder pushing him down.
This time Castiel doesn’t yield.
"No," he says calm, but firm as he resists Dean’s pressure.
Shock and anger flick over Dean’s face, but before he resolves to use violence against him, Castiel grabs the front of his shirt and yanks him closer.
The pirate gasps against his lips, but then he kisses him back.
Castiel was never kissed like this. It’s hungry, messy and overwhelming.
When they part, Dean’s eyes are wide and dark.
"What are you doing, rich boy?" he whispers like he’s out of breath.
"My name is Castiel," he growls climbing in Dean’s lap.
"Cas!" the pirate moans when Castiel rolls his hips and his hard flesh rubs against the bulge in Dean’s pants.
They kiss again and without breaking apart, hands groping, reposition on the narrow bed so that Dean is lying with Castiel on top of him.
Castiel reaches into Dean’s pants to wrap his hand around him, he feels Dean’s hands slide under his shirt, fingers digging into skin.
"I don’t know what we’re doing," Dean says on an exhale and he looks so unsure, so soft and vulnerable that Castiel has a hard time believing it’s the same man who abducts whole ships without batting an eye.
He smiles softly down at him and brushes his lips against the shell of his ear as he answers softly:
"Don’t worry, I do."
A few days later Castiel finds himself lying in the wide bed in his old cabin.
Castiel’s head is resting on Dean’s rapidly rising and falling chest. Dean’s fingers are raking through Castiel’s sweat-damp hair.
He keeps wondering how he ended up there. He didn´t welcome Dean in his bed to get out of his captivity. He did it because if there was something ment to happen between the two of them, he refused to be a victim. He refused to let Dean do something he would regret. And of course he was undeniably attracted to the ruthless pirate. He also liked what seeped through the rough facade when the door was closed. He couldn´t resist Dean despite his better judgment and the more he knew the man, the more attached he grew.
"Tomorrow we arrive to a port and I’ll send the letter to your father."
The softly spoken words make Castiel’s heart clench. He looks at Dean, his eyes pleading.
"Please, don’t."
Dean blinks at him in surprise. "What? You don’t want to return home?"
"The life that awaits me back home is nothing but hell for me. I’d rather if you send my father a note that his son is dead."
"And what would you do then?" Dean asks, brows drawn together in a frown.
Castiel bites his lower lip.
"I’d like to stay here." When he sees Dean’s shocked expression, he sits up.
"Only if you’ll have me, of course!" he adds hurriedly.
"But I can be useful. I know a lot about tactics and I know ships. I lack experience, but I can learn, I promise I won’t be a burden!"
Dean shakes his head and starts running his palm up and down Castiel’s arm in a soothing motion.
"Of course not, but Cas, are you sure you want to become a criminal?"
Castiel hesitates. He isn’t sure he could kill a man over gold. On the other hand if he stays he might be able to stop Dean from unnecessary violence, to convince him there are other ways.
He lets out a breath and nods resolutely.
"I want to stay with you."
For a moment he’s scared by the weight of his own words, but then he notices the grin spreading over the pirate’s pretty face.
Dean pulls him down into a hug and kisses his temple.
"Hmm, but I don’t know if I want you to stay," he says teasingly.
"My crew might start to rebel if they find out what I let you do to me."
Castiel huffs out a laugher.
"I’m afraid they already know, Dean, since you tend to be very vocal."
He feels a surge of pride at the fact he can make the fierce pirate captain blush deep red.
Smiling, Dean climbs on top of him, grabbing his hands and pinning them to the bed.
His eyes twinkle wickedly as he looks him in the face. "You should know one thing about pirates."
He leans down and nibbles at Castiel’s jaw, before he continues. "We’re very vengeful."
He kisses Castiel’s sternum, then bite down on his nipple, making the other man squirm.
"It’s my turn to make you scream. And I swear every fish in all seven seas will know what I do to you."
A year ago when Dean first saw Castiel, he was pretty in his expensive clothes, but he was like a statue made of marble. His face was expressionless, only his eyes were burning with fear, anger, and defiance. His skin was pale, his body strong and graceful, yet he was fragile, not hardened by life.
Today he’s dazzling. His sun kissed skin shining as he grins at Dean. His clothes aren’t as well-fitting as they used to be, he’s wearing mismatched pieces thrown together because he likes them and not because fashion dictates him to wear them. His wild hair is kept off his forehead by a bandana headband and there’s bunch of colorful feathers dangling from his ear.
He’s the most precious gem Dean has ever stolen.
When he said he was going to stay, Dean didn’t believe him. He thought he would get tired soon and run away in the first port, he was a rich boy after all, not used to Dean’s life style.
But every day proved that there was more in Castiel than could be seen. He was a quick learner, not scared of hard work even though his body protested at first. Dean tended to his chapped skin and strained muscles cherishing every day Castiel stayed, afraid of every time they landed that Cas would leave him. Because he was going to leave, like everybody Dean had ever had feelings for had left.
It took him a few months to realize Castiel was determined to stay in Dean´s life just as much as he to become a pirate.
And what a pirate he has become! He is ruthless when defending his life and the lives of the crew, but he shows mercy whenever he can. He taught Dean to ask questions first, strike later.
And like a magpie he found unaffected pleasure in stealing. As Dean walks to him and wraps his arms around his lover’s waist, he remembers Castiel’s smile when he took the emerald brooch he’s wearing on his waist coat from an old lady. It was his favorite booty, he said it reminded him of Dean’s eyes.
Dean leans in and presses a kiss to Castiel’s lips, making the other man hum in contentment.
Dean was wrong. The most treasured thing Castiel ever stolen was Dean’s heart.