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Castiel steps outside into the frigid almost twenty-below weather and immediately hurries towards the promise of a warm, pre-heated car, thanks to his remote start. He frowns when he sees there’s still snow on the windshield, but thankfully it’s not much. He grabs the snow brush from the passenger seat to deal with that, then climbs into the driver’s seat once he's done and is immediately struck by the peculiar silence in the car.

He puts the key in the ignition, checks that everything is running, and that’s when it occurs to him that the heat isn’t on. Well, it’s on—full blast, actually—it’s just not working. He turns the dial, changing the fan speed from low to high and back again, but still nothing. 

Happy Friday to him.

Groaning miserably, he texts his co-worker to let him know he'll be late since he has to bring his car into the dealership, and then he calls the dealership to explain the situation. They tell him to bring his car in and they’ll take a look at it to see what’s wrong, so after stopping for his morning drive-thru coffee, he heads directly there. With any luck, he’ll be able to drop his car off and get a ride to work before his boss shows up around nine o’clock as usual.

He walks into the service department feeling frozen to the bone and explains what happened all over again to a second person. Once he’s signed the paperwork authorizing the dealership to check out the problem, the man behind the desk asks, “I take it you need to go into work this morning?”

“Yes, please.”

“Our driver’s out right now, but just take a seat in the lobby and he’ll come get you as soon as he’s back. You should be at work in no time.”

Castiel nods, swallowing down the urge to ask what secondary gender the driver is. He’s big for an omega, and with his deep voice and the scent blockers he applies liberally every morning, he knows he can at least pass for a beta if not an alpha. Still, it's best not to draw attention to himself by asking.

“Thank you,” he replies. 

He turns and wanders down a hall that he assumes leads to the lounge, choosing a seat in the corner of the room as far away from the only other person in there as possible. It’s not that he’s anti-social, it’s just that he isn’t a morning person at all, and considering his car isn’t operating properly and he hasn’t had his morning coffee yet, he feels like he’s entitled to avoid useless small talk.

He drinks from his coffee and texts his co-worker, letting him know he’s just waiting for a ride back to the office and then he’ll be in. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to wait long. He’s only about a quarter of the way through his coffee when a startlingly handsome man pokes his head into the lounge.

“You waiting for a ride?”

The man’s voice is low but smooth, like honey over rocks, and Castiel has to take another sip of coffee just to moisten his suddenly bone-dry throat before he can reply. “Yes, thank you.”

The man smiles, showcasing a row of straight, white teeth surrounded by full, dark pink lips, and Castiel’s glad the man turns to lead the way so that he has a second to clear his brain. Unfortunately, the broad set of the driver’s shoulders are distracting enough that he has to drop his gaze before he trips over his own feet, but that only draws his attention to the rather attractive bow of the man’s legs. 

They walk down the hallway in silence, but once they reach the exit, the man holds the door open for him to walk through and Castiel blushes like a virgin as he thanks him again. He hesitates when he sees there are four vehicles already waiting within a few feet of the door, but the man says, “The white one’s me. Let me get the door for you.”

Figuring it’s all part of the service, Castiel allows the driver to pull open the door, and then he attempts to make eye contact so that he can nod his thanks. But because of the natural light outside, he gets an eyeful of grass-green eyes and freckles scattered over this man’s cheeks and nose instead, and promptly forgets everything but what he’s currently looking at.

This man’s a sum of contradictions. He’s tall and broad like an alpha, but his full lips and long, curled lashes add an almost feminine delicacy to his appearance that’s breathtaking when put together. It’s on the tip of his tongue to ask if he’s alpha or omega, but he realizes just in time how incredibly rude that would be, so instead, he ducks his head and steps into the car. 

The moment the door closes, the alpha’s scent hits him like a brick wall. It’s everywhere. Clinging to the interior, sunk into the seats, and being recycled through the heating vents and blown out into his face. It gets even worse when the man gets into the driver’s side, and suddenly it’s taking every bit of control he possesses to clench his ass cheeks together to stop himself from leaking into his boxers. 

Because this isn’t just any old alpha scent. No, this scent may very well be the best thing he’s ever had the pleasure of smelling. It’s pure, seductive masculinity, making him think of leather and smoke, but with a distinct, tantalizing lightness that incites the urge to bury his nose in this man’s scent gland and never breathe another scent for another second for as long as he lives. It’s concentrated because of the small space they’re in, but even as strong as it is, it’s fresh and warm instead of cloying or abrasive. 

“Where to?” 

Of course the man’s tone is every bit as enticing as his scent, and so it’s no wonder that Castiel’s reply has his voice coming out like cement going through a grinder. “Main Street West, across from City Hall.” He really needs to focus on breathing through his mouth before he embarrasses himself and slicks onto this man’s seat.

“Where do you work down there?” the man wonders.

Oh, good. This is a dry enough conversation that it should have his libido calming down almost instantly. “I’m a portfolio manager for the Shirley Group.”

“Huh,” the man responds. “So what kinda things do you do?”

Castiel shrugs a shoulder, knowing how boring most people find this kind of thing. “Investments, financial planning, trades, stocks, that kind of thing.”

“Oh, okay.” He says it in such a way that lets him know this man has no idea what he’s talking about. “Do you like it?”

“I do, actually,” Castiel admits. “Every client is different, with different needs, income levels, and willingness for risks, so that means no two days are the same.”

“That makes a huge difference,” the man agrees. “Obviously not the same kind of work, but I do a lot of different stuff for the dealership, too.”

“Not just a driver?” Castiel asks.

“No,” the man chuckles. “My official title is Parts Assistant, but there’s only so many parts you can find, right? So I help out with the driving when that’s busy, too. Works well because I love bein’ behind the wheel, and I like to mix things up when I can.”

Castiel nods, unsure what to say to that in order to keep the conversation going. To make himself feel less awkward, he takes a drink from his coffee. 

“So having some work done on your car, huh?” the man asks next.

Castiel glances over at him, about to ask what part of these circumstances hasn’t already made that obvious, when he sees the blush spreading along the back of the alpha’s neck. It’s almost like he’s embarrassed by the question, and just like that, Castiel softens towards the man for coming up with something to say when he couldn’t.

“Heater stopped working this morning.”

The man winces. “Hell of a day for it.”

“Happy Friday to me,” Castiel says sarcastically.

“Hey, it could be worse. It could be a Monday.”

Castiel huffs out a laugh. “That’s true.”

They come to a stop at a red light, and the man casts a tentative smile in his direction that makes his heart stop. “I’m, uh, Dean by the way.”


Yes, he likes that.

“Hello, Dean. I’m Castiel.”

“Castiel?” Dean asks, his eyes widening slightly. “Might need you to write that one down for me.”

Although he’s heard every possible variation of people commenting on his unique name, his lips twitch at Dean’s. “Cas is fine.”

“Well, Cas, big plans this weekend?”

Castiel shakes his head. “No. I guess you could say I’m kind of a homebody.”

“Same,” Dean replies, surprising him. “My wild weekends are a couple years behind me now. Though I actually spent a lot of ‘em right there,” Dean says, pointing just down the block from Castiel’s office. “Used to be Wylder’s back in the day, you remember that?” 

Castiel nods, knowing it was changed to a restaurant about ten years ago. “It was before I was 21 though, so I’ve only known it as a restaurant.”

“Oh come on, now you’re making me feel old!”

Castiel chuckles quietly as they approach another set of lights. “You can turn left at this light here.”

“I used to park in here, y’know,” Dean says, signalling for the turn. “One of the only places downtown that always had an empty lot at night and had free parking.” Dean sighs happily. “You’re making me reminisce, man.”

“You’ll have to have a beer tonight for old times sake,” Castiel suggests.

“That ain’t a bad idea,” Dean says. “I’d, uh, think about asking you to join me, but that probably isn’t smart, huh?”

His tongue suddenly feels like it’s much too large for his mouth. Surely this gorgeous man isn’t asking him out? “W-why’s that?”

Dean hesitates in answering him for long enough that Castiel looks over at him again, seeing that his cheeks are now the same shade of red as the back of his neck. “You’re... close, right?”

Castiel blinks at him in confusion. He has no idea what Dean’s talking about. “Close?”

“To, y’know, your heat? Not bad timing with a weekend coming up, but I, uh...” Dean hesitates again, and because he’s still looking at him, he can see the way his nostrils flare as he surreptitiously tries to take in Castiel’s scent. “I can smell it on you a little.”

Castiel can’t help but snort out a laugh as Dean pulls into the parking lot, because not only is it beyond rude to comment on that, he’s dead wrong. “You might want to get your nose checked out. I’m nowhere near my heat, and in case you were somehow blissfully unaware, alpha, it’s not considered polite to comment on something like that even if I was.”

The second the words are out of his mouth, he regrets them. He has a smart mouth that would’ve gotten him in a lot of trouble over the years if he wasn’t as large as he is. He has no idea how Dean will react to being spoken to like that from an omega, and the last thing he needs to top off an already shitty morning is getting into a shouting match with an alpha.

“Shit, no,” Dean says quickly, surprising him. “Sorry. I wasn’t trying to be rude. I was just tryin’ to say that I’d ask you out if I thought it was safe to take you somewhere tonight.” Once Dean puts the car into park, he shifts in his seat a little bit, and just that causes another waft of his intensely masculine scent to hit him. He can feel his body reacting to the proximity of the alpha and his delicious scent, and he shifts in his seat now, too, trying not to look as awkwardly aroused as he feels. “But you’re honestly telling me you smell this good all the time?”

“I... guess so?” he replies, feeling backed into a corner with no other way to answer that. He’s wearing blockers, so there’s no way Dean should be smelling anything at all. Maybe it isn’t actually his scent that Dean’s smelling, but something else entirely.

“Jesus,” Dean breathes. But then Dean flashes a searingly hot smile that lands like a direct hit to the chest, and asks, “So, do you wanna go out with me tonight? Have a couple of beers? Get to know each other better?”

“I—” He does. He really, really does. But his head is fuzzy enough from the alpha’s scent that he isn't totally sure his decision should be trusted right now. “I don’t know. Your scent—it’s really distracting,” he admits. “I can’t think straight.”

Dean licks his lips, leaving them shiny and moist, and Castiel can feel heat prickling at the back of his neck. His gaze flicks up to Dean’s searchingly, seeing how much darker his eyes are now than they were outside, and when Dean’s eyes meet his, the already charged air between them seems to explode with chemistry. He squirms self consciously, knowing that he’s going to have damp boxers for the rest of the day if he doesn’t get out of the car in the next thirty seconds but still feeling a confusing reluctance to leave this alpha’s side.

Dean clears his throat and breaks eye contact to reach into the space between them. He grabs a business card and a pen from the visor over his head and scribbles something on the back. One arm reaches around the back of Castiel’s seat to rest there confidently while the other offers Castiel the card. “In case you get outta here and realize you can’t live without me, you can text or call me anytime, darlin’.”

Because there’s laughter dancing in Dean’s eyes, Castiel breathes through a laugh of his own and takes the card. “I wouldn’t hold your breath on the former,” Castiel teases, then he gives into the urge to bite down on his bottom lip as he drags his eyes up and down the alluring shape of Dean’s body. “But maybe for the text.”

Dean’s smile grows, and the hand behind his seat twitches before he asks, “Can I?” 

Castiel has a good idea what he’s asking, and though it’s ridiculous and juvenile, he blushes when he nods. Sure enough, he feels Dean’s fingers brush gently along his neck just above the collar of his dress shirt, placing what Castiel knows will be a subtle but undeniable scent claim on him, and before he can do something else foolish like lean across and rub his face along Dean’s neck, he opens the door and steps out of the car.

“I’m gonna be insulted if you need a ride back and don’t ask for me, by the way,” Dean calls out. 

The fresh air clears his head, but he finds he’s no less attracted to the alpha without his scent drawing him in. “Noted,” he says with a smile, and then he closes his door and walks into his office, thinking that his morning didn't turn out all that bad after all.

He has a dozen emails waiting for him by the time he settles in at his desk, so he starts going through them to prioritize what he needs to do and what he can pass on to have his assistant take care of. His ten o’clock meeting goes smoothly, but he feels increasingly warm as it goes on and he has to excuse himself momentarily to turn the heat down. He eats a salad that he has absolutely no interest in at his desk while he works through his lunch hour, trying not to fidget with the sleeves of his dress shirt that are rolled up to his elbows. It’s a shirt he’s only worn a couple of times, but he definitely doesn’t remember the fabric feeling so rough against his skin. If it was like this the last time, he’s sure he would have thrown it in the trash (the way he wants to now) rather than keeping it to torture himself with another day. 

His cell phone rings around two-thirty, and the man who helped him at the service desk at the car dealership this morning tells him he has a faulty blower motor, and unfortunately, they don’t have the part in stock. He’s ordered it in, but he won’t get it in until at least Monday, more likely Tuesday, so because of the extended warranty Castiel has on his car, the dealership has set him up with a rental free of charge. 

“Do you need the courtesy shuttle?”

“Yes. I’m done for the day at 4:30.” Remembering what Dean said earlier, he asks, “Is Dean still working? He said I should ask for him again.”

“Oh, no, he’s done at four today.” It isn’t until he feels his heart sink like a stone that he realizes how much he was looking forward to the possibility of seeing him again. “We’ve got Ash on to finish off until eight o'clock, though, and he’d be happy to give you a ride.”

“Um.” Now that he’s thought about seeing Dean, it’s the only thing he seems to be able to focus on. He won’t see Dean if he accepts a ride from this Ash person, and he does have Dean’s number. Maybe Dean wouldn’t mind giving him a ride in his free time? “I’ll call you back if I do need a ride.”

“No problem. Have a good day.”

He feels foolish when he fishes out the business card, holding it up in front of his face with two fingers and trying to decide if he’s really going to do this or not, when he gets what’s probably a phantom whiff of Dean’s scent. He feels a sharp tug inside of him so powerful it’s almost like the decision is made for him, even though he’s the one who taps the messaging app on his phone.

He doesn’t think about it anymore, instead, his fingers fly over the keyboard, entering Dean’s number and typing out a message while distinctly ignoring the way he can feel his forehead growing damp with sweat.

CASTIEL: Hello, Dean. This is Castiel.

Dean answers almost instantly, immediately calming Castiel’s nerves.

DEAN: That is so not how I would have spelled that lol Hey Cas. Miss me already?
CASTIEL: Something like that. I need a ride to Enterprise but I was told you’re not at work anymore :(
DEAN: No need to pout, I’m at your service. What time do you want me?
CASTIEL: Are you free around 4:30? Same place you dropped me off?
DEAN: I’ll clear my schedule for you, omega ;) See you soon.
CASTIEL: Thank you, Dean.

He is positively dripping with sweat now, and he makes a quick trip to the bathroom to mop up his forehead and make himself more presentable. He must be coming down with something, because he’s felt worse and worse as the day’s gone on. If he hadn’t just gone through his heat less than a month ago, he would think that’s what it was, but it’s impossible to be affected again this quickly, and frankly, the only thing not dripping this afternoon has been his ass. 

He feels marginally better by the time he’s cleaned himself up and gets back to work, and before he even realizes the time has passed, his co-worker is tidying up, marking the end of the work day. He finishes up what he’s in the middle of and closes his computer, checks the front door is locked, and bids his boss goodbye for the weekend. 

He keeps his coat bundled in his arms as he steps outside into the cold, still warm enough that he’s not interested in adding a layer right now. In fact, he loosens his tie and pops a couple of buttons, too, groaning at the sweet relief he feels as the frigid air hits his bare skin. He feels almost normal for the first time in hours, and with his head finally clear, he looks around for Dean, wondering what he’s driving now that he isn’t in the company car. 

He hears a monstrously loud engine rev and wrinkles his nose in distaste, which is when the window starts to roll down and he sees Dean behind the wheel of a truly massive, classic-looking black car. 

Dean looks like he knows exactly how hard Castiel has to try to hold back his eye roll at the stereotypical alpha behavior, but Dean grins anyways and says, “Heyya, Cas.”

Castiel shakes his head fondly and walks over, wondering what in the world he’s doing getting tangled up with a cocky, trouble-making alpha like Dean. He braces himself before he pulls the door open, but even knowing what he’s about to walk into, Dean’s scent knocks the wind out of him before he’s even fully seated. He thought the car Dean was driving earlier smelled like him, but it was absolutely nothing compared to this. Dean very clearly either spends a lot of time in this car or has had this car for a really long time, because it’s so saturated in his scent it’s like all of his other senses completely leave him.

All he can smell, taste, see, and feel is Dean. Dean’s seductively masculine scent, the delicious, light smokiness that makes his head spin and his skin itch and oh god, he’s starting to slick? Now?

“Cas? Castiel?”

When he opens his eyes (when did he close them?) he can see that Dean’s pulled out of the parking lot and onto the street, and all it takes is one look at the confident, self-assured way Dean changes lanes to have him sliding across the seat and burying his face in the crook of his neck.

A shiver wracks him from head to toe, and he groans pathetically as the first trickle of slick escapes him. 

“Wha—?” Dean gasps nervously. “W-whoa there, Cas. Not that I’m complaining, but wh-what the hell’re you doing?”

“I don’t know,” Castiel says, dragging his nose up the long column of Dean’s neck and inhaling the arousing alpha scent coming off of him. “I don’t know, but I don’t want to stop.”

“Listen, I am so fucking on board, but I’m driving here.”

Knowing for sure now that Dean is interested in him—that Dean isn’t put off or disgusted by a handsy omega he doesn’t even know—only somehow turns him on more. He can feel his ass cheeks getting slippery, and he knows it’s only a matter of moments before Dean will be able to smell the slick on him.

“So pull over,” he suggests, letting his hand fall onto Dean’s broad chest. 

“Cas, you’re—” He can feel Dean tense, hear the deep breath he inhales and the low, ridiculously sexy growl he lets free. “Jesus christ. I can smell you. You smell so sweet, fuck.”

Castiel whines, already impatient with the fact that he doesn’t have anything inside of him the way it’s supposed to be when he's in heat and he and Dean are in the same space. “Why—haven’t you—pulled over yet?”

“Cas, you can’t be—” Castiel chooses that moment to open his mouth and start a blazing trail down Dean’s neck, inching towards his scent gland and circling it with his tongue once he locates the single most potent square inch on the alpha's body. “Oh-kaaay, you’re serious. We’re doing this. Okay. Okay, okay, okay,” Dean babbles.

Castiel’s momentarily distracted by the added heat to Dean’s smoky scent, letting him know Dean’s almost as aroused as he is, and that must be why he doesn’t realize they’ve pulled over until the car comes to a sudden stop. He doesn’t even bother to look and see where they’ve parked before he wraps a hand around the back of Dean’s neck and pulls him in for a hard, passionate kiss.

There’s a low growl rumbling in Dean’s throat when he licks his way into Castiel’s mouth, and Castiel opens for him eagerly, thrusting his tongue out and delighting in the way Dean wrests back control of the kiss between one second and the next. He’ll never be the type of omega to bend to the will of an alpha (or anybody) just because he’s “supposed to”, but that doesn’t mean he can’t appreciate one who knows his way around the bedroom.

Or the front seat of the car. 


It’s hard to care when Dean tastes like heaven and smells like sin, and he kisses adeptly enough that Castiel genuinely whines when Dean breaks the seal of their lips. But only until he feels Dean’s mouth, hot and wet, kissing along the side of his face and down to his neck. The very first nibble to his scent gland has him so wet so fast the scent of his slick overpowers even Dean’s burning scent.

“Fuck,” Dean curses against his neck, tearing blindly at Castiel’s belt until it comes undone, then immediately starting in on his fly. “I knew it. I knew you were in heat. Fuckin’ smelled you the second we got in the car. My knot’s been swollen all damn day thinkin’ about it. About you, omega.”

He arches his back uselessly, instinctively trying to present even though he’s sitting down and facing the wrong way, unintentionally finding some friction for his aching cock against Dean’s arm or hand or some part of his body that causes sparks to shoot up and down his spine. Dean gets Castiel’s fly down and says, “On your hands and knees, Cas. I gotta see if you taste as good as you smell before I lose my fucking mind.”

Castiel is already scrambling into position before Dean’s finished talking, and the second he’s on his knees, Dean’s yanking down his pants and burying his face between his ass cheeks, kissing and licking at everything he can reach. Big hands part his cheeks, another growl drowns out the sound of classic rock filling the car, and Castiel feels the first broad swipe of Dean’s tongue along his hole. 

“Araugh!” he calls out, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “Dean, yes, more!”

Dean licks at him again, circling his hole and lapping at his slick, moaning like he’s gorging himself at a five-star buffet rather than eating ass. With his fingers digging into Castiel’s flesh and spreading his ass cheeks wide, Dean’s able to dive in deep once he finally goes directly for his opening, and the sensation of a tongue slipping inside of him along with the facial hair on Dean’s chin scraping along his flesh has Castiel reduced to nothing but pitiful, incoherent moans. He isn’t even thinking when he pushes his ass back further, forcing Dean’s tongue deeper and increasing the friction between his cheeks so close to where he’s already desperate for it, and it feels so unbelievably good that he starts grinding back against him. 

Dean makes a low, rumbling growl of approval he can feel vibrate against his skin, and a fresh wave of slick dribbles out from the sensation. Dean must be enjoying himself, because the smokiness of his scent grows hotter still—all campfire and warm leather now—and it’s the sweetest torture in the world because Dean smells and feels incredible, but Castiel's heat is a constant, persistent thrumming beneath his skin reminding him how much more he wants, how much more he needs.  

“Dean. Dean, please. I need—I need more.”

Dean points the tip of his tongue and tugs at his rim, pulling a harsh, desperate sound from Castiel’s throat he’s sure he’s never made before. Then Dean swirls his tongue around his opening, making his toes curl with the onslaught of pleasure before one cheek is released and two thick fingers slide deep inside of him completely without resistance. He can’t breathe through how good it feels, and Dean must feel the same because his voice sounds strangled when he says, “Jesus christ that’s good. Look at you taking my fingers like that. So fucking gorgeous opening up for me, Cas. Smell so fucking good, I swear to god, never—never smelled anything like you in my goddamn life.”

That’s great and all but he needs Dean to move this along now. “Dean—” But Dean’s a good alpha, and he’s already withdrawing his fingers and shoving them back in with just a hint of roughness that has another wordless sound pushed from his lips. “Mmmmph.” Dean obviously takes that as encouragement, because he goes faster, harder, picking up the pace each time his fingers push inside, and the very first time Dean curls those deft digits and hits his prostate like a bullseye, fireworks explode behind his eyelids as he comes completely untouched all over the leather seat.

He feels his hole clenching needily around Dean’s fingers and hears that deliciously sexy growl of Dean’s claw free again as he’s flipped onto his back like he’s weightless. He hears but doesn’t feel it when his head hits the window because he’s too busy trying to kick his pants off while Dean rips off his shoes, and between one second and the next, Dean’s alpha cock is free and jutting straight out, larger than life and already swollen at the base. He doesn’t even have a chance to think about just how good that’s going to feel filling him up before the significant length of Dean is rutting along Castiel’s ass crack to get coated in his slick. He whines just once, and then Dean’s blunt head is pressed against his opening and starting to push its way inside of him.

He tilts his head back, exposing his throat to the alpha about to claim him, and when Dean’s lips lock onto his scent gland as he spears inside of him in one fluid thrust, Castiel’s officially died and gone to heaven.

“J-jesus fuck, you feel good, Cas,” Dean stutters. “Nice and tight and so fuckin’ wet, just dripping for me.”

“Dean.” He’s dimly aware that he’s said that about a dozen times already, but the whole car reeks of aroused alpha, and with Dean’s strong body pinning him down, all of his senses are overwhelmed with him. The too-tight, pins-and-needles sensation under his skin is already starting to fade now that he has his alpha inside of him, and it helps to clear his head a little bit.

Dean’s breath is hot on his ear when he rumbles, “No, alpha.”

Goosebumps travel along his exposed skin at the commanding tone of Dean’s voice, and he realizes he likes the way that sounds coming from him. “Okay, alpha,” Castiel says, putting emphasis on the word just to get Dean going. “Show me what you can do.”

Dean snaps. His very first thrust has enough power behind it that Castiel’s head pushes back against the window, a sharp ache there reminding him that he hit it only a few minutes ago, but when he cries out, it’s all pleasure and no pain. He doesn’t even bother to try to brace himself for the next powerful thrust, instead, he claws at Dean’s back through his jacket and tries to pull him closer still. Dean snaps his hips a third time, sending an intense jolt of desire through him and straight to his already refilling cock. “Yes.” Dean starts to settle into a fast, unrelenting pace that appeases the heat still coursing through his veins. “Kiss me.”

Dean fuses their lips together in a claiming kiss that has his inner omega begging him to submit, but he throws himself more fully into it instead, sucking on Dean’s tongue and drawing a moan from the bigger man that lights a fire under him. With Dean thrusting into him over and over, their lips mash back together as they gracelessly push and pull at one another’s bodies, positioning one another to give and take as much pleasure as possible. Prying hands force him to tilt his hips up, and Dean groans into his now parted mouth as he plunges inside a little bit deeper, hitting places inside of him he didn’t even know existed until they lit up with more pleasure than he’s ever felt before. 

“You’re takin’ it so fucking good, Cas,” Dean breathes, his already low voice turning delightfully gritty. He drives into him nice and deep, circling his hips and grinding his cock inside of him. “Your sweet little hole’s so greedy for me, omega.”

Castiel nods frantically, his mouth hanging open with his harsh breaths as Dean’s cockhead rubs along his insides. “D-don’t stop. I need—I need your knot. Gimme your knot, alpha.”

Dean snarls as he pulls out so that only the fat head is tugging at his rim, and his lust-darkened eyes flash red for a split second before he slams himself back inside all at once. Dean does it again—pulls out almost entirely one more time and drives back in—before he starts a punishing pace of filling him perfectly over and over, exactly the way his heat needs it, craves it, is screaming for it. Hot lips blaze over his neck, a possessive hand palms at the globe of his ass to spread him open wider, and the slapping sound of Dean’s cock pistoning into him mixes with the low snarls escaping from his alpha.

He can feel Dean’s knot really starting to swell now, and it drives him wild with need, with anticipation. “Don’t stop,” Castiel urges him again. “I want your knot, alpha. Want it so fucking bad.”

“Fuck,” Dean curses. “Straight outta my dirtiest dreams, darlin’. Smell so fricking good, feel unbelievable. I’m gonna fill you up so fucking full you’re never—you’re never gonna be able to think about another alpha without remembering how good I fucked you.”

Castiel shakes his head at the very idea, gasping for breath when he feels Dean’s knot start to push at his rim. “Don’t want another alpha.”

Dean’s scent burns so hot he can’t breathe without aching for his knot, without needing more and more and more of him inside, each shaky inhale making him crazier and crazier, sending him into a frenzy as white-hot desire pierces through the haze of alpha arousal.

“Mine,” Dean snarls. 

His eyes scrunch up as he feels his second orgasm creeping up on him, his alpha’s pounding thrusts forcing his knot deeper and deeper each time. Knowing he’s only seconds away from getting what he needs is causing the most delicious anticipation to run through him, heating up more and more until it feels like his whole body is burning with lava running through his veins. “Dean, fuck.” Dean slams into him again, forcing a whine out of him. “Please, harder. So close. Knot me, knot me, knot me.”

One hand lands on his hip, guiding him to arch upwards even more to meet Dean’s next thrust. Dean’s nose is pressed snugly to his neck, switching between scenting him and whimpering against his skin, and latching on and marking him well enough that he knows he’ll have a lasting bruise for days. Nobody has ever fucked him like this, claimed him like this, and it’s incredible. Every nerve ending where his body is pressed against Dean’s feels like it’s alive with electricity. The thought has his hands pushing up Dean’s shirt and running over his soft skin, feeling the hard muscles along his back and the slight softness at his sides. 

His insides quake, his omega instincts telling him what a good alpha Dean will be, providing enough food for him to keep him well-nourished even though logically he knows he can do that himself. 

“Alpha,” he whines.

“God, yeah,” Dean says back. “Love the way that sounds coming from you.”

Castiel says it again, just to feel his big, strong alpha tremble in his arms. “Alpha.”

“Mmhmm. You fuckin’ love this, don't you?” Dean croons. “Me, so damn big and balls-deep inside of you.”

“Yes,” Castiel gasps, breathless with how true it is, with how right it feels to have Dean spouting dirty nonsense into his ear in the front of his car in a fucking parking lot where anybody could see them. “Yes.”

“You ready?” Dean asks pointlessly. He’s so wet he can hear Dean fucking him, can hear the dirty squelch of his alpha’s knot pushing a little bit deeper with each powerful thrust. “You're gonna take my knot as good as my cock, aren’t you, sweet omega?”

The very thought of that fat knot locking into place has two words he’s never uttered out loud in his life spilling from his lips breathlessly. “Knot me, knot me, breed me.”

If he thought Dean had been growling before, it’s nothing compared to this low, dangerously sexy snarl of a sound that has slick literally seeping out from around Dean’s cock. But then he’s left empty and aching because Dean pulls out and isn’t inside of him anymore. Intense pain from his unsatisfied heat pierces through him like a bullet, and his scent sours immediately.

“Shhh,” Dean soothes him. “I want to—you have no fuckin’ clue how much I want to, but you just reminded me I’m not wearing a condom.”

Castiel is so far beyond caring about a stupid fucking condom at this point that it’s his turn to growl. He gets one hand on his alpha’s chest and pushes, forcing Dean back into a seating position, and then he straddles him. He grabs a hold of Dean’s cock to steady it, and sinks down to his alpha’s knot in a single fluid downstroke that fills him entirely all at once.

“I—don’t care—about a condom,” Castiel growls. “You are mine.”

“Fuck,” Dean whispers hoarsely. His hands land on Castiel’s chest and he rips his shirt apart, sending buttons scattering as he pushes the fabric over his arms to leave him completely bare. Dean’s eyes are dark and wanting, sweeping up and down his newly exposed body with uncontained lust. “You’re gorgeous, Cas. So fucking gorgeous. And you want me—you want me to knot you without a condom? Are you sure?”

Castiel leans into bury his face in Dean’s neck, whining happily as he scents him and smells mate, slicking so much he imagines it’s running down Dean’s cock like glistening ribbons. Dean’s hands land on his hips, warm and big and squeezing tight, and Castiel is burning with the need to ride his knot until he comes over and over, filling him up with his alpha seed again and again. 

“Please,” he whimpers, just lucid enough to know he needs permission before he moves. “Please tell me it’s okay. Tell me you want—you want to.”

Dean’s campfire scent burns his insides like actual flames a split second before he thrusts up into him, sharp and fast and so fucking thick at the base now that Castiel’s jaw drops. “Yes,” Dean rasps. “Hell yes, I’ll knot you, omega. I’ll knot you and fill you up so fuckin’ good you’ll be—be round and—and so damn beautiful with my pups.”

Never in a million years did he think hearing an alpha talk about knocking him up would fill him with a burning need unlike anything he’s ever experienced, but with Dean, with his alpha, that’s what drives him to finally lift himself off of Dean’s lap and sink down again until he can feel Dean’s entire length filling him up. He braces himself on Dean’s strong shoulders, inwardly cursing the multiple layers Dean’s wearing as he starts to rock and grind his hips. 

“Oh shit that's good,” Dean says. “C’mon, Cas. Take it. Take my knot, sweetheart.”

Castiel nods, ready and willing to take it, to feel Dean fill him with load after load of alpha cum. He rises up and then slides back down on Dean’s dick, finding his rhythm and starting to rock on and off of him. He’s breathing hard, greedily inhaling the way their scents have mingled in the air and trying to keep it in his lungs for as long as he can before he breathes out again. Dean makes a quiet rumbling low in his chest before his big hands slip up Castiel’s sweaty back, and the next time he sinks down on Dean’s cock, he notices his strong alpha is helping to support his weight, helping him to be able to move faster, harder.

Castiel finds a satisfying rhythm for them both, Dean’s growl a constant rumble in his chest, moans slipping from his own lips with each and every downstroke. He straightens up and throws his head back, starting to ride his alpha’s cock with abandon now, blindly chasing his release with every rise and fall of his body. He feels hot all over, an itch under his skin relentlessly begging him to slam down all the way, to force Dean’s knot deep inside of him so they can lock together and satiate his heat.

“Cas, Cas,” Dean breathes. “I’m—I’m so f-fucking close. My knot—”

Castiel nods, because he can feel it. He can feel it swelling at the base, ballooning bigger and bigger, and the very next time he drops himself into Dean’s lap, he grinds down purposely. 

“Ah! Fuck, yes,” Dean gasps. 

He grinds a little harder every time he sinks down, loosening his rim more and more, feeling Dean’s knot start to catch now and driving himself even crazier with the white-hot anticipation. They’re both beyond words, driven to a place where only pleasure, their mixing scents, harsh breaths, and wrecked sounds exist. Castiel writhes in Dean’s lap, heat ripping through him from head-to-toe, seconds away from feeling Dean’s knot lock inside of him and coming all over his alpha, when Dean’s hands curl around his hip bones.

He has one blissful second to swoon over how big and perfect alpha’s hands feel on his bare skin before they dig into his flesh and several things happen all in a single second: Dean lifts him like he’s completely weightless, then thrusts up sharp and deep at the exact same time Dean yanks him down hard and fast, impaling him with his alpha cock and forcing his knot past Castiel’s rim. Dean’s knot swells, pops, and catches in rapid succession, and Castiel comes explosively.

Heat orgasms are always more intense, but this is something else entirely, and Castiel shouts so loudly his voice cracks, his whole body wracked with pleasure so powerful he feels like he’s going to shatter into a million pieces as he paints Dean’s shirt white with his release. Dean’s fingers applying bruising pressure on his hips ease up, and then he feels them in his sweaty hair, pulling him down for Dean to scent along his throat before Dean catches his lips in a surprisingly tender kiss. 

He moans through it, feeling Dean’s knot throbbing as he releases load after load of cum where it’s nestled inside of him, Castiel’s own cock twitching feebly as his orgasm continues to seep out of him bit by bit. Several minutes later when he can no longer breathe well enough to keep kissing his alpha, he drops his face into the crook of Dean’s neck, nuzzling into his scent gland and inhaling the smoky scent of sated alpha—of his mate, happy and satiated. 

He doesn’t move until Dean’s hands drift over his belly, and the idea of Dean planting a pup there has desire rushing through him all over again. He rocks down onto Dean’s knot, pushes upwards until Dean’s knot tugs at his rim, and clenches down around him. They moan in unison, and he feels pride swell in his chest as he milks a second orgasm from his mate. He’s already so full of cum he can feel some of it sneaking past Dean’s knot and pooling between his alpha’s legs, and knowing that Dean’s car will smell like the two of them together for ages after this has him smiling wearily. 

Dean's breathing hard and he sounds wrecked when he says, “I should probably warn you—that if you do that again—I might actually die.”

Castiel huffs out a tired bark of laughter. “Thought you were gonna fill me up with your pups, alpha?”

“Jesus christ,” Dean groans, caressing his stomach again. “Why is that so fucking hot?”

“Alpha instinct,” Castiel answers. Then, a few seconds later, “I used that against you to get you to do what I want earlier. I shouldn't have.”

Dean laughs dryly, his hands roaming up over Castiel’s back and shoulders now. “If you think for a second I wouldn’t be proud as a damn peacock to knock up a pretty, sweet-smelling omega like you, you got your head screwed on wrong.”

“We don’t even know each other.”

Of course, that doesn’t stop him from exposing his neck for Dean when his fingers slip back into his hair and guide his head back. He whimpers pathetically when Dean rubs his nose along the column of his throat. “We’re true mates.”

Castiel shudders just from hearing him Dean say it. “Yeah. You triggered my heat.” Dean hums lowly, like he’s proud of that, and he chuckles when Dean’s teeth nip at his neck. “Silly alpha.”

"Your silly alpha.”

“All mine now,” Castiel agrees smugly. “You could’ve bitten me, you know.”

“I wanted to,” Dean admits. “Just not when you were in heat.”

Castiel snorts out a laugh. “You can knock me up in heat, but not commit to forever? Typical alpha bullshit.”

Dean shakes his head slightly. “Why’d I get stuck with such a mouthy little omega?”

“Just lucky, I guess," Castiel answers, grinning around his reply.

It’s quiet for a couple of minutes while the two of them take turns scenting each other, layering claim after claim on the other. 

“Hey Cas?” Dean asks suddenly. 


“What the hell are we gonna do in a parking lot for another half hour while my knot goes down?”

It’s Castiel’s turn to scrape his teeth over Dean’s mating gland, delighting in the shiver and stuttering breath that pulls from his mate. “I suggest you rest, because I’m not done with you yet, alpha. My heat just started.”

“Think we can make it outta the front seat for round two?”

He has his doubts, but his response is forgotten as his alpha carefully maneuvers them so that Dean’s flat on his back. Castiel curls up on his chest with his face nestled into his alpha’s neck, his legs spread wide and tucked up on either side of him like a giant koala or something, and with Dean’s arms wrapped tightly around him and his happy scent filling the car, he falls into a deep sleep before he gets a chance to voice his reply.

Never in his wildest dreams did he think he would be so thankful for a broken heater in the dead of winter.