Chapter Text
It was quite a normal Thursday morning at the mall, which meant there were only a handful of people around. That suited Castiel well, since he had never been that keen on either shopping or crowds. He had a hard time understanding how one could wander aimlessly for hours, fiddling this and that, touching and picking, testing the weight of pans, pots, sheets or cantaloupes. It didn't seem to have any point. Usually, he tried to do his business as quickly and efficiently as possible, in and out, strictly abiding to his shopping list. This time it was going to be different, though, because he needed a new coat.
Buying clothes was possibly the dullest thing Castiel could imagine. Subjecting himself to nosey shop assistants, trying out different outfits just because, and getting all sweaty and annoyed in the changing room was a far cry from his idea of fun. Clothes were for covering and protection; they needed to be pragmatic and efficient. Why would he be interested in the latest fashion or seasonal trends or, God forbid, special outfits designed to enhance the charms of your gender designation? If he had to choose between practicality and fashion, he would pick practicality over looks anytime, designations be damned.
He wondered idly if he could overlook his lack of coat yet another week, but then decided to be reasonable. It was getting chilly and he really needed warmer clothes. Sighing, he entered the clothes shop, inwardly bracing himself. To his surprise, the shop assistant was a professional, no-nonsense woman who didn't pry his designation or try to offer him alpha-approved clothes. He wanted a coat so he asked for one, and was presented with a handful of overcoats: a deep blue woollen jacket (not a good color), a long, black coat (too long), and a beige trenchcoat that immediately looked pleasing. It was long but not too long, it had deep enough pockets, sleeves that covered his knuckles, the color was practical, and probably wouldn't show every little speck of dirt.
Happy with his purchase, he continued on to his groceries. He was in need of some basics, like tea, coffee, sugar, flour, vegetables, and probably some beef too. Once again, he grew irritated at the companies for producing family-sized packages and forgetting the ones who lived alone. Castiel was actually a pretty good cook, but there was no point cooking only for one. Sometimes he indulged himself with preparing a more complicated meal, but usually he didn't bother. Food was nourishment and fuel, something he needed to keep going. Like clothes and sleep: it was a necessity.
It didn't take him long to find everything he needed, because the shop was familiar and his list a short one. He was by the sugar/honey/artificial sweetener section debating internally whether to choose fair trade sugar or organic cane sugar, when it hit him: the scent. It was like browned sugar and raw cocoa, mixed with cinnamon and lavender and something Castiel couldn't define, but found irresistible delicious. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath as discreetly as possible, and his mouth watered. He had never scented anything even remotely so compelling, and he couldn't help but try and find the source.
He opened his eyes and peeked around. No-one in sight. Well, that was confusing. With a scent that powerful the omega it belonged to should have been near. He took couple of hesitant steps to look behind the shelf. It was an early morning, which was why there were only a handful of customers in the store, and none of them seemed like the obvious source of the scent. The people closest to him were a family of four: a father, a mother, and two sons. They were standing by the produce section, arguing heatedly over some seasonal vegetables, mother and younger son visibly on the winning side. It was a nicely domestic scene and Castiel would have happily kept looking, hadn’t that irritably tantalizing scent tickled his alpha brain.
As Castiel stared, the older boy turned slowly around to look at him. He was exceptionally beautiful with sand-colored hair, full lips, and emerald-green eyes. Castiel's eyes widened. There was no doubt he was the reason Castiel's head was spinning, his heart was hammering, and why he could barely stand on his shaking legs. The boy commented something to his parents and started walking towards Castiel, who was like a deer in headlights, hopelessly waiting for the crash.
The boy moved with an easy grace. He walked straight past Castiel who nearly stopped breathing when the boy's arm brushed his. It seemed like it was almost intentional, but he must have been wrong. Up close the boy's scent was even more intoxicating, and Castiel realized he was getting hard. Oh dear Lord, he was about to sport a massive boner in a grocery store in broad daylight for a twink of an omega. The boy was so young he must have presented just recently, so what was he — fourteen? Castiel nearly groaned. This was so, so, so wrong. He leaned his temple slightly against the shelf, closed his eyes, and clutched the handle of his shopping basket, trying to make his erection disappear by sheer force of will. It didn’t.
Someone tapped his shoulder. Castiel startled and turned around. It was him.
"So, whaddaya think?"
"Excuse me?" Castiel breathed.
"Raw or refined?" Asked the boy, holding a package of sugar in each hand, quirking an eyebrow at Castiel.
”I— I don't know. I think it's up to what you prefer," Castiel stammered. His mouth was dry and he had a hard time thinking straight. The boy's scent enveloped him in a musky cocoon and his pants were getting uncomfortably tight.
The boy smirked. "Oh, I know exactly what I prefer," he commented and kept a level eye on Castiel. "I think I prefer it raw," he said and winked.
To his horror, Castiel could feel his knot beginning to expand and the scent of his arousal starting to mingle in the air. The boy's nostrils flared minutely and he grinned.
Castiel dropped his groceries and ran.
"Dean, stop!!" A kid's voice rang through Castiel's open kitchen window. "Mo-om! Dean took my book and doesn’t give it back.”
"Stop whining, bitch. Come and get it — if you can…"
Oh, the house next door was sold then? It had been on the market for a while, but, for some reason, it wasn't very appealing to buyers despite its lush, if a bit overgrown garden. Castiel on the other hand thought the house was charming in its shabbiness. If he had been in a need of a bigger accommodation, he would have gladly purchased the building himself. As it was, he was more than happy with his small two-bedroom house. It was practical and efficient, and well suited for its single occupant.
"Dean, you're a jerk and an ass," the first voice complained. The notion was followed by bright laughter.
"Boys, language," a female voice chided. "Wouldn't want to give our new neighbors a bad first impression, right?”
Castiel could hear somewhat half-heartedly mumbled apologies and smiled. It would be nice to have some life in the neighborhood. He knew that not all people were that enthusiastic about kids moving in, but he didn't mind. It wasn't healthy if the population was too homogenic; a little diversity was refreshing. He finished washing the dishes, dried his hands in a kitchen towel, and walked out to welcome his new neighbors. He got a glimpse of two boys running behind the house to check out the yard, while the parents stayed in the front unloading a van parked in the driveway. The mother was quite pretty with blue eyes and wavy blond hair, the father being broad-shouldered and dark. The both looked up when they saw him approaching.
"Hello there," Castiel greeted. "Welcome to the neighborhood. I'm Castiel Novak, I live there, right next door,” he smiled, pointing back to his house.
The father straightened to his full height. An alpha, Castiel could smell, and a strong one.
"John Winchester," the alpha said with a deep voice and held out his hand to Castiel. "My wife Mary. Our boys ran behind the house to escape the unloading." The handshake was firm and evaluating, and Castiel felt he was assessed by John’s piercing stare.
"Nice to meet you, Castiel," Mary greeted. She had a friendly aura around her and her warm scent suited her demeanor well. Castiel instantly liked her.
"So, an unmated alpha living alone," John commented brusquely. "How come?”
Castiel shifted, feeling slightly uncomfortable, although he could sense John didn't mean to offend him. The question itself wasn't that uncommon and he had gotten used to it, but he was never very eager to offer the explanation, even though he wasn’t ashamed of himself.
"John!" Mary shushed, embarrassed. She turned to Castiel with an apologetic smile. "I'm sorry, he didn't mean to be rude. This all is just so new to us! Our eldest recently presented as an omega and it's been a whirlwind ever since. Who would have guessed having an omega pup would turn our lives around completely!”
Castiel nodded. That explained a lot about John's attitude and slightly aggressive posture. "No need to apologize, ma’am,” he reassured. ”I can understand why you are on your guard. As for my situation — yes, I am an alpha and I live alone. I've never been fortunate enough to acquire a life partner." He kept his explanation short as usual. His past was a need-to-know basis only and his new neighbors didn't need to know.
John gave him a level stare and, after a few seconds, grumbled, "Fair enough." He turned his head slightly and bellowed, "Boys! Show some manners and get your asses here ASAP!”
Mary rolled her eyes at her husband, but there was an affectionate air to it. Castiel stifled a smile and raised his brow at John’s language instead. It was quite obvious where the boys got their language from. It took a couple of more bellows from John to coax the boys from the backyard. Castiel was engaging in small talk with Mary about the location of the town library when he heard the sound of running. Castiel turned to greet the boys and his heart nearly stopped.
Shit. His new neighbor happened to be the tempting omega from the grocery store.
Castiel couldn't sleep. He tossed and turned in his bed, trying to find a way to get comfortable. But no matter what he did, he felt like he was followed by green eyes and surrounded by an alluring omega scent. He groaned in frustration. The afternoon with his new neighbors had gone by in a haze, with him trying desperately to act like a normal human being instead of a perv with a massive hard-on. In the midst of it, he had learned that the enticing omega's name was Dean and he was, in fact, fourteen years old. The younger son, Sam, was eleven and still unpresented, although all signs pointed at him to be a beta.
The Winchesters had been in shock when Dean had presented as an omega. They had fully expected him to turn out as alpha like his father and, therefore, his first heat had been a complete surprise. They had been even more surprised when they had been visited by a representative of The Omega Internal Affairs Association. Dean was the first Winchester omega in generations, and his parents had no idea what to expect. They had been dumbfounded to find out that the OIAA would supply them a monthly allowance to ensure that Dean's education and expenses were met, as well as a hearty sum of cash to purchase a steady home for their family. After years in shabby rentals and trailers, Mary and John had been overjoyed to finally have a chance to offer their boys a house of their own.
It was only understandable that John would be extremely dubious of every alpha near his son. In a society run by omegas, he was in a challenging spot both as a father and a guardian of one. Omegas were crucial for reproduction since it was growing harder and harder for females to carry and deliver a full-term, healthy child. In fact, it was really a miracle that the Winchesters had two healthy sons. In order to ensure the survival of the fittest, omegas were offered full health care services and all alphas were meticulously screened and tested for mating to guarantee the best genetic combinations. In theory, alphas had the freedom to choose any mate they wanted, but in reality they had to apply for a mating permission from the OIAA if they wanted an omega, even if the omega in question was willing. Mating with betas wasn't as controlled, and since bonds between betas and omegas were nearly unheard-of, no proper protocol was ever created.
When Castiel had told John he hadn't had the fortune to acquire a life partner, he had been telling the truth. It wasn't the whole truth, though. His physical health was not exceptional but good enough, and his genetic tests were all clear. The problem was the analysis of his mental health and alpha-abilities. Alphas were presumed to express certain character traits, and Castiel had failed that spectacularly. He had no territorial traits, he wasn't particularly competitive, and he hadn't strived for a well-paid and respected job. He had never prided himself as traditional, aggressive and posturing alpha, which had seemed to be a serious offense in the eyes of the OIAA. Apart from his knot and scent, he was practically a beta — like he had been told, repeatedly. He didn't humor himself by dwelling on the less pleasing names he had been called over the years. On top of that, there was that unfortunate activism phase some twenty years back. Marching for PETA and environmentally sustainable fuel wasn't that appealing in an alpha curriculum.
All in all, an omega was way beyond Castiel's hopes. To his utter mortification his body didn't agree. All it had needed was a whiff of Dean as he had run to the Winchester driveway, and Castiel had been sporting a quite respectable erection in his pants. Dean had stared at him with his green eyes, a small smile playing on his lips, and Castiel had gotten very busy thinking about his nanny naked so as to not ravish the boy right there.
He still couldn't fully understand how he had made it through. He had agreed to help the Winchesters to move in, carrying their neatly labeled cardboard boxes to their appointed destinations. John had stayed suspicious while Mary and Sam had chatted away, with Dean being seemingly demure, but betraying he was faking with well-timed winks that left Castiel flustered. There had been more than few uncomfortable moments in the stairway, when Dean had asked Castiel to carry boxes to his room and then had given him an outright obscene display of his swaying hips when he had climbed the steps to show the way. Castiel had blamed the heavy boxes for his red face.
Somewhere along the way, Castiel had told the Winchesters that he spent the majority of his time at home since he was a translator of old biblical scripts, which had earned him a raised brow and a snort from John. Sam, however, had been thrilled. He had practically begged his parents for permission to visit Castiel as soon as possible to check out the volumes Castiel had. Dean had rolled his eyes at his nerdy brother, but he had later given Castiel a calculating look that had made him very nervous.
Castiel could tell the family had been interested in why he was unmated, but they hadn’t inquired after it, for which he was grateful. It had been over a decade ago when he had requested the permission to mate an omega, and the ruthless letter of rejection still stung. He had gradually accepted his solitude and was quite content with it. But now he found himself wondering — and almost immediately stomped the feelings down. He was far too old, and Dean was way, way too young from every perspective, even if Castiel was formally accepted as an agreeable mate.
Unfortunately, this happened to be the moment when his alpha brain decided to take over.
He awoke when he came in his pajamas like a horny teenager, with his knot throbbing and his cock pulsing in sync with his heart. His head was filled with images of a young omega, flashing green eyes, and a limb body bent in half, with Castiel pounding him to the mattress with abandon. Castiel groaned and buried his head in his pillow. God, he was almost forty and he was completely gone for an omega who wasn't even remotely legal. He was so screwed — Dean was young enough to be his son, for crying out loud! But still he couldn't help it: his body had obviously decided he was compatible with the boy and was forcing the biological responses through with considerable force.
He decided to wait it out and, in the meantime, just avoid Dean. He felt like a stalker of the first degree when he started to monitor the comings and goings of the Winchester family, and especially Dean. He also felt like an idiot since the family was quite nice and he would've gladly spent more time with them. But he couldn't risk it with his alpha hormones going haywire over Dean's proximity. So he was careful and never went out if he saw them — in fact, he avoided even lifting the curtains to steal a peek at Dean, no matter how tempted he felt.
His resolve lasted whole two weeks.
By then he was almost literally climbing the walls. Resigned, he decided to leave the security of his home for a brief visit to his favorite tea shop. He grabbed his bag and keys and opened the door to see Mary Winchester.
"Hello, Castiel!" She greeted, smiling happily. "We haven't seen you for a while and, well, we were getting worried.”
Castiel was a bit taken aback. Why would they worry about him? "Um. I was ill. Stomach flu," he lied, not very fluently.
Mary didn't seem to mind, though. She was a little flustered and obviously wanted to ask something.
"Can I help you?" Castiel inquired. "You are standing on my porch, after all.”
Mary huffed a laugh. "Well... you remember the day we moved in?" As if Castiel could forget. ”Sam's been pestering me about possibly visiting you to check out the books you have. I was wondering if he could come over this Saturday, if you are available? Just for an hour or two, and you’d be free to kick him out any time. He's very interested, smart, and knows how to behave himself. He's already impressed his new teachers and absorbs new things like a sponge.”
Castiel was oddly touched. He knew his work had an audience, but no one had shown any interest in his limited library before. He smiled and told Mary that Sam would be most welcome, and was free to stay as long as he wanted.
Of course, he should've known Sam wouldn't come alone. The minute he opened the door to Sam and Dean, he knew he was in trouble. Sam bounced in like a rabbit on hyperdrive, while Dean sauntered behind him with a cocked eyebrow and small grin. As Dean passed him, Castiel took an involuntary, deep breath and was instantly dizzy with Dean's scent. This was going to be uncomfortable.
It was the most delightfully awful two hours of his life so far. Sam was adorably enthusiastic about every volume Castiel had and flooded him with endless questions of biblical lore. Castiel was genuinely pleased to answer and soon realized he was enjoying Sam's company a great deal. Meanwhile, Dean wandered around picking idly things and putting them down, checking out the kitchen and living room, backyard, and, as Castiel would later find out, his bedroom.
When the predetermined two hours were up, the doorbell rang to announce Mary's return to collect her sons. Castiel invited her in to have some tea in the kitchen and they ended up sitting at the table and chatting idly as the boys continued hauling through Castiel's library. Mary told him more about their 'pre-Dean sad little life,' as she humorously called it, and tried to pry info about Castiel's life. She seemed honestly baffled why he was unmated and, while Castiel danced around the subject, he noticed Dean listening intently. He felt slightly flustered under the dual assault of blue and green stares, but ended up explaining vaguely about his not-so-ideal alpha characteristics. Mary was polite enough to drop the subject, and, in his relief, Castiel missed Dean’s narrowed stare.
Eventually, Mary sighed and checked the time. "I'd like to stay longer, but I think we need to leave. We still have a hellish amount of boxes to unpack, and I have to run to the store to get the rest of the books OIAA representative told us to get for Dean to read. Now we only have to find a way to actually make him read." She rolled her eyes, exasperated. "What does it take to make a teenager read something?" She raised her voice a little and added, "Comics don't count, Dean!”
She was answered with an indignant huff from the living room.
Castiel chuckled a little. "Sometimes all it takes is the right book.”
Mary smiled. "Well, I won't hold my breath waiting. Dean's always been more about actions anyway, but that's just how he is."
Castiel nodded and tried hard not to think about actions.
He was still trying to redirect his thoughts when he felt a warm body press into his back and was assaulted with pure Dean again. He was instantly affected and was fervently happy that, first, John wasn't present and, second, females didn't have as keen a sense of smell as alphas and omegas. His initial reaction was to close his eyes and inhale, to savor the blissful scent. Fortunately, he did have enough wits about him to open his eyes immediately, and was relieved to note that Mary was more interested in Sam's whereabouts than in Castiel's gut reaction to her underage firstborn.
Dean, for his part, didn't miss a thing. He leaned minutely forward, breath puffing Castiel's cheek. "Mind if I borrow this?" he asked and waved a book in front of him.
Castiel was unable to utter coherent words and nodded mutely instead.
"Awesome!" Dean chimed and tucked the book under his arm.
He sat at the table and smiled at Castiel, who kept staring. Dean didn't seem to mind but stared steadily back at him with an amused grin. Castiel had an inkling there might be something going on, but since his people skills were far from smooth, he was at a loss as usual. What he did notice, though, was Mary watching him, and he decided he had forgotten his very important appointment which was in, oh, about fifteen minutes.
They said their goodbyes and, after a lot of whining from Sam and quite an eye-rolling from Mary, Castiel promised the boys could come back to get some more books if they felt like it. Sam was ecstatic, Mary a little pained, and Dean had a small smug smile on his face. When the Winchesters left, Castiel realized he didn't know which book Dean had borrowed from him.
He was deep in thought as he went through motions of cleaning up and making preparations for the next day's meal. At some point, he caught himself scenting the residual of Dean's smell and mentally shook himself. He should take care of that as soon as possible and, with that decision, he vacuumed the downstairs with scented air fresheners. It helped only a little.
When Castiel went to bed that night, he thought he still smelled Dean. As he pulled the covers from his bed and was attacked by Dean's scent, he suddenly realized why. It didn't take him long to find the pink panties under his pillow. He stared the garment for a good while, mind whirring as he pondered the implications of his discovery. Dean had been in his bedroom. Dean had hidden his underwear in his bed. Dean had been in his bed. Dean — in his bed. He groaned, suddenly achingly hard and he hastily uncovered his cock and fisted himself with furious pace, pressing Dean's panties to his nose to fill his senses with Dean. It took him an embarrassingly short time to come all over his bedding, and the combined smells of Dean and himself filled him with deep contentment.
Until he realized he had just jerked off drooling over a teenager's underwear.