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Castiel's office
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


Castiel slammed Dean against the door and buried his nose into his mate’s throat. “I smell your arousal, Dean. I could smell it back in the Chernaya Komnata.” Dean moaned and bared his throat for his mate. “You’re lucky Michael didn't smell it. You need to be more careful.”

Dean gripped his mate's hips and spun them, slamming Castiel against the door instead. “I couldn't help it, Cas. It's such a goddamn turn on when you’re in control. You look so good covered in blood, baby.” Dean ran his tongue along Castiel's throat, tasting the sweet copper tang of the blood he still wore.

Castiel reached behind his back and locked the door before he shoved Dean, smirking as he stumbled backwards. Castiel advanced on him, guiding Dean to the couch and pushing him down as he climbed on top, straddling him. His mouth found Dean’s immediately, both of them moaning into the kiss. The kiss turned rough and dirty and Castiel could taste blood on Dean’s tongue. He didn’t know if it was his, Dean’s, or left on his skin from slashing Lucifer’s throat, but he didn’t care. All he knew was it was driving his mate wild with want.

Castiel pulled back and stood up, smirking down at the confused look on his mate's face as he unbuckled his belt and worked to get his pants and shoes off.

“I needed to get my pants off before I soak them with slick.”

Dean nodded and took the opportunity to unbutton and unzip his own pants before he pushed them down to pool around his ankles. Dean reached for his shirt, ripping it over his head and Castiel followed suit, leaving them both naked and breathing heavy in the small office space.

Castiel crawled back onto Dean’s lap, the pair of them groaning in unison as their cocks rubbed together. Dean reached up, gripping onto Castiel’s shoulders, his nails digging into the muscle and leaving crescent shaped marks before he dragged them down his back. Castiel arched into the touch, groaning as Dean palmed his ass.

“You don't think Michael will come looking for you, do you?” Dean leaned forward to suck the bloodied skin of Castiel’s throat into his mouth. He released it before it was marked permanently, and then made his way down Castiel’s neck to his mating mark.

Castiel shook his head, arching his neck to give Dean access. “Michael is gone by now, he won't interrupt. Now, no more talking about my brother when you are getting ready to fuck me. I want you, Dean, I want to ride you until you knot me,” Castiel panted as he found his mate’s lips.

Dean grabbed his cock and slid it between his slick mate's ass, positioning it. “You don't gotta tell me twice.” Dean bit his bottom lip as Castiel sunk down on his shaft, encasing him in his tight, wet heat.

Castiel loved the feel of his mate underneath him, loved the feel of Dean’s hands running all over his body. Castiel's thigh muscles quivered as he pushed himself up and dropped back down on his mate’s cock over and over, his hands finding purchase on Dean’s shoulders.

Dean ran his hands down Castiel's chest and gripped his hips thrusting upwards, driving himself deeper into his mate. Castiel gasped, his body tightening when Dean’s cock nudged his prostate. Castiel keened and dragged his nails down Dean’s arms, leaving red welts in their path as he rode his mate harder and faster.

“Fuck, you feel so good, Cas. So tight around my cock,” Dean panted as his hard thrusts turned to grinding, his knot starting to fill.

Castiel groaned as he felt his mate's knot swell, felt it pressing inside him. His body thrummed with want. The feel of Dean’s cock pressing against his prostate sent him over the edge and Castiel dropped his head onto his mate's shoulder and he came untouched, spurting his seed on Dean’s stomach with a loud gasp.

Dean sunk his teeth into Castiel's throat, reopening his mark, licking at the blood that sluggishly oozed from the wound. The Omega’s ass clenched and Dean spilled into Castiel with a low growl escaping his lips. Castiel's body milked his mate's knot and he watched as Dean’s mouth went slack, his eyes rolled in the back of his head, and his breath left in a rush as he pumped another load into Castiel’s body.

As Castiel relaxed against him, Dean ran his tongue over the mark and nuzzled his neck. “Sorry about that,” he said after a few minutes of silence had passed between them.

Castiel sat up and groaned when he tugged on Dean’s knot, causing his Alpha to come again, a sudden realization hitting him like a shot to the gut. Suddenly, he didn’t care that he’d have to spend more time making sure the healing mark was covered. “It's okay. But this was stupid and rash, Dean. We didn't even use the protection Crowley gave us,” his voice trailed off with a small sigh.

Dean huffed. “Well it's not like we had it on us, Cas. And you're not in heat anymore. Chances of conception go down when you're not in heat.”

“But there is still a chance Dean!” He lifted himself slightly to look into his mate’s eyes. “We need to be careful, and not just with that. We are knotted in my office for fuck’s sake. What would we do if someone knocked on the door right now?”

Dean sighed, running his hands down his mate’s back slowly. “You’re right, Cas. We will be more cautious from now on, okay?”

Castiel nodded and forced himself to relax against Dean’s body again to wait for his knot to deflate. There was nothing for them to do now except wait. When Dean’s knot went down enough for them to separate, they cleaned up and Castiel changed into a completely new set of clothes. From his desk, he found an air freshener he had stored for when Balthazar smoked those god awful cigars he liked in Castiel's office. He sprayed a lot of it, hoping to drown out the scent of sex, and then sprayed a few squirts of the Alpha cologne-- just in case.

Castiel pocketed his keys and turned to Dean. “We need to get the hell out of here and fast. I can smell our mated scent.” He nodded to Dean, “I think we sweated off the cologne… it’s worn off. We need to stay a good distance away from members of the Bratva and staff so they can't scent us.”

Dean nodded as he sniffed them and motioned for the door. “Lead the way, Pakhan Krushnic.”



Castiel Krushnic’s House
4140 Ocean Avenue
Brooklyn, New York


Dean sighed, leaning his head back against the couch. It had been two weeks since Castiel had taken care of Lucifer, two weeks of interrogating each and every member of the Bratva to determine if any of them had been aligned with the traitor. Two weeks of showing Castiel’s men exactly who was in charge.

And yet, they had gotten nowhere. There hadn’t been any more activity from Bellomo, no retaliation, but the damage had been done. Both the Bratva and the Patriarca Family had been forced to find other means of transportation for their goods. The 116th Crew had to do the same as well, since the cops were watching the docks closely. Dean’s marina back in Boston was still too risky to use, so they’d resigned themselves to tractor trailers and their own men making trips for smaller shipments.

“We’re getting nothing done here,” Sam sighed, sinking down on the couch beside his brother and letting his head fall to the side so he could meet Dean’s eyes. “I mean, we are no closer to finding Gordon, or Bellomo for that matter. Lucifer’s men seem to have been eradicated by Michael when all that shit went down… so what are we doing, Dean?”

Dean sighed, letting his eyes fall closed for a moment as he thought of an answer. What were they doing? Lucifer was taken care of, Castiel had reported that Gabriel was doing well in his rehab, and things for the Bratva-- save their mutual issue of Bellomo-- were going well. On their end, Gordon was still MIA and they still had to do a funeral or memorial for Bobby.

“Dean,” Sam said softly, sighing as his brother turned to look at him. “I understand that this is hard but, our family isn’t in New York.”

“Part of my family is, Sam,” Dean answered.

“Dean,” Sam sat up and turned toward his brother, “part of your family is always going to be in New York. But… your Family has been missing their Boss for--” He stopped, sighed, then pushed on, “For months now. Most of our Capos and Soldiers have gone back home. Castiel doesn’t need them here anymore. Until until Bellomo makes a move, I hate to say it but… there is nothing for us here.”

“Gordon is probably here, Sam!” Dean fired back, crossing his arms over his chest. “He’s probably holed up somewhere just like Lucifer was, protected with false promises from Bellomo!”

“Right,” Sam nodded, “so what are we doing to find him? What are we doing to lure him out?”

Dean stayed silent. Sam knew exactly what they were doing, exactly what they weren’t doing. Castiel was busy acting as Pakhan, getting his day to day business back in order and filling the spots in his Bratva that had been left by the loss of Lucifer and his men.

And Dean and Sam were just… visiting.

“Our men need us home, Dean.” Sam’s voice was soft, controlled as he watched his older brother. “Hell, Dean, if you don’t care about that, I need to go home! I haven’t seen Jess in over a month, almost two! So,” he looked knowingly at his brother, “I get it Dean, I get that you don’t really want to leave Castiel. But...” Sam sighed, running a hand down his face, “Jess hasn’t even talked to me in three days. I told her that I would be coming home soon and I don’t think she liked that answer… I don’t know. Maybe,” he looked down at his hands with a frown before looking back at his brother, “maybe she’s going to go and find herself a better Alpha that can actually be there for her.”

“Shut up, Sammy. Of course she’s not going to do that.” Dean rolled his eyes and leaned against Sam’s shoulder hard, nearly knocking him off of the couch. “Look, you’re right, okay? Our men need someone back home, need someone to take care of our businesses. I don’t want the Irish thinking we moved out or something…” Dean chuckled but Sam rolled his eyes, unamused. “But they just need a Winchester there. For now, anyways. We do still have business in New York, but we have more in Boston. So,” he sat up and looked calmly at his brother, “I want you to go. Go be with your mate. Pick up my slack. I trust you to make any decisions in my absence.”

“Dean…” Sam started but Dean held up a hand to cut him off.

“Just for a few more weeks, okay? I’ll make a stronger effort to draw out Gordon and Bellomo. And,” he shrugged slightly, “if that proves to be fruitless, I’ll come back home and we'll come up with plan B. But right now…”

“You’re basking in your honeymoon phase of your mating,” Sam sighed and shook his head. “They aren’t going to listen to me like they listen to you, Dean.”

“Of course they will!” Dean retorted hotly, “You,” he grabbed his brother behind his neck, and locked his eyes with Sam’s, “you are Sam fucking Winchester. You’re my brother, and they damn well know your word carries weight. Hell, sometimes I take your word over my own!” He waited a beat, watched as his words sank in and Sam nodded in defeat. “Nadio is sending a shipment to the garage; he’s been switching up drop off points.”

“AKs?” Sam asked and Dean smiled, clapping Sam on the back.

“You got this Sam. I’m a phone call away.”

“Yeah, well…” Sam trailed off and shook his head. “Just-- soon, okay Dean? I don’t want to keep Bobby waiting for much longer…”

“Soon, Sam,” Dean agreed and watched Sam push off of the couch and head for the stairs. As soon as his footsteps were gone, the door to the bedroom he’d been using closed, Castiel made his appearance.

“Everything okay?” he asked, sitting down next to his mate.

“Yeah,” Dean said, offering him a smile. “Just… torn, I guess.”

“Family comes first, Dean,” Castiel said softly, leaning his head against his mate’s shoulder. Dean smiled, nodding his head. “I’ll still be here no matter what.”

Dean stayed silent, soaking up the rare moment of Castiel letting his walls down and relaxing with him. It was moments like this where he was torn the most about his family… and what he truly wanted.



Castiel's office
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


Castiel folded his hands in his lap, looking down at his desk, deep in thought. Sam had left the night before on his way back to Boston, and Castiel would be lying if he said he wasn’t glad that Dean hadn’t gone too. Being with his mate was something he hadn’t expected to bring him so much joy. They’d been happy, very happy. When they were in the safety of Castiel’s home, they could be themselves. Even if it was only for a little while, an hour here or an hour there as the Bratva kept him busy -- it was enough. The more he experienced what it would be like to have a normal life with Dean, the more he wanted it, and he could tell his mate wanted it to.

But with the fragile state of the Bratva, Castiel didn't know when that would be able to happen. One thing he knew for sure was that he didn't see it in the foreseeable future. And he didn't know how to tell that to Dean. He didn’t know how to tell his mate that perhaps the best course of action would be for him to go back to Boston and run his Family, like Castiel was doing here in New York. How to tell him that Sam was probably right.

A sharp knock on the door brought Castiel back to reality and he looked up as he called out, “Zakhodi!

Castiel immediately scowled when Crowley entered and locked the door behind him. “What the hell are you doing here?”

Crowley held up his black leather medical bag and said, “I know you're a busy man and would have a hard time making it down to the office. So, I'm here to give you your yearly checkup.”

Castiel furrowed his brows, shaking his head. “What are you really doing here? You obviously know that it is of the utmost importance to keep…”

Crowley rolled his eyes. “Yes, yes. And Gabriel never would have permitted me to come here in person. I had to have a cover story to tell your lovely bykis so they would let me back here, and a yearly physical sounded just perfect!” He paused, giving Castiel a smirk before rolling his eyes again. “It's been two weeks darling, that's why I'm really here.”

“You have come here to give me my suppressants?” Castiel shut his laptop.

Crowley walked over to Castiel's desk and plopped his medical bag onto the chair across from him. He opened it up and began to dig through it. Castiel heard a mumbled ‘ah hah!’ before Crowley pulled out what he had been looking for. It was thin, rectangular shaped, in a plastic package, and Castiel instantly knew what it was: a pregnancy test.

Crowley waved it in front of him. “You pass this little test and I will give you your suppressants.”

Castiel glared at him for a moment and when the other man refused to lower his gaze, he rose to his feet, walked over to Crowley, and jerked the test from his grip. Castiel stared at it as he twisted it in his hands before he glanced at Crowley, clearly annoyed. “How the fuck do I use it?”

Crowley huffed and shook his head. “It's not rocket science, Castiel. You just pee on the stick, wait three minutes, and look at the window. A plus means you got a bun in the oven and a minus means you dodged a bullet. In the case of a negative, you’ll get your damn suppressants. If it’s positive...”

“It’s not positive. This is a waste of time!” Castiel stormed past Crowley, making sure he bumped him in the shoulder as he passed on his way to the bathroom and slammed the door behind him.

“Mature, Castiel. Real mature,” Crowley mumbled under his breath and Castiel sighed at his words through the door. He looked down at the package, rolling his eyes.

This was completely pointless! He ripped the plastic off of the stick and twisted it in his fingers before he realized there was a cap on the end. He flushed, glad that he was in the bathroom alone, and ripped it off, throwing all of the trash into the sink so he could make Crowley dispose of it far away from the club.

He almost placed it down on the sink but stopped at the last second, wondering if the few water drops there or germs would mess with the results. Not that he was pregnant, Castiel knew that for a fact. He never paid attention to Omega’s talking about mating, or pregnancies-- he never had a reason to. But he knew enough to know that they always knew, could always tell they were pregnant. Stupid dreams or changing scents, their mates could tell before any damn test could, and Castiel knew nothing had changed.

He rolled his eyes at himself. It was going to be negative, Crowley would give him the damn suppressants, and he and Dean could stop using the damn protection Crowley had given them. Using his free hand he undid his pants, pulling himself out to pee. He didn’t know how much the stupid stick actually needed, so he kept the end in the middle of the stream until he was finished peeing. Then he was left there holding a stick, dripping with his own piss.

“God this is disgusting,” he muttered, resisting the urge to shake the stick off.

From outside, Crowley knocked on the door. “You’ve been in there for a while, Castiel. Did you fall in? Have you actually peed on it yet?”

“Yes! This is stupid, Crowley. It’s fucking negative!” Castiel called back, looking down at the stick. The little boxes had changed color, but he couldn’t make out any of the symbols Crowley had talked about.

“Pluses and minuses!” Crowley sing-songed in response. Castiel refrained from responding and stared at the stick, willing the negative symbol to show up faster. A small blue line appeared across the box and Castiel let out a small sigh. Negative. He fucking knew it!

He moved to shake the stick off now that it had fully developed so he could show Crowley, and then froze, almost dropping the stick into the toilet. Across the first line, a second blue line was showing up, crossing over the first.

“No,” he whispered, fingers clenching the stick harder. “There’s no fucking way…”

“Any day, darling! It’s been five minutes…”

Castiel strode to the door and ripped it open, tossing the stick into the sink. “I need another stick.”

Crowley raised his eyebrow but nodded, heading to his bag for another test and handing it through the door to Castiel. Castiel ripped it open, yanking his pants down completely as he stood over the toilet, willing himself to pee again. He’d been nervous before, that’s why. And he knew he hadn’t emptied his bladder completely… He closed his eyes and pictured a running stream, a lake, the feel of a warm shower, and finally started to pee again.

Then he waited.

When he swung the bathroom door open for a second time, he slammed the test into Crowley’s outstretched hand, the man wrinkling his nose as urine splattered against his palm. Castiel stared at him, breathing hard.

“Well…” Crowley said, looking at the bright blue plus sign. “Looks like no suppressants for you love. You are pregnant.” Crowley looked up to see the Omega pacing the room like a caged animal, running his fingers back through his hair.

Castiel stopped at his desk and turned to face Crowley. “I can't do this. I can't be pregnant. I can't have a pup, Crowley!”

Crowley stayed silent, retrieving the trash from the bathroom and placing it all in a bio-bag from his medical case. “Well…” he said slowly, taking his time to pack the trash back in his bag before he looked up at Castiel. “We could always,” the doctor paused and considered his words, “take care of your little ‘problem’.” Crowley nonchalantly pointed at Castiel's stomach.

Castiel’s arms instinctively wrapped around his middle as he chewed on his bottom lip. For a moment, he wondered if he should tell Dean, but shoved that thought away quickly. This wasn’t something they could do-- not while Castiel was Pakhan and his entire Bratva believed him to be an Alpha. He could do this on his own, he needed to do this.

Castiel looked up and nodded at Crowley. “Do it. Set up an appointment. I want this taken care of as soon as possible.”

A pang of guilt ripped through him as he said the words, and he swallowed hard to shove down the sudden swell of emotion. Dean had said he wanted honesty in their relationship… but Castiel wasn’t lying if he didn’t tell Dean in the first place. It was something he could take care of, something Dean never needed to know. They hadn’t even talked about pups, but Dean was well aware of Castiel’s position and opinion on the matter. It wasn’t lying, it was omitting.

Crowley grabbed his bag and nodded. “I will contact you when I get my hands on all the necessary equipment.” He tipped his head as he unlocked the door and let himself out of the office.

“Good,” Castiel said to the empty space as he sank down into his office chair. He folded his arms over his stomach and nodded, reassuring himself. “Good.”



Hotel Lobby
403 Brightwater Avenue
Brighton Beach, NY


Dean waved at the receptionist as he walked into the club, hoping he caught Castiel before he left for the day. His mate had been in the office since that morning and he was hoping that maybe Cas had gotten some information for him.

As he turned for the elevator, he slammed into a short, stocky man, and immediately recognized him.

“Crowley?” He looked around them. The lobby wasn’t too busy, but there were enough people that Dean didn’t want to bring attention to them. He grabbed Crowley’s arm and pushed him back into the elevator, pressing the lock button as soon as the doors were closed. “What are you doing here?”

“I came to pay your mate a little visit.” Crowley smoothed down the front his jacket, brushing off his sleeve as if Dean had gotten it dirty. “And as I told him, I will take care of your problem as soon as possible.”

“Problem?” Dean shook his head. “We don’t have…”

“Yes, the pup you put in his belly.” Crowley rolled his eyes. “I have to get some equipment, and obviously it can’t be done here, but I assume it will be over with within the week.”

Dean stared at him and then punched the lock button, letting the elevator descend to the bottom floor. “Well,” he said, giving Crowley a tight smile. “See you soon then.”

Crowley rolled his eyes and Dean pushed past him, storming across the club floor to the hallway that led to the offices. The bykis usually gave Dean a hard time, but at the expression on his face and the pace he was making his way towards them, they immediately opened the door and let him pass.

As soon as he reached Castiel’s office, he flung the door open wide, the handle slamming into the wall.

“What the fuck, Dean?” Castiel asked as he stood up from his seat, flinging his hand out to the door. “What the hell is…”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” Dean hollered back, reached for the door and slammed it closed.

Castiel snapped his mouth shut and stared.

“What, got nothing to say? You seemed to have plenty to say to Crowley!” Dean felt the satisfaction bleed through every part of his body as Castiel’s face paled.

“Crowley shouldn’t have told you…” Castiel replied, sinking back down into his office chair. He waved to the empty chair but Dean shook his head.

“No, I don’t want to fucking sit, Castiel. And you’re fucking right. Crowley shouldn’t have told me shit. You should have!” Dean felt his entire body shaking and he clenched his hands into fists, forcing himself to keep them at his sides. “How long have you known?”

“I didn’t keep anything from you Dean!” Castiel sighed, exasperated. “I just found out right now! Crowley came with the test to see if I could have my suppressants back and we discovered that--”

“You discovered right now that you were pregnant and you have already decided to terminate?” Dean yelled and Castiel flinched, his eyes darting to the door.

“Dean, you need to stop yelling,” Castiel hissed. “The room should be sound proof but--”

“Like I fucking care about anyone other than you and me right now!”

“How about caring about my life!” Cas closed his eyes for a moment and shook his head slowly. “Dean, come on… I understand that you’re angry, but can we talk about this rationally, please?”

Dean snorted and grabbed the back of the chair, ripping it away from the desk so it was in the center of the room. He sat down, immediately crossing his arms and staring at his mate.

“Yeah, Cas, we can talk about this rationally.” His voice was tight and unyielding. “Please, I would love to hear your rationality for why lying to me, to your mate, when we agreed to be honest with one another was such a good fucking idea.”

“I didn’t lie to you Dean. If you had asked, I would have told you!”

Dean rolled his eyes, biting his tongue as he stared at Castiel. The Omega looked stressed, his hair sticking up even more than usual, but where it was normally endearing… it made Dean’s skin boil. “I am the Pakhan,” Castiel finally continued, “an Alpha, how would we ever explain that to the Bratva? To your family? An Alpha can’t be pregnant, Dean. An unmated, not even in a relationship Alpha to be specific. We can’t have a kid!”

“What happened to telling our families, Cas? To changing things?” Dean fired back.

“I highly doubt,” Castiel snorted, “that coming out to everyone with a pregnancy is the way to go, Dean. Seriously, do you really think that’s a logical way to make the changes we want?”

“I think that this entire thing is illogical, Cas!” Dean yelled back, throwing his arms to the side. “You’re pregnant. You and I made a pup!” His voice caught for a moment, “We made a pup, and you want to just tear that away from me, from us, without even telling me. Do you even see how wrong that is?”

“And what,” Castiel’s eyes had a cold fire in them, “was I supposed to say, Dean? Hey,” he plastered on a false grin, “by the way, we fucked up and now we have a pup that every single one of our enemies will use against us? That is, of course, if our own fucking Families don’t persecute us for lying to them!”

Dean shook his head, suddenly the anger bleeding out of him as he stared at Castiel. His mate’s eyes were pleading with him, begging him to understand. But all Dean felt was betrayed. He swallowed hard, rolling the next words on his tongue.

“You lied to me, Castiel, whether you want to think of it that way or not. We are mated, we are supposed to be a family, and to me? That means we make decisions together. You never wanted to be someone’s ‘bitch’, I always wanted a partner. And I thought that was what we had…” Dean shook his head, tears suddenly making his vision blurred as he looked up at Castiel. “But I guess I’m the ‘bitch’ in this situation. I guess that you get to just make the decisions that affect us both. I don’t get a say, I don’t get an opinion. ‘Family comes first, Dean’, remember? So…” Dean pressed his palms flat against the sides of the chair and pushed up, cutting Castiel off as he opened his mouth to speak again. “I guess I should go and be with my family, because I don’t see any of my family here.”

Without waiting for a response, Dean let himself out of the office, pulling the door shut with a quiet snap instead of slamming it. He paused, half expecting Castiel to come after him. He wasn’t sure what that would accomplish, but his heart twisted painfully when the door stayed shut behind him.

With a shaky hand, Dean reached into his pocket for his phone and pulled it out, dialing Sam’s number as he walked down the hallway and back out into the club.

“Sammy, I’m coming home,” he said in greeting as soon as the phone clicked on.

“Dean!” Sam’s voice sounded panicked and Dean was momentarily grateful that he could forget his own pain and focus on whatever was going on with his brother.

“Sam? What’s wrong?” He punched the button on the elevator with more force than necessary.

“Dean… fuck… Dean, she’s gone, Jess is gone!”

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