Chapter Text
Cas didn't remember how he had ended up back in his den. Once he had untangled himself from Dean, he'd just bolted, mindlessly, like the animal he sometimes was, going on instinct, allowing his panther to guide him back to safety. He finally came back to himself somewhat to find that he was curled up in a little ball in the corner of his den, naked, shivering and human. Again.
This was turning into an unfortunate habit of his.
What the hell had happened?
Cas almost couldn't quite bear to process the situation yet. Part of him, the alpha, panther part mainly, was very satisfied, if a tad peeved that they'd had to leave their mate behind, just as things were getting good. But Cas' human side, the seat of rationality and home-base of awkwardness, wanted to crawl into a hole and die over how wrong and embarrassing that whole experience had been. No matter how good it had felt.
The fact remained: he had practically violated Dean in his sleep. And Dean had kind of violated him back. So...mutual violation? He wasn't sure. He knew they'd both been aroused and both come, but there was the tiny detail where neither of them had been totally awake, aware and able to give consent. And the other little detail where Cas was a shapeshifter and Dean only knew him as a wild leopard and they'd never spoken a word to each other, (well, Dean talked to Cas plenty) much less met while cognizant and collectively human.
Fuck. He was starting to understand the context in which Balthazar and Dean sometimes used that word. And it was appropriate right fucking now. Days of hanging around Dean and listening to him talk were clearly rubbing off on him.
Dammit. Cas tugged at his hair in desperation, his breathing shallow and erratic. This was not the way it was supposed to go. He had to fix this mess somehow!
First though, he knew he needed to calm down and get ahold of himself. He took a few deep breaths, in and out, trying to regulate his heart rate and breathe evenly instead of hyperventilating. He felt so disoriented and tired; his head and left shoulder both throbbed in tandem with his heartbeat.
He had to take stock of the situation.
Yes. He could do this.
He tried to go back over the events of the last twenty-four hours or so of his one-on-one interactions with Dean and wrangle them into some sort of order. Alright. As far as he knew, Dean had been effectively unconscious during their little...encounter and had not actually seen Cas. Okay. Good. That was good. It also meant he absolutely could not put off finally meeting Dean in his skin, not even for one more day, it had to be today.
Time was running out. Dean was many things, but Cas did not consider stupid to be one of them, no matter how self-deprecatingly Dean liked to refer to himself. Dean would put two and two together in due time and realize Cas' true nature and Cas was determined to tell him the truth himself, in person, before that happened. This whole thing would be difficult enough as it was without adding Dean being angry because he felt Cas had lied to him.
He'd already seen that considering, curious glint in Dean's evergreen gaze whenever Cas did something that registered as just a little too smart, too human. He could almost see Dean's clever mind working to figure out what it all meant. The only thing Cas had in his favor was denial. That wonderful human ability to deny facts even when squarely faced with them. The refusal to believe that the simplest explanation was the correct one. Cas saw it every time Dean brushed it off, scoffing loudly about jungle madness, disregarding what his mind told him was the answer. That might buy him a little time, enough that Cas could quickly form a plan and put it in action.
Cas wasn't overly familiar with denial; in the wild, in his fur, there was no need for it. Life in the jungle was primal, immediate, cut and dry. Eat or be eaten. Sleep, hunt, find shelter, occasionally copulate. Simple.
But Cas could also hear Balthazar's voice in his head telling him he was a hypocrite because he preferred to deny his humanity more often than not and wasn't that a form of denial as well?
Fine. So maybe a little...what was it that Balthazar said sometimes? Ahh yes...maybe a little bit of “show and tell” was in order. Though Cas was relatively sure Balthazar's version of show and tell included a lot more nudity than Cas was comfortable revealing to Dean in their first meeting, although, now that he thought about it, he'd sort of already done that, bypassing plain nudity and jumping right into enthusiastic rutting, not that Dean had been aware (or seemed to mind), but Cas knew. So this seemed to be the only solution. Cas hadn't been brave enough initially to shift to his skin when he'd allowed Dean to see him for the first time and things had spiraled out of control from there.
Things had started out so well, too. That look of pure happiness when Dean had first seen him. Cas had basked in it so contentedly; the warm feeling of everything falling into place effortlessly. Cas had been hesitant at first when Dean stretched out his hand in offering towards him, but the moment they touched, it was like Dean's hand had been molded especially to cup his cheek. He watched the play of emotions wash across his mate's face; awe mixed in with a healthy dose of fear, disbelief and giddy joy. Cas couldn't deny he felt about the same.
From the moment he had seen Dean come around the corner and they had finally come face to face in that sunny clearing, Cas felt as though his entire world, small though it was, had been turned upside-down. Did everyone experience this when they met their mate or was he just special? There was no denying that Dean was for sure his mate, that had become clear the closer in proximity they got and each passing minute spent in each others company seemed to affirm the belief, at least on Cas' side. Since Dean was not a shifter, Cas couldn't communicate with him telepathically as he did with other shifters. But that hadn't stopped them; even in person, Dean still talked to him as he had before Cas had shown himself and seemed to be able to understand Cas' wordless replies with surprising accuracy.
Dean had been remarkably respectful, very mindful in that, as far as he knew, Cas was a wild animal and should be treated accordingly. Cas loved the awe on Dean's face every time Cas approached him and allowed Dean to pet him. Cas had never been much for petting and cuddling, outside of times of duress or copulation, but it seemed to make a difference when the person smelled, looked and tasted as perfect as Dean. Cas couldn't seem to get enough of the feel of Dean's hands on him, the soothing, wondering way his hands explored Cas and then the way it had felt the first time he really got to scent Dean.
Mmmm. Getting to bury his face in that warm hollow between Dean's neck and shoulder, marking him thoroughly, rubbing his muzzle against the fluttering pulse that told him that Dean was scared but trusted him. Blending their scents together in a way that made his alpha instincts purr in approval, which was only heightened when he was unable to restrain himself and licked Dean's throat. He couldn't get quite as clear a read on how Dean was feeling just from his scent like he would be able to with another shifter but the fact that Dean was his mate made him easier to read than just any random human.
Cas had been mildly embarrassed at his forwardness, especially when Dean called him on it, what with the licking and practically crawling right into Dean's lap, but Cas could tell, even as rusty as his “people skills” were (as Balthazar referred to them) that Dean didn't really mind and was only kidding. And besides, Cas felt that he was entitled, he had waited so long for this moment and after all, this was his mate! Who could blame him for wanting to get as close as possible? It had been nearly torture to keep his distance, only watching from afar, biding his time.
But then when Dean had ignorantly teased Cas, first about Cas' stalker tendencies, not to mention the spraying and peeing on Dean's belongings, he had taken umbrage; as alpha, it was his right to protect and lay claim to his mate, (though he did feel moderately guilty for purposely urinating on Dean's things) but he did try to acknowledge the fact that Dean knew nothing of this and instead only treated his mate to a dirty look at his mocking.
And then again, when Dean complained of Cas' heaviness, he merely warned him with a sharp prick of his claws and another heated glare, at which Dean backtracked, though Cas secretly thought it was funny and was at least secure enough in his fur to not truly mind being teased about his weight, he knew he was all muscle, knew Dean was just teasing him, but it was entertaining and good to keep his mate on his toes.
Cas was aware from all the time he had spent observing Dean that the man liked to joke a lot, but Dean struck a nerve when he went on to badger Cas about his failed courting attempts,(though Dean was unaware that's what they were) he hadn't been able to control his alpha instincts that raged, angry and hurt that his efforts to prove his worthiness had been rejected by his mate, however unknowingly.
The shame and foolishness he had felt at Dean's jibe (“Showing off, huh?”) burned through him; maybe his family had been right and Cas was too stubborn to admit that his methods of courting weren't working in this situation.
With his paws digging heavily into his mate's shoulders (but not hard enough to truly hurt him) he had stared down into Dean's vibrant green eyes (which Cas was already enamored of) and willed him to understand why he was so upset and amazingly, it seemed to work. Dean stared right back like he couldn't bear to tear his gaze away and luckily, Cas wasn't one of those alphas who wanted his mate to avoid eye contact, it wasn't a challenge of dominance to him, but rather a further window of communication, and with Dean, he felt he needed all the conversational advantages he could get.
And when Dean had explained himself, Cas, despite feeling even more foolish at not realizing that while he himself enjoyed most of his food raw, even when in his skin, understood that Dean was more inclined to cook all his food and since fires were prohibited within the preserve he hadn't been purposely spurning Cas' advances.
He also found himself grudgingly mollified at Dean's apology and recognition of all Cas' hard work and even preened a little bit at Dean calling him “a freakin' awesome hunter,” which, in Dean-speak, he was pretty sure was a high compliment. As disheartening as the last few days had been, his alpha had needed to be soothed by the petting and reassurances of his mate, reminding him that all hope was not lost, that Dean was at least somewhat receptive to Cas' overtures, even if the man wasn't quite aware that's what they were.
He had worried for a moment that his temper had ruined everything between them when Dean had scooted back after Cas let him up, moving away until he bumped against the rocks behind him, but relaxed when after a few moments Dean smiled tentatively at him and held out his hand again, beckoning Cas closer; he complied, cuddling right up to Dean, delighting in the welcoming sensation of his mate's fingers combing through his fur.
But his heart had sunk again when once more Dean's ribbing struck a little too close to home (“Are you always this...friendly? Hmm, kitty? Or is it just me, huh? Is that why you brought me all those gifts? You like me or something? You do know I am a human, right?”) and Cas couldn't keep from tensing up, dropping his gaze from Dean's face, feeling stupid for ever thinking this absurd plan would work. Of course Dean only thought of Cas' efforts to woo him as a joke. There was too much that Dean didn't know. It only made Cas realize what a deep chasm lay between the two of them, each from different worlds, with various barriers holding them back, language, culture, species. How would they ever bridge the gap? And while Cas knew that he too, was partly human, he didn't feel like one of them; he'd been going native (as Balthazar liked to say) for so long it felt natural. His animal instincts were much sharper, more honed than his humanity, but he reasoned, that much like muscles grown weak from disuse, his human nature could be strengthened by exercising it rigorously.
He had allowed Dean to rub calming circles into his fur, easing away some of his misery and at the faint hint of worry permeating Dean's scent, had tried to get control of himself so as to not further concern his mate. But though Dean had apologized for his teasing, Cas was relieved when he eventually opted to stay quiet; (as much as he loved Dean's voice) he really didn't need to be reminded right now of all the ways he and Dean were dissimilar.
Dean seemed to sense Cas' upset and kept up his calming rhythm of full-body petting that Cas was reveling in, but after a few minutes Cas realized he wasn't the only one thinking deep thoughts when Dean snorted and asked him if he could tell him what was going on.
Well, good. His mate was proving that he was much smarter than he liked to let on (though Cas had never doubted that) and Cas was cheered up a little when Dean assured him, “We'll figure it all out,” before curling his arms around Cas possessively. He loved the sensation of being wrapped up in Dean's strong arms, the feeling of being wanted, even if Dean didn't know who or what he truly was. His alpha purred at the attention, grumbling only a little bit, his instincts dictating that, as the alpha, it was his arms that should be encasing Dean securely, but it all felt so good that Cas thought he wouldn't mind a little role-reversal from time to time.
Cas had only dozed lightly while Dean slept, content to stay on the watch, mostly alert, listening to their heartbeats and breaths syncing up and savoring the warmth and closeness of his mate. He could at least have this, for now.
When Dean awoke from his nap a couple hours later, he caught Cas watching him as he slept, but didn't seem to mind too much, more concerned with his pressing need to urinate, but Cas selfishly didn't want to relinquish their newfound proximity just yet and settled in more comfortably, licking Dean's chin and relishing the taste of his mate on his tongue, basking in his presence.
He enjoyed Dean's sass and fire and even played into it, loving that even though Dean was intimidated by him, he wasn't afraid to stand up to him either, which spoke to a level of trust Cas was thrilled to see they shared. After a mild show of faux dominance, Cas let him up to go take care of his business.
While he was gone, Cas stretched, inspected and marked Dean's backpack, barely restraining himself from rolling all over it so that they would smell like each other, which again, Dean didn't seem to mind, only rolling his eyes fondly, which Cas took as a definite good sign.
Just as Cas was wondering where they would go from here, he was given the answer by Dean's ferociously growling belly. Here was another chance to provide for his mate properly and this time he would not fail, he knew exactly where to go. While Dean had been napping, he'd taken to heart what he had said about not being accustomed to eating raw animal meat and the forbiddance of fires within the preserve and thus tried to think of other things that he might bring Dean as gifts and then it hit him, (he was annoyed he hadn't thought of it earlier) there was plenty of fresh, delicious, ready-to-eat fruit all over the island!
Admittedly, fruit had not been at the top of his list for a courting gift, a fresh kill was traditionally more worthy, better proof that an alpha was a reliable hunter, able to steadfastly provide and protect. Fruit required no work or skill to acquire, could be obtained by anyone and while delicious, was not enough sustenance to keep a predator going. Cas had even heard Dean say that warriors (which he obviously considered himself) needed meat, not “rabbit food,” during a rant about how Sam was always trying to feed him too many fruits and vegetables. But then again, Dean classified pie as a part of the fruit group; Cas wasn't sure, but he didn't think that was quite correct, but who cared when pie made Dean so happy?
Anyhow, be that as it may, he might as well try, because really, what did he have to lose at this point? At least fruit was easy to eat. He had to start showing Dean somehow that he was a desirable mate; hopefully this would be his salvation.
Accordingly, he set off after rubbing against Dean's legs, flicking his tail at him in a wordless prompt and it elated his alpha to see how easily Dean took the cue to follow him. Dean obediently trailed after him, snapping off a few pictures here and there and Cas wondered if Dean was photographing him. If he was, Cas wasn't quite sure how he felt about that. On one hand, he was glad that since they'd finally met Dean hadn't been immediately shoving a camera in his face, yet on the other hand, he didn't think he'd mind if Dean took his picture, since Dean was his mate. And he couldn't deny the mild jealousy he felt at the idea of Dean taking pictures of other wildlife and shifters.
When they finally reached their destination of the small grove of wild mangosteen trees that Cas had had in mind, he watched smugly in fond amusement as Dean attempted to jump high enough to knock a piece of fruit down for himself. Cas decided to graciously help him out, even though he was wholeheartedly enjoying the man's antics. Cas knew he was showing off, but couldn't seem to contain himself as he effortlessly sailed up into the tree, returning to the ground after a few seconds with a branch that had several fruits dangling off it, depositing it at Dean's feet, knowing his satisfaction at providing for his mate was rolling off him in a nearly tangible wave of alpha pride.
If Dean noticed, he didn't seem to mind, even looking to Cas for further assistance on how to dismantle the fruit, which Cas was all too happy to demonstrate. His alpha instincts purred loudly at his mate's thanks and then he waited with bated breath to see what Dean though of this latest offering. At Dean's enthusiastic approval, Cas' alpha roared exultantly; it may have just been a little thing and it wasn't like the fruit was a fresh kill, but it was the first time Dean had accepted one of Cas' courting gifts favorably.
Cas couldn't quite say why he had licked Dean's hand so sensuously when offered a piece of fruit, but he was pleasantly surprised at the blush that rose up in Dean's throat and face and the delicate curls of arousal he scented on his mate. That was definitely interesting, though he wasn't quite sure what to make of the heat in Dean's eyes and yet again he wondered what the man could possibly be thinking but Cas hoped Dean would be just as easily stimulated by Cas when in his skin.
He was more than happy to honor Dean's request for more fruit, after all, it was another chance to show off and he couldn't afford to pass those up, not to mention the opportunity to rile up his mate, which Dean good-naturedly took in stride before announcing his wish to find a spot to make camp for the night before it got dark.
Immediately, Cas thought of one of his favorite haunts which wasn't too far from their current location and was the same direction Dean was heading anyway in order to reach Ciptagelar. Pacing forward purposefully he set out, Dean following him trustingly, to his delight. They made good time, though Dean seemed lost in thought, content to let Cas lead the way without question, causing Cas' alpha to puff up in exhilaration at the confidence and responsibility Dean was placing in him.
Cas was forced once to stop and double back when Dean paused by the rocky outcropping they had met at this morning, (was it only this morning that they had first met face-to-face?) puzzled as to why Dean had become waylaid. His mate had a look of consternation and deep concentration on his face; perhaps Dean didn't think Cas knew where he was going? Or maybe he didn't think Cas could pick a satisfactory place to camp for the night? Well, he had nothing to worry about, Cas was going to take good care of him.
Seeking to console Dean and assure him of Cas' sense of direction, he rubbed his muzzle on the back of Dean's knees and against his thigh, urging him forward, relieved when Dean chuckled and acquiesced, trailing after Cas once more.
A mile or so further and Cas could tell Dean was becoming frustrated at having to hack a path through the overgrown vegetation and again, he wished he was in his skin so he could just speak up and encourage Dean to keep going, since they were quite close to their destination. He slunk out into the clearing, edging over to his favorite sunning spot atop a large flat plateau, flopping down silently to observe as Dean burst through the last barrier of branches, ever watching for his mate's approval. The look of amazed wonderment on Dean's face as he gazed around and moved deeper into the area to explore was confirmation enough to Cas that his mate sanctioned his choice of camping spot and filled Cas with the warmth of gratification, his panther purring happily at the scent of content mate rolling off Dean in waves that Cas could smell, even at a distance.
After a few moments, Dean turned around, clearly searching for him, and Cas tried to look aloof, as though he hadn't been wholly focused on Dean's reaction to one of Cas' favorite little hideaways. Dean made a beeline for him and once more Cas couldn't stop himself from preening at the praise Dean showered him with, rejoicing in the warm glow that his mate's enjoyment of a place close to his heart brought him. Cas was so glad to be able to give back, to share something special with Dean in the same fashion that Dean had introduced Cas to his beloved music and books.
He reveled in Dean's attentions as his mate scratched his ears and under his chin, leaning heavily into Dean's strong fingers, unable to keep the happy grin to himself, tongue practically lolling out of his mouth at how good it felt to have his mate's hands on him.
To his mild embarrassment, the noise he made when Dean ceased his ministrations was decidedly whiny, and Cas couldn't help but stretch his paws out to snag his claws lightly in Dean's shirt, hungry for more affection. Dean's smile was sweet as he proposed that they get camp set up, promising to give Cas “a good rubdown” later in the evening.
Excited to finally get to investigate all of Dean's belongings, he sprinted over to where Dean was dismantling his pack. Cas knew he was being more of a hindrance than a help, but his curiosity was too strong to ignore and it felt so invigorating to rub his scent on everything and on Dean himself, to be so close to his mate's warmth and intoxicating scent; besides, Dean didn't seem to mind at all, periodically nudging Cas back, and chuckling when Cas headbutted his shoulder playfully. Cas' alpha was happily flopped down on its back, rolling around in ecstasy at the proximity and scent of his cheerful mate. Cas himself had never felt this serene and jubilant and he was quickly becoming addicted both to the feeling and the person who inspired it.
After Dean had mostly gotten everything all set up, with no help from Cas at all, as he laughingly reminded him, Cas sauntered off to scent-mark the surrounding areas, warning other predators to keep away from Cas and his mate. Preoccupied with his task, Cas didn't immediately notice how close Dean was getting to a nearby fish poison tree til the man had already plucked a low-hanging fruit, bringing it close to his face. Terrified, Cas darted forward, colliding solidly with Dean, knocking him flat and batting away the deadly piece of fruit far out of the grasp of his precious mate.
Whipping around, he growled at Dean, alpha instincts kicking into overdrive, as he fought down his terror and panic; even a slight taste of the fruit could have made Dean deathly ill or even killed him. Cas was also angry with himself for not remembering that the trees were in this area and consequently, not paying better attention to his mate's safety.
Dean was glaring at him as he stood back up, dusting himself off, unaware of his brush with peril. At Dean's loud questioning of whether or not the fruit was forbidden, Cas just stared at him in frustration, willing his mate to understand the danger. Of course the fruit was forbidden, but not for whatever reason he was thinking, rather because of its poisonous qualities, which Dean quickly came to realize and Cas grumbled in relief, padding up to his mate and rubbing his muzzle against Dean's knee, feeling relieved and fond at the same time, then slightly annoyed, yet charmed at Dean's pouting over being tackled to the ground by Cas. It didn't escape Cas' notice that if he'd been in his skin he could have just used his voice and easily warned Dean away from the fruit, not to mention explained why it was so undesirable. Shifting to his skin would solve quite a few problems actually, which only increased his vexation with himself over his own reticence regarding the situation.
Nonetheless, Cas couldn't resist taking advantage of Dean's position when he leaned down to offer his thanks in the form of a hug, caressing Dean's whiskered cheek with his own velvety one, tongue flitting out to lick up the light sheen of sweat he found in the hollows of his mate's throat and neck, exulting in the pleased little giggle he teased from Dean before he was gently pushed back. He could definitely get used to this and as good as things were like this, how much better would they be when Cas was in his skin, able to touch Dean with his hands and mouth and tongue?
Cas' reverie was broken when simultaneously, as Dean crossed over to his tent to get some food, Cas caught the scent of a small herd of lowland anoas close by and was suddenly reminded that he hadn't eaten since before dawn this morning and was immediately, ravenously hungry.
He glanced at his mate speculatively, torn between the instinct to hunt but worried for his mate's safety; what if predators came or Dean found more poisonous fruit? Grudgingly, Cas realized that trust had to run both ways, and gave Dean a look that he hoped relayed the sentiment to not get in any trouble while he was gone, only to receive the adorable image of Dean frowning grumpily and sticking his tongue out in return. Cas rolled his eyes at the display, but it went a little ways towards reassuring him that his mate would survive in his absence, Dean was a grown man after all, but still, the jungle was a wild place and Cas resolved to make this a quick hunt, eager to find sustenance and rejoin his mate.
Diving back seamlessly into the undergrowth, he stalked the herd for a quarter mile, finally locating them at a well-traveled watering hole and proceeded to corner a young, male juvenile that had an injured back leg. Cas wasted no time in pouncing, but for reasons, didn't quite deliver the usual quick death, instead choosing to stun the animal into submission with a vicious, but not killing, bite to the jugular, copious loss of blood weakening it enough so that the struggling was minimal as Cas drug it back the way he came, heading home to his mate.
It was worth it purely for the look on Dean's face when he returned, a mix of shock, mild horror, pride and awe chased themselves over his countenance. It wasn't until Dean flinched when Cas finally snapped the anoa's neck that he noticed he could also scent how nervous Dean was even from a distance and Cas realized that Dean was anxious and possibly even afraid of him. Apparently, his little display hadn't had quite the desired affect; he had wanted to impress Dean, not terrify him.
Seeking to rectify his mistake as speedily as possible, he deposited his kill at the base of a nearby ceiba tree and made his way over to his mate. It saddened him when he caught Dean shrinking back slightly from him, as if vividly reminded that Cas was indeed a wild animal. Wild though he might be, he would never hurt his mate and the need to make this clear to Dean was all-encompassing.
Dean covered up his nerves with silly jokes as usual and Cas approached him apprehensively, unsure of his welcome, but was more relieved than he liked to admit when Dean grinned and eagerly reached for him, the petting relaxing both of them immeasurably. Cas knew things were alright when Dean started teasing him about being an “exhibitionist” and calling him “a badass,” which was high praise if Dean's tone was any indication. Cas glared mildly at him to save face over being caught showing off yet again, but secretly was thrilled at Dean's obvious admiration and acceptance.
Feigning huffiness, he forced himself to eventually draw away from Dean's captivating caresses, collected his kill and retired up into the trees to enjoy his well-deserved meal and give himself a much needed grooming session, conscientiously cleaning away all traces of blood and gore so as not to offend or alarm Dean. Descending from the tree after his short respite, he had a quick drink of water before gliding over to where Dean was obviously (but trying so hard to look as though he wasn't) waiting for him and again, warmth blossomed in Cas over the fact that he had someone waiting on him now, and it was a wonderful feeling indeed. Dean was clad in his pajamas and Cas took a moment to rub his cheek against Dean's thigh and indulge in some ear scritching as Dean asked how his dinner was before following Dean into his tent as though it was a routine they'd had down pat for years.
Once they were settled, with Dean ensconced inside his sleeping bag and Cas molded up against his side, Dean proclaimed that it was, “story time!” and Cas rumblingly purred his approval, leaning up to smudge his cheek against the paperback book, adding his scent to Dean's which permeated the book from long years of use. He laid his head back down on Dean's chest, wiggling a little to be as close as possible to his mate. And thus Cas was swept away with the lilt of Dean's velvety rough voice, the urge to melt into his mate carrying him closer in small increments, like a gentle tide til he was draped overtop of Dean completely, paws wrapped around the man's shoulders, Dean's heartbeat thrumming through Cas melodically and Dean's hand cradling his head, fingers hypnotically massaging behind Cas' ears, soothing him into a trance-like state. Cas had never been happier, and it barely registered when Dean sat up slightly to put the book away and turn out the lantern.
When he laid back down, Cas buried his face once more into the cozy hollow of Dean's neck and shoulder, his contentment increasing when Dean wrapped his arms around Cas in a firm hug. Cas couldn't help but return the affection and licked at his mate's throat, wondering how he'd ever lived without all this before. His heart was replete when Dean started lowly singing directly into his ear, rubbing his plush lips against the delicate shell of Cas' ear and stroking his hands up and down Cas' back and shoulders. He had thought Dean's voice was lovely while reading and belting out his favorite songs but it was absolutely enchanting to hear him whisper-singing as though communing directly with Cas' soul and so he melted entirely into a boneless puddle of happy panther and drifted to sleep on the soft lullaby sung to him by his mate.
As pleasantly as he had floated into slumber was equivalent to how violently he was wrenched awake, panicked and horrified to find himself in his skin, his panther growling, wanting to claim and bite and Dean writhing in the throes of passion beneath him even as Castiel found his own release. It was, suffice it to say, a rude awakening. But it was also an important wake-up call. The day before had lulled Cas into a false sense of security, allowing him to think he had time to ease Dean into the situation, but now there was a definite time-frame Cas was forced to adhere to.
Cas had once prided himself on his self-control, but lately, ever since Dean came on the scene, his emotions were all over the place and his alpha, whether in his skin or fur, seemed unusually close to the surface, dictating his behavior more than ever before, completely overshadowing his rationality and humanity at times. Cas found this disturbing somewhat, but then again, his reactions were hard to predict seeing as he'd never been faced with the possibility of a mate and as things progressed, it seemed all the more likely that Dean was not only just a highly compatible mate but conceivably, his truemate. Which were such a rare occurrence that it was difficult to know how to proceed or what to expect, seeing as such an event, while uncommon but not unheard of, was thus, not well-documented. In fact, Cas didn't know any other shifters that had found their truemates.
Oh, plenty of them found mates and ended up mated, but it was a gradual thing like with Inias and Hester or oftentimes the product of a frenzied heat or rut and the claiming happened in the heat of the moment. When Cas had shared heats with Amelia and Meg there had been no lasting mating impulse beyond whatever immediate biological urge he had felt to breed with heat-crazed females. Even after the coupling with Amelia had produced Claire, neither of them had felt inclined to mate, preferring instead to remain friends. And with Meg, the level of animosity they had shared for one another had translated more accurately into what Balthazar had termed as “hate sex” than anything else and definitely not a compatible mating, which Cas was immeasurably grateful for once he got to know Meg a bit better; she wasn't to be trusted and had, in fact, been the one to lead the poachers into shifter territory the year before, endangering everyone.
Outside of those brief endeavors Castiel certainly had never let someone he hardly knew get that near to him, but there was something about Dean, beyond the mate scent that had first drawn him.
Castiel had kept his distance from those poachers who had come last year, had never felt the urge to get closer to them, they had been intruders, encroaching on his territory, a threat. One that he had dealt with accordingly too. They had meant him and his kind ill-will, tried to capture them for nefarious purposes. But Dean...he knew with bone-deep certainty that just as he would never do anything to hurt Dean, that accordingly, Dean would not harm him. Cas couldn't stay away from him and he didn't want to Dean to leave. He wanted Dean to stay with him forever. That's what mates, truemates, meant; forever. Tied and bound beyond this life and into the next.
Perhaps Balthazar was right. It would explain a lot, his unstable moods and his apparent inability to control his panther, thus causing his unprompted shifts back and forth between his fur and skin. His body was yearning, begging for its mate and who was he to deny it? It would appear that he and Dean both were in denial, self-denial in Cas' case. Well, Cas could rectify that. At least on his end, anyways. And now that Cas had gotten a taste of Dean, he was ravenous for more. Cas closed his eyes, remembering the scent and taste of Dean's skin.
Taste. Taste. And the scent...mmm...Cinnamon, apples, leather, fresh rainfall and spicy, heady sunshine, sweat..blood...wait...had there? There had been blood. Dean's blood? No...
Cas' eyes snapped open, as the throbbing in his left shoulder suddenly intensified. Gasping, he glanced down and twisted his neck to see a scabbed over but definite bite mark in the meat of his shoulder. There was dried blood smeared all around the wound; it was relatively shallow, not quite a mating bite but thanks to his shifter abilities it looked like it was already starting to heal, though Cas had a feeling it would leave a scar no matter what. Cas licked his fingers and tried to clean away some of the blood, hissing as his fingers brushed against the tender flesh.
Cas shivered. It was practically a mating bite. Dazedly, he recalled Dean biting him while in the throes of his orgasm. So that had been real. Terror and hope washed through him as he tried to gather his scattered thoughts into some semblance of order.
If Dean had ingested even a few drops of Cas' blood...well. It meant Cas had even less time than he had first assumed. Dean might end up doing a little “show-and-tell” of his own if Cas didn't reach him to explain things in time. Unsure of how quickly shifter blood reacted in a full-blown human, Cas was spurred into action. Concentrating, he shifted back into his fur; speed was key right now and the panther had it in spades, eager to be reunited with its mate. It was amazing to Cas that even after what was probably only an hour or so, how much he missed Dean's presence already, craving his mate like a drug.
Climbing down from his den, he sped through the jungle on silent paws, making it to Dean's campsite in the lagoon in record time only to find it vacated, Dean apparently having already cleared out. Cas tracked him down a mile away by his scent and the sound of his singing, keeping hidden in the undergrowth but assuring himself that his mate was safe. Dean was still heading in a southerly direction, obviously making for Ciptagelar and Cas was determined to meet him there, in his skin this time.
Resolved, he set out swiftly, making a wide loop around Dean, thus bypassing him undetected and reaching Ciptagelar first, at least an hour or so ahead of Dean.
Singlemindedly heading for his cabin, he barely noticed Balthazar and Claire bickering playfully about something as he breezed by them, too focused on finding some clothes and making himself presentable before Dean arrived. No doubt catching wind of the scent of his excitement and anxiety, they trailed him to the door of the little hut he sometimes shared with Balthazar, watching in surprise and slight bewilderment as Cas shifted from his fur to his skin with no preamble.
“Ewww! Daaaad!” Claire complained as Cas, naked as a jaybird, started rummaging through the cupboards looking for suitable clothing.
Balthazar chuckled as he held his hands up over Claire's eyes as a makeshift blindfold, all the while eyeing Cas shrewdly.
“So Cassie, big day hmm?”
Cas merely grunted, ignoring his brother's sly look and arched eyebrow, pulling out a pair of well-worn black sweats and yanking them on haphazardly. Rifling through another drawer he attempted to locate a clean shirt of some sort.
“So does all this whirling about like a dervish mean that you talked to Dean yesterday and that he is now on his way here?” inquired Balthazar.
“Who's Dean?” Claire piped up, batting Balthazar's hands away from her face now as she saw Cas was more or less clothed.
“Your dad's truemate,” Balthazar supplied, even as Cas finally grumbled, “We didn't exactly talk.”
“Wait, what?! Who?” Claire squawked, blue eyes wide.
“Oooh! Straight to the main event then, eh Cassie?” Balthazar grinned salaciously.
“No! Well...” Cas trailed off uncomfortably.
“Oh my god, do you mean that photojournalist guy?” Claire questioned.
“Yes.” Cas answered.
“Yes, you had had sex?!” Balthazar exclaimed.
Exasperated, Cas let loose a growl and avoided their questions in favor of a larger problem. “Why don't we have any shirts?”
“Because when you look this good,” Balthazar gestured back and forth between his and Castiel's lean physiques, “why cover it up darling?”
“Ughh...you two are so gross,” Claire said, rolling her eyes. “Some of us prefer to be civilized, we're not all animals here!” Claire winked smugly, primly smoothing a hand down the leg of her skinny jeans.
Balthazar rolled his eyes back at her, slapping a hand to his chest dramatically in mock-offense but cut off whatever reply he'd been about to make when he noticed how frenzied Cas looked, now leaning in to peer at his reflection critically in the little mirror that was affixed to the wall over a small, freestanding sink. Balthazar watched worriedly as Cas hurriedly splashed water on his face and raked his hands through his hair, trying in vain to tame the unruly mass into something a bit more conservative. But when the finger-combing turned into just plain distressed hair-pulling, he set a hand firmly on Cas' shoulder and guided him gently to sit down on the lone, bare mattress in the corner, Claire plopping down on Cas' other side.
“Alright Cassie, spit it out, what happened?”
Cas took a deep breath, relaxing a little as he breathed in their comforting scents; Claire clasped her small hand with his and Balthazar rubbed soothing circles into his shoulder.
For Claire's benefit, he started at the beginning, from when he had first scented Dean in that mango tree, days ago, briefly detailing his mostly failed efforts at courting, leaving out the parts about the cobra incident and embarrassing wet dream, since he didn't think it of import to share with his daughter and Balthazar already knew about it. He told how he'd finally mustered up the courage to show himself to Dean, (in his fur, anyways) and brought him to his favorite lagoon after Dean had accepted the gift of fruit, which Claire “Awww-ed” at and even Balthazar smiled indulgently. But when he got to the events that had happened this morning, he tried to tread carefully for Claire's sake, besides, right now, to Cas, the accidental sleep sex part wasn't nearly as significant as the almost-mating bite and Dean ingesting Cas' blood. First things first, Cas would deal with the fallout of the more immediate, time sensitive issue before he addressed the secondary one.
“Looks like he did more than bite you Cassie! You've got a few new rosettes on you as well,” Balthazar smirked even as Claire giggled and wrinkled her nose, equal parts excited and grossed out.
“What? Where?!” Cas leapt up and planted himself in front of the little mirror, contorting a bit until he saw the purple marks blooming along his collarbones and the column of his throat. His panther immediately crowed in delight, and Cas couldn't help the flush that spread from his chest to his hairline, feeling rather proud and smug over the obvious marks of Dean's claim. He idly wondered if he'd left similar marks on Dean. He supposed he'd find out soon enough.
“Cas!”
“Hmm? Oh, sorry, what is it Bal?” Cas looked up from where he'd unconsciously been petting the bruises and daydreaming about all the ways he could mark Dean up, only to see Balthazar and Claire gazing at him expectantly.
“I said, are you sure he swallowed some of your blood?” Balthazar's light, knowing smirk was tempered by the seriousness of his tone.
Cas thought for a moment, trying to parse out the events of the dream-that-was not-a-dream, before answering hesitantly, “It was a rather deep bite, not quite a mating bite, but there was enough blood that I don't know how he could have avoided swallowing at least a little of it. Even if he didn't, I still need to tell him the truth.”
“Yes, a fine idea, one I advocated from the start,” said Balthazar, smiling winningly at Cas, who leveled a black glare upon him while rubbing gently at the bite, which by now had healed into a smooth, slightly shiny, pale pinkish-white, nearly perfect circle of teeth marks. It was fairly indiscernible but Cas felt attuned to it, could feel his blood throbbing wildly underneath it like a trapped bird, as though it was another pulse point or like his heart had relocated, migrating up into his shoulder. In reality, it was the beginning of his mating bond with Dean, which was mainly why he was not only convinced that Dean had ingested some of his blood, but also that Dean was his truemate; he had never, nor could he even imagine feeling like this about anyone else, though he preferred to keep these conclusions to himself.
Cas tuned back into the conversation only to hear Claire asking curiously, “How much of our blood does a normal human have to drink before they turn into a shifter?”
“Hmm...you know, I'm not really sure, that's never actually been done before. I've heard stories about it, but none of them first-hand, mostly just old legends about the creation of our kind and so on. Its not like werewolves, where a single bite can turn a human. One old tale I was told likened the turning process closer to that of vampires, where the blood does have to be consumed but unlike vampires, the amount is dependent upon how compatible the shifter and the human are, the higher the level of compatibility, the smaller the dose of blood required and vice-versa.”
Cas and Claire were both listening avidly and Cas opened his mouth but Claire loudly beat him to voicing the question that immediately presented, “But how do you find that out?!”
“Oh heavens you two! I don't bloody know! There's not exactly a recipe for it. I mean, I am brilliant and all that, but I'm not a walking encyclopedia! I dunno, Cassie here seems to be well on his way to experimenting with that issue as we speak and if all else fails, you could just do what the kids these days always do and Google it,” Balthazar replied exasperatedly, elbowing Claire in the side with an insufferable grin. She squirmed away as he touched upon a ticklish spot but it didn't keep her from dramatically rolling her eyes at him and jumping to her feet.
“Well, in that case, I wanna get a closer look at this guy, seeing as he's gonna be my step-dad or whatever!” With that, Claire bounced her eyebrows challengingly at Balthazar and Cas, grinned teasingly and sped off.
“Claire, wait--!” Cas protested as he shot up from the bed. He was starting to feel panic set in all over again, along with his protective instincts and strangely enough, a minor tinge of jealousy. He didn't think he was quite ready to share Dean with his family yet; he wanted to keep their first meeting (at least as humans) private. There was still the shadow of fear in the back of his mind that Dean would reject him once he knew the truth.
“Ahh, she'll be fine. She won't do anything to give you away, Cassie. She's a smart kid, takes after me, I think!” Balthazar assured with a mischievous smirk, patting Cas on the shoulder consolingly. “Still, though, you may want to keep an eye on her, seeing as how she does take after me means she's a bit of an imp!”
At this admonishment, Cas huffed nervously and raced out the door after his wayward daughter, Balthazar cackling merrily behind him.
“Don't help or anything!” Cas called out over his shoulder in annoyance, which only prompted louder laughter from his equally wayward, idiot brother. He continued on, hurrying down the neatly kept path that led down from the clusters of cabins to the village common areas. Towards the bottom, he spied a messy pile of clothes that he recognized as Claire's, dumped on the front porch of the cabin she shared with her mother, Amelia.
Stripping off his sweatpants and throwing them next to Claire's garments he shifted quickly into his fur and trotted down the path until he reached the edge of the commune and ducked into the jungle, picking up Claire's scent almost immediately. Easily following her delicate, as of yet unpresented scent, he quickly tracked her to a quarter mile out from the commune.
The early morning fog hadn't completely burned off yet and there was still a low layer creeping through the undergrowth. Cas' sharp shifter senses allowed him to scent Dean before he actually saw him and he could smell the acridness of his mate's anxiety and wariness. Feeling his own anxiety ratchet up in response, he picked up his pace, slinking forward til he caught Claire's scent once more and could see both his daughter and Dean.
His mate was crouched down, silent and still, like he was trying to make himself look smaller, non-threatening. Cas could tell by Claire's scent that she wasn't at all afraid and was having a good time playfully intimidating Dean. His alpha instincts bristled up protectively, no one would threaten his mate! And even though, rationally, Cas knew that Claire wasn't a threat, he still didn't like the pungent smell of Dean's distress. It was plain to see that Dean was unharmed, merely nervous at the appearance of a leopard that wasn't Cas coming into such close quarters with him.
Staying low to the ground, Cas circled around the two, til he came up behind Dean; Claire, who was fifteen feet away or so from Dean, suddenly stopped and froze, scenting the air heavily before relaxing as she recognized Cas' scent.
“Dad! I know you're there, I can smell you! Come on out already,” Claire called out telepathically through their mind link, amusement lacing her sarcastic tone.
Mildly annoyed, he stalked towards his impertinent offspring, brushing past his mate as he did so, catching a quick glimpse of Dean's startled face.
“You and Balthazar are like two troublesome peas in a pod,” Cas complained as he scented Claire, licking her cheek and rubbing alongside her.
“Aww c'mon Dad! Don't go all protective alpha on me! I didn't do anything to him. Everything's fine, see?” Claire whined, even as she bared her neck for Cas sniff at. “Besides, you can't blame me for wanting to check this guy out, remember the poachers last year?”
“Yes, I do. Dean is nothing like them.” Cas reassured, though still displeased at her antics.
“Yeah, I know, he's actually cute and he smells really good!” Claire snickered, making kissing noises at him. “Like sexy apple pie!”
“Claire--” Cas cut off, embarrassed, but he was interrupted by the sound of low-level growling (well below the hearing range of a normal human), even as he was hit by a wave of Dean's scent, which was positively boiling with fear...panic...and jealousy? Was Dean feeling threatened and jealous of Claire? The little amount of blood that Dean had consumed must've worked even faster than he'd anticipated, which only bolstered his belief that Dean was indeed his truemate.
“Dad, is he growling?! Why is he growling?” Claire's hushed tone betrayed her mild unease.
Concerned and somewhat surprised at his mate's display of possessiveness, he darted up to Dean, with Claire hot on his heels; by the look of consternation that flitted through Dean's eyes Cas was almost certain that Dean wasn't aware that he was snarling like he was, or of the reason why. The scent of his mate's discomfort was especially triggering to Cas' alpha instincts and he hastened to crowd into Dean's personal space, nuzzling his mate's cheek as soothingly as he could.
He felt Dean curve inwards to his touch and take in a deep breath and realized that whether Dean knew it or not, he was scenting Cas and drawing comfort from the primal action. As his mate relaxed, so did Cas, feeling the tension lessen in both of them. Claire, too, calmed and when Dean leaned back a bit from Cas, she engaged him in a staring contest which Dean aggressively returned, gazing back at her challengingly until Claire finally conceded defeat, breaking it off with a little snort, as satisfaction emanated strongly from Dean.
“I like him, Dad. He's feisty, unlike you!” Claire teased, with a twinkle in her eyes, flicking her tail and headbutting Cas giddily on the shoulder.
“Oh yeah? He passed your test, hmm?” Cas huffed, feeling a bit giddy himself, mostly from nerves but also from winning Claire's approval.
Dean's distress had minimized with his proximity to Cas, but was still present to a degree, so for Dean's sake and Cas' own peace of mind, he pushed back into Dean's space once more, rubbing his cheek on both sides of his mate's face, privately amazed at how quickly and immeasurably it seemed to calm Dean. Cas proceeded to thoroughly mark him, finishing off with a decisive lick right under Dean's left ear. Edging back so he could see Dean's face, Cas was greatly pleased to behold Dean smiling contentedly, his scent changing to a sweet, mellow amalgam of his base tones of cinnamon, apples, that aroma of fresh rain falling on dry soil, and heady sunshine threaded through with complimentary notes of relief, pride and happiness. Cas could also see a few of same the reddish-purple marks that matched his own, peeking out from above the collar of Dean's t-shirt, leftover from the...errr...heated incident this morning and grinned exultantly to himself.
More than satisfied, Cas stepped back, nudging at Dean's shoulder fondly as he did so, glancing at Claire briefly to see her trying to wrinkle her nose and stifle a giggle at the same time.
“What?” Cas demanded, suddenly feeling flustered that his daughter had seen him having such an intimate moment with his mate.
“Geez Dad! Why don't you just pee on his pant leg already?!” Claire sniggered.
Tamping down his embarrassment, he rolled his eyes and tried to project an air of maturity before dashing off into the undergrowth, confident that both Dean and Claire would follow after him, calling out behind him, “You'll understand when--”
“When I'm older, yeah, yeah, I know,” Claire retorted flippantly as she caught up to him and then accelerated past him, racing off towards the commune.
Cas humphed grumpily and picked up his speed. Children.
Claire was standing in front of her cabin, back in her skin and already redressed, tapping her foot impatiently when Cas trotted up to her.
“C'mon Dad! Hurry up! He'll be here any minute!” Claire exclaimed excitedly, tossing Cas' sweatpants to him.
“What about a shirt or shoes?” Cas questioned agitatedly, ducking around the side of the cabin to shift into his skin and yank on the pants.
“Balthazar was right, you look fine like this, plus it's hot out, plenty of people are shirtless,” Claire informed him, fiddling with the braids and feathers in her blonde hair restlessly.
“I can't believe I'm entrusting my fashion sense to the pair of you,” Cas grumbled, trying to cover up his nerves with surliness.
Claire saw through him, however and merely stuck her tongue out and rolled her eyes at him. “It'll be fine, Dad, you'll see.”
Claire surged ahead of him, chanting, “C'mon, c'mon, c'mon! I can smell him from here!” Cas could scent Dean too, and his apprehension and elation at finally getting to meet Dean in his skin went skyhigh.
As far ahead as she was, he could tell when Claire spotted Dean, she abruptly slowed down and assumed an air of cool sophistication, as only girls who are thirteen going on fourteen can do. Cas followed a bit more sedately, trying to get a handle on his slightly panicked breathing and jittery nerves.
This was it.
Before he could even blink, let alone think of anything to say, Dean was right smack in front of them, smelling wonderful as usual and eyeing everything around him with fascination and curiosity and Claire was striding right up to him purposefully.
“Hi, I'm Claire and this is Cas,” Claire proclaimed with no prelude and Cas was inordinately grateful that she was taking the lead, since he was nearly beside himself with the strain of the situation.
Dean, returned her greeting and introduced himself as well, smiling shyly at Claire before switching his gaze to Cas.
And everything seemed to just stop.
It was like yesterday morning when they'd met by the rocks, a truly profound moment, where everything fell perfectly into place. He could feel Dean's gaze roaming all over him, like a physical touch, taking him in completely. Cas felt self-conscious and feverish in a way he never did while in his fur, his nerves going haywire, timidly wondering what Dean thought of him, (God, he should have put on a shirt, Dean probably thought he was a shirtless weirdo!) yet once again, as had occurred the day before, his concerns were effortlessly allayed when Dean beamed at him beatifically and drew in close, holding his hand out to shake. Cas smiled back timorously and clasped Dean's hand somewhat awkwardly at first but immediately relaxed when he felt the shockwave of energy that traveled back and forth through their fingers as soon as they touched, their newly formed mating bond resulting in a pleasurable feedback loop of rightness. He glanced down at their entwined hands and his nerves finally melted as a sense of home and mates permeated him entirely. He could tell Dean felt something too by the way he was also staring at their joined hands and smiling in bewildered amazement.
Cas forgot (as Dean seemed to also) that he was supposed to actually shake Dean's hand as part of the greeting and just stood there essentially holding hands with his mate, the two of them smiling delightedly at each other while Claire peered back and forth between them, her earlier composure totally eschewed in favor of an ecstatic grin that threatened to split her cheeks.
“Dad! Say something! You're just standing there smiling like a doof!” Cas heard Claire's enthusiastic voice in his head through their mind-link and eventually remembered that saying 'hello' back was part of a standard introduction and opened his mouth to finally say the words he'd wanted to say out loud since yesterday morning, truly, since the first time he laid eyes on his mate:
“Hello, Dean.”