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Dean looks down at his phone for what feels like the 200th time today, only to find another text from Sam about how Halfling rights aren't as established as everyone thinks they are, and even though Halfling Americans were freed around the same time as African Americans, using the same laws, speciesism is still rampant all over America. It goes on to say in most cases speciesism is even more common and executed with more horrible action than racism today.
Dean appreciates his brother keeping him informed, but he already knows all of this. It's obvious in his every day life. He's broken up more fights that should've ended in a hate crime lawsuit against the offender, than he can count. But in Kansas, hate crimes against Halfling people usually get thrown out or there's only a small fine anyway so it's not even really worth the pursuit.
Even at the grocery store Dean is currently shopping in right now, he's seen Halfling people go through all kinds of shit that is totally unacceptable and inappropriate, even though the owner and all the cashiers are for Halfling rights and do their best to deny service to anyone who isn't. They still have the periodic scowler, or disgusting comments about how ‘that kind' shouldn't be served here. It makes Dean sick. They're people, and nine times out of ten, they're awesome people.
Dean also knows he is getting this Halfling rights schpeal from Sam on this fine day, because Sam found a bunch of Cecelia porn on Dean's computer, which he was using without permission. Dean should really do better at covering that up, but if Sam would've asked, he could've deleted his browser history before Sam got an eyeful of some tentacle on human DP, and maybe that is what Sam gets for not asking permission. Though it would be a shame to delete that most recent link he found and not be able to find it again. Maybe Sam knows he probably would've seen it anyway and it's Dean's punishment to have to read through all these Halfling facts Dean already knows.
Empty handed of any actual groceries yet, because he's scoping out the isles and trying to decide if he needs a full push basket or just a handheld one, Dean starts skimming through the articles Sam provided to back up his facts. He's actually included a sources cited page and it only cements the fact that Sam is the biggest nerd Dean has ever met. Dean turns a corner and BAM! He slams right into a big mess of colorful tentacles.
He hits the ground and the other guy barely catches himself, almost spilling the contents of his handheld basket. When their eyes meet, Dean feels like he's struck again, only this time the wind is just knocked out if him by the color blue. He's speechless, he barely stutters out his own name with his hand to his chest.
The Ceceilea Halfling is no longer flailing and has righted himself to hover over Dean. He has stoic features but the colors of his tentacles blend together in a kaleidoscope of dark blues and purples, none of which compare to the bright sky blue of his piercing eyes. He looks Dean over appraisingly, and seems to like what he sees, but doesn't answer. Dean figures maybe he doesn't speak English, it's rare since English is such a simple language to learn compared to Ceceilean. Most Ceceileans learn to speak it fluently within a few weeks, but it could happen. Dean tries to speak a little Ceceilean that he's picked up over the years. He's not very good at it, but he gets by. He's best at saying his own name, which is one of the more simple words in the complicated series of clicks and whistles that make up the vernacular.
The Ceceilea's eyes widen and a flash of amusement flits across his beautiful face. Dean thinks he can make out a tone of surprise in the Ceceilea's response, though it's harder for him to tell when he can barely understand all the words. "You speak Cecaelian?"
Only Dean could accomplish stuttering through a language comprised of mostly clicking sounds, but he manages to get out a full sentence. “I only sss-peak a little. I-I’m not very good.”
To Dean's surprise and elation, they're smiling at each other, and though this guy's grin is small and tight, it conveys a lot of emotion through such a small variation of facial muscles. Dean follows the line of thought from genuine contentment to something else in his eyes and, before he knows it, the beautiful Ceceilea is shaking his head and dispelling the happy trance they seemed to be under.
The timber of his voice when speaking English is so much lower and sexier than Dean was expecting and he barely registers what the words mean, let alone put together a response. “I have to go.”
Before Dean can argue, or get the guy's number, or anything, he's gone. And damn, Cecealia are fast. There's no way he'll be able to catch up now. He must've spooked him or something because his basket full of artificial crab meat and duct tape of all things, lays abandoned on the linoleum floor. And this ain't exactly Cinderella here. He can't go around trying to match his Cecealia with a roll of gorilla tape and some canned seafood. Not that Prince Charming should've needed a damn slipper to recognize the supposed love of his life after being with her for hours, but he doesn't have time to pick apart sexist storylines at the moment. He's still got shopping to do.
Days later, try as he might, Dean can't get the guy out of his head. As stupid as he feels for admitting it to himself, he'd had an instant connection with him. He tried to convince himself it was just attraction, but he's been hot for plenty of people and always has been able to move on easily. Anyone else with that short of an interaction with Dean wouldn't even be a blip on the radar. No, this is different. Dean knows he's screwed and he has no idea what to do about it.
The only answer is to find the guy. It can't be that hard in Kansas right? There aren't even that many Cecealia that live here. Except, maybe there are and they just aren't very social.
Two weeks. Though he'll never admit it and has been hiding it from everyone he knows, Dean's been searching for his mysterious Ceceilea for two entire weeks with nothing to show for it. Fed up with the search, Dean grabs a handheld basket from the store that's been haunting him since that day. Or really, Dean's been haunting that store. He's been going there every day, hoping to catch a glimpse of tentacles again, replenishing the abandoned items from last time. For all he knows the guy will never come back.
There's no way he'd be shopping this early in the morning anyway, the entire place is practically vacant. Dean's only there at 7am because if he was home, he'd be typing in far too specific searches online for dark haired, blue eyed, Cecealia porn. He'd gotten nothing but frustration when none of the results came close enough to the vivid image in his mind of icy blue surrounded by deep purple, azure, and cobalt. Yeah, Dean actually looked up the words to describe the right colors, and ok, physical attraction may have been a big factor in not being able to move on.
A trace of the exact colors Dean is picturing catches his sight out of the corner of his eye. He hasn't been noticed yet and he takes a calming breath so he can decide how to approach the guy without freaking him out. He tucks himself behind some shelves and peaks around them to watch the seamless glide of the tentacles as they carry the broad torso of the man through the store. The Ceceilea is wearing a dark blue, almost black blazer over a light blue button up and the way it complements his eyes and the ever shifting colors of his appendages, makes Dean swoon just a bit.
He watches, mesmerized, and finds himself quietly following the guy around the store while he finishes up getting what looks like breakfast. Kinda odd he would come here just for a meal, especially this early in the morning but it actually looks like a pretty good spread, and maybe lunch too. Dean hasn't really gotten himself anything and he can't exactly talk to the guy empty handed. It's gotta feel organic and unplanned and Dean has no idea how he's going to pull that off without looking like a total creep. He grabs a loaf of bread off a shelf by him and moves to the next isle quietly while the Ceceilea drifts through the store perusing the bottled drinks and no doubt looking for the last ingredient to his breakfast.
By the time the Ceceilea is paying for his food, Dean has grabbed a hodgepodge of random items as he's followed the guy through his morning routine. He still hasn't figured out a good enough way to approach the guy and he's running out of time. He watches subtly as his chance goes out the window, or rather the door, as the guy leaves none the wiser that Dean was even there. Dean pays for his mess of groceries he doesn't need without really even seeing what everything is. He's feeling pretty defeated now that he let his chance slip away so easily after all this time building up to it.
He walks outside, totally expecting to never see the guy again, only to find him sitting in the driver's seat of an old Lincoln Continental delicately biting into the breakfast sandwich he had put together inside the store. He's eating in his car. Dean still has a chance! He racks his brain for an idea of how he could strike up a conversation without totally spooking the guy. He could just walk up with a ‘fancy meeting you here’ line. But with no incentive to stay, the guy could easily be weirded out by that and take off. He could ask for help with something. But he doesn't actually need help with anything and as soon as the guy figures that out he could again get weirded out and just take off. He could try to offer helping with something. But this guy seems overly capable if helping himself.
While Dean is caught up in fruitless schemes, the Ceceilea finishes his meal and starts his car. Dean might not be very creative, but he's determined as hell. Maybe if he follows the guy to somewhere else other than the grocery store, he could find an easier in. He rushes to his car, throws the few bags he's carrying into the back seat, and tries to will his beautiful engine to be quiet while starting up this time. His classic 67’ Impala isn't exactly the best option for tailing someone unnoticed, but the guy didn't seem any the wiser as he cautiously pulls out of his space.
Dean follows at what he feels is a pretty safe space and it's not long before they end up at the local University. Dean tries to think of any reason for him to be on campus. Really, he has no interest in the school. Sammy is the smart one and he went to Stanford, before he decided he didn't need as long of a degree for the field he wanted, and moved back home to Kansas. Dean has no reason to be here. He stays a safe distance as he watches the old but sturdy car that he's been following turn into the faculty parking lot. He's a teacher. Dean's struck with flash of student-teacher fantasies involving rulers, glasses, and a not so innocent bout for extra credit.
Half hard and embarrassed as all hell, Dean drives right past the guy as his pimp mobile is inching into a parking space. He decides to devise an actual plan while he's at work and try his luck that night. He's gotta be able to figure out a good reason to be at a school, that won't fall apart as a lie later, while also not making him end up committing to anything like taking actual classes. He's got all day to figure it out. He'll think of something.
Six hours. Though, to be fair, it has actually been a fairly busy work day, six hours is still way too long for Dean to fail at coming up with a plan. He's got nothing. Every scenario he plays out in his head ends in disaster. If he wasn't so deep in it now he'd give up for sure. Either way, he can't keep going like this. His coworkers have to pull him from his thoughts about ten times to make sure he doesn't hurt himself or totally fuck up the car he is working on. He even has a stern talk about being a daydreaming idgit from his boss Bobby before saying he's taking his lunch hour at the end of the work day so he can get out of everyone's hair. He is useless like this. He has to talk to this Ceceilea guy and get whatever this is out of his system.
He ends up parked near the faculty lot again, but he still doesn't have the guts to talk to the guy. Especially now that he's essentially stalked him and has no organic way to bump into him there. He watches as this wet dream of a person glides smoothly along the sidewalk to his car and slips inside. Dean isn't sure why the guy chooses to eat in his car, but that seems to be exactly what he's doing again, until he's flagged down by an eager student. The young girl leans closely into the Ceceilea's window, a little too closely if you ask Dean, and it doesn't take long for Dean to realize she's attempting to flirt. Dean should really just look away, just leave this guy to his life of endless opportunities with whoever he wants, and move the fuck on. If only the tight knot, which Dean vaguely recognizes as jealously, wasn't getting worse as he fails to tear his eyes away from the blatant display before him.
To his relief, when the girl steps back looking a bit affronted, the Ceceilea looks completely unaffected, oblivious really. Dean has to roll his eyes at himself for finding that adorable, because it’s certainly not helping him to find new things he likes about the guy. The student stomps off while Blue Eyes, as he's now calling him, digs back into his late lunch. Even the sight of food makes Dean's stomach growl and he curses himself for forgoing a proper meal earlier. Blue Eyes brushes the crumbs from his hands and lap, then gracefully starts his car. Dean has already resigned himself to the fact that he'll be following this blue eyed wonder, even if it is to the guys house, and he crosses over into true stalker territory. Honestly, if this thing actually works out, and they end up together, he has no idea how he's going to explain or justify any of his actions, but it's too late. He's come too far. He's going down with this ship.
He waits until Blue Eyes is far enough down the road that he probably won't hear the roar of his engine. Even in this circumstance he can't fault his Baby for sounding so pretty when her engines gets going. It's really too bad she isn't sentient and he can't just date his beloved car instead of chasing down random dudes from the grocery store, but here we are. He only lets one car get between them at any given time and watches closely for unexpected turns. The guy’s a very cautious driver and it makes it incredibly easy to tail him. He ends up stopping in the parking lot of a conference building. The signs out front say something about Cecelia Language and History, as well as some other Halfling subjects, and Dean realizes Sam sent him a link to this event when he was still being extra preachy about Hanging rights. Dean had to physically shake Sam and explain that he's preaching to the freaking choir and he needs to knock it off already.
Dean pulls out his phone to see if he can get in somehow, that would definitely be a nice ice breaker. He pulls up the event center page only to be met with ‘Sold Out' next to every ticket. Maybe Lawrence Kansas wasn't as bad as he thought if something like this can sell out, but that leaves Dean without any options that don't come right out of a sitcom. His stomach growls again, and he looks around to find what seems like a pretty nice bar and grill across the street. He's ashamed to say his thoughts immediately take him to the fact that he can clearly see the parking lot from the bar windows, and if he requests a window seat, then he could watch the parking lot for when Blue Eyes leaves. He could then continue what the denial in his head considers his pursuit for the perfect place to ‘coincidentally' bump into him.
He lucks out with a window seat which has the perfect view of Blue Eyes' car and he proceeds to order enough food for two. He decides to stick to just one beer so he can stay sharp. All he'd need to completely ruin his night would be getting distracted and missing Blue Eyes leave to a more convenient location to make his move, or whatever his brain is telling himself he's still following the guy for. He savors his food and reluctantly switches to house root beer as he trails his sights to the parking lot far too often. A couple hours go by and if it had been busier, he would've felt bad for his waitress, but he already knows he's going to keep his promise of a big tip for the busty blond who asked him to refill his drink a few to many times to be subtle. If he hadn't had weeks of tortuous fantasies of blue eyes and multiple strong arms surrounding him, he'd definitely be hitting on blondie. To his dismay, and her’s by the look of it, he can't bring himself to be even a little bit interested in her. Not when Professor Blue Eyes sits just across the street either attending or participating in a seminar for something Dean vehemently supports. Blue Eyes is smart, beautiful, and Dean hopes to every God he can think of that he's single.
After what feels like an eternity later, people start filling out of the convention entrance, all talking excitedly with each other as they head to their cars. It’s just starting to get darker outside as twilight approaches, and Dean thanks himself for not actually finishing his meal. If he had, he'd be stuffed and that could've dulled his senses as much as a few more beers would have. He pays quickly and hurries to the door, barely hearing the waitress call out to him that he needs his change. In his distracted state he might've doubled the bill, but he did promise her a good tip and the places prices are so low anyway that it really doesn't break the bank at all. He takes a quick moment to check the name of the place so he can come back. Louise’s West, odd name but easy enough to remember. He gets to his car as throngs of people are still pouring out of the building across the street, and he prays he doesn't miss the one he's looking for. He starts his car with less worry about it being heard this time and idles while he waits for the crowd to thin out enough to see Blue Eyes' car again. People slowly pull out of the lot while Dean waits as patiently as he can to catch a glimpse of the Ceceilea emerging.
He gets a bit discouraged when the lot is mostly empty, and that white pimp mobile Blue Eyes drives is still sitting pretty in the front row. It'll be dark in less than an hour and Dean will need to step up his game to follow this car in the dark. He finally sees Blue Eyes laughing with another Professor-type, and even from across the small street, Dean swoons at his laugh. It's still tight and controlled but at the same time, open and sincere. The man in the sweater vest places his hand on the Ceceilea's shoulder and Dean's jealousy knot flares up again. His worries are eased when Blue Eyes bids the man goodnight and heads back to his car. It takes a moment for him to get settled and pull out of the, now completely empty, parking lot and Dean easily pulls behind him to continue the pursuit. Dean knows he's definitely a stalker now and he should have turned back a long time ago. Maybe he should've just gone back to the grocery store later and attempted to nut up and actually run into the guy there. But those weeks without seeing him are haunting his logical brain and blocking out any reasonable thoughts like that.
As they get further and further from the bustling city, he realizes they're going into a pretty wooded area that he didn't even know was out here. It actually isn't that far from the more populated area they just drove through, but they might as well be driving onto in the middle of nowhere. Dean let's Blue Eyes turn down a small road and passes him to not get caught, but he quickly doubles back and takes the same turn with his lights off. He sees a nice-looking house pretty far down the road with just enough light to see it’s made of mostly windows. He pulls over, almost too far away to make out anything, and if it isn't for the last bit of twilight sun hanging onto the sky he would have no idea the house is even there. In fact, if he thinks about it, this place has to be the most secluded little woodsy area that exists near the town. It's the perfect little haven down a road no one would even know is there.
He turns off his engine and sits in the quiet, trying to stop himself from the next move he's obviously going to take. He hesitates for a minute, considering the risks over and over, then discounting them with the recurring thought that Blue Eyes is just too interesting and enthralling to watch. He cringes as the creak of his door breaks the silence of the approaching night, and tries to shut it as quietly as he can while he crouches down and sneaks closer. It's quite a long walk down the barely paved street and he tries to stay next to the tree line while the house starts to light up from the inside. He can see details much clearer and he knows he probably shouldn't get so close, but he ends up still hidden by the thick trees but with a perfect view of the living room that opens to the kitchen.
Dean sees, what he assumes to be a salt water pool out back and takes in the tasteful design of the Ceceilea's home. He watches as Blue Eyes putters around the house for a while picking up stray books and tidying up the couch pillows. Dean finds a perch on a thick fallen log and watches as the last of the sunlight fading into darkness makes everything in the clearly lit home pop against the backdrop of the night. Dean shivers and wonders how long he's going to creep on this poor unsuspecting guy before he guiltily heads home to plan his next move. His berating and delinquent thoughts are interrupted by Blue Eyes opening his hall closet and attempting to drag out something heavy. As the object is pulled into the light, Dean makes out that it's a chair, but Blue Eyes is strong and he's putting way too much effort in just getting out an empty chair from the closet. Once more of the chair is revealed, Dean realizes it's so heavy because it's not empty. There's a freaking guy tied to it.
Dean's first instinct is to call 911, because no good can ever come from a guy tied to a freaking chair. He pulls out his phone before realizing that he's maybe not the best guy to call this in, considering his current position. It doesn't end up making any difference though because the first thing Dean notices is that his phone has zero bars, which wouldn't stop him from making an emergency call, but every time he tries, it immediately fails. He turns his scared gaze back to Psycho Blue Eyes and curses himself for letting it get this far. Maybe he'll actually learn his lesson this time and let some things the freak go. His next thought is to run to the poor guy’s rescue, maybe if he gets him untied and they both go up against the Ceceilea they'll stand a chance. Unlikely, but worth a shot maybe. He leans forward to start creeping towards the house when the guy in the chair’s face comes fully into view.
He'd recognize that smug face anywhere. It definitely has more terror underlying the harsh scowl, but Dean's sure, that is definitely Robert Bertrand, the leader of the Human supremacist group known as the Human Being Klan or HBK. It's an offshoot of the KKK and they often team up against Halflings to a bloody end. Even worse, they recruit from any other organization and as long as you're not considered a Halfling, they'll push you to join their cause. The things this group has done while being led by this pathetic excuse for a human is unspeakable. Dean tries to figure out how the fuck this vile douche is here. Dean didn't even know the guy was missing.
Dean freezes as he watches Blue Eyes continue to putter around the house as if he doesn't have a dangerous kidnap victim yelling terrible things at him that Dean can barely make out from where he's hiding. Dean's stomach turns in disgust at the thought of considering this repulsive person a victim, especially with what he can make out of his rantings. He wishes he couldn't hear any of it because it's some vile shit this asshole is spewing. He's bragging about all the Halflings he's killed himself or had killed, about breaking up their families and sending the children back into slavery. It makes Dean want to hurl.
Dean gets his wish when the sound cuts off abruptly. Dean looks up to realize it's because Blue Eyes has slammed his tentacle so hard on the guy's windpipe that he'll probably never be able to speak again Honestly, that's more of a relief to Dean than anything. He tries to make out what Blue Eyes is saying, but all he can hear is the low timber of the Ceceilea's voice. He's speaking much quieter than the piece of shit tied to the chair was, but even without actually hearing the words, Dean sees how menacing, terrifying, and magnificent Blue Eyes is. The vile douche completely at his mercy, unable to scream for help, not that it mattered all the way out here, is sufficiently scared shitless. Dean watches as strong and steady tentacles creep up Vile Douche's body as he struggles to free himself. Before Dean can fully process what's happening, bones are loudly cracking and the guy is silently screaming in pain as he watches his body be flattened and go limp under him. The last part Blue Eyes crushes is Vile Douche's skull, and his eyes reflect the horror being inflicted on him as the life slowly leaks out of them.
Dean takes a shocked moment to fully take in what he's witnessed. He probably knows how he should feel. Part of him knows that piece of shit in the chair was still a life that got snuffed out before his eyes. The thing is, after everything that guy has said, after everything he's done, Dean can't really feel that sorry for him. He's escaped justice and punishment for so long, it's only right he's taken out this way. He takes in the satisfaction written all over the Ceceilea's face and he can't help but be drawn to him. Dean leans in as his calves start to tire from his perched position. He snaps a twig in front of him and it's so loud he wonders if the damn thing was hooked up to loud speakers somehow. The Cecaelia he just watched crush the life out of someone turns right to Dean and Dean’s stomach, which has already been put through the ringer, drops into his toes. Dean barely has time to think before he's up and running as fast as he can, dodging branches and logs, knowing he's not faster than any Cecaelia.
He makes it behind a tree and tries to catch his breath as quietly as possible, but when he turns to take off running again, he's slammed to the ground. Thick tentacles wrap tightly around him as Blue Eyes looms over him, looking him over. He can't move, he can barely squirm, and his body is taking this situation deep into inappropriate territory, because he should be panicking. After all, he just watched these very tentacles pulverize a human being to death, but those piercing blue eyes and tight strong grip are wreaking havoc on his thought process that should be saying DANGER and instead is saying FUCK ME!
Realization dawns on the Ceceilea's face and he says, "Dean?"
Fuck, he remembers Dean's damn name. It was the only thing he could choke out in that grocery store. He should know he's probably a dead man, but all he can think about his how sexy his name sounds coming out of this guy's mouth…and this guy's mouth…fuck, everything about him is perfect.
He scrutinizes Dean and leans in as he says, "You followed me here. Why?"
Dean can't speak, again... damn his vocal cords locking up on him. Blue Eyes looks down Dean's body and Dean bucks up involuntarily.
He slightly tightens his grip and in a confused voice says, "You're aroused."
And what the fuck is Dean supposed to say to that? Because yeah, he's hard as a fucking rock and can do fuckall about it. Which actually makes it that much hotter. Suddenly the hold on him loosens and is gone as they continue to stare at each other. He irrationally mourns the loss of those tentacle’s tight grip on his body.
Blue Eyes looks calm, almost wistful as he says "You saw what I did."
Even though it's more of a statement than a question, Dean still feels compelled to shake his head. He wants to deny ever seeing anything, but something is holding him back. Blue Eyes lets a small smile play on his lips as he says "You're a terrible liar."
Dean focuses his gaze and wills words to form. He finally gets out, "I'm actually an excellent liar, maybe I just don't want to lie to you."
It's too honest, what the hell is he doing? Digging himself a nice forest grave, that's what.
Blue Eyes continues, "You saw who I did that to."
Again, it's not a question, but Dean nods anyway. Blue Eyes looks pleased with that response but doesn't answer. The silence and tension builds until Dean can't take it anymore and he blurts out the only thing he can think of, "How?"
Blue Eyes looks intrigued and complacent at the same time, he knows what Dean is asking, but he asks for clarification anyway. "How?"
Dean's mouth gets ahead of him and he rushes out, "How did you do it? How did you get him here? I didn't even know he was missing and somehow he's all the way out here where no one will ever find him, how?"
The Cecaelia's amusement grows as he says, "You almost sound impressed."
Dean can't help but scoff before he blurts out, "Fuck yeah I'm impressed! The fucking leader of the human supremacist group, the guy who orchestrated mass genocide on an entire species, hell, on multiple species, the guy that kept slavery alive in like 5 countries, the guy that lead riots that killed and injured Halflings and humans alike, is in your fucking kitchen! How in the hell did you possibly get him here?"
The small grin on the Ceceilea's face grows throughout Dean's rant. He looks down rather smugly and says nonchalantly, "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
Dean's jaw drops and he scoffs again. "Look, I know what I saw, that was Robert fucking Bertrand in the flesh. If he's here, then the story of how he got here has to be a crazy one."
Blue Eyes appraises Dean again but doesn't look worried, or intimidating. His eyes are sparkling with mirth as he says, "I am a loner in general, but I do have friends in some rather high places, and we were able to coordinate capture discreetly. After which, he was taken to a shipping facility and promptly delivered to one of my addresses where I was able to retrieve him and bring him here."
Dean deadpans, "You had him mailed to you?"
Blue Eyes smiles and nods as he replies, and Dean can't help but swoon again over that little change in facial expression that expresses so much. "That is correct."
Dean can't wrap his head around that, and it must show because Blue Eyes concedes and elaborates, "It is not uncommon for Ceceilea to have scuba tanks delivered to their homes. Many of my kind like to share the water with humans and therefore accrue the proper supplies to do so. He was sedated and fitted with an oxygen mask and delivered before the air supply was depleted."
Dean shakes his head in disbelief but also he believes every damn word. The Cecaelia smiles again before saying, "Careful now, you're looking impressed again."
Dean can't help the somewhat shocked smile as he looks up at the guy who took down one of the scariest fuckers on the planet without breaking a sweat. He must look like such a dope right now because Blue Eyes shakes his head fondly before saying, "It's unfortunate for me that you are a good person. It means I cannot kill you, even though you now know far too much."
Dean's brain must not be firing on all cylinders because he doesn't feel any fear or concern for his life when he replies, "You only kill bad guys?"
Blue Eyes nods as if he is admitting to something far less incriminating. "Yes. I always determine guilt before I act. I concede it is possible to be put in a position where you represent something you don't actually believe in and are forced to play a part put upon you. In those instances, punishment should be less severe. That was obviously not the case here."
Dean can't help but agree as he says, "Yeah, obviously."
He pauses before asking his next question, "So.... how many people have you killed?"
And what is Dean's life right now? Blue Eyes considers the question for a moment and replies, "I suppose there's no harm in telling you, if I am to face the consequences of my actions I may as well be honest about them. I've killed seven evil creatures. The majority in other countries but three were here within US borders. Though, what remains of them are not all within those boarders."
Dean can't help but marvel at seven people who escaped justice every other way, but fell to this beautiful being. Even through the awe he's experiencing, his thoughts are stuck on something else Blue Eyes had said, "Wait, you think I'm turning you in?"
The Cecaelia looks surprised, but pleased, and somewhat questioning as he asks, "Are you not? I have no leverage to prevent you from telling anyone."
Dean shakes his head slowly. Suddenly Blue Eyes turns predatory and he's on Dean in a millisecond, wrapping up and caressing Dean's entire body with his tentacles. He leans in close and whispers, "And it has nothing to do with your exceptionally sized erection?"
Dean struggles to catch his breath. Blue Eyes is spot on, Dean's dick filled up so fast he's dizzy from it and he's actually flattered by the compliment.
He manages to croak out, "That might have a very small, tiny, insignificant part in it. B-but mostly it's cuz I think that pathetic excuse for a person finally got what he deserved."
Blue Eyes leans in ever closer and his lips graze Dean's ear as he speaks, making all of Dean's muscles tense with arousal, "I would like to take you to bed Dean. I would like to spend days worshipping your spectacular body and getting to know your exceptional mind. But I have a mess to clean up, and you surely have friends and family who would search for you and find you here."
Dean's mind can barely comprehend what Blue Eyes is saying as his limbs curl around Dean's oversensitive body. "However, if you would like that, if you wish for me to ravage your body until it's so spent that it can no longer supply the cum to match your orgasms...then you will go home, get a hearty meal and a good night's rest, and 'bump into me' again tomorrow afternoon at the supermarket.”
Somehow the finger quotes Blue Eyes does just bump up Dean's arousal. He leans in again, pressing himself to Dean's body and slightly tightening his arms around him like slippery ropes. “You can fill me."
Dean can't help but release a whimper as he feels the Ceceilea's hot breath on his neck. "Or I can fill you."
Now Dean can't help but let out a full on moan, making his preference obvious to the Ceceilea's delight. "You are an extraordinary one, aren't you. You would like that, wouldn't you Dean?"
Dean can't help but nod furiously and as the Ceceilea's tentacles slip away, leaving his body limp and buzzing with arousal, he has just enough cognitive function to squeak out, "Your name, I-I don't know your name."
He's stunned with desire as the last tips of suckers detach from his skin and he hears the low rumble of the Ceceilea's voice say "Castiel."
He's left there, on his back in the woods, trying to catch his breath. As soon as his wobbly legs are stable again, he books it to his baby. She's still parked sufficiently away and his legs burn from the effort by the time he gets there. The entire drive home he wills himself to resist the urge to jerk off, knowing he won't be able to help going to town the second he gets home. He hears his phone ding with a few messages as he drives out of the non-service area Castiel's hidden home is tucked into. He sees all the messages are from Sam, asking where he is. He waits for a stop light and types out a quick message. He says he went out for a late lunch because he has no food in his house and he lost track of time, but he just plugged his phone back in to charge. He adds that he still needs to go grocery shopping, but he'll put it off until tomorrow, so they should get pizza for dinner later. He receives a quick reply saying Sam's glad he's ok and Dean should be ashamed of how much food he can put away in a day. He laughs as he types out one word ‘Bitch’ and puts his phone down at the green light. He hears an answering ding, knowing the word ‘Jerk' is his brother's only reply, and thinks to himself what delights await him when he inevitably runs into Castiel again the next day, and hopefully many more days after that.