Flame

It was a dark and stormy night... Yeah right, Dean snorted, as he drove his Baby along the road. It actually was, it was raining so hard that he couldn't see properly, and he was having a jolly time steering on the slippery, muddy road. And the fuck was he doing there anyway? He was somewhere fuckwards-away, in the middle of nowhere, in weather that made average storms look sissy. What the hell was he thinking?

But he did have a good reason to be here. Fighting with your too-smart-for-his-own-good giant of a little brother did count as a good reason, even if said fight was the same old, lame argument between an Alpha big brother and a Beta little brother. See, Sam was convinced that Dean should just choose a mate and settle down to start a family, as if it was that simple - choose and mate, snap-crackle-and-pop, done. Sam was probably mainly annoyed that Dean used to sleep around a lot and wasn't that picky about his bedmate's private parts, but that didn't mean he would (Could? Should?) choose just anyone. For starters, none of his partners had smelled just right. He had tried to explain it to Sam (again), and had been faced with eye-rolling (again). As smart as he was, as a Beta, Sam was hopelessly at a loss when trying to comprehend the myriad aspects regarding an Alpha mating mode. No, he just bitchfaced and said that Dean was a stubborn mule who should just suck it and choose a nice Beta (like Lisa, 'cause Sam liked Lisa).

But Dean didn't want a nice Beta, he wanted an Omega. There was no rational reason for his desire, he had always felt like that. Omegas weren't rare, but not very common either - Dean had met several and had actually had the utmost pleasure of fucking a few. Problem was, no Omega would want to mate and bond with an Alpha who had no steady income and had only gotten himself a GED. Dean was no fool: he knew he was a looker, but looks only got you so far. When it was the Omega who got to choose, he knew he wasn't very high in the rankings. It was frustrating, but there really was nothing he could do about it. The sad thing was that Dean was, in fact, quite a family man, and had hoped for a mate and pups for years now. But as things were, it seemed neither of his wishes were coming true in the near future.

Nevertheless, he had hoped for more from Sam, again. At least by now Sam should've learned to stop interrogating Dean about his plans to find a mate. Dean was slowly and painfully coming to terms with being unmated, and hell if he wanted any reminders of his sad state during the process. He got pissed again and, in his frustration, slammed the gas with a bit too much force. There was a lurching sensation, and then he realized that he was in a ditch.

"Fuck shit fuck fuckin' crap!" He swore, as he scrambled out of the car to assess the damage. "Oh crap, I'm sorry Baby. You're all muddy and shit." He walked around the Impala, checking carefully if everything was okay, and falling over at least twice during the process. Turned out the only thing damaged, along with his jeans, was Dean's pride.

He flipped his phone out of his pocket and checked for reception. None. Great. Just fucking great. He climbed out of the ditch to test if the reception was better on the road, but of course it wasn't. Why would it be? It was just his luck to drive off the road, alone, and in the middle of, wherever. To his left was a dense forest he had absolutely no wish to venture to, and to his right was a flatland or something. Nature, whatever, and what's with that smell? Dean shook his head and wiped water from his face. He still couldn't see shit. He was soaking wet, his boots were full of mud and water, and he really would've liked to get out of the rain, fuck you very much. Poor Baby was in a ditch, and as much as Dean wanted, he just couldn't crawl inside. 'Cause first, he really should try to find some help, and second, cleaning all the mud would be a bitch.

He hadn't seen any buildings while he drove, so the only logical conclusion was to go forward. He thought that he could at least try to check if there was someone living in this godforsaken area before ruining his Baby's insides. So, walk on it was. Dean sighed. He really, really hated walking. Why were cars created, if they weren't meant to be used? There's no point in walking, you get all sweaty and achy and hungry, and oh fuck, was that a blister on his right heel?

It was getting darker as he stomped along. The road was an unpaved country drive, made with packed dirt, and, well, mud, as it was. Why the hell was it here anyway? It didn't seem to lead anywhere even remotely remarkable, and there sure as hell wasn't a person living nearby. It wasn't even a pleasant experience to drive over all the bumps, for fuck’s sake. Of course it probably had something to do with the fact that it was friggin' flooding, and there really weren't that many roads that would be pleasant in full rain. But, whatever.

The road ascended slightly, and Dean was a bit out of breath when he got to the top. There was... nothing. Not a freakin' thing in front of him. The road curved downhill and went on, and there was absolutely no sign of a fucking house, or anything resembling human habitation that Dean could see. Just the road and whatever the flat land was. It looked like a lake, but lakes didn't usually have tufts of moss and grass growing in the middle, did they? Dean wasn't so sure, since he hadn't grown up near any kind of natural water. He shrugged and decided to go on, just to make sure- it wasn't as if he could get any wetter. He checked his phone for reception (still nothing), and went on.

It was easier to walk downhill, especially when the rain subsided, and Dean started to actually make something out of the landscape in front of him. The road curved slightly to the right, towards what turned out to be a marsh of sorts. It stretched as far as his eyes could see, and, despite its beauty, there was a sense of foreboding hanging over it. Small clouds of mist hovered above it and gave it a dreamy appearance, not that Dean would ever admit it to Sam. Dean didn't do dreamy.

The last drops of rain dribbled gradually away and the air cleared. It was still dark and as Dean checked his phone (zero reception, damn), he noticed it was almost midnight. There should've been more light when clouds drifted away, Dean frowned, until he saw the thin crescent moon hanging low in the sky. Right, a waning moon. Wouldn't give him a crap worth of light, but at least it looked sort of nice.

He was stumbling along the road when a flicker of light caught his eye. "What the heck-" He frowned and turned to look more closely. It was a small flicker of blue light, like the flame of an old gas lantern. No matter how he squinted, he couldn't catch sight of whomever was holding the light, so he hollered, "Hey! Hello! Anybody there?”

The light flashed minutely, and started to move. Shit, that was somebody! Dean breathed. Maybe he would get to dry off, or at least finally get some help. One could always hope. Dean started to walk briskly towards the marsh and the light. As he drew closer to the waterfront, he was dismayed to notice that the light was further away than he had originally thought. "Figures," he grumbled, but kept on walking.

When he reached the edge of the water, he stopped. No way was he going to swim, no matter how wet he already was. From the corner of his eye he saw the flame flash again, now to his right, and Dean spotted a narrow trail leading across the marshland.

Okay, how weird was that? "Hey, you sure the trail is safe? It's just that I really like my boots, and wouldn't wanna lose them," he called, but got no answer. Strange. His voice wasn't that timid, the dude holding that lantern should've heard him just fine.

A soft breeze blew over the marsh, moving the mist and bringing over an alluring scent. It was like rain, combined with wild rosemary, water lily, and musk. Dean breathed deep, and unconsciously leaned toward it. He had never in his life smelled anything even remotely as wonderful, and he scented it over and over again. It tugged him and pulled something inside him, and he turned to head down the trail without a second thought. A distant alarm went off somewhere in the back of his mind, but somehow it didn't seem important enough to stop.

The marsh was eerily quiet. Dean thought there should've been at least some animals or insects or shit, but he didn't hear zip. It struck him as a bit odd, but hey, he was no marshland expert. He checked his phone for the time (he didn't even expect any reception anymore), and was surprised when it was only a little past midnight. It felt like it was ages ago since he was standing at the road and saw the blue flame for the first time. And speaking of the devil: the flame was slowly and steadily moving down the trail. Dean cursed under his breath and picked up his pace. The dude could at least have the courtesy to wait up.

The further he walked, the more there were ponds of murky water around him. Dean couldn't fathom if any sort of fish lived in those ponds, but it seemed unlikely. They were too shallow, and what kind of a fish would fancy living in a puddle of mud? Not any kind Dean would like to eat, that was for sure. Apart from obvious mud, the marshland was kinda nice. There were lush tussocks of vegetation, sawgrass and cattail and moss, and everything was enveloped in that glorious smell. If marshes were this awesome, Dean would gladly spend more time making the acquaintance of moss.

He stopped for a second to glance behind him, just to see that the trail was gone. His eyes widened. In fact, he didn't see the road anymore, there was only murky water and moss. "Crap," he breathed in alarm. This wasn't good, not good at all. How the hell was he supposed to get back to Baby, if the trail was gone? He turned around, and panicked, when he didn't see the blue flame either. "Oh shit oh shit oh shit," Dean whispered and rubbed his face. No fucking way he could find his own way back, not to mention that wandering around in a friggin' marsh in the middle of the night would be a monumentally idiotic thing to do. He stood frozen in place, pinching the base of his nose, and tried to figure out what the fuck to do.

He was startled out of his musings by a faint rustling sound. He opened his eyes and turned around to see a young man standing a short distance away. He was a pale, fragile looking thing with dark messy hair and piercing blue eyes. He was clad in a tunic, a wispy and clingy see-through thingy that honestly couldn't be very warm. And he smelled fucking amazing. Dean's jaw dropped when it dawned on him that the source of the scent stood right in front of him, looking him right in the eye.

An Omega. In heat.

Without warning, a flood of Alpha imperative washed over him, nearly knocking him to his knees, and he grunted. What the hell? Dean had always prided himself on being a level-headed and reasonable man, not an animal acting on instinct. He had never lost control, and he sure as hell wasn't going to do so now. He gritted his teeth, steeling himself, and shook his head to clear it.

"I- um. Hi." He stammered. "I'm Dean. My car ended up in a ditch and I'm kinda stranded here. Any way you could help?" The man -the Omega- didn't say anything, just kept looking at Dean. It was an assessing stare, and it made Dean's skin itch, and he had a sudden urge to fidget. The silence stretched.

Dean coughed. "Hey, were you the dude with the lantern?" he asked.

The Omega narrowed his eyes slightly and cocked his head a little. It was a strange, birdlike gesture, and it gave him an air of otherness that was slightly disturbing. Dean had no time to contemplate the feeling when the Omega turned abruptly, and started to walk down the trail. "Sonova-" Dean huffed and followed.

The alluring scent drifted behind the Omega, and it was getting harder to think. Dean had a distant feeling that something wasn't quite right, but his mind slipped around it. He shrugged it off, thinking it probably wasn't that important anyway, and tried to concentrate on keeping his footing on the slippery trail. When he stumbled and nearly fell on his face, the Omega stopped and turned his head, catching Dean's eye, and he started again. It was like- no. A trick of the light, that crescent excuse for a moon shining in the Omega's eyes, not a friggin' flame. 'Cause that would've just been crazy, right? Dean shook his head to get rid of the haze the Omega's scent had created. But boy, if the man didn't have the bluest eyes ever. You could drown in them if you looked long enough-

Aaand that was his clue to focus. Because really, thinking about drowning while blundering around a marsh - way to go, Dean.

He didn't really pay attention to his surroundings, when all his consciousness was focused in following the Omega. When he realized they were picking up speed, and the Omega was inching away-

chasematechase

-his instincts flared, and he heard a deep growl, and realized to his utter shock that it was himself. He had never growled an Alpha growl or chased an Omega in his life and he was bewildered by his own behaviour. Or would have been, if he'd had the brain capacity to do so. He was gradually slipping into full Alpha mating mode and had no way - or will - to stop it. He lifted his chin slightly to scent and jogged after the Omega.

The pursuit turned out to be harder than he had imagined. Marsh wasn't the firmest ground to run on, and the trail zigzagged here and there, passing ponds and circling around occasional moss-covered snags. Dean was sweating and panting and growling in frustration, as he seemed to get no more closer to the Omega, who wasn't even out of breath. Dude probably trained regularly, if he lived around here.

They approached something that seemed like an islet, and Dean nearly howled in joy, as the Omega slowed down. His scent was heady and more concentrated as Dean gulped it in abundant mouthfuls, reveling in its nuances. His head pounded with mating drive and he was hard in his jeans, and really, really wanted to get his hands on that sweet Omega right fucking now. The aroma of his Alpha arousal mingled with the Omega's scent, forming a tantalizing combination that drove Dean nearly out of his mind.

The Omega had stopped and was breathing hard. There was a sheen of sweat on his skin, and he was the most beautiful sight Dean had ever laid his eyes on. He took a hesitant step towards the slender figure, murmuring soft, calming nonsense, as if the other was a frightened animal, ready to run. The Omega stood completely still with a calm demeanor, following Dean with his eyes. They seemed to burn with an inner fire that eerily reminded Dean of that blue flame he had previously seen. He walked to the Omega with pointedly calm steps, keeping his hands slightly to his sides, where the Omega could see them. He kept his eyes locked on the Omega's as he slowly raised his hand to carefully touch his cheek. A jolt like an electric shock went through him, and the blue eyes flashed. Dean gasped and the Omega bolted.

He didn't get very far before Dean got hold of him and tackled him to the ground. There was a brief struggle, and then the Omega shuddered and went still. The sudden change in demeanor cleared Dean's head. The fuck was he doing? Chasing an Omega like a friggin' knothead he knew he wasn't supposed to be, getting all rapey and shit. What the hell was wrong with him? He sat back on his haunches, and let go of the Omega who let out a soft, whimpering noise. Dean bit his lip in annoyance- he shouldn't have found that sound extremely hot, but he did. Yeah, talk about rapey…

He took the Omega's chin cautiously between his thumb and forefinger, and gently turned his head. The skin was very warm and flushed, and the eyes... Dean drew an involuntary breath. The eyes were glazed with lust, pupils dilated so wide there was practically no blue left. The Omega's breath came with soft pants, and his mouth was slightly open, pink lips glistening. All coherent thought left Dean as he bent down for a kiss. The Omega's lips opened under his, pliant and wanton, as he submitted to the Alpha. Dean slipped his tongue inside, exploring the wonderful, moist heat. The Omega tasted like summer rain and lavender, and Dean would have happily indulged himself with the kiss for an eternity.

He lowered his partner to the soft ground, never breaking the kiss. The Omega moaned softly, and that got Dean in a frenzy. He ripped off the tunic, and was attacked with the mind blowing scent of slick. He growled, flipped the Omega - his Omega - around on all fours, and got rid of his own clothes in a flash, throwing them behind him, not bothering to look where they landed. The Omega's hole was leaking profusely, slick dripping down his thighs, and Dean felt drawn to it. He nuzzled the Omega's back, trailing wet kisses on the way down, down, down, to the wet opening. The Omega sighed and arched his back to offer Dean better access, and Dean was only too happy to comply. He lapped eagerly, licking inside and softly biting the rim, as he gently inserted a finger, and soon another, to rub the silky walls, to stretch his Omega open. Dean was painfully hard and leaking, but was determined to be a good Alpha, and prep his Omega well.

The decision was made for him, when the Omega let out an impatient noise and reached to brush off Dean's fingers, while glaring over his shoulder and canting his hips back. "Eager," Dean murmured, but moved to line himself up and press against the wet hole. There was a slight resistance when he slowly pushed inside, and then glorious heat surrounded him tightly, as he bottomed out in one long stroke. His Omega keened and pushed back, and Dean was gone. It was neither gentle nor slow, but rough and furious, and way too soon Dean felt his knot catch the rim repeatedly, as he rutted against his Omega, thrusting as deep as he could. The Omega shuddered when Dean’s knot practically exploded, and Dean orgasmed, coming harder than ever in his life, vision swimming white and stars and fucking fireworks, and he could hear the Omega wail before he went limp and collapsed to the ground.

When Dean woke up he was warm and dry, and had this pleasant lethargy all over. Problem was, he had absolutely no fucking clue where he was, and oh, he was naked. Memories from the previous night were hazy at best and couldn't really be trusted. There had been rain, more rain, then less rain, and a blue light and marsh and chasing- Oh God, did he molest some poor Omega? Dean sat up and buried his head in his hands. He was so fucked, there wasn't enough lube in the world to make it okay. And where the hell were his clothes? He groaned and rubbed his face, and had no idea how to fix this giant pile of crap he had set up.

Taking a deep breath, he opened his eyes and looked around. Okay, weird. He was in a... nest of sorts. There was a bed of moss he was currently sitting on, and he could see a canopy of woven grass arching over his head. The place wasn't big and there really wasn't anything else except the mossy bed and a pile of some fabric (his clothes, please, make it be his clothes) on his left side. On his right was-

Well, hello. Dean gaped at the naked man beside him. He was on his side, sleeping soundly with his left hand under his head. His face was very, very pretty, with a faint blush on his cheeks and sensual lips slightly ajar, and he had a thick, heady scent around him.

What the fuck had happened here?

Dean sat for a long while and just stared at the man (Omega, that was an Omega, right- his Omega?), wondering what to do next. He could get up and find some clothes, but he figured he had no idea where he was, and frankly he had no urge to find out. The nest was kinda comfy and smelled amazing, like mate and safe and home, and fuck, he was so screwed. How come he was here, naked, in the middle of a friggin' marsh, in a mossy nest that smelled like mate? Fuck my life, honestly, he huffed.

But Dean was nothing if not a creature of comfort, so he lay down beside the (His?) Omega and snuggled carefully as close as he dared. The Omega radiated heat and a scent that made Dean's insides feel like warm goo. He felt a happy grin spread across his face as he watched the gorgeous creature sleeping next to him. He didn't believe in sappy love-at-first-scent stories or any true mate crap, but he couldn't deny he was definitely feeling something. And Dean being Dean, he closed his eyes and pretended he didn't actually just think that.

When he next came to, he was sprawled on his back, and he couldn't feel his right arm. The reason for the latter was a steady weight half on top of him, a warm body tucked tightly to his side. When he turned his head to take a better look, the body stirred. There was a shock of dark hair, and then his vision was full of blue, as the Omega raised his head to look him straight in the eye. Dean was unable to look away, and lost all sense of time, lost in the infinite blue. It was like the Omega was able to see straight to his core, to his soul, and take him apart piece by piece, dissecting his very self to learn exactly who he was. He probably should have felt uncomfortable under such intense scrutiny, but he was strangely okay with it. Instead, he felt weirdly at ease, open and safe, cocooned in the warmth and scent of the Omega.

"Hey," he said softly. The Omega blinked and tilted his head. It was an oddly endearing gesture, and Dean couldn't help but smile. "What's up?" he asked, and raised a tentative finger to brush the pink lips and froze, when something tugged his mind. He frowned. There was something... something wasn't quite right. He paused to concentrate- and then memories rushed through his scent-addled brain. He pulled away in alarm and sat up, eyes wide, jaw slack, holding his hands up. Fuck, no no no, what had he done?

"Look, about last night," he started, not daring to look his companion in the eye, "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't- I wasn't- Fuck. I was a dick, man. Totally out of line." He sighed and rubbed his face. "I don't know what got into me. I've never acted like that, never, I've never lost control, not even when I was shitface drunk. I fucking growled and tackled you- I attacked you and practically raped you!" He shook his head and added, "I'm so, so sorry. I know it doesn't matter anymore 'cause what's done is done, but for what it's worth, I'm really sorry." He still couldn't look at the Omega, so curled inwards, hugging himself, disgusted and ashamed and in full knowledge he was a sick fuck.

There was no answer, not that Dean expected one. Attacking an Omega was always a serious offense, but chasing one and then knotting without their consent... Dean would be fortunate if he got off with just prison time and heavy sanctions. It wasn't unheard of that an Omega-assault was countered by the Omega’s familial Alpha in a protective rage that left the attacker in a bloody mess. At least he had been lucid enough not to bite - or at least he desperately hoped so. But if he had, well, he was going to face the consequences anyway. He sighed, and rested his forehead on his knees.

This wasn't how he'd imagined his life turning out. Despite what Sam thought, Dean had always been so careful, so mindful of his actions, always thinking things through, to make sure he made his decisions as a man, not an Alpha. After their dad died in a bar brawl in what was interpreted as an Alpha territorial conflict, Dean had vowed he wouldn't end up like his father, wouldn't give in to his instincts, wouldn't regress into a frothing animal to be ruled by his knot. Yeah, and that had turned out well.

Sam would be so disappointed. But not nearly as disappointed, ashamed, and angry as Dean already was.

He was dwelling so deep in his thoughts that when a warm hand touched his shoulder, he actually yelped. He whirled around and saw the Omega sitting calmly on the moss bed, cross-legged and at total ease with his nudity. Or their nudity, since Dean was in his birthday suit as well. The Omega's face was expressionless apart from his eyes, they were like furnaces of blue flame, burning with intensity. Dean was again drawn to them, helpless, unable to look away, and he could only sit, transfixed like a deer caught in headlights.

The Omega raised his hand and touched Dean's cheek. The touch sent a burst of burning sparkles through his body, and he gasped in shock. The Omega gave him a curious tilt of his head, and took his hand away. Dean felt the loss of touch like a physical pain, and gave an involuntary sob. The Omega's eyes narrowed slightly and he reached his hand back to Dean's cheek, now cupping it in his palm. Dean closed his eyes and leaned into the touch, reveling in its warmth and the sense of belonging. He heard something shift, and then there was a another hand on his other cheek, and then soft lips pressed to his. His eyes flew open in shock and complete surprise, as the Omega kissed him and kissed him, and then he was gently but resolutely pushed onto his back.

He went without a fight. After what he had done, any use of force would be monumentally stupid and only worsen his situation. So he let himself be pushed, manhandled to the ground, until he was sprawled flat, the Omega straddling his thighs. He stayed completely still, waiting, as the Omega sat back on his haunches and let his gaze swipe over Dean's naked torso. It felt incredibly intimate, and Dean could feel a blush creeping across his face and chest. The reaction got the blue eyes to widen slightly, and the Omega bent down, as if Dean's blushing skin was a thing of great interest. He hovered above Dean, resting his hands on the moss beside Dean's hips, his breath in warm puffs on Dean's chest. Their cocks brushed each other, and to his utter horror Dean felt himself get hard.

He placed his hands firmly on the Omega's shoulders, and carefully pushed him off of him. The blue eyes narrowed in irritation, as if Dean's maneuvers were an offense. Dean kept his hands in place and looked the Omega levelly in the eye.

"It's not that I don’t want you, 'cause I think I've never wanted anything this much in my life, but this isn't right. I acted like a jerk and... I hurt you- God, I want nothing more than just to fuck you like right now but," he swallowed, "I can't. I can't take advantage of you, not again," he whispered hoarsely.

Before Dean had time to react, the blue eyes flashed furiously and he was forcefully shoved to his back with his hands pinned by his head, and the Omega's face only inches from his, blue eyes flaming. As much as he tried, he couldn't move a muscle. Oo-kay. The fragile-looking Omega was anything but. Dean gulped. "I'll just... lie here then, right?" he said and offered a weak smile. The look in the blue eyes softened into something that could only be described as approving, and the Omega leaned back on his haunches to resume his scrutiny. Dean closed his eyes and groaned inwardly. This was so wrong that he didn't have the words for it, but it wasn't like he had a choice. Lie back and think of God and country and shit, right? But then warm fingers touched his face, and logic abandoned him.

Everything was centered on touch and feel and scent. Dean shivered slightly as the fingers traced his brow, his nose, and his cheek, moving to his lips, a thumb trailing his cupid's bow with a gentle caress. He felt the Omega's left hand rest on his right shoulder while warm fingers trailed from his lips to his throat, and Dean knew he shouldn't- but he arched his head back to bare his throat, and it felt so right, and then there was a tongue trailing his pulse, and all he could do was moan.

He was turned into a pulsing, wanting, shivering mess, as the Omega trailed wet, open-mouthed kisses to the base of his throat and chest, and it was like nothing Dean had ever experienced. His breath hitched when lips brushed his nipple and everything froze for a second. Then there were tongue and teeth, and Dean threw his head back and groaned, 'cause it felt so, so good; pain and pleasure combined. He made a futile attempt to return the favor, but the Omega shoved his hands back to the ground, and Dean took the hint and concentrated on remembering how to breath. The Omega explored his body with curious fingers and tongue, worshiping every inch of him, and Dean felt so loved and cherished, that it almost made him cry.

He smelled the intoxicating scent of slick getting stronger, and as his Omega moved up to kiss Dean again, he felt it flow down his Omega's thighs, dripping to his groin. His cock arched to his stomach, pre-cum pearling on its head and so hard it fucking hurt, and it took all his remaining willpower not to grip the Omega, flip him over and fuck him with abandon.

He opened his eyes to see lust-blown Omega-eyes staring back. He reached with his hand, thumbed the pink, beautiful lips and cupped his cheek in his hand. The Omega sighed softly and leaned into the touch, and that was all the invitation Dean needed. He raised his head and pressed their lips together. It was a gentle, loving kiss, with no rush or frenzy, just the two of them enjoying and lavishing each other. The Omega opened up under his lips, letting Dean in, submitting to his tongue.

Dean pushed himself up with his left hand, never breaking the kiss, and crossed his legs to get his Omega fully on his lap. His cock fit snugly in the cleft of his Omega's slick ass, and his hips bucked helplessly at the sensation. The Omega moaned into his mouth, and it was the hottest sound ever, and it almost made him come right there. He moved his left hand to grip the slender waist while his right hand caressed the curls of his Omega's hair at the nape of his neck. He felt complete, whole, and had a sense of belonging, as he hugged this gorgeous creature close, kissing like his life depended on it. His Omega didn't break the kiss as he lifted his ass, moved a bit, and just like that Dean's cock slid home. The tightness, wetness, and heat were almost too much, and Dean groaned and broke the kiss to rest his forehead against his Omega's. Panting, he held his eyes closed, reveling in the closeness and intimacy, as the Omega wrapped his legs around Dean to draw him even closer.

Dean felt humbled and overwhelmed, and thoroughly loved. He opened his eyes to see his Omega looking back, and with mutual understanding they started to move together, sharing little kisses and gasps. Dean muttered words of adoration and love to the pale, warm skin, not giving a shit if it was girly or if the Omega didn't understand a word.

They held each other tight as they rocked together in unhurried moves, faces buried in each other’s necks, air filling with the concentrated scents of love and mate and safe and home. It was like everything had came to a halt and there were only Dean and his Omega, together, making love, oblivious to the world around them. It was Heaven.

He felt the Omega climax, and it took only a couple of pushes for Dean to follow. He kissed his Omega long and passionately, letting go only when he was out of breath. He brushed his Omega’s brow and gently thumbed the kiss-swollen lips. Dean had never felt like this in his life.

"Who are you?" he asked softly. "Where have you been all my life?”

The Omega didn't say a word, but buried his head in Dean's neck and gently pushed the Alpha to his back. They fell asleep tangled together, Dean's knot still buried deep inside his Omega.

When he woke up, he was alone. The scent of their lovemaking still lingered in the air and Dean felt warmth spread in his chest. It had been awesome - this was awesome! To find someone who could make him feel so relaxed and at ease was a wonder, and Dean was definitely going to hold on to it. He couldn't remember the last time he had been so perfectly content. It was an extraordinary sensation, to be able to be completely open and vulnerable to someone, to be laid bare and naked in every possible way and be entirely accepted.

Now all he had to do was to find his Omega's familial Alpha and make an official proposal of mating and then pray the Omega would comply. But first he probably should go and find the man. It would only be prudent to warn him first. He wondered if there were more nests like this, or if this was a sort of mating nest (the hell if he knew, country folk could be weird), and his Omega's family lived in some house nearby. It sure was a funny family if they let their Omega run around in heat, but Dean didn't complain, on the contrary.

He searched for his clothes and found them in a messy heap on the ground (the bundle of fabric he had previously noted was his clothes, thank God) and put them on, a little gingerly. 'Cause damp, moss-stained garments were fucking unpleasant on naked skin.

His stomach growled and he searched the nest for some food but there was none. Weird. Usually Omegas tended to stack away something to eat, because their heats could be a bitch. Dean snorted and rolled his eyes at his own pun and proceeded outside.

It was very early in the morning, the sun barely peeking over the horizon. The Omega was nowhere to be seen and Dean frowned. The marsh was mainly flatland and there weren’t that many places to hide (Besides, why the would his Omega hide from him?), which meant his Omega must have gone pretty far. Dean felt a bit worried since he probably should have known where his Omega was. He was a crappy Alpha if he lost his Omega so soon. He sighed. It would be a shitty job to track the man in the marsh, but he should at least try. He lifted his nose to scent the cool morning air, to get a hunch where to start. The marsh had its own spicy and strong scent, but underneath it he could detect a whiff of familiar wild rosemary, water lily, and musk, and he grinned. Naughty Omega shouldn't run from his Alpha.

He started walking casually towards the familiar scent. The marsh around him was slowly waking up, insects buzzing and some freaky lizard slipping away in the grass. Dean felt happy and carefree and it was terrifying 'cause he wasn't accustomed to it. Good things didn't happen to Dean Winchester, that much was for sure. He felt his mood turning sour and made a conscious effort to push the depressing thoughts aside. He wanted this - he wanted his Omega, the pleasant and warm feeling in his chest, the tender and soft caresses, everything.

Armed with his certainty and conviction, he walked on. The nest was located on a small islet of sorts, on a mound of grass and moss surrounded by a pond. There were no other nests to be seen, which likely meant that his Omega was alone and his family was further away. Dean fervently hoped the Omega hadn't run to his familial Alpha to ask him or her to beat the crap out of Dean. It would be fucking unpleasant, especially when Dean had every intention in the Universe to bond with the dude. On the other hand, he seriously believed the Omega had felt something too, otherwise he wouldn't have made love to Dean as he had.

Oh, the lovemaking... That was something else. Dean had had some pretty amazing hook-ups before, but nothing compared to this, not even close. It had been the most tender, sensual, and intimate experience he had ever had in his life, and it had probably ruined him for every other possible bedmate. But Dean didn't want to bed anyone else. His head was full of blue eyes and wild rosemary, water lily, and musk, and he was determined to fill the rest of his life with them. Assuming he could find his Omega, that was.

He gradually found his way to the waterfront and gazed over the misty marsh. Dean could understand the appeal of living there - the scenery was kinda relaxing and restful, and made him want to sit down and just breathe. He was about to do exactly that but he thought he saw something glimmering in his peripheral vision. He turned to look and frowned as he saw a blue flame dancing at a short distance from the shore. It looked precisely like the gas flame of the lantern he had followed the previous night. He shook his head slowly 'cause that was just fucking weird.

While he watched, the flame glided closer, and when it touched the shore, it flashed and started to change. Dean gasped in shock when the flickering blue flame transformed into the Omega he had been looking for.

He realized with a pang that the man he had- God... had fallen in love with, wasn't actually human. He stared, shaken and eyes wide, as the thing rose slowly to its feet and started walking towards him. He, it, moved with a strange grace that could only be described as predatory beauty, eyes like a blue furnace, and naked skin glowing. Dean tried to back away, but he was transfixed, frozen in place, unable to move. As the whatever closed in, Dean shut his eyes and turned his head to bare his neck. He was certain he was going to die, and his only regret was he never knew the thi- oh fuck, his Omega's name.

But he didn't die. Instead the Omega scented his neck and jaw, lips nuzzling along Dean's overnight stubble. Dean whimpered and felt his cock twitch in his pants. Oh God, if he was gonna die, at least he would die happy. The Omega slid his hands under Dean's Henley, caressed his abdomen and hips, and Dean's breath hitched. He knew he should have been horrified he was being groped by a monster, but honestly, he couldn't give a flying fuck. He let go, gave himself over, and was completely okay with it.

He lost his clothes in a flurry, and then he was pushed to his back as the Omega straddled him and with a flick of his hips slid down his cock, sinking to the hilt in one powerful motion. Dean's eyes fluttered as his Omega started to move with furious thrusts, and Dean just lay back and took it. There was an edge of something, a desperate sense of longing and heartbreaking desolation, an all-encompassing loneliness that made Dean’s heart ache. He opened his eyes to look at the creature above him, riding him, eyes half-lidded, cheeks flushed, and so goddamn beautiful that Dean wanted to cry. He moved his hands over his Omegas thighs and hips and chest, trying to memorize every little detail, every curve and dip, 'cause he wasn't sure he was allowed to have this.

An involuntary sob escaped his lips, and the blue eyes snapped open and locked into his. Dean couldn't turn his gaze away and was sucked into the burning blue as the Omega rode him harder and faster, picking up a frantic pace, and Dean met him push by push. He felt a burning coiling in his groin and knew he was close, so close, but he wanted - needed- this to last, 'cause somehow he knew that this was it. He felt his Omega's hips stutter and then he dropped his head back in a silent scream and clenched around Dean, and the glorious wet tightness threw Dean over the edge. Dean came with a shout, and then the Omega slammed his hand on Dean's chest, over his heart, and everything went black.

Dean opened his eyes to a bleak October morning, feeling wet and tired, and everything fucking hurt. He had absolutely no idea where he was, and also, what the fuck, he was butt naked and the weather was quite chill. He glanced around, and to his utter relief, found his clothes in a messy pile by his side. He hastily put them on, face burning with embarrassment. Luckily there was no one else in sight- he seemed to be alone in the middle of nowhere on a muddy bank of a... marsh? What the hell?

There was an odd tingling on his chest. Curious, he pulled his shirt up and his eyes widened as he saw an imprint of a hand over his heart. He touched it gingerly and gasped when he felt a tiny shock shoot from it, straight to his - what? - cock. For a second it looked like the handprint glowed faintly blue and then it faded. "Fucking weird," Dean muttered, lowered his shirt, and bent down to lace his boots. Why would he have a handprint on his chest? What the hell did he do last night? Did he, like, jerk off in a marsh, gripping his chest tight while sitting in a mud? That was way kinkier than even he could've ever imagined.

He shook his head in confusion. He had to get back to Baby, wherever she was, and back to the flat. He wanted a shower, food, and clean clothes, and not necessarily in that order. The bank was slippery with wet mud and he slipped repeatedly as he stumbled to the road. Fortunately he saw Baby nearby, but unfortunately she was in a ditch. Dean groaned. Fuck his life, there was no way he could haul Baby out himself, which meant he had to call Sam. He checked his phone and found six missed calls from Sam and three voice mails, supposedly also from Sam. He sighed and dialed his brother.

Sam's relief rolled through the static in big waves, as he ranted to his ‘jerk of a big brother’ about the stupidity of disappearing in the night again. After the umpteenth time Dean gave up trying to explain what had happened to him (since he didn't know Sam, for fuck's sake!), and flatly gave directions where to find him. Sam whined because he was Sam, but eventually he called back and told Dean he had paid some Beta named Bobby to give him a ride. All Dean had to do was wait.

It was still chilly so Dean pulled his jacket around him and pushed his hands in its pockets to warm his fingers. His right hand brushed against something rough, and as he pulled it out, he was staring at a sprig of wild rosemary.

"The hell I've got litter in my pocket?" he grumbled, but it was a half-hearted effort. He was oddly drawn to it, and as he lifted it to his nose, he swayed on his feet, as a myriad of scents and sensations avalanched onto him. He was flooded with feelings of home and love, and nearly choked at the pressure in his chest as he whimpered aloud at the sense of loss. He stood there, spaced out, not knowing what had happened, but knowing this rosemary was the most precious thing in his life.

It took Sam a couple of hours to get to Dean, and then some more to haul Baby out of the ditch, even if said Bobby had a tow truck to do most of the work. By then Dean had composed himself and used exhaustion as an excuse to let Sam drive, which made Sam instantly dubious. He kept glancing at Dean and opening his mouth time to time, as if to ask something. It didn't take long for Dean to lose it.

"What?" He snapped.

"What the hell happened, Dean?" Sam asked, baffled. "You okay?”

"The fuck you think, bitch?" Dean grumbled, gazing out the side window. He was physically and emotionally spent and really didn't want to talk or think, but knowing Sam he wasn't getting off so easily.

"Dunno, jerk. You smell off. It's like-," Sam hesitated, "...like you're mated or something.”

"Really," Dean stated flatly. "I had a friggin' slumber party in a friggin' marshland, who the hell did I mate, a fucking dragonfly?”

He flipped Sam the finger and turned his head as if to get some sleep. His chest still tingled and he rubbed it absently. There was a sense of blue in the back of his mind, but it kept slipping away when he tried to grasp it.

"Dean, come on. I was worried, okay? Besides it's kinda miracle you're alive, since that marsh is a pretty dangerous place to be on new moon."

Dean didn't bother to open his eyes, but just snorted.

Sam rolled his eyes. "I mean it, Dean. This marsh has a record in local lore: dozens of weird disappearances, all at the new moon and all young Alphas, never to be found again. I'm just glad you're okay, man.”

"Must be a hoot in your old wive's club. What's it gonna be next time, knitting and ghost stories?" Dean mocked, squeezing his eyes tightly shut to keep hot tears from falling down his cheeks. Something had happened, something significant, and for the life of him he couldn't remember what. He knew he apparently should be happy to be alive, but he felt too empty and fucking lost to be glad. He held the sprig of wild rosemary tucked tightly in the breast pocket his jacket, its faint scent drifting to his nose, oddly comforting.

Sam didn't say anything, but Dean could feel his eyes flit to him at times.

There was no more talk after that.

After his night at the marsh, Dean felt off. He was moody and snapped at Sam so often that after a couple of feeble attempts of oh-Dean's-having-his-period jokes Sam blandly told him to fuck off and grow a pair. Dean tried drinking and hustling and casual sex, but the first two left him hollow and the last almost made him hurl on his bedmate (which, eww, not cool). He even washed and waxed his Baby several times, but even that didn't help. He was thrown off his rail, felt like an outsider in his own life, and he didn't get why. All he knew was that the wild rosemary was love, and his nights were filled with burning blue and warm skin.

Dean returned to the marsh at the next new moon. He didn't dwell on why exactly, but he knew he had to be there. He drove Baby to the spot he had woken up, parked and walked to the waterfront. He was looking but didn't know for what. There was an odd pull in his chest by the handprint that had long ago faded away, and he absently put his hand over it. Somehow it helped.

He sat on the bank and looked across the marsh. It was calm and beautiful, little clouds of mist gently drifting over it. Dean felt like home and at peace which was odd, but since it was the first time in a month, he didn't question it. At times he thought he scented something familiar in the air, like fresh rain, white water lilies, and the wild rosemary he loved, but before he got a hold of it, it was gone.

He didn't sleep that night. He sat and waited and pined, and when the morning came, he sighed and drove home.

With the next new moon, Dean returned, again.